The guard frowned.

"Oooooooh!" cried Pratia as the startled bird stared. "What QUANTITY!" The bird flew hastily away.

The guard's face glowered. Pratia said, "Now, Sol-tan, be a good boy. Aaaah, that's better. Now let me concentrate."

The white gauze curtains were twitching.

Pratia's face was staring up at the close-to ceiling of the inset bed.

Gris was staring down at her wonderingly.

Pratia's face was very rapt, looking upward.

Puzzled, Gris was looking down at her. He decided she must be staring at something above his head.

Gris turned sideways to look upward and find what she was gazing at so raptly. Had she put something up there?

It was a three-dimensional picture. Big as life! Full color!

HELLER!

Gris suddenly began to scream.

He leaped out of the alcove. The curtains caught at him and he felt he was being seized.

His screams rose to total volume!

He was wrestling on the floor with the curtains!

Guards pounded in! Now he knew they were after him.

His screams battered the walls and sliced down the passageways. They tore out the window and into the night.

Outside, a moan rose from thousands of throats.

The camera crews went tense.

The ambulance started its motors.

Alarm gongs racketed in the courtyard!

A tense throng, in agony, watched the ponderous doors swing open.

A stretcher crew raced in.

In the darkness of the courtyard, the men in white were loading something. One of them was an actor: he expertly tossed a blood bag under the sheet, observed by no one.

And then into the glaring gate lights, before the eyes of cameras, attended by the men in white, the stretcher came to view.

Thousands groaned!

People shrieked in horror.

On it lay the sacrificial bride, sheet showing only part of her face.

AND DOWN FROM THE STRETCHER RAN A TORRENT OF BLOOD!

PANDEMONIUM!

The crowd tried to charge.

Guards with flashing guns fired over their heads!

A platoon struggled to get the prison gates closed.

The stretcher was slid into the ambulance. It took off with a roar!

Madison looked back through the rear windows of the ambulance.

WHAT A RIOT!

AND ALL ON HOMEVIEW FOR THE WHOLE OF THE CONFEDERACY!

He sat down by the stretcher. He took Pratia Tayl Gris's hand and patted it. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh, you did wonderfully," he said. "I am very proud of you."

"Well, I certainly hope all this works," said the most dedicated nymphomaniac on Voltar. "I just can't wait to get my hands on him again. Did you know he is now ENORMOUS?"

"Oh, I think the rest of it will come off smoothly," said Madison.

"This PR is great stuff!" said Pratia. "Where's it been?"

The rest of Madison's caper was not long in fol­lowing.

On the very next afternoon, an incredulous Lord Turn, already sorrier than sorry that he had said yes to the marriage, looked at the Royal prison seneschal. "WHO?" said Lord Turn.

"They're asking for permission to land in the courtyard," said the seneschal. "It's an air limousine and the identoplate of the occupant says 'Queen Teenie.' They are saying that as the occupant is Royal, they have a right to land."

"That must be the Hostage Queen of Flisten," said Lord Turn. "But a hostage monarch doesn't have access to this place!"

"That's what I told them. But they said royalty was royalty and that they have urgent business with Your Lordship that will NOT wait."

"Well, it's a moot question," said Lord Turn. "Are those Homeview people still hanging around outside?"

"No, Your Lordship."

"Well, nobody will notice. It can't be anything very important. Probably wants some retainer locked up and I'll have to tell her no, but I better do it in person or they'll feel insulted. Tell them they can land."

He got into a new robe and straightened up his desk.

Very shortly, two heralds stepped in and halted. In unison, they said, "Her Majesty Queen Teenie! All rise!"

A silver palanquin, covered, borne by two husky footmen in silver, was carried into the chamber.

"Kneel!" said the heralds.

Lord Turn, suffering, stepped to the side of his desk and knelt.

The footmen set the palanquin down.

A blue-gloved hand swept the front curtain of the palanquin aside. A young voice said, "Rise. You may sit at your desk."

Lord Turn was irritated. Hostage monarchs had no business here. But he rose and seated himself at his desk. Then he looked into the curtained chair. She was sitting there, crown on head, scepter in hand, robed in gold. Her eyes and mouth were very big but she was actually quite beautiful. Then he realized she was little more than a child and he could not repress a fatherly smile. What possible trouble could a teen-age hostage monarch cause? None that he could imagine.

"Well, what can I do for Your Majesty?" he said, wondering if it would be protocol to offer her some candy.

"It is not what you can do for us," said Teenie. "It is what we might be able to do for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," said Teenie. "We are quite used to judges and courts and so on and we know how much trouble they can get into."

"About what?" said Turn, a trifle amused.

"Gris," said Teenie.

"GRIS?" cried Lord Turn. "OH, NO! NOT MORE GRIS!" He dropped his gray head into his hands, clutching his forehead.

"Yes, Gris," said Teenie. "He is the vilest, most underhanded, unprincipled villain alive! Before I became the Hostage Queen of Flisten, I was a movie queen on the planet Earth."

"Earth? What country?"

"Moviola. But it doesn't matter. This Gris, a terrible villain, was hauled before my court there and sentenced to life imprisonment. He escaped. He is actually my pris­oner. It would save you a great deal of embarrassment if you simply turned him over to me so he could finish his sentence."

"Oh, I couldn't do that. It's the wrong venue. I think I know what planet you mean now. Blito-P3-it's been in the news. It's not conquered yet. There are no treaties. And even if we were talking about Flisten, it would be the same. There is no possible way under Heavens that I could turn Gris over to you."

"No matter what?"

"Not even faintly possible."

"It could save you a lot of embarrassment if you changed your mind."

Lord Turn sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's impossible."

"Oh, well," said Teenie, "It was a nice try. So I guess I'll have to spill it to you."

"My dear... I mean Your Majesty, I would give half my head to get rid of Gris. But unfortunately I cannot. However," and he smiled, "I can't possibly see how he could cause any more trouble."

"It's plain you don't know Gris," said Teenie. "He lies, he cheats, he steals. But this time he's really done it. He has committed a crime right here in your own prison."

Lord Turn shook his head. "That's impossible."

"You don't know Gris," said Teenie. "This time he has really done it. And that's why I thought I could help. When I saw his picture on Homeview, I said, 'NO! It can't be! But there he is! That's Gris! He's done it AGAIN!'"

"My dear... WHAT has he done again?"

"The very same crime I sentenced him to life imprisonment for. BIGAMY!"

Lord Turn's eyes went round with shock. Bigamy was a capital crime on Voltar. "No, no, there must be some mistake. You must have the wrong man." He was pleading with himself, please, not more trouble with Gris.

Teenie said, "If he confronted me, you would know in a second that it is true."

"Oh, I hope there is some mistake," said Lord Turn. Then hastily, "Look, Your Majesty, we can settle this immediately. If you will consent to moving your palanquin into the courtroom, I will have Gris brought down."