"Thank you, sire," said the Singer gravely. Bowing, the blind man backed unerringly out into the adjoining elevator. Van Alen turned back to Kesley. "You remember, now, the circumstances under which we last met in this room?" "Yes," Kesley said. "I came to you--to ask you to abdicate in my favor, Father. You refused." "And you ran away." "What else could I do? You were Immortal; I was twenty-three, and you refused to leave the throne. I thought you were wrong in your ways." "Twenty-three--and you wanted to rule," van Alen repeated reflectively. "Now, of course, you have the wisdom of mature years. Why, you must be nearly thirty, old man!" "Twenty-eight. And I'm still aging. What was it Stohrbach said, your geneticist? That I'll continue to age until about the age of thirty and then stop?" "Thirty-five. You haven't reached full maturity yet." "But my cells show the regenerative pattern of an Immortal." Kesley let the other newly-awakened memories filter through his mind. "I left you," he said. "Angrily. I had myself teleported through your Barrier and into North America, where I intended to live under an assumed name and work for the overthrow of Winslow--as a start." "Is that it?" van Alen asked. "I was never sure of your plan." Kesley nodded. "I intended gradually to seize the Twelve Empires--and then ask you to lower your force-screen." Van Alen smiled slowly. "Worthy of a Duke, son. But it didn't work. One of Winslow's mutant telepaths--now dead and out of circulation, happily--discovered your true identity. Word traveled fast among the Twelve Dukes that I had had a son who bore the Immortal traits. They resolved to kill you, hoping I would never have another. And you were caught, there in Winslow's own home yard. It was Daveen who rescued you. The rest you've already relearned." Kesley nodded, calmly now. "I'm back home now, Father." "At last. Daveen hid you so well I thought we'd never find you. Finally I decided to go myself. I found you--and lost you again." "You're missing my point," Kesley said sharply. "I'm _back home_." "And?" "And I haven't changed my ideas." Van Alen slipped the electrostimulator into his hand once again and let the minute voltage caress his nerves. "So?" he said quizzically. "I still feel the force-screen ought to come down." Van Alen shook his head frowningly. "You're not the green boy you were when you left, you know. You've seen the courts of the Dukes; you've worked on a farm. You know what it is to flee for your life." "And I've seen Mutie City and the Colony and Wiener," Kesley added. "I've really been around." "And?" "And I think the world's rotten at the core! I think _you_ can save it--if you'll only lift your damned Barrier and give what you have here to the rest of the world!"