andautomatic--which meant hereditary--means of succession.
"Whose opinion seems to differ from whose, and about what?" he asked.
"Well, Count Duklass and Count Tammsan want to have the Ministry ofScience and Technology abolished, and its functions and personneldistributed. Count Duklass means to take over the technological sectionsunder Economics, and Count Tammsan will take over the science part underEducation. The proposal is going to be introduced at this Session byCount Guilfred, the Minister of Health and Sanity. He hopes to get someof the bio-and psycho-science sections for his own Ministry."
"That's right. Duklass gets the hide, Tammsan gets the head and horns,and everybody who hunts with them gets a cut of the meat. That's goodsound law of the chase. I'm not in favor of it, myself. Prince Ganzay,at this session, I wish you'd get Captain-General Dorflay nominated forthe Bench. I feel that it is about time to honor him with elevation."
"General Dorflay? But why, Your Majesty?"
"Great galaxy, do you have to ask? Why, because the man's a ravinglunatic. He oughtn't even to be trusted with a sidearm, let alone fivecompanies of armed soldiers. Do you know what he told me this morning?"
"That somebody is training a Nidhog swamp-crawler to crawl up theOctagon Tower and bite you at breakfast, I suppose. But hasn't that beengoing on for quite a while, sir?"
"It was a gimmick in one of the cooking robots, but that's aside fromthe question. He's finally named the master mind behind all thesenightmares of his, and who do you think it is? Yorn Travann!"
* * * * *
The Prime Minister's face grew graver than usual. Well, it was somethingto look grave about; some of these days----
"Your Majesty, I couldn't possibly agree more about the general's mentalcondition, but I really should say that, crazy or not, he is not alonein his suspicions of Prince Travann. If sharing them makes me a lunatic,too, so be it, but share them I do."
Paul felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. "That's quite too much and toolittle, Prince Ganzay," he said.
"With your permission, I'll elaborate. Don't think that I suspect PrinceTravann of any childish pranks with elevators or viewscreens orcooking-robots," the Prime Minister hastened to disclaim, "but Idefinitely do suspect him of treasonous ambitions. I suppose YourMajesty knows that he is the first Minister of Security in centuries whohas assumed personal control of both the planetary and municipal police,instead of delegating his _ex officio_ powers.
"Your Majesty may not know, however, of some of the peculiar uses he hasbeen making of those authorities. Does Your Majesty know that he hasrecruited the Security Guard up to at least ten times the strengthneeded to meet any conceivable peace-maintenance problem on this planet,and that he has been piling up huge quantities of heavy combatequipment--guns up to 200-millimeter, heavy contragravity, evengun-cutters and bomb-and-rocket boats? And does Your Majesty know thatmost of this armament is massed within fifteen minutes' flight-time ofthis Palace? Or that Prince Travann has at his disposal from two and ahalf to three times, in men and firepower, the combined strength of thePlanetary Militia and the Imperial Army on this planet?"
"I know. It has my approval. He's trying to salvage some of the youngnonworkers through exposing them to military discipline. A good many ofthem, I believe, have gone off-planet on their discharge from the SG andhired as mercenaries, which is a far better profession than voteselling."
"Quite a plausible explanation: Prince Travann is nothing if notplausible," the Prime Minister agreed. "And does Your Majesty know that,because of repeated demands for support from the Ministry of Security,the Imperial Navy has been scattered all over the Empire, and that thereis not a naval craft bigger than a scout-boat within fifteen hundredlight-years of Odin?"
That was absolutely true. Paul could only nod agreement. Prince Ganzaycontinued:
"He has been doing some peculiar things as Police Chief of Asgard, too.For instance, there are two powerful nonworkers' voting-bloc bosses, BigMoogie Blisko and Zikko the Nose--I assure Your Majesty that I am notinventing these names; that's what the persons are actually called--whohave been enjoying the favor and support of Prince Travann. On a numberof occasions, their smaller rivals, leaders of less important gangs,have been arrested, often on trumped-up charges, and held incommunicadountil either Moogie or Zikko could move into their territories and annextheir nonworker followers. These two bloc-bosses are subsidized,respectively, by the Steel and Shipbuilding Cartels and by the ReactionProducts and Chemical Cartels, but actually, they are controlled byPrince Travann. They, in turn, control between them about seventy percent of the nonworkers in Asgard."
