Chapter 3 — THE TYRANCY

Emerald took us to New Wash. The Navy landed troops to safeguard my arrival, but Emerald did not trust this. She made sure that no segment of the public had access to me during the transition. "There are always the crazies, the kamikaze assassins," she said. "We need to get you installed alive, sir."

The White Bubble, so recently vacated by Tocsin, was a short distance from the massive New Wash city-bubble, like a satellite, though, of course, it did not orbit the city. It was now flanked by three cruisers and a number of smaller ships; nothing short of a direct military invasion could penetrate that defense.

We were funneled in on another destroyer. Emerald kissed me at the lock. "Take care of yourself, sir," she cautioned me.

"My staff will see to that," I said.

"For the moment," she agreed obliquely. "Remember, the Navy is always at your service."

She meant more than militarily. I wished I could take her up on it; the Navy had been a competent home for me, in the past. At the moment I wished someone could take me by the hand and guide me to some quiet, safe place where I could just relax for a time. But there was too much to be done; I did not know when I could afford to rest. "I'll remember," I agreed wanly.

Then we were moved to the White Bubble. There, at the entrance lock, was my sister Spirit. She was three years my junior but, I think, looked younger. Somehow I still remembered her as a child of twelve. As a woman of twelve.

I moved into her arms. Suddenly I felt much better. Spirit had always been my strength; how glad I was that she had gotten here as fast as I had.

Spirit got right to work. "You have done a good job of consolidating power, Hope. Now you need to establish a government, at least a temporary one."

"I will declare the present mechanisms of government to continue until further notice," I said. "Then I will revise them as convenient, piecemeal."

She nodded appreciatively. "You are better organized than I thought you might be."

"It's not my notion," I confessed.

"Oh?"

"Beautiful Dreamer."

"Oh." She understood the reference, of course, but took a moment to digest the implication. "Then let's make notes on your speech." She turned to Shelia. "Set up a planetary address at the earliest auspicious moment."

"Twenty-one minutes hence," Shelia said evenly.

"We'll make it," Spirit said.

We huddled over it, working out suitable phrasing. The essence was: I am the new government of North Jupiter, by the authority of the Constitutional Convention to Balance the Budget. I declare all the current institutions to remain in force until further notice, on an advisory basis. Life will proceed unchanged until further notice. The leaders of Congress and the governors of all the States of the Union will have twelve hours to acknowledge their acceptance of this state to my office. The members of the Supreme Court will acknowledge similarly. Any failing to so acknowledge will be summarily removed from office thereafter. Announcements of new posts and appointees will follow in due course, and the first major effort will be made to balance the budget as of the present.

Of course, the actual wording was more sophisticated and polite, with due compliments to the good sense of the population. But the message was plain: Accept the new order or else. I didn't like putting it that way, but I had already been convinced by the problems I had encountered that absolute firmness was required, if there was not to be anarchy in short order. Once the new administration was established, I could relax.

The broadcast was planetary, and the monitors indicated that a goodly portion of the remainder of the System was picking it up too. Of course, the interplanetary scale is such that it would be hours before all the other planets received it, but their local news representatives were relaying it from Jupiter. It seemed everyone was interested in what was happening on Jupiter.

When it was done, we turned to the matter of appointments. As candidate for president I had been aware of the need to set up a Cabinet and prepare a program of legislation; I had expected to finalize that after the election, if I won. Severe complications had interrupted that, and now I did not have any proper program. The fact that I had assumed power outside the normal framework added a dimension of complication. I was now pretty much flying by the seat of my pants.

Fortunately Spirit was better organized than I was. "We have a guideline of sorts," she said. "That campaign speech you gave on the eve of the election."

"But that was scripted for me by the opposition!" I protested. "It was made up of impossible dreams."

"But you presented it," she reminded me. "And you won the election. The individual points were not necessarily bad; it was merely not feasible to implement all the programs simultaneously. Now, with a completely new government, that may have become feasible."

I nodded, appreciating the scope of the opportunity. Part of the complications I had encountered were a two-month abduction and a memory-wash that cleaned out much of my recent life. I had recovered most of that, but some gaps remained. I wasn't necessarily aware of a particular gap until I came across it by chance, so my own ignorance torpedoed me at odd moments.

"You'll have to do a lot of interviewing," she continued. "It might save trouble at the beginning if you drew on people you already know, for the key posts, and then interview at greater leisure to fill the lesser ones."

I spread my hands. "You know what to do," I said.

