The Complete Dumarest, page 195
He knew! He had to know. For a moment relief made Vestaler giddy, so that he had to clutch at the table for support. The brooding, the regret was over. Now, at last, he could sleep easily at night instead of spending endless hours in self-recrimination. He should have known, suspected. But how to even imagine the possibility of such an event?
For a boy to act so! The very concept was incredible.
He said, fighting to control the tenor of his voice, “You know? He told you?” And then, as Dumarest remained silent, he shouted, “If you know where it is, man, tell us! I beg you!”
“I will,” said Dumarest. “The moment I reach the town.”
* * *
The price—always there seemed to be a price. First, his life and that of the woman. Now, the demand to leave the valley, to travel safely under escort to the city. To be taken to the field where ships landed and departed for other worlds.
A danger. A thing contrary to the rule—yet how could he refuse?
Vestaler felt that his world had overturned, conscious that he dealt with a man accustomed to things beyond his experience. One who had early learned to take advantage of every chance life had to offer, to gain any edge in order to survive.
“The Eye, Phal,” urged Usdon. “The Eye of the Past.”
The most sacred object they possessed. One which had been stolen and now, by an incredible series of events, could be regained.
If Leon hadn’t met Dumarest. If he hadn’t died. If Dumarest himself had died in the crash, or in the mountains—surely fate had guided him.
Or—had he lied? It was possible. Vestaler strained his mind, trying to remember if he had given any clue, any hint which could have been caught, inflated and bounced back as a boy would bounce a ball against a wall. The photograph? Three things, Dumarest had said. Had the photograph been originally one of them, the story changed as he dismissed its importance? Had Usdon spoken too quickly? Provided the essential clue?
Vestaler groped for the wine, filled a goblet with trembling hands, wine spilling as he lifted it to his mouth and gulped it down. How to be sure?
“The Eye, have you seen it?”
Dumarest remained silent.
“How large is it, then?” Usdon was more devious. “You can see that we need proof of what you say.”
“It isn’t very large—and you need no proof. I will deliver it once I reach the town.”
So it was on Shajok! Again Vestaler reached for the wine, halting his hand as it touched the jug. Now was the time for a clear head, and he regretted what he had already taken.
“So it is in the town,” he said. “You could tell us where it is and, when we have recovered it, you will be free to leave.”
“No.”
“You doubt my word?”
“It’s my life,” said Dumarest harshly. “Too many accidents could happen on the journey. We do it my way, or not at all.”
An impasse, but Usdon had a suggestion. “The woman, are you willing to leave her behind?”
“To join me later? Yes.”
A possible way out, yet would Dumarest really care if she joined him at all? A chance they had to take, and there would be armed men accompanying him with firm instructions to kill if he should attempt to elude them, or fail to do as he promised.
“Very well,” said Vestaler. “Let us make the arrangements.”
Iduna glanced at them as they left the house. She stood several yards away, facing the end of the valley away from the mountains.
She stiffened as Dumarest touched her.
“Earl! You promised—”
“To leave you alone and I shall. I’ll be leaving soon. You will follow in a few days.”
“Leaving? No, Earl, you can’t! You mustn’t leave me here alone!”
“You’ll be safe, Iduna.” His voice hardened at her expression. “There’s no help for it. It has to be this way.”
“You could wait another few days.”
“Wait for what?”
“For—” Her eyes moved from his face, focused on the sky, grew alight at what she saw. “For that, Earl. For that!”
A raft which dropped quickly to the ground, to settle close. A raft which held two figures dressed in flaming scarlet, one holding a laser, both adorned with the great seal of the Cyclan.
Chapter Fifteen
Hsi dominated the Council chamber. He stood like a living flame at the end of the table, the acolyte at his side. The cyber’s voice was a careful modulation, only the words held an implacable threat.
“I have a device buried within my body. Should my heart cease to beat a signal will be sent and received by those to whom I belong. They will know when and where I died. If it is in this valley, then total destruction will follow. Every man, woman and child, every plant, every animal will be burned to ash.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Vestaler. “You haven’t the power.”
