Part 15

Guy knew that violence would result in only one answer--he'd be taken horizontal instead of vertical, and resistance would show Thomakein that he meant harm. There was still the partly-finished thought-beam receiver in his room--

"Where is he?" asked Guy.

"Come," said the first Ertinian. He led the way for several yards, and then fell back as the other Ertinian came up to walk on the opposite side of Guy. Guy felt like a prisoner making his Last Mile.

"Look, boys, I'm really not Elanane."

"We know you aren't," laughed the first one. "What name are you using this time?"

"Gomanar."

"Not too good," laughed the one on Guy's left. "You did better as Inualdi the last time."

"You'll excuse us," smiled the first, "if we treat this matter lightly. You know us and we know you. Furthermore, we know you know us and you know we know it. We'd like to follow your wishes, Elanane, but we cannot think of you as anything other than Lanee Elanane. May we have your forgiveness?"

Guy smiled, nodded, and gave up. To himself he admitted that he was licked. Whatever his next move was, it was out of the question now. It must be a spur-of-the-moment plan, Guy thought, and he decided to bluff it out as long as he could. He'd try valiantly, for if Ertene failed him, he was a man without a planet.

He reminded himself that he had one ace in the hole. The partly-finished thought-beam instrument. If they questioned his motives, he could ask permission to finish that and let them see for themselves that his interest was only in saving Ertene.

With the eyes of his captors on his back, Guy strode across the cabin of the luxurious flier and without hesitation opened the door, stepping into the inner compartment.

He had little hope that he would be able to fool Thomakein, but he must try.

The door swung shut behind him, and as it slammed, the flier lifted into the sky, effectively cutting Guy's retreat completely.

* * * * *

"Come in--sit down," greeted the Ertinian.

"You seem to have been expecting me?"

"Yes--but we knew you'd show up sooner or later. Had things become acute, I think we might have made an open appeal. But you are in time."

"Anything urgent?"

"The Terran, Guy Maynard, ah--talked open!"

"Uh ... he--What?"

Guy blinked. It was too close to home not to stagger him. This was one place where he'd be forced into carefulness. He'd have to watch his step. Discussing himself as a third party was more than likely to bring out too many things that he, as Elanane, could not possibly know. If he were to fool Thomakein--and it looked all right at this point--he'd have to submerge himself in Elanane's unknown personality, and use Elanane's unknown knowledge. That could be done by permitting Thomakein to do all the talking. Well, he'd permit Thomakein to talk continually.

And then it filtered into Guy's dazed mind that the last words had been spoken in Terran. The term "Talked open" was a Terran idiom--and--

_It had been expressed in Terran!_

"You seem surprised, Elanane. I'm amused. Really, I'm sorry that the shock should come to you this way, Guy, but you have lost all resemblance to Elanane in the last few minutes. Guy, don't you recognize me?"

Guy stood open-jawed and stared at the Ertinian. Slowly, uncertainly, Guy shook his head in negation.

"I suppose that surroundings and dress do have a lot to do with recognition. That plus the fact that you never expected to see me here on Ertene. I am in strange dress, in an impossible place, and you do not know me. At your expense, Guy, I'm amused." Thomakein went into a deep laugh.

Guy was irritated, but he said nothing. He was still dazed. "Thomakein--Thomas Kane!" he said after a full ten minutes had passed.

"Fine! So you do recognize me? Shake, Guy. If I'd not known your intent, I wouldn't know you either in that Ertinian get-up."

"But ... but--?"

"There's one thing you'll need, Guy. Your face shows the effect of so much daily shaving. We'll have you whisker-free in three days, Guy, using a permanent depilatory often used by some of us who are unlucky enough to retain a few facial hairs. Then you can go on without worrying."

"But--?"

"Forget everything for the moment, Guy. I want the answer to one question. Will you swear that your desire is for the good of Ertene?"

"I swear that--I came to see if I could undo the damage I started."

"I knew we could count on you. We still can--and will. Now listen, and I'll tell you my end of this long and complicated tale. And, Guy, it is complicated beyond imagination. Confound it, remind me to call you Elanane. I might slip and that would be bad. You'll be Elanane for some time, you know, and you must be Elanane to the letter. Sit down and I'll begin to talk."