"I'd better! We've got a planet to organize." She brought out a notepad. "Now what people do you want closest to you, who are competent to act in your name?"

I sighed. "She won't come."

She patted my hand. "Aside from Megan."

"I contacted Senator Stonebridge about the budget—"

"Yes, he should be put in charge of economics. But you'll need a mandate for him. It's not enough simply to say 'Balance the budget.' You have to have your priorities aligned before he gets into harness."

"So I discovered," I agreed ruefully. "My last four months haven't been very good for economic priorities."

She laughed. "Sometimes I think of you as the fifteen-year-old boy I knew when our situation changed," she said. Then she leaned across and kissed me, as I sat startled.

But, of course, if I could remember her as twelve, she could remember me as fifteen. Certainly that had been the period of our reckoning, of our coming of age. We had shared more joy and tragedy then than ever since. Whatever else might happen, that common experience bound us together in a way that no other person was equipped to understand.

"Crime," she said. "We have taken steps to deal with it in the past, but it's like a hydra, always sprouting new heads. We want a competent, dedicated person to tackle the problems of violence in the streets, illicit drugs, gambling—"

Gambling. That summoned a picture of Roulette, my last Navy wife, as she had been then: eighteen, fiery, and with a body crafted by the devil himself for man's corruption. I had been required to rape her—

"Why not?" Spirit asked.

I jogged out of my reverie. "I—"

"Only one body compels a trance like that. But she always was competent, and at thirty-eight she's had a good deal of experience. She could tackle the problem of crime as well as anyone could."

"But—"

"Of course, we need her husband even more. He is under our power, while she isn't, so we'd better assign him first."

"Admiral Phist?" I said, not quite keeping up.

"The same. When it comes to efficiency, he has no peer."

She had been married to him for several years in the Navy. "You ought to know," I murmured. But, of course, it was true; Gerald Phist had been held back in the Navy because he was a whistle-blower, until he joined my unit. He had done marvels for our procurement. Certainly I wanted him on my team now—and if Spirit asked him, he would serve. He was now in his mid-sixties, but I knew his mind remained sharp. "What position?"

"Well, I would have thought defense, because that's his area of expertise, but he has already taken care of that."

I knew what she meant. After Spirit and I had left the Navy our unit had continued, and its personnel had extended their influence, thanks to Admiral Mondy's—the male, Emerald's husband—sinister expertise. Emerald's own position had been proof of that; my recent promotion of her had only completed a twenty-year process. My people had in their quiet way assumed the reins and reorganized the Navy, making it a far more effective fighting force than it had been. Gone were the days of paying hundreds of dollars for nickel and dime parts and of spending billions for exotic equipment that didn't work. The Navy had become the canniest of buyers. President Tocsin would have squelched that but had realized that it was better simply to take credit for the improved efficiency, and since my people did not seek credit, that had worked out well enough. But when it had come to the crunch, the Navy had supported me, not Tocsin. That had been the payoff.

Spirit was right. The Navy no longer needed Admiral Phist. We needed him—to do the same job in the civilian sector. "But if not defense, then what?"

"The Navy learned to deal effectively with the industrial part of the military-industrial complex," she said. "Thanks to Gerald. But the political power of industry has only been blunted, not broken. Waste and fraud are rampant, and both the government and the consumers suffer. We need to bring down the prices of food and goods for the average citizen, bringing inflation to a complete halt. He's the one to do that."

"He surely is," I agreed. It was evident that Spirit had done more thinking on these matters than I had.

"And we'll need someone for interplanetary relations—"

"Sir," Shelia said from across the room.

I got up and went to her.

"The opposition members are walking out of Congress," she explained.

"Walking out?" I repeated blankly.

"To prevent a quorum," Spirit said, rejoining me. "So that no official business can be done. It's an old ploy."

"Maybe I can appoint replacements," I said.

"Easier said than done," Spirit said darkly. "Those Congressmen are supposedly the representatives of their various districts. Your appointees would represent you, not their districts. That wouldn't go over well."

I nodded somberly, seeing her point. "And we're having enough trouble figuring out who to appoint to the major offices; filling congressional seats would be impossibly cumbersome."

"Agreed," she said. "As I see it, we have two convenient routes."

"Sir," Shelia said again.

I sighed. "Another problem? I haven't grasped the last one yet!"

"Not exactly. A delivery from Ganymede is here. They need your clearance."

"A delivery from Ganymede?" I repeated blankly.

"A baby," she said succinctly.

