by E. C. Tubb
"Drop your gun! Drop it!" As she obeyed he snapped, "You, too, Earl." Throw down that laser. Do it or I'll burn her brains out!"
"Of course, Balain." Dumarest threw aside the weapon. "Or should it be Eian?"
Calmly he looked at the handler of the Sivas.
The man was as he remembered, short, stocky, a little inclined to fat, attributes emphasized by the Ohrm clothing he wore. Held by the locking arm, Ursula said blankly, "Eian? The handler? Earl, he's dead!"
"No, he just wanted everyone to think that and it was easily arranged. A man murdered and dressed in his uniform to be rendered unrecognizable by the blast. Which is why you arranged it, Eian. A neat method of covering your tracks."
"You knew?"
"I guessed. Explosives such as carried by the Sivas can't be detonated with a laser even if the beam were powerful enough to burn through the packing. The weapons used by the guards aren't strong enough. So why did the explosives blow? They had to be fitted with detonators and no one in his right mind would have moved primed charges and risked an accidental explosion. So it shouldn't have been accidental." Dumarest added casually, "Do you intend throttling the woman? If not I'd suggest you ease the pressure of your arm."
"If you try anything-"
"Try what? You have the gun." Dumarest displayed his empty hands. "But the woman could do you an injury if she put her mind to it and, while you're busy killing her-" He smiled as the man cursed and pushed Ursula to one side. "That's better."
She said, rubbing her throat, "Why, Earl? Why?"
"For money." Dumarest kept his eyes on the handler. "For a lot of money."
"For a world!" The man sucked in his breath. "I had a plan. It would have worked like a clock but for an accident. It was perfect."
"But you misjudged the blast," said Dumarest. "You used too much explosive or triggered it to blow at the wrong second. The engine was hit and the Sivas was grounded."
"And you started to nose around. If it hadn't been for that none of this would have happened." The gesture of the laser took in the man lying dead at the opening, those lower down. "A couple of days and the ship would have left. There would have been all the time in the world to complete the plan. Instead you had to get suspicious. That business in the cold-store, Pellia thought you were giving the dead a blessing but I knew better."
"Which is why you gave orders to have me killed?"
"You were getting too close and I couldn't afford to take chances. There was too much at stake. Money-all the money you could ever hope to want And more.
Power, the real kind, I'd have been a king. I can still be a king."
"Money," said Dumarest. "Let's stick to the money." He heard the woman suck in her breath but ignored her. "How? Where is it to come from?"
"Tekoa. The pods they suck-or haven't you learned about that yet? No, I suppose not, you've only been hours on this world and have kept yourself pretty damned busy. It's the main export. One pod if you're feeling low will set you up. Two will put you on a mountain. Three will lift you up to the stars. More than that-" He shrugged. "That's why Tuvey is so keen to keep this place a secret. He's got a monopoly."
"Which you wanted."
"Which I have." The laser lifted a little. 'It came more messy than I'd intended but it's mine just the same."
"Balain," mused Dumarest. "The friend of the Ohrm. Teaching the oppressed the secrets of successful revolution. They overthrow their rulers and you ride along for fringe benefits. Let's hope they will last."
"Fringe benefits? Is that what you think?" Anger convulsed the rounded face. "I've go it all. Do you understand? It's all mine. The tekoa, this world, everything. If it hadn't been for you it would have been easy. I'd planned it down to the last detail. But a dancer's pimp had to get nosy. I ought to burn out your guts for interfering."
"I didn't."
"Would the Choud have searched the Ohrm houses but for you? Would they have dreamed of the possibility of a rebellion if you hadn't opened your mouth? I owe you a lot, you bastard!"
Dumarest said, "Why did you want the explosives?"
"Couldn't you figure that out?" Eian glanced at Ursula. "She knows. Haven't you told him about Hury yet? How you depend on it." To Dumarest he said, "Do you take me for a fool? How the hell did you think I was going to win this world? Trust a bunch of ignorant yokels to be grateful? That would have been stupid. No, I was going to blackmail the Choud. I'm still going to blackmail them. In a day they'll be eating out of my hand."
"And calling you their king?"
"If I wanted, yes."
Ursula said urgently, "Please, where are the explosives? I'll promise all the pods you need, money, too, and, of course, safe conduct if you will tell me."
"You're too late," said the handler. "They're stacked and I don't have to tell you where. But I'll tell you what will happen if you don't do as I say. You see this?" His free hand lifted a small, black box from a pocket. See the two buttons? This is a radio remote control. If I press the red button the explosives will blow in twenty seconds. Unless I press the green one within fifteen nothing can stop the blast. Neat, eh? I figure it'll-" He yelled as Ursula dived toward him. "You fool! Get back! Back!"
