by E. C. Tubb
"One of Lopakhin's creations." Toyanna stood beside him, the sheen of her silver hair making a brighter spot on the plaque. "He's crude and coarse and drinks too much but there's magic in him. As I think there is in you, Earl. Give me your hand."
"A reading?"
"You mock?" For a moment anger shone in her eyes then, smiling, she shrugged. "I forgot. A man like you needs always to be cautious but I mean you no harm."
"And can do little good." Dumarest was blunt. "The past I know and the future can take care of itself. I've no wish to listen to mumbled warnings of dire events which might or might not happen. Things never specified but only hinted at. Thank you for the offer, my lady, but this isn't carnival and I'm no gull."
"You think you know my trade?"
"I can guess."
"Because I asked for your hand?" She held out her own. "Take it. Does that make you a reader of palms?"
There was strength in the hand despite its thinness, matching the lithe grace of her body, the near-gaunt appearance of her face. Things Dumarest noted as he saw her eyes, watchful, sharp with calculation. A woman, he guessed, who had never been young but always too adult for her years. A trait which rarely yielded happiness.
His fingers touched her flesh, traced lines, paused as he frowned, moved on as, nodding, he released his breath.
"Your past is filled with shadows, my lady. Times of distress and hardship when, too often, you had to suffer the unthinking folly of others. None appreciated your sensitivity and you were hurt by their indifference. You have known rejection, scorn, contempt, anger. Often you have been misunderstood and the love you hold within you cries for recognition."
She said, dryly, "But it will come together with the man of my dreams. There will be recognition of worth and wealth and a long journey. A good try, Earl, but there could have been more detail. No reading should be too fast. You needed to pause, to ask questions in a casual manner, to incorporate the answers in later remarks. Yet, if you were put to it, you would make out."
Smiling, he released her hand. "Is that your professional opinion?"
"Hardly that." She returned his smile. "Hilary is the expert."
"But you've worked carnival?"
"As a healer, yes." She drew in her breath and met his eyes. "Herbs, unguents, lotions, philtres, tablets, pills; all harmless and most useless but the advice was something else. As was the treatment I gave at times. I had the knack for it. I could look at a client and tell if all was well. Sometimes I could be precise as to what was wrong and even take steps to cure it. Certainly I could warn against it. Do you believe that coming events can cast their shadow before them?"
"Fortune telling?"
"A man has a tumor growing in his brain. The signs are there for those with the skill to see. To state that, shortly, he will go mad and die is not to guess at the future but to know it. To be certain of it. The coming event has cast its shadow. You see?"
Dumarest nodded. "Do you still sell pills?"
"Not exactly but I do prescribe them when necessary." Her eyes held the dancing glints of amusement. "We should have been introduced, Earl. I am Pia Toyanna, Doctor of Medicine, Doctor of Psychology, of Radionic Healing and Psionic Manipulation." She added, casually, "I'm also a surgeon."
One who had made Dumarest foolish. He admitted it and she shook her head, smiling.
"No, Earl, you made a wrong conclusion but it wasn't so far out. Now, may I take your hand?" She held it clasped in her own, not looking at him, her eyes half-closed as if she strained to see things beyond the normal range of vision. Then, sighing, she released his hand. "Strong," she said. "In you there is an incredible determination to survive. I guessed as much when I learned you were coming and-"
"You knew I was coming here?"
"Yes." She recoiled a little from the savage intensity of his stare. "Yes, I did, a day or two ago."
"How?"
"I was told. Tama told me. It was after visitors had come and they had talked and he told me the news. About you coming and the deaths of the Karroum. They were full of it." Her eyes widened a little as she looked into his own. "Did you have anything to do with it, Earl? Is that why you chose to walk from the other side of the mountain?"
"Did Chenault tell you that too?"
"Of course. Me and others-we've been expecting you. But did you have anything to do with the deaths of the Karroum?"
He said, tightly, "Why ask? If you know so much you know the answer to that too. Anyway, what does it matter?"
