They moved as silently as possible through the water until a splotch of deeper darkness loomed beside them. The tunnel mouth.

They carefully removed the grating that covered it, using the special wrenches that Rem had thought to provide for the purpose. The flow of water was shallow, once they were inside. Their rad-counters began to click faster, as they made their way up the vaulted conduit

They used little light. There was only Rem's glimmer, which provided just enough to keep them from bumping into walls when the tunnel curved.

When they reached the shield-wall from which the main artery drained, they were faced with another grating. It, too, yielded to the wrenches. This time, they were so careful that almost no sound accompanied their work.

Then they were in the lower tier of the building. Hamman, having memorized the maps, turned to his right and climbed to a catwalk. Now was the time when luck would be with them...or not. He could only hope.

18

Ardan had somehow managed to get back into his bed before passing out. Now he began to move again, trying to speak, and a hand touched his face. A muffled voice spoke to someone outside his doorway. He strained to hear, but the sound was too garbled to make sense.

He recalled something...a solid fact that he knew he could trust. He hadseen the medications. They hadbeen marked with the Liao insignia. So he was in the hands of the enemy.

He stopped trying to speak, to warn those around him about the duplicate Hanse he had seen. His memory of wandering through the building was becoming dim and unreal to him, but the recollection of that blank face in the cubicle was sharp and clear.

A hand shook his shoulder. The voice outside the door became clearer. "Did he see?"

See what? wondered Ardan, as he joggled limply under the moving hand. He didn't want to come back to full consciousness now. He was too groggy...and he had too many questions waiting for him. He drifted deeper...

Then there was a noise outside. Not a voice. A thud. The crackle of a hand weapon. A scream that was cut off in the middle. The hand was gone. The room seemed empty, except for himself.

With a tremendous effort, he opened his eyes. They felt gummy, sticky, unfocused. He saw shapes in pale suits covering them from head to foot. Two were pushing into the room. He tried to move, to sit. One of the shapes whipped off the head-covering.

"Lees!" he whispered. "How?...Where?"

"Not now. Here, let's get you into that coverall hanging in that cupboard over there. Don't try to help me. I can see that you're out of it. Rem, you take his other side. O.K., Ardan? We're leaving now." The voice paused, and the two men lifted Ardan and bore him away down the corridor he had seen once before.

Even as they covered the distance to the double doors at the end, he drifted into and out of consciousness. They burst through the doors and pounded down stairs just beyond.

Ardan gritted his teeth, coming back to himself. The pain had cut through his disorientation for a moment. His arm twinged sharply as his weight shifted.

"It won't be too long," grunted Lees. There was a crackle as a weapon discharged, and the three came to the floor of another corridor.

"O.K." That was an unfamiliar voice. "We've cleared our run to the main entrance. There's just about no staff or guard left here. This is spooky."

"Now!" That was Rem.

Ardan was pulled upright again and swung along swiftly, his toes dragging. He couldn't make his legs move properly, and so he just relaxed and let the other two men do all the work. He hoped they knew what they were doing.

Flashes from side passages told him that there was at least some resistance left in the complex, but they shot past too quickly for him to know what was being done about itThen they were outside.

It was raining. He was soaked through instantly, which made him sneeze so hard it shook both his bearers.

"We'd better get him into shelter fast. He could get pneumonia awfully easy," said Rem.

"We've located the ground vehicles they've been leaving behind," came a voice. "Over here. We've found a troop carrier that should take us all. Just hope that it's powered up and ready to go."

After some jostling and tugging, Ardan found himself lying flat on a hard surface. Men were tumbling in around him haphazardly. There was the sound of power and a vibration of the surface on which he lay. Then motion.

He cried out, "Hanse! Why?"

Lees reached down to touch his face. "Fever," his voice said. "Cas, you have the medkit?"

There was the familiar touch of a spray-shot on his arm. Then he went into a blackness as deep as that of the swamp.

* * * *

The messenger always hurried when he came into the room. Hanse supposed it was to impress him with the urgency of the news he carried, as well as the devotion of the man to his duty. It always irritated him.

"Well?"

"The mopping-up on Stein's Folly is complete. The last of the Liao forces have retreated to Redfield. Our casualties have been heavy, but not as heavy as we had originally expected. And your friend Ardan Sortek has been recovered from a hospital unit in the base used by Ridzik while on the planet"

Hanse felt relief surge through him. The tightness that had seemed to bind his heart so painfully now eased. He had dreaded other, worse news of his friend.

"I want a detailed report of his injuries and his present condition. The unit caring for him. Everything."

The messenger obeyed his gesture to sit. Hanse made himself settle into the deep chair behind his desk. He quieted his hands, breathed deeply, and concentrated on the words of his messenger. With his learned discipline, he would not forget a syllable that he heard.

"Ardan Sortek," said the messenger, going into his automatic-report mode, his voice sounding almost mechanical, "has suffered recent dehydration, starvation, broken left radius, badly stressed ligaments, right leg. Surface bruises, cuts, scratches, fungal infections." He paused for breath.

"Systemic infection, probably from contaminated food or water ingested. Mental disorientation is persistent characterized by repeated reference to injured child, to unusual fauna in the swamp on the world in question, and to some sort of doppleganger complex he has developed."

"Doppleganger? Doesn't that mean ghostly double..." Hanse said thoughtfully. "That is a symptom of mental derangement, is it not?"

"It can be, the MedTechs say. This is very deeply impressed upon his mind. He keeps linking it, strangely enough, with the Prince of Davion."

"Strange," said Hanse. "I have known that Ardan was not completely comfortable with many matters, but I hadn't thought it to be serious."

"The medical people are most concerned about his mental state. Their facilities are focused upon battlefield casualties, and they haven't the psychiatric staffing to deal with this sort of problem in the most effective manner. They suggest intensive care as soon as possible."

Hanse motioned for the man to pause, while he thought carefully. There were things Ardan knew concerning his own affairs that were best undisclosed, even to the most faithful MedTechs. If Ardan were seriously unbalanced in his mind, it was perhaps best to keep him away from New Avalon for the time being. The Court on New Avalon was rife with spies and informers, he knew, and Ardan could seriously compromise many affairs of state if he were to speak of them while not in his right mind. Hanse considered distances, facilities...and he had an idea.