Pain filtered over van Alen's face. He stared sadly at Kesley for a moment, with the timeless expression in his eyes that Kesley knew he, himself, would one day acquire. "You still don't understand," van Alen said huskily, "why that Barrier is up." "No. I don't." "You've dealt with three Immortals: Winslow, Miguel, me. What do we have in common?" van Alen demanded suddenly. Startled, Kesley stopped to think of their common characteristics. _Nothing in common_, he nearly answered. Then he saw he was wrong. Physical vitality. Long life. These things were obvious. The deepness of the eyes. Constant for all three. And a deepness of personality, a strange complexity of behavior, a pattern of actions that appeared to be based on random selection. Yes, that was it. "You're unpredictable," Kesley said. "One never knows what to expect from you. It's as if you act without motivation sometimes." "It seems that way, doesn't it? But look: you're lying in a tub of water, completely submerged. A hand suddenly breaks the surface of the water and plunges a knife into you. All you see is the hand; for all the evidence you have, that's all there is--just a hand. "It's completely unmotivated, isn't it? Why would a mere _hand_ want to murder you? No reason at all. But suppose that hand is attached to the arm of your most deadly enemy? It's not so unmotivated then, is it?" "You mean we only see segments of events; you see the entire happening. That it?" "It comes with long life. You'll have it too," van Alen said. "It's a curse. You'll be living in three dimensions and everyone else in two. And no one will ever manage to understand you fully except another one like you." "You're stalling. The Barrier," Kesley prodded. "The Barrier. I put that up out of fear." Van Alen's strong head drooped; his ancient eyes looked bleak. "I'm safe, secure down here. We've continued to progress. No bombs were dropped on Antarctica. I don't want any bombs coming down." "But there won't be! There can't be! They've virtually reverted to a pre-mechanical culture in the Twelve Empires. They've got as much chance of being able to build bombs as you do of sprouting wings." A new thought occurred to Kesley. "When did you come to Antarctica? You said you'd only been ruling three hundred sixty-odd years. The Blast was more than four hundred years ago." Van Alen seemed to be trembling. "I came to Antarctica in 2164, established control, and erected the barrier the following year." His voice wavered. "Do you want the rest of it?" "I don't need it." Kesley jabbed a forefinger at the Duke. "You never told me this, but now I understand. 2162--that's the year the Twelve Dukes met and divided up the world, all except Antarctica. Right?" "Yes," van Alen said tonelessly. "Okay. In 2162, there were twelve Empires--and _thirteen Immortals_! You were the odd man out!"