Nothing that Tiberius Maximillian Zeus did was subtle. There was no need. He ruled the largest civilized star system in the galaxy, home to most of humanity and large populations of every sentient alien race. His arrival at the main spaceport made that very clear to those in attendance. Four of the heavily armed and armored Pegasus Attack Craft came first, taking up stations at four points around the celebration area. Onboard scanners washed over the crowd, seeking to detect any hidden threats. The crowd surged away in panic when three people were outlined in red light. The three players, feverishly trying to assemble the parts of the plasma missile launcher they had smuggled in, didn't notice for the crucial first two seconds. The next second, heavy grazers destroyed them, leaving a ten-foot hole in the concrete stands, and scatter debris around the area.

  Security guards restored order to the panicked crowd, and the injured were evacuated to a nearby medevac ship, but, the pilot wisely refused to launch to take the wounded to a hospital and risk being shot out of the sky. Two more groups of rebels were destroyed as they moved to the exits. Scanners showed their weapons were no threat to armored vehicles, and they were allowed to exit the area before being targeted. The attack craft kept their stations, hovering over the spaceport, a constant reminder of who held the power.

  Six Cerberus armored landing craft were next, disgorging one hundred troops each from their three assault ramps. The troops raced to envelop a landing zone for the last craft to arrive. The Tyrant's personal space yacht was as large as the Pegasus gunships, but completely unarmed. Shimmering force fields rendered it safe from anything except the missiles or grazers from large warships. Not that it had ever had to deal with those. Hostile ships that got within a lightyear of the Tyrant were annihilated by the fleet that protected the system.

  Speakers on the hovering craft began blaring a ceremonial march as the yacht landed. Bodyguards emerged, then an entourage of the thirty people who currently held Zeus's favor at court. This list was mercurial and ever-changing, depending on his whims and what they had done lately. Figuring out what things Zeus would favor, and what he would denounce as fawning sycophancy, was a popular topic of the nobility on other worlds. Life in the Tyrant's court was exciting, stressful, and often brief. Yet a few people were with him often, chief among those the Queen of Venus, but as people craned their necks for a glimpse of her, they were disappointed. She, too, had whims, and she would often leave a social gathering for solitude to paint, write, or sculpt her latest inspiration.

  Finally, as the music grew dim, the Tyrant made his appearance. No one had ever said "I thought he'd be taller," in reference to Tiberius Maximillian Zeus. At seven and a half feet tall, he towered over his guards. Clad only in a white tunic, golden jewelry, and leather sandals, his sculpted muscles marked him as the epitome of power. A mane of golden hair framed his handsome face. Many sculptors had begged to etch his likeness in stone, and Zeus had refused, saying that any image made by a mere mortal was faint praise and unworthy of him. Disobeying this order was deemed either heresy, treason, or rebellion, depending on his mood. Likewise, no one dared film him. People did try, like one doomed person in this crowd. They were outlined in purple light and then disintegrated, informing everyone that today was a 'Treason Day.'

  The Tyrant raised his hands, and people cheered. Not that they had much choice in the matter. A large throne appeared, and the Tyrant sat and took a glass of wine from a servant, seeming to ignore what was going on around him. His herald strode forward, his voice amplified over the speakers of the hovering gunships.

  "Lord Zeus blesses you this day by his appearance. The Governor of Mars, the Lord of Phobos, and their friends and servants are asked to join him for the christening ceremony, which will take place immediately without lengthy speeches. His gift to those in the crowd."

  The Duke, the Count, and the people in their private boxes hurriedly moved to join Zeus. Not everyone was happy; the Count was especially nervous, whispering to his cousin, the Duke. "What the hell is going on? I thought this was your dog and pony show. It's like he showed up and just took over."

  The Duke could have strangled his cousin, but controlled his fear. "Dear god, Eddie, keep your voice down. That's Zeus. He's in control of the solar system. You like to remind me that this is a game. The quickest way to lose the game is to do something Zeus doesn't like. He can make or break anyone playing and if he kills you, you won't get back in.. But this is a good thing, so quit being nervous. He's going to invite us to his inner circle. Just being here is a huge PR coup."

