At the Emperor's next attack, Dennis parried weakly but effectively, gaining his freedom so that he and the creature now stood parallel to the line of the proscenium. They stood there for only a moment.
~* ~
THE EMPEROR
You fight like an old woman. Is this the best that your dancing master could teach you?
It won't work. Your plot won't work.
It will.
They see me, they see you. They know who I am now.
Now they do. Yes…
~* ~
"Dan, I can hardly tell them apart, it's wonderful."
Patty Munro clutched her husband's arm, her attention glued to the duel on the stage. As far as she was concerned, the whole night had been wonderful. She had never expected to see so many celebrities in one place, and here she was sitting among them. Thank God she had gone out and bought a new dress for the occasion. At first she had felt like a housewife amidst the glitterati, but that feeling had been quickly replaced by awe, as she brushed shoulders with the famous, recognized faces she had seen before only on the television screen or in the movies.
The only stage shows Patty Munro had seen, short of her high school's productions of Damn Yankees and Arsenic and Old Lace, were a local dinner theatre's truncated version of Sweeney Todd and a touring company of Cats in Philadelphia, to which Dan had taken her for their fifteenth wedding anniversary. She had loved it, but it hadn't had all the dialogue that A Private Empire had.
Patty, to give her credit, had been very uncritical of Dennis Hamilton's performance. At intermission, when Dan had mentioned that the Emperor Frederick seemed far less imperial toward the end of the act, Patty said, "It's no wonder. After what you've told me, I'm sure he had a lot on his mind. I don't know how he can remember all those lines in the first place."
Now she watched the duel with intense interest. The seats, she thought, were wonderful – second row of the loge, so that the entire stage was visible, and Patty's view was further aided by the shortness of the woman in front of her, who Patty knew she had seen in a TV movie, but couldn't remember which.
"Now this is good," she whispered to Dan. "I mean, it seems so real right now. Oh!"
This last exclamation was produced by a savage move on the part of the actor playing Kronstein's part. He pressed Frederick back with a rapid series of feints and attacks which Frederick seemed scarcely to be able to parry…
~* ~
THE EMPEROR
So many dead because of what you have created, Dennis. And more now Good reasons for me, Dennis Hamilton, to kill you, the imposter. ..
More? More dead?
The servant – Kipp…
(He attacks, backing DENNIS toward the stage right wings.) Kronstein – your fellow player…
(He attacks again.)
And your dancing master – the one who liked men…
~* ~
Patty Munro gasped as Kronstein closed with Frederick, grasping his sword arm, throwing them both off balance so that they toppled together out of sight behind one of the side flats that, Patty remembered, were called legs, from when she was in the Damn Yankees stage crew.
"Oh God," she whispered to her husband. "Now I'll never be able to tell them apart…”
~* ~
(DENNIS and THE EMPEROR struggle offstage, unseen by all, then move toward the stage again. When they reappear, the attitudes and expressions of both are identical – weary, wary, and determined. They circle each other slowly.)
Now they don't know who we are. You could be me. I could be you. And I will be, because I have all your memories too. It will be all mine now, as soon as I kill you. All mine – your life, your Ann…
(DENNIS attacks, driving THE EMPEROR back. THE EMPEROR parries, and evades him.)
THE EMPEROR
Still some emotion left. All the better. The savage attacker. The maniac. And me, Dennis Hamilton, killing him out of self-defense.
(THE EMPEROR advances.)
~* ~
"What the hell is going on down there?" John Steinberg roared, pushing open the door of the control booth.
"I don't know, John," Curt said softly. "I've just about given up all hope. The ship is sinking, and it's up to those two on the stage to bail it out. I don't know who's going to quit first – them or Dex."
"Have they stuck to any of the original moves?"
"Not a one. I don't know what the hell Drummond thinks he's doing – you see that bit where he took Dennis offstage? Even I don't know who's who anymore."
"Who's who…” Steinberg went pale. "My dear God."
"What?" said Curt, then realized the possibilities himself, far worse than two actors going up on their lines and moves.
Steinberg took a cased pair of opera glasses from his jacket pocket, snapped them open, and peered down at the stage. After a moment he handed them to Curt. "That's not Wallace Drummond," Steinberg said dully. "It's Dennis. Both of them are Dennis."
Curt lowered the glasses. "What shall I do, John? Lower the curtain?"
Steinberg shook his head. It was the first time that Curt had seen him totally at a loss. "No, I… I don't know… If it's real, it could distract Dennis… We should contact security, have them stop it… I'll… I'll go downstairs, get help." He left the booth as if in a daze, and Curt watched the duel continue, listened to the music rage on.
~* ~
In the loge, Dan Munro watched too, watched as the two men fought, saw one of them lunge at the other, saw a sleeve rip and blood flow, too real to be artifice, and slowly began to understand.
"It's him," he said to himself, even though others heard. "One of them is him."
He stood up then, pushed his way past the legs and knees of the others in the row. But he had a long way to go, up the loge stairs, down a ramp, through the mezzanine lobby, down the curving staircase, through the inner lobby, and all the way to the stage.
By the time he would arrive there, it would all be over.
THE EMPEROR
Does it hurt, Dennis? The cut? I feel your pain, your anger. I adore them. They feed me. But don't feel too much, Dennis. Let me take you slowly…
(THE EMPEROR lowers his guard. It is a subtly disdainful move, but enough of a breach for DENNIS to thrust his saber, wounding THE EMPEROR in his left arm.)
THE EMPEROR
“If you prick us, do we not bleed?" See how human I have become? And we are identical again! Triumph, tragedy, I take them all in, Dennis. You have done your worst. It is time to die. And to let me be born. Farewell, my father.
(THE EMPEROR lifts his saber.)
From the moment the Emperor and Dennis raised their weapons against one another, scarcely two minutes had passed. They were minutes filled with horror for Ann Deems. From the start she had known that it was the Emperor rather than Wallace Drummond on the stage with Dennis. There was no other explanation. Still, she only watched, knowing that Dennis had to meet his nemesis on his own, had to claim his own soul with whatever means were available – with a sword, if it came to that.
But then they had disappeared from sight, and when, a moment later, they had returned to the stage, they were so alike that she could not tell them apart. Blood flowed then, on both sides, and she heard Terri gasp beside her.