He did his best to make Hanse comfortable, holding the Prince's head on his lap, and laying his own robe over him for extra warmth. The two of them sat that way for hours, Ardan with eyes closed, his back propped against the damp stone wall. When Hanse mumbled something finally, and stirred as though trying to get up, Ardan restrained him. "Hanse, no...you must rest now and stay warm..."
"Ardan...you..." Hanse murmured. "They took me..." he said with great effort. "Cleery was there...and some others...doctors maybe...Gave me something...an injection..."
"Not now, Hanse," Ardan said. "Later...you can tell me later."
But Hanse was never able to remember anything more than that The guards came back for him frequendy now, and when they returned him hours, even days later, Hanse was usually so drugged or his mind so numbed from exhaustion that he might as well have been. Whatever they did while Hanse was semiconscious, it would take him several days to break out of the mental fog and confusion. Then the guards would come for him once more, and the whole cycle would begin again.
Huddled like an animal in the cavelike damp of the cell, Ardan could never be sure whether Hanse would come back or not. Though Hanse could never remember anything afterward, Ardan was sure their captors were interrogating him, using mental taps and drugs. In spite of the nicks he etched into the wall, Ardan had no idea whether it was day or night or how much time had passed since they had been led down into this dungeon and the horror of their uncertain fate. It was small comfort, but he was beginning to understand what was going on, at least
When he and Hanse had confronted the false Prince, what baffled Ardan was how the imposter could have known so many details about the past...tilings no one but he or Hanse could have known. The betrothal to Melissa, for instance, or the long-ago day when Hanse had almost drowned or the gift he had given the child Ardan one birthday. Now it was starting to make sense. For one thing, the imposter had not known about the starbird, which was a story that Melissa had told Ardan after he had been rescued from Liao hands. While he had lain delirious in that hospital on Stein's Folly, the Liao doctors must have been probing his brain with drugs and mental taps just as they were doing with Hanse now.
Ardan was sure that his captors were systematically probing Hanse Davion's mind for every last memory so that they could transfer it all to their puppet Hanse, and authenticate him beyond the shadow of a doubt. These men were as desperate as they were ambitious, and so Ardan was certain neither he nor Hanse would survive long once they had all they needed.
31
Sep found Jarlik alert but fuming at the delay in getting to the business at hand. "We have to know where Ardan is before we can spring him free or help him escape from Argyle," she said.
"If he's been captured, he's in the dungeon. And if he hasn't, hell be in our old hideaway in the woods. But I've already looked there, so it's the dungeons, Sep. And we can only get into those with 'Mechs. Ardan can sneak around the Summer Palace like a mouse, but I don't remember the architects' plans the way he does."
Ref, rejoining them, agreed with Jarlik's assessment. "There's no word of anyone being captured around the palace. Nothing out of the ordinary. The only person who was suspicious was Fani Lettik. Awhile back, she saw someone in the kitchen area who shouldn't have been there. The man told her he was a gardener investigating a defective grillwork behind the shrubbery. But when she asked the Maître if it had been reported to him, he denied it."
Ref looked at Sep, his eyebrow quirked. "And nobody else saw that man at all. When she described him, he sounded terribly fishy, too. Flat, greasy-looking hair. Very dark goggles that hid his eyes. A blue coverall, which was proper for a gardener. But she said he looked as if he had a swollen tooth. His face was lopsided."
"Ardan," said Sep. Jarlik nodded.
"Put something on his hair to change its look. Stuffed wadding in his jaws. Got hold of some goggles someplace to hide those amber eyes and those sharp cheekbones. No doubt about it. He got into the house. Then Hanse Davion changed his mind about staying his usual time on Argyle."
"I'll bet anything you name that Hanse and Ardan are down below the Palace, locked away in those barbaric dungeons old Lucien had built. Dammit!" Sep pounded her fist sofdy against her uniformed knee.