  "But..."

  "Quiet. Be respectful and follow my lead. Or better yet, just stay quiet."

  Everyone walked behind the Duke, and when he knelt, so did they. Zeus stood and smiled. "Rise, Duke Archibald of Mars, and be at ease. When I was brought news of this splendid ship, I knew I had to become a part in this celebration. Wayland was kind enough to send me the schematics of your new starship. Very interesting innovations. Much less threatening than a Behemoth Class Warship to those who don't understand the true use of those cargo doors and bays. Versatile and deadly, but with all the comforts needed in a pleasure yacht. By my estimation, it is actually 10% deadlier than a standard Behemoth Class Warship. Your innovative design for the fusion drives saved space for other purposes. And it doesn't look as threatening, even if it is nine feet longer, stem to stern. Wayland says this is the largest ship Mars has ever produced. Well done, sir, well done. I applaud your visionary skills."

  He smiled and clapped, which brought a round of applause from the crowd. Then he snapped his fingers, and out of one of the troop carriers came three large cargo haulers that drove to the ship and up the cargo ramps.

  "I did notice that the wine racks had yet to be properly stocked, and decided that I'd rectify that for you. I also brought along a bottle of champagne that I've kept in a stasis field for over a thousand years. It's the last of a splendid vintage, but I think this ship deserves something special."

  Zeus took the bottle from a servant, then strode to the temporary stairs that led to the prow of the ship. As he was doing this, Mr. Borkavich took two steps toward Zeus's Captain of the Guard and pointed at the crowd. "In a few seconds, three men using high-pressure launchers made from gas cannisters in the catered food prep area are going to attempt to assassinate the Duke using explosives made from white phosphorus and aged vodka. Please shoot them as they run forward. We are just out of range unless they get next to the fence."

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  The Captain pointed his gun at an unconcerned Borkavich and gestured at his squad, pointing where Borkavich had indicated, just as three men burst out of the crowd, holding long tubes with gas cannisters on their backs. All three were shot dead immediately. No one moved a muscle. Zeus had watched from his lofty perch. He shook his head, grinning, indicating that he was amused and that Borkavich could live. Then he slammed the bottle against the hull, and foaming champagne erupted. "I christen thee the good ship Eunomia, after my seventeenth daughter."

  "What the hell, Archie? I thought you wanted to call it the Star Conqueror."

  "Quiet, it's fine, are you going to tell him to do it again, and get it right? Don't be stupid. Besides, I like the name, and I'm anxious to try a bottle of wine from my new wine cellar. His vineyards are said to produce legendary vintages, and he never sells them. That's billions of credits he just loaded onto the ship. He could have named it the Minnow, and I wouldn't have cared."

  Zeus jogged down the stairway and headed to where his captain was still holding a gun on Mr. Borkavich. "An interesting little addition to the festivities. Tell me how you knew of the attack, and why you didn't stop it earlier."

  Borkavich turned to Zeus, ignoring the Captain. "My job is to stop things like that from happening. I do this by asking myself, 'How would I outwit security, smuggle in weapons, and kill the Duke?' One plan would be to use a non-explosive propellant and a deadly payload that no one would suspect. It's interesting how many weapons you can make in a kitchen. Then I had unobtrusive cameras installed everywhere in the catering tents, kitchens, vans, and food prep areas. I had planned to stop these rebels myself when they began assembling the weapons, but they were very inept and took too long. By then, you had arrived and were scanning for other threats, and I calculated that there was a good chance all of the food would be annihilated if I alerted anyone that three chefs were making weapons in the main kitchen. I knew your troops would deal with them efficiently once they charged the fence. You were always out of range, and based on past reports, while the Duke would be dead in seconds, you'd emerge unscathed by the flames."