"I'm dazed."

"You must be thunderstruck. But you won't really feel the shock for a couple of hours. I'm going to do my talking now before shock sets in, and you'll be able to evaluate both sides at once. O.K.?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I feel that an explanation is due."

* * * * *

"It started with a coincidence and swiftly built up into an impossible necessity, Guy. First, an explanation of my actions. Ertene does not kill unless it is necessary, Guy. You won the liking of too many men; to eliminate you would have gone against the grain. You are a likable, innocuous chap, Guy. You are intelligent, quick, ingenious, and ambitious. You have few bad traits and vindictiveness is not one of them.

"However, since you were set free, and a living danger to us in spite of our drugs, plus the desire on the part of Ertene to learn all we could of Terran science--and what makes Terra run--I was appointed to the unenviable position of spy. Fortified with unlimited wealth, I purchased my way into the high spots. I took a sincere liking to you too, Guy, and together we climbed to a place near the top. I reported regularly to Ertene, and we are in possession of Terra's every secret. Believe me, it was necessary."

"I can see that," said Guy. "Ertene has never wanted to join Sol, nor wanted any part of us."

"Correct. You also realize that Terra would try like everything to keep us once you knew where we were--and that we were. You do not begrudge us Terra's secrets, Guy, because you believe in Ertene's ideal.

"Seven decdays ago, Elanane died. Ordinarily we would hold an immediate election to select a new lanee. One thing interfered. There is a faction on Ertene that desires conquest. Why, I do not know. They do--that's all. They are powerful, and the death of Elanane put these people in the limelight--or would have if his death had been disclosed. Therefore, knowing the majority of the people were against union, we kept Elanane's death a secret. We hired an actor for a few days--twenty or thirty. He is one of us, and one of the few who really know."

"How many know?"

"Believe it or not, Guy, less than ten men on all Ertene know that Elanane is dead. Members of the Council, even, are not all in the knowledge. Too many knowers make a bad secret, Guy. Now comes the coincidence."

"Me?" asked Guy in surprise.

"You," said Thomakein, nodding his head in amusement. "Your likeness to the assistant lanee on your initial visit was a factor in your freedom, Guy. Had you resembled one of our hateds you might not have had your chance. But people and human nature are funny. Resemblance to a loved character is a fine way to get yourself liked in an alien land. You resembled the assistant lanee then--and he became lanee not many decdays after your return to Terra. When, after his death, you became involved in the trouble on Terra and headed this way, I came to the conclusion that permitting you to masquerade as Elanane would serve us well."

"It sounds thin to me," objected Guy.

"I'll explain why you are a logical man. I've been the only one with contacts in your system. My stories about Terran prowess in the art of war have not been too well received. Most of Ertene do not understand your ability to take two widely divergent arts--luxuries, even--and combining them into hard-hitting weapons. Ertene would never think of using the barrier for a thing of war--yet you did it in a few weeks. That's one example.

"Now Elanane was openly against any traffic with Terra. You are Elanane. If we elected a new lanee who believed me and armed Ertene, those who desire conquest--and they really mean conquest--would use that as a lever. Their propaganda would direct everyone to the thought that the new lanee believed in conquest. In spite of previous thought, that conquest would be desirable and that he was preparing for eventual war. Follow?"

"I think so. If Elanane ordered that Ertene be prepared, no such propaganda would hold water. With Elanane, it would be strictly defensive armament. Is the fact of our resemblance clear to Ertene?"

"Uh--Oh. You mean the resemblance between the races. No. That would excite Ertene even more. Generally similar, yes. But the identicalness has been withheld."

"Do they know of me?"

"Vaguely. We caught a denizen, baffled him, questioned him completely, and strove to cure him of terrible MacMillan burns but failed."

"Too bad you couldn't use his open talk as a lever to gain your ends."

"No. We can't. But you'll help?"

"I must. It was my foolishness that put Ertene in danger. I'll strive to help Ertene as best I can. How am I to fool my friends?"

