There were, of course, other factors behind the unrest. But neither Prenk nor any other human knew about them then.

All the district bosses had always gone along with the Big Boss as a matter of course.

Not one of them cared a whit who ran the world, as long as his own privileges and perquisites and powers and takes were not affected. Prenk, however, was strictly honest and strictly just. If he should succeed in taking over Ray-See-Nee’s government in full, every crook and boodler on the planet would lose everything he had; possibly even his life. Thus, while the new Premier held the capital — in a rapidly deteriorating grip — his influence outside that city’s limits varied inversely as about the fourth power of the distance.

This resistance, while actual enough, was in no sense overt. Every order was ostensibly obeyed to the letter; but everything deteriorated at an accelerating rate and Prenk could do nothing whatever about it. Whenever and wherever Prenk was not looking, business went on as usual gambling, drugs, prostitution, crime and protection — but he could not prove any of it. Neither uniformed police nor detectives could find anything much amiss.

They made arrests, but no suspect was ever convicted: The prosecution’s cases were weak. The juries brought in verdicts of “innocent”, usually, without leaving the box.

Even when, in desperation, Prenk went — supposedly top secretly — to an outlying city, fully prepared to stage a questioning that would have made Torquemada blush, he did nothing and he learned nothing. Every person on his list had vanished tracelessly and every present incumbent had abundant proof of innocence. Nor did any of them know why they had been promoted so suddenly. They were just lucky, they guessed.

It was indeed baffling. It would have been less so if Prenk had had any notion of the universe-wide stir of mighty events just beginning to bubble — if he had been able, as we are now able, to fit together all these patchwork stories into one nearly Norlaminian fabric of universal history.

But he wasn’t — and, for his peace of mind, perhaps that was just as well!

Premier Ree-Toe Prenk sat at his desk in the Room of State. Kay-Lee Barlo, shapely legs crossed and pistol at hip, sat at his left. Sy-By Takeel, the new Captain-General of the Guard, stood at ease at his right.

“Whoever is doing this is a smooth, shrewd operator,” Prenk said. “So much so that you two are the only people I can trust. And I don’t suppose either of you will ever be approached. Probably neither of you would be bought even if you offered yourselves ever so deftly for sale.”

“I wouldn’t be, certainly,” Takeel said. “Captains general of mercenaries don’t sell out. I wouldn’t answer for any of my lieutenants, though, if there’s loot to be had. There is here, I take it?”

“Unlimited quantities, apparently. So you, too, are subject to assassination?”

The soldier shrugged. “Oh, yes, it’s an occupational hazard. How about you, Exalted Barlo? No chance either, I’d say?”

“None at all. My stand is too well known. Half my people would stab me in the back if they dared to and they all look me in the eye and lie in their Mi-Ko-Ta-cursed teeth. I wish Ky-El Mokak and his people would get back here quick,” Kay-Lee said wistfully.

“So do I,” Prenk said, glumly. “But even if we had a sixth-order tightbeamer and could use it, we haven’t the slightest idea of where he came from or where he went to.”

“That’s true.” She nibbled at her lip. “But listen. I’m a psychic. It runs in the women of some families, you know, being… well, what most people call witches, kind of. My talent isn’t fully developed yet, but mother and I together could witch-wish at him to come back here as fast as he can and I’m sure he would.”

The soldier’s face showed quite plainly what he thought of the idea, but Prenk nodded — if more than somewhat dubiously. “I’ve heard of that ‘witch-wishing’ business, and that it sometimes works. So go home right now and get at it, Kay-Lee, and give it everything you and your mother both can put out.”

Kay-Lee went home forthwith and went into executive session with her mother; a handsome, black-haired woman of forty-odd. “And I have positive identification,” the girl concluded. “His blood was all over the place — positively quarts of it — and I saved some just in case.” And, of course, she had — prudently, wisely and, as it turned out, luckily for all concerned!

The older woman’s face cleared. “That’s good. Without a positive, I’m afraid it would be hopeless at what the distance probably is by this time. Run and get the witch-holly, dear, while I fix the incense.”

They each ate seven ritually preserved witch-holly berries and inhaled seven deep drafts of aromatic smoke. While they were waiting for the powerful drugs to take effect, Kay-Lee asked, “How much of this rigamarole is chemistry, do you suppose, mother, and how much is just hocus-pocus?”

“No one knows. Some day, whatever it is that we have will be recognized as having existence and will be really studied. Until then, all we can do is follow the ancient ritual.”

“I think I’ll talk to Ky-El about it. But listen. Witches with any claim at all to decency simply don’t put geases on people. But what if he’s so far away that we can’t reach him any other way?”

The older woman frowned, then said, “In that case, my dear, we’ll never, never tell anyone a thing about it.”

23. RE-SETTING OF THE PREMIER

As the Skylark of Valeron approached Galaxy DW-427LU, Dorothy said, “Dick, I suppose it’s occurred to you more than once that I’m not much of a woman.”

“You aren’t? I’d say’ you’d do until the real thing showed up.” Seaton, who had been thinking of the problem of synchronization instead of his wife, changed voice instantly when he really looked at her and saw what a black mood she was in. “You’re the universe’s best, is all, ace. I knew you were feeling a little low in your mind, but not… listen, sweetheart. What could possiby make you think you aren’t the absolute top?”

She did not answer the question. Instead, “What do you think you’re going to get into this time?”

“Nothing much, I’m sure. Prenk’s probably running out of ammunition. We can make more in five minutes than he can in five years.”

“I’m sure that isn’t it. You’re going into personal danger again and I’ll be expected to sit up here in the Skylark eating my heart out wondering if you’re alive or dead. You don’t see Sitar going through that with Dunark.”

“Wait up, sweetheart. Mores and customs, remember?”

“Mores and customs be damned! Do you remember exactly what Sitar said and exactly how she said it? Did it sound like mores and customs to you? Was there any element whatever of suttee in it?”

“But listen, Dottie—” He took her gently in his arms.

“You listen!” she rushed on. “If he dies she doesn’t want to keep on living and she won’t. And she doesn’t care who knows it. Maybe it started that way — society’s sanction but that was her personal profession of faith. And I feel the same way. If you die I don’t want to keep on living and won’t. So next time I’m going with you.”

Being an American male, he could not accept that without an argument. “But there’s Dickie,” he said.

“There are also her three children on Osnome. I learned something from her about what the basic, rock-bottom attitude of a woman toward her man ought to be. Even from little Lotus. She’s no bigger than a minute and a half, but what did she do? So while we’re having this moment of truth let’s be rock-bottom honest with each other for the first time in our lives instead of mouthing the platitudes of our society. I’m not a story-book mother, Dick. If it ever comes right down to a choice, you know how I’ll decide and how long it will take!”