"Wait a minute, Sep. Think about it..." said Ref, who was sitting on a fallen tree trunk and gazing idly at the high canopy of leaves overhead. "Where's the problem? The Prince is gone, right? And he's taken most of the guard with him. All that's left around the Summer Palace in the off-season is a skeleton crew. I say we go in tonight and get them out"
Sep thought for a momenet, then grinned suddenly. "Good thinking, Ref. You're right...Tonight's the night. I've got the security codes to disarm the Palace defenses, for one thing, and the retinal scanners'll recognize me as head of the Guard. That'll get me and Jarlik past the automatic defenses easily enough. In the meantime, Ref, you'll go over to the old fuel depot. I bet there are still enough combustibles lying around there for you to set off quite a big bang. And while you're over there drawing off most of the Palace Guards by making as much noise as possible, Jarlik and I will spring Hanse and Ardan from the Palace."
Jarlik chuckled deep in his throat. "Any 'Mech who doesn't get diverted will wish he had."
Sep nodded. "But what about getting into the lower level, where the access corridor is?" she asked the big man. "I've never been on personal duty for the Prince. I usually pulled shifts at training the Guard, not at guarding the Royal residence."
"Well, I've learned a lot of the ins and outs from working with Ardan so long. Back in the service area, there is a cul-de-sac serving the doors to the laundry rooms, the kitchens, the catering services, and the butler's pantry. At night, it's deserted down there." After sweeping aside dead leaves to clear a space, Jarlik sketched a rough diagram in the dust.
"There's the service floor. Here's the corridor that gives access to the lower level where the dungeons are. There"— he sketched a rapid series of crossbars—"are the ventilators. Even prisoners have to breathe. We can batter through those easily. I see no problem, unless some hotshot 'Mech guard tries to liven things up."
It seemed to take a year for the sun to set. The forest rustled and whispered about them. From time to time, some small animal peered from branches above or from the snakelike roots of one of the big trees, but the trio sat so quietly that the creatures soon lost interest and went about their own business.
When the sky was black and the treetops lost against the starry expanse, the three mounted their 'Mechs. Ref headed for the fuel depot, while Sep and Jarlik moved across the vineyards and men the public gardens that stood just outside the Palace walls. As expected, the two passed through the automatic defenses with no problem.
"Well, getting in was easy," Sep said into her com, "but getting out could be another problem entirely. Denek gave me access to the emergency DropShip, but who knows how we'll get to it. Much less how we contact the pilot he suggested. This may be our last burst of glory, old friend. Let's make it count!"
They strode closer to the Palace, which was dark except for a few glimmers of light from windows in the servants' wing. That startled Sep until she realized that she had always seen the Summer Palace ablaze with the lights and activity that swirled around the Prince, with all the comings and goings that attended his affairs of state, visitors, and minions. Now those same tiers of rooms stood in darkness.
Just then, an explosion boomed to the east of them, and a huge fireball rose into the night sky.
"Looks good," said Sep, and she heard Jarlik's grunt of agreement, as they halted at the edge of the courtyard that led up to the Palace. Standing in the shadows, they waited, hoping most of the guard 'Mechs had gone to investigate the explosion, according to plan.
Though they had no way of knowing, the fact that everything was so quiet close to the Palace seemed a good sign. "Looks like we're home free," Sep said, "but let's wait another minute. I don't see anything, do you?"
&nbs
p; "Coast is clear," Jarlik replied.
"All right, let's move while we've got the chancel" she said, and the two began striding forward on the giant legs of their 'Mechs. At that moment, something caught Sep's eye to their right...something coming around the western flank of the Palace. It was a Wasp on patrol. She was about to warn Jarlik, when she heard the Wasp pilot sounding an alarm over the general frequency.
"Halt and identify yourselves!" the Wasp challenged, as Sep and Jarlik continued moving forward. The guard then lifted its right arm in an accusatory gesture that spat fire from its medium laser.
"Hostiles on Palace grounds. Engaging!" they heard him report frantically over the crackle of the general frequency. The two heavy 'Mechs dodged, and the shot missed.
"Concentrate fire!" Sep yelled into the com. "Right leg! Give him everything you've got." The combined fire from their lasers, autocannon, and SRMs was deafening, almost blinding. Then they saw the Wasp fall to the ground, its right leg totally disintegrated. The huge machine was now effectively out of commision.
