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the ramp from the concourse.
    “Lord Whaler?”
    “The very same.”
    “I’m Cynda Ger-Lorthian, the Emperor’s Receiving Auditor. Would you be so kind as to accompany me to the receiving and waiting room?”
    “That is where the Emperor receives?”
    “Oh, no. That’s where you will wait until the Emperor is ready to receive you and where you will be briefed on how the presentation of your credentials will be conducted.”
    “Sounds like this is done most regularly,” the Ecolitan observed as he fell in behind the Receiving Auditor.
    “Really quite simple, but we do like to make sure there are no misunderstandings and that everything goes according to plan.”
    The receiving room, about the size of his office at the Legation, featured a semicircular table surrounded on one side by comfortable padded swivels. The table and chairs faced a blank wall.
    “If you would sit there, Lord Whaler, we’ll go through the procedures.”
    Nathaniel’s fingers flicked to his belt. The chair was snooped to the hilt, with virtually every kind of gimmickry that could be crammed into it. He turned toward the chair beside the one he’d been offered. It was rigged the same way.
    Nathaniel kept the smile from his face. One purpose of the room wasn’t exactly to impart information. He eased himself into the larger chair.
    Cynda Ger-Lorthian sat next to him and pulled a small panel from the drawer of the table. She pressed a stud.
    The mist of a holoscreen appeared on the other side of the table.
    “Here’s the way the receiving hall looks from the portal.”
    Nathaniel watched the view, as if he were looking into the enormous room, a gold-tan carpet leading from his feet out toward the throne of the Emperor.
    “This is the actual floor plan,” continued the Receiving Auditor as the holo display changed. “You can see you have almost fifty meters to walk before you reach the bottom step of the throne.
    “You’re scheduled for a ten minute presentation. That’s longer than average, which means that the Emperor will have something more than the formalities.”
    “When starts all this?”
    “At the time the previous appointment is complete, I’ll give you a signal. You walk in the portal and stand. After you are announced, the Emperor will recognize you, and you walk to the throne. Stop at the bottom and make some acknowledgment to the Emperor, a bow, head inclined, whatever is customary for you, which the Emperor will return. You climb to the fourth step, and the Emperor will come down to meet you.”
    “Here’s the way it will look. He is addressed as ‘Sovereign of Light.’”
    The holo projection showed a still version of the Emperor greeting someone on the wide steps below the throne.
    “Do you have any questions?” she finished up with the rush of someone who has repeated the same words time after time.
    “When is the audience completed?”
    “The words used to signify closure will be something like ‘May you enjoy the peace of the Empire.’ It is never quite the same. The Emperor enjoys minor deviations from the protocol.”
    Ger-Lorthian checked her timestrap and stood up.
    Nathaniel followed her example, and the two of them were rejoined outside the briefing room by his escort of four Imperial Marines.
    The portal to the receiving hall extended high enough to admit a full-sized combat skitter, and the closed, gold-plated portal was obviously backed with endurasteel. With the depth of the casements, Nathaniel doubted whether that Imperial combat skitter could have dented the surface of the portal.
    “When the chime sounds, Lord Whaler, the portal will open. Please step through and wait.”
    A deep bell echoed from the top of the portal casement. The doors recessed into the massive casements without so much as a whisper.
    Nathaniel stepped through and placed himself squarely in the middle of the ribbon of carpeting that ran toward the throne block.
    Five portals studded the immense circular hall of