There was a silence between Penelope and Salander. That wasn`t to say the arena was quiet, because there was still much murmuring from the crowd and a few tussles over differing perspectives. But standing out amidst the roiling interlude were the things not said between Penelope and Salander.

　　They sat at the same small table, despite the gulf now between them, as they tried to look at things other than each other.

　　Salander`s gaze was fixed on the judge, who was being fitted into a harness attached a small crane as to be better lifted into the current model of the podium.

　　The new iteration, now with thicker walls, was apparently constructed with the idea that stairs reduce structural integrity. It was merely a raised platform, surrounded by low walls, with a lectern on the side facing the plaintiff and defendant, which looked like it could withstand a month-long battery without disturbing the lecturer.

　　The judge was suspended about a foot off the ground at the end of a sturdy rope attached to a rotating crane operated by one of the lizardfolk. They were getting the hang of lateral motion and now just needed to figure out how to couple that with the vertical motion, so the judge was swinging to and fro like a wrecking ball in a powdered wig.

　　None of this did not so much as shift the stern look from the judge`s face, and Salander was distracting himself by waiting for either the rope or the judge to snap.

　　Penelope was not registering what she was looking at. She was too busy being flabbergasted by Salander`s story.

　　She wanted to ask him-&

　　Well, she wanted to ask him a lot of things, all at once, and in an angry voice.

　　She knew if she did so, and all the words and all the questions all came out at once, not only would she not get answers, but she might lose the one and only person on her side.

　　So she kept the lid on it, hoping all this angry pressure would die down and she might be able to open it up without it exploding. Maybe the questions might even come out in a neat and comprehensible order.

　　The biggest one, which was driving her mental state currently, was how Salander hadn`t told her about having met another cowbird.

　　She didn`t even know if it was true. If it was, why would he keep it a secret from her? If it wasn`t, why would he lie under oath in front of Ogg and a thousand of his orcs?

　　From there the questions continued to multiply into more questions, and she found herself focusing the most on the most frustrating possible answers.

　　She saw something that pulled her out of her internal fuming. Someone was talking discretely to Lord Kairon, and it looked like it was troubling him.

　　Kairon strode over to the podium, where the Judge had only recently been deposited, much to Salander`s disappointment.

　　Kairon spoke to the Judge, whose face remained impassable save for one or two curt nods.

　　Neither Salander nor Penelope could hear what was said, but the Judge brought order to the arena, smacking it into less of a rabble with the gavel.

　　"Lord Kairon has just informed me that we will have to take a recess," the judge issued in a riding-crop monotone.

　　Justafar spoke for the crowd, saying, "What`s that mean?"

　　"It means we will take a break from court proceedings until other matters are resolved."

　　The Judge motioned respectfully to Lord Kairon, who said, "There appears to be a coordinated enemy force ravaging our farmland. Something that can breathe fire and fly."

　　This was met with an expectant gasp from the audience, and Penelope heard short mutterings of approval. Excitement coursed through the arena at the prospect of a new kind of hunt.

　　Lord Kairon continued, "We can resume the trial after this is addressed."

　　People were already dispersing, each person headed home eager to prepare. The prosecution was much more lively now, save for Justafar. He sat sullen among his excited team.

　　Penelope could hear the young orcs talking over each other.Stolen story; please report.

　　"It can breathe fire?" one said in disbelief.

　　"We`ll need nets if it can fly," another said.

　　"How big do you think it is?" asked a third.

　　Justafar seemed to be weighing options, seemingly oblivious to the babbling around him, until he gave a roar of frustration, silencing his entourage.

　　He got up and strode silently over to the defendant table, Kairon moving to intercept him.

　　Kairon placed a hand on Justafar`s chest. "We`re taking a recess to keep the city from succumbing to a calamity. You don`t need to worry about her. I`ll take her into custody myself."

　　He pointed at Penelope, Kairon restraining him, and growled, "I`ll be back for you when this is over."

　　Justafar eased back and turned to Kairon with the same scowl.

　　Penelope thought for a moment that he would unload on Kairon, but he said only, "My lord," before leaving for hunt preparations. His entourage fell into step behind him, slightly bewildered.

　　"You`re doing well," Kairon said. None of the previous confrontation seemed to have phased him. "We will have to detain you for the time being, as I told Justafar. Come with me." He turned and walked towards town hall.

　　Penelope started following before her brain could figure out why. She had been told she would be detained. Why not simply leave?