"One down," said Sep, "but he's put out the warning now, and it won't be long before the rest of them show up. We better get done with this now!"
They sped down the deserted walks toward the palace. With the main Guard gone, very few troops lived in the barracks. It was more economical to have the entire staff living in the big house, which had to be heated and cooled, whether tenanted or not.
No one challenged them until they came abreast of the kitchen wing.
"What is going on here?" came the cry.
Sep groaned. Fani Lettik had a habit of showing up when she was least wanted. Confronted with the two giant forms of a WarHammer and a Crusader, however, Fani froze in her tracks, an expression of terror on her face. As Sep and Ref continued to lumber forward, Fani let out a scream, then turned and ran. It was the first time Sep had ever seen Fani intimidated, and it had taken two heavy 'Mechs to do it.
Rounding the corner, the two 'Mechs stalked on into the cul-de-sac, which was just where Jarlik had said it would be. Sep kept watch as Jarlik set one of his armored feet against the ventilation grid. It, too, was solid stone. With a mighty swing, he kicked forcefully and struck the rock with a resounding crash. There was the rattle of stone chips falling away into the darkness below.
Again Jarlik kicked. More stone fell, and a gap opened in the grill. Sep chanced a flash of light from her torch. The wall was beginning to give, sure enough.
She aimed her laser and gave the spot a long blast. Hissing and spitting, the beam melted the rock into taffylike puddles that dripped down the sides of the hole. Another blast, and the hole caved in bodily, leaving a huge pit in the paving that floored the niche.
"I'll go," she said to Jarlik. "You just keep anyone from coming in after me."
Sep dismounted, leaving her WarHammer ready for instant use when she returned. The stone was still hot, and she had to wait for a moment before she could spring down into the blackness below. But lights were coming on inside the house now. Voices cried out. They would have company long before she was ready for it.
She dropped through the hole and rolled with practiced ease, coming upright in darkness. Hitting the switch of her belt light, she looked about. It was a nasty sort of place, damp and chilly, and seemed to be a warren of tunnels and cells. She ran along toward the interior of the block. "Ardan!" she shouted.
There was a moment of silence. Then, muffled with stone and distance, came a welcome reply.
"Sep? By God! Sep!"
She homed on the sound and ran, watching closely as she set her feet If she tripped and knocked herself out, it wouldn't help any of them. Rats scuttered away in front of her, and she could hear their cluttering behind her. Her skin crawled.
"Ardan!" she called again, pausing at a three-way corner.
"Here!" His voice was nearer now. Down the right angle. As she rounded the bend, she could see a guttering torch in a socket on the wall. Before a door halfway down the rank stood a water can and a mess tray.
She pounded up to the door. There was a metal rod slipped through loops, holding it closed. In addition, the inset lock looked formidable.
"Stand back!" she yelled.
There came a grunt from inside that she took for assent. She aimed her sidearm laser and melted the lock out of its metal housing. As she kicked the rod back with a booted foot, the door swung open.
Two bearded faces blinked at her in the brilliant light of her torch. She saw at once that their eyes weren't accustomed to light, and so she quickly killed the beam. The torchlight seemed terribly dim by contrast.
Hanse and Ardan looked terrible. She stepped back and looked down at the rations outside the door. Moldy food, slimy-looking water. Untouched.
"They were starving you?" she asked, her tone furious.
"Trying to soften us up. Do you have any clean water? That dirty stuff is all they gave us, and precious little of that," Ardan croaked.
Sep reached for her hip canteen. No pilot ever mounted his 'Mech without a supply of rations, no matter how tame the occasion. She had on her uniform, because of the special nature of the mission, and so its hip flask was ready to hand.
"Here. But drink slowly. First rule in the Survival Manual."
While they talked, a clatter sounded in the distance. Footsteps on stone...They'd better get out fast.
"This way," she said. "We made a new door into your dungeons, Your Highness. I hope you don't mind."
Hanse grinned, his lips cracking. "Lead on," he told her.
