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Arakasi shrugged, as if distrust of his motives was of no consequence. ‘I keep in touch with Saric and others of the Tuscai. I often traded in the cities on their behalf, using my wits and talents. And through them I met Lujan and his band. I had just reached Saric’s camp when Lujan’s call came. I thought I’d come along and see what this odd business was.’ With his head inclined towards Mara, he added, ‘I must say I admire the way you bend tradition to suit your needs, Lady.’
Mara answered, ‘Only as needed, Arakasi, and never broken.’ She looked at the man for a moment. ‘Still, you’ve not said why you haven’t abandoned your network. I would think it safer if you all simply faded into the roles you portrayed when your master died and lived out your lives.’
Arakasi smiled. ‘Safer, undoubtedly; even the infrequent contacts I’ve maintained over the last four years put some of my people at risk. But for our honour, we keep the network alive.’ He paused, then said, ‘Our reasons are part of my requirements to take service with you. And you shall hear them only if you choose to reach an agreement.’
About to speak, Keyoke then gave a simple shake of his head; no one should presume to bargain with the Ruler of the Acoma in this fashion. Mara glanced at Nacoya, who was thoughtfuly following the conversation, then at Papewaio, who nodded once, lending Arakasi his silent endorsement.
Mara took a breath. ‘I think I see the wisdom in your requirements, Spy Master. But what would become of your network should mishap befall you?’
‘My agents have means of routinely checking upon one another. Should a needra pause to sit upon the spot where I nap, thus ending my career, another agent would make himself known to you within one month’s time.’ Arakasi sobered. ‘He would give you proof that could not be counterfeited, and you could trust him as you would me.’
Mara nodded. ‘Trust, though, that is the difficulty. Either of us would be a fool to relinquish caution too quickly.’
‘Of course.’
A slight breeze caused the flames to gutter in the lamps, and for an instant the chamber swam with shadows. Nacoya made an unthinking gesture against disaster and the gods’ displeasure. But Mara was too absorbed to worry over superstition. ‘If I agree to your terms, will you take service?’
Arakasi bowed slightly from the waist, a gesture he accomplished with grace. ‘I wish to serve a house as much as any soldier, mistress, but there is one thing more. We keep the network intact for reasons of honour. After the House of Tuscai fell, I and those who worked with me made a vow. We will not take service if we must break that vow.’
‘What is the vow?’
Arakasi looked directly at Mara, and his eyes reflected fanatic passion, unmasked by any attempt at guile. In even tones he said, ‘Vengeance upon the Lord of the Minwanabi.’
‘I see.’ Mara settled back against her cushions, hoping the passion in her own heart was not so easily read. ‘We share an enemy, it seems.’
Arakasi nodded. ‘For now. I know the Acoma and the Minwanabi are in contention, but the tides of politics often change –’
Mara held up her hand, silencing him. ‘The Acoma have a blood feud with the Minwanabi.’
Arakasi stilled and regarded the worn heel of the sandal tucked under his knee. So profound was his silence that all in the chamber felt chilled. Here was a man of seemingly limitless patience, like the tree-lord serpent, who would blend with a branch, unseen, tirelessly waiting for prey to pass by, then strike with unexpected fury. When at last Arakasi stirred, Mara observed the strain of this interview had begun to wear at his control. Despite his talents and training, the Spy Master had the same conflicting emotions as those ragged soldiers and servants who had come to her: he might gain a second beginning, only to become masterless once again. Yet his voice reflected no turmoil as he said, ‘If you will have us, I and mine will swear loyalty to the Acoma.’
Mara nodded.
Arakasi’s face suddenly became animated. ‘Then, my mistress, let us begin, for an advantage may be gained if you act quickly. Before coming to the hills, I spent time in the north, with a friend in the House of Inrodaka. It is common gossip among the workers there that to the west, near the woodland borders of their Lord’s estates, a cho-ja hive has spawned a new queen.’
‘No word has been sent?’ asked Mara, instantly interested.
Arakasi gestured in the negative. ‘The Lord of the Inrodaka is a quiet man with few guests and even fewer sojourns abroad. But time is short. The fruit harvesters soon will carry word to the river. The news will then race the breadth of the Empire, but for now you are the only Ruling Lady or Lord to know that a new queen of the cho-ja will soon be seeking a home. She will have at least three hundred warriors to serve her,’ and with a glint of humour he added, ‘and if you win her loyalty, you can be certain none of them will be spies.’
