sound and sight of them, were enough to demoralize all but the bravest, and even the bravest went down before that resistless attack. The Arraki were obedient. They avoided killing when they could. But they swept the ship clean, right up to the bridge, and Keesh and Sohmsei, under special orders, got to the radio room before the operator realized what was going on.
Banning returned to the port. He was breathing bard, and bleeding a bit, and his head was whirling with a wild excitement such as he had never even guessed at in the old days on Earth. Rolf came panting up, and Banning said, “It's done here.'
Rolf grinned, wiping blood away where somebody had bit him in the mouth. “Here, too. We're just mopping up.'
Banning laughed. He held out his hand, and Rolf took it, and they shook hands, laughing. The Arraki began to herd the men out of the cruiser, and on the ground, the Valkar's men and the Arraki that were with them were rounding up the Empire men from among the trees. They looked bewildered and resentful, as though they did not yet understand what had happened to them.
Banning said, “And now?'
'Now,” Rolf said, “It's Rigel for us, and Jommor — and you'll be Kyle Valkar again and your hand will grasp the Hammer.'
Banning looked up at the sky, where the heart of Empire swung around its sun, far-off and unsuspecting.
CHAPTER VII
The heavy cruiser Sunfire sped across the star-gulfs, homing toward Rigel.
Outwardly, she was what she had always been — one of the swiftest, most powerful craft in space, with the Empire crest bright on her haughty bough; carrying a full complement of officers and men, all correctly clad in Imperial uniform and armed with Imperial arms. Inwardly, she was a stalking-horse, a delusion and a snare.
'All the manuals are here,” said Rolf, “signal code and all. With any luck—'
Banning worded a careful message, in a very secret code, and had it flashed ahead by the hyper-space radio signal system that took almost no time at all.
Returning with conspirators, respectfully suggest utmost secrecy. Request instructions. He signed it with the name of the Sunfire's captain, who was sitting it out under Arraki guard, back on Katuun.
An answer came back. Come direct to Winter Palace. You are cleared through. It was signed Tharanya.
Rolf smiled grimly. “The Winter Palace — how very fitting! It was there they thought they had destroyed the Valkar, and now — they'll see! The palace is detached and quiet, with its own landing-field—'
'And very strong dungeons,” said Horek. “Don't forget that.'
'You'd better stay aboard the ship,” Banning told him. “If they catch sight of your honest face, we'll all be under lock and key.” He laughed. He was excited, growing more so with every star-league that dropped behind them. The venture itself was wild enough to get any man excited, but it was more than that. It was anticipation, and a name. Tharanya. He did not know why this should be, but it was so. Suddenly he wanted to see her, to hear her voice, to know what she looked like and how she moved.'
'Always the boldest stroke,” said Rolf softly. “She'll be there, not suspecting anything, all afire to see for herself whether or not this is really the Valkar. And Jommor will be with her. Even if his office as chief councilor didn't require it, he'd be there. He has his own reasons. He'll be anxious to assure himself that Zurdis told the truth.” Rolf made a grasping motion with his hand. “And we'll have them both.'
The mention of Jommor sent a little chill through Banning. He did not want to meet him. Jommor could be the last, the final test of the reality of Neil Banning, and Banning did not want to face that. He told himself savagely that there was nothing to fear, because he was Neil Banning and nobody could take that away from him. But still he was afraid.
Horek smiled, like a man who thinks of pleasant things. “When we have them,” he said, “we have the secret of the Hammer. And with the Hammer, and a Valkar who knows how to wield it—” He made a gesture that could easily have taken in a universe.
The Hammer? Banning had been thinking about that, too. He had been looking at the guns of this cruiser, the great guns that fired powerful atom-shells far faster than light, sighted by hyper-space radar impulses. And these ordinary Imperial weapons seemed terrible to him. How much more terrible could be the mysterious Hammer that the whole galaxy had dreaded?
Sunfire sped onward, homing on a blazing star.
A tension grew within the ship. Behrent, who had once been of the Imperial Fleet, spent much time training his officers and crew to use the great guns, snarling at their blunders, grimly reminding them that their lives might depend upon this. Banning slept little, sitting for endless hours with Rolf or Horek or the other captains, or brooding on the bridge. And always at his heels were Sohmsei and Keesh.
The two Arraki had refused to be left behind. “Lord,” Sohmsei had said, “you went once without me, and the years of waiting were long.'
They entered the outer web of patrols that protected the capital world. Twice, three times, and again they were challenged — a matter of routine, but one that could be deadly if the slightest thing occurred to rouse suspicions. But each time they identified themselves and were told to pass on. They reduced speed, timing their landing with a fine precision. Rigel burned with a bluish glare, but they were sweeping in toward the third planet, hunting its shadow.
'We want it dark,” Rolf had said. “Good and dark. It'll give us just that much more advantage.'
They passed the inner patrol ring and picked up the planetary beam. Sunfire, they said, cleared for Destination B, Signal One!
And the answer came back. Proceed, Sunfire. All other shipping is standing clear.
The shadow swallowed them, the bulk of the planet now made vast by its nearness, occluding the blaze of Rigel.
Banning's nervousness reached a fine-drawn edge and stopped there, leaving him strangely cold and calm. Neil Banning or Kyle Valkar — he had to go through with this, and it would tell him which man he really was!
The voices of the officers took on a subdued note. Below, the men were ready, under arms.
'Flight officers and crew will stay aboard,” said Banning, ready to take off — and I mean ready, not in minutes but in split-seconds.” He looked around at Rolf and Horek and the other “conspirators', and at Landolph and Tawn, who were to play officers of the guard. “You have all the orders I can give you. The rest of it we'll have to make up as we go along. Good luck.'
Prepare for landing,” said a metallic voice from the audio system. Banning glanced down through the port. They were sweeping low over a vast city that seemed to fill half a continent, glowing with lights of many colors. Beyond it, some distance beyond… in the surrounding darkness of the country, there was one isolated spot of brilliance.
'The Winter Palace,” said Rolf, and Banning's heart gave one wild leap. Tharanya! Then he said quietly, “We'd better get ready. Check your weapons, all of you, and see that they're well hidden. Use your shockers — no killing unless you have to. And remember — Tharanya and Jommor must be taken alive, and unhurt!'
To the two Arraki he said, “You must not be seen at first — stay well in the shadows until I call.'
Tawn and Landolph assembled the guard, drawn up very soldierly in even ranks — a heavy guard because of the importance of the prisoners. Banning drew his mantle over his face and waited. His pulses hammered, and it was difficult to breathe.
The ship touched down.
Smartly, with a crisp calling of orders and a rhythmic tramp of boots, the guard marched out and down the landing ramp, with the prisoners in the center of a hollow square. They were joined by an additional detachment from the Palace Guard, and marched across the open area of the landing-field to the palace gate. Banning was glad to see that there were no other craft on the field, which had obviously been kept clear for the big cruiser, Sunfire would at least not be hampered at her getaway.
Their double escort swung them quickly across a section of the grounds, dappled with light and shadow,
