of seventy that he finally succeeded. Centuries of Empire history had passed, and Herman followed them carefully. He read everything he could get into his computer on history-- Empire and otherwise. He wasn't sure what he was looking for; but he was sure that he had never found it. And then one day his inquiry at the sleeproom brought him the information that Abner Doon was awake. They wouldn't tell him how long Doon had been awake or how soon he would sleep again, but it was enough. Herman sent the message, and to his surprise, a message returned that Doon would see him. That Doon would even come to him.
Herman fretted for hours, wondering now what it was he had wanted to see Doon for. There was no filial feeling, Herman decided. Family was nothing to him. It was the wish of a great player to meet the man who had defeated him, that's all. Napolean's wish, just before his death, to talk to Wellington. Hitler's mad craving to speak to Roosevelt. Julius's dying passion to converse, for just a moment as the blood poured from him, with Brutus.
What's in the mind of the man who destroyed you? That was the question that had nagged at Herman's mind for years, and he wondered, now, if he would find the answer. And yet this would be his only chance. Herman's five years of therapy had cost him dearly, and he could see-- as so few others could-- his mortality waiting around the corner. Somec only postponed, it did not end.
"Grandfather," said a gentle voice, and Herman woke abruptly. When had he fallen asleep? No matter. Before him stood the short, now rather portly man that he recognized as his grandson. It was shocking to see how young Doon was, though. Hardly older than when they had locked horns so many, many years ago.
"My legendary opponent," said Herman, extending his hand.
Doon took the offered fingers, but instead of gripping them, he spread the old man's hand on his. "Even somec takes its toll, doesn't it?" he asked, and the sadness in his eyes told Herman that, after all, someone else understood the death that somec so cleverly carried within its life-preserving promise.
"Why did you want to see me?" Doon asked.
And heavy, slow, inexplicable tears rolled out of Herman's aging eyes. "I don't know," he said. "I just wanted to know how you were doing."
"I'm doing well," Doon said. "My department has colonized dozens of worlds in the last few centuries. The enemy's on the run-- we're going to outpopulate him if he doesn't do the same. The Empire's growing."
"I'm so glad. Glad the Empire's growing. Building on empire's such a lovely thing." Pointlessly he added, "I built an empire once."
"I know," Doon said. "I destroyed it."
"Oh yes, yes," Herman said. "That's why I wanted to see you."
Doon nodded and waited for the question.
"I wondered. I wanted to know why you chose me. Why you decided to do it. I can't remember why, you know. My memory isn't all it was."
Doon smiled and held the old man's hand. "No one's memory is, Grandfather. I chose you because you were the greatest. I chose you because you were the highest mountain I could climb."
"But why did you-- why did you tear? Why didn't you build another empire, and rival me?" That was the question. Ah, yes, that's the question, Herman decided. It was so much more satisfying though he still felt a small doubt. Hadn't he once had a conversation with Doon in which Doon answered him? Never. No.
Doon looked distant. "You don't know the answer?"
"Oh," Herman said, laughing, "I was once quite mad, you know, and thought you were out to wreck the Empire. They cured me."
Doon nodded, looking sad.
"But I'm quite better now, and I want to know. Just want to know."
"I tore-- I attacked your empire, Grandfather, because it was too beautiful to finish. If you had finished it, won the game, the game would have ended, and then what would have happened? It wouldn't have been remembered for very long. But now-- it's remembered forever."
"Funny, isn't it," Herman said, losing the thread of the conversation before Doon finished speaking, "that the greatest builder and the greatest wrecker should both come from the same-- should be grandfather and grandson. Funny, isn't it?"
"It's all in the family, isn't it?" Doon said with a smile.
"I'm proud of you, Doon," Herman said, and meant it for the time being. "I'm glad that if