"It matters." She was bleak. "The rule of the Karroum falls to Mirza Annette. A bitch, Earl. One who believes in revenge."
Chapter Three
In her was steel, granite, the biting chill of winter ice. Things Vaclav recognized as she was ushered into his office to stand glowering before his desk. A tall, broad-shouldered woman in her late middle age, her graying hair cut short to frame a harsh, uncompromising face. Her eyes, palely blue, were sunken beneath thick brows. Her nose was a jutting promontory dominating a thin-lipped mouth. Her hands, her chin, the column of her throat belied the femininity of breasts, hips and buttocks.
Without preamble she snapped, "You know who I am?"
"Of course." Vaclav gestured to a chair and waited until she had settled herself. "It is an honor to meet the Lady Mirza Annette Karroum."
"You know why I'm here?"
"To inquire about the unfortunate incident which took place at the Crystal Falls. I assure you that, as Chief Guardian of Lychen, I made the most thorough investigation. Would you care for some refreshment? Tisane? Coffee? Wine?"
"Coffee."
"With brandy?" He reached for the intercom as she shook her head and gave the order. "While we are waiting, my lady, allow me to offer my condolences on the recent loss your House has suffered. The seventh lord was too young to die."
"When is too young?" Impatient anger edged her voice. "Hedren Anao Nossak was a fool. It would have been better for all had he died at birth. As it was he lived long enough to display his weakness, and his death has caused me serious inconvenience. Alone that was nothing but his uncle died with him and I have been forced to take on the leadership of the House of Karroum. As such I have a duty. None may harm a Karroum and escape the penalty."
"I understand, my lady."
"Do you?" Her tone held contempt. "I doubt it. Honor is instilled with the mother's milk, not adopted in later years to be worn as a garment. One too easily set aside for the sake of compromise or expediency. I'm sick of hearing such words. The path of honor is clear-cut, direct, inarguable. A life for a life! A hurt for a hurt! The creed of the Karroum and, by God, while I rule we'll abide by it!"
A fanatic and a dangerous one. Vaclav wondered what she had been doing in her years away from Lychen. Farming somewhere on a hostile world, he guessed, in the Burdinnion such were plentiful. Now, looking at her, sensing the stubborn pride radiating from her, he wished she had stayed away.
"My lady, you must understand that I can only work within the framework of the law."
"I want facts, Vaclav. Not excuses."
"Yes, my lady."
The coffee arrived and she drank it while he gave her what she wanted. He was patient. Old as she might be and intransigent as she undoubtedly was yet she had the power to break him and they both knew it.
She said, as he ended, "So Angado Nossak returned to this world with a man he'd met on his travels. One we know to be Earl Dumarest. He shared Angado's apartment at the falls. Some time later Angado was found dead in the main salon, his uncle Perotto with him, also dead, the room empty but for an injured cyber. And Dumarest?" China clashed as she set down the cup and saucer. "Gone. Running from the scene of the crime in a stolen raft. Is he guilty?"
"Of what, my lady?"
"The murders, what else?"
Vaclav said, "Angado was killed by a dart from the ring-gun his uncle was wearing. The same weapon caused Perotto's death. Cyber Avro was not injured but incapacitated by illness. The only other man in the a
partment, a guard knocked out by Dumarest, was not present when the incident took place."
"But Dumarest was. Together with a woman."
"Wynne Tewson. The guard recognized her. Dumarest used her raft."
"To escape." Mirza was curt. "From whom and for why? Innocent men do not run. He must have killed in that room. He certainly killed those in the other raft which followed him."
"An accident. I have depositions. Three eyewitness accounts. The rafts were close and must have collided over the falls. Dumarest managed to reach safety by the use of auxiliary burners. He was fortunate."
"You think so?"
"My lady?" Vaclav sensed he was on dangerous ground. Mildly he said, "He could have followed the others into the falls. His raft could have veered, spun, tilted, anything. He was lucky it didn't."
