He squeezed her shoulders. "The Cobras remember," he said quietly. "And so do the Trofts. That's what really matters... and that's why we'll find a way to stop Priesly and his lunatic gang." He took a deep breath. "Come on; let's go home."

Tamris Chandler, Governor-General of the Cobra Worlds, had come into politics from a successful legal career, and Corwin had noted more than once at Council and Directorate meetings that Chandler seemed to relish his occasional opportunities to play at being prosecuting attorney. He was doing so now... but for once, he didn't seem to be enjoying it very much.

"I hope you realize," he said, glaring out from Corwin's phone screen, "how much of a mess your brother has gotten all of us into."

"I understand the mess, sir," Corwin said, keeping a tight rein on his temper.

"I contend, however, the assumption that it's Justin's fault."

Chandler waved aside the objection. "Motivational guilt aside, it was he who fired on an unarmed man."

"Who was technically trespassing in my office and threatening me-"

"Threatening you?" Chandler cut in, raising his eyebrows. "Did he say anything specifically that applied to you?"

Corwin sighed. "No, sir, not specifically. But he was vehemently denouncing the

Cobras, and my pro-Cobra views are well known. It may not technically be assault, but any jury would agree that I had cause to fear for my safety."

Chandler glared a moment longer. Then his lip twitched and he shrugged. "It'll never reach a jury, of course-we both know that. And just between us, I think your scenario here is probably correct. Priesly's had you in his sights ever since he joined the Directorate, and to get both you and the Cobras in trouble with a single move is just the sort of sophistication I'd expect from him."

Corwin gritted his teeth against the sarcastic retort that wanted to come out.

Sniping at Chandler's thinly disguised admiration of Priesly the Bastard would feel good, but Corwin needed the governor-general's support too much to risk that. "So we both agree the Monse affair was deliberately staged," he said instead. "The question remains, what is the Directorate going to do about it?"

Chandler's eyes drifted away from Corwin's gaze. "Frankly, Moreau, I'm not sure there's anything we can do about it," he said slowly. "If you can prove-not allege, prove-that Monse came in there trying to goad your brother into opening fire, and if you can prove that Priesly was involved in it, then we'll have something we can hook onto. Otherwise-" He shrugged. "I'm afraid he's got too much of a power base for us to throw unsubstantiated accusations at him. You've seen what his people are doing to your brother on the net-he'd flay all the rest of us, too, if we moved against him at this stage."

Or in other words, the governor-general was going to react to this blatant power bid by simply ignoring it. By letting Priesly play out his gambit and hoping he wouldn't bother Chandler himself in the process. "I see," Corwin said, not trying to hide his bitterness. "I presume that if I am able to get some of this proof before the Directorate meeting tomorrow that you'll be more supportive of my position?"

"Of course," Chandler said immediately. "But bear in mind that, whatever happens, we won't be spending a lot of time on this incident. There are more important matters awaiting our discussion."

Corwin took a deep breath. Translation: he'll do what he can to cut Priesly's tirade to a minimum. It was, he supposed, better than nothing. "Understood, sir."

"Well. If that's all...?"

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

The screen blanked. Corwin leaned back in his chair, stretching muscles aching with tension and fatigue. That was it: he'd talked to all the members of the

Directorate that he had a chance of bringing onto his side in this. Should he move on to the Council and the lower-ranking syndics there? He glanced at his watch, saw to his mild shock that it was already after ten. Far too late to call anyone else now. No wonder, in retrospect, that Chandler had been a little on the frosty side.

A motion off to his side caught his eye, and he looked up as Thena MiGraw put a steaming cup of cahve on his desk. "You about finished for the night?" she asked.

"I don't know if I am, but you sure should be," he told her tiredly. "Seems to me I told you to go home a couple of hours ago."

She shrugged. "There was some busywork I had to do, anyway," she said, seating herself with her usual grace in a chair at the corner of the desk.

"Besides which, you thought I might need some moral support?"

"That and maybe some help screening out crank calls," she said. "I see that wasn't necessary."

Corwin lifted the cup she'd brought him, savoring for a moment the delicate aroma of the cahve. "The Moreau name's been an important one on Aventine for a long time," he reminded her, taking a sip. "Maybe even the more predatory of the newswriters figure the family's earned a little respect."

"And maybe a little rest, too?" Thena suggested quietly.

Corwin gazed at her, eyes tracing her delicate features and slender figure. A pang of melancholy and loss touched his heart, a pang that seemed to be coming more and more often these days. I should have married, he thought tiredly.

Should have had a family.

He shook off the thought with an effort. There had been good and proper reasons behind his decision all those years ago, and none of those reasons had changed.

His father's long immersion in Cobra Worlds' politics had nearly destroyed his mother, and he had sworn that he would never do such a thing to any other human being. Even if he could find a woman who was willing to put up with that kind of life...

Again, he forced his mind away from that often-traveled and futile path of thought. "The Moreaus have never been famous for resting when there was work to be done," he told Thena. "Besides, I can rest next year. You ought to get on home, though."

"Perhaps in a few minutes." Thena nodded at the phone. "How did the calls go?"

"About as expected. Everyone's a little uncertain of how to handle it, at least from the perspective of practical politics. My guess is that for the time being they'll all keep their heads down and wait for more information."

"Giving Priesly free rein to plant his version in their minds tomorrow." She snorted gently. "Uncommonly nice timing for him, having all this happen just before a full Directorate meeting."

Corwin nodded. "Yeah, I noticed that myself. As did, I'm sure, the other governors. Unfortunately, it doesn't exactly count as evidence."

"Unless you can use it to find a connecting thread-" She broke off, head cocked in concentration. "Was that a knock?"

Frowning, Corwin hunched forward and keyed his intercom to a security camera view of the outer corridor. "If it's a newswriter-" Thena began ominously.

"It's Jin," Corwin sighed, tapping the intercom and door release. Probably the last person he felt up to facing at the moment... "Jin? Door's unlocked-come on in."

"You want me to leave?" Thena asked as he switched the intercom off.

"Not really," he admitted, "but it'd probably be better if you did."

A faint smile flickered across Thena's face as she stood up. "I understand. I'll be in the outer office if you need me." Touching him on the shoulder as she passed, she headed toward the door.

"Uncle Corwin?"

"Come in," Corwin called, waving to the girl-no; she's a young woman now-standing in the doorway.

Jin did so, exchanging quiet greetings with Thena as the two women passed each other at the doorway. "Sit down," Corwin invited, gesturing to the chair Thena had just vacated. "How's your dad doing?"