didn't wait to be spoken to.
"Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Good morning, Your Highness; sorry to bother you. I just caught aninteresting item in your report. This business on Amaterasu. What sortof a planet is it, politically? I don't seem to recall."
"Why, they have a republican government, sir; a very complicated setup.Really, it's a junk heap. When anything goes badly, they always buildsomething new into the government, but they never abolish anything. Theyhave a president, a premier, and an executive cabinet, and a tricamerallegislature, and two complete and distinct judiciaries. The premier isalways the presidential candidate getting the next highest number ofvotes. In the present instance, the president, who controls theplanetary militia, is accusing the premier, who controls the police, offraud in the election of the middle house of the legislature. Each issupported by the judiciary he controls. Practically every citizenbelongs either to the militia or the police auxiliaries. I am lookingforward to further reports from Amaterasu," he added dryly.
"I daresay they'll be interesting. Send them to me in full, and red-starthem, if you please, Prince Travann."
He went back to the reports. The Ministry of Science and Technology hadsent up a lengthy one. The only trouble with it was that everythingreported was duplication of work that had been done centuries before.Well, no. A Dr. Dandrik, of the physics department of the ImperialUniversity here in Asgard announced that a definite limit of accuracy inmeasuring the velocity of accelerated subnucleonic particles had beenestablished--16.067543333--times light-speed. That seemed to be typical;the frontiers of science, now, were all decimal points. The Ministry ofEducation had a little to offer; historical scholarship was stillactive, at least. He was reading about a new trove of source-materialthat had come to light on Uller, from the Sixth Century Atomic Era, whenthe door screen buzzed and flashed.
* * * * *
He lit it, and his son Rodrik appeared in it, with Snooks, the littlered hound, squirming excitedly in the Crown Prince's arms. The dog beganbarking at once, and the boy called through the phone:
"Good morning, father; are you busy?"
"Oh, not at all." He pressed the release button. "Come on in."
Immediately, the little hound leaped out of the princely arms and camedashing into the study and around the desk, jumping onto his lap. Theboy followed more slowly, sitting down in the deskside chair and drawinghis foot up under him. Paul greeted Snooks first--people can wait, butfor little dogs everything has to be right now--and rummaged in a draweruntil he found some wafers, holding one for Snooks to nibble. Then hebecame aware that his son was wearing leather shorts and tall buskins.
"Going out somewhere?" he asked, a trifle enviously.
"Up in the mountains, for a picnic. Olva's going along."
And his tutor, and his esquire, and Olva's companion-lady, and a dozenThoran riflemen, of course, and they'd be in continuous screen-contactwith the Palace.
"That ought to be a lot of fun. Did you get all your lessons done?"
"Physics and math and galactiography," Rodrik told him. "And ProfessorGuilsan's going to give me and Olva our history after lunch."
They talked about lessons, and about the picnic. Of course, Snooks wasgoing on the picnic, too. It was evident, though, that Rodrik hadsomething else on his mind. After a while, he came out with it.
"Father, you know I've been a little afraid, lately," he said.
"Well, tell me about it, son. It isn't anything about you and Olva, isit?"
Rod was fourteen; the little Princess Olva thirteen. They would bemarriageable in six years. As far as anybody could tell, they were bothquite happy about the marriage which had been arranged for them yearsago.
"Oh, no; nothing like that. But Olva's sister and a couple others ofmother's ladies-in-waiting were to a psi-medium, and the medium toldthem that there were going to be changes. Great and frightening changeswas what she said."
"She didn't specify?"
"No. Just that: great and frightening changes. But the only change ofthat kind I can think of would be ... well, something happening to you."
Snooks, having eaten three wafers, was trying to lick his ear. He pushedthe little dog back into his lap and pummeled him gently with his lefthand.
"You mustn't let mediums' gabble worry you, son. These psi-mediums havereal powers, but they can't turn them off and on like a water tap. Whenthey don't get anything, they don't like to admit it, and they inventthings. Always generalities like that; never anything specific."
"I know all that." The boy seemed offended, as though somebody wereexplaining that his mother hadn't really found him out in the rosegarden. "But they talked about it to some of their friends, and it seemsthat other mediums are saying the same thing. Father, do you rememberwhen the Haval Valley reactor blew up? All over Odin, the mediums hadbeen talking about a terrible accident, for a month before thathappened."
"I remember that." Harv Dorflay believed that somebody had been falselyinformed that the emperor would visit the plant that day. "These greatand frightening changes will probably turn out to be a new fad inabstract sculpture. Any change frightens most people."
They talked more about mediums, and then about aircars and aircarracing, and about the Emperor's Cup race that was to be flown in amonth. The communications screen began flashing and buzzing, and afterhe had silenced it with the busy-button for the third time, Rodrik saidthat it was time for him to go, came around to gather up Snooks, andwent out, saying that he'd be home in time for the banquet. The screenbegan to flash again as he went out.
* * * * *
It was Prince Ganzay, the Prime Minister. He looked as though he had apersistent low-level toothache, but that was his ordinary expression.
"Sorry to bother Your Majesty. It's about these chiefs-of-state. CountGadvan, the Chamberlain, appealed to me, and I feel I should ask youradvice. It's the matter of precedence."
"Well, we have a fixed rule on that. Which one arrived first?"
"Why, the Adityan, but it seems King Ranulf insists that he's entitledto precedence, or, rather, his Lord Marshal does. This Lord Koreffinsists that his king is not going to yield precedence to a commoner."
"Then he can go home to Durendal!" He felt himself growing angry--allthe little angers of the morning were focusing on one spot. He forcedthe harshness out of his voice. "At a court function, somebody has to gofirst, and our rule is order of arrival at the Palace. That rule wasestablished to avoid violating the principle of equality to allcivilized peoples and all planetary governments. We're not going to setit aside for the King of Durendal, or anybody else."
Prince Ganzay nodded. Some of the toothache expression had gone out ofhis face, now that he had been relieved of the decision.
"Of course, Your Majesty." He brightened a little. "Do you think wemight compromise? Alternate the precedence, I mean?"
"Only if this First Citizen Yaggo consents. If he does, it would be agood idea."
"I'll talk to him, sir." The toothache expression came back. "Anotherthing, Your Majesty. They've both been invited to attend the PlenarySession, this afternoon."
"Well, no trouble there; they can enter by different doors and sit invisitors' boxes at opposite ends of the hall."
"Well, sir, I wasn't thinking of precedence. But this is to be anElective Session--new Ministers to replace Prince Havaly, of Defense,deceased, and Count Frask, of Science and Technology, elevated to theBench. There seems to be some difference of opinion among some of theMinisters and Counselors. It's very possible that the Session maydegenerate into an outright controversy."
"Horrible," Paul said seriously. "I think, though, that ourdistinguished guests will see that the Empire can survive difference ofopinion, and even outright controversy. But if you think it might have abad effect, why not postpone the election?"
"Well--It's been postponed three times, already, sir."
"Postpone it permanently. Advertise for bids on two ro
bot Ministers,Defense, and Science and Technology. If they're a success, we can set upa project to design a robot emperor."
The Prime Minister's face actually twitched and blanched at theblasphemy. "Your Majesty is joking," he said, as though he wanted to bereassured on the point.
"Unfortunately, I am. If my job could be robotized, maybe I could takemy wife and my son and our little dog and go fishing for a while."
But, of course, he couldn't. There were only two alternatives: theEmpire or Galactic anarchy. The galaxy was too big to hold generalelections, and there had to be a supreme ruler, and a positive