Part 35 (1/2)

He put pressure on the trigger.

”The guy's as sore as a singed gersal,” he told himself. ”And half nuts besides. He'll spray Pete with that thing if it's the last thing he ever does.” He continued his pressure on the trigger. The cross hairs still hovered about the man's ear.

”Hope that anatomy book was right,” he told himself.

Of course, he realized, if he missed the tiny target--if the bullet failed to destroy the motor centers on impact--Stern would die anyway.

But he just might be able to press the release on that khroal. And that wouldn't be good.

The aiming point moved a trifle and Don eased back into position.

What had happened to the trigger on this thing? Had he forgotten to take off the safety? Again, the cross hairs started to wander and he eased them back--back toward that little spot.

The rifle leaped upward with a roar, slamming back against Don's shoulder. He let it settle again, examining the scene anxiously through his sight.

Stern was still on his feet, but his hands were dropping limply to his sides. Don could just see the glitter of the khroal by Pete's feet.

Then, Stern's knees bent and he flowed to the ground.

Pete had turned at the sound of the shot. He looked back at the palace door, then glanced at the khroal.

At last, he knelt beside the body on the ground. He felt the throat, then examined the man's head. For an instant, he looked a little sick, then he looked away from the tiny hole in front of the man's ear. He got to his feet and waved a hand.

”Pinwheel,” he shouted.

The newly enrobed King of Oredan settled back in his chair and shook the heavy cloth back from his shoulder.

”So,” he said thoughtfully, ”it's all over.” He sighed.

”And it's all just beginning, too. Now, I'll have to form a government.” He smiled sadly.

”It's funny, Don. For years, I've dreamed of actually being king. Now it's suddenly happened and I feel about as helpless as they come.” He stretched out a hand. ”All at once, I'm realizing it's pretty rough for a schoolboy to suddenly find himself with a whole nation to run. I don't know where to start.”

”You'll get used to it, Pete.” Don smiled at him. ”Get yourself a few really competent advisors. Tell them what you want, and let them go out and get some competent people to do things. And you've got it whipped.”

”Yeah.” Pete nodded. ”Yeah, I guess that's the way it's done. But---- Well, I asked for it. And they handed it to me.” He looked directly at Don.

”How about you? You've got plenty of clan rank, you know. What department do you want?”

Don shook his head slowly. ”Don't look at me,” he advised. ”They offered me a spot in the Stellar Guard and I'm signing up.” He glanced around the room.

”I've got no place here.”

”What are you talking about?” Pete frowned. ”I owe this whole thing to you. I wouldn't even be alive if you hadn't been around. You can have anything you want here, and you know it. What can the Federation offer you?”

Don shrugged. ”Oh, I don't know,” he said. ”Lot of work, of course.