The Royal corridor had to have the bodies of two generals removed before the procession could go forward. The director prohibited their being touched until he could get close-ups. Then he got a long shot of the great Royal antechamber: two more bodies lay in there. Only then did he station his crew and let the procession enter. The director thought it would be more dramatic if three rebels grabbed the big stone desk that stood before the bedchamber door and threw it bodily away. He didn't like the way they did it the first time, and while another camera covered the waiting admirals and generals, he had roustabouts put the table back. "Now register disgust!" he ordered, and they got their retake with a crash. Very satisfactory. At Madison's whispered instruction, the director got a dolly shot of Heller going in, while Madison into hi? commentary mike said, "The outlaw Heller visits the scene of his kidnapping crime." Another whispered instructions to the director who then pointed out to Heller that the bent baton was still lying on the floor. Heller picked it up while a camera did a pan-tilt. "Hello, hello, my baton," said Heller. "Beautiful," said the director, complimenting his acting, and moved a camera in to get a close shot of the inscription. "Outlaw confesses kidnapping," said Madison into the commentary mike. "Admits the evidence left on the scene of the crime is his." Some rebels pushed the massive bed aside and the bearers placed the fluid-filled container in its place. The Countess Krak and Hightee Heller were still holding bottles: Prahd made sure the tubes weren't tangled. The director moved the three to the far side of the container. Heller moved forward to the side of the tub. He lifted the cover and exposed the face of Cling. "Outlaw gazes gloatingly on face of victim," said Madison. Heller and Prahd were checking to make sure the tubes were all in place. The director got a close-up of the face of Cling the Lofty, very old, still unconscious. Then he pulled the cameraman back to a two-shot, Heller ^nd the Emperor. Madison was about to make another commentary when his script went all to pieces. Heller had pulled a tube away from across Cling's chin. Suddenly Cling opened his eyes. He looked around, evidently registering the golden frieze in the ceiling of his bedchamber. He turned his head and saw who was standing close to him. He frowned. Petulantly, he said, "Officer Heller! I told you to take me out of here!" An audible sigh came from the Fleet and Army officers in the bedchamber. With relief they understood it had not been a kidnapping: therefore, by siding with Heller in this fight, they were not rebels! Madison tried to think fast. He wished he had cut the cameras off. But it was too late. The damage had been done. His outlaw had suddenly become simply a Royal officer obeying orders. Frantically, he wracked his wits for some way to recover from this blooper. Well, all was not lost; he would somehow handle it. "Your Majesty," said Heller. "We have found that it was Hisst who killed your sons and successors to the throne." "Hisst!" said the Emperor in alarm. "Is he here?" "We have him in a safe place," said Heller. "You are completely secure and in no danger now. I would like to point out that Hisst also caused your youngest son, Mor-tiiy, to rebel. The prince has been in constant attendance upon you, night and day." "And he didn't kill me?" stared Cling. "Your safety and continued rule have been Mortiiy's only concern for months, Your Majesty. You owe the van-quishment of Hisst to him." Heller reached toward Krak who handed him a sack. Heller said to the Emperor, "I have your Royal seal here. Could I suggest that we rescind the rebel proclamation?" The Emperor looked at Mortiiy. The prince was smiling. Cling said, "You mean I've still got a son?" "If you say so, Your Majesty," said Heller. The Emperor reached for Mortiiy. Tears began to roll down the withered cheeks. "Come here, son," he said. Mortiiy moved over and knelt. Cling gripped the back of the prince's hand. Brokenly, he said, "If I had listened to you, this never would have happened. I am too old and too sick and too silly to rule. Anyone who can stand off the combined forces of Voltar for five years deserves to rule. Take the throne. 1 abdicate." A sigh of relief went up from the rebel troops and officers in the room. Even though they sided with Mortiiy, they were not rebels now. Mortiiy gripped his father's hands. "I will try to be worthy of you, Sire." Heller knelt and said to Mortiiy, "Your Majesty," and handed him the bag of regalia. Then Heller stood. "I had better go out and put that mountain back so we can get some power on." Mortiiy looked up from where he knelt beside the container. His black beard suddenly bristled. "No you don't, Lord Heller! Leave that to the Corps of Engineers. Somebody else can play with mountains. Immediately assemble an Officers' Conference. We've got to settle several burning questions and decide some fates. You've got to help me get to the bottom of what tore this Confederacy to bits!"

