“This is the last time either way,” said Alai, then grinned. “Either the soldiers will follow me or they won’t.”

“They will,” said Peter. “If they get the chance.”

Alai indicated his small escort. “That’s what my camera crew is here to ensure.”

Ivan smiled and lifted his shirt enough to show that he was wearing a bulletproof vest and carrying grenades and clips and a machine pistol.

“Oh,” said Peter. “I thought you had gained weight.”

“We Battle School boys,” said Alai, “we always have a plan.”

“You’re not going to fight your way in, then.”

“We’re going to walk in as if we expected to be obeyed,” said Alai. “With cameras rolling. It’s a simple plan. But it doesn’t have to work for very long. That thick rope, it always did love a camera.”

“A vain and brutal man, my sources say,” said Peter. “And not stupid.”

“We’ll see,” said Alai.

“I think you’re going to succeed,” said Peter.

“So do I.”

“And when you do,” said Peter, “I think you’re going to do something about the things Virlomi has been complaining about.”

“It’s because of those things that I could not wait for a more opportune time. I must wash Islam clean of this bloody stain.”

“I believe that with you as Caliph, the Free People of Earth can coexist with a united Islam,” said Peter.

“I believe so as well,” said Alai. “Though I can never say so.”

“But what I want,” said Peter, “is insurance that I can use in case you don’t survive. Either today or at some future point, I want to make sure I don’t have to face a Caliph I can’t coexist with.”

Peter handed Alai a couple of sheets of paper. It was a script. Alai began to read.

“If you die a natural death and pass on your throne to someone you have chosen, then I’ll have no need of this,” said Peter. “But if you were murdered or kidnapped or exiled or otherwise dethroned by force, then I want this.”

“And what if you are killed or otherwise forcibly removed from office?” asked Alai. “What happens to this vid then, assuming I say these things for the camera?”

“Try to encourage your followers not to think that killing me would be good for Islam,” said Peter, “and my soldiers and doctors will guard against any other possible causes of my untimely death.”

“In other words, I just have to risk it,” said Alai.

“Come now,” said Peter, “the only way this vid will be useful is if you aren’t around to repudiate it. And if I’m dead, it will have no value to my unworthy successor.”

Alai nodded. “True enough.”

He stood up, opened his suitcase, and dressed in the flamboyant costume of a Caliph as the Muslim people expected to see him. Meanwhile, Peter’s vidman set up his equipment—and the backdrop, so it wouldn’t be obvious it was taped on a battlecraft, surrounded by soldiers.