Ajax gaped blankly and fumbled helplessly, trying to think of something to say. The situation seemed mad, impossible, nightmarish.
“But, Wuj” he stammered, “I am your monarch! I am Ajax Calkins! Don’t you recognize your beloved leader?”
The furry snout wrinkled in a disbelieving smile.
“Despite the resemblance, which is, as I have already stated, impressively realistic, sir, I know this to be an untruth. For both King Ajax and his consort-to-be, Miss Emily Hackenschmidt, are still here on Ajaxia … they are, in fact, right in the next room.”
While the stunned Ajax groped feebly for a rejoinder to this startling item of information, Emily pushed him from the instrument and addressed the Wuj herself.
“Wuj! This is Emily… We demand to see the truth of your words for ourselves.”
The Wuj shrugged politely—a rather interesting sight, since he had eight shoulders to shrug—and did something to the controls at his end. The screen blanked momentarily, then cleared, showing a view of one of the other rooms which Ajax and Emily recognized as a storeroom currently housing some of the more interesting and advanced mechanisms of the Asteroidal trove. There, busily taking inventory were—themselves! Two exact likenesses of Emily and Ajax, complete to the smallest, most insignificant detail, with calm, impassive faces were rifling through the scientific treasures of Ajaxia!
“Having seen for yourselves,” the squeaky voice of the Wuj said, “you will I hope realize the futility of continuing your hoax. Farewell, and be warned that any further attempts to impersonate the royal Ajax will be met by the sternest rigors of Ajaxian law.”
The spiderman hung up.
White-faced, Emily and Ajax stared at each other.
“I told you so,” said Emily. Ajax groaned.
V
There was no time to be lost. Something would have to be done, and quickly. But Ajax found himself unable to act, to think, even to move, he collapsed limply into the nearest chair and stared feebly at Emily.
“Of course, you realize what is going on,” she said in her most brisk and businesslike tone.
“Of course,” he echoed hollowly.
“You noticed the impassive, expressionless faces on our duplicates? And the jerky, stiff way they moved their arms and legs?”
“Quite.”
“Saturnians! In plastic, mechanical suits. Just like the ones Anton Smallways and the other imitation miners wore. Only, these are modeled on you and me!”
“Right…”
She walked over to him and snapped her fingers in front of his face.
“Come on, Ajax, snap out of it! We’ve got to do something. I don’t know what, but—something.”
“Yes-yes,” he agreed.
“Stop moping about as if the Nine Worlds had just fallen apart beneath your feet! I warned you that the flacking Amoeba-Men might seize the opportunity to make a move against Ajaxia. I told you we shouldn’t both have come to Earth, leaving the Wuj alone to cope with the Saturnian problem…”
He shot her a look of annoyance.
“Miss Hackenbush, let me point out to you that I am not, regardless of your self-evident opinion of me, stupid. I foresaw just such an eventuality. My royal mind keenly projected the range of possibilities, and took certain precautions. That’s what has got me flabbergasted!”
“What precautions? Ajax, what are you talking about?”
“When I left, I arranged a recognition-code with the Wuj, just on the chance that the Saturnians might try to get in by some pretense or pretext. I told the Wuj that when I called him, my very first words would be ‘Heigh-Ho!’ “
“Oh, so that’s why you winked and gave me that weird grin when you first spoke to the Wuj…*
“Quite. But, taking the recog-code into consideration, I don’t see how any impostors could have gotten past the Wuj and into Ajaxia without using the code—which they couldn’t have known anything about.”
Emily set her small jaw grimly. “Well, we’ll worry about that later, Ajax. Right now, the Saturnians are on Ajaxia and if we don’t do something to stop them, they’ll make off with the loot and leave you holding the royal bag!”
“The bag? What do you mean?”
“Really, Ajax! Hasn’t it percolated through your armor-plated skull yet? EMSA recognition of you as monarch of Ajaxia depends entirely on your agreement to hand over that junkheap of prehistoric gadgets—intact.”
“Oh-oh…” He was appalled. The full import of the Saturnian impersonation of himself had not yet sunk in. Now it did, and he felt as if the floor had just dropped out from under him.
“Exactly! EMSA would rather not have to recognize another independent planetary state—and if you show up with empty hands and some story about Saturnian pirates having made off with everything, they will be delighted to seize the opportunity to cancel their official recognition of the Kingdom of Ajaxia, to tear up the treaty and forget the whole mess!”
“Great Scott!”
Galvanized, Ajax sprang from the chair and palmed the radio-sensitive globe, summoning Jenkins.
As soon as the placid face of the robutler appeared in the doorway, Ajax burst into a flurry of activity.
“Jenkins! Pack my things, and collect Miss Hackenschmidt’s luggage instantly! Call the launching complex and have the Destiny II prepared for take-off immediately. We will be departing for Ajaxia just as soon as the ship can be made ready… oh, and get the commandant of EMSA’s Ceres station on the ‘phone for me.”
“Yes sir. Immediately, sir. By the way, sir, there’s something on the video now that might interest you—a news broadcast from Radio Vesta about Ajaxia.”
“What? Turn it on, quick!”
Jenkins opened an ornate cabinet of pseudo Victorian chinoiserie, revealing a commercial video set. Within a moment they were listening with shocked, unbelieving ears to an interview with King Ajax of Ajaxia. The imitation Ajax spoke in a most convincing replica of Calkins’ own voice, and he looked—even in video close-up—amazingly like Ajax. Emily Hackenschmidt, or a simulacrum suitably garbed in ambassadorial costume, stood behind the phony monarch as he made public warning to other planetary governments and military installations to beware of criminals currently impersonating the King of Ajaxia and the EMSA Ambassadress to the planetoid. Also present was the military commander of EMSA forces in the Asteroid Zone, Vice Admiral Milton A. Kreplach, who firmly voiced EMSA’s intention to be on the lookout for such impostors, who would, he vowed, be prosecuted to the full extent of interplanetary law, whenever found.
Ajax switched off the video, and sighed. “Ahh… Jenkins, cancel that call to the EMSA commandant…”
“Yes, sir,” said the robutler imperturbably.
Destiny II sped through space, bearing a despondent Ajax and a silent Emily Hackenschmidt. For the past hour or two since take-off, they had been hashing over the incredible predicament they had somehow gotten into. Thus far, no tenable solution had occurred to them. Ajax’s plan to seize the defenseless planetoid-ship with the aid of EMSA was made a hollow mockery by the swift action of the pseudo-Ajax in announcing the existence of his “impersonator.” The quickest way to wind up in Deimos Prison, would be for Ajax to call Admiral Kreplach for assistance in capturing Ajaxia. Kreplach would have a hearty laugh over Ajax’s claim that two Saturnian amoebas were currently in charge of the planetoid-ship, and would pop the disconsolate monarch and his feminine accomplice into jail so quickly that they would register a Doppler effect.