And this brought him to the young man. Aratap had left him for last because he was the cleverest of the lot. But he was young, and young people were often not dangerous. They lacked patience.
Biron spoke first, saying, "How did you follow us? Was he working with you?"
"The Autarch? Not in this case. I believe the poor fellow was trying to play both sides of the game, with the usual success of the unskillful."
Hinrik interrupted, with an incongruously childish eagerness, "The Tyranni have an invention that follows ships through hyperspace."
Aratap turned sharply. "If Your Excellency will refrain from interrupting, I would be obliged," and Hinrik cringed.
It really didn't matter. None of these four would be dangerous hereafter, but he had no desire to decrease by even one any of the uncertainties in the young man's mind.
Biron said, "Now, look, let's have facts, or nothing. You don't have us here because you love us. Why aren't we on the way back to Tyrann with the others? It's that you don't know how to go about killing us. Two of us are Hinriads. I am a Widemos. Rizzett is a well-known officer of the Linganian fleet. And that fifth one you have, your own pet coward and traitor, is still Autarch of Lingane. You can't kill any of us without stinking up the Kingdoms from Tyrann to the edge of the Nebula itself. You've got to try to make some sort of bargain with us, because there's nothing else you can do."
Aratap said, "You are not altogether wrong. Let me weave a pattern for you. We followed you, no matter how. You may disregard, I think, the Director's overactive imagination. You paused near three stars without landing on any planet. You came to a fourth and found a planet to land on. There we landed with you, watched, waited. We thought there might be something to wait for and we were right. You quarreled with the Autarch and both of you broadcast without limitation. That had been arranged by you for your own purposes, I know, but it suited our purpose as well. We overheard.
"The Autarch said that only one last intra-nebular planet remained to be visited and that it must be the rebellion world. This is interesting, you see. A rebellion world. You know, my curiosity is aroused. Where would that fifth and last planet be located?"
He let the silence last. He took a seat and watched them dispassionately-first one, then another.
Biron said, "There is no rebellion world."
"You were looking for nothing, then?"
"We were looking for nothing."
"You are being ridiculous."
Biron shrugged wearily. "You are yourself ridiculous if you expect more of an answer."
Aratap said, "Observe that this rebellion world must be the center of the octopus. To find it is my only purpose in keeping you alive. You each have something to gain. My lady, I might free you of your marriage. My Lord Gillbret, we might establish a laboratory for you, let you work undisturbed. Yes, we know more of you than you think." (Aratap turned away hastily. The man's face was working. He might weep and that would be unpleasant.) "Colonel Rizzett, you will be saved the humiliation of court-martial and the certainty of conviction and the ridicule and loss of reputation that would go with it. You, Biron Farrill, would be Rancher of Widemos again. In your case, we might even reverse the conviction of your father."
"And bring him back to life?"
"And restore his honor."
"His honor," said Biron, "rests in the very actions that led to his conviction and death. It is beyond your power to add to or detract from it."
Aratap said, "One of you four will tell me where to find this world you seek. One of you will be sensible. He will gain, whichever one it is, what I have promised. The rest of you will be married, imprisoned, executed-whatever will be worst for you. I warn you, I can be sadistic if I must be."
He waited a moment. "Which one will it be? If you don't speak, the one next to you will. You will have lost everything and I will still have the information I want."
Biron said, "It's no use. You're setting this up so carefully, and yet it won't help you. There is no rebellion world."
"The Autarch says there is."
"Then ask the Autarch your question."
Aratap frowned. The young man was carrying the bluff forward past the point of reason.
He said, "My own inclination is to deal with one of you."
"Yet you have dealt with the Autarch in the past. Do so again. There is nothing you can sell to us that we are willing to buy from you." Biron looked about him. "Right?"
Artemisia crept closer to him and her hand folded slowly about his elbow. Rizzett nodded curtly and Gillbret muttered, "Right!" in a breathless manner.
"You have decided," said Aratap, and put his finger on the correct knob.
The Autarch's right wrist was immobilized in a light metal sheath, which was held magnetically tight to the metal band about his abdomen. The left side of his face was swollen and blue with bruise except for a ragged, force-healed scar that seamed it redly. He stood before them without moving after that first wrench which had freed his good arm from the grip of the armed guard at his side.
"What do you want?"
"I will tell you in a moment," said Aratap. "First, I want you to consider your audience. See whom we have here. There is the young man, for instance, whom you planned death for, yet who lived long enough to cripple you and destroy your plans, although you were an Autarch and he was an exile."
It was difficult to tell whether a flush had entered the Autarch's mangled face. There was no single muscle motion upon it.
Aratap did not look for one. He went on quietly, almost indifferently, "This is Gillbret oth Hinriad, who saved the young man's life and brought him to you. This is the Lady Artemisia, whom, I am told, you courted in your most charming manner and who betrayed you, nevertheless, for love of the youngster. This is Colonel Rizzett, your most trusted military aide, who also ended by betraying you. What do you owe these people, Autarch?"