s fourteen planets, and of all their
thirty-seven satellites, and of all the nations thereon, Co-ordinator
of the planet Hebryxid--"

It went on at some length, but the man who led the next little parade
out of the landing tube paid no heed. The part about Terra was a
vestige of centuries before communications had lapsed, and served no
purpose but to remind him that new contact with the original planet
was one of the Jursans' aims. The rest of his titles he could, by now,
recite backwards.

The crowd of officialdom gaped at him as he stood there. He was a tall
man, which conveniently helped conceal a tendency toward obesity.
Under the excess tissue, his face had a massive strength, with broad
bones and jutting chin and nose; but the gray eyes were weary and
cynical.

"Wilkins!" he ordered in a bored monotone. "Find which yokel is in
charge, and burn a jet under him!"

* * * * *

A resplendent aide hustled forward to where the official in charge of
the dome was wetting his lips over his rehearsed greeting. It was
quickly made plain that His Illustrious Sublimity desired
transportation and a look at the quarters he would have to put up with
until the jackals on Jursa came to their senses.

The official had tried to provide for every known imperial fancy. He
smirked delightfully when Vyrtl caught sight of the lozards tethered
at one side.

"By Pollux!" exclaimed the Emperor, his eye brightening. "We hadn't
expected the pleasure of riding till this was over."

"He tells me they have built a forest, Sire," reported the aide.
"About half a mile square. At least, you will have some relaxation."

"Good! It is all very well playing the soldier and roughing it
informally, but a man must have _something_!"

He surveyed the reptilian mounts that were led forward and chose one
whose eight legs were a trifle longer than average. With reasonable
agility, considering his bulk, he hoisted himself into the saddle and
set off toward the miniature palace awaiting him. His guardsmen
trotted alongside while the rest of his retinue mounted and followed
as best they could.

He drew rein once, to gaze up through the dome at the yellow-green
disk of Jursa. Wilkins overtook him.

"Note the dark line in the southern hemisphere, Sire," he said. "The
result of Marshal Tzyfol's sweep--the one that broke through their
fleets and led to their plea for terms."

"Excellent!" said the Emperor. He lowered hi