They came to the hole well ahead of their pursuers. Jarlik had his hatch open, listening for them. Reaching his armored limb down into the hole, he lifted up first Hanse, then the other two.
Sep mounted her 'Mech. Ardan climbed into the tight cockpit behind her. Hanse had already done the same in Jarlik's.
"Better run. There's armor coming," Jarlik said over the com.
The metal feet of their 'Mechs pounded across the paved terraces, the grassy spaces, the flower beds and borders. When they came to the wall, Sep blasted a portion of it down, and then she and Jarlik hammered through the debris without slowing their strides.
Through her scanners, Sep could see that the Summer Palace was abuzz with activity. Lights were on all over the residence, and red bursts of laser fire spat against the night She suspected that the guard 'Mechs were mistakenly attacking each other. That was fine. Nobody had followed their rescue team, and their tracks wouldn't be immediately obvious until it got light.
She tore along beside Jarlik, heading for the port, where they were to rendezvous with Ref. If they were lucky, nobody would suspect it to be their destination until it was too late. Then she had a terrible thought.
"We haven't got our pilot!" she yelled into the com.
There was no answer for a moment, then she heard Jarlik's familiar gruff tone over the com.
"Never mind that," he said. "His Highness says he can pilot the thing. Just get him there in one piece!"
32
Katrina Steiner was no fool. As soon as her ambassador got word to her of his strange interview with Hanse Davion at the Summer Palace on Argyle, she put two and two together with computer-like speed. Then she called her daughter to her side.
"It looks as if you were right all along, Melissa. The Prince of the Federated Suns has just informed our ambassador that he is withdrawing from any treaties now in existence between our worlds, including the one signed on Sol several years ago. That man may have looked, talked, and walked like the real Hanse Davion, but he must have been the double Ardan saw all those months ago."
Melissa turned pale. "And Hanse? What of him?"
"All we know is that the Prince has left Argyle for New Avalon, which he has never done before at this time of year. That means that the real Prince is probably still on-planet."
"Mother, we must send help!" Melissa was regaining her color, and her chin was coming up into its fighting position.
"Not to Argyle. I have great
faith in young Sortek. If he went to Argyle, he's smart enough to have the necessary back-up to do what he came for. By the time we got anyone into position there, it would be too late, given the many weeks of recharge it would require. But I do intend to send help...to New Avalon."
"New Avalon?" Melissa's tone was doubtful.
Her mother sat and drew her daughter beside her on the low couch. "If Ardan has found Hanse and freed him, they will follow the imposter back to the capital. I do not doubt that at all."
"But it's so chancy!" objected the girl.
"That is true," her mother agreed, "but Ardan and Hanse are two most ingenious and determined men. They have, as well, devoted friends in positions to help them. I am going to move on faith alone. If they have failed, we will be in no worse position. If they have not, our ambassador will be in position to force the issue and to give the real Hanse the backing he must have to regain his throne. Ambassador Efflinger is now on New Avalon. I can get word to him via ComStar in a few weeks. We must hope that it will be in time."
"But what will you instruct him to do?" Melissa was looking impatient and confused, both at once.
"To keep a sharp watch through all his information networks for any hint of a "Pretender' to the rulership of the Federated Suns. And if such a Pretender comes to light, to make certain he has the opportunity to confront the man now on the throne. To insist on exhaustive testing for both, using all the authority of House Steiner's position among the systems." Katrina wrinkled her forehead.
"We can only hope that it will be enough. In the meanwhile, I am fortifying those garrisons that might be vulnerable to attack from that direction. If all our efforts fail, we will soon be at war with our best ally."
Turning to her computer console at the small table beside her desk, Katrina tapped in the message for her assigned Adept to transmit.
Melissa stood at the window, watching the sun set over the ragged heights beyond the palace walls. Now the only snow was atop the tallest peaks in the distance. She wished for a moment that Ardan were still safely on Tharkad. He was her good friend, after all. Then she remembered Hanse...possibly a prisoner, or worse. Something between shyness and fierce protectiveness gripped her.
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