its head a blazing, coruscating radiance.

A _Crown_!

IV

Dazedly, Lonnie was conscious of the public announcer's rhapsodizing:
"... Gov-Anth's ethnologists and linguistics experts are making some
progress toward deciphering the inscription carved on the plaque. Wait!
Here's a note from Gawley Worin. You remember Gawley Worin, our famous
leg-man, folks, don't you? Well, here's a note. It ... Listen to this,
folks! Listen! This is the beginning of the first rough translation of
the inscription. Listen ...

"'We, Wold, last of the Imperial Family of Wold who exercise our Power
from Wold, the Imperial City, throughout Wold, the Planet. We, last of
the line of Wold, who alone may wear the Tiara which is Our Power, and
our Symbol of Power, and the Symbol of Our Power throughout all the edos
of Raii's life-taking light, without fear, facing the fate--'"

Hissing, Lonnie cut the stereo switch. He'd seen enough. Darting across
the den, he opened his communico. "Get me Sykes in our Mars unit," he
ordered the operator. "Make sure what I say is scrambled. While you're
waiting, get through to Denisen at Gov-Forn, then Raikes at Gov-Planet,
then Butchwaeu in Gov-Int. And keep this line closed--that means you,
too--while I'm talking."

Lonnie--THE Launcelot Raichi--was going after what he wanted.

Just under a mile away, Jason turned from the public stereo in the
rotunda of Pol-Anx. Tapping the cold bit of his pipe against his teeth
as he walked, he sought the ease of his chair. In the privacy of his
office he began to ponder.

The months' developments gave him no surprise. Because it was the first
contact Humanity had had with a non-human race, the Mars discoveries
made an overwhelming impression on the man in the street. The result was
that for the first time in Post-Synthesis history all artifacts were
reserved for Earth Public!!!

Everyone Who Mattered screamed, except Lonnie. He evinced a biding
calmness while attending the ceremonies marking the installation of the
Tiara of Wold in the exact center of Government's own Fane of Artifacts;
even smiling benignly on certain Gov-Ficials who seemed to perspire more
than the coolness of the evening warranted.

Jason, loitering on the grass of Gov-Park, noted the smile and the
perspiration. The perspirers reminded him of small boys expecting a
whipping.

Once the dedication ceremonies were over, Lonnie never returned to the
Fane to examine the Tiara.

It was Jason th