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Hovan had zeroed in on Tarlac's thought, though the Ranger didn't believe what he described would ever have a chance to happen. "I'll have to retake the psych tests, then it depends. Maybe I'll be disqualified from anything that involves Ch'kara or the Traiti, maybe I'll have to resign. The decision will be up to His Majesty." "He would you demote?"
When giving him his farewell instructions, the Secretary of State had not attempted to deceive him. "Of all the smaller republics of Central America," he frankly told him, "Amapala is the least desirable, least civilized, least acceptable. It offers an ambitious young diplomat no chance. But once a minister, always a minister. Having lifted you out of the secretary class we can't demote you.
"Only if he doesn't have a choice; the Empire needs Rangers. And even if he does have to demote me, I won't be dishonored or anything. Something like this happened once before, about four hundred years ago, to a Ranger named Jeff Shining Arrow. He lost his detachment, too got married, had kids so Empress Lindner made him a Duke. Emperor Davis would probably commission me into the Fleet."
To tell you the truth, I'd have to search a while to find Old Sol again. I can't see just where he is. Of course, I could locate him by means of the gyroscope settings, but I'm afraid I wouldn't find him so easily visually." "Say! You sure are a fine one to pilot an expedition in space!" cried Wade in mock horror. "I think we ought to demote him for that! Imagine!
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