He literally danced for joy, prancing back and forth before the map. “Nothing can stand in our way now! The Terran Commonwealth will fall before us. The galaxy is ours. We will make them tremble at the thought of us. We will make them cower at the mention of my name!”
The men of the Inner Cabinet nodded and murmured agreement.
Suddenly Kanus’ face hardened again and he whirled around to Kor. “Is this really a secret, or is someone else working on it too? What of this Leoh?”
“It is possible,” Kor replied as blandly as he could, “that Professor Leoh is also working along the same lines. After all, the dueling machine is his invention. But he does not have the services of a trained telepath, such as Odal.”
Kanus said, “I do not like the fact that you are depending on this failure, Odal.”
Kor allowed a vicious smile to crack his face”We are not depending on him, my Leader. We are using his brain. He is an experimental animal, nothing more.”
Kanus smiled back at the Minister. “He is not enjoying his new duties, I trust.”
“Hardly,” Kor said.
“Good. Let me see tapes of his … ah, experiments.”
“With pleasure, my Leader.”
The door to the far end of the room opened and Romis, Minister of Foreign Affairs, stepped in. The room fell into a tense silence as his shoes clicked across the marble floor. Tall, spare, utterly precise, Romis walked traight to the Leader, holding a lengthy report in his hand. His patrician face was graven.
“I have unpleasant news. Chancellor.”
They stood confronting each other, and everyone in the room could see their mutual hatred. Kanus—short, spare, dark—glared up at the silver-haired aristocrat.