"Today, in the three hundred sixty-second year of my rule, I am giving up my throne.
"I turn it over to the man named Dale Kesley—like myself an Immortal. He will rule you wisely and well, I am sure, and will lead you to greatnesses I never dared to attain.
"Thank you."
Van Alen shut the machine off. "There," he said. "When I touch the spiral lever, the message will be beamed on wide circuit to the entire continent. The robots will shift allegiance to you at once; the place will be yours."
"Touch the lever," Kesley said hoarsely.
Van Alen reached out—but as he nudged the control, a bright green beam licked out suddenly. Acting instinctively, Kesley jabbed at the Duke's throat with the knife.
There was no knife.
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.