In the days that passed, Guy noted a tendency to show him deference. He
could not understand, though he tried, why they would single him out
above the others. When he needed a tool, and his actions showed that he
was in search, a mere question brought immediate--not only results--but
delivery to his bench.
They stood aside as he approached narrow passageways, and in a tight
corridor they would back up all the way without a word. His own offer
of retreat went unwanted; the other party retreated and waited with
a smile until Guy decided that they had reached an impasse and went
himself since the other obviously had no intention of moving.
He found this same condition prevailed throughout the city, too. They
spoke to him seldom, yet he found himself with the best meals, the
better seats, the quieter rooms, and the clearest path.
It took about twenty days of that to get Guy worried.
And since he became dead certain that they suspected him of being
different, Guy left the city at night, and gave only a short note of
thanks to Jerimick. He explained that his search required that he seek
new fields. His only concession to Terran training was the night he
selected. It was the night after payday, and it increased his tiny
store of funds to a more reasonable value.
Guy took a night-flier and went halfway across the continent. It still
followed him, for the stewardess gave him more than his share of
attention.
Guy was not vain. No more, that is, than any other normal man. He knew
that his figure was well-proportioned and did not require any apology
in the abbreviated Ertinian costume. His features were regular, and
though his thirty years was still considered young, the lines on his
face gave him character. He'd been shaving within an inch of his life
each morning and before dinner each night, and he knew that his beard
was light enough to escape detection as long as he maintained that
schedule.
This attention he was getting bothered him. He was not ready for
attention yet. He'd prefer a couple of years to establish some sort of
false foundation by skipping around from place to place, and losing his
past in the maze of data.
What was worse, he could pin nothing down definitely. He wondered
whether he might be guiltily self-conscious. That might be. But he'd
been honestly critical and knew that Ertene was singling him out for
something.
It was not the kind of attention that accompanied suspicion or
notoriety. It was a universal will to help him, to offer him the best,
to accord him some sort of deference.
But why?
His discussions with others were nonproductive. They spoke in vague
terms until they heard his viewpoint and then agreed with him, and
it was only with difficulty that he learned their true views were
calculable only by the magnitude of their agreement.
For lack of anything more desirable, Guy took to walking in the
evening. He covered miles in his meanderings through this city in the
center of the continent, and in doing so learned very little, but at
least it kept him from being everlastingly confronted by that unnamable
acclaim.
Worst of all, most of them treated his name--Gomanar--with some
amusement. Guy searched his mind, and knew that it had no amusing
nuance by any stretch of the imagination. He wondered whether he had
assumed the name of some famous man, but a search of the libraries
gave him negative evidence--which in this case was fairly conclusive
both for fame and for notoriety.
His work was well received. Even when he made errors, it was
overlooked, and Guy knew that others were called to task for their
errors.
At last he could stand it no longer, and since his position as an
instrument worker placed him in contact with numberless small,
technical parts, Guy pilfered them shamelessly, and started to make a
thought-beam receiver in his rooms.
And that was a project that might take a year in itself.
But it would give him the answer.
* * * * *
Forty days after he arrived in this city, which contained among other
things the most prominent university on Ertene, Guy was walking
alone in his usual habit. His steps unconsciously turned toward the
university campus, and as he neared the broad campus, the pleasant
strains of music came to him. It gave him a lift of spirit, and his
steps quickened until he was approaching a ten-deep ring of people
surrounding the vast campus.
He stood behind them, trying to look between their heads, and his
curiosity caused him to press forward. The man ahead of him turned,
annoyed, and his annoyance turned to pleasure. He stepped aside and
motioned Guy to take his place. Guy blinked, smiled, and moved forward;
it had become natural to accept these offers. A whispering arose,
faint, unintelligible, insidious. Those in front of him pressed aside,
one by one, and opened a lane for Guy until he could see the entire
campus from the front line.
He remembered seeing a notice in the evening news; The University of
Locana was holding the graduation dance for the upper classmen. It
meant absolutely nothing to Guy, but the sight was interesting to see.
The gay colors, the glad music, the circling couples--were all cheerful
until the music stopped with a sudden crash, and played a loud, joyous
chord.
The orchestra leader pointed his long wand in Guy's direction, and from
the maze of dancers there came a youthful figure, running.
"Elanane!" she called. "Oh, Elanane!"
He heard the whisper "--the lanee's sister--" and nothing registered
save that this girl must be the sister of the elected governor of
Ertene. He didn't know her, which he thought to be a shame since she
appealed to his sense of appreciation as few other women ever had. He
probably never would know her.