A baby! Abruptly I remembered. I had made a deal with a woman from Ganymede I called Dorian Gray: to return her baby to her, in exchange for her help. Her help had enabled me to survive my situation, but she had died. I had nevertheless contacted the premier of Ganymede, who had agreed to locate the baby. Now, two or three months later, he had evidently done so.

"Perhaps I should contact a nursery—" Shelia murmured.

"No," I said. "This is my responsibility. Bring it in."

She spoke into her mike, giving the clearance.

"One is to nationalize Congress," Spirit resumed, unconcerned about the interruption. I regrouped my attention; we had been discussing ways to deal with the opposition walkout. "That would put the members under the authority of the government—"

"But they are the government," I protested.

"No, you are the government," she reminded me.

"But still, what use is their advice and consent if they are compelled to be there by a government they oppose?"

She shrugged. "Not much, I suspect. The other alternative is abolition."

"What?"

But again we were interrupted. A Hispanic nurse entered, carrying a little boy. She approached me. "¿Señor Hubris?" she inquired.

"Si," I responded; evidently she did not speak English.

"Robertico," she said, holding out the baby boy.

"Robertico," I agreed somewhat numbly, taking him.

She turned smartly and exited, leaving me holding the baby. I was the cynosure of all present. I felt like a fool.

Robertico contemplated me. He was in doubt and considered crying, but I anticipated him and distracted him with a remark. "I promised to fetch you for your mother, Robertico," I said. "This will be your new home. Meet your new friends: Spirit, Coral, and Shelia." Naturally he did not understand the words, for he was too young to talk, and in any event, I was speaking in English, but my tone and the manner in which I held him reassured him. He decided that this place was all right.

"May I?" Shelia inquired, holding out her hands. With relief I gave Robertico to her. She sat him in her lap, facing him forward. His gaze fixed on the little transceiver screen and his expression became rapt. Evidently the moving picture was new and fascinating to him.

"Abolition," Spirit repeated, picking up where she had left off. "Simply abolish Congress, since it is no longer representative."

"But that would be—"

"Dictatorial," she finished. "You have the power and would be foolish not to use it. You gave them a chance and they refused to cooperate. Why not make an example?"

"But without them who will represent the people?"

"Do you suppose that very many of those folk represent the people?" she asked dryly.

Robertico started to cry. Evidently he had seen something on the screen that upset him. "We've got to make better provision for him," I said.

"I have seen to it," Shelia said. "But we are strangers to him. I suspect he has not been in as stimulating an environment as this before."

"He needs some sleep," Spirit said.

"It will be another half hour before the child-bed arrives," Shelia said.

"Give him here," I said, taking the little boy back.

"He needs changing," Shelia said. "But the diapers—"

"Aren't here yet," I concluded. So I simply held him and he quieted down.

I returned to the matter at hand. "To deprive the people of all representation—that was never my intent."

"You can appoint people to represent them," Spirit said.

"I don't know. I—" I broke off, for my arm was wet. Robertico was dripping. When would those diapers arrive?

"Sir," Shelia said. "Call from RedSpot."

RedSpot was our neighbor-nation to the south, whose city-bubbles occupied the great Red Spot of Jupiter. They would want to know my policy toward Latin Jupiter, since for the first time a Hispanic had ultimate power in North Jupiter. I could not avoid that call, lest I precipitate a diplomatic incident before I get properly established. "Put it on," I said wearily.

The face of the president of RedSpot appeared on the main screen. His eyes widened as he saw me standing with my shirt stained by leaking urine. "¡Señor Presidente!" he exclaimed.

"We're waiting for diapers," I muttered in Spanish.

"Diapers!" he repeated, evidently suppressing a smile. "Surely these are available locally?"

"Si," I agreed tightly.

The smile struggled to get out, causing his lips to twitch. "If not, perhaps we might arrange a shipment from RedSpot."

"Unnecessary, thank you, señor," I demurred.

"Lend-Lease, perhaps." Oh, he was enjoying this! "We prefer to be generous to our less fortunate neighbors."

"What is your business, sir?" I inquired through teeth that threatened to clench.

"Just to wish you well in your endeavors," he said, stepping on another smile as he glanced at the spreading stain on my shirt. "And to express my government's support for your new policy."

"What policy?" I demanded, lapsing into English. "I haven't been able to organize my own wets, uh, wits yet!"

"Well, naturally you, as a Hispanic leader, are sympathetic to our concerns. I am sure relations between North Jupiter and RedSpot will be very close."

He was getting ready to put the touch on me! Naturally RedSpot wanted more favorable terms on things like the debt owed to our big banks. I didn't want to alienate him, for I did appreciate his expression of support, but I simply wasn't ready to talk finance.

