chancellor, fighting desperately to
stay awake after drinking too much wine during the luncheon and
afterward. And Modal, sitting on the couch next to him, was
bright-eyed and alert, thinking only of how much money and power would
come to him as Chief of Industries once the rearmament program began
in earnest.

Sitting alone on another couch was Kor, the quiet one, the head of
Intelligence, and--technically--Odal's superior. Silent Kor, whose few
words were usually charged with terror for those whom he spoke
against.

Marshal Lugal looked bored when Kanus spoke of politics, but his face
changed when military matters came up. The marshal lived for only one
purpose: to avenge his army's humiliating defeat in the war against
the Acquatainians, thirty Terran years ago. What he didn't realize,
Odal thought, smiling to himself, was that as soon as he had
reorganized the army and re-equipped it, Kanus planned to retire him
and place younger men in charge. Men whose only loyalty was not to the
army, not even to the Kerak Worlds and their people, but to the
chancellor himself.

Eagerly following every syllable, every gesture of the leader was
little Tinth. Born to the nobility, trained in the arts, a student of
philosophy, Tinth had deserted his heritage and joined the forces of
Kanus. His reward had been the Ministry of Education; many teachers
had suffered under him.

And finally there was Romis, the Minister of Intergovernmental
Affairs. A professional diplomat, and one of the few men in government
before Kanus' sweep to power to survive this long. It was clear that
Romis hated the chancellor. But he served the Kerak Worlds well. The
diplomatic corps was flawless in their handling of intergovernmental
affairs. It was only a matter of time, Odal knew, before one of
them--Romis or Kanus--killed the other.

* * * * *

The rest of Kanus' audience consisted of political hacks,
roughnecks-turned-bodyguards, and a few other hangers-on who had been
with Kanus since the days when he held his political monologues in
cellars, and haunted the alleys to avoid the police. Kanus had come a
long way: from the blackness of oblivion to the dazzling heights of
the chancellor's rural estate.

Money, power, glory, revenge, patriotism: each man in the room,
listening to Kanus, had his reasons for following the chancellor.

_And my reasons?_ Odal asked himself. _Why do I follow him? Can I see
into my own m