some still remember the old Valkar kings who made the stars their footstools!'
Banning said, “But the thing that brought on the rebellion — the thing you called the Hammer of the Valkars. What happened to that?'
Rolf looked at Him gravely. ‘It has been lost, for all those ages. Only the Valkars knew where the Hammer was being prepared, and what it was. The clue to that secret was passed down from father to son, ever since the Old Empire fell. You were the only one who had that clue.'
Banning stared. “So that's why Kyle Valkar is so pivotal a figure in all this!'
Rolf said grimly, “That's why. You told me — and me alone — that the Hammer was on a world kept in Cygnus Cluster. You said that, with the star-maps of ninety thousand years ago, you could find that world.'
The big man added somberly, “You almost succeeded, Kyle. You found the maps you needed in the archives at Rigel, you started out toward Cygnus Cluster. But Tharanya and Jommor overtook you, and destroyed your memory and exiled you on faraway Earth, and now nobody knows the secret of the Hammer's hiding-place.'
It sounded wildly incredible to Banning. He said so, and added, “Why wouldn't they have killed the one man who held such a secret, to make sure?'
Rolf said sardonically. “Jommor would have done so, and gladly. But Tharanya wouldn't. A woman — even one like Tharanya — shouldn't rule an Empire.'
'And you are trying to overturn this New Empire,” Banning probed, “With just the few men in this ship?'
'There'll be others, Kyle. A message has been sent to them, and they'll gather at Katuun. Not many — but we'll be enough to pull down the Empire, if we have the Hammer.'
'But you don't have it! And I know nothing of how to find it!'
'No, Kyle. But perhaps you soon will!'
When Banning tried to learn more, Rolf grunted, “Later. Right now, you must learn to speak. I've said that I restored your memory before we left Earth, and you're sick from the shock of that.'
'The man who drove the car must know differently,” Banning reminded.
'Eyre?’ said Rolf. ‘He's safe, he's my man. But the others don't know. They're anxious to see you. You must appear soon, as Kyle Valkar.'
Banning was learning the language fast. Too fast. For this language was enormously complex, showing every sign of vast age. Yet Banning picked it up easily. He reproduced Rolf's accent perfectly. It was as though his tongue and lips were used to shaping those sounds, as though this knowledge was already in his mind, dormant, needing only awakening.
He shrank from that thought. It would mean that Rolf was right, that the people of that Nebraska town had told truth, that Neil Banning didn't exist. He couldn't, he wouldn't, believe that. How could a man let his own self go? No, it was a trick, Rolf had somehow hypnotized the folk of that town — it was only a clever imposture he was being used for.
There was no day or night for Banning. He slept, ate, and finally Rolf said, “They're waiting.'
'Who?'
'My men. Your men, Kyle. You can speak well enough. You're coming out, I told them that you'd recovered.'
Banning went cold. He had dreaded this moment. As long as he remained in the little cabin, he could postpone realization of his situation. Now he had to face it.
'Go along with it!” he told himself. “Find out for sure just what's behind Rolf's lies, before you make your move!'
The door was opened. Rolf stood aside, waiting for him to go first. He walked out into the corridor.
'This way,” said Rolf's harsh voice, at his ear. “To the right. Get your head up. You're supposed to be the son of kings.'
The corridor led into an officers’ mess. A half-dozen men rose to their feet as Rolf said loudly, “The Valkar!'
They looked at Banning with desperate, hungry eyes. He knew he had to speak to them. But before be could, one wolf-faced man stepped forward. He spoke deliberately to Banning.
'You are not the Valkar.'
CHAPTER IV
Silence, a seeming eternity of it, in which Banning stared into the dark wolfish face before him and felt his heart sink under an icy weight of apprehension. Well, that was that. They'd found him out. Now what? Rolf's warning came back to him — surrender, Jommor, death.
He thought desperately that he should speak, try to bluster his way out of it, but his tongue was stiff in his mouth. Before he could force it to make words, the wolf-faced man lifted his wine-glass high and shouted, “But you will be! We fought for you before, we'll fight again — and this time we'll see you back on your rightful throne. Hail, Valkar!'
'Hail Valkar!'
The cry rang from the metal walls. Relief swept over Banning and the hawk-eyed, hard-handed officers misread the emotion on his face for something else and cheered again. From some inner corner of Banning's soul there came unexpectedly a sense of pride. For a moment it seemed only right and good that these men were giving him a chieftain's greeting. His back straightened. He looked at them, and said, “The Valkars have never lacked for good men. I—'
He faltered. The brief moment was gone, and he saw Rolf looking at him, satisfaction shading swiftly into anxiety.
Abruptly, Banning smiled. Rolf had got him into this. Let Rolf worry. Let him sweat. Let him loyally and abjectly serve the Valkar.
'Wine,” he said, “I'll give my officers a pledge in return.'
Rolf's eyes narrowed, but he put a wineglass in Banning's hand.
'Gentlemen,” said Banning, “I give you the return of the Old Empire and the freedom of the stars!'
The response almost deafened him. He turned to Rolf and whispered in English, “Corny — but effective, don't you think?” He drained the glass.
Rolf laughed. It was genuine laughter, and Banning felt that he had done something that pleased Rolf instead of angering him.
To the others Rolf said, “Jommor's cleverness failed. In spite of him, the Valkar is not changed. I know. I taught him his first lessons. He is still the Valkar.'
He presented the officers one by one. Schrarm, Landolf, Kirst, Felder, Burri, Tawn. They looked like hard, competent, devoted men. Banning did not think he would last long among them if they found out he was not the Valkar, but only Neil Banning of Nebraska. He was afraid of them, and fear sharpened his wits, finding words for his tongue and a lordly carriage for his head. He was amazed at how easy it was to be lordly.
He was beginning to think he might get away with it when a young orderly came into the messroom and snapped to attention so rigidly that Banning could almost hear his bones crack.
'Captain Behrent's compliments,” he said, “and would the Valkar honor him by attending the bridge? We are now entering the Drift—'
A strident whistle from a speaker high in the wall drowned out the orderly's words. A voice followed the whistle, requiring all hands to take their stations.
The officers prepared to go. They laughed and said, “It was touch and go on the outward trip, but this time running the Drift will be easy with the Valkar at the helm.'
'— entering the Drift,” said the orderly with dogged determination, “and the Captain defers to—'
Between the whistling, the monotonous repetition of orders, and the jostling of the officers as they went out the orderly gave up. He turned on Banning a look of pure hero-worship and said simply, “Sir, we'd all feel safer with you as our pilot now.'
Oh, God, thought Banning, and looked despairingly at Rolf. Rolf smiled, and when the orderly stepped back, he said, “Oh, yes, you're a space pilot, one of the greatest. To be a king of stars, you must be a master of space,
