"Not until he gains consciousness."

"Wait a minute," said Mortiiy. "This is dangerous! If Hisst knows he is here, he will launch all his troops against us! If it gets out that you kidnapped him, the

Fleet and Army will join in. This is EXPLOSIVE! They'd slaughter us!"

"Are there no advantages to having him?" said Heller.

"Does the G. C. know he is gone?"

"I came here past Voltar. There's no trace of it in the news. All they're talking about is a man named Gris that I thought was dead."

"Then Hisst is playing this quiet."

"I think so" said Heller.

Mortiiy leaned back against a rock. The wind screamed above them. Finally, he said, "It has just come to me with a shock what must have happened to my brothers and other successors to the throne. It might not have been my father. It could have been Hisst. Heller, do you suppose that man has the incredible effrontery to try to proclaim himself Emperor?"

"He is calling himself a dictator. Emperor is just one step away."

"Well, he can't do it," said Mortiiy. "The G. C. and the Lords of the land have to have positive evidence, a body and the regalia, in order to declare the throne vacant and appoint a successor. If you have the body and the regalia, he has to recover them. Gods-blast it, Heller, all you've brought me is a total assault! Whether he does or does not say you have the Emperor, he won't let any­thing stand in his way to recovering what you have. You are A LIVING BOMB!"

Heller would have spoken but Mortiiy silenced him with his hand. "I'm trying to think my way through this. Is there any chance my father will recover consciousness long enough to cancel the proclamation that made me a rebel and reinstate me as his successor?"

"That is in the lap of the Gods."

"Heller, if he did or didn't announce it, you're sitting on a shell that is about to explode. I know you have a good reputation but somebody could stir things up to try to find you and Hisst would have the body and regalia. With those, he could make himself Emperor.... Oh, I almost wish you'd gone someplace else!"

"Your Highness, how much assault can you withstand here on Calabar?"

"There's two billion population left. The rest have been slaughtered. Most of the cities are rubble. I frankly don't know."

"I got an estimate," said Heller, "while I was looking for you. This war has gone on for five years so you have not done too badly. I think you could stand off the full force of the Apparatus. The rivers are so wide, the mountains so high...."

"We couldn't stand off the Apparatus PLUS the Fleet and the Army."

"How about a gamble?" said Heller. "How about gambling that your father will regain consciousness in a few months and let's gamble again that he will cancel your rebel status and proclaim you successor. And then gamble that the Fleet and Army stay out of it. And then gamble that we put up such a ferocious defense that we cripple the Apparatus."

Mortiiy shook his head. "Please don't use that word 'gamble' again! You're painting the thinnest forlorn hope I ever heard of!"

"I'm not through, Your Highness. Then suppose we secretly tell Hisst that the Emperor is here."

"WHAT?"

"He will know then that we aren't going to make a public announcement."

"We can't anyway! I'm not in line for the throne anymore. It would not do us any good to announce it publicly. It would bring the whole pack down on us! No, the only thing that would save this is for my father to wake up and proclaim Hisst a traitor by Royal proclamation."

"One other possibility. I inform Hisst secretly that that is exactly what will happen if he brings the Fleet and Army into this war."

"He'd read it as a declaration that the Emperor was dead or incapacitated."

"But he wouldn't be sure."

"Royal Officer Heller, you are insane!"

"That may or may not be," said Heller, "but I can hazard that such a message would drive Hisst close to or over the border into insanity. You were an accomplished Fleet officer, Your Highness. You are aware of the principle that unstabilizing enemy command can often get him to do something rash, foolhardy or do nothing at all."

"Don't lecture me on strategy and tactics, Officer Heller. I was fighting battles when you weren't even weaned. There is another principle and that is, when an opportunity presents itself and one does nothing, one is almost certain to lose. Yours is the craziest battle plan I ever heard of. I will adopt it. Go bring my father. I give you my word I will not kill him. We will put him in a nice, safe cave. You can put the rest of the plan into effect. He may, as you say, recover. Until then, we live on hope. You are crazy, Officer Heller. I like you. MEN! UNTIE HIS HANDS!"

It was dusk and it was raining. Shining rivulets of water ran from the semidead spaceships of Emergency Fleet Reserve.

As the tug Prince Caucalsia came to silent rest on its tail, Commander Crup and old Atty stared nervously as Jettero Heller, not waiting for a ladder, slid down from the airlock on a safety line.

"My Gods, Jet!" Commander Crup whispered, "you've got no business here. There's a general warrant out for your arrest!"

"Hello, Commander! Hello, Atty!" said Heller in a loud voice.

"Sh, sh, sh!" they both said in chorus.

"What are you shushing about?" said Heller. "I can't hear you in this rain!"

"Arrest!" said Crup. "Lombar Hisst has had his agents tearing Voltar apart trying to find where you are!"

"Look," said Heller, again in a loud voice, "if a Fleet officer can't land at a Fleet base without worrying about 'drunks,' I don't know what the Confederacy is coming to."

"It's coming to Hell Eight very rapidly," said Crup. "Hisst is calling himself a dictator and the Apparatus is in charge of everything."

"Not in charge of me," said Heller. "Loan me a fast aircar and, Atty, get this ship full of food and things.

Particularly lots of Food. Put it on the Exterior Division account I gave you last time."

"He's crazy," said Crup.

"Couldn't agree more," said Heller.

An hour later, the old gray-haired enlisted man who served as clerk at the Fleet Officer's Club was taking advantage of a rainy night to try to balance his accounts. He heard a sound at the counter, he looked up and saw someone in a streaming raincloak standing there. He went over.

"Could I have my room key?"

The old clerk stared. He went white. "Good Gods!" he whispered. "There's a general warrant out for your arrest! Agents have been here three times in the past week checking to see if..."

"First things first," said Heller. "My key! And then send some hot tup and sweetbuns to my room. Did you know it's wet out there?"

"Jet, you're crazy!"

"Always was. Can't take time to reform now. Tell Bis of Fleet Intelligence to come up if he's around and has a moment."

Ten minutes later, a stunned Bis entered Heller's posh suite. He heard Heller in the shower and went to the door.

"Jet!" said Bis in a stage whisper, "there's a general warrant out for your arrest!"

"Speak up!" said Heller in a loud voice. "Hand me that bottle of soap, would you?"

"Oh, Jet, you're crazy!"

"Seems to be a universal opinion. How you been? Winning any bullet ball games lately?"

"Oh, Jet, you're hopeless."

"Maybe, but not quite. He who hath no hope is not long in the spaceways. Hand me a towel, would you?"

Heller, towel wrapped around him, was soon sitting in a living room chair, drinking hot tup.

Bis declined a canister. "I don't think you realize how serious all this is," he said, perched nervously on the edge of a couch.

"Oh, I do," said Heller. "Going out in rain like this could make even the strongest men catch cold."

"Jet! The Apparatus is all over the place! They want your blood! And they're a (bleeped) bloodthirsty lot!"