Free Striker by Lexi Ander Page A

devices."
    He paused, clippers hovering over the wire he wanted to slice. Everyone knew L'Eemas who reached the age of twenty years had an overwhelming urge to destroy themselves in the most spectacular way possible. Many made the journey back to their homeworld to hurl themselves into their solar system's sun. Those who could not make the journey in time blew themselves up; at times innocent bystanders became caught in the blast.
    "Otho …" What did he say?
    Otho began to laugh, the noise see-sawing out of him. "Prince Zeus, we L'Eemas do not destroy ourselves haphazardly. No others have more expertise than we do when it comes to the creation and handling of such devices. Even though the prospect of such a grandiose sendoff into the next life sounds divine, I am not suffering from the need to make such a gesture. Accidental death in such a way is not honorable."
    Zeus breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Is there a reason you already experiment with explosives?"
    "If the Bespoken cannot be found, the grid will fall, and the V'Saar will invade. We must find ways to defeat them, and beat them back. The beauty of the explosion is one way to fight them."
    "I hope it does not come to that, although I am sure your explosions are fantastic."
    "Oh, they will be better than fantastic. L'Eemas of age will be clamoring to try out one of my packets. It is rare to have a chance to extinguish ourselves in such a different way. Not that being swallowed by a star is not the ultimate demise, but to be able to gain extra honor in the defense of an unstoppable invasion, especially when survival is a calculated one percent if the barrier falls and the V'Saar invade."
    "As much as I am sure the extra honor of such a death would be good for your people, I would rather save ninety-nine percent of the population, instead."
    Otho gave a hefty sigh and Zeus could see his dark toes curl. "I know, but the explosions would be pretty, too."
    He paused again. How did one politely inquire about another's sanity when he had already been reassured Otho did not suffer from his race's mania—yet?
    Abruptly, Otho began to hee-haw in laughter. Zeus watched as Otho fell to the floor, clutching his belly. Large violet eyes gazed at Zeus, eyelids fluttered with excess mirth. For such a cute little one, Zeus secretly abhorred the sound of Otho's laughter. The off-key tone hurt his ears. He covered them, rubbing slightly to relieve the ringing.
    "Sorry." Chirps broke up the screech of Otho's laugh. "You have been tense the last several days, and I could not help but to joke with you."
    Zeus teetered between exasperation and humor. Otho was correct. He over analyzed every move they needed to make, fixated on his worry that he would be unable to protect his brothers, Dargon and Alpha, his family, or the Fal'Amoric.
    He could not withhold his laughter, Otho might have a strange sense of humor, but at this point, the release felt good. Making love at the end of the day assisted in easing the tension. He found it increasingly harder to stay in a positive frame of mind the closer they came to their destination.
    Zeus met Otho's purple gaze. "Thank you. I needed that." A thought occurred to Zeus and he asked before he could call the words back. "Are there any L'Eema who do not end their lives at twenty?"
    Otho's nose wrinkled in disdain. "Not many. There is no honor in resisting what comes naturally to us. It is part of who and what we are. We go willingly into the next life. Those who refuse to follow instinct, or the ones who are wired wrong and do not feel the urge, are doomed to be born as a L'Eema again. They spend the rest of their lives living in dishonor. Dead to their family, unable to return home, and ignored by those of us who cross them in our travels, they become nothing. They are ghosts."
    "How do you know they have denied their urges?"
    "Their eyes change to a deep maroon. The longer they resist, the more unstable they become, or so I have heard. I have