"With my help. You are a closer double to Elanane than you think, Guy. Even Leilanane, your sister, is fooled."

"I won't fool her too long," smiled Guy wryly.

"You will. Leilanane has been in school for four kilodays and her contact with her famous brother has been limited to scant visits, letters occasionally, and the visibox broadcasts every decday. People change--so have you changed. Oh, you've been ill and your lapses will be forgiven."

"I hope."

"Why," laughed Thomakein, "your predecessor even had the habit of masquerading so that he could get the un-retouched opinion of the man in the street."

* * * * *

Guy understood the meaning of the deference, the willingness to give him the better portion, the smiles and amusement at the name Gomanar, the willingness to accept his scant record as experience. A lot of things became clear, and he smiled, wiped his face with his open hand and said: "Thomakein, my heart is with Ertene. I feel that I have failed you in one thing. But with my knowledge of Terran strategy plus my high position on Ertene, we'll do everything in our power to keep Ertene free!" Guy's face brightened at the thought of far horizons, "I'll see another system some day. Perhaps ... Thomakein, has Lanee Elanane a wife or do I start from scratch?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to remain single--or give up the idea of children. I doubt very much that any offspring can come of a union between Terra and Ertene. You might marry, but you'll remain childless."

"At least I'd have company," said Guy, "or would I be likely to talk in my sleep?"

"Your trouble was something we of Ertene hadn't anticipated. It was twofold. You imbibed considerable of the higher alcohols, which exert a temporary nullifying effect on our super-drug. It is of the iso-dinilamine family too, you know. Well, that, plus your ingrained desire to tell people off after being goaded to the screaming point did it. You actually willed yourself to speak--and speak you did. Nothing Ertene could have done would have saved you, Guy, and so I am not holding you in blame."

Guy nodded, and then said: "Not to change the subject, Thomakein, but haven't you the ability to become lanee?"

"My liaison work with Sol kept me too much out of the public eye. Also, I am the only one who had contacts there. I'll have to return from time to time, too, which would interfere with being lanee. No, you're the man, Guy. We'll play this our way, you and I, and we'll get our answer that way."

"O.K. I'll play."

"You're tired."

"I am."

"Also slightly whirly, I imagine," grinned Thomakein. "Well, Elanane, you may sleep in the royal apartment tonight. We'll be there shortly. One more thing. You'll see Charalas. He's not aware. But you'll be hidden because of your resemblance to Elanane and the Ertinian dress, and so forth, plus the idea that no one--no, never--would ever impersonate the lanee! The latter is going to get us over a lot of close spots, Guy."

"I won't fear meeting Charalas. As long as you think I'm capable, I must be. You know the answers to this problem, Kane."

"From now on, it's Thomakein," reminded the latter. "And don't forget it for your life. That's one job--remembering one another's names--that we'll both have to work at."

"Right--Thomakein."

"Dead right--Elanane!"

XVII.

In the lanee's apartments, Guy sat down to think. It was morning, breakfast was over, and Guy had enjoyed a full night of deep and honest sleep. He had analyzed things to his satisfaction right up to the next move, and that troubled him.

There was no doubting Thomakein's statements concerning the need for masquerade, though Guy wondered whether it wasn't slightly off color. But Thomakein was of Ertene, and should know the temper of the Ertinians better than any Terran. Certainly there was no doubting Thomakein's ideals. And as for his friendship--that was well established.

But Thomakein was a little glib in expecting a rank outsider to come in and masquerade as a Public figure. It would be hard enough to act as a mere citizen with no popularity, let alone a rising, popular, and well-balanced governor of a planet.

He fingered the book of Elanane's friends and their descriptions and habits, and despaired of ever being able to call them by name, much less knowing them well enough to discuss their favorite subjects with them. It was a heavy volume, and Guy knew that Elanane was very much loved by his people.

Habit set in at this point, and Guy opened his little kit to shave before he recalled the depilatory that Thomakein gave him. Shaving, for Guy Maynard, was over forever since his trial of the rather tingling unguent that morning.

But--beside his razor was the partly-assembled thought-beam instrument. Guy laughed aloud.