Mara stood. ‘If this is true, we must leave before morning.’ Gaining a cho-ja hive for her estates would be a gift from the gods. Alien the cho-ja might be, but they made fierce and loyal allies. The new queen might begin her nest with three hundred soldiers, each easily the match for two Tsurani, but over the years the number might grow to several thousand; and as Arakasi pointed out, none of them could be agents for enemy houses. To Keyoke, Mara said, ‘Have trailbreakers ready within the hour. We will start the journey to this hive at dawn.’ As the Force Commander departed, she returned her attention to Arakasi. ‘You will accompany us. Papewaio will arrange for servants and see that your needs are met.’
Mara signalled an end to the meeting. As her advisers rose to depart, Nacoya touched Arakasi’s sleeve. ‘The girl knows nothing of the cho-ja. How will she negotiate?’
Effortlessly courteous, Arakasi took the old woman’s hand and ushered her to the doorway as if she were some treasured great-aunt. ‘The sending of a new queen occurs so rarely, no one can be prepared to negotiate. The Lady of the Acoma must simply accommodate to whatever the new queen requests.’
As the pair disappeared into the corridor, Mara could barely contain her excitement. All thoughts of her forthcoming wedding were eclipsed by this news; to have a hive upon one’s estate was more than an honour and a source of military power. For beyond being superior warriors, cho-ja were miners, able to find precious metals and gems buried deep within the earth, from which their artisans wrought jewellery of surpassing delicacy. The insectoid aliens also held the secret of making silk, the cool, soft fabric most prized by those who lived in the ever-present heat of the Empire. Wars had been fought to control the silk trade, until imperial edict allowed for neither guild nor noble to monopolize it. Now any lord who could gain silk could trade it.
Cho-ja products were valuable, and their requirements simple: grain and items fashioned of hide; for these reasons families would kill to gain a hive upon their estates. And among all the hives known in the Empire, the cho-ja sent forth a new queen less often than once in a human lifetime.
But Mara would need to convince the new queen to migrate to Acoma lands. If she failed, representatives of other houses would follow, until the queen received an offer that pleased her. And as Arakasi had observed, what would strike the fancy of a creature as alien as a cho-ja remained a mystery.
Lujan and his company left for the hills to search for recruits, all but unnoticed amid the bustle of servants gathering supplies for the escort who would depart to bargain for the new cho-ja queen.
Mara left her quarters well before dawn. The herders had not yet stirred to drive the needra to the meadows, and the mists hung still over grasses shiny with dew. Cloaked in dark cloth against the damp, she waited before an unadorned litter with Jican at her side. His tally slate was written over with notes, and he held his stylus poised while Mara dictated last-minute instructions.
Suddenly she bit her lip in agitation. ‘Gods, the excitement almost made me forget!’
Jican raised his brows. ‘Mistress?’
‘Wedding invitations.’ Mara shook her head in frustration. ‘Nacoya will direct you to the proper ritual verses. She will know even better than I who must be invited and who may be ignored. Be sure to ask her on my behalf to oversee all requirements I have forgotten.’
Jican questioned as he jotted hurried notes. ‘What about the summer stock sale, mistress? Animals to be auctioned must be registered with the Breeders’ Guild in advance.’
‘You’ve chosen well so far,’ Mara said, aware she had run out of time. ‘I trust your judgement.’ Keyoke arrived with a chosen troop of warriors, and Papewaio and Arakasi already waited, talking, a short distance away.
The men assembled with the silent efficiency of veterans and soon the last one took his place. Keyoke approached, wearing the dark, serviceable armour suitable for unobtrusive travel in the wilds. His officer’s helm carried only a single short plume, and his ornate ceremonial sword had been replaced with the one he preferred to use in battle.
Stopping before Mara, Keyoke bowed. ‘Mistress, the men are ready. Your bearers stand with the supplies, and the trailbreakers are already on their way. We may depart at your word.’
Mara dismissed Jican with a wish for prosperity and fair trading. Then she entered her litter and reclined upon the cushions. ‘Tell the men to march,’ she ordered.