  Zeus stared hard at the mortal in front of him, trying to get a sense of him. Few people could stand so close to him and keep so calm. The Captain waited for the order to shoot him in the head. Zeus smiled, "Can you think of more ways to kill the Duke with weapons that would outwit his security?"

  "Yes, seventeen more."

  "Good. Good. I'm interested in hearing about them. I'm sure the Duke will be as well. Now," Zeus continued to smile, but not with his eyes. "Tell me how you would go about killing me."

  Borkavich didn't hesitate. "I would study every known assassination attempt to weed out ineffective methods. Then research every known fact about you. If I could find a possible way to harm you, I would create 'accidents' to expose you to those threats to see if you were harmed in any way, and create rebel suicide cells for the same purpose. If I ever found a weakness, I would take my time and create a weapon or situation that would exploit that weakness, preferably with massive overkill, since there are so many unknowns involved."

  Zeus put a hand on his shoulder, a rare sign of his favor, and the Captain holstered his pistol. "Excellent, you work for me now. I have an opening in risk management that I need to fill. I'm sure the Duke won't mind." He laughed, "Molotov cocktails and homemade napalm using kitchen equipment. That would have been a bad way for someone to die. Hmm, but I like the idea of walking through flames as an entrance. Work on that was well."

  The Duke had been shaken by the events, but inclined his head. "He's the best person for the job, and your safety is paramount, of course."

  Zeus strode to the Duke and put out his hand, "Good to see you again. When you catch up with things here, send a message, and maybe I'll have you swing by for a small dinner party. I know you have a lot of work ahead of you." He snapped his fingers, and a few of his men returned to the landing craft, while the others began to jog up the ramps and into the Eunomia. "And thank you for my new yacht." Those close enough to observe noted the twinkle in the Tyrant's eyes as he said that.

  The Duke wasn't one of them, and his own eyes widened in shock. He tried to speak, but the sheer power of the man took his breath away, and all he could do was nod, stupidly. Beside him, Eddie was slack-faced and drooling. Zeus looked at the two of them with disdain, then turned and walked away, saying to his herald. "Fill him in. I find the details dreary. He might still become someone useful to me. Come along, Mr. Borkavich, I wish to hear more about how you would try to kill me." Mr. Borkavich followed Zeus up the ramp, and the hatch closed.

  When Zeus was gone, the herald turned to the Duke. "Off the record, let me just say that as an item of tribute, this was memorable. Of course, we both know that you didn't intend for this to happen. Would you like to know where you erred? You haven't been given a thumbs down just yet, and may even get that dinner invitation."

  Archibald was still in shock, but anger was taking over. "No...that's my ship. I have all of my money tied up in it. I need it to deal with the rebels and take over the mines. You have to explain this to Zeus. He wants me to build ships, but I need more materials to do that!"

  The Herald rolled his eyes. "The last one-hundred and seventeen people to 'explain' something to our lord and master are dead. I have no desire to be the next. But, as a point of fact, you have quite a bit of the Tyrant's money tied up in it, and as of six minutes ago, you are late on an interest payment. In addition to the penalties, Lord Zeus has the right to secure collateral, which he has taken in the form of your ship. In the future, I think you should keep better track of your payments."

  "Nonono...."

  "Still in shock? He does have that effect on people. But let's go over a few things quickly. He doesn't give things back, but because of the splendor of the ship you built for him, the Tyrant will gift you two of his older Pegasus Gunships. They will be landing soon. This should help with your problem with the rebels. In addition, your next two interest payments will be gifted back to you. This gives you time to shoot some people and get the raw materials for more ships flowing in. Use this time wisely. And, I would highly recommend not building such a large and glorious warship next time. It was the pool and the movie theatre that really did you in, and the idiocy of trying to have the biggest ship in the system. Outdoing Lord Zeus in anything is considered heresy, except on alternate Wednesdays, when it is treason."

  He turned and walked up the last ramp, and a moment later, the landing engines began to warm up. The fragile humans ran for cover, and the brass band began playing.