"Let me be certain I have the players straight,"

said Jessine. The Haiken Maru want Lomax in the seat, as Wiley's puppeteer - maybe his regent. Sclerida wants the seat for himself, but hasn't got a prayer for that, or of becoming regent, not after that scandal - did he really

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think his wife would let his boyfriends live in her house?

"So Sclerida would need to ... dispose ... of Wiley and marry Dov to me or Tira. Blech."

Jessine didn't like young Sclerida - he was shal- low, egotistical and stupid to boot.

"You could be regent for Wiley, Madame,"

offered Kitchley. "And Sclerida could many you to Dov and gain the seat that way."

"No, he couldn't marry me to Dov," she snapped. "I wouldn't many Dov Sclerida."

Kitchley protested. "But, Madame, to protect the succession..."

'The succession cannot be protected, Kitchley," said Jessine sharply. "Wiley is not fit to rule, regardless of regent or advisors. If he takes the Secretariat, the Pact will take another step down towards death."

"If he doesn't, the Pact will die immediately,"

shot back Kitchley.

"Then we're doomed, aren't we?" Jessine leaned her seat back again. "Because I don't think that Sclerida or Lomax could run the Pact for anything but their own benefit."

They were both silent for a moment.

'There is Governor Merikur."

"Who?*' asked Jessine.

'The governor of Harmony Cl.u.s.ter," replied

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Kitchley. "Well, governor pro tern. He was Admiral Merikur until the Kona Tatsu a.s.sa.s.sinated Governor Windsor. I believe he's on his way to Earth, with a fleet of duster command ships.'*

"Oh, splendid," muttered Jessine. "Another hand in the pot. And who does Governor Merikur intend to many? Me, Tira or Wiley?"

"I'm not sure he knows that the High Secre- tary is dead," replied Kitchley thoughtfully. "He's been en route for a few weeks now."

Jessine's eyes narrowed. "What's he after then?"

Kitchley raised his eyebrow. "With a cl.u.s.ter command fleet? I understand he's already taken over Apex Cl.u.s.ter."

"Rebellion? Before the Secretary died? How ambitious!"

"Begun by Governor Windsor, Madame. That would be why the Kona Tatsu killed him."

"How curious," murmured Jessine. "A man without a corporation. I mean, Lomax is run by the Haiken Maru, and Sclerida has Naval Logis- tics . . . what did Windsor have? Or who had him?*'

Jessine moved restlessly through the crowded room toward Kitchley's displays. The way you handle things, I have to be glad we're on the same side. You're an expert tactician."

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"Oh, no," said Kitchley with modesty. "It would not be a life for me, fighting and plotting- 1 will do what is necessary to protect the Pact, but I could not make a career out of aggression.

You will find that many of the aliens working here feel as I do." He paused, watching the fire from a Kanovsky 40-09 tear the h.e.l.l out of one of the statues outside the Amba.s.sadorial reception salons. "I will be grateful when this is over. It is not a thing I relish."

"No, of course you don't," said Jessine at once.

"I wonder when we'll get a report on Wiley's whereabouts."

"I don't know," said Kitchley. "When things are a bit calmer, I will press my inquiries,"

"And Tira?" As always, Jessine had a complex reaction to her step-daughter. "Do you know where she is? In spite of everything, I hope she's all right."

"We haven't found her anywhere in the Pal- ace," Kitchley said. "She must have escaped."

'To where?" asked Jessine hopelessly. "With whom?"

"I don't know," Kitchley confessed. "We haven't a full picture of what is happening within the Palace, let alone anywhere else. I cannot tell you, not even with these display screens, who exactly is defending the Palace or whether the

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defenders are losing. It will take time before we know the whole of the damage here."

"How long do you expect that will take?"

Jessine asked.

"It depends," Kitchley said. "If there are more waves of a.s.sault, it will take a great deal of time.

If there are no more waves of a.s.sault, then we must determine which group has been able to secure what area, and only then will we have some notion of who is losing and who is win- ning."

Knowing it showed more weakness than she wanted to admit, Jessine asked one more ques- tion. "And DamienVer?

Kitchley made a gesture of apology. "He is wearing his blank. We can't find him unless he removes it"

"Or unless he dies," said Jessine. "We're not winning, are we?" she asked as she stared at the displays in Kitchley's make-shift headquarters.

"Not yet," said Kitchley. "But neither are we losing."

"Not yet," amended Jessine.