As the half-naked bearers bent to shoulder her weight, she knew the swift thrill of fear. This was no formal state visit to another Lord but a bold move to steal an advantage on every other player in the Game of the Council; that boldness carried risks. As the party swung around a small hillock, Mara watched her estate house fall behind. She wondered if she would return to see it again.
Guided by Arakasi, the Acoma retinue hurried secretly along back-country trails. Each day Mara observed growing signs of strain in the soldiers’ behaviour. Tsurani soldiers would never lose discipline in the presence of their Ruling Lord or Lady, but on previous marches she had listened to quiet conversation, banter and jokes about campfires. Now the men kept silence, broken only at need and then in whispers. Their usually animated faces were now set in the expressionless masks of Tsurani warriors.
On the third day they waited in hiding until nightfall, then moved out in darkness, munching thyza bread and needra jerky as they hurried to avoid detection. The next daybreak they marched deep into the territory of a neighbouring lord, several times coming close to patrols of soldiers from the estate. Keyoke kept his men close by and avoided all contact. Even a minor lord might seize the chance to strike at trespassers if he thought his men could obliterate Mara and her fifty guards. If any other Lord knew of the queen-spawning, there was not just a chance of attack along the way, but certainty.
Mara rode in a state of fatigue, unable to rest, not only because of the constant travelling and fear, but from the thrill of anticipation as well. Gaining this new hive would do more to preserve Acoma survival than any dozen clever plots in the High Council.
Four more days passed, in exhausting succession. The company snatched sleep at odd hours, for nights were spent avoiding patrols, or wading through exposed expanses of meadow or thyza paddies along the banks of the many tributaries to the river Gagajin. At such times slaves brought up the rear, setting the disturbed seedlings straight to hide all traces of their passage. At dawn on the ninth day, Mara sat upon bare earth like a soldier and ate cheese and journey biscuit. She called Keyoke and Arakasi to come sit with her.
Both declined to share her food, as they had eaten the same cold rations earlier. She studied their faces, one lined, leathery, familiar, and as constant as the sunrise, and the other seeming little more than an illusion, a mask to fit whatever persona the moment required. ‘We have crossed three estates, each one of them well guarded. Yet no patrol has sounded the alarm. Am I to believe in the extraordinary skills of my guide and my Force Commander, or is it always this easy for armed soldiers to invade the estates of the Empire?’
‘A pertinent question, mistress.’ Arakasi regarded her with what seemed the beginning of respect. ‘One does not need a network of spies to know Keyoke is accounted a superior officer. His experience is respected throughout the Empire.’
Keyoke inclined his head towards the Spy Master at the compliment. ‘We could not have managed so well without the guidance Arakasi has given us. His knowledge of the back country is impressive, a thing the Acoma will value in times to come.’
Mara acknowledged this tacit acceptance of Arakasi. The Spy Master sat with the keen expression of a soldier, an attitude that now seemed his natural manner. The man’s ability to appear what he wished slightly unnerved Mara. ‘Tell me honestly,’ she said, ‘would you find it this easy to lead an armed company across the lands of the Acoma?’
Arakasi laughed, an unexpected sound in a humourless camp. ‘Mistress, assuredly not. Keyoke is widely admired for his knowledge of warcraft. He knows the dangers of regularly scheduled, unvarying patrols. He is prudent, and cunning, even when his command is small.’ With a look of respect at the Force Commander, he added, ‘Especially when his command is small. It is difficult for one man to trespass upon Acoma lands, let alone a force in strength.’
Keyoke seized upon a discrepancy. ‘You said “difficult”, not “impossible”.’
Araksi inclined his head in agreement. ‘True.’
Mara said, ‘Lujan’s grey warriors seemed to take our needra with small difficulty.’
Arakasi couldn’t avoid a grin. ‘Again true, but he had an advantage: I told him when and where to strike.’
Keyoke became dangerously still. ‘It seems we have something to discuss.’ He gestured, indicating his desire to withdraw. ‘My Lady?’
Mara withheld her consent. ‘Is there any estate in the Empire so well guarded that no stranger or outlaw could slip through?’
‘Only one,’ said Arakasi, apparently unconcerned with Keyoke’s ire. ‘The estate of the Lord of the Dachindo, far to the east.’
