What did the Lord High Admiral want this time? The Emperor sighed. The Swarm Imperium no longer menaced either of them. The great danger of extinction had passed for the moment. Would the submen now make outrageous demands, thinking themselves worthy of respect?

  The Emperor planned to keep the peace with the Commonwealth. He hoped Cook didn’t say something that would enrage the hardliners beyond what he could control.

  The Emperor ducked his head as he passed under an arch, eyed the bulky comm device and headed for a chair. He did not look forward to this chore of talking to an inferior, being tainted by it.

  He sat, picked up the microphone, sighed once more and clicked the main device…

  -4-

  “This is the Lord High Admiral Cook speaking, your Highness,” the subman said through a receiver.

  The Emperor made a face and pressed a button on the microphone.

  “Hello, Admiral. What do you want?”

  “I would first like to congratulate you on—”

  “Admiral,” the Emperor said, interrupting. “This is…get to the point.”

  Cook took his time speaking again.

  The Emperor scowled. Was this a deliberate affront? A second possibility suddenly occurred to him. Could the subman have been offended because he believed that the Emperor had spoken abruptly? Could Cook have believed that the Emperor—a Superior—had been rude to him?

  If that was true, then the submen were becoming far too uppity in their thinking. That could prove troublesome for the future.

  “Your Highness,” Cook said. “The Prime Minister of the Commonwealth of Planets desires me to…to inquire on certain matters between us.”

  “This call is a mere indulgence of your simian curiosity?” the Emperor asked, astonished at the impertinence of the subman.

  “I would not say that, Sire.”

  “Then say what you mean, Admiral. My time is limited.”

  There was another pause. The Emperor was beginning to find them infuriating. What was wrong with the subman? Had Cook entered a stage of increasing senility? It seemed more than possible.

  “Sire,” Cook said, “would you agree that we have achieved a united moment of peace?”

  “You dare to query me as if I were your inferior?” the Emperor asked, shocked to the core at this outrage.

  “No, no, Sire. Together, we have beaten the Swarm menace—”

  “We did nothing together. That you would even imply such a thing—”

  “Sire,” Cook said, interrupting.

  The Emperor’s intense eyes narrowed dangerously at this new affront.

  “The Swarm menace has passed for the moment,” Cook said in a rush. “Your people destroyed Builder nexuses and so did our people.”

  “Yes… That is true.”

  “That has given each of us a moment of peace.”

  “Agreed,” the Emperor said, wishing the subman would get to the point.

  “Prime Minister Hampton rejoices in the peace and desires to…to prolong it between us.”

  “I’m overjoyed he feels this way,” the Emperor said as he stared up at the ceiling. This was taxing beyond belief. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this.

  “In the interest of peace,” Cook said, “the Prime Minister would like to exchange ambassadors with you.”

  The Emperor’s gaze slowly came to the long-range communicator and the microphone in his fist. “This Prime Minister wishes to send submen to the Throne World? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  “No, Sire,” Cook said.

  “But you just—”

  “Prime Minister Hampton of the Commonwealth of Planets wishes to send a fully accredited ambassador to the Throne World. That would entail an ambassadorial party, which would include a Star Watch security team. Furthermore, we ask that a…a New Man delegation set up permanent shop on Earth.”

  “You want me to send people to…mingle among you as equals?”

  “Ambassadors, Sire,” Cook said. “We wish to exchange ambassadors in order to forestall any misunderstandings among our peoples.”

  “No,” the Emperor said.

  “Excuse me, Sire?”

  “Tell this Prime Minister of yours no. I decline his offer.”

  There was another pause of some length.

  “Is that it then?” the Emperor asked.

  “No, Sire,” Cook said slowly. “Since you reject the ambassadorial offer, we would like the coordinates to the Throne World.”

  “What did you say?”

  “My government wishes to know the location of the Throne World. We will then send a delegation in order to confirm that you are not outfitting another invasion fleet against us.”

