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.
"You didn't have to design a defense for the house. We did. The architect's records are in the computer, ready to be called up at any time. But the only ones likely to do that are those charged with your personal safety."
"Where does this come out?" Hanse asked quietly.
Ardan turned to follow the cranny out of the dimly lit portion into blackness. "In the wall above the kitchen wing. We'll have to wait for darkness before we try scaling the wall to the roof."
Hanse's eyes lit up. On the roof was, of course, his personal air car. With it, they could be away before the imposter and his crew could finish searching this tremendous and complex structure.
They crept like mice through winding, impossibly narrow spaces. Ardan's impressive uniform acquired a coating of dust and cobweb that added nothing to its appearance. Hanse, attired in plain clothing for work in his study, fared a bit better. Brown woven stuff showed the deposits of debris far less than did the buff and gold, slashed with scarlet, that Ardan wore.
From time to time, Ardan paused. Lateral spaces crossed their path, even narrower than the one they followed. More than once, one of those ran away at an oblique angle, and Ardan had to recall to mind the plans he had committed to memory years before.
"What are those?" asked Hanse at last, indicating one of the dark tunnels.
"They go between the walls. Keeps the walls from sweating and rotting the paneling and tapestries on the inside. Stone is terrifically sweaty stuff, particularly in such a humid climate," Ardan whispered.
Hanse seemed unsettled by this warren of passages between the walls of his summer home. "Why, anyone who knows the plan could slip into the place at will," he murmured.
Ardan glanced back over his shoulder. Hanse's bulk was a deeper black against the darkness.
"They could...but I know where the traps are that keep them from succeeding. We've passed three, so far. Another is just ahead. Want me to point it out?"
"It wouldn't do any good. How could I see it?"
Ardan chuckled quietly. A few more paces and he paused to take Hanse's hand. "Feel, as I hold back the trigger," he said.