The capital has also expanded to engulf lands previously granted to the aristocracy, some of whom retain estates now surrounded by city buildings.

The study at Blaine Manor looked like what the designer had imagined were the rooms of an Oxford don in the nineteenth century. The furniture was leather and dark wood. Holograms of books lined the seven-meter walls, and a rolling ladder stood in one corner. Roderick, Lord Blaine, Earl of Acrux, DSC, GCMG, Captain ISN (Ret.), frowned at it as he went past. Nobody ever used it except to maintain the hologram generators. He'd sworn a dozen times to have the place redecorated to something more functional, but so far nothing that appealed to him was satisfactory to Sally, and it did show images of real books in his library. As usual he looked over some of the titles. Macaulay's History of England stood next to Gibbon Crofton's Guide to the CoDominium. Savage's classic Lysunder the Great. Ought to read that one again...

Blaine crossed the study and went into the small office off to one side. "I thought I heard a door slam."

Sally Blaine looked up from the computer. "Glenda Ruth."

"Another fight?"

"Let's just say our daughter is not entirely happy with the rules at Blaine Manor."

"Independent sort. Reminds me of someone I used to know."

"Used to know? Thank you."

Rod grinned and put a hand on her shoulder. "Still do. You know what I mean."

"I suppose-you didn't come in here to talk about Glenda Ruth."

"No, but maybe I ought to have a word with her."

"I wish you would, but you never do. What's up?"

"Got a message. Guess who's coming to visit?"

Sally Blaine looked back at the computer screen and scowled. "Thank you very much. I've just managed to straighten out our social schedule. Who?"

"His Excellency Horace Hussein al-Shamlan Bury, Magnate. And Kevin Renner."

Sally thought. "It'd be nice to see Mr. Renner again. And, Bury comes with him, I seem to remember. Watchdog. I suppose-"

"I won't have Bury in our home. He was one of the instigators of the New Chicago revolt." Lady Blaine froze.

He squeezed her shoulder. "Sorry."

"I'm all right." She patted his hand, then ran fingertips up into the loose sleeve of his dressing gown. Smooth, ridged, hairless. "Your scars are real."

"You spent weeks in a prison camp, and you lost your friend."

"It was a long time ago, Rod. I can't even remember Dorothy's face. Rod, I'm glad you didn't tell me then. Nine months on MacArthur with Horace Bury. I'd have spit in his face."

"No, you wouldn't. You won't now. I know you. I suppose we'll have to see him, but we'll keep it to a minimum. I gather Bury's done some good work for the Secret Service."

"Let me think about it. At the worst we can take them to dinner. Someplace neutral. I do want to see... Sir Kevin?"

"Right again, I'd forgotten. I want to see him, too." Blaine smiled. "For that matter, so will Bruno Cziller. I better tell him his crazy navigator is in town. Tell you what, love. Since the news came through the Institute, I'll invite them to the Institute. They may regret that. Everyone and his dog will want to interview them."

When Sally turned around, she was smiling broadly. "Yes, the Institute. We have a surprise for His Excellency, don't we?"

"What-hey! He'll think he's back in MacArthur. We'll test out his bioheart!"

***WARNING***

You have entered the controlled zone of the Imperial capital.

It is strictly forbidden to remain in this star system without permission. Notify the Navy ships on patrol at the Alderson entry points and follow instructions. The Navy is authorized to use deadly force against uncooperative intruders.

Transmit your identification codes immediately

**YOU WILL RECEIVE NO FURTHER WARNING MESSAGES**

Cruising through Sparta system could make a man nervous.

The sky was no different, except in that all skies are different. Stars formed new patterns. The little KO star Agamemnon was a bright white flare growing to become a sun. The companion star Menalaus was a fat red spark. Asteroids sparkled well below Sinbad's path, and then tiny crescents that showed as ringed and banded gas giants in the screens.

That was how star travel was. Cruise outward, find the Jump point, Jump across interstellar distance in a wink. Blast across space to the next Jump point. Then cruise inward through the new system, new planets, toward a new world with different climate, customs, attitudes

But Sparta was the capital of the Empire of Man.

The black sky was as peaceful as it would have been anywhere; but there were voices. Alter course. Increase deceleration. Watch your exhaust vector, Sinbad! Warning. Identify. Those gas giants, so peculiarly and conveniently close to Sparta's orbit with their massive atmospheres of spacecraft fuel and industrial chemicals, were surrounded by great naval installations massively guarded. Ships guarded the score of Jump points that led everywhere in the Empire. Eyes watched Sinbad as Renner brought the yacht inward.

Renner maintained his cool as best he could. His image was at stake... and Ruth was having a wonderful time, but Bury needed calming. Horace Bury didn't like being watched, particularly by weapons that could tear the skin off a continent.

Sparta was white on blue, the colors of a nearly typical water world. Renner glimpsed the curled shape of Serpens, the mainland; the rest was one tremendous ocean with a few dots of island. The planet's near vicinity swarmed with ships and orbital junk, growing thicker in geosynchronous orbit.

Customs kept changing Renner's path to avoid collisions as he moved inward. He didn't see much of what he was avoiding, though he did come in view of a tremendous wheel-shaped space station. Most of this was military stuff, he thought. Most incoming ships had to park on the moon; but Customs knew Horace Bury.

They knew him well, and not as an agent of the Secret Service. They were beginning their search of Sinbad as Renner took the shuttle out of its bay and started his descent.

It was his first sight of Sparta, and Ruth's, too. They watched avidly as the world came close.

Water. Sparta seemed all ocean, what he could see through the clouds. The shuttle moved into darkness and he saw only a smooth black curve.

Then: rough edges on the horizon. Then: lights. Islands, myriads of them, all tiny, all glowing; and a shape like a coiled snake on fire. Sparta was tectonically active, but lava had boiled up preferentially on this limb of the planet. Serpens, the Australia sized mainland, had one terrific harbor: the land was stretched into a mountainous rugged helix. Mountain ridges were dark patches in the luminescence. Farmland was rectangular patterns of tiny lights. There was a lot of it. Cityscape blazed; there was a lot of city, too. Even the water crawled with tiny moving lights.

The capital of an interstellar Empire was bound to be crowded.

He steered wide of Serpens, circling the coast as he shed speed. The radio was quacking at him; he tried not to say anything amusing. He'd never found a Customs officer with a sense of humor, not on any world.

He was low enough to see phosphorescent wakes behind some of the hundreds of ships. There were barges floating on the water, houses and bigger habitats. Population: 500 million, most of it gathered in this one spot. It struck Renner that if he flew a sonic boom straight across the mainland, Bury would be wiped out by the fines.

"Horace? How are you doing?"

"Fine, Kevin, fine. You're a good pilot."

Bury had been affable with Customs, but when they hung up, Renner had heard esoteric cursing. Now he asked, "What did Customs do to get you so upset?"