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'Your Martian improvess, human.'

'Thankie, my liege.'

Xznaal grunted. It offended him to hear his language desecrated by a lower lifeform. The conversation would have to continue in the crude human dialect. 'The domesstic ssituation remainss volatile. Why?'

'The rabble are trying to take advantage of the new government. The riots are being orchestrated by extremists.

We'l capture the ringleaders. With your help, we've completely removed the enemy stronghold at Portsmouth. If you would authorise the use of the warship again - '

'That attack wass in retribution for the incident at Gatwick.' He paused to suck in more air. 'Our operation there wass dissrupted. One of our sshuttlecraft was desstroyed.'

Xztaynz faltered. 'Yes, I heard reports. But your crew?'

'My crew wass unharmed.' Xznaal barked. 'But al the livesstock esscaped.'

'How did it happen?'

Xznaal didn't reply. The Terran weapons were primitive, but they had penetrated the war rocket's armour. Xznaal had always known that his ship would be unable to withstand a nuclear blast, but last night human conventional rocketry and artillery had proved a great deal more effective than Martian military intelligence had suggested. It was a worrying development, but one that only confirmed the urgency of his endeavours.

'That iss of no importance. I will not authorisse the usse of the warsship except where Martian interesstss are directly threatened.'

'But Adisham - '

'The Time Lord wass a threat to Martian operationss. Enough of thiss: what of the other human clanss?'

'The foreign situation has stabilised, as we knew it would,' Xztaynz continued. 'Very few embassies have closed, and now that the foreign nationals are beginning to return home, and it's clear that it's business as usual - '

'Enough. Lord Gerayhayvun informss me that you are an expert on human art.'

The human shifted from one foot to the other, as it was wont to. 'I know a little. The curators here will be happy to help us if my knowledge proves imperfect. This place is so much more impressive without the mob surging around it in their backpacks and T-shirts.'

Xznaal looked around at the high ceilings and long galleries. Normally this place was open to humans of al ranks.

He understood that as the British state owned the exhibits, all taxpayers had free access to view the finest Earth art acquired in a millennium of conquest and commission. A noble arrangement for such a savage race. When he returned to Argyre, Xznaal vowed to throw open his own galleries to his subjects. The first exhibition would be one of human painting, weapons, flowers and sculpture.

He turned to the canvas on his right. 'What iss thiss one?'

'The Hay Wain. By Constable.'

'I like it. It sshowss the bounty of your human flora and fauna. Have it removed and taken to my chamberss in the Tower. Thiss one iss by the ssame artisst?'

'Correct, your majesty.'

'That one too. And that big horsse.'

'The Stubbs? Yes, King Xznaal.' The Home Secretary motioned to the curator and repeated the order.

When the curator had gone, Xztaynz turned back to Xznaal. 'Your majesty, I was at Television Centre yesterday.

The documentary on Martian history is proceeding very well. The photographs you provided of the last Marshall's funeral were very powerful.'

'Yess.' They showed the funeral barge moving up the Araxes Canal into the Fields of the Dead. Every Lord was there, their armour bedecked in gold. Xznaal had stood shell to shell with even his bitterest rivals, the leaders of the clans of Thaumasia and Erythraeum, united in grief for the ruler of all their people and in support of the new Marshal , the boy-king Paxaphyr. The funeral of a Marshall was such a contrast to the normal austerity of Martian life.

'I had no idea that your civilisation was so old. Hundreds of thousands of years. It makes human history seem so insignificant.'

'Indeed,' Xznaal whispered. 'Report on the consstruction of the sspace freighterss.'

'Er, yes, that is ahead of schedule. The first shipments to Mars wil begin at the end of the month.'

'Good,'