o doubt he was about to tell
Shatrak, cuttingly, that he didn't want an easy Proconsulate, but an
opportunity to help these people. He was saved from this by the buzzing
of Shatrak's communication-screen.

It was Colonel Pyairr Ravney, the Navy Landing-Troop commander. Like
everybody else who had gone down to Zeggensburg, he was in battle-dress
and armed; the transpex visor of his helmet was pushed up. Between
Shatrak's generation and Count Erskyll's, he sported a pointed mustache
and a spiky chin-beard, which, on his thin and dark-eyed face, looked
distinctly Mephistophelean. He was grinning.

"Well, sir, I think we can call it a done job," he said. "There's a
delegation here who want to talk to the Lords-Master of the ships on
behalf of the Lords-Master of the Convocation. Two of them, with about a
dozen portfolio-bearers and note-takers. I'm not too good in Lingua
Terra, outside Basic, at best, and their brand is far from that. I
gather that they're some kind of civil-servants, personal
representatives of the top Lords-Master."

"Do we want to talk to them?" Shatrak asked.

"Well, we should only talk to the actual, titular, heads of the
government--Mastership," Erskyll, suddenly protocol-conscious, objected.
"We can't negotiate with subordinates."

"Oh, who's talking about negotiating; there isn't anything to negotiate.
Aditya is now a part of the Galactic Empire. If this present regime
assents to that, they can stay in power. If not, we will toss them out
and install a new government. We will receive this delegation, inform
them to that effect, and send them back to relay the information to
their Lords-Master." He turned to the Commodore. "May I speak to Colonel
Ravney?"

Shatrak assented. He asked Ravney where these Lords-Master were.

"Here in the Citadel, in what they call the Convocation Chamber. Close
to a thousand of them, screaming recriminations at one another. Sounds
like feeding time at the Imperial Zoo. I think they all want to
surrender, but nobody dares propose it first. I've just put a cordon
around it and placed it off limits to everybody. And everything outside
off limits to the Convocation."

"Well thought of, Colonel. I suppose the Citadel teems with bureaucrats
and such low life-forms?"

"Bulging with them. Literally thousands. Lanze Degbrend and Commander
Douvrin and a few others are trying to get some sensible answers out of
some of them."

"This delegation; how had you thought of s