The Kalif flushed, and for ten long seconds held off answering. When finally he did speak, it was quietly, his voice tight with suppressed anger. "No member of the House, or of this College, knows whether or not she has accepted Kargh as god." His voice roughened. "What do you regard as questionable about her suitability, Thoga?"

"My views in this are not important."

Abruptly the Kalif's face contorted, and his voice struck like an electric lash, shocking them all. "Your views have just been asked for! And you will, by Kargh, answer my question!"

They sat stunned. None had ever heard this Kalif lose his temper in meeting before. Nor remembered, most of them, any anger so paralyzing, so devastating, like some psychic sword. Thoga had wilted before the blast, his expression dazed, and when he spoke, it was little more than a whisper. "I do not question her suitability, Your Reverence."

The Kalif stood glaring, his red cape seeming to flare, his eyes fixed on the offending exarch. Then, after a moment, his rage deflated. "Thank you, Alb Thoga," he said quietly. "I appreciate that you do not much approve of the kalifa or of myself. That is your prerogative. But you have sworn respect for the throne, and that much I do require."

He looked around at the others and drew a deep breath. "Is there something further that should be brought up here?" he asked quietly.

No one came forth with anything; they still were stunned. The Kalif spoke again, with a certain bleakness in his eyes and voice, for he was shocked and shamed by his rage, his loss of self-control.

"Then I will say one thing more: I wish to be the friend of each of you, regardless of differences. But more important to me, I intend to be a good Kalif. Finding myself on the throne, it would be a sin not to achieve as much good with it as possible. Thus I will not back away from what must be done, regardless of opposition.

"And now, exarchs, friends, this meeting is adjourned."

Still standing, he watched them leave, then stared unseeing at the door. Only Jilsomo remained; the Kalif had said earlier he wanted to have lunch with him. After a minute he shook free of his distress and they fell in together, walking slowly down the hall with neither talking. In his study, the Kalif rang his serving man and they gave their orders. When the servant left, the Kalif turned to Jilsomo.

"I made an impression this morning."

"Indeed you did, Your Reverence."

"Usually when I do something, it's deliberate. That was not."

"That was my impression."

"And now I need somehow to repair Thoga. He was cowed! Something I'd never thought to see. I don't know whether he'll stay that way, or if he'll hate me worse than ever. Maybe become more treacherous."

"More treacherous?"

"Someone leaked my marriage plans to the House, a few weeks ago. After I particularly ordered silence. I'd told no one outside the council; I've assumed it was him."

Jilsomo nodded. "Probably. It could have been a slip by someone else, though, perhaps to someone in the College who then didn't realize…" He shrugged.

"Umm. As his usual self, simply antagonistic toward me, Thoga provides a counter-viewpoint. Treacherous, he could be destructive with leaks and lies." The Kalif shook himself slightly. "And cowed… It's indecent to leave him like that. How would you suggest I deal with this?"

Jilsomo frowned thoughtfully. "For now-For now I suggest you treat him as usual, with basic courtesy, as if nothing had happened. And see how he responds."

The Kalif nodded. "And there is something I need you to do." He opened a desk drawer and took out a thin sheaf of paper. "Two things, actually." He handed several fastened sheets to Jilsomo. "Take care of this for me. It's orders to the Treasury and the War Ministry. I'm financing certain preliminary actions toward invasion preparations. From my contingency fund." He watched for Jilsomo's reaction; the round face was sober, nothing more, the eyes scanning the sheets. "It's not a great deal of money," the Kalif went on, "but it will expedite preparations considerably when I have specific funding approved."

Then he handed over the rest of the sheaf. "The evening after I propose the invasion to the Diet, I'll make a statement to the public: tell them what I want to do, and why. That's a draft of it. What's your immediate reaction?"

Jilsomo glanced at the opening material, then back at the Kalif. "You're going to broadcast this?"

"Exactly."

"No Kalif has done that for centuries. The House will be offended; they'll feel you're bypassing them."

"I'll prepare them for it in advance, when I speak with them. And I've considered that in the speech. I consider that the value of presenting it to the public is considerably greater than the harm it might do in the House. Read the rest of it and tell me what you think."

The fat exarch read swiftly, then looked at the Kalif again. "You may be right. Assuming your talk to the Diet is as effective as I feel this is." He handed back the sheaf. "We can't know for sure until you do it."

The Kalif looked quizzically at him. "Do you think it's simply all right? Or do you feel optimistic about it?"

"Guardedly optimistic. You'll meet with a lot of opposition in any case. So far, I suspect the noble public hasn't thought much about an invasion. Probably a lot of them haven't even heard the idea. Normally they'd get the information via newsletters from the delegate or delegates who consider them backers or potential backers. They'd get it with the delegate's bias. If you present the proposal publicly with your own slant, they'll have a basis of comparison."

"Exactly. Is there anything there you feel should be left out? Or changed?" An eyebrow raised. "Added perhaps?"

"Nothing. It seems fine as it is."

"Good. There's something else I plan to do that's never been done before. Actually I'll want you to get it done. We can sit down together in a day or two and work out the details."

"And that is?"

"I'll want to have some staff in a number of prelacies go out among the people, the gentry as well as the nobles, and ask them a number of questions. About what they think of my proposal. Their answers should help me, uh, press the right buttons with the delegates. And with the public in possible future speeches.

"Maybe SUMBAA can even help evaluate their answers, if we ask the right kinds of questions."

When they'd finished and he was walking to his own apartment, Jilsomo considered the Kalif's comment about SUMBAA. No one really knew what SUMBAA could do. They knew what he routinely did. And what he occasionally did, on special request. But supposedly SUMBAA had grown and changed over the centuries.

He also recalled the Kalif saying he was going to question SUMBAA about the computer's abilities and limitations. Apparently he hadn't; at least he hadn't mentioned it. He'd ask when he saw him in the morning.

Or if he saw him this evening. He wondered if the Kalif would work evenings now as regularly as he had before his marriage.

The Kalif and kalifa were reading in their apartment when the commset beeped. It was set to respond to a voice command, and he spoke to it. The voice that answered was his personal servant's.

"Your Reverence, Alb Thoga is in the waiting room. He wishes to speak with you."

Thoga? "Tell him I'll be out in a minute."

Tain had looked up and read her husband's face. "Is something the matter?" she asked.

"I don't think so," he said. But before he left, he walked to a drawer, took out a stunner and set it on medium, then put it in the pocket of his robe. In case. When he entered the waiting room, hands in pockets, Thoga got up from a chair, and it seemed to the Kalif that there was no danger from him.