The knife had been whisked from his hand the instant the beam had shot forth. Van Alen turned, easily extricating his imprisoned arm from Kesley's numbed grasp. His fist crashed into Kesley's stomach, rocking him backward. _Cheated!_ Kesley thought wildly. He recalled an earlier, forgotten resolution never to have dealings with Dukes again. Mechanically he raised a fist to defend himself. Van Alen's attack drove through, and blows thudded against his face and chest. He tried to fight back; he hit van Alen glancingly on the shoulder, struck for his midsection. Another blow sent him staggering away. Desperately Kesley leaped forward and flung himself on van Alen. They tumbled to the floor, rolled over several times, once with Kesley on top. Then van Alen began to get the upper hand. The Immortal was fantastically strong. He rose to a sitting position atop Kesley, gripping both of Kesley's hands in one of his. He wiped flecks of perspiration from his chin and dabbed at the tiny cut on his throat. "Sorry, Dale. In five hundred years I've learned a few tricks. That was a teleport beam; your knife's now somewhere in the main routing depot of my post office." Kesley muttered a harsh, wordless curse. Then he said: "You'll kill me now, I suppose." "For reacting the way I expected you would? Nonsense." Van Alen rolled off Kesley and stood up. Reaching to his desk, he pressed a buzzer and said, "Admit Daveen." "Why do you want _him_?" Kesley asked. "You'll see." The panel glided open and Daveen stepped through, walking with uncanny assurance. "Three," van Alen said. Daveen began to play the same haunting melody he had played before. Kesley, lying on the floor, waited uncertainly for the moment when-- "_Three_," Daveen said. One crushing fact rolled down on Kesley like a shock wave. _One_ fact. He waited while its implications shuddered through him like subharmonics from Daveen's music-maker. His dazed mind evaluated the new datum. "Of course," he said finally, standing up. "Why else would you have gone to Iowa Province looking for me? Why else would you be so interested in my whereabouts?" "You see now?" van Alen asked. "I see part of it. I see that _yours_ is the line of Immortals that breeds true, since I'm your son." "I thought you would have guessed that when Daveen rolled back the very first layer of fog," van Alen said. "You didn't. But now you know _who_ you are." "And why--why--" "Four," van Alen ordered. "_Four!_" Daveen cried. And Kesley began to understand. XVI "You know, now?" van Alen asked. Kesley smiled wanly. "This isn't the first time we've had this discussion, then." "No. The last time, though, you had no knife." "If I had known who you were, I'd never--" "Certainly," van Alen said. "You're not to be blamed." "May I go?" Daveen interrupted suddenly. Van Alen nodded. "Of course, Daveen. You've done splendidly."