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unpleasant. Bounced continually not only against the creature's painful spine, but also from side to side, it wasn't long before he began to feel extremely queasy. By the time they arrived at the rendezvous more than an hour later, he was in no state to make a bid for freedom even if the opportunity had presented itself.

It seemed an age before they hauled him down and he felt firm ground under his feet again. He staggered and would have fallen had he not stumbled into one of the tribe's males. The sudden strong alien scent was the last straw, and as he was grabbed by the wrists and hauled upright, he began to retch. Doubling over, he was unable to stop his stomach from expelling its contents all over the sand.

"What's wrong with him?" he heard a voice demand. "Is he ill?"

"He's not used to land beasts," came the laughing reply as, still retching, he was thrust forward.

"When he's done, Lieutenant, give him some water and take him to the medical unit. They're expecting him."

"Aye, General Raiban."

Now rid of what little had been in it, his stomach spasms began to ease, and he was able to straighten up. Still shaking, he was temporarily beyond embarrassment. His bonds were cut and he slowly pulled his arms round in front of him. Then metal cuffs were snapped on his wrists. A canteen was handed to him. He could smell the water and took it gratefully.

"Does he understand Sholan?"

"Oh, yes," was the reply. "He spoke to Fyak. He was Kezule!"

"So you're the god, are you?"

He drank deeply, already feeling better, before even looking at the speaker. He'd recognized the scent as female. They still hadn't learned to keep their females decently locked in the breeding room. He considered not replying, or insisting that he speak only to a male, then decided on a safer option instead.

"I only speak to Commander." He hated their language almost as much as he hated them.

"I am the commander," was the soft reply. "I'm General Raiban."

He closed his eyes as the canteen was taken from him, trying to force himself not to react, not to let them see his revulsion at the presence of the female. It would be viewed by them as a weakness.

"I am General Kezule," he admitted, opening his eyes.

"Well come to the future, General. I think you'll find it somewhat different from the Shola you so recently left behind." She turned away abruptly and began to walk toward one of the larger vehicles accompanied by three of the desert males.

A tug on his arm brought his attention back to his immediate situation.

"You've an appointment with the physician," said the trooper, leading him toward one of the larger tents. Two armed guards followed close behind.

     
    * * *

     
    Here the indignities to his person started. His hands were released, and when, scenting yet another female present, he refused to remove his clothing for the medical examination, they held him and forcibly stripped him. He was dragged to a table and held there prone while they prodded and poked at him until they were satisfied he had no broken bones or internal injuries.

Released and allowed to get to his feet, his clothes were held out to him by the female. He snatched them from her, his crest rising and his tongue flicking out in anger.

"How dare you treat me like this! Don't you know who I am?" he demanded of the nearest male guard. "Not even the basest criminal is exposed to females and not only do you let this one see me naked, but you allow her to touch me!"

With one backhanded blow of his arm, he sent the female flying across the room till she collided with a metal cabinet. "Get her stinking body away from me!" he roared.

The room exploded into activity. He was instantly grabbed by the guards as the physician ran to the side of the unconscious female.

He struggled against them, this time using what he could muster of his full strength. Then he felt the coldness of a gun muzzle at the base of his neck and froze.

"That's better," a voice purred in his ear. "I wouldn't