I was saved by the arrival of the diapers. "Señor, I am sure they will," I said quickly. "We must talk again soon! But at the moment I wouldn't want to burden you with the sight of a diaper being changed—"

He laughed. "In RedSpot we teach our women to do such things, but then, we are not as liberated as you of the North." He faded out, shaking his head.

I looked around. "Where's a table?" I asked. "It's been about fourteen years since I changed a diaper, but I remember the principle."

Spirit showed me to a suitable table. She did not offer to do the job for me; she had had less experience at this than I, and Coral and Shelia were no better off. We stripped Robertico of his clothes and the sodden diaper. It turned out that he had done more than one number; the result was a real mess. Naturally we lacked equipment to deal with this problem properly. Coral fetched towels and tissues from the bathroom, and we used a damp washcloth for the cleaning. But the cloth was cold, and Robertico reacted with a howl of distress.

"Sir," Shelia said.

"You know a better way to do it?" I snapped.

"Call from Senator Stonebridge."

Oh. He would be concerned about the opposition walkout. What could I tell him?

I sighed. "Put him on," I said.

Stonebridge's face appeared on the main screen. He glanced at what was going on, seeming perplexed. "Minor crisis," I explained as I dried Robertico's bottom and set him down for the new diaper.

"I think you need a baby-sitter, Mr. President," he said gravely.

"I can't trust this boy to a stranger," I said. "He doesn't speak English."

"Few do, at that age," he pointed out.

All three women smiled. It was true: babies of this age did not speak at all. "But he has a Spanish heritage," I explained. "All he has heard spoken is Spanish. I would rather break him in to English gradually."

"There are bilingual baby-sitters," Stonebridge pointed out.

"None I know well enough to trust at the moment."

"With all due respect, Mr. President, I suggest that that is surely untrue. You have a fully competent bilingual baby-sitter available that you can trust."

"Evidently you know something I don't!" I gritted as I stuck my thumb on a pin. The diaper had some kind of self-stick fastener, but I had been unable, in my distracted state, to decipher it, so was using the old-fashioned pin that had been on the old diaper. Diapering an active baby, I was rediscovering, is no simple task.

"Your daughter."

I paused, my mouth dropping open. My daughter Hopie—of course. She was fifteen years old now and eager for just such jobs as this. But she was with Megan.

I looked helplessly at Spirit. "I can't take Hopie away from Megan!"

"She would be safer here," Spirit said. "She has to attend school, and she will now be more of a target. Here she could be tutored and provided the same protection we are."

"But Megan—"

"I will talk to her," my sister said firmly.

I sought to spread my hands but could not, because I had to hold Robertico. I picked him up, not bothering with the soiled pants; the diaper would have to do for now. My eye was caught by Senator Stonebridge's eye in the screen.

"If I may now bring up a somewhat less important concern," he said with a straight face.

"The walkout," I said.

"Exactly. The present government of North Jupiter is disintegrating. Prompt and decisive action is required if we are to retain a viable framework."

"I am not sure the prior framework remains viable," I said. "I have assumed power outside the normal framework, and I suspect there is no way the opposition representatives will accept that."

"Probably correct," he agreed. "Columnist Thorley has already dubbed your administration 'the Tyrancy.' "

"The Tyrancy!" I exclaimed. That was the first time I had heard that appellation applied to me, familiar as it was later to become. "Well, I suppose I am, technically, a tyrant. The original term refers to one who assumes power illegally. I am legal but not by the standard of the system that has hitherto governed Jupiter. Some of the ancient Greek tyrants were enlightened rulers."

"And some were despots," Stonebridge pointed out.

"Still, upon reflection, I think the shoe fits. I will try to be an enlightened tyrant. So Thorley can call my administration the Tyrancy if he wants."

Stonebridge frowned. "You are not going to have him arrested?"

"Of course not! I have always respected freedom of the press, and of speech in general. Thorley will always be free to express himself in public."

"Then I think you are not a tyrant by my definition."

"No, let me be called the Tyrant," I said, liking the sound of it better as I considered it. "That solves the problem of my title."

"Surely you jest!"

"No jest. I am the Tyrant, and my administration is the Tyrancy. I am making no pretense to honoring the old order."

"As you prefer, Mr. Tyrant," he said awkwardly.

"Just Tyrant," I said. "I will make that my title of honor. It will set me apart, appropriately."

