Mike Resnick - Birthright

“Well, we can't very well get whichever member of the council we decide to spare to make that

promise,” said Connough. “We are talking, Admiral, about overthrowing the most powerful single political and military establishment ever to exist. It is only natural that uncertainties as to its accomplishment and aftermath should exist.” “What's to stop the media and the public from assuming that the surviving Oligarch engineered the whole thing himself?” asked Broder, changing the subject. “An attempt will be made on his life as well, and doubtless he will sustain serious but nonfatal wounds. The would-be assassins will not live to tell what they know. Blame for the incident will be laid on a certain radical fringe group which, though innocent, will be only too happy to take credit for it.” “How soon are you ready to move?'’

“Within the next thirty days,” said Connough. “This means that Admiral Klare must be assassinated almost immediately.”

“It's a harebrained scheme,” said Broder. “What makes you think I won't turn you in the moment you've left my office? After all, this conversation hasn't been monitored or recorded. I could deny any complicity whatsoever and become a hero overnight.” “Indeed you could,” agreed Connough. “However, that is a risk I must take.” “You're a cool customer, I'll grant you that,” said Broder. “When must you have my decision?” “By this evening. You needn't contact me again. If you decide to join us, find some way to have Admiral Klare admit a man named Deros Boron to his office tomorrow afternoon. Everything else will be taken care of, and you will receive further instructions at the proper time. If Boron cannot gain admittance to Klare's office, you will have rejected my proposal.” “Is there any way I can get in touch with you?” asked Broder. “None,'’ said Connough, rising and leaving the room. Broder sat and stared at the wall. It was a crazy proposition, a million-to-one shot. It probably wouldn't get off the ground at all. The odds were even that Klare would come out unscathed. The odds were astronomical that the Oligarchy would survive. And the odds extended almost to infinity that even if Klare and six of the Oligarchs were successfully gotten out of the way, the seventh Oligarch wouldn't see eye to eye with the men who had so swiftly turned him into the most powerful sentient entity in history. And, he grimaced, the odds of his surviving were considerably longer than the odds on any of the intended victims. So much for the negative side ... but was there even a hint of a positive argument? There was.

It was preceded by half a hundred ifs, but it ended with him in total charge of the entire military complex of the Oligarchy.

Unlikely? Hell, yes. Improbable? Certainly. But not impossible.

The likelihood was that the Oligarchy would survive intact, and if it did, there was the certainty that he

would remain second in command of the Deluros VIII defense fleet. The less likely outcome—by far—was that the Oligarchy would crumble, and that he would ascend to a position that, under existent conditions, was completely out of his reach. He pondered every aspect of the situation and realized that logic had taken him as far as it could. Now instinct, intuition, experience, everything that made him Man rather than machine, took over. He pressed the intercom button on his desk. “Admiral Klare? This is Broder. There's a fellow named Boron who's got some pretty interesting information about Belasko. Could you possibly see him tomorrow afternoon?” SEVENTH MILLENNIUM: MONARCHY

17: THE RULERS

...Vestolian I (6284-6348 G.E.) was one of the less ambitious rulers during the early period of the Commonwealth. Quiet and introspective, his reign took on the characteristics of his personality. Upon assuming the Directorship he immediately issued a number of proclamations which, depending on one's interpretation, might have strengthened his office immeasurably or weakened it fatally. Unfortunately, we will never know the effects these proclamations might have had, for in 6321, the second year of his reign...

— Man: Twelve Millennia of Achievement ...Though the seventh millennium of the Galactic Era was called the Commonwealth, it is now more properly known to historians as the Monarchy. The words differ considerably; the facts do not.

One of the most enlightened and foresightful of the early monarchs was Vestolian I, who ruled from to 6348. It was he who tried to return some portion of the power his immediate ancestors had usurped from the people with his dramatic proclamation of 6320. Two advisers, Zenorra and Oberlieu, are generally credited with reawakening within him the lust for absolute authority and the subsequent repeal of...

— Origin and History of the Sentient Races, Vol. 8 A monarchy can be far and away the most efficient form of government. It can also be the most inept. In both cases, the determining factor is the monarch. An intelligent, selfless, and decisive monarch can take swift and sure actions without spending days—or years—working his way through miles of red tape or compromising with multitudes of legislative factions. A well-meaning but unenlightened monarch must rely on his advisers, each of whom has a certain amount of self-interest at stake. And a stupid, petty, self-serving monarch has more capacity for mischief, misrule, and out-and-out evil than the holder of any other office.

During the early centuries of the Monarchy, the race of Man had known all three types of monarchs, and several others of intermediate shadings. The Monarchy was officially established in 5994 (Galactic Era); by 6013, there had been seven assassinations and/or insurrections, and it wasn't until the reign of Torlon II, beginning in 6067, that any true line of succession was established. Torlon II gave stability to a crumbling galactic economy, solidified and reasserted Man's hold on his possessions, dubbed Man's empire the Commonwealth, and gave himself the title of Director. He also outlived his two sons and four daughters, and was succeeded in 6126 by his grandson, Torlon III, whose major contribution to the Monarchy was the Floating Kingdom, a huge planetoid which had originally been one of the remnants of Deluros VI, but which he sealed with a dome and equipped with the motive power to navigate

throughout the Commonwealth. The Floating Kingdom became the home of all future Directors, though

most of the bureaucratic business was still carried out on Deluros VIII—and, in point of fact, the Floating Kingdom rarely left the immediate vicinity of the Deluros system except on official visits of state. Torlon III proved sterile, and his niece, Valla I, became the first Directrix in 6148. She was followed by eight more Directors and another Directrix before Vestolian ascended to the Directorship in 6319. A small, studious man, soft-spoken and uncomfortable in public, he reached his position of power only after two older brothers had died in the same tragic life-support-system malfunction that claimed the life of his mother, Biora I. Unprepared both by temperament and training to direct the affairs of the race, he was nonetheless a man of goodwill who resolved to master the intricacies of his office and preside over the Commonwealth to the best of his not inconsiderable abilities. He had been Director for exactly five days when he found himself embroiled in a war against three star systems he had never even heard of.

“All right,” he said, when he had finally managed to assemble the bulk of his mother's advisers before him. “As most of you probably know, I was awakened in the middle of the night and informed that the Commonwealth is at war. Admittedly it's not much of a war, since there are a lot of us and not very many of them, but it's a war nonetheless. Now, would somebody here like to tell me just what is going on? I didn't authorize any war, and I've hardly been in office long enough to offend anyone. Who are the Argaves, anyway, and what is the reason for their actions?” Oberlieu, the Prefect of Alien Affairs, stepped forward. “If I may, Director?” Vestolian nodded, and he cleared his throat. “Director, the Argaves are a humanoid race, at least as high on the evolutionary scale as Man. At present they control three systems, and their own birthplace is thought to be on Darion V.” “What seems to be their problem?” asked Vestolian. “They were incorporated into the Commonwealth almost two centuries ago,” said Oberlieu. “It was soon decided that they were not contributing their fair tax load to Deluros, and your great-great-uncle, Jordin II, imposed a heavy tariff on all agricultural products exported from their systems.” He paused, seeming ill at ease.