“It would be a mistake for you to think that,” said Hsi evenly. “I have no concern for you in this valley—once I depart you may continue your life as before. My only interest lies in Earl Dumarest.”
And he had him, finally caught, unable to run, prevented from killing by his concern for others. A weakness which no cyber would be guilty of. Hsi felt the warm satisfaction of mental achievement, the only real pleasure he could know.
“You followed me.”
“Of course, Once you had been located on Tradum, your capture was inevitable. Did you really think you could continue to elude the Cyclan?”
“The boy,” said Dumarest. “You found him.”
“A simple prediction. He was an innocent, a dreamer who tried to get close to you by the use of a name. Nerth—there is no such place, but the name was close enough to another to arouse your interest. He must have picked up a rumor, or overheard you talking, the details are unimportant. The drug sold you by the apothecary was useless. A harmless sedative. Your use of the raft to gain access to the field was ingenious.”
Dumarest said, dryly, “I was in a hurry.”
“With reason. You would have been caught within the hour. As it was, Captain Shwarb knew what to do.”
Bribed, as every other captain had been bribed.
“You told the boy what ship I was on,” said Dumarest harshly. “He came aboard after I did. And you paid Dinok and the engineer to lie about his planet of origin. Leon had to be killed, of course—you red swine!”
“He was expendable.”
“You sent me to Shajok,” said Dumarest bitterly. “Offered me a bait I couldn’t refuse. I should have guessed.”
“Every man has a weakness,” said Hsi. “And no man can have the kind of luck forever which has saved you so often. The accident of chance and circumstance which, coupled with your quick thinking, has enabled you to escape the Cyclan until now.”
“Why did you wait so long. You know where I was headed. You could have had a reception committee waiting at the field.”
“Time was against us. Ships few and far between. And precautions were taken.”
“Yes,” said Dumarest. He looked at the woman. “What did they promise you, Iduna?”
“Earl?”
“At first I suspected Chaque. Your brother was too obvious and the Cyclan are never that. Chaque was a last-minute replacement. Then, when he was dying, he tried to tell me something about you. What happened? Did he see you using a radio in your tent one night? Spot something else when he was watching you undress? Threaten to betray you unless you saw things his way?”
“I don’t understand.” She looked at him, puzzled. “Earl, what are you saying? We were to be married. You know I wanted to be with you. You know that I love you.”
“Like hell you do!”
She cried out as his knife flashed, cut, the material of her blouse falling apart to reveal high, full breasts held and molded by delicate fabric. He cut again and drew the severed band from around her waist. A thin belt, barely an inch wide. Metal showed at the cut ends.
“A signal beacon.” Dumarest threw it to one side. “You knew help would be coming. That’s why you insisted on waiting. But you’re a bad actress, Iduna. You can’t pretend what you don’t feel. And you can’t mask what you do feel. That’s what made me certain.”
Her recoiling when he had touched her, her expression when he had described their future, the deliberate crudity and detailed anticipation.
“And Chaque?”
“He was an animal,” she snapped. “He wanted to use me.”
“And you suffered him. You had no choice. Why, Iduna? Did the Cyclan promise to heal your brother? Was Jalch that important to you?”
“He was insane! A fool!”
A man who, incredibly, had been right, but Dumarest didn’t mention that. Nor the kiss she had given him, the proof that she sometimes could act.
“What then?” he urged. “To give you the body of a man?” He caught the betraying flicker of her eyes. “So that was it. To rid you of the female flesh you wear. The body you hate. A pity, you could be beautiful.”
“Beautiful!” She almost spat, her face ugly, distorted by anger. “A thing to be used by men for their own, selfish pleasure. God, why was I born a woman? I can do anything a man can do, and do it better than most. Yet because I have this—” her hands touched her naked body, “I am considered to be an amusing novelty. A toy. Can you guess what it is like to hate what you are? I would do anything, anything to be a man.”
