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be."
    Douglas looked at his father sharply. Perfect James, throwing a temper tantrum? He would have liked to ask more, but the King was pressing on. "Since we couldn't afford to have you making trouble, it was decided that I would break the news to you, at the last possible moment. And this would appear to be it.
    I wish your mother was here; she was always so much better at these things than me. And don't even think about running; I've got security men standing by with tanglefields and cattle prods, just in case.
    Joke."
    "You'll pardon me if I don't laugh," said Douglas. "I can't believe you did all this behind my back. I always thought marriage was supposed to be the most important decision in a man's life."
    "In your case, it is," said William. "Far too important to be left to you. Royal marriages are affairs of State, not of the heart. Though it needn't stay that way. I learned to love your mother, eventually. I'm sure you'll come to love your Queen too, in time."
    "Are you at least going to tell me who it is?" said Douglas, so far into shock now he was practically numb. "Or is it going to be a surprise?"
    "Of course not, dear boy. You needn't look so disturbed. Nothing but the best for the man who will be King, after all. If I was only fifty years younger I'd chase her round the room a few times myself. The hunchback suits her. Joke! She's beautiful, intelligent, and she'll make a superb Queen. Your bride will be Jesamine Flowers. You have heard of her?"
    Douglas felt his jaw drop, and it took him several moments to get enough air back into his lungs to be able to answer. "Heard of her? Jesamine bloody Flowers? She's the most famous, the most talented diva in the whole damned Empire! And the single most glamorous woman in all the civilized worlds! Hell, Jesamine's already so popular she already is Queen, in everything but name. And this goddess has agreed to marry me?"
    "Of course," said William. "Looked at logically, it's the obvious next career move for her. She's reached the pinnacle of her profession, played all the biggest roles on all the biggest stages. Made more money than she knows what to do with, and she couldn't be any more famous if she tried. She is the biggest sensation in the Empire today. But where else can she go? If she continues as she is, she'll just end up repeating herself, or worse still, squandering her talents on roles unworthy of her. When you've reached
    the top of your profession, the only place left to go is down. The only way for her to become even more fabulous is to move out of art and into politics. There's nothing like the adulation of the masses to give you a taste for power over them. She could become a Member of Parliament, of course, but I think she'd see that as a step down. But to be Queen; to sit in State over the greatest Empire Humanity has ever known . . ."
    Douglas looked sardonically at his father. "Are you going to give her the bad news, or is that my job, after we're married? Power my arse. She'll scream the place down, once she learns the truth. And God alone knows what kind of scream an opera singer can produce when she really puts her mind to it."
    "The role of King and Queen are something the two of you will have to work out with Parliament," said William. "I personally plan to be thoroughly retired, and deep in hiding, when the explosions begin. Now do smarten yourself up, Douglas. Make an effort. Jesamine Flowers will be here very soon, and you do want to make a good first impression, don't you?"
    Out over the city, flying high above the Parade of the Endless on their own personalized gravity sleds, Lewis Deathstalker and Finn Durandal raced soundlessly over brightly shining towers linked by delicate bridges, massive globes and pyramids shimmering with lights, minarets, and monoliths, all currently blessed with an unmarked layer of snow. The planets weather satellites had been programmed to provide the city with traditional Christmas weather, in honor of the great