"And you think this adds up to a plot against the Throne?"
"A plot to seize the Throne, Your Majesty."
"Oh, come, Prince Ganzay! You're talking like Dorflay!"
"Hear me out, Your Majesty. His Imperial Highness is fourteen years old;it will be eleven years before he will be legally able to assume thepowers of emperor. In the dreadful event of your immediate death, itwould mean a regency for that long. Of course, your Ministers andCounselors would be the ones to name the Regent, but I know how theywould vote with Security Guard bayonets at their throats. And regencymight not be the limit of Prince Travann's ambitions."
"In your own words, quite plausible, Prince Ganzay. It rests, however,on a very questionable foundation. The assumption that Prince Travann isstupid enough to want the Throne."
He had to terminate the conversation himself and blank the screen.Viktor Ganzay was still staring at him in shocked incredulity when hisimage vanished. Viktor Ganzay could not imagine anybody not wanting theThrone, not even the man who had to sit on it.
* * * * *
He sat, for a while, looking at the darkened screen, a little worried.Viktor Ganzay had a much better intelligence service than he hadbelieved. He wondered how much Ganzay had found out that he hadn'tmentioned. Then he went back to the reports. He had gotten down to theMinistry of Fine Arts when the communications screen began callingattention to itself again.
When he flipped the switch, a woman smiled out of it at him. Her blondhair was rumpled, and she wore a dressing gown; her smile brightened ashis face appeared in her screen.
"Hi!" she greeted him.
"Hi, yourself. You just get up?"
She raised a hand to cover a yawn. "I'll bet you've been up reigning forhours. Were Rod and Snooks in to see you yet?"
He nodded. "They just left. Rod's going on a picnic with Olva in themountains." How long had it been since he and Marris had been on apicnic--a real picnic, with less than fifty guards and as many courtiersalong? "Do you have much reigning to do, this afternoon?"
She grimaced. "Flower Festivals. I have to make personal tri-diappearances, live, with messages for the loving subjects. Three minuteson, and a two-minute break between. I have forty for this afternoon."
"Ugh! Well, have a good time, sweetheart. All I have is lunch with theBench, and then this Plenary Session." He told her about Ganzay's fearof outright controversy.
"Oh, fun! Maybe somebody'll pull somebody's whiskers, or something. I'min on that, too."
The call-indicator in front of him began glowing with the code-symbol ofthe Minister of Security.
"We can always hope, can't we? Well, Yorn Travann's trying to get me,now."
"Don't keep him waiting. Maybe I can see you before the Session." Shemade a kissing motion with her lips at him, and blanked the screen.
He flipped the switch again, and Prince Travann was on the screen. TheSecurity Minister didn't waste time being sorry to bother him.
"Your Majesty, a report's just come in that there's a serious riot atthe University; between five and ten thousand students are attacking theAdministration Center, lobbing stench bombs into it, and threatening tohang Chancellor Khane. They have already overwhelmed and disarmed thecampus police, and I've sent two companies of the Gendarme riot brigade,under an officer I can trust to handle things firmly but intellig
ently.We don't want any indiscriminate stunning or tear-gassing or shooting;all sorts of people can have sons and daughters mixed up in a studentriot."
"Yes. I seem to recall student riots in which the sons of his lateHighness Prince Travann and his late Majesty Rodrik XXI were involved."He deliberated the point for a moment, and added: "This scarcely soundslike a frat-fight or a panty-raid, though. What seems to have triggeredit?"
"The story I got--a rather hysterical call for help from Khanehimself--is that they're protesting an action of his in dismissing afaculty member. I have a couple of undercovers at the University, andI'm trying to contact them. I