"Is that why you haven't arrested him? I can't understand why he wasn't held for questioning. It seems to me that you have failed in your duty. To have ignored such an elementary precaution smacks of the most arrant stupidity."
Vaclav looked down at his hands and fought to remain calm. A victory gained at cost-later he would pay for resisting the impulse to tell the bitch what he thought of her and her arrogant manner.
"My lady, you asked for the facts and have been given them. If you find them not to your liking I am not to blame. I am concerned with guilt, not revenge. With proof, not assumptions. As things stand there is no evidence against Dumarest."
"But-"
"The incident over the falls was an accident, as three witnesses are willing to swear. There is no case to answer. The raft he used could have been stolen, true, but as the owner is dead there can be no complaint. The dart which killed Angado was fired from the ring worn by his uncle, as the evidence makes plain."
"Evidence can be manufactured."
"My lady?"
She was brutal in her curtness. "Use your brains, man. Perotto's body showed extensive bruising. Injuries which could have been caused by savage blows. He could have been beaten helpless, his ring used against Angado and then turned on himself. Can you deny the possibility?"
"No, but where is the motive?"
"Did he need one? Perhaps Dumarest had outstayed his welcome. He could have thought to use blackmail against Angado and Perotto challenged him. He may have tried to steal." She made an impatient gesture. "Do the details matter? Interrogation would have revealed the truth but you failed to hold him. More proof of your inadequacy."
Vaclav said, stiffly, "He was in a raft, my lady. It headed into the sky and was gone long before the guardians learned of the situation. I put out a routine trace but nothing was found. It could be anywhere."
"Find it. Use every man and machine you have. I want it located. The raft and the man who used it. Understand?"
"I'll do my best."
"You'll do more than that-you'll find Dumarest." She drew in her breath then continued, in a milder tone, "As a girl I studied logic. You've supplied the facts as to what was found in that room and I've given an explanation to account for them. One you don't seem to like. Let's look at your idea. Angado killed by a dart from Perotto's ring. A fact beyond dispute. But what then? Suicide?"
"A possibility, my lady."
"Rubbish! If you believe that, you're a bigger fool than I take you for. With Angado dead Perotto had everything to live for." Her voice rose a little, the former mildness forgotten. "He was scum and may have deserved to die but he was of the Karroum and the one who took his life will pay. I swear it!"
* * *
The place held the stench she had hated since childhood; an odor of fear, pain, regret, terror. One compounded by the smell of antiseptics, bandages, drips, the sterilizing fluids used to treat the bedding and gowns. Like a prison, a hospital was a world unto itself where values changed and small things took on a tremendous import. As small officials regarded themselves as greater than they were.
"Aside!" The official wilted beneath her glare. "Where can I find Cyber Avro?"
"My lady." He didn't know her but her arrogance betrayed her class. "Please, my lady, if you will be so good as to wait." He gestured with the hand with which he had tried to bar her progress, pointing at a waiting room fitted with hard chairs, dusty walls, faded prints of scenes and men long dead. "I will summon Doctor Kooga."
"You will send him to me," she corrected. "Now direct me to the cyber."
He lay on a bed in a room containing the most expensive equipment the hospital could provide. As the room held the most comfort; things lost on the patient, who rested supine, eyes closed, his head swathed in an elaborate dressing. Beneath the covers his body looked like that of a man in the last stages of deprivation; the stomach concave, the torso a slight mound, the thighs like sticks, the arms resting above the material the same. What she could see of the face reminded her of a skull.
"My lady, I beg you!" Vaclav, beside her, betrayed the conflict which tore at his equanimity. "This is madness! He is of the Cyclan!"
"He was in the room."
"True, but he saw nothing. He was almost comatose when we found him and needed emergency treatment. All this," his gesture embraced the room, the equipment, "is at the order of the Cyclan who have guaranteed to meet every expense. Kooga dropped all other cases to concentrate on this. He is working in close collaboration with Cyclan physicians." He added, as if in justification, "They communicate by radio. If they were present we wouldn't have this problem."