"Elanane!" she called as she approached her brother, who must be near
Guy. He looked around to see who he might be--and when he looked back
at her to get another "fix" on the line of her sight, to better follow
her intended course, he found himself hurled back three steps as the
girl ran, without stopping, right into him.
She hurled herself at Guy hungrily, and hugged him until he felt his
ribs complaining.
He grunted, and she stepped back to inspect him. "I knew you wouldn't
miss it," she said. She was deliriously happy and went right on talking
with the appearance of one who has had no one to talk to for several
years. "I was worried--you worried me, Elanane. I actually thought
you'd miss your sister's graduation, and I'll only graduate once. But
you didn't."
Guy took the wise course. He said nothing. A protestation would have
caused comment and questioning as to his real identity. An acceptance
of the masquerade would set him up even afterwards as a liar and an
open fake. He decided to brazen it out and hope for an opening that
would permit him to get away without exciting more comment.
He wondered what her name was. A man should know his own sister's name.
"--ill, they told me. Unable to visit me. Elanane, you look the soul of
health!"
Guy decided that an answer was necessary and he wondered about the tone
of his voice and the characteristics of his speech. They would give him
away. But a short, precise answer might not.
"I've had a sore throat," he said. He hoped that would explain the
differences in tonal range.
"_Pooh!_ Couldn't have been bad at all."
"They thought so."
"Why, you're not even hoarse!"
Guy decided that she was so elated at her brother's presence that
anyone could sell her a bill of goods. "I'm not?"
"Not in the least. I don't think you were ill at all. You've been
running all over Ertene again, Elanane, trying to make people think you
are a vagrant, and trying to get honest information out of them. You
should be ashamed, not trusting us!"
Guy Maynard felt a bit of worry. He began to wonder several
things, among which were the answers to the questions of: One, was
he completely insane; two: was he Guy Maynard, Elanane, or the
reincarnation of Haroun El-Raschid; and three: how was he going to get
out of this? He decided then that the first was possible, the last
desirable, and the second highly questionable.
A bit of Terra's own private humor reared its horned head in Guy's
mind and the forked tail glinted impishly over the ruddy forehead as
the devil winked at him. Guy felt a hand-shaking acquaintance with the
devil at that moment and decided to have something to remember, at
least.
"I'm here," he told her, "to see your graduation. I came because you
would be hurt if I remained away, and because I wanted to see you
happy. But I'm holding up the proceedings here, and not even a lanee
should demand that your ceremonies be interrupted for a whim. I'd
stay, but I have work to do--and believe me if it did not concern the
integrity of Ertene I'd remain and watch. But you go back to your
dance and I'll be with you later!"
"That's a promise, Elanane?"
"A promise. Now give your big brother a kiss and go back to your
ceremony."
"A promise," said the girl to seal the agreement. Her kiss was
affectionate but sisterly, and Guy wondered afterwards why he expected
anything but a sisterly kiss from a sister. Then she turned and went
back to her partner. The music began again, and Guy stood there
watching. To rush off would excite suspicion, and though the nerves up
and down his spine were tingling, Guy stood there brazenly, fighting
that rising impulse to turn and bolt.
Then feigning sorrow at having to leave, Guy turned and made his way
through the crowd. A man behind him shouted: "All right, folks! It's no
secret now! Do you like him?"
The roar of cheers that went up nearly staggered Guy.
_Elanane must be one swell person_, thought Guy. Well, that was that.
Now what? Disguise upon disguise? He was a marked man, just as much
marked as if he'd permitted his whiskers to grow.
He cursed Elanane for his looks, and wished that the lanee of Ertene
had been possessed of brown eyes, a hook nose, and a cleft chin--or
that he did. Well, now what--?
Guy didn't know.
* * * * *
The next move was made for him. A man came up, tapped him on the
shoulder and said: "Thomakein will be glad to see you, Elanane."
Guy squirmed inside. He'd never seen Thomakein, but he'd heard plenty
about this Ertinian. On the other hand, Thomakein had seen him on his
previous visit to Ertene, and Guy knew that Thomakein might have seen
him without his mustache at one time, for he vaguely recalled having
been shaved clean at one time during his convalescence. He turned and
looked behind him.
A second Ertinian smiled widely. "Thomakein said you were playing the
vagrant again, Elanane, and that he insisted that you come immediately.
Things require your personal attention."
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!"