“Paul, we agreed upon this long ago, when we were still boys at the University. The Empire stopped growing, and when things stop growing, they start dying, the death of petrifaction. And when petrifaction is complete, the cracking and the crumbling starts, and there’s no way of stopping it. But if we can get people out onto new planets, the Empire won’t die; it’ll start growing again.”
“You didn’t start that thing at the University, this morning, yourself, did you?”
“Not the student riot, no. But the hooligan attack, yes. That was some of my own men. The real hooligans began looting after Handrosan had gotten the students out of the district. We collared all of them, including their boss, Nutchy the Knife, right away, and as soon as we did that, Big Moogie and Zikko the Nose tried to move in. We’re cleaning them up now. By tomorrow morning there won’t be one of these nonworkers’ voting blocks left in Asgard, and by the end of the week they’ll be cleaned up all over Odin. I have discovered a plot, and they’re all involved in it.”
“Wait a moment.” Paul got to his feet. “That reminds me; Harv Dorflay’s hiding Rod and Olva out in the mountains. I wanted him out of here while things were happening. I’ll have to call him and tell him it’s safe to come in, now.”
“Well, zip up your tunic and put your dagger on; you look as though you’d been arrested, disarmed and searched.”
“That’s right.” He hastily repaired his appearance and went to the screen across the room, punching out the combination of the screen with Rodrik’s picnic party.
A young lieutenant of the Household Troops appeared in it, and had to be reassured. He got General Dorflay.
“Your Majesty! You are all right?”
“Perfectly all right, general, and it’s quite safe to bring His Imperial Highness in. The conspiracy against the Throne has been crushed.”
“Oh, thank the gods! Is Prince Travann a prisoner?”
“Quite the contrary, general. It was our loyal and devoted subject, Prince Travann, who crushed the conspiracy.”
“But—But, Your Majesty—!”
“You aren’t to be blamed for suspecting him, general. His agents were working in the very innermost councils of the conspirators. Every one of the people whom you suspected—with excellent reason—was actually working to defeat the plot. Think back, general; the scheme to put the gun in the viewscreen, the scheme to sabotage the elevator, the scheme to introduce assassins into the orchestra with guns built into their trumpets—every one came to your notice because of what seemed to be some indiscretion of the plotters, didn’t it?”
“Why … why, yes, Your Majesty!” By this time tomorrow, he would have a complete set of memories for each one of them. “You mean, the indiscretions were deliberate?”
“Your vigilance and loyalty made it necessary for them to resort to these fantastic expedients, and your vigilance defeated them as fast as they came to your notice. Well, today, Prince Travann and I struck back. I may tell you, in confidence, that every one of the conspirators is dead. Killed in this afternoon’s rioting—which was incited for that purpose by Prince Travann.”
“Then—Then there will be no more plots against your life?” There was a note of regret in the old man’s voice.
“No more, Your Venerable Highness.”
“But—What did Your Majesty call me?” he asked incredulously.
“I took the honor of being the first to address you by your new title, Prince-Counselor Dorflay.”
He left the old man overcome, and blubbering happily on the shoulder of the Crown Prince, who winked at his father out of the screen. Prince Travann had gotten a couple of fresh drinks from the robot and handed one to him when he returned to his chair.
“He’ll be finding the Bench of Counselors riddled with treason inside a week,” Travann said. “You handled that just right, though. Another case of making problems solve each other.”
“You were telling me about a plot you’d discovered.”
“Oh, yes: this is one to top Dorflay’s best efforts. All the voting-bloc bosses on Odin are in a conspiracy to start a civil war to give them a chance to loot the planet. There isn’t a word of truth in it, of course, but it’ll do to arrest and hold them for a few days, and by that time some of my undercovers will be in control of every nonworker vote on the planet. After all, the Cartels put an end to competition in every other business; why not a Voting Cartel, too? Then, whenever there’s an election, we just advertise for bids.”
“Why, that would mean absolute control—”
“Of the nonworking vote, yes. And I’ll guarantee, personally, that in five years the politics of Odin will have become so unbearably corrupt and abusive that the intellectuals, the technicians, the business people, even the nobility, will be flocking to the polls to vote, and if only half of them turn out, they’ll snow the nonworkers under. And that’ll mean, eventually, an end to vote-selling, and the nonworkers’ll have to find work. We’ll find it for them.”
“Great and frightening changes.” Yorn Travann laughed; he recognized the phrase. Probably started it himself. Paul lifted his glass. “To the Minister of Disturbance!”
“Your Majesty!” They drank to each other, and then Yorn Travann said, “We had a lot of wild dreams, when we were boys; it looks as though we’re starting to make some of them come true. You know, when we were in the University, the students would never have done what they did today. They didn’t even do it ten years ago, when Vann Evaratt was dismissed.”
“And Van Evaratt’s pupil came back to Odin and touched this whole thing off.” He thought for a moment. “I wonder what Faress has, in that anticipation effect.”
“I think I can see what can come out of it. If he can
