ious that opposition to the proposition was
dwindling. Cries of, "Vote! Vote!" began to be heard from its
supporters. Prince Ganzay rose from his desk and came to the throne.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he said softly. "I am opposed to this
proposition, but I am convinced that enough favor it to pass it, even
over Your Majesty's veto. Before the vote is called, does Your Majesty
wish my resignation?"

He rose and stepped down beside the Prime Minister, putting an arm over
Prince Ganzay's shoulder.

"Far from it, old friend," he said, in a distinctly audible voice. "I
will have too much need for you. But, as for the proposal, I don't
oppose it. I think it an excellent one; it has my approval." He lowered
his voice. "As soon as it's passed, place General Dorflay's name in
nomination."

The Prime Minister looked at him sadly for a moment, then nodded,
returning to his desk, where he rapped for order and called for the
vote.

"Well, if you can't lick them, join them," Marris said as he sat down
beside her. "And if they start chasing you, just yell, 'There he goes;
follow me!'"

The proposal carried, almost unanimously. Prince Ganzay then presented
the name of Captain-General Dorflay for elevation to the Bench of
Counselors, and the emperor decreed it. As soon as the Session was
adjourned and he could do so, he slipped out the little door behind the
throne, into an elevator.

* * * * *

In the room at the top of the Octagon Tower, he laid aside his belt and
dress dagger and unfastened his tunic, than sat down in his deep chair
and called a serving robot. It was the one which had brought him his
breakfast, and he greeted it as a friend; it lit a cigarette for him,
and poured a drink of brandy. For a long time he sat, smoking and
sipping and looking out the wide window to the west, where the orange
sun was firing the clouds behind the mountains, and he realized that he
was abominably tired. Well, no wonder; more Empire history had been made
today than in the years since he had come to the Throne.

Then something behind him clicked. He turned his head, to see Yorn
Travann emerge from the concealed elevator. He grinned and lifted his
drink in greeting.

"I thought you'd be a little late," he said. "Everybody trying to climb
onto the bandwagon?"

Yorn Travann came forward, unbuckling his belt and laying it with
Paul's; he sank into the chair opposite, and the robot poured him a
drink.