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delusions?
    Apparently, it was.
    Rod leaned back on one hip, folding his arms. "Let me get this straight. You claim that you're Rod Gallowglass?"
    "The very same." The doppelganger was looking wary now. "And who do you think you are?"
    "Rod Gallowglass."
    But the doppelganger didn't squawk in outrage. He stood quietly, brooding—which sent a chill shivering up Rod's spine; it was exactly what he would have done, at this juncture. What he had done, in fact.
    Rod shook himself back into gear. Denial hadn't worked, so it was time for thinking. Why not?
    "There's two of us," the doppelganger pointed out.
    "Sh! Don't tell!" Rod glanced around furtively. "They'd banish us, you know."
    "Banish us?" The doppelganger stared. "Who?"
    "The sane people."
    "You know some?"
    "Well, yes, I think so," Rod admitted. "And just in case I don't, there's always my touchstone, Fess."
    "Mv touchstone." But the doppelganger's heart wasn't in it any more; he was too busy studying the great black robot-horse. "Do you see two of us, old boy?"
    "There is only one of you, Rod."
    Rod shuddered—Fess had heard the doppelganger!
    "But you do seem to be talking to yourself," the robot amplified. "A fascinating conversation, no doubt." No doubt? But Rod didn't stop to ask. "We could try to figure out which one of us is real…"
    "Yeah, and after that, we can try to figure out what 'real' means." The doppelganger's lip curled. "Can't you think of something a little more productive?"
    "Well," Rod said, "the sensible thing is for us to join forces. I mean, if we can't tell ourselves apart, we Page 26
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    should certainly make one hell of a unit."
    "Makes sense," the doppelganger said judiciously. "But how are we going to coordinate?"
    "Very easily, I should think. You take the left side, and I'll take the right." The doppelganger seemed dubious. "How come you're willing to take the right?"
    "I just see you as sinister, I guess. Try it the other way—I'll be glad to have you as my squire."
    " Mebe your squire? You can be my squire!"
    "What, and try to live with your idea of tactics? I'd die first! No, amend that—I'd die trying."
    "Not much faith in yourself, have you?" the doppelganger snorted. That brought Rod up short. He thought about it for a minute, but didn't succeed. "Afraid not. You're obviously left."
    "And will be in everything, clunkhead! You'd better take me up on my offer, and be my squire!"
    "Not if you're me, bucko! If I want dumb ideas, I can make up my own!"
    "Ridiculous," the doppelganger snapped. "At least / trust my own instincts!"
    "Oh, yeah? How about mine?"
    "Of course not!"
    "Then you can't trust your own."
    The doppelganger started to answer, shoaled on the logic, and froze with his mouth open. After a few moments, he closed his jaw and nodded. "Point to you. How's it feel to be one horn of a dilemma?"
    "Makes me feel like wanting to blow," Rod admitted.
    "Not a bad idea." The doppelganger turned away, brushing past Rod and hurrying on down the trail.
    "Let's go."
    Rod lifted his head with a smile. "Yeah. Not a bad idea is right." He jumped to catch up. As they plodded along through the snow with Fess behind, Rod offered, "This is going to get a little confusing. What're we going to call each other?"
    "How about, 'Hey, you'?"
    "Well, it certainly beats 'Hey, me.' Look, I could be Rod, and you…"
    "Hold it left there." The doppelganger stopped, holding out a hand, palm up. "/ could be 'Rod.' "
    "I see your point." Rod frowned. "Won't work, will it? Well, we have twenty middle names—can't we Page 27
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    manage something with that?"
    The doppelganger nodded. "Nice idea. Any preference?"
    "Yeah." Rod grinned. "I'll be 'Rod,' and you can be 'Rodney.' " The doppelganger winced. "You know I always hated that name!"
    "But you did like your ancestor's version."
    "True," the doppelganger