She was insane, he realized, like her brother obsessed. Yet, where he had been proven right she was demonstrably wrong. Her conviction of inferiority was a product of the paranoia which had turned her into a sexual cripple.
He said, cruelly, “Are you so sure they can deliver what they promised?”
“What?” Iduna glanced to where the cyber stood, tall, impassive, the acolyte watchful at his side. “They must! They will!”
“Why should they? You heard what Hsi said about Leon, the boy was expendable. And, now, so are you. You’ve done your job, guided him to me. From now on, you are unnecessary.”
His voice was a hammer beating at the weak fabric of her mind, feeding the paranoia she shared with Jalch.
“Can’t you see they have used you? Promised more than they can deliver? Played on your weakness? You will never be a man, Iduna. The life you hoped for is a dream.”
“No!”
“Tell her, Hsi. Be honest. A cyber has no need to lie. You can’t do what she wants and you know it. Tell her!”
Hsi said, evenly, “The thing can be done given time. You know that.”
“Time?” Iduna faced him, taking a step forward, madness in her eyes. An animal poised and tense, ready to spring, to tear and kill. “You lied,” she said thickly. “Damn you—you lied!”
“Ega!”
The acolyte fired as she sprang, the beam of the laser hitting her between the eyes, searing a hole through skin, flesh and bone into the brain beneath. One shot and then the acolyte was falling too, equally dead, the hilt of Dumarest’s thrown knife a red-rimmed protrusion in the socket of an eye.
“Earl! No!”
Dumarest ignored Usdon’s shout. As the blade left his hand he sprang, hand lifted, stiffened, falling to slam against the cyber’s temple. As the man slumped he tore at the wide sleeves of the robe, ripped free the laser he had known would be there.
“You’ve killed him!” Vestaler stared his horror, shocked by the sudden death which had entered the chamber. “The valley!”
“He isn’t dead. Now fetch Odo and hurry!”
* * *
Hsi stirred, sitting upright on the table on which he had fallen. The blow had barely stunned, and he felt no pain from the bruised flesh. For a moment he remained silent, looking at the two dead figures, at Dumarest now alone in the chamber.
“That was unnecessary,” he said. “You would not have been harmed.”
“No?”
“Your life is important to us, as you must know.”
“My life, yes,” admitted Dumarest. “But your definition of harm and mine are not the same. You could have burned my legs, my arms. Because my brain would remain undamaged, to you there would have been no harm. My brain and the knowledge it contains.”
“Knowledge we must have. It is ours, stolen from the Cyclan. The affinity twin was developed in our laboratory.”
“Old history,” said Dumarest. “Possession, now, is all that counts. I have it and you do not. That makes me the master.”
“A fool. Give us the correct sequence of the fifteen units and you will be rewarded. That I promise.”
“Money, a place in which to live, luxury, good food, men to obey me, security—for how long? No, Hsi. We both know that I remain alive only because you need me. Once you have the secret, I will follow others. Derai,” said Dumarest bitterly. “Kalin, Lallia—I have reason to hate the Cyclan.”
Hate, an emotion unknown to the cyber as were all others. Love, fear, pity, greed, ambition, hope—all things which weakened lesser men.
“Mistakes have been made,” admitted Hsi. “You were an unknown factor incorrectly assessed. Those who failed have paid the penalty. But I shall not fail. I have you and you cannot escape.”
“No?”
“You cannot kill me, your concern for the inhabitants of this valley prevents you. You cannot escape—my raft will respond only to my personal control. You could cripple me, but what will that serve? No, Dumarest, for you this is the end. The very people you protect will hold you prisoner in order to save their lives. Logic, surely, dictates that you accept the inevitable.”
The summation of known facts which, to the cyber, led to only one conclusion. Dumarest would not kill, he could not run, he could only wait. Soon now he would be held in a secret laboratory, his brain probed, the essential sequence of the units discovered.
