Prince? Krinata examined the symbols on Jindigar's robe again. She'd never been very good at heraldry. But if Jindigar was a prince, then no wonder he'd claimed Zinzik was deliberately insulting his people. But why would the Emperor do that?

Rantan's private office was hardly less opulent than the audience chamber, though much smaller. The center of the room was a deeply upholstered pit in the center of which was a holostage activated by the imperial leptolizer, a wand as long as Krinata's arm and sparkling with rare jewels.

The ceiling was paneled with high-relief carvings from dozens of worlds depicting the last Imperial Progress across the Allegiancy worlds.

The carpet had been woven to reflect the panels from above. The walls were colored mirrors arranged to focus light on the images. Dominating all were the imperial green laced with the Lehiroh violet and yellow. Krinata did not understand the rules of succession that rotated the throne among species, but she knew that Rantan's successor had to be human, though not a Zavaronne.

The Emperor reclined before his holostage, drinking from a tall cut-ruby glass and watching the audience chamber empty into the public corridors of the palace. Rantan had the good manners to address only Jindigar. "We're delighted you could join Us for this private chat," he said. He waved to a live servant standing to one side and said, "Do please come down and make yourself comfortable."

They descended the padded stairs, and while Jindigar drew Krinata to sit near the Emperor's right, the other Dushau gathered in a knot on the opposite side of the holostage from Zinzik. The servant promptly offered them drinks, though from ordinary crystal glasses. Krinata was dry-mouthed, but when Jindigar and the others refused, so did she, to Zinzik's displeasure.

"Then We'll make this mercifully brief. Your memory is more accurate than any Histrecording. We must know details of your years with Raichmat's Oliat."

There was not a trace of tension in Jindigar, yet Krinata sensed by his very relaxation that he understood at last the threat he'd sensed during the Audience. Yet his voice was deep, calm, as he answered, "I was in Raichmat four hundred thirty-two years, Excellency."

"We're aware of how long Raichmat's Oliat existed, and how influential it was on the early expansion of the Allegiancy ... as if Raichmat knew where to find compatible civilizations willing to join us."

"After an Interregnum of over seven hundred years during which the planets of the old Corporate League had been isolated from galactic trade, one couldn't expect to find the same cultures dominating familiar planets. But Raichmat specialized in exploration, and visited worlds not on any Dushau records. We found over a hundred unoccupied worlds which we opened to Allegiancy colonization."

"We do not dispute this," Zinzik answered, swishing the liquid in his glass. The jewels on his fingers flashed in the changing light from the hologlobe. "The service the Dushau have rendered the Allegiancy is overwhelming. Never has the gratitude of the Throne been withheld. But as We realize what it means for a living memory to span more than three galactic civilizations, the more We comprehend how vital Dushau loyalty is to the Throne."

Absently, Jindigar soothed the piol which was thrusting its head up under his chin and mewling. "I know you're hungry. In a little while."

The Emperor set his glass aside and rose to stand between Jindigar and the hologlobe. "Prince Jindigar, do you breach etiquette to offer insult to the Throne?"

Jindigar looked down at the wriggling animal, then back up at the Emperor. "Certainly not," he replied without rising. He extracted the piol and set it atop his turban where it curled comfortably within the ring of twisted material and snuffled itself to sleep. "We are Oliat. We found this piol cub wandering loose in the Groundside Station. Nobody seemed to realize it was orphaned and starving. I've fed it and reassured it, and its bright youth has helped us during this dire time of Dissolution. Surely the legendary compassion of the Throne extends to creatures orphaned within the precincts of the Capitol."

"You presume to instruct Us in Imperial protocol?"

Krinata had never realized this near legendary figure was so insecure in his new position. It explained a lot.

"By no means," Jindigar denied calmly. He rose, the piol balanced like the crown the Emperor no longer wore above his formal robes. Krinata rose with him. Fully erect, he was much taller than the Lehiroh. He added, with an odd, measured inflection. "Obviously, the traditions of Crown and Throne are familiar to their rightful heir."

Not sure what to make of that, the Emperor circled his hologlobe, one hand on its insubstantial surface. He pivoted and fixed Jindigar with a frown. "Your loyalty shall be evident in the thoroughness with which you prepare a complete, detailed, written report of all of your four hundred thirty-two years in Raichmat. You will not slight Kamminth's final debriefing for this, but you'll not leave Onerir until you've completed this task for Us."

"Excellency," objected Jindigar, "I am Oliat, not Historian. What you ask..."

"We have spoken."

It was dismissal, but Jindigar remained staring at the Emperor as if expecting an unreasonable order to be amended. One thing Emperors never did was amend orders. Jindigar spoke into the tense silence. "Fedeewarn is Historian-trained, and was with Raichmat from Tempering until I became Outreach. Surely..." He broke off, his eyes sweeping toward where the rest of his Oliat gathered. He froze, mouth open, eyes wide, breath suspended.

"Prince Jindigar, you are overstepping."

Suddenly, Jindigar swept the piol from his head, thrust it at Krinata, muttering, "Fedeewarn!" and together with the other four Dushau, ran from the room without even token obeisance. Stunned, Krinata faced the perplexed Emperor alone. He raked her with a glance, and before he could speak, she made the deepest obeisance of her life without faltering, and said, "Prince Jindigar was apprehensive that such a thing might happen to the Oliat while in The Presence, Excellency. He has instructed me to apologize for Kamminth's Oliat, and to explain that in the event of some mischance with Fedeewarn, he would revert to the Office of Receptor."

She stopped when Zinzik flipped a hand at her sharply, his whole manner speaking of his total familiarity with the sensitive Oliat mechanism. She nestled the piol against her breast and circled away from Zinzik, bowing as low as she could. He couldn't have done this on purpose.

Zinzik did not deign to notice her but circled the other way and followed the Oliat. Sh& trailed behind, wondering if she could beat Jindigar to the infirmary by taking a shortcut. But no, if there were any shortcuts in the ancient structure, he'd know them.

In an atrium where a fountain danced merrily, they came upon the five Dushau. The four males knelt around Kamminth who writhed on the tiled floor as if her flesh were seared by the sunlight from the open roof. One of them screamed, an ululating roar of unparalleled anguish.

Kamminth's heels beat against the tiles, a seizure's rhythm. Another of the Dushau vomited on the edge of the fountain, and then fell headfirst into the water. Jindigar remained clutching Kamminth, his hands bracing her head.

Guards swept into the atrium in the Emperor's wake, and formed up around him, awaiting orders. Krinata ran to the Dushau drowning unconscious in the fountain and, setting the piol on the edge, she hauled the large Dushau out of the water. He wasn't breathing.

She pulled him over on his chest and cleared his air passages, noting the unhealthy pallor of his teeth. Just as she was steeling herself to administer resuscitation, Jindigar's hands replaced hers. He was vibrating again, as he had in the robing room, his whole body in the grip of a palsy of terror. He said, "Kamminth's dead. I could do nothing." And he bent to force air into the Dushau.