It was obvious that rank had its privileges, and even though he was simply a lowly male and could never become the supreme ruler of the Coalition, Formilian society dictated that the High Celebrant should want for nothing. The quarters he occupied were a sprawling complex of rooms all lined with shiny marble walls and eight-sided columns that supported ceilings towering fifty feet high. The chambers reminded Adam of what the Caesars of Rome would have enjoyed, if they were so lucky. A small, gray Jakrean led Adam to a smaller, more secluded room within the complex, where he found a dozen more of the tiny creatures scurrying around an array of electronic equipment mounted on wheeled carts. Convor was in the room, along with Trimen, now dressed in a ceremonial orange blouse. Trimen looked at Adam with undisguised contempt. “I will be analyzing the scanning process and assist in the tuning of the Gift. It is part of my specialty,” he said with incredible effort, “even though I am still adamantly opposed to the procedure.”
