Zach Hughes - For Texas and Zed

"Of this?"

"Yes, sir."

"It's remarkable," he said.

"Shall I show you?" the woman asked.

"Yes."

He seated himself. The woman disappeared. In a moment the model of the galaxy glowed to wondrous

life. It was as if he were looking from the viewport of a ship to see the universe spread before him.

A voice came to him, pleasant, speaking in Empire accents.

"We have traced your progress," the voice said. "From the time you left your home planet and entered

the galaxy here."

A red glow showed the point of entry.

"And I, personally, could not help but admire you," the female voice said, as the red glow began to move

into the galaxy, coloring star after star in its inevitable spread.

"The red color of your movements," the voice said, "the path of conquest as it passed Centaurus and then into Cassiopeian space."

Seeing it graphically reproduced, he felt, for the first time, the sweep of it. In his mind he relived the

march down the starways, in his eyes the glow of red, the color of his achievements.

"At the Battle of Wolfs Star," the woman was saying, but he blanked it from his mind, the voice, and let his eyes watch the march of red toward Earth and then it was all red, the galaxy, all red, all his. And as he watched motion began in the vast wheel as it simulated the 'whirl of the galaxy in space, the movement greatly accelerated. He watched it wheel before his eyes and wished, dreamed, that she was by his side to see. Riddent.

Or Arden Wal. Or Jakkes. Form and Billy Bob. His father. But he was alone with the slowly wheeling galaxy, his galaxy, his red, beautiful galaxy.

And they were dead. Riddent. His father. Form. Billy Bob was back on Texas, probably competing for the hand of a Texas girl. Jakkes and Arden were doing his work out in his galaxy and he was alone.

Emily.

He had offered her a chance to be by his side and she had refused.

A moment of hurt and anger. He could send for her. He was Lex. He could order and she would come,

or be forced to come.

But no.

"Please go," he said.

The woman heard. "Yes, sir," her amplified voice said.

"Leave it turning."

Now he was truly alone with his galaxy and it flowed in red and wheeled in front of his eyes and he

remembered the awe he had felt when he first came to be aware of the extent of the old Empire. Now the Empire seemed puny when compared with the sweep of his galaxy. Now it was all one, under the protection of Texas, a unit. Billions of people with the capability of expanding, of peopling the uninhabited stars past galactic center. Cassiopeia and Empire were one, under the flag of Texas.

Why, then, did he feel as empty as space, as sterile as a sun which has long since gone into nova, crisping life from its planets?

Emily.

She had been so close, once. And there on the flagship when she'd come with the Texican delegation she'd been cold, sadness in her eyes. Why sadness? He had not changed. She compared him with the ancient conquerors of old Earth and, in effect, told him that he had changed. But he bad not changed. He was older and he'd seen enough death and destruction to drive the joys and frivolity of youth from his mind, but every man grows up. How had he changed?

He remembered the day in his home when she was preparing him for his first venture into the Empire, a trip as a prisoner. And, as if she were with him, standing by his side as the model of the galaxy rolled, he could hear her voice.

"You cried because it was beautiful," she had said. "I hope you never lose the ability to cry over beauty."

"No," he said aloud, "I have not changed."

And with a gesture of personal triumph, he wiped a tear from his cheek.

"I haven't changed," he said, his voice going out to lose itself in the sheer wonder and beauty of the galaxy which wheeled majestically before him. His galaxy. And somewhere in it the memory—he did not believe in the soul—the fractured atoms of what once had been Riddent and his unborn son, old Form, dead at Wolfs Star, all of them, all the good Texicans dead and gone, their elemental particles spinning, spinning in space or reintegrating with the soil of Dallas City. And he felt a vast and overwhelming sadness as he watched the model of the galaxy spin them away from him forever. He had come so far. So far. Now it was over, the fighting. Now was only the task of restoring order, of making the galaxy the best possible place for people.

His sadness faded as he faced the task ahead. The Orion Arm swept past him in the accelerated spin of the galactic model and he thought of its emptiness, its vast distances, and relived the march inward, the great, grinding power of it, the cold satisfaction of it, the heat and smell of men at war and the flash of a disintegrating enemy ship of the line. He had led the greatest march of all time. And it was over.

That, he knew suddenly, was the greatest sadness of all. And he knew, then, what she had been talking about, Emily, when she told him he had changed, for it was over and there were no more worlds to conquer and ahead of him stretched the endless chore of keeping it going, his empire.

"When it's over," he had told her, "I'll come home."

But he knew now that he could never go home, for he was at home, wherever he was in his galaxy.

BURNS, LEXINGTON—2572-2605

President, Planet Texas; President, United Texican Galactic Protectorate, later called Emperor. Born to Murichon and Alica Burns, July 13, 2572, on the outlying planet of Texas. Participated in early trading between Texas and the First Galactic Empire; he was sentenced to a punishment tour in the Empire fleet for the kidnapping of Lady Gwyn Ingles in 2589. Served two years in the Empire fleet before enlisting the aid of confederates in taking an Empire ship to Texas. The activities of Burns were instrumental in precipitating the Great War of the Galaxy which ended in Texican conquest, uniting the galaxy, for the first time, under the flag of the Planet Texas. Burns took control of the governmental functions of both the Empire and the Allied Cassiopeian Dictatorships in 2595. An efficient administrator, Burns is credited with altering the age-old patterns of galactic life through agricultural reform and an enlightened attitude toward the freedom of the individual. Adept at delegating authority, Burns seemed to have a flair for selecting efficient governors to administer the vast Empire which he established. Married in his youth to a Texican girl, first name Riddent, surname unknown, he was widowed during the Last Battle of Texas in 2592. He never remarried, although court gossip linked him, with some justification, with various women, among them one Lady Gwyn Ingles, cousin of the former Emperor. His death at the age of thirty-three engendered a lengthy investigation, during which various charges were made and disproved. Popular folklore to the effect that Burns was poisoned by a jealous lover has not found historical confirmation. Upon the death of Burns, the United Texican Galactic Protectorate disintegrated into warring factions, although General Arden Wal, appointed as a successor to Burns, defeated, first, the revolt of the Cassiopeian sector in 2608 and then the New Republics of Texas in 2611. Of Burns, Professor Axil Zenthith has said, in his authoritative Lex the Conqueror , "He was a man five hundred years ahead of his time. His one mistake was in thinking that galactic man, only six hundred years removed from the home planet, could accept and handle unlimited freedom. The worst that can be said of Burns is that he gave the people of the galaxy too much too soon."

GLOSSARY:

Airors: Probably short for air horse. A one man unit of transportation on the Planet Texas.

Arc: A Texican contraction for aircar, used for atmospheric travel on the Planet Texas.