Hadn't old Jake said that guy had been shot down--was dead? He hadn't looked very dead. As councilor of the Waern clan, Michaels was supposed to be calling on Jackson for backing. Who, Stern wondered, was backing who? He recalled the interview. They'd come in. And he'd started to establish dominance over Jackson. Then that Michaels had butted in. He was worse than old Jake. What with one thing and another, he'd backed Stern into every corner in the office. It had ended very simply. Jackson had simply declared that there would be a conclave. The Stellar Guard detachment would be in attendance. No irregularities would be tolerated. And he'd even named the day--today. Then the two of them had walked out. Stern twisted his chair around viciously and sat down. He punched at a button on his desk. An aide came through the door. That was another thing. After that fiasco at the Michaels ranch, he'd had to get a new aide. He motioned the man forward impatiently. "You have made final arrangements for the conclave?" "Yes, sir. The Heraldric Branch has everything set up. The clans have already gathered in the Throne Room. The private conversation will be held in the Blue Palace. After the conversation, you will escort the claimant across the south lawn, to the Throne Room." The aide half turned. "I can get you the plan and diagrams, sir." Stern waved a hand. "Never mind. I've seen them." He paused. "Now, has my space yacht been positioned back of the Blue Palace? Is it properly serviced?" The aide paused. "Yes, sir." He looked curious, but said no more. Stern examined him haughtily. "Very well," he said. "You will remember my instructions. Discuss the yacht with no one. You may go." He watched as the door closed, then got out of his chair again. It was time for the conversation. He glanced about the office, then went out into the private garden. * * * * * As he walked, he looked at the side paths among the trees, which seemed to beckon to ever more enticing vistas beyond. There were the miniature landscapes, with their mountains and lakes. There were the small cottages, where one could sit and enjoy a cooling drink. He smiled wryly and walked across a miniature bridge. As he reached the other side, he stopped, to lean against the rail. This was not going to be easy to give up. He watched the water birds for a while, then went on his way. As he came through a small grove, he saw the yacht. It had been set down where it could easily take off, and yet where it was impossible to see unless one came within a few meters. The aide had done well. He'd have to remember---- No, he thought, someone else would be dealing with that aide in the future. He'd be long gone.