So, after my grandfather conquered Belloq IV, and my father subjugated the entire Karolian Empire, it was my turn.

Of course, I’d known it for years. You don’t grow up as the eldest male in the bloodiest family in an entire galactic sector and not have some notion of what the future holds for you. And actually, it looked like a very nice future. I’ve never noticed Dad or Grandpa looking too unhappy with their positions.

I suppose I should introduce myself before we go any further. I am Bloodlust the Conqueror—actually, you can call me Jimmy in private—and I made my debut by conquering the little-known human colony of Enterprise out in the Baroti Sector. Total time from start to finish: seventy-six minutes, which beat all eighteen of Dad’s records.

It may have been the easiest conquest on record. The enemy fired only five shots, and it later turned out that three of them were from a shooting range’s target pistol.

So I had Jasper, my lieutenant, assemble their leaders, walked up to a microphone, and addressed them.

“Greetings, subjugated masses,” I said. “I am Bloodlust the Conqueror, and you are now my subjects.” (Actually, I wanted to say “my vassals,” but I couldn’t remember the damned word. Next world, I write out my speeches.)

“What do you want of us?” asked one of them.

Truth to tell, I hadn’t given it all that much thought. “Oh, the usual,” I said. “Slavish devotion, usurious taxes, a conscripted and expendable army.” I paused, trying to think of anything I had missed, when Jasper leaned over and whispered to me. “Oh,” I said. “And your sexiest women.”

“But we’re not even remotely the same species,” said another subject.

“Jasper, write that subject’s name down!” I commanded.

Jasper got it and scribbled it in one of his notebooks.

“Got it?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Now cross it out,” I said with a nasty smile.

He did as I told him, while the subject simply stood there looking bewildered.

We all stared at each other for the next minute or two, and finally one of my new subjects spoke up.

“Was there anything else you wished to tell us, O mighty Bloodlust?”

I cursed myself again for not having prepared a speech.

“Never bet on horses who are moving up in class,” I said at last, deciding I might at least share a little wisdom with them. “Oh, and beware of Denebian brandy, especially the purple kind.”

“Was there something perhaps more practical?” asked the subject.

“Yeah,” I said. “Never trust redheads named Thelma.”

“In case it has eluded you, we don’t have any hair.”

“Then it’s even better advice than you bargained for,” I said. “Now go about your business, whatever it may be, and leave a couple of representatives with me so we can go over the new ground rules.”

“We don’t have any representatives or leaders,” answered one of them. “We’re a totally classless society.”

“I could tell you had no class just by looking at you,” I said. “Okay, you and you”—I pointed to two of the closest ones—“stick around for five or ten minutes while we create a constitution.”

Jasper leaned over to me.

“We don’t want a constitution, sir,” he whispered. “That might give them the opportunity to vote, or to change laws without your permission.”

“Or go to war without your permission,” said another of my flunkies. “Or worse still, refuse to go to war when you order them to.”

“Point taken,” I said. “And don’t worry. Fifteen or twenty more worlds and I’ll get the hang of it.”

I turned to face the two volunteers.

“How much are you guys paying in taxes?”

“Taxes?” asked one of them, frowning. “Isn’t that a state back on our origin planet?”

“Yeah,” chimed in the other. “Got lotsa cowboys and horses, whatever they are.”

“You’re misunderstanding me,” I said, making a mental note to make misunderstanding me an imprisonable offense. “Taxes, not Texas.”

They stared at me.

“How do you pay for your government and civic services?” I asked.

“And military,” added Jasper.

“We ain’t got no civic services,” answered one of them.

“What about the government?” I said.

They just looked confused.

“Street cleaners and schools and courts and like that,” I said, starting to get a little hot around the collar—or where a collar would be if I weren’t showing off my magnificent torso.

“That’s all volunteer work,” they answered. “Well, unless it’s a hot or rainy day, or the circus is in town, or for some other reason we don’t feel in the mood to participate in civic activities.”

“How does the damned planet work?” I demanded.

“Pretty much the way you see it.”

Jasper leaned over and whispered to me, “We don’t talk about it back home, but your father’s first six conquests were much the same.”

“And my grandfather’s?”

Jasper sighed. “Eight.”

“How the hell does the galaxy function?” I demanded.

“Why do you think it’s so easy to conquer ’em?” replied Jasper.

A third local entered the room.

“I hate to annoy you, Lord Bloodlust, but we’ve got a water shortage throughout the south quadrant of town. Oh, and there’s a power outage throughout the center of the city.”

“I’ll look into it,” I said.

“Good. You wouldn’t want word to get around that you don’t keep your property in working order. People might fight back when you came to conquer them.”

“You mean planets surrender because they expect their conquerors to bear the burden of putting them in working order and fixing their economies and like that?” I demanded.

“It’s less painful than fighting a war, actually winning it, and having to fix everything ourselves.”

I turned questioningly to Jasper. “Can this be true?”

Jasper sighed deeply. “I am afraid so, Sire.”

“But look at Father and Grandfather,” I said. “They are still conquering worlds.”

“As Step One in their ultimate professions.”

I frowned. “Their ultimate professions?”

“Real estate brokers.”

That evening, I sold Enterprise for sixty-three credits to a gambler who was down on his luck. He was a little short of cash, but given the alternative, I’m happy to wait for it.