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“Yes.” Yorn Travann got out his cigarettes and lit one. Paul glanced at the robot, hoping that its feelings hadn’t been hurt. “All these native uprisings I’ve been blowing up out of inter-tribal knife fights, and all these civil wars my people have been manufacturing; there’ll be more of them, and I’ll start yelling my head off for an adequate Space Navy, and after we get it, these local troubles will all stop, and then what’ll we be expected to do? Scrap the ships?”

They both knew what would be done with some of them. It would have to be done stealthily, while nobody was looking, but some of those ships would go far beyond the boundaries of the Empire, and new things would happen. New worlds, new problems. Great and frightening changes.

“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.”