wheelchair began to glide up it. The big moment at last.

The Emperor smiled, shook Uncle James's hand the way he would shake a

turkey's claw, said a few words, this gallant survivor, this embodiment

of history, this remnant of our glorious past, and put a sash around

his neck. At the end of the sash there was a mud-colored medal the

size of a cookie, which seemed to have a portrait of the Emperor on

it. That was it. Carlotta found herself wheeling Uncle James down the

ramp a moment later. Evidently the old man wasn't expected to say

anything in reply. They couldn't even stay on the platform.

For this they had traveled all the way from Berkeley? "Will you find us

our driver?" she said to Ned Townes. "We might as well go back home now."

Townes looked shocked. "Oh, no! You can't do that. There are further

ceremonies, and then a banquet at the palace this afternoon for all the

celebrities."

"Uncle James doesn't eat banquet food. And he's getting very tired."

"Even so. It would be terrible if you left now." Townes tugged at his

jowls. "Look, stay another hour, at least. You can't just grab the

medal and disappear. That's the Emperor up there, young lady."

"I don't give a d.a.m.n if he's-"

But Townes was gone. The Emperor was awarding another medal, this time

to a wide-shouldered woman who already was wearing an a.s.sortment of

decorations that had a glittery Southern California look about them.

"Permit me," a deep confident voice said. The Brazilian again. Leaning

over the rope, tapping her on the shoulder. Carlotta had forgotten all

about him.

"Is it possible to discuss, now, an opportunity for me to record the great

general's reminiscences, perhaps?"

"Look, we don't have time for that. I just want to get my uncle out of

here and back across the bay."

He looked distressed. "But before you leave-half an hour fifteen minutes

She glanced down at the emerald ring. A gleam came into her eyes.

"There's a fee, you know. For his time. We can't just let him talk to

people for free."