He fingered his instrument gently; a mocking note crept forth. Kesley remained silent in thought for a moment.
Then he nodded. "You're right. The Dukes see to it that nothing changes, that no progress is ever made. The Twelve Empires don't want any part of Antarctica, and Antarctica doesn't want any part of them."
Antarctica's Duke, for one reason or another, had raised an impregnable wall around his fantastic paradise. The Twelve Dukes of the war-blasted world had erected their own barriers. But who was to say those barriers could not be thrown down again? There was a fourteenth Immortal. And he was free to act.
Ten minutes ago such thoughts would have been nothing more than bravado. Now, Kesley knew, he held power in his hands.
"Daveen?"
"Yes?"
"I'm going to leave. I'm going to go looking for the Duke. Is there anything else you want to tell me, before I go?"
A calm smile spread over the tired face. "Not now," Daveen said.
Another panel in the wall opened as if at Kesley's request, and without hesitating he stepped through. He found himself in a small rectangular enclosure whose luminescent walls were inlaid with tiles of a glowing green plastic.