This would put him in the possession of anything that was needed. And Guy grinned again. This was his secret. Let Thomakein think that he was really brilliant. He'd use the thought-beam gadget for himself, and use it for the best. Besides, letting knowledge of the thought-beam instrument out would be as dangerous for Guy on Ertene as it would have been on Terra. No one alive, save Guy, knew of the instrument. Its inventors were dead and gone and every instrument of its kind a smoking mass of burned components. For his own protection, he would keep this one secret.

He snorted in derision. Would he never finish having secrets to keep? Was his life to continue with one important phase hidden from the world? Would he never be free?

Or, came the comforting thought, do all men have something hidden from their fellows?

Finishing the instrument was impossible at the present time. That would take some work. But if Guy by-passed some of the finer circuits, he could at least gain a crude idea of a man's surface thoughts, especially if they were directed at him. Guy started to hook the partially-completed instrument together, and considered the effectiveness of the instrument.

It was small, luckily. It fitted one pouch of the pocket-belt to perfection, and Guy closed the flap over the instrument and snapped the little catch with confidence.

Guy nodded. Then he rang for his valet.

"You rang." It was an introductory statement rather than a redundant question, and it held none of the abruptness that a query as to the wants of the lanee might have held.

Guy faced the Ertinian and read in the man's mind that his name was Willadoran. "Willadoran, when is Leilanane expected to arrive?"

In the man's mind Guy could see admiration for his lanee, enhanced since the busy governor had time to think of his younger sister no matter how busy he was.

"Sometime today," answered Willadoran.

"I wonder if I'll have time to see Charalas first."

An annoying thought crossed Willadoran's mind--had Elanane forgotten that Charalas never awakened at this time?

"I mean after Charalas arises," amended Guy.

Elanane must be reading my mind, came the amused thought. "I'll see," came the reply, "that he is informed of your desire as soon as he awakens."

"Good," said Guy. He reminded himself never to take an expressed thought for speech. He smiled inwardly at Willadoran's amusement and wondered what the valet would do if the truth were known. Willadoran was highly amused at the idea that Elanane was a mind-reader, and considered the act utterly impossible.

A deep-seated impulse to shock the valet crossed Guy's mind, and it was only with trouble that he stifled the impulse.

Guy tried to discern Willadoran's thought concerning Charalas again, but it was a blank. Thomakein was blank, as was Leilanane, and Guy decided that his instrument was not sensitive enough to dig these deep-seated thoughts out of the below-threshold level. Only the surface thoughts were available--which, thought Guy, were sufficient.

Guy spent an hour speculating, and roaming the apartment to investigate its mysteries. Then Charalas came.

The neuro-surgeon smiled affably, looked around, and asked: "Well, where is it?"

Guy started, and then smiled. "You're slightly earlier than I expected." He went to the cupboard indicated in Charalas' mind and returned with the toran set. He was about to ask: _white or black?_ when he perceived that Charalas expected the black men since he had been victorious on their last game. Reading the positions from Charalas' mind, Guy set up the various men upon their proper squares, and offered Charalas the first move, which was proper.

Guy's knowledge of chess was fair, and toran was an Ertinian version of the ancient Terran game. He had no idea as to the moves, but--Charalas thought: _Elanane always counters my first move by counter-attacking with his vassal._

Guy moved the minor piece up to confront the other.

Charalas covered his pawn with a major piece and Guy countered with exactly the one thought that Charalas hoped against.

Charalas set up a complicated trap, and sat back thinking: _Let's see you outguess that one, Elanane._

Guy wondered about the move of the castle piece, and touched it briefly. _Four moves in any direction_, came Charalas' thought. Guy moved the castle, and Charalas thought: _Now why did he do that?_

Guy worried. Elanane might not have made that move.

_If I move my protector, he should fall into the trap by capturing it. He always does._

Guy decided that this game was no fun at all, and took the piece. Charalas smiled brightly and removed three of Guy's major pieces with a single move, Guy countered by making the one move that Charalas did not want, and the Ertinian lost the piece that he was hoping to save. The rest was quick, Charalas moved and Guy countered, but Charalas triumphed because Guy didn't know enough to set up his own traps. He could avoid Charalas' traps, but in simple exchanges he lost ground, and finally Charalas removed the last white piece from the board.

