examined the man's head. For an instant, he looked a little sick,
then he looked away from the tiny hole in front of the man's ear. He
got to his feet and waved a hand.

"Pinwheel," he shouted.

* * * * *

The newly enrobed King of Oredan settled back in his chair and shook
the heavy cloth back from his shoulder.

"So," he said thoughtfully, "it's all over." He sighed.

"And it's all just beginning, too. Now, I'll have to form a
government." He smiled sadly.

"It's funny, Don. For years, I've dreamed of actually being king. Now
it's suddenly happened and I feel about as helpless as they come." He
stretched out a hand. "All at once, I'm realizing it's pretty rough for
a schoolboy to suddenly find himself with a whole nation to run. I
don't know where to start."

"You'll get used to it, Pete." Don smiled at him. "Get yourself a few
really competent advisors. Tell them what you want, and let them go out
and get some competent people to do things. And you've got it whipped."

"Yeah." Pete nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's the way it's done. But----
Well, I asked for it. And they handed it to me." He looked directly at
Don.

"How about you? You've got plenty of clan rank, you know. What
department do you want?"

Don shook his head slowly. "Don't look at me," he advised. "They
offered me a spot in the Stellar Guard and I'm signing up." He glanced
around the room.

"I've got no place here."

"What are you talking about?" Pete frowned. "I owe this whole thing to
you. I wouldn't even be alive if you hadn't been around. You can have
anything you want here, and you know it. What can the Federation offer
you?"

Don shrugged. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "Lot of work, of course.
Pride of accomplishment, maybe. Peace of mind. Hard to say. Only one
thing I'm sure of. I wouldn't work out here."

"I don't get it." Pete shook his head.

Don looked at him, his face expressionless.

"Look, Pete. Do you really like me?"

"Why, of course. You saved my life and set me on the throne. I told you
that."

"Not just what I mean. Do you feel perfectly relaxed and easy when I'm
around? Would you really call me a close friend?"

Pete squirmed in his chair. Uneasily, he looked overhead at the tassled
canopy.

"That's a lousy way to put it," he complained.

"Well?" Don's face was still expressionless.

Pete forced himself to look directly at him.

"I don't know. I ... well, you've done