  The Emperor’s hand tightened around the microphone until the knuckles whitened. “Are you threatening me?” he asked softly.

  “I am not, Sire. I am stating my government’s…desire.”

  “You submen have grown overbold, Admiral.”

  “Sire, may I speak frankly?”

  “You should always speak truthfully. Why do you ask my permission not to lie?”

  “I have been truthful, Sire. I request that you ready yourself to hear a few hard truths.”

  “You are threatening me.”

  “I will not call it a threat, Sire. I wish for peace between us, as that is in both our interests. However, you invaded the Commonwealth not so very long ago. We beat you back. But you—not you personally, but your commander—kidnapped millions of Commonwealth citizens. Our government wants to know when you will return them.”

  “Never,” the Emperor said. “We took the women and some slave workers as spoils of war.”

  “That is going to be a sticking point between our governments, Sire.”

  “Have a care, Admiral. Do not threaten me or demand what you cannot take. The Throne World is where it is. No,” the Emperor said, shutting down Cook as the admiral attempted to speak once more. “I know you’re going to tell me that you intend to send a fleet to find the Throne World. Attempt that at your peril, Admiral. Our territory is sacrosanct. We have peace between our realms. I intend to keep the peace. Do not then give me orders that will destroy such peace and bring doom upon your inferior species.”

  “I am relaying my government’s desires, Sire.”

  “As a servant, it would seem.”

  “As the senior soldier of the Commonwealth,” Cook said.

  “Are you done?”

  “I ask that you consider what I’ve said.”

  “It would be better that you beg me to forget these base affronts, lest I believe that you’ve insulted me.”

  “I do not beg that, Sire.”

  “I am done with you,” the Emperor said. And he shut off the communication device before Cook could say more to enrage him.

  Still, as the Emperor set the microphone on the table, he realized that this was going to complicate matters. The submen had become uppity indeed. They were overreaching because they had achieved a few successes in the wider universe.

  The Emperor knew the Throne World wasn’t ready for another war against the Commonwealth, not for another seven years, at least. But to listen to a subman verbally strutting and boasting—

  The Emperor stood, turned suddenly and strode from the communication chamber. It was time to call a Captain’s Meeting. He had to head this off before the hardliners made an incident of it, and he had to teach the submen a lesson quickly to remind them of their place.

  It might be good to speak to Lord Drakos before such a meeting, as Drakos was the unofficial leader of the hardliners. Just where was Drakos right now? He’d better find him soon before the submen and the Superiors stumbled into a new and unneeded war.

  ***

  Try as he might, the Emperor of the Throne World could not find Lord Drakos or anyone who could tell him the Superior’s whereabouts. If any of the hardliners knew where Drakos had gone, they were not saying.

  The Emperor finally decided to keep the fact of the Lord High Admiral’s call secret for the time being. It would take Star Watch time to outfit a fleet to come looking for the Throne World. Until then, he—the Emperor—needed to find Drakos.

  Yes… Something was definitely amiss with the hardliner. The Emperor’s keenly honed senses were seldom wrong in that regard. Drakos had become reckless lately and had been stung hard more than a few months ago because of it. Could the arrogant Superior have already shrugged off the incident with Captain Maddox or had it driven Drakos to even greater folly?

  The Emperor believed it was imperative that he find the answer to these questions soon.

  -5-

  Lord Drakos was an unusual New Man in several prominent physical ways. He was shorter than the normally towering superior. He had broader shoulders and less of a golden hue to his skin. Some thought that meant he wasn’t as genetically fit. Others suggested that was why Drakos demanded genetic purity in everything, because he secretly doubted it in himself. Perhaps he felt that a bold front on the matter might forestall a too keen inquiry into him.

  If Drakos believed that, he’d never said so. He was not short per se, certainly not compared to a regular human, and his skin golden indeed. But compared to his own exalted kind, he was considered short and pale.