Mara smiled, as if she had won a small victory. ‘Now indeed, Keyoke, you and Arakasi have something to discuss.’ She watched as the two men rose and moved apart, conferring quietly, heads close together in the misty grey dawn. As much as Keyoke might take umbrage at the implied shortcomings in his defence of the estate, Mara knew wisdom would prevail. He would relish any information the Spy Master could offer to better his protection of his mistress. Confident that by the time of her wedding the Dachindo would no longer be the only estate impenetrable to trespassers, she sent a slave for her comb. In the last minutes before the company started off down the trail, she applied herself to the ongoing frustration of trying to work the knots from her long hair without benefit of a maid.
The day grew hot. The soldiers marched uncomplaining, through a gradually changing landscape. The lowland plains with their patchwork of paddies and meadows gave way to forested hills crowned with rocks. The trees became old and wild, veiled in flowering vines and thorn. Yet the more difficult the terrain, the more the spirits of the men rose. They had made good time, and as sunlight fell slanting across the trail, the travellers reached the far border of the Inrodaka estates. Arakasi asked for a halt. While the soldiers changed from field armour to lacquered and polished dress armour, he said, ‘We must leave this trail and cut across this ridge to another over there.’ He waved at a notch in the woodlands, barely more than a path, that led upward into denser forest.
Keyoke paused in his changing, his plumed helm half unpacked. ‘I thought cho-ja built hives in meadows or valleys.’
Arakasi wiped sweat from his forehead. The light was fading quickly and he seemed concerned that they reach their destination before nightfall. ‘Mostly that’s true; at least, I’ve never heard of a hive that’s not situated in the open.’ He pointed up the trail. ‘Further on, the woods thin. There’s a meadowed valley about a thousand feet higher up. That’s the place we seek.’
Mara overheard. ‘So this old hive is not on Inrodaka lands?’
‘No, but there is some sort of treaty nevertheless.’ Arakasi gestured to the north, where the forest grew wild and thick. ‘These lands were once part of a larger estate, who knows how many years ago. When that Lord, whoever he was, fell, his holdings were divided among the conquerors, the Inrodaka among them. This area was left unclaimed. It’s not very good land. The timber’s rich, but too difficult to log out, and there are only two or three meadows for herds, all without trails to lowland pastures. Still, the cho-ja accept the Inrodaka as their landlords without making an issue of it. Who knows how they think.’ Directing the lead soldiers up the trail, he said, ‘From here we must be cautious but restrained. We may be challenged by cho-ja soldiers. We must not fight. With a new queen in the hive, even the seasoned warriors will be very tense and aggressive. They may feint attack, so let no man draw sword, else we’ll all be slaughtered.’
Mara consulted Keyoke, then approved the Spy Master’s order. Arrayed in brilliant Acoma green, they began their climb. The trail cut sharply upward, angling between jagged outcrops of rock. Travel by litter became impossible, and even on foot Keyoke had to help Mara with the more difficult ascents. These were no switchback trails cut for humans, but paths fit only for kumi, the six-legged mountain goat of Kelewan; and for the agile cho-ja. The bearers fared worst of all, sweating and grunting under their loads, while others hauled the empty litter along by main force.
The sun shone hot on the backs of the soldiers. Strange mountain birds took flight from the trees at their approach, and thickets teemed with game. Fascinated by sights utterly new and strange, Mara never thought to complain of sore feet.
Just after midday, a shout arose from the lead patrol. Keyoke caught Mara’s arm and hurried her to the head of the trail, where a dozen cho-ja soldiers stood with spears across their upper torsos, at the ready but not menacing. Shiny black, with six jointed limbs and bodies segmented like those of insects, they all looked identical to Mara, as if struck from the mould of a guild craftsman. She regarded the aliens and felt utterly at a loss.
‘These are old hive warriors,’ Keyoke observed. ‘They will not attack us unless we give them cause.’
Keyoke’s words helped steady her. She waited, tense as her escort, while her Force Commander advanced and saluted, his upraised arm bent at the elbow, palm forward. ‘Honour to your hive.’
The nearest cho-ja spoke in a surprisingly intelligible voice. ‘Honour to your house, men of the Acoma. Who speaks? The hive must be informed of your presence.’
‘I am Keyoke, Force Commander of the Acoma.’
