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Somebody who doesn't want Alexander on the throne."
    "Claudia," Sara said to herself. "It's got to be Claudia."
    Swanson-Pierce nodded reluctantly. "Evidently the Emperor believed Alexander to be alive. Nonetheless, in his message to Admiral Keaton he indicated that if Alexander can't be found within three standard months, Claudia must ascend the throne for the good of the Empire. Claudia believes Alexander is dead . . . but she's not taking any chances."
    McCade gave a long, low whistle. "Claudia doesn't want her brother on the throne . . . and knows you're trying to find him and put him there. My, my, Walt. She must want you in the worst way. Can't say as I blame her, of course. God knows you're irritating! Nonetheless, sending a light cruiser after you strikes me as a bit excessive."
    The other man allowed himself a bleak smile. "I admit the princess is annoyed with me, and Admiral Keaton too for that matter. However, you'll be interested to learn she's not too thrilled with you either. In fact she's already hired the Assassin's Guild to kill you." For a long time only the hiss of the air conditioning filled the room.

Three
    No matter how many planets McCade saw, there would always be something special about Terra. Even though he'd spent far more time away from Earth than on her, she still seemed like home. And many others felt the same way. In fact, for most humans, Terra would always be the emotional center of the Empire. After all, it was from her ancient surface that thousands of ships had lifted and disappeared into the blackness of space. In those days there was no hyperdrive. The colonists had crawled toward the distant stars, often taking years to make the one-way journey. Many died along the way. Sometimes entire ships, and even groups of ships, disappeared without a trace. Of course, some made it too. Their weary worn-out vessels dropping out of alien skies never to rise again. But even then the struggle was far from over. Hostile environments, poor equipment, and a lack of experience finished most colonies off within a few years. But a precious few somehow managed to beat the odds. Through good planning, or just good luck, they managed to hang on. Over time, they grew more numerous, eventually prospered, and even formed an interstellar government. A virgin planet was chosen as a capital and populated with millions of people sent to represent thousands of worlds.
    But it wasn't easy. Advantage for some always meant sacrifice for others. Special interest groups battled constantly, alliances were forged and then broken, laws passed and then ignored. Finally a coalition of systems seceded from the Confederation. A terrible civil war followed.
    From the ensuing chaos there emerged a single man strong enough, and smart enough, to build something from the ashes. His followers proclaimed him Emperor.
    Though many things to many people, the Emperor was above all else a master psychologist, a PR man par excellence. During the early days of his rule he sensed Terra's symbolic and emotional value, and decided to leave the bombed-out Confederation capital as it was. Rather than rebuild, he declared it a monument to peace, thereby creating a permanent reminder of his greatest victory, and restoring Earth to her former glory. It was a popular decision.
    Of course, some refused his rule. Especially those who'd fought valiantly against him during the civil war. Many of them headed for the Empire's frontiers. They eventually became pirates, raiding the Empire's commerce, and plundering the frontier worlds along the rim. At first the Emperor tried to destroy them. He sent Admiral Keaton to find and wipe out the pirate fleet. Keaton found them near the planet Hell and, while soundly defeating them, didn't manage to destroy them.
    Elements of the pirate fleet escaped, later attacking an Imperial prison world in an attempt to free their imprisoned comrades and, much to their own surprise, winning. Having no other place to go,