“Logic,” said Dumarest. “The cold calculations of a mechanical mind. Well, perhaps you are right. We shall see.”
He moved down the chamber, turning, fumbling beneath his tunic, fingers busy at his belt. When he turned, he held something in his hand. A small metal tube, the walls thick, strong.
“The affinity twin,” he said. “You wanted it—you may have it.”
“The sequence—”
“Is something else.” Dumarest raised his voice. “Odo?”
He stumbled as he entered the chamber, Vestaler at his side, Usdon at his rear. Catching his balance to stand, he was drooling, eyes blank as he looked at the dead.
“Odo want,” he mumbled. “Give Odo something nice.”
Dried fruits which he stuffed into his mouth to stand chewing, spittle dribbling over his chin. Vestaler was uneasy.
“Earl, what do you intend to do? If you kill the cyber, we shall all die. If you do not—”
“He could have lied,” said Usdon. “Did he?”
“No.”
“Then, if he dies, we shall all be destroyed?”
“Yes.”
“So it is in your interest that I be kept alive,” said Hsi evenly. “More, that I be obeyed. Dumarest must be held fast, firmly bound and guarded. You will do that. He will be placed in my raft, together with men to watch him.” He rose from where he sat at the end of the table. “I shall leave immediately.”
Usdon glanced at Vestaler. “Master?”
“We have no choice,” said Vestaler bitterly. “I am sorry, Earl, but we have to do as the cyber says.”
Do as he had predicted, but the achievement was minor, the mental pleasure small.
Dumarest said, “Wait. There is another way.”
“The valley—”
“Will not be harmed. That I promise.” The metal tube parted in his hands, revealed two small syringes, one tipped with red, the other green. “Red,” he said, showing it to Hsi. “The submissive half of the affinity twin.”
“So?”
“You wanted it—here it is!”
Dumarest moved with a sudden release of energy, crossing the distance between them before the other realized what he intended, the cyber’s hand lifting, touching the syringe now buried in his neck.
“No! You—”
“Have solved the problem,” said Dumarest harshly. “Think about it, cyber—if you can!”
If the man could still think at all. His intelligence was trapped by the biological unit now nestling at the base of his cortex, totally divorced from the control of his body, the machinery of his mind. Aware, perhaps, as if in a dream. Lost in a timeless limbo.
“He isn’t dead,” said Dumarest as the others moved towards him. “Think of him as a cup waiting to be filled.” He moved again, this time towards Odo, the green syringe plunging into the idiot’s flesh. A moment and it was done.
“Odo!” Vestaler looked at him, the limp body supported by Dumarest’s arms. “I don’t understand,” he said blankly. “What has happened?”
“Odo is asleep,” said Dumarest. “You must take good care of him. He can be fed, washed and kept warm, but he can do nothing for himself.” He lowered the heavy body to the ground.
“And the cyber?”
Hsi looked at his hands. He turned them, peering, mouth open, slack in the skull-like contours of his face. His eyes were empty, vacuous, the blank windows of a deserted house. From his lips came a thin drone.
“Odo wants… give Odo… Odo good…”
The intelligence of the idiot now dominant in the body of the cyber. The transfer of ego which was the magic of the affinity twin. Dumarest handed him a scrap of dried fruit.
“What happened?” Usdon was baffled. “I saw—what happened?”
“They changed,” said Vestaler. “The cyber became Odo. Is Odo. Earl!”
Dumarest caught the note of fear, recognized its cause.
“You have nothing to worry about,” he said. “Hsi’s body is alive and well. No signal will be sent and no retribution turned against you. I’ll take him with me when I leave in his raft. The body of the acolyte will be dumped in the wilderness.”
Dumped, but his robe retained. Wearing it Dumarest would accompany the apparent cyber to the city, take passage on a vessel, leave the pathetic creature on some far world. He would be found, taken care of—the Cyclan looked after its own.
But before that happened Dumarest would have vanished, moved on, losing himself in the infinity of space.
