The Best Made Plans Part 34

"Are there any other claimants present?"

Stern felt drained of energy. What was this? The father had been impossible to control--like Gorham. Did the son combine other powers with that resistance? Where had these Michaels people come from? He tried once more.

"There are no valid claimants present," he snapped sharply. "I----"

"That's not exactly what I asked," Don told him. "But we'll take it as meaning that Pete's the only claimant. So, I demand that you follow the ritual and escort him to the conclave." He waved the weapon.

"Come on. We've been held up here long enough. Let's go."

Suddenly, Stern felt powerless. This whole thing had fallen apart. He should never have come in here. He should have just taken off--as he had intended. In s.p.a.ce, he would have been safe, at least. Here? He bent his head resignedly.

He could try one more thing. This was a young man--inexperienced.

Maybe----

"You will precede us," he said.

"No," Don told him, "I don't think I will. I think it will be better if I leave that honor to one of the other wardens. I want to be able to see you." He jerked his head at a man who stood to the left of the door.

"Will you honor us, Mernar-dar?"

The other tilted his head. "It is I who am honored," he said. He turned and went out the door.

Dazedly, Stern walked forward, pacing with the claimant. He paused as he got to the porch. Michaels was still standing inside the door.

"Right here," he said coldly, "we shall return to a very old custom. I shall remain, to protect the rear. And I shall watch the entire progress of the advance to the Throne Room." He smiled grimly.

"You are, I suppose, familiar with the range of a medium duty blaster?"

Stern nodded. "I've seen them operate," he admitted.

"Good." Don nodded. "This thing will outrange them a little. I'll have you in my sights all the way. Remember that, and don't do anything that might cause me to fear for Pete's safety."

The wardens spread out, to fan out before Stern and Pete. Acting the part of scouts before a column, they started across the wide lawn, toward the Throne Room.

Stern watched them for a moment, then took Pete's arm. Together, they walked down the long flight of steps. For a moment, they paused at the path, as ritual demanded, for a signal to continue.

Stern allowed his thoughts to race.

There was no question about it now, he thought. This boy would be upheld by the conclave--if he got before it. And if he were now sustained, an ex-regent named Stern would find himself in very grave trouble indeed.

This was much worse than that mob in Tonar City. He glanced toward the gate in the wall ahead and to his right.

Just beyond that door lay his yacht--and safety. If he could only figure out a way----

Across the lawn, a warden was making the signal for the advance. The way, then, was ritually clear. Stern stepped forward, still glancing toward that door.

They would pa.s.s within just a few meters of it. Now, where was that Michaels?

Suddenly, he realized he could never hope to get out his hidden weapon, find Michaels with it, and vaporize him. Not until the other had plenty of time to release a beam of his own. He shuddered, remembering the destruction that weapon had caused up in the Morek.

At this range, even the narrowest blaster beam would fan out enough to destroy a man's entire body. And that thing, whatever it was----

Suddenly, he smiled. That was it! It would spread out too much.

He flipped out the little khroal from its hiding place in his sleeve and placed it against Pete's back. With his other hand, he gripped the boy around the throat. Then he turned, seeking to locate Michaels. The fellow was out of sight.

Probably, Stern thought, he had remained in the shadow of the huge pillars of the porch--or even inside the Blue Palace itself.

His whole body itched. The man might fire without thinking! He raised his voice.

"Can you hear me, Michaels?"

He had been right. The answering voice came from the palace doorway.

"I can hear."

"Then listen carefully." Stern put all his persuasive power into his voice.

"I shall not harm this boy unless I am forced to, but I a.s.sure you that if I am interfered with, I'll not hesitate. From where you are, you can do nothing. Any blast you release will spread out to kill him as well as me. You realize that?"

"I can hear you." Don's voice was expressionless.

"And," added Stern loudly, "if I am struck or attacked, I will have time to release this khroal. This is also obvious, is it not?"

There was no answer. Stern frowned. What was the fellow doing? He drew a deep breath. He'd have to go through with it now, no matter what.

"I am going to the gate in the wall over there. Shortly after I go through that gate, I shall release this boy, and use a means of escape which I have prepared. You may watch me, of course, but make no effort to stop me--or this boy dies."

He paused again, waiting for an answer.

The wardens, he could see, had stopped and stood, undecided. None of them was close enough to be dangerous.

This, he thought with a surge of hope, was going to work out after all.

He turned his eyes for a swift glance at his captive.

Once at the yacht, he could release a bit of energy from the khroal.

This boy had destroyed all his careful plans. No, he decided, Pete Waern could not be allowed to live and enjoy those good things the palace afforded.

He tightened his grip about the boy's neck.

Don Michaels had strapped his sling on his arm. Now, he lay on the floor of the Blue Palace. Stern's head was centered in the scope and the cross hairs bobbed slowly about a spot just in front of the man's right ear.

"No question about it," Don told himself, "if Stern gets Pete through that gate, that'll be the end of Pete."