It was possible to land 'Mechs on Kali undetected. With the satellite out of commission, the radar coverage for this quadrant was the manual set at Warex. If someone switched off the proximity alarm and then created a distraction at the right moment. .. He hated to think that there could be a traitor among his own men. Yet it could only have been someone from the base who had slipped that note under his door.

Nearly convinced by now that it was a trap, Tormana switched on his radio to ask for a flyover of the rendezvous point. Then he changed his mind. Better to move back another kilometer or so, climb to high ground, and send out a tight beam.

Palming the joystick, he swiveled the Vindicator-Only it didn't move.

‘Damn,’ he growled, thumping the underside of the control panel with his fist Then he tried it again.

The Vindicatorstood like a black statue, wind moaning across its armor.

He knew the motor was running, for he could feel the vibration. He disengaged the controls, moved them all through their full range, reengaged them, and tried to lift the 'Mech's right foot It remained planted.

‘Bloody narcoleptic antique,’ he said In a level tone.

A shadow fell across the viewport. He looked up just as the face of another Vindicatorclicked into contact with his own. Seen through the dust on both ports, the other pilot was only a Humanoid silhouette.

‘There's nothing wrong with your machine,’ came a hollow voice, conducted through the plexisteel. ‘I've switched off your manual systems.’

‘Who the hell are you?’

‘I have to kill you. but not until we talk.’

‘Oh?’ Getting no response from the Vindicator'sweapons. Tormana reached casually behind his seat for his hand laser. ‘You speak pretty good Liao, for a Davion man. What've you done to my 'Mech?’

‘It's not what I did, so much as what Sheila Po did. All I had to do was get close to you and flip a switch. But ever since you left the base. I've had a hell of a time trying to get close. That is, until you so kindly stopped here for a nap in the shade.’

‘You followed me from Warex?’ All the Vindicatorpilots at the base were Tormana's personal friends. Except for the one newcomer from Hsien. ‘Maclean?’

‘MacLean is here, but he's dead. He and his BattleMech are going to have an unfortunate accident’

Tormana knew that if he fired his laser through the pot, it would take ten or twelve seconds to melt through two layers of plexisteel. Time enough for the other man to do something about it. So he waited fora better chance. ‘If you're not MacLean, then how can you operate his 'Mech? Or is it his? I can't see it very well.’

‘It's his. But it was reprogrammed on Hsien to respond to my code as well as MacLean's. The same with your machine, while you were gone. I could get in it right now and walk it away.’

‘Who are you?’

The other man was silent for a moment. ‘When you have someone at your mercy, Tormana, and you're going to kill him—do you toy with him first?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then I won't, either. I'll tell you straight out. Who I used to be doesn't matter. Your father wants a son like himself, a useful son, a son who thinks like a Liao. So with the help of a lot of doctors, he made me into that son. From this day forward, my name is—Tormana Liao.’

‘You're insane!’ Throwing off his safety straps, Tormana hurled himself at the viewport, slamming his fist against it. ‘MacLean, you need help! Release my 'Mech, and I won't hurt you.’

‘Sorry, my friend, it's Maximilian who's crazy. Me, I'm just ambitious. With your identity, I can bring back the glory days ot the Confederation. Meanwhile, I've got plans for Bandora. Or didn't you know your father intends to give—his son—a Dukedom there?’

Tormana dropped back into his seat. He felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper. ‘But he's my father. I'm his son. This can't be happening.’

There was no reply from the other' Mech.

‘Till this day,’ Tormana said. ‘I never knew him. He is a monster. A reptile that eats its own young.’ Pulling off his neurohelmet, the MechWarrior ran his hands through his tousled hair and touched his face as though assuring himself that he was awake. Then he stopped and frowned. ‘I suppose there aren't really any 'Mechs in the old mine up ahead there.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Then you don't know.’ Tormana thought for a moment ‘About a kilometer north of here, in an abandoned mine. I think there are some enemy MechWarriors. They're probably planning to sneak up on the base.’

The other man laughed. Even distorted by the plexlsteel. it was a familiar laugh. Tormana's own laugh. ‘You're stalling for time. I find myself reluctant to get on with this, but l promised not to play cat-and-mouse games. Good journey, Tormana.’ The other 'Mech's face pulled away from Tormana's viewport In its place, a huge steel hand clanged down, shutting out the twilight The canopy locks groaned as the hand began to lift up the hatch. Cold, sulfurous air hissed through the seal. Gagging, Tormana jammed his helmet onto his head, pulled down the faceplate, and twisted the oxygen valve.

From the static of the radio, a crackly voice emerged. ‘I don't think he fell for it Bent When are we gonna sack the base? Oops! Jeez, sorry, I—’ The voice broke off. leaving only static.

The transmission had come from close by, and it was in English. They both heard it The attacking Mech froze. Tormana sank back with a gasp, then sealed his helmet and scrambled for his survival gear.

He felt the cockpit shudder as the gray Vindicatorreleased its grip. It turned and walked up the canyon. Now he could see its gray camouflage pattern, reminiscent of a dappled horse. It was MacLean's 'Mech.

Then he turned his attention to staying alive. The radio transmitter, as he'd feared, was dead. The hatch, bent out of shape by the gray Mech's hand, was jammed shut.

The imposter had boasted that he could get into this machine and walk away with it. If so, any damage to Tormana's controls must be reversible. Seizing his tool kit from a side compartment he unscrewed the plates under the panel, looking for anything obviously wrong. As-night fell, he took a flashlight from the box, and taped it to make a pencil-thin beam. No point in advertising what he was doing in here.

Tormana was intensely curious about the man his father had selected as the ideal son All his life, he had utterly failed to please his father. Marrying Hanya was just one of a long string of choices that had somehow disappointed or offended Maximilian. Finally realizing that he could never please the old man, Tormana had quit trying. Yet the question of what Maximilian wanted from him still nagged at the fringes of his mind. And here was the answer in flesh and blood. Mixed with his outrage and the need to kill. Tormana felt a desire to talk a little longer with this man. Not that he was likely to get the chance Shaking his head at his own folly, he went on probing gingerly through the tangled wires inside the control panel.

He'd found nothing to fix when the duplicate's Vindicatorcame striding back down the canyon, headlights sweeping the tumbled black stones. Its interior was dark, like his. It walked up to his paralyzed machine, touched face to face, and the man inside said, ‘There are 21 'Mechs up there. Enough to take the battalion if they catch it sleeping. They wear the insignia of the Crucis Lancers.’

‘No. Davion wouldn't use the Lancers for an assassination. I think these are Sharp's Stompers. They're disguised for some reason.’

‘Of course they are. I'm just telling you what I saw. Most of their 'Mechs are lightweights, faster than yours or mine. They've given up waiting for you and they're headed for Warex Base. I climbed to high ground and tried to tight-beam a warning, but I can't raise the base. It could be the radiation out here, or their receiver could be sabotaged. You know the planet better than I do. Got any suggestions?’