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Her beautiful face was pale and drawn. Her eyes fluttered open and she managed
a weak smile.
"Welcome home, Alex, we need you." Then her eyes closed again and her head
fell to the side.
Alex looked up at the doctor, who smiled nervously, and shook his head.
"She'll be just fine, sir." Under
Claudia's orders the doctor had been present during Linnea's interrogation.
Now it appeared her brother
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was suddenly in charge, and he was obviously concerned about Lady Linnea's
health. What would she tell him? The doctor felt himself start to sweat.
Alex found he had to clear a lump from his throat before he could speak.
"Good. Lady Linnea is to receive your personal attention. God help you if
anything happens to her."
The doctor nodded, and started toward the door, jerking to a stop when Alex
held up a restraining hand. Whirling around Alex said, "The naval officer who
was with Lady Linnea, Swanson-Pierce, where is he?"
"Over here," McCade answered. "At the moment he's out of it, but I suspect
he'll survive to make my life miserable."
"Him as well," Alexander admonished the doctor. "I want reports on their
condition every four hours."
By now the doctor was quite pale. He nodded nervously, steering Linnea's auto
stretcher himself, and urging the medic in control of Swanson-Pierce's
stretcher to hurry up. He didn't understand what was going on and didn't want
to. Safety lay in the direction of sick bay, and he unconsciously urged
Linnea's stretcher to greater speed.
McCade was lighting a cigar when the Emperor walked over to join him. "Well,
Alex, or should I say
'Your Highness'? The empire is yours. Wear it in good health."
The Emperor laughed. "It may be mine, but I don't think it's possible for you
to say 'Your Highness' and mean it. So let's agree that you'll always call me
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Alex instead." And with that the Emperor held out his hand to the bounty
hunter.
McCade stuck his cigar between his teeth and shook the Emperor's hand. "It's a
deal, Alex."
The Emperor looked serious for a moment. "I'd say 'thanks,' but thanks isn't
good enough, Sam."
"Then just make sure Swanson-Pierce comes through with my bounty," McCade
answered with a grin.
"He may be an Admiral, but he's still a bastard."
"The empire could use more bastards like him," the Emperor countered. "Which
brings me back to my earlier offer. I could use you, Sam. I know you don't
trust the Imperial government, so why not become part of it? I'll give you any
job you want. That way you make sure we don't screw up."
McCade blew a stream of gray smoke toward the overhead. "Thanks, Alex, but I
wouldn't fit in."
The Emperor shrugged. "All right, Sam, I respect your wishes. Nonetheless, I
owe you one. Don't hesitate to call it in."
"I won't," McCade assured him. "Just out of curiosity, what will you do with
Claudia?"
The Emperor smiled as his grandfather and father had before him. "Why, turn
her loose, of course. All my opposition will flock to her, and then I'll be
able to keep an eye on all of them at once."
McCade shook his head in amazement. "It's obvious you're the right man for the
job."
"It's in the genes. Well, I'm heading down to sick bay. You coming?"
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"In a few minutes. I'll catch up."
"See you there." And, with a cheerful wave, the Emperor was gone.
McCade stepped over to the bar and punched in a request for a Terran whiskey.
While he waited, he took a deep drag on his cigar and then crushed it out. He
knew, deep down, that in spite of everything, all they'd managed to do was buy
a little time. Under Alexander's leadership, war with the II Ronn would be
delayed, but not prevented. The forces pushing both sides toward it were just
too powerful.
With a gentle hum the autobar produced his drink. Turning his back to the rest
of the room, he faced the mirror, and lifted his glass. The man he saw there
looked older but not, he decided, that much wiser.
Nonetheless he was alive. Thanks to some very good luck and some very good
people. "To you, Cy, may you always win. To you, Spigot. And to you, Pollard,
wherever you are. And, finally, to you, Sara, I'm coming home." And with that
he drained the glass to the very last drop.
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