Leading Estarra, Peter walked directly to the head of the broad table, where Rory was seated. “Come, there is no need to be so isolated, Rory. If we move two of these chairs, there is plenty of room for the three of us to sit together, as equals.” He flashed Basil an icy smile. “In the spirit of cooperation and mutual respect.”

Peter’s protocol ministers quickly moved to rearrange the seats, while Sarein looked away, as if to hide an embarrassed smile. Estarra and Peter sat on either side of Rory, who had to be operating under a very strict set of guidelines, just like Sarein.

As the elaborate meal was served, one appetizer after another, colorful salads, cold and refreshing palate cleansers, a variety of meats, OX remained close to Peter. The Teacher compy carefully analyzed each course, screening it for poisons, hallucinogens, or any other dangerous chemical additives. As a matter of protocol, the servants dished the food from large communal plates, so that if one item were tainted, King Rory would receive a dose as well. Nevertheless, Peter wouldn’t have put it past the Chairman to give his patsy an antidote before the banquet or have him build up a tolerance to something deadly. On the other hand, though, Basil wouldn’t expect Peter to be fooled easily.

Peter still wondered why the Chairman had summoned them here. Was it just so that he’d have a chance to see Rory up close? The young man certainly did look like his brother. Every chance he got, Peter glanced at the other King, studied his mannerisms, his appearance. He couldn’t be certain.

During the meal, Rory kept up a patter of shallow conversation, sidestepping any issues of substance and offering no hints about his past. He did not say a thing to try to convince Peter. which, in its own way, was all the more convincing. If this were a trick, Basil would have primed the imposter with a wealth of compelling little details. Peter dropped a few carefully veiled hints relating to his old family life, hoping that Rory — if he was the real Rory — would pick up on them. But the young King did not respond either way.

Sarein did speak up to ask about baby Reynald, and Estarra was pleased to tell her sister about the little boy.

“I hope I can see him someday,” Sarein said, then stopped talking, as if sure she had said too much.

Peter turned coolly to the Chairman. “So, Basil, is it true that you have relocated your main office from the Hansa HQ to an underground bunker somewhere? Are you really hiding under a rock during Earth’s greatest crisis?”

Basil’s expression tightened. “You are reading too much into the matter. I found it prudent to activate a more secure secondary command center. In the meantime, King Rory stays here in the Whisper Palace and is available for public appearances anytime he is needed.”

“So you consider the Whisper Palace to be perfectly safe, then?” Peter started to make a gesture with one hand to indicate the palace around them, but his sleeve brushed over a piece of the ornate silverware and knocked it off the table. Peter tried to catch it, but it fell to the floor, and the blunder diminished the seriousness of his question. OX bent to retrieve the offending implement.

Basil smiled at the clatter. “Are you nervous, Peter?”

“Just clumsy.” He made sure the imagers captured his self-deprecating smile; then he surprised the Chairman with a serious question. “I’d like to take this opportunity to officially request the release of Patrick Fitzpatrick and his wife. They are Confederation citizens.”

Basil looked as if he had swallowed something sticky and unpleasant. “They are accused of sedition, a very serious crime, especially during such an extreme emergency. The Hansa is not inclined to be lenient.”

“Yes, we saw how you dealt with former Chairman Maureen Fitzpatrick,” Estarra said.

Basil called for the music to begin.

When the main meal was over and coffees and sweet liqueurs were served, Peter sipped his coffee — ironically flavored with cardamom, Basil’s signature drink. The Chairman himself had accepted only ice water with a slice of lemon to drink.

At the opposite end of the table, Deputy Cain read a statement of gratitude for all the volunteer ships that had come to the aid of Earth. Cain so rarely spoke in public that Peter couldn’t understand why he, and not King Rory, had been chosen for such a duty. Then he saw that Basil wanted the audience to be distracted so that he could speak quietly with Peter. “And what exactly is your game? Bringing all your Confederation ships here — what are you really after, Peter? I’m keeping all EDF vessels on high alert in case you try something.”

Estarra made a disbelieving sound. “We came here tohelp, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

“Earth has suffered incalculable disaster, Basil,” Peter said. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

“What I’ve noticed is a full-fledged military fleet on my doorstep and a former King who has made it plain that he wants to remove me. It’s time for this nonsense to stop, for the good of the human race.”

“Nonsense?” Estarra asked in a low voice. “We have only offered assistance, while you have raided Roamer skymines, shipyards, and fuel depots. Are you trying to provoke us to war?”

He glared at the Queen like a teacher warning a difficult child. He glanced over to make sure that none of the imagers were close enough to pick up his words, then looked coldly at Peter. “Enough of your delusions of grandeur. Surrender your crown and dissolve your silly Confederation. The Hansa has guided humanity for three centuries. Now that we face the Klikiss and the faeros, and who knows what else, we must not be divided. I am the one most fit to guide us through this.”

“By what measure?” Peter was surprised the man could even say such a thing.

The Chairman’s expression darkened, predictably, when the conversation did not go his way. “Let me be perfectly clear. I have been a respected leader since well before you were born. It will be best for all concerned if you simply do as I say. If you force me to use my leverage, I will not hesitate — ”

Peter let out a bitter chuckle. “Leverage? Like your inept ploy with this young man? It’s a gesture of total desperation, and you know it.” He shook his head sadly and looked at the boy King. “I know who the Chairman wants me to think you are, Rory — or whatever your name is. You do bear a close resemblance to my little brother, but tonight you’ve said nothing to convince me that you’re really him.”

“I’ve made no claims of that whatsoever.” Rory lowered his gaze and looked away. “I’m not allowed to.”

The comment told Peter a great deal. Again, he studied the young man’s profile, his eyes, the shape of his nose, wondering if the features had been changed or enhanced. or if they were natural.

Basil’s eyes looked like twin thunderstorms, and Peter could see he was ready to explode. Down the table, Sarein was watching the exchange, and though she couldn’t hear their words, she looked extremely alarmed.