"As you prefer," he repeated disapprovingly. "Now as to the walkout by the opposition—"

"That becomes immaterial. I am abolishing Congress."

"Sir?" he asked, startled.

"Let's face it, Senator," I said briskly, while Robertico played with the buttons on my shirt. "The average member of Congress is a tool of the special interests, regardless of his party. He is beholden to the political action committees that provide the bulk of the money he needs for his election campaigns, and a fair number are corrupt apart from that. Few actually, honestly, represent their constituents. The present—prior—system of government is monstrously nonrepresentative in everything except name, and excruciatingly inefficient. The average man would be better off without it."

"But this is treason!" he protested.

"Not anymore," I said. "I am the new government; I merely have to find new avenues to implement my power. I'm sure I will find it much easier to balance the budget if I eliminate fraud and waste in the government—and Congress is a nest of both."

"Sir, this—this is unfeasible," he said, shocked. "All our institutions... there would be anarchy—"

"Not if I appoint competent and honest people to run things," I said. "As soon as I get my priorities organized, I will be asking you to serve. In fact, I am asking you now: will you serve as my adviser on budgetary matters?"

His mouth thinned. "What is the force of that request, sir?"

"You mean, will you be arrested if you refuse? No, this is voluntary. I need good people to serve as my lieutenants, and I will heed the advice of those who do serve. I am committed to the balancing of the budget, and I feel that no individual is better qualified to advise me on that than you. Will you serve?"

Stonebridge was obviously upset and uncertain. "Let me take time to consider, sir. There are implications that—"

"Of course," I agreed. "But bear in mind that the sooner I get competent advice, the better it will be for Jupiter."

He faded out. I saw that Robertico was getting sleepy, so I cast about for a way to put him down.

"Hope, we have Hopie on the line," Spirit said.

"Put her on!"

Hopie's face appeared. "Oh, isn't he cute!" she exclaimed.

"Uh, I need—" I began somewhat lamely.

"Yes, Daddy, Aunt Spirit explained. You're all upheavaled! You need a bottle, and a formula, and a crib, and some toys and a whole lot of time."

"I don't have any of those!"

"I know. I'd better get up there and take over."

"But your mother—"

"Daddy, she understands."

"I'm not sure she does."

Spirit touched my hand. "She understands."

Evidently Spirit had talked directly to Megan. "Oh. Then—"

"I'll catch a priority flight," Hopie said happily.

"The Navy will take you, dear," Spirit put in. "Can you be ready in..." She glanced at Shelia.

Emerald's face flicked on the screen. "Fifteen minutes," she said, and flicked off.

"Yes," Hopie agreed.

"You'll be here in two hours," Spirit told the girl.

"He'll wake before then, hungry," Hopie said. "Give him something to chew on."

"We'll try," I said.

"And change your shirt," Hopie instructed me.

I glanced down at myself. Yes, I needed a change. I started to work my way out of the shirt.

The screen blanked. "Now we'd better make the announcement about the abolition of Congress and assure the citizens that their interests will be represented," Spirit said briskly.

"But Robertico—"

"We'll put some pillows on the floor; he'll be safe there."

They fetched pillows from the nearest beds elsewhere in the mansion and piled them on the floor. I set the baby down, but the moment I let go of him, he woke and screamed, and I had to pick him up again.

In addition, I discovered that I had no replacement shirt. In our rush to get here and get started, that detail had been neglected. "I will order more," Shelia said. She knew my sizes, of course; she knew everything about me that a secretary should know—and more.

So I sat in a plush easy chair, shirtless, holding Robertico, with pillows braced about me. He settled back to sleep, and Spirit and I made notes for my next announcement.

"Sir," Shelia said.

I was coming to dread that word! "Not another crisis?"

"The Saturn Embassy," she said.

I sighed. "Put it on."

The face of the ambassador from Saturn came on the main screen. He took in my situation and scowled. "Perhaps I should return when you are less domestic, Mr. President," he said.

"Just call me Tyrant," I said. "What is your business?"

"My government wishes to clarify the status of interplanetary relations between Jupiter and Saturn, considering your recent change in government."

"Unchanged," I said.

"We would prefer an improvement."

"I'm amenable."

He seemed disconcerted. "Specifically—"

"No specifics yet," I cut in. "If you come to us with positive proposals for the diminution of interplanetary tension, we shall reciprocate. It's up to you."

Still, he seemed unpleased. He was trying to measure me, and I wasn't giving him much substance. "Surely—"

"So good to have had this dialogue," I said, signaling to Shelia, who cut him off.