The neuro-surgeon smiled tolerantly, "You may be lanee, Elanane, but I am still your master at toran."

"I'll learn some day," promised Guy.

"You seemed preoccupied," said Charalas. "You've been worrying."

"That's possible."

"About Sol, I'd guess."

"Right."

"Why worry about them?" asked Charalas.

"They threaten our integrity."

"You mean since Thomakein informed us that the Terran, Gomanar, was forced to violate his oath?"

Guy blinked. To treat this properly, he would have to absolutely divorce himself from his personality and treat the Terran as another entity. "Yes," he said. "The Terrans, according to Thomakein, are more than capable of setting up a detector that will detect the presence of the light-shield."

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes."

"We should look forward to it--and plan."

"Elanane," said Charalas, "my loyalty has never been questioned. For a moment, I'd like to discuss this as an impartial observer."

"Of course."

"Ertene is stale."

"Stale?" asked Guy in astonishment.

"Ertene has lost the pathway that leads to the apex," said Charalas. "We have become soft and stale."

"I don't understand."

* * * * *

"When mankind came to Ertene, he was a soft, inefficient creature. Nature had tried size, force, quantity, physical adaptability, and a score of other concepts before she tried brains. Mankind was nature's experiment with brains as a means of survival. We are a weakling race, Elanane. Unarmed, we are no match for any of the beasts of the jungle. Dropped into the depths of uncivilization--naked and alone--what happens?"

"We die."

"No we do not. Within fifteen minutes we are armed with a stone bound to a treelimb. Then we are the match for anything that lives. Within a day, we are supreme in our jungleland. Our home is in a tree. Snares are set for food animals, death traps are set for carnivores, and the jungle is cleared for our safety. And, Elanane, from that time on the beasts of the jungle avoid us. We, the weakling creature, are to be feared mortally."

"Granted, but what has that to do with the present?"

"Mankind fought the jungle to supremacy. Mankind fought beasts, the cannibals, and nature herself. He pushed himself upward by walking on the heads of those below him. Then he fought with himself, since there was nothing left that was worthy of his mettle. He fought himself because he could gain no more by fighting lesser things."

"What may we gain by fighting among ourselves?" asked Guy.

"The right way to live," said Charalas thoughtfully. "Consider, Elanane, the extremes of government. No matter what you call them, they are absolute anarchy and absolute tyranny, and between these two lie every other form of government. Obviously complete anarchy is impossible at the present level of human nature. Equally obvious is the impossibility of absolute tyranny in a culture based upon ambition and education. But, Elanane, somewhere between these extremes is the best system."

"Can fighting find it?" asked Guy doubtfully.

"It is the only way. Consider an hypothetical planet containing two continents of equal size, on opposite hemispheres. One continent is absolute anarchy, the other complete tyranny." Charalas grinned boyishly for all of his years. "Obviously they have been living in complete ignorance of one another up to now, for otherwise they couldn't have arrived at those extremes.

"Well, it is hypothetical, anyway, and there are your constants. This goes on, and then one day one of two things happen. Either is possible and I am not plumping for either side--but the two possibilities are: One, the tyrant decides to gather the anarchs under his rule, or; two: the anarchs decide to free their fellows from the tyrant rule. This, Elanane, means war, to quote an ancient cry.

"Immediately the tyrant finds that he cannot run the whole show by himself, so he relegates power to able men. The anarchs decide that they are impotent, and elect leaders to run certain phases of the campaign. So we have less of a tyranny on one side and less anarchy on the other. In either case, power relegated is seldom regained, and as the years bear on, war after war is fought and either side approaches a norm."

Guy smiled. "Supposing one side wins."

"That is a sign that the winning side is closer to the best form of social co-operation."

"And when they reach that norm, then what?"

"They never reach," said Charalas. "Their struggles cause each of them to rise above the norm, and then they swing like the pendulum below the norm. It is a long, damped cycle."

"A damped cycle must eventually cease."