  In spite of that, or maybe because of it—Lord Drakos had not undergone psychological evaluation such as the Lord High Admiral had—he had seething ambitions worthy of any dominant, perhaps even more so. He had used recent information from the Methuselah Man Strand, who was presently in the Emperor’s prison. How Drakos had achieved the meeting and gotten Strand to talk to him was still a mystery.

  Drakos certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone the secret.

  As the Emperor had noted, more than a few months ago, Drakos had evaded capture by the hateful Captain Maddox. Alas, Drakos had been unable to prevent Star Watch from utterly conquering the planet Bosk. That was unfortunate, because Drakos had had many hidden operatives on the planet when Star Watch hit.

  Still, the vaunted Star Watch and its keen Intelligence arm hadn’t picked up his deepest-laid agents. That had been due to the information collected from the former boss of Star Watch Intelligence, Brigadier Mary O’Hara.

  Drakos rubbed his strong hands together as he paced on the bridge of his star cruiser. If he’d known that the Emperor wondered about his present whereabouts, he might have laughed in harsh glee. Drakos viewed the Emperor and all softliners as mentally weak.

  The star cruiser had Strand’s former stealth capacity, presently moving without any of the submen’s knowledge. In fact, Drakos was having cloaking devices installed in all the star cruisers beholden to him. That happened on a base deep in the Beyond, in submen terms. This star cruiser was in the Vega System, which was twenty-five light-years from Earth.

  The Vega star was a tenth of the age of the Sun and twice as massive. Because of its young galactic age, the system still had a circumstellar disc, a pancake or ring-shaped accumulation of gas, dust, planetesimals and asteroids around it in the region of its distant Kuiper Belt.

  Drakos was secretly moving through the Vega System partly to implement several finishing touches to an ultra-secret stealth campaign in the localized area. In this instance, that meant approximately a seven-light-year diameter with the Vega System as the central point. The stealth campaign was part of a larger plan, which only a few of his closest hardliner allies had any inkling existed.

  A portion of the plan had to do with the unsettling fact that Captain Maddox had almost captured him more than a few months ago in the Balak System. That had been 9.4 light-years from the Bosk homeworld. The ambush had occurred in orbit around a heavy-metal water moon that circled a gas giant.

  Drakos’s smile slipped upon his wider than average face. The Star Watch operation had been far too close a call, and it had forced him to ask the Emperor for protection. That request had cost him several key political advantages via the softliners, retarding his present efforts.

  The powerful Superior shook his head. Drakos wasn’t going to dwell on the past. He had made a mistake. A wise man admitted such, at least to himself. Whatever, when the time came, he would take care of Maddox. Oh yes, he had more than a few surprises for Maddox and that pesky starship and crew of his. Some time ago, Drakos’s agents had mentally dominated Brigadier Mary O’Hara, learning valuable information that he was already putting to good use.

  There was a secondary reason why he was in the Vega System that might prove primary depending on what he found.

  Drakos marched to the main viewing screen, stood there and turned, marching to the command chair. He did not sit. He could not sit just now. Like many New Men, Drakos had an energetic impatience. Energy and fire coursed through his veins, making it impossible for him to sit still long. A Superior acted forcefully. He did not sit in the shadows and wait, like Strand used to do.

  Drakos frowned.

  Strand had chuckled at him once concerning his seething energy.

  Drakos shook his head more emphatically than before. If he—

  “Lord,” the helmsman said.

  Drakos whirled around to face the tall Superior.

  “I have detected a slight trace of ‘E’ radiation, Lord. The trace means it is an old path.”

  “A stellar trail?” asked Drakos.

  The tall helmsman tapped his board, finally looking up again. “Yes, Lord,” he said, “a cold one, but a trail nevertheless.”

  “Where does it go?”

  “It is faint, as I’ve said, Lord.”

  “Do not play games with me, Cleon.”

  “No, Lord,” the one named Cleon said. He manipulated his board further. “The trace heads out-system.”

  “As far as the circumstellar disc?” asked Drakos.

