They nodded, very solemnly. It was, indeed, worth the gamble.

28

Ardan, standing behind and to one side of his Prince, looked from one to the other of the men in the doorway. His mind reeled. For a moment, he felt a return of that terrible disorientation that had plagued him before his recovery.

The man in the corridor stepped inside the room, followed by Cleery, the Maître of the Household, and Ekkles, Hanse Davion's aide-de-camp.

"There! That's the imposter. And even Sortek! We have caught both the prime conspirators at once," the newcomer said.

Hanse backed up several steps to stand beside Ardan. "It looks as if you were correct, all the way," he said quietly. Then, more loudly, "I'd like an explanation of this charade. Cleery, who admitted this man into my house?"

The Maître looked perturbed. "No one admitted this man to the Summer Palace. He emerged from the Prince's chambers and rang for assistance, after receiving an unexpected messenger just arrived by shuttle." The man's discomfort was obvious.

Ardan felt for him. Dressed exacdy alike, with the same bodies, faces, gestures, and voices, the pair could not have been distinguished by Hanse's own mother, if she had still been alive. Yet Ardan knew with his heart as well as his mind that the man at his side was his old friend. He needed no more proof than that.

"I have known the Prince since I was a boy," he said, with all the confidence he could muster. "This man is my old friend. I will vouch for that"

"You!" Ekkles snorted. "You, too, are a part of the plot!" he said. "It is well known with what bitterness you left New Avalon and our Prince. Now you appear from nowhere beside a man pretending to be Hanse Davion...The connection is obvious. Not only are you mentally unstable, but you are a traitor as well!" He turned to the guard beside the door. "Arrest these two!" he ordered.

Hanse, however, was not outwardly disturbed. "Let us consider this matter a bit further," he said calmly. "For example, there are affairs, secrets of state, of great importance for the future of the Federated Suns. I have in mind one, in particular. Can you tell me what it is?" he asked the man who was his double.

The other Hanse wrinkled his nose in a manner all too familiar to everyone in the room. "You presume to question me in my own house? But I will answer, if only to reassure my people. You can only mean the secret treaty between the Houses Davion and Steiner, which includes promises of mutual aid, as well as my betrothal to Archon-Designate Melissa Steiner. And how you came to know of it, I cannot imagine!"

Ardan cleared his throat. "What happened on the day Hanse and I almost drowned?" he asked. "Over twenty years ago, it was, on New Avalon. Can you tell me that?"

The false Hanse stared at him sorrowfully. "Ah, yes, that was a time when we were, indeed, almost brothers," he said. "Well do I remember that day...and the two fishermen who pulled us from the river, wet as frogs, and took us to your mother. She dried us out, scolded us well, and didn't inform my father." He laughed.

"However, those fishermen were not the chance-comers they seemed to be. It was from them that my father heard of the incident. It turned out that those two had been set there to guard my life, as I was the second in line for the throne. Does that satisfy you, who have returned to my house as a traitor and possibly a spy?"

Ardan refused to concede defeat. "What did you give me for my twelfth birthday?" he asked.

The other turned on his heel and walked to the window. He was jiggling the fob attached to his belt with Hanse's own nervous habit. Ardan felt sick.

"The warrant admitting you to the Battle School. And my promise to oversee as much of your training as I could possibly manage."

Ardan turned to look into the eyes of the real Hanse, who still stood beside him. There was deep shock and growing concern in those familiar gray eyes. Hanse was just now realizing what kind of trap had been sprung for him.

The young warrior had one last weapon. It was a slim hope, but he had to try it.

"And to whom did you say, 'The Starbird weeps inside'?" he asked the newcomer.

The man did not turn, did not answer, but his hand twitched jerkily at the fob. Hanse, however, gasped with astonishment. "Melissa! I said that to Melissa! How did you know?"

But the aide and the Maître were not convinced. "Arrest these men," Ekkles said once more to the guard beside the door.

The new Prince of Davion turned sharply. "You cannot drag them through the palace as they are. We can't have the servants babbling about seeing their ruler arrested and thrown into the detention cells beneath the house. And we certainly can't let it be known that Sortek is involved. That could be awkward, as he is a favorite of House Steiner.

"No, they must be concealed, disguised...You think of something!" he said to the aide. "I have other important matters that await me."

Ardan had donned full-dress uniform for his reunion with Hanse. That included a light laser pistol, a sidearm that was now in his hand as the guard approached.

"I don't really want to kill anyone, but I cannot allow you to arrest the Prince of Davion," he said. "Step aside. We are going out through that doorway."

The guard, the aide, and Cleery had no choice but to step aside, to stand with the man who was now, at least temporarily, the ruler of the Federated Suns. Ardan was sorely tempted to kill the imposter where he stood, but Hanse read the thought in him and shook his head.

Then they were outside the door. It could not be locked. The computer in the study gave those inside instant access to the entire complex, anyway. Forgetting dignity, the pair ran pell-mell down the corridor.

"Here!" panted Ardan, pulling Hanse aside into a niche containing a small fountain and green plants.

"You're going to try hiding me under a philodendron?" asked Hanse. He came into the shallow curve of the wall unwillingly and stood listening intently for sounds of pursuit.

Ardan didn't reply. He pushed aside the woven-reed tapestry covering the section of the wall from which the marble arm and hand poured water from a silver pitcher. A push sent the entire segment pivoting on some hidden central point, so that the pouring pitcher and the basin to catch the water moved aside as they slipped through a narrow crevice.

"Help me push it back," whispered Ardan. "The curtain will return, just as it was."

Hanse was muttering quiet curses under his breath, but he put his shoulder to the smooth side of the stone and lent his strength. The pivot moved back silently.

Now they stood in a narrow space barely wide enough for Hanse's powerful shoulders, which was lit dimly from above.

Ardan gestured upward to indicate the slit that evidendy went from this floor of the palace all the way to one of the skylights in the roof. "This is a ventilation duct. Lets the moisture from all that marble in the walls dry out...feel the breeze? It has slits into the outer air on several levels, and the marble behind the fountain is pierced to allow the freshness into the corridor."

Hanse looked stunned. He had lived in the Summer Palace almost every year since ascending to the throne. Before that, he had come here with his father on many occasions. Never had he suspected that behind the fountain alcoves in each floor of the house was what amounted to a secret passage.

"I never knew!" he said. His tone was rather wistful.