"We'll have trouble with Saturn," Spirit said darkly. "They always work over a new administration."

"Precisely," I agreed. "I mean to be ready for the vultures as they descend."

We returned to work on the announcement, punctuated by calls from every type of party. I dealt with them as well as I could, making no commitments. We formulated a list of prospects for service in the new administration; Spirit had largely prepared that beforehand and needed only my concurrence. It was complicated because there were so many necessary offices and so many people; matching the two together was a headache. We knew we had to get at least a patchwork government organized promptly, so that anarchy would not erupt.

Suddenly Hopie was there, lifting the sleeping baby from my shoulder; I had hardly been aware of the passage of that time. My daughter did know her business; she set up shop in a corner of the room (because Robertico felt comfortable with me but not apart from me) and saw to a feeding and another change of diaper. Coral brought in another shirt for me; evidently Shelia's order had arrived.

We continued, calling the people on our list, asking their participation, accepting their excuses, stressing that there was no coercion here: we wanted only those who would be committed to the welfare of Jupiter without reservation. Some were belligerent and some were afraid, but when they learned that it truly was voluntary, a number of these softened and did accept the positions. Some who turned down the offer later called back with a change of heart, and we accepted them. Slowly but satisfyingly the new framework was being erected.

I don't pretend that this was any genius of mine. Spirit had done the groundwork and now prompted me on the execution. I was like a duffer who assembles a complex device by following the simplistic step-by-step instructions provided. I was the figurehead to Spirit's strategy. That was nothing new; my genius is reading (and making an impression on) other people, while Spirit's is organizational. We have always been a team, and there is no shame in that. While it is true that I would be a sorry figure of a politician without Spirit, it is also true that she would be unable to perform without me.

Then Coral approached me. "Sir, it is time for you to rest," she said firmly.

"But there is so much to do!" I protested.

"You have been working without pause for ten hours," she informed me. "The others are dead on their feet, but they will not stop until you do."

I glanced around and saw that it was true. Spirit was drawn, and Shelia's eyes were red-rimmed. Hopie was asleep on the pillows with Robertico. Still, I demurred. "Just a little more work, and the list will be complete—"

"That list will never be complete," she asserted. "I am charged with the preservation of your body, and that charge I shall honor, preserving it from all threats—including that of your will. You must rest now, at least for a while." She took my arm and drew me firmly along.

The others did not protest, and I suffered myself to be conducted to the master bedroom. "Strip, wash, change," Coral ordered, and I obeyed. It did not bother me that she watched; she had seen me in dishabille many times before, for she was always close. Once there had been a trap set for me in a urinal, so now she accompanied me to the bathroom too. One might suppose that a man would be nervous about having an attractive woman with him on such an occasion, but Coral was really part of my nuclear family.

In pajamas, I lay down on the huge empty bed, now feeling my own fatigue. Then another thought occurred. I sat up. "I just remembered another appointment to—"

"Down, sir," Coral said.

"But it will only take a moment to—"

She moved to me, put her arms about me, and bore me down on the bed. She had changed herself, to some kind of feminine robe that I know concealed some unfeminine hardware; Coral was never without armament, ready for any emergency. She put what is called the Scarf-hold on me, her right arm circling my neck, and, gripping my right shoulder, her left hand hauling on my right sleeve, her legs spread and braced against the surface of the bed. I think I could have broken that hold, had I wished to make sufficient effort, for my strength was greater than hers, but I wasn't sure, and in any event, it wasn't worth the effort. So I lay there, conscious of her right breast nudging my cheek as she breathed and of the sight of her left breast through the parted robe, and I relaxed.

When she saw that I was willing to rest, she released her hold and kissed me. Then she stretched out beside me on the bed and slept herself, lightly and instantly, like a cat. It is intended as no affront to Coral that I wished she was Megan; the separation from my wife remained fresh and painful but final; when Megan had consented to unite with me, that had been final, and when she sundered that union, for reasons that were certainly sufficient, that, too, was final. It was I who had changed, not her, I had passed from the stage of Politician to the stage of Tyrant, and she had never consented to be married to the latter. I understood, respected her decision fully, and did not question it, but still there was a void without her.

My tension alerted Coral, who woke. "Damn it, sir, sleep!" she whispered. She changed position, took hold of my head, and drew it in to her bosom. It was a fine and fragrant bosom, but I think it was more the feeling of her arms around me, holding me close, that brought my submission. Helse had held me that way, so long ago, and Roulette, too, less long ago, and Shelia, recently. I relaxed, comforted, and suddenly slept.