any more.
'The New Empire,” Rolf repeated. He made the adjective a bitter curse. “With that cat Tharanya at its head, and the craft of Jommor holding her up. Yes, the last Valkar was a menace to them.'
'But why?'
Rolf's voice rolled. “Because the Valkars were the kings of the Old Empire, the star-empire that ruled half the galaxy, ninety thousand years ago. Because the star worlds have not altogether forgotten their rightful kings.'
Banning stared, and then he began to laugh a little. The dream had become too preposterous, too crazy. You couldn't take it seriously any more.
'So I'm not Neil Banning of Earth. I'm Kyle Valkar, of the stars.'
'You are.'
'And I'm a king.'
'No, Kyle. Not yet. But you almost made it, the last time. If we succeed this time, you will be.'
Banning said flatly, “I'm Banning. That I know. I may look like Kyle Valkar. That must be why you picked me up. Let me see the others.'
Rolf's eyes narrowed. “Why?'
'I'm going to tell them what kind of deception you're pulling'
The big dark man spoke between his teeth. “No you're not. They think you're Kyle Valkar. Well, you are. But they also think you've got your memory back — which you haven't.'
'Then you admit you're deceiving them?” Banning demanded.
'Only in that one matter. Kyle, they wouldn't follow on this venture if they thought you were still without memory! They'd know you couldn't take them to The Hammer.'
'The Hammer?'
'I'll tell you of it later. Right now, get this through your skull. If they suspect you don't remember, they'll abandon this venture. You'll go back to Jommor. This time, it'll not be exile for you — but death.'
There was a deadly earnestness about Rolf. Banning tried to think. Then he said, “I can't speak that language of yours.'
'No. Jommor did a nice clean job on you.'
'Then how can I pass myself off as your Valkar?'
Rolf answered obliquely, “You are in bad shape, Kyle. Fetching your memory back has given you a shock. You'll need to keep in this cabin, for quite a while. But I'll be here with you a lot.'
For a moment Banning didn't got it, then he understood “You mean, I'm to learn the language from you?'
'Re-learn it. Yes.'
Banning said, after a moment, “All right. If there's nothing else I can do—'
He was turning as he said it, and of a sudden he was on Rolf's broad back, his forearm around the dark man's neck in a strangle-hold, squeezing.
Rolf gasped, “Sorry, Kyle—” and then his massive muscles seemed to explode like bursting springs, and Banning found himself hitting the cabin wall with a crash. He lay, the breath knocked out of him.
Rolf unlocked the door. He turned a moment and said dourly, “I'd have been flayed alive for that, in the old King City. But it was a pleasure. Now cool down.'
He went out.
Banning, left alone, sat and stared a long time without moving, at the metal wall. He felt that his mind was floundering, and he clawed for a grip on reality.
'I am Neil Banning, and I am merely dreaming—'
He struck the wall with his clenched fist. His knuckles bruised convincingly. Blood showed on them. No, that wouldn't work.
'All right, this ship is real. A starship, going to Antares. Rolf is real, and this New Empire — a star empire that Earth doesn't dream of. But I'm still Neil Banning!'
Not Kyle Valkar — no! If he let himself believe that he was another man completely, a man from far star worlds with a past he couldn't remember, then his own personality, his own self, would waver and vanish like smoke and he would be nothing—
The Empire existed. The starships existed. Earth didn't know of them, but they obviously knew about Earth, knew its ways and languages from secret visits. This ship, Rolf, had made such a secret visit. They had come, they had taken Neil Banning, and now they were going away again. There was a purpose in that. They needed, for some vast star-intrigue, a man who could pose as Kyle Valkar. The Valkar, the descendant of ancient star-kings. And he, Banning, by physical resemblance could play the part. He was to be a pawn in their intrigue, and would be a better pawn if Rolf could convince him that he really was the Valkar.
Banning tried desperately to think what he must do. It was hard, for he still reeled from the impact of a newly-revealed universe, the unearthly shock of being in this ship. But he must, in this incredible predicament, fight for himself.
'Find out things,” he thought. “Learn where you stand, what they're trying to do with you, before you attempt anything. You've got to know—'
Hours went by. The deep, almost inaudible drone was the only sound. Outside these metal walls was the primal abyss, and a billion suns. He must not think of that.
Rolf came back. He brought new clothing for Banning, like his own, outlandish but comfortable — and the rich fabric of the white tunic had a stylized sunburst symbol picked out in jewels on the breast. Banning put it on without objection. His mind was made up — he must learn, and learn fast.
'Now you look like The Valkar,” grunted Rolf. “You've got to talk like him, too. And there's little enough time.'
Rolf began, naming every object in the cabin in his own language. Banning repeated the words. And then the words for “star” and “king” and “Empire.'
'Rolf.'
'Yes?'
'This Old Empire, of which the Valkars were kings. You said that was ninety thousand years ago?'
'Yes. A long time. But it's still remembered, on all of the star-worlds except a few that sank back into complete savagery, like Earth.'
Banning was startled. “Earth? It was part of that Old Empire?'
'It, and half of the galaxy.” Rolf brooded. “When the crash came, when the Old Empire fell, it was the faraway fringe-worlds that lost contact most completely. No wonder their colonists soon sank to savagery, almost to apehood, as on Earth.'
From the somber references that Rolf made, in this and the next visits, Banning began to piece together a vague picture, an undreamed-of cosmic history.
The Old Empire, the Empire of the Valkars! They had ruled it from Katuun at Antares, their starships had webbed the galactic spaces, and the people of a myriad suns paid tribute to their power. But there had long been murmurings against the rule of these galactic lords, and more than one abortive rebellion. Finally, the Valkars themselves had precipitated a crisis.
Word spread that in a remote, inaccessible part of the galaxy, the Valkar lords were preparing a secret, terrible agency that would overawe all rebels in future. None knew its nature, or its powers. But rumor called it the Hammer of the Valkars, and said that with it the Valkars could destroy all the peoples in the galaxy if they wished.
That rumor detonated a cosmic rebellion! The peoples of the star worlds would not let the Valkars attain such life-or-death power over them. They rose in revolution, and civil war rent the whole fabric of interstellar civilization and shattered the Old Empire. Many, many far systems and worlds, when the starships came no longer, sank into barbarism and a long night.
A few star-worlds retained their civilization, their technics. They kept a few starships flying. And those few worlds, centering around the system of Rigel, expanded their efforts to bring more and more worlds back into a cooperative civilization. Thus had begun the New Empire, which professed to reject the pride and pomp of conquest of the Old Empire, and to bring a new day of cooperation to all planets.
Rolf spat in hatred. “They and their hypocritical talk of friendliness and peace! They've won many over. But