The Grand Council hall was quite a mess. In the last druggy days of Hisst, nobody had even bothered to dust it. Heller had dug the staff out of the basement where they had been prisoners and tried to bring some order to the place. There were no lights, the sun no longer hammered through the round upper windows: he rigged some construction-site floods he found. The Apparatus seemed to have stolen the gold and jewelled cloths and the diamond-studded banners; the place looked pretty bare. He thought he was lucky to be able to get the dust off the hundred-foot-diameter table and find enough unbroken chairs. But what impeded him most was people: they kept coming in, arriving from the cities. Heller commandeered a company of Fleet marines from a battleship landed outside the east gate and told the captain to stop this influx, but the captain, although he had the huge entrance door blocked, kept letting people in. In answer to Heller's challenge, the captain said, "But they're all important people of the realm, sir. Actually we're only getting what the Army doesn't filter out at the gates." The room would hold a couple thousand in a pinch: Heller gave it up. A Homeview crew was interviewing every notable that appeared. They also always seemed to have a camera on Heller. "Chief," said Flick to Madison, "this is madness. Please, please let me steal some cars so we can split." "No!" said Madison. "This isn't over!" Flick pointed to a backflow monitor the director had had set up so he could know how Joy City was cutting in his own scenes. Real Homeview crews, all through the Confederacy, were shooting shots of people in the streets, screaming their lungs out, "Long Live His Majesty Mortiiy!" "It looks awful over to me!" said Flick. "That's the point!" said Madison. "We've lost our riots! You'll never make a PR man, Flick. I've lost client exposure. Somehow I've got to try to make it up and repair the image!" "You're crazy," said Flick. "Of course," said Madison. "That's why I'm a genius. As soon as this conference convenes, I can keep a running commentary going and, hope against hope, regain the initiative! All is not lost, Flick. Don't despair. I've still got a chance to make Heller an immortal outlaw yet!" And he went off to give the director some camera angles. Emperor Mortiiy came in. He was still in his fighting clothes but he had the chains of office around his neck, wore the crown and held the scepter. "What a mob!" he said to Heller. "I think the senior officers of most services are present, Your Majesty," said Heller. "We can't dig up any of the Lords: they're either too slugged up with-dope to move or they ran away." "Well, this isn't a Grand Council meeting," said Mortiiy. "It's an emergency Officers' Conference to dispose of matters of state prior to forming a government. What a MOB!" Mortiiy walked up to the dais. Somebody tried to blow a trumpet and the note went sour. Somebody else dropped the cymbals. Mortiiy, beard bristling, yelled, "This Officers' Conference is called to order!" People drifted to the table but the hall was still a commotion. Mortiiy yelled, "Blast it! Shut up and sit down!" At that moment some new notables burst in the front door and everything remained in a hubbub. "Heller!" yelled Mortiiy, "For Gods' sakes, get up here on the dais and take the post of Viceregal Chairman of the Crown! Maybe you can be heard above this mess!" Heller blinked. It was the most senior aristocratic post of the realm. But, obediently, he jumped up on the dais beside Mortiiy. Heller raised his voice, using the piercing tone of a Fleet officer, "The meeting is called to order!" Somebody else came bursting in the door, collided with one of Madison's cameramen, and two Homeview lights fell down with a crash. The hubbub continued. Heller drew his hand blastgun, set it to "noise" and fired it in the air. There was instant quiet. "The meeting is started!" said Heller. Madison gave a sigh of relief. He purred into the commentary mike, "The outlaw Heller is calling his bandit crew to order!" Mortiiy started to speak but people were sitting down now and it was noisy. Heller reversed the handgun, held it by the muzzle and hit the table sharply three times. "Beautiful," said the director as he telephotoed in on the handgun.