The lead cho-ja returned the salute. As he moved, Mara saw how his body was segmented, a larger rear thorax with four three-jointed legs and a smaller upper thorax, roughly comparable to a man’s torso, with two almost human arms. His flesh was encased in chitin, and each forearm possessed a natural ridge that appeared as sharp as a sword edge. Upon his head he wore a helm of obvious Tsurani manufacture. The face within was oval, with large multifaceted eyes above two slits where a nose should be. The cho-ja’s jaw and mouth were surprisingly human in appearance, though his voice was singsong and high-pitched. ‘I am Ixal’t, Force Leader of the Second Command of hive Kait’lk.’
‘Now I remember.’ Keyoke relaxed fractionally, as if in the presence of an old acquaintance. ‘You served during the invasion of the Thuril Highlands.’ That explained how this cho-ja recognized Acoma colours. He motioned Mara to his side. ‘This is our Lady of the Acoma. She has come to negotiate with your new queen.’
Eyes like faceted metal flickered briefly over the girl at Keyoke’s side. Then the cho-ja executed a fair imitation of a human bow. ‘Welcome, Lady. Your arrival is timely. The new warriors are restless. This hatching is abundant and we are crowded. You may pass, and may your gods bless this bargaining.’
The cho-ja moved nimbly aside and allowed the Tsurani party to continue up the trail. Mara was curious about the unexpected expertise of her Force Commander. ‘Keyoke, I didn’t know you understood the cho-ja.’
‘I know their soldiers, as much as any man can. I served with some, many years ago – when your grandfather led many houses in battle against the Easter Confederation.’ If the old campaigner felt his years, he did not show them, ascending the difficult trail with hardly a sign of exertion.
‘The cho-ja seemed to welcome us with good grace.’
‘Mistress, those were old, disciplined soldiers upon the ridge,’ Arakasi cautioned. ‘Keyoke was correct in addressing their officer. But from now until we reach the hive we must be wary. Many young warriors have been hatched to protect the new queen as she travels. These will be undisciplined and aggressive – quick to provoke to violence until the young queen is safely within the earth of her new hive.’
Keyoke cleared a thorn branch from the path. ‘You speak as one who knows the cho-ja, Arakasi,’ he said.
The Spy Master avoided the branch as it swung. ‘No man knows the cho-ja. But I once hid from Minwanabi assassins for a week in a cho-ja hive. I learned something of them. It is my nature to ask many questions about things I do not understand when the opportunity presents itself.’
Mara was intrigued. Even when the ground became suitable for travel by litter once again, she remained afoot. ‘Tell me of the cho-ja, then, Arakasi. What are they like?’
‘The older ones are as ordered as the seasons, Lady. The young are unpredictable. They are hatched in a crèche. A dozen lesser females, called rirari, do nothing but lay eggs.’ The term was archaic Tsurani, meaning a second-level queen, or duchess. ‘But the eggs are infertile. The queen swallows them whole and passes them through a chamber in her body which fertilizes them, and more.’
‘More?’ asked Mara.
‘By some cho-ja means, as the queen is being serviced by a breeding male, she determines the sex and function of each egg, or leaves it sterile. At least, this is what I have been told.’
‘They can choose these things?’ wondered Mara. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Male cho-ja are roughly divided into three groups: the breeders, the workers and the soldiers. The workers are either clever or strong, artisans or beasts of burden, depending on what the hive needs. The soldiers are both strong and clever. The breeders are stupid, but they have only one task, to mate with the queen.’
Arakasi glanced aside and saw that Mara still listened raptly. A few of the nearest soldiers paid heed to the Spy Master as well. ‘Once the queen takes residence in the royal chamber, she never moves. Workers constantly feed her, while she is passed eggs by the rirari and serviced by the breeding males. Each one mates with her for hours at a time, until near exhaustion, when he is replaced by another. You will see when we are presented to the old queen.’
‘Fascinating.’ Mara paused, a little breathless, for the trail had grown steep once again. ‘What of the young?’
‘There is much I do not know of the females,’ Arakasi admitted. ‘But as immature cho-ja, all males are free to play and grow, much like human children – except that one day these young cho-ja are sporting about like needra calves and the next they awake, knowing their time to serve has begun. Only when a new queen is born are the soldiers hatched and hastened to maturity. This makes for an aggressive, unpredictable warrior, I’m afraid. They are quick to anger, and only the new queen can command them to instant obedience.’