Nor the witness and Mirza drew in her breath as she thought about it. Vaclav had said nothing, her own intelligence had directed her to the hospital, and she could guess why. The Cyclan with its awesome power cast a wide shadow, working its will even when none of its servants were present. If another cyber had been present the room would have been sealed and guarded against any unauthorized entry. Had Avro's aides survived the accident at the falls the same. But they had died, as all Avro's companions had died, to leave him helpless and alone.
"They will be here soon," said Vaclav as if reading her thoughts. "A special ship is carrying Cyclan physicians to Lychen. They will take over. But, my lady, Avro must be alive when they do."
A threat implied with a hint. One backed by the reputation of the organization which spanned the known galaxy. Obey or pay for disobedience. Pay in the subtle destruction of the economy, the ruin of established Houses, the blasting of ambition and hope. If Avro died too soon Lychen would be ruined.
But Avro could tell her what she needed to know.
"He saw," she said. "He was there. He had to be. He knows how Angado died and who killed Perotto."
"He was helpless. Unaware."
"When you discovered him, yes, but earlier?" Mirza shook her head. "I doubt it. And why was he present at all? Or the woman? No. There are too many questions left unanswered. He will answer them."
Vaclav caught her arm as she stepped toward the bed. He was sweating, fear overriding the inherent danger of the act. To her the contact of his hand was an insult, an offense against her pride.
"My lady! For God's sake! A touch could kill him!"
The truth and she recognized it and she halted to look down at the skull-like features. A fool, she thought dispassionately. A man who had become a living, thinking machine. One who regarded food as fuel for his body and fat as unwanted surplus. An attitude which robbed him of needed reserves so that in times of strain he drew on basic needs and when, as now, he needed the energy to aid healing, it was not available.
Yet a clever man despite the stupidity. One who could take a handful of facts and extrapolate from them to formulate the logical outcome of any sequence of events. The power of the Cyclan; to guide those who hired their services and to assure success. To become so indispensable that they and not those who used them became the real rulers of worlds, the real dictators of policy. The power behind the throne, unrecognized, unassailable, undefeatable-in time they would own everything.
But not yet and never her.
"Please, my lady!"
Vaclav's
hand fell from her arm as again she stepped toward the bed, but she made no effort to touch the patient, looking, instead, at the roll of record paper spilling from a monitoring machine at his side. She frowned in puzzlement at the patterns, checking the machine before again studying the paper.
A push-button was set in an oblong of plastic close to Avro's limp hand. She thrust her thumb against it, held it down until a nurse came running into the room.
"What-" The girl stared, eyes wide with shock. "You! What are you doing here? This room-"
"I ordered Kooga to meet me here." Mirza cut short the protest. "Where is he?"
"Doctor Kooga is off-duty. Resting. He-"
"Get him up and get him here. Fast!" The snap in her voice made the nurse jump. "Move, damn you! Get him!"
"But you shouldn't be here. It isn't allowed. The regulations-" Flustered, the girl turned toward the door, relaxed as she saw the man filling the opening. "This is Doctor Kooga."
* * *
He was tall, slim, a face masked by the need to maintain detachment, one too used to the sight of pain. A man younger than Vaclav, who was a decade younger than herself. His voice, while calm, held the tone of one accustomed to obedience.
"Why are you here, nurse?"
"The bell summoned me, sir. When I arrived these people were present."
"Thank you. You may go." He waited until her footsteps had faded down the passage. "Now I suggest we have less shouting and less giving of orders. In themselves neither is capable of achievement." He looked at Vaclav. "I think I know you-Chief Guardian, correct?" He continued at Vaclav's nod. "We've been having a little trouble lately over unauthorized parking. Too many have grown into the habit of leaving their vehicles too close to the hospital. It causes congestion and noise we can do without. See to it."
Vaclav closed his lips against the bile rising from his stomach.
"And you, madam?"
"I am the Lady Mirza Annette Karroum. I have an interest in your patient. But first let me ask you about the patterns you are getting on your encephalograph. They are most unusual and-"