He fired as Dumarest dropped his hand to his knife, fired again as the steel rose to hurtle toward him, the blade turning red hot as the beam hit it, searing metal striking his face to hit the bone above the eye, to glance downward to plunge into the orb, blood and lymphatic fluids hissing and creating wisps of steam as it came to rest in the brain beneath.
"Ursula?"
"He missed!" She slapped at the flames marring the cerulean beauty of her hair. "Well, almost. Where is the box."
Dumarest reached for it as he dragged free his knife. Eian still clutched it and, dying, he had done his worst The red button was depressed.
"God!" She turned and raced for the stairs. "Dear God give me time!"
"Come back!" Seconds had already passed and more were flying as she climbed the treads. "Eian could have been bluffing."
And, if not, she could be running to her death.
He called to the wind. Ignoring him she raced on, reaching the top of the stairs as he set foot on the bottom, out of sight by the time he dived through the upper opening, only the rap of her running feet echoing through the upper chamber.
One which held more enigmatic bulks and had a roof supported on massive struts. Instruments glowed from humped machines and the air was filled with the taint of ozone and coolants.
"Ursula?" Dumarest ran forward, no longer hearing the patter of her feet. "Ursula!"
A metallic tinkle and he turned to run down a narrow passage. Another and he saw her busy at heaped packages wired into a compact whole, a rounded box set among them, a ruby light glowing on its surface.
"Ursula! Get-"
The world exploded into livid flame.
Chapter Fourteen
He had died and was drifting in the void and his decaying brain was projecting the stored images in a series of scintillant flashes. The massed explosives, Ursula turning, the ruby light, the sudden gush of flame which turned her blue into scarlet; clothing, hair, skin all vanishing as the shock wave of the blast had reached toward him faster than he could think.
But now that he was dead and drifting there was time for thought. Ursula was dead and she had been of the Choud.
Eian, dying, had taken his revenge and destroyed the Hury.
The Choud. The Hury.
The Choudhury!
The obvious which had nagged at his subconscious and which he had failed to recognize until it was too late. Instead he had formed a wrong conclusion-a mistake which had cost him the chance of finding the whereabouts of Earth.
"Earl!" Someone was calling him, but who would waste time calling the dead?
"Earl, wake up. Wake up, Earl. Please wake up!"
A noise which gave him no peace. One which sent the darkness rolling back to leave a thin, pale, illumination pressing like a ghost light against his eyes.
Fingers caught the hand he lifted to his face.
"No. It's all right. You were burned and had to be bandaged. Tuvey-"
"My eyes?"
"Should be healed now. Please, Earl, let me do it."
He lowered his hand and felt the touch of chill metal; scissors which snipped the bandages from the upper part of his face. As they fell away he blinked at the figure which stood beside the bed.
Kalin?
She looked the same but was misted against the light which caught her hair and turned it into flame. But the color was wrong, and as she turned, the flame changed to gold as the face became familiar.
"Pellia?"
"You recognize me. Good." She leaned closer, her fingers cool as they touched his face, the region around the eyes. "You were lucky, Earl. Instinct saved your eyes. You threw up an arm to shield them and the blast flung you back behind some cover." She added quietly, "The woman-"
"Is dead. I know." Dumarest sat upright on the bed and fought a momentary nausea. "How long?"
"Two days. We found you, and the captain told us what to do. Sardia helped."
With slow-time which had accelerated his metabolism so as to stretch hours into days. With intravenous feeding and selected hormones to mend the broken ribs and aid the replacement of destroyed tissue.
"It was completely destroyed, Earl." Pellia rubbed her hands over the bedcover like a small girl who is reluctant to break bad news. "Balain carried out his threat, He was a great man."
"He was a self-seeking animal and you're better off without him." Dumarest threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was naked. "Where are my clothes?"
They were burnt, seared, protective mesh bared to the light. Only the boots and belt remained relatively untouched. The knife would have to be honed and re-tempered as the garments needed to be refurbished but they were things easily managed.
As he stepped from the room with its bed and medical apparatus, Tuvey came into view down the corridor. Etallia was with him carrying a large jug. As they met, the captain halted her, took the jug from her hands and handed it to Dumarest.
"Here, I guess you could use this." It was basic. As Dumarest swallowed the energizing liquid Tuvey continued, "It's a hell of a mess. The only good thing about it is that Shartan was wrong about the generator. It doesn't need a replacement. We'll be ready to leave in a few hours."
"I want passage."
"Yes, I thought you might, and I guess you've earned it. Eian-" Tuvey broke off and looked at his clenched hands. "That bastard must have been crazy. He rode with me for years and all the time he was planning to ruin a world. He did ruin it. Ath will never be the same again.
"It could be better."
