"About as you'd expect," she said, sinking into the chair. "Uncle Joshua came over a while ago and they spent a lot of time talking about other problems the family's had in the past."

Corwin nodded. "I remember similar trips down memory lane. Pretty depressing to listen to?"

She pursed her lips. "A little."

"Try not to let it bother you. It's one of the methods we Moreaus have traditionally used to remind ourselves that things usually wind up working out for the best."

Jin took a deep breath. "Dad told me my application for the Cobra Academy's been rejected."

Corwin's jaw tightened; with a conscious effort he relaxed it. "Did he explain why?" he asked.

She shook her head. "We didn't really discuss it-he had other things on his mind. That's one reason I came to see you."

"Yeah. Well... to put it bluntly, you were rejected because you're a woman."

He hadn't really expected her to looked surprised, and she didn't. "That's illegal, you know," she said calmly. "I've studied the Academy's charter, the official Cobra Statement of Purpose, and even the original Dominion of Man documents. There's nothing in any of them that specifically excludes women from the Cobras."

"Of course there isn't," he sighed. "There isn't anything that excludes women from the governorship, either, but you'll notice that there aren't very many women who make it to that office. It's a matter of tradition."

"Whose tradition?" Jin countered. "Neither of those unspoken rules started with the Cobra Worlds. We inherited them from the Old Dominion of Man."

"Sure," he nodded. "But these things take time to change. You have to remember that we're barely two generations removed from the Dominion and its influence."

"It took less than one generation for us to give the Cobras their double vote," she pointed out.

"That was different. Tors Challinor's attempted rebellion forced an immediate political acknowledgment of the Cobras' physical power. Your case, unfortunately, doesn't have that kind of urgency to it."

For a long moment Jin just looked at him. "You're not going to fight the Council for me on this, are you?" she asked at last.

He spread his hands helplessly. "It's not a matter of fighting them, Jin. The whole weight of military history is against you. Women just haven't as a rule been welcomed into special military forces. Not official military forces, anyway," he corrected himself. "There've always been women rebels and guerrilla fighters, but I don't think that argument'll go over very well on either the

Council or the Academy."

"You have a lot of influence, though. The Moreau name alone-"

"May still have some force out among Aventine's people," he grunted, "but the aura doesn't carry over into the upper echelons. It never did, really-in many ways your grandfather was a more popular figure than I am, and even in his time we had to fight and scrap and trade for everything we got."

Jin licked her lips. "Uncle Corwin... I have to get into the Academy. I have to.

It's Dad's last chance to have one of the family carry on the Cobra tradition.

Now, more than ever, he needs that to hang onto."

Corwin closed his eyes briefly. "Jin, look... I know how much that tradition means to Justin. Every time one of you girls was born-" He broke off. "The point is that the universe doesn't always work the way we want it to. If he and your mother had had a son-"

"But they didn't," Jin interrupted with a vehemence that startled him. "They didn't; and Mom's gone, and I'm Dad's last chance. His last chance-don't you understand?"

"Jin-" Corwin stopped, mind searching uselessly for something to say... and as he hesitated, he found his eyes probing the face of the young woman before him.

There was a lot of Justin in her face, in her features and her expressions. But as he thought back over the twenty years since her birth he found he could see even more of her father in her manner and personality. How much of that, he wondered vaguely, was due to genes alone and how much was due to the fact that

Justin had been her only parent since she was nine years old? Thoughts of Justin sent a new kaleidoscope of images flurrying past his mind's eye: Justin fresh out of the Cobra Academy, excited by the upcoming mission to what was then the totally mysterious world of Qasama; an older and more sober Justin at his wedding to Aimee Partae, telling Corwin and Joshua about the son he would have someday to carry on the Moreau family's Cobra tradition; Justin and his three daughters, fifteen years later, at Aimee's funeral...

With an effort, he forced his thoughts back to the present. Jin was still sitting before him, the intensity of purpose in her expression balanced by a self-control rarely found among twenty-year-olds. One of the primary factors looked for in all Cobra applicants, he remembered distantly... "Look, Jin," he sighed. "Odds are very high that there's nothing at all I can do to influence the Academy's decision. But... I'll do what I can."

A ghost of a smile brushed Jin's lips. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I wouldn't be asking you to do this if it weren't for Dad."

He looked her straight in the eye. "Yes, you would," he said. "Don't try to con an old politician, girl."

She had the grace to blush. "You're right," she admitted "I want to be a Cobra,

Uncle Corwin. More than anything else I've ever wanted."

"I know," he said softly. "Well. You'd better get back home. Tell your father... just tell him hi for me, and that I'll be in touch on this thing."

"Okay. Goodnight... and thank you."

"Sure."

She left and Corwin sighed to himself. Your basic chicken-egg problem, he thought. Which came first: her desire to be a Cobra, or her love for her father?

And did it really make any difference?

Thena reappeared in the doorway. "Everything all right?" she asked.

"Oh, sure," he growled. "I've just promised to take a running leap at a stone wall, that's all. How do I get myself into these things?"

She smiled. "Must be because you love your family."

He tried to glare at her, just on general principles, but it was too much effort. "Must be," he admitted, returning her smile. "Go on, get out of here."

"If you're sure...?"

"I am. I'm only going to be a few more minutes myself."

"Okay. See you in the morning."

He waited until he heard the outer door close behind her. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back to his reader, keying for the government info net and his own private correlation program. Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a connection between Baram Monse and Governor Harper Priesly.

And he was going to find it.

The Directorate meeting started at ten sharp the next morning... and it was as bad as Corwin had expected.

Priesly was in fine form, his tirade all the more impressive for being brief. A less gifted politician might have overdone it and wound up boring his audience, but Priesly avoided that trap with ease. In front of the entire Council, where the sheer number of members lent itself to the generation and manipulation of emotional/political winds, the longer-winded speeches were often effective; in front of the nine-member Directorate such ploys were dangerous, not to mention occasionally coming off as downright silly. But Corwin had hoped Priesly would try anyway and hang himself in the process.

He should have known better.

"...and I therefore feel that this body has the duty to reexamine the entire concept of elitism that the Cobras and the Cobra Academy represent," Priesly concluded. "Not only for the sake of the people of Aventine and the other worlds, but even for the Cobras themselves. Before another tragedy like this one occurs. Thank you."