Birthright

“Quite clear,” said Vestolian dryly. “You're telling me that no one in the Commonwealth has the guts to

change the way he combs his hair without first clearing it with me.” “You insist on trying to simplify the situation,” said Zenorra, “and it's far from simple. For example, to examine the other side of the coin, you have the capacity to reward a member of the Commonwealth to a far greater degree than was ever previously possible. You can take a congenital idiot and elevate him to the head of any military force or scientific department, give him a planet of his own to rule, or do just about any other thing you please.”

“But along with your ability to reward or to punish,” interjected Oberlieu, “is your capacity to ignore. In fact, it's more than a capacity, it's a built-in shortcoming to the system. You received your power due to an accident of birth. You were born into the right family at what turned out to be the right time, and nothing short of the termination of your life, or a galaxy-wide revolution, can abrogate your position. You are the only man in the Commonwealth who is not ultimately responsible to either a higher authority or a planetary electorate. Hence, unlike all your billions of underlings, no decision you make can cause a change in your status, even if it were to plunge us into a real war, rather than this piddling little disturbance with the Argaves. Therefore, Seventh Millennium: Monarchy 205 is it any wonder that the buck is now being passed upward at a higher rate than ever before?” “And,” put in Zenorra, “with a galaxy to rule, it is only natural that, even with a different political setup, you wouldn't have the time to attend to a tenth of the problems that can be decided only by a Director. As things stand now...” His voice trailed off. “Correct me if I'm wrong,” said Vestolian, “but as nearly as I understand it, it is you and the other members of my advisory staff who decide which problems have priority and which are to be ignored.” “To an extent,” agreed Zenorra. “Though, of course, you are free to act—or, rather, to not act—on any problem that eventually reaches your desk. Similarly, you can issue directives on those problems that have not yet been placed before you.”

“That, essentially, is the system as it now stands?” said Vestolian. His advisers nodded.

“Then we're going to make some changes around here,” he said, staring defiantly at them. He was not by nature a man of action, this Director, nor had he even yet begun to realize the scope of his power; but he had gleaned enough to know that his word was absolute law, and that something had to be done to disseminate that law more rapidly and more equitably. He terminated the meeting after once again issuing orders concerning the Argave situation and returned to his quarters to think the situation out. He set up a meeting with Zenorra and Oberlieu three days later. In the interim, he received news of a skirmish in the Belthar region which had been ordered by his mother two decades earlier but which had only now been acted upon; of an entire alien population being destroyed when its sun went nova because the governor had been hesitant about ordering an evacuation without written approval from the Director; of some three hundred planetary heads of state who were mortally offended by his inability to meet privately with each of them during the week after his mother's death; and of a mysterious race of gaseous entities living in the Greater Magellanic Clouds that had not been contacted, befriended, studied, and/or exploited because no one knew the Director's views on the matter. “Gentlemen,” said Vestolian when his two highest aides had arrived, “I must admit that I've been sorely