　　"Aren`t you going to arrest me?" she wheedled, all but skipping to close the distance.

　　Kairon stopped and turned back to look at her, his expression slightly confused.

　　"What do you mean? I believe I have."

　　"My hands are free. There`s no one standing guard to keep me from escaping. Salander and I don`t have to listen to you, and everyone else has left."

　　His confused expression disappeared, shouldered off-stage by a deceptively strong smirk.

　　He said, "But you haven`t gotten your resolution. I don`t think you can leave."

　　She looked at Salander, who seemed to have had the same thoughts as hers, but similarly hadn`t run off.

　　He must have something keeping him here, too, Penelope reasoned, though she noted he didn`t seem happy about it.

　　"Now, please, follow me," Kairon said, suddenly turning back and continuing to the town hall.

　　She and Salander caught up to him at the door, and Penelope asked, "So what about this threat? Are we here so you can prepare for the hunt too?"

　　This caught him off guard. He paused and looked ahead, thinking, and then Penelope heard him chuckle.

　　"Oh my, no. We can leave that to the others. I want you here so I can share my technological designs while we wait."

　　Once inside, he took a spot in front of the window which looked out over the town. "The council is out preparing to bring down the flame beast," he said. The long table where the khans had convened was empty of both orcs and feast.

　　Gesturing to the throne he said, "Please, have a seat."

　　Penelope stood in awe of the high-backed black chair being offered to her. The seat of a chieftain had impressed her once, when she was little. Only one person was ever allowed in that chair, they had said.

　　This originally led her to believe it would have magically repelled anyone but her father. Now that she was more experienced, she saw it merely as a symbol, though she didn`t comprehend the real magic in that.

　　Salander shoved past her, saying, "Don`t mind if I do."

　　He crawled up the chair, which was almost too high a seat for him, before managing to sit down in it.

　　Kairon looked pleased.

　　Then Penelope realized something that had been bothering her.

　　"You`re not going out to hunt with the others?"

　　Shaking his head, he said dismissively, "No, that`s not my role."

　　"What is your role, then? Chieftains by tradition are expected to lead the hunts. My father answers to you, so what do you do as chieftain of chieftains if not lead even more extravagant hunts?"

　　"I do something much more important, Penelope," he said, raising his arms expansively. "I organize the day-to-day. I design the city`s future."

　　He gestured for her to come to the window, and she approached cautiously.

　　"There are hundreds of orcs here, Penelope. They need access to food. They need access to water. Shelters need not only to be built, but for land to be allocated for that purpose. The resources we use daily and which keep us alive, comfortable, and entertained need to be distributed, and the goal is always the greater good."

　　Through the window, she saw the city laid out before her.

　　"Imagine the history of the buildings, Penelope. Imagine how they start as nothing more than dirt, water, and plants. These things need to be gathered, and they need to be processed, and they need to be brought together. All this needs to happen not just once, either, but dozens of times."

　　She remembered being impressed by the buildings when she had first arrived. They seemed much sturdier than what she had grown up living in.

　　"Individuals are capable of doing these things for themselves," she retorted. "When an orc makes a shelter, that orc wholly owns their protection from the elements."

　　Kairon looked slightly disappointed, saying, "That`s a very traditionalist viewpoint. Versatility strengthens the individual, but specialization strengthens the community. How are you going to learn how to optimize a shelter if you must also learn combat and butchery and how to prepare food? All these skills suffer when you learn them in parallel."

　　"The strength of the community comes from the strength of its members," she said incredulously. "Specialization fosters dependency and weakness. We`re orcs, and orcs don`t specialize."

　　Kairon tut-tutted. "Penelope, your thinking is outmoded. The evidence is here before you, and you scorn the method in the face of the results."

　　He put a hand on her shoulder.

　　"Look at what you orcs can accomplish with specialization. We discover better ways of doing things, instead of learning just what is needed to get by. We can produce more, faster, and of better quality. People aren`t judged by what they`re worst at. Instead, they`re applauded for the artistry of what they`re best at."

　　She couldn`t argue with the results, but another point was begging to be made. A point that arose when she regarded Kairon in this moment.

　　She withheld it. She continued withholding it as Kairon showed her the rotation of crops, the beast-pulled plow, the everflowing jug, adobe building construction, carpentry, and similar wonders her people would never have considered needing. She couldn`t help but feel impressed.

　　Impressive as they were, Penelope now knew one thing.

　　Kairon was not an orc.