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Whitehall," the Governor was saying. "And it doesn't matter. I'm removing you from command."
    " But, sir, I know that if you do . . .  !"Huego Whitehall began. He stopped with a resigned shrug, and made no objection when the Guards seized his arms and began stripping him of insignia and sidearms.
    "No," Raj whispered. Time blurred: East Residence burned, and Colonist soldiers dragged his father from a prison cell, through corridors thick with smoke and littered with the bodies of Civil Government troops. Huego wrenched free as they emerged, onto a vantage point that showed a panorama of East Residence in flames. He leaped to the balustrade of the terrace, but the guards bore Colony lever-action repeaters; they managed to shoot him at least three times before he went over the edge.
    "Lies!" Raj shouted. "All lies!"
    calm yourself. consider.   
    Raj fought his breathing under control, felt the sheen of sweat dry on his skin in the unmoving dead air. "Those . . . battles. They're what might have occurred if . . . If what?"
    if one earlier than you had been allowed to leave this place, with my help.   
    He felt the grip on his body relax, and found he could move torso and arms and head. It was inexpressible relief to rub a palm across his face.
    "Your help doesn't seem to be worth much," he said bluntly.
    consider a general with faultless intelligence staff, who always knows the most probable results of his actions, The mental voice of . . . Center, he supposed . . . continued, yet the universe is a structure of probabilities, if the probability of success is sufficiently low, even my assistance is not enough. sociopolitical and economic factors often count for more than winning a battle. outside this complex i can only advise and observe through my agent, not compel. my calculations indicate the time is ripe at last, for your mission.  
    "What mission?" Raj asked.
    to unite bellevue, as a preliminary to the rebuilding of the Tanaki Spatial Displacement Net. Even in the soundless voice, he could hear the capitals on the Holy Name of Faster Than Light Travel.
    "To unite Earth ?"Raj said incredulously, touching his amulet.
    bellevue, Center corrected pedantically. earth will come later.  
    The young man's lips shaped a soundless whistle. The Whitehalls of Hillchapel had served the Governor in arms for half a thousand years, riding at the head of troops recruited from their home county's tough hill-farmers; the Descott district bred soldiers, not tax-broken peons like the lowlands. He remembered vague boyish dreams of glory, dreams that had grown more specific as he passed into manhood. Beating back a Colony grab at the disputed territories in the southeast, perhaps; there was a border war with the rag-heads every generation or so. Or smashing a raiding column of Brigade troops, over northwest across the Kelden Straits, where the Civil Government kept a foothold in the Middle Territories.
    But to reunite the world !
    "That's a job for a hero-saint," he protested.
    I am Sector Command and Control Unit AZ12-b14-c000 Mk. XIV. Without sound, the words roared like the thunder of massed cannon. I say you are the One.   
    Raj genuflected. You did not argue with an angel. "I know my duty," he said, straightening.
    that is one of your qualifications, Center observed.
    A thought struck the young man. "You don't mean I have to be Governor, do you?" he asked, worry in his voice. "Governor Vernier has my oath. And Vice-Governor Barholm, too; I swore allegiance as his Guard."
    vernier will die within the year, Center said, his nephew barholm will take the chair. That was no news; Barholm was the real power now, not his ailing kinsman. And Raj was Barholm's man. you will act as governor barholm's shield and sword, and in any case you will be abroad on campaign for many years: your talents are military and administrative, not political.   
    Raj nodded in instant agreement; he could keep his feet in the snakepit intrigues