The Best Made Plans | Page 9

at him.
"Um-m-m, yes. That's good, Mara," he said. "Michaels, suppose you go on from there."
Don glanced across at the student who had just finished her recitation, but she merely gave him a blankly unfriendly stare. He looked back at the instructor.
"I lost the last few sentences," he admitted. "Sorry."
Barnes smiled sardonically. "Well, there's an honest admission," he said. "What's the last you picked up?"
Don shrugged resignedly.
"The appointment of Daniel Stern as Minister of Finance," he said. "That would be in eight twelve."
"You didn't miss too much." Barnes nodded. "You just got a little ahead. Take it from there."
"After a few months, the financial affairs of the kingdom began to improve," Don commenced.
"By the middle of eight thirteen, the tax reforms were in full effect. There was strong opposition to the elimination of the old system--both from the old nobility, who had profited by it, and from some of the colonists. But an Enforcement Corps was formed to see that the new taxes were properly administered and promptly paid. And the kingdom became financially stable." He paused.
Actually, he realized with a start, it had been Stern who had founded and trained the Enforcement Corps--first to enforce the revenue taxes, and later as a sort of national police force. And it had always been Stern who had controlled the Enforcement Corps. It was almost a private army, in fact. Maybe Pete---- He continued his recitation.
"Then Prime Minister Delon died rather ... rather suddenly, and the king appointed Mr. Stern to the vacancy. And when King Weronar himself died a little more than four years ago, Prime Minister Stern was acclaimed as prince regent." Don paused thoughtfully.
* * * * *
Delon's death had been sudden--and a little suspicious. But no one had questioned Stern or any of his people about it. And the death of the king and queen themselves--now there was.... Again, he got back to his recitation.
"There was opposition to Mr. Stern's confirmation as Regent, of course, since he was a galactic and not native to the planet. But he was the prime minister, and therefore the logical person to take the reins." He frowned.
"The claims to the throne were--and still are--pretty muddled. No one of the claimants supported by the major tribes is clearly first in line for the throne, and no compromise has been reached." The frown deepened.
"Traditionally," he went on, "the Star Throne should never be vacant for more than five years. So we can expect to see a full conclave of the tribes within a few months, to choose among the claimants and select one to be either head of the clan Onar, or the founder of a new royal line."
Barnes nodded. "Yes, that's fairly clear. But we must remember, of course, that the tradition you mention is no truly binding law or custom. It's merely a superstitious belief, held to by some of the older people, and based on ... well----" He smiled faintly.
"Actually, under the present circumstances, with no claimant clearly in line, and with the heraldic branch still sifting records, it is far more practical and sensible to recognize the need for a continued regency." He took a step back and propped himself against his desk.
"In any event, most of the claimants of record are too young for independent rule, so the regency will be forced to carry on for some time."
He looked for a fleeting instant at the inconspicuous monitor speaker on the wall.
"As matters stand now, the tribes might find it impossible to decide on any of the claimants. As you said, there is no truly clear line. King Weronar died childless, you remember, and his queen didn't designate a foster son." He shrugged.
"Well, we shall see," he added. "Now, suppose we go back a little, Michaels. You said there was some opposition from the colonists to the tax reforms of eight twelve. Can you go a little more into detail on that?"
Don touched his face. He'd been afraid of that. Somehow, neither the book nor the lectures really jibed with some of the things he'd heard his father talk about. Something about the whole situation just didn't make full sense. He shrugged mentally. Well....
The door opened and a student runner came into the room. Don watched him walk up to Mr. Barnes with some relief. Maybe, after the interruption, someone else would be picked to carry on.
The youngster came to the desk and handed a slip to the instructor, who read it, then looked up.
"Michaels," he said, "you seem to have some business at the self-government office. You may be excused to take care of it."
* * * * *
Al Wells looked up as Don entered the office.
"What's the---- Oh, Michaels. Got some questions for you on that row you stopped in the locker room yesterday."
"Oh? I thought my write-up was