  “I believe so, Lord.”

  Drakos clapped his hands and laughed harshly. “E” radiation inevitably had a specific source. Until the first Swarm Invasion, no ship had given off such radiation.

  The old trail indicated…

  Drakos refused to even think the name lest he induce bad luck. He wasn’t superstitious, but there was no reason in taking pointless chances.

  “Lord,” the weapons officer said. “I have detected an incoming shuttle.”

  They were in an asteroid belt between the inner and outer system, close to a small asteroid several kilometers long.

  Drakos nodded. One of his key secret agents was heading to a preselected rendezvous point. The agent was obedient, which was something of a surprise, as this agent was a Spacer.

  Drakos moved to his command chair. He would sit for several minutes, making a show of thinking. Then he would summon the agent and speak to the man in a side room. He had many instructions to give the unusual Spacer. Afterward…the star cruiser would follow the faint “E” radiation trail. Did it lead to the circumstellar disc? Had he truly found the trail of former Imperial Swarm Commander, Thrax Ti Ix?

  If so, the possibilities could prove interesting indeed.

  -6-

  As the Emperor of the New Men pondered the whereabouts of Lord Drakos and the New Man in question received the Spacer agent aboard his star cruiser, Lord High Admiral Cook seethed angrily in his office in Geneva, Switzerland Sector on Earth.

  The insufferable Doctor Meyers was proving to be more than a nuisance. A Prime Ministerial liaison—Cook snorted.

  She was a spy! He had evidence. Now, what was the correct move? Oh, he needed Brigadier O’Hara all right. She knew about these kinds of political maneuverings. He hadn’t realized until these past few months just how much he’d relied upon the Iron Lady.

  Maybe he could bring O’Hara back in an advisory capacity. If it wasn’t for the dammed Bosks and their hideous methods… His best Intelligence operatives were still near the edge of Human Space, interrogating Bosk captives. Star Watch marines patrolled the Bosk cities and countryside.

  The Bosks were a special project of Strand’s that Drakos had hijacked. Cook had sent a fleet to intern the planet, but it was proving a costly and time-consuming operation—the Bosks were tying down too many of his best Star Watch personnel.

  Cook scowled, which put more creases than even a year ago on his old leathery features.

  What was Captain Maddox doing and where was he? What was it now? Eight months ago, Maddox had attempted to capture Drakos in the Balak System, failed and was supposed to be on leave somewhere.

  Cook thumped down onto his chair and pressed an intercom button on his massive desk.

  “Yes, sir,” his secretary said.

  “Get me Major Stokes on the line.”

  “Stokes, sir?”

  “Intelligence Branch,” Cook said.

  “Of course, Admiral,” his secretary replied.

  The admiral drummed his thick fingers on the top of his desk as he waited. Doctor Meyers was a sex goddess bomb placed in Star Watch Headquarters. She created mayhem by merely sashaying into a room. She knew her power, too. She understood her effect upon men perfectly. It didn’t help that she was brilliant, as well. But the proof of her spying—oh, ho-ho, he was going to great rid of her and possibly make an example of her, a Prime Ministerial liaison officer. She was more than a damned nuisance—she was mucking up the works, throwing sand in the well-oiled machinery of Star Watch Headquarters. Had that been Prime Minister Hampton’s intent, or was there something more nefarious going on around him?

  The desk intercom buzzed as a red light appeared on the box.

  “The major is on the line, sir,” the secretary said.

  “Stokes?” Cook said into the intercom.

  “Here, sir,” Major Stokes said.

  Stokes had been one of Brigadier O’Hara’s chief aides. There had been some kind of run-in between the major and Maddox several years ago. Cook couldn’t remember what it had been about now.

  “How are things in the Intelligence Branch?” the admiral asked.

  “Sir?” asked Stokes.

  “Never mind, never mind,” Cook said. He had as good as asked the major if the new Intelligence chief was doing his job well. That was a breach of protocol, to say the least.