Free The Gripping Hand by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle Page B

Institute, and the University of Cambridge. In exchange for the privilege of appointing a majority of the regents, the first kings of Sparta endowed the University of Sparta with extensive lands in the hill regions south and east of the capital. Much of that land was subsequently leased to commercial institutions, so that the University enjoys a large income not under political control. The name was changed to Imperial University during the early years of the First Empire.

     

     
The capital has also expanded to engulf lands previously granted to the aristocracy, some of whom retain estates now surrounded by city buildings.

     

     
     
     

    The study at Blaine Manor looked like what the designer had imagined were the rooms of an Oxford don in the nineteenth century. The furniture was leather and dark wood. Holograms of books lined the seven-meter walls, and a rolling ladder stood in one comer. Roderick, Lord Blaine, Earl of Acrux, DSC, GCMG, Captain ISN (Ret.), frowned at it as he went past. Nobody ever used it except to maintain the hologram generators. He'd sworn a dozen times to have the place redecorated to something more functional, but so far nothing that appealed to him was satisfactory to Sally, and it did show images of real books in his library. As usual he looked over some of the titles. Macaulay's History of England stood next to Gibbon. Crofton's Guide to the CoDominium . Savage's classic Lysander the Great . Ought to read that one again . . . .
     
     

    Blaine crossed the study and went into the small office off to one side. "I thought I heard a door slam."
     
     

    Sally Blaine looked up from the computer. "Glenda Ruth."
     
     

    "Another fight?"
     
     

    "Let's just say our daughter is not entirely happy with the rules at Blaine Manor."
     
     

    "Independent sort. Reminds me of someone I used to know."
     
     

    " Used to know? Thank you."
     
     

    Rod grinned and put a hand on her shoulder. "Still do. You know what I mean."
     
     

    "I suppose—you didn't come in here to talk about Glenda Ruth."
     
     

    "No, but maybe I ought to have a word with her."
     
     

    "I wish you would, but you never do. What's up?"
     
     

    "Got a message. Guess who's coming to visit?"
     
     

    Sally Blaine looked back at the computer screen and scowled. "Thank you very much. I've just managed to straighten out our social schedule. Who?"
     
     

    "His Excellency Horace Hussein al-Shamlan Bury, Magnate. And Kevin Renner."
     
     

    Sally thought. "It'd be nice to see Mr. Renner again. And . . . Bury comes with him, I seem to remember. Watchdog. I suppose—"
     
     

    "I won't have Bury in our home. He was one of the instigators of the New Chicago revolt."
     
     

    Lady Blaine froze.
     
     

    He squeezed her shoulder. "Sorry."
     
     

    "I'm all right." She patted his hand, then ran fingertips up into the loose sleeve of his dressing gown. Smooth, ridged, hairless. "Your scars are real."
     
     

    "You spent weeks in a prison camp, and you lost your friend."
     
     

    "It was a long time ago, Rod. I can't even remember Dorothy's face. Rod, I'm glad you didn't tell me then. Nine months on Mac-Arthur with Horace Bury. I'd have spit in his face."
     
     

    "No, you wouldn't. You won't now. I know you. I suppose we'll have to see him, but we'll keep it to a minimum. I gather Bury's done some good work for the Secret Service."
     
     

    "Let me think about it. At the worst we can take them to dinner. Someplace neutral. I do want to see . . .  Sir Kevin?"
     
     

    "Right again, I'd forgotten. I want to see him, too." Blaine smiled. "For that matter, so will Bruno Cziller. I better tell him his crazy navigator is in town. Tell you what, love. Since the news came through the Institute, I'll invite them to the Institute. They may regret that. Everyone and his dog will want to interview them."
     
     

    When Sally turned around, she was smiling broadly. "Yes, the Institute. We have a surprise for His