"Nobility sets one apart. To one's lessers, one must ensure that one's superiority is always on display. To one's peers, one must never show weakness." Otto, Pfalzgraf of the Vraska-aum-Iskar Palatinate, sat back wearily and sighed.

 

In the chair to his left, his exact double watched him quietly over steepled fingers, confident he would come to the point eventually. Meanwhile, the clacking of the train lent a measured pace to the silence, we-will-get-there-when-we-get-there, repeating itself over and over but assuredly not forever.

 

The Graf sipped his drink, then put it down and went on. "It's strange that, in all the world, the only man I can speak to frankly of this is you."

 

The second man, his match from chinless Burnside beard to gold collar facings, raised an eyebrow. The silence persisted, and he eventually observed with some asperity, "You don't seem to be speaking, frankly or no."

 

The true Otto's face flushed. Abruptly, he laughed. "I don't, do I? It's not something to talk of easily. Your life is dedicated to being my public face, going places I dare not, taking risks on my behalf. You've spent years training, undergone countless surgeries, endured memory injections, been briefed on every aspect of my life, however private. Whenever one of us is injured we both bear the scar. You're closer than a brother, and yet..."

 

The ersatz Otto remarked, "I'll have to know eventually. Might as well be now."

 

"Indeed." The Graf closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, then said, "My wife is pregnant."

 

His double was startled. "But you haven't been home in months!"

 

"I haven't. That's the trouble." Otto loosed a dark chuckle. "You know my military duties have kept me at the front lines without pause. Someone's responsible, and it's not me."

 

"You're certain?"

 

"Her auto-doc is. Robot brains are fallible, but they don't make mistakes of that nature."

 

His decoy watched him narrowly. "It wasn't me, if that's what you were thinking."

 

Otto waved that aside. "No, you were sterilized." His double winced; Otto pressed on, unheeding. "I don't have any suspects in particular, none save her — but I can't trust anyone. In time, a DNA test will resolve the issue. But I'd prefer it never came out. The mere thought of such a scandal..."

 

The false Otto eyed him sideways. "What's your alternative? You could never acknowledge someone else's child, not as heir!"

 

"No." Otto sighed. "She'll need to be done away with. That's why I'm here. I need you to arrange it."

 

"But surely — !"

 

"There's no one else, and certainly none I trust more. You're the only man who could reliably penetrate security. Also, you've access to Dr. Kuhlwicz's diabolical new invention, to make her disappear without trace, and see it's blamed on our enemies." He paused. "Where is it, by the way?"

 

"Baggage car," the decoy lied.

 

Otto nodded absently. "I couldn't possibly... I love her, you know. Always have. But the good of the nation..."

 

"Yes. I see." The other man sighed. "All right. I'll take care of it — discreetly."

 

A tap came at the carriage door.

 

"We mustn't be seen together!"

 

"I'll hide. No living soul knows I'm here, none but you," said Otto to his doppelganger.

 

"Very well. That cabinet is the emergency escape. It will let you down opposite the next station. Get in, and when we've stopped, press the button."

 

"Good man." Otto got in, then reached out to shake his double's hand. "I'm glad I can trust you with this."

 

If you only knew, thought the double.

 

The train came to a stop, and a bright flash of light showed briefly from the cabinet. The rapping at the door repeated, and the ersatz Otto opened it to let his visitor in.

 

No sooner did the door close than she leapt into his arms and kissed him passionately. It was the Gravina, Otto's wife.

 

"You'll never guess my news!" she gushed.

 

"You're pregnant, it seems," he said, setting her down in favor of his drink.

 

"Oh, but you're upset! I did it for us, my dearest, so we can finally escape the grip of that vicious Otto!"

 

"Haven't you ever heard of DNA, you little fool?" the double snapped. "You've doomed yourself!"

 

"Wrong! I was ever so clever," she said, laughing. "I went secretly to the front disguised as a — a camp follower. Getting in to Otto was easy, and he never guessed it was me! I arranged for hormone shots just before, to make absolutely sure, and it worked! Oh, do be happy. My duty to the Republic is to produce an heir, and that's now done. We're both free!"

 

He turned to look at her. "Oh, indeed?" he asked coldly.

 

"Well, all we need do now is... is somehow..."

 

"Do away with the Pfalzgraf?" He chuckled darkly. "The single best-protected man in the nation, the reason for my very existence?"

 

"Don't pretend you haven't already figured out a way," pouted his not-wife.

 

"I have, but it's for the perfect opportunity, not to be rushed into." He glowered. "You've put us into a pretty pickle, my dear. We'll have to silence your escort."

 

"Oh, no! I escaped my guards. Nobody knows I'm here."

 

"Well." He gnawed on his moustache, then nodded decisively. "Then it can be done. We're slowing again. Quick: in here. Press this button and it will let you off opposite the station."

 

The train stopped and, again, there was a brief flash of light. The double permitted himself a smile. Both of the people he hated most had, by their own action, disintegrated themselves, their dust scattered over miles of track. It was finally done!

 

His eyes danced merrily as, behind them, a mad voice gibbered, one he had suffered since the day he first beheld another's face in his mirror. How dare she betray me with him, of all people! How dare they do this to me? They have no right! I am the Pfalzgraf Otto!