Rothka deliberately didn't mention the Kalif's invasion plans. That was uncertain ground.

"Loosely speaking, yes," the general answered. "I never follow such issues in any detail, though. I've read the, um, book; it was sent me by my nephew. A satire, obviously; I have no idea to what extent it reflects reality."

"Better than you might imagine, General. I'd thought to have a very interesting cube for you, of an interview with a principal in the affair, but it wasn't ready when I left."

"Oh? I viewed the one your messenger brought, of Elder Dosu's attack on the House. Surprising that the Kalif released such a thing."

Rothka nodded curtly, taut jawed. "It's typical of the arrogance he's shown lately. The man is trying to discredit the House and evict the nobility from any meaningful role in imperial government. It fits perfectly the criminal way in which he took the throne in the first place, with the murder of Gorsu. Not that Gorsu was any better." He shook his head in disdain. "If Coso Biilathkamoro stays in office much longer, there's sure to be insurrection, and probably civil war. The empire may very well collapse in violence and disorder."

He paused to let his words sink in. The general watched, inscrutable. "One can hardly avoid contemplating-" Rothka paused, then abandoned his roundabout approach. "I'm thinking in terms of a coup. In fact, I'm proposing one. On behalf of a number of us in the House, I'd like you to dispose of this false Kalif, evict the College of Exarchs, and declare a dictatorship. I can guarantee the backing of at least a large and powerful minority, probably a majority, of the delegates."

With that he'd committed himself. If the general wished, his carcass would soon decorate a stake in the Square of The Prophet. Already Rothka's guts burned.

The general didn't raise an eyebrow, though, simply gazed at Rothka for what seemed at least a minute. Finally the iron jaw opened. "Speaking hypothetically, of course, if someone were to undertake such an action there'd be a number of things to consider. A coup would need to succeed quickly, which would require a force not only adequate to suppress the Kalifal Guard, but to give the Capital Division pause. We're talking about a brigade at the very least, with heavy air support." As he spoke, he jotted quick notes on a tablet. "The Capital Division is-what? Forty miles from the Sreegana? While we're 2,100 miles away, which would mean an air lift. Made with transport on hand; additional transport couldn't be had without General Staff orders. For example, orders to move as part of some larger activity-some military exercise." He took his eyes away from his note pad to look at Rothka. "Which is not going to happen unless you can arrange it."

Rothka shook his head. The general's stylus recommenced its jotting.

"Heavy gunship support would be needed to suppress the Kalifal Guard and to discourage and delay the Capital Division. The Guard could prove a tough nut to crack; they're a proud outfit. Lightly armed, it's true, but the Sreegana's buildings give a major advantage to a defender."

Again he looked at Rothka. "A lot of damage would be done to the buildings, you know."

Rothka nodded. The general went on, jotting as he spoke. "The best strategy would be to attack while most of the Guard is still in bed or at breakfast; bomb their barracks before they know anything's afoot. Disorganize them; kill as many as possible at the outset. I presume their heavier weapons are in an armory or armories in one or more of their barracks buildings. Find out which building, and hit it hard enough-then immediately land troops in the center quadrangle and on the roof of the Administration Building."

He paused for another long and thoughtful minute, then looked up from his pad. "Still speaking hypothetically, when would this need to be done?"

"When is the soonest you can do it?"

The general's eyebrows climbed. "Soon is not the problem. Secrecy's the problem." His eyes gleamed like wet black marbles. "Once I'd informed my staff, I'd want to move within two days. Because if it leaked, you and I would both be carrion. I'd need to come up with a convincing cover story for most of the officers involved: something they'd believe. Something to allow-to justify convincingly-the quiet, confidential movement of nearly 8,000 men."

The hot rock in Rothka's stomach threatened to burn its way through.

Thoughtfully the general gnawed a lip. "If I called a meeting of selected staff this evening, we'd need to draft specific plans before we slept. I have a couple of officers who've served in the Guard; they'll know the ground and the schedules. I'll have to question them carefully though, and perhaps, um, put them to sleep afterward. Certainly they can't sit in on the planning; they're not people I'd trust in this."

Rothka stared, his scalp crawling. The man was talking about this week! He hadn't planned to move so quickly; he'd intended this meeting to establish an agreement in principle.

"We have no contingency plans for this, of course," the general was saying. "We'll have to create it from nothing, and carry it out within two days." He returned his gaze to Rothka. "It's more than a matter of troops and tactics, you know. There's logistics-ammunition, fuel, food, medical supplies, all of it. Fortunately, we're looking at a brief operation in more or less friendly territory."

This evening. Within two days. If he could have backed out… Rothka shook off the feeling, the weakness. Get the damned thing done.

"The Caps-the Capital Division-is the most dangerous element," the general was saying. "I don't suppose you have anything to suggest there? And a lot depends on how difficult the Kalifal Guard proves to be. We'll need to carry off the actual coup quickly, before the Caps can move. If we can present them with an accomplished fact-the Kalif dead, the exarchs mostly dead or captured, the Sreegana in our hands, and the House of Nobles willing to accept us-the odds are excellent that they'll hold off."

Again he fixed Rothka with his eyes. "It's absolutely essential that the House of Nobles acknowledge me as dictator as quickly as the Kalif is taken care of. I have no desire to decorate a stake in the middle of the square."

Rothka's eyes gleamed back at him; his funk of a minute earlier was gone, at least for the moment. "Taking the Sreegana and the Kalif shouldn't be as difficult as it looks," he replied. "Do you know who commands the Guard?"

The general shook his head.

"Neither does the Kalif. That is, he knows the man, but not what he is. It was pointed out to me last night that the commander of the Kalifal Guard is Colonel Vilyam Parsavamaatu."

The general frowned; the name meant nothing to him.

"Lord Siisru Parsavamaatu is the man the Kalif killed, after the row at The Prophet's Day party. It's Siisru's son who commands the Guard. As soon as you set the time, I'll arrange for him to take steps to prevent an effective defense. The odds are, he'll be able to arrange the Kalif's murder himself, as soon as your troops land there."

The general's eyebrows jumped. "And he's still there? In command?"

"As of this morning."

"Astonishing!" The general shook his head, incredulous. "Well! That is a boon, and an excellent omen. We'll want to strike before the Kalif discovers the situation and has him removed. All right. I'll use the 31st Light Infantry Brigade." He paused again. "You're certain you want to do this?"

Rothka nodded, despite the second thoughts that swirled. The general went on: "The 31st includes a light assault regiment, the 103rd, whose regimental and battalion staffs I have handpicked over a period of time. Its company commanders, too. A real old-fashioned regiment, without one gentry officer. I consider it my 'personal' regiment." He paused, grunted, then surprisingly grinned. "I never really looked at why I molded it as I have. Well!