Arakasi fell silent, for the trail crested a small rise, to cut sharply downwards into a valley tucked like a fold between hills. Through the arched boughs of a matched pair of ulo trees, they saw a sun-warmed meadow. The grass grew emerald, too meticulously clipped to be natural.
Arakasi pointed. ‘The hive lies ahead, beyond those trees.’
Keyoke commanded the soldiers to smarten up their columns. The company started forward in battle-ready array, with their Lady protected in their midst.
As her escort reached the edge of the ulo trees, Mara’s heart quickened with excitement. Through the raised shafts of the warriors’ spears she glimpsed the far end of the meadow, where a vast mound rose, ancient in that small trees had taken root and flourished upon it. An entrance was visible on one side, arches shored up with delicately carved stonework. On the beaten path that led inward, hundreds of cho-ja hurried to and from the hive, upon what errands only they knew.
Mara paused and commanded slaves to bring her litter. She might have been too excited to ride upon the ridge, but she would meet the cho-ja queens as Lady of a great house. As the bearers shouldered the litter poles once more, Keyoke and Arakasi marched at her side. Then all stood at readiness. One of the soldiers raised a battle horn to his lips and blew an announcement call. Then the Force Commander of the Acoma ordered Mara’s escort to step briskly from the shadow of the woods into sunlight.
Nothing changed at first. The cho-ja workers hustled about their tasks much as before, until the humans reached the valley floor. Then suddenly a dozen figures emerged from behind the right side of the hive. They raced forward like a herd of needra panicked by lightning, feet pounding upon the sod. ‘Warriors,’ Arakasi said. ‘Hold the men steady: this rush is probably a feint.’ Sweating slightly under his armour, Keyoke signalled the men. None readied weapons, though many might have questioned the prudence of the order, for the cho-ja bore down at a furious gallop. Closer they came, until the Acoma soldiers could see the sunlight gleam on the razor-sharp edges of their forearms. Then, when they were close enough to strike, the cho-ja veered off at the last second. With a sound like human laughter they ran off towards the hive.
Mara watched them go with a shuddering sigh of relief. ‘They are so swift. How did we ever manage to subdue them?’
Arakasi wiped his brow and returned an indulgent smile. ‘We never did, Lady. Humans settled land the cho-ja never wanted, until the queens found their hives surrounded. By then it was easier for both sides to make treaties than to fight. It takes skilled soldiers to face a force of cho-ja and survive. When aroused, they are efficient killers.’
As the retinue continued steadily towards the mound, more and more cho-ja appeared. Soon hundreds passed on every side, some with baskets strapped to their thoraxes, others wearing belts slung with tools. Aroused to curiosity by such industry, Mara peered through the curtain of her litter. ‘Arakasi, is this hive of normal size?’
‘A little larger than most, mistress, but not remarkably so.’
‘How many cho-ja live within?’
Without hesitation, Arakasi replied, ‘Twenty, twenty-five thousand.’
Mara was stunned. Before her lay a city in the wilderness. ‘How many will travel with the new queen?’
‘I don’t know. In the past, I think the hives would split when population pressure became too much.’ Arakasi shrugged. ‘Now there is little apparent logic in the decision to birth a new queen. For, despite their breeding continuously, the cho-ja control the hive’s numbers. Perhaps the old queen must reproduce herself each generation. Perhaps it is chance that brings a new queen. I do not know.’
Close at hand the mound seemed a symmetrical, steep-sided hill. The soldiers tightened formation, for the roadway became crowded. Here the grass had worn away to fine dust continually stirred by busy feet. Several times Mara’s party was approached by bands of young cho-ja. They pointed and stared with metallic eyes and chirped lively phrases in their own tongue, but the adults paid the visitors little heed. A band of workers scuttled past, carrying bundles of wood large enough to require five humans to lift, yet one cho-ja worker was sufficient for the task.
Then a band of young warriors came racing towards Mara’s party. Workers scattered from their path, bundles swaying, and jaws clacking a strange signal of dismay. Within a matter of moments the Tsurani found themselves surrounded. Keyoke called a halt. Dust swirled, and spear butts struck the earth in the formal stance of soldiers at rest, though the cho-ja appeared ready to fight. None was armed or helmeted in the manner of the guards upon the ridge. But with their powerful, naturally armoured bodies and razor-sharp forearm ridges, they would still make fearsome opponents.