"Maybe." Tuvey sounded doubtful. "But it won't be the same. Finished with that jug?" He took it and handed it to the woman. "I owe her something," he explained. "She was good to me in the past and I'm trying to make things a little easy for her."
"Aren't the Ohrm helping?"
"Of course," said Pellia. "We are doing everything we can."
Which needn't be enough. Dumarest said, "They need you, Captain. The Choud and the Ohrm both. You can help them. They need books and educational apparatus; hypnotic tutors and the like. You can bring them in together with agricultural machinery; nothing too elaborate but something to relieve them of endless labor. In a few years, with your aid, Ath will have gained new life and have a viable culture. Give passage to a few monks-they'll be glad to help."
And would be grateful for the opportunity. The Church of Universal Brotherhood could use a relatively untouched world and would be kind to the innocence now prevailing. Tuvey thought about it, weighing the advantages, nodding as he reached a decision.
"Hell, why not? I'm not going to live forever and I'll still hold the monopoly. If they can increase tekoa production I'll double trips and profit. And it could be fun to take a hand in the shaping of things. I might even retire and take up land to the south." Reaching out he took Etallia by the arm. "We leave at sunset."
Outside the hospital the city looked as he remembered and then little things gained his attention: men and women, gaily dressed who wandered without apparent purpose. The swimmers sitting beside the water who looked as if they had sat there for days and would continue to sit unless someone led them away. Others, the Ohrm, who walked with a new assurance and looked at the jewel-like houses with possessive eyes.
At his side Pellia said, "Earl, we need you. Please don't leave us. You could be our new leader. Now that Balain is dead we haven't anyone to follow. We don't know what to do." She ended plaintively, "I never guessed it would be like this."
A sudden change which hurt as all changes do. An alteration in the previously smooth-running scheme of things and the unaccustomed burden of responsibility. How many of them had thought beyond the glittering lies the handler had fed them? How many had been capable?
He said, "Pellia, when a woman gives birth it hurts, right?"
"Yes, Earl, but not for long."
"And this won't hurt for long either." She hadn't grasped the analogy. "A revolution is like a birth," Dumarest explained patiently. "Something new is created and creation is always accompanied with pain. At the moment you feel lost. The Choud are no longer telling you what to do and when to do it and how it should be done. Now you are having to think for yourselves. You are having to make decisions." Then, as she continued to stare at him, he snapped, Damn it, girl, did you imagine it would be easy?"
"Balain-"
"Wanted to be a dictator. He wanted to take over from the Choud and to become a despot. Thank your gods he didn't succeed. If he had you'd have learned what it was to be a slave. Now you've got to learn to stand up and act and think for yourselves."
"Earl why don't you stay and teach us?"
"I can't."
"You could have a house, the best there is, and we would do just what you told us to do. You could have anything you wanted. Anything. Earl, please!"
A world which he could use as a plaything, one he could guide as he wished. The tekoa would provide a fortune, the Ohrm willing servants, the Choud-he didn't want to think about the Choud. About what had been done to them.
"Earl?"
"No." He looked at the sky. The sun was past zenith and time was running out. "Where can I find Sardia?"
"I don't know." Woman-like she was sullen at his refusal. "At Cornelius's house, I guess."
She came to meet him as he turned from the path, crossing the lawn to stand before him and search his face with her eyes. Her own held shadows and a peculiar hurt and age rested more heavily on her face than he remembered.
"Earl!" Her hand lifted to touch his cheek. "I was so worried!"
"There was no need."
"You didn't see what you looked like after you'd been dragged from beneath the wreckage. And there was no one at the hospital who could help. If-"
"I know," he said. "Pellia told me."
"She learned," said Sardia. "And will learn more. They will all learn." Bitterly she added, "So much for victory."
"It was an accident. They didn't know."
"They didn't care!"
He repeated flatly, "They didn't know. Did you? Did I? We should have guessed but we didn't and we had all the clues. The way the Choud would tilt back the head and seem to listen and blink after the connection was broken. The things they knew without being told-of me leaving you after the dance, the subjects discussed, the whereabouts of others and the things they had done. The knowledge they had."
The hobbies taken up and dropped to make way for another. The gracious living. The certainty of supremacy. The ship they had arrived in.
The Choudhury,
The name they had taken. The name they had given to the computer to which they had all been linked.
He remembered the rounded nodule he had felt beneath the woman's scalp, the lack of anything similar on the heads of the Ohrm. Divergent stock could have accounted for the differentiation but he had been told they were both of c
ommon origin. And Ursula had known about Earth.
Not Ursula-Hury.
"Earl?" Sardia was looking at him, her eyes anxious. "Is something wrong?"
Dumarest looked down at his hands and forced himself to relax the clenched fingers. Forced himself, too, to fight the sick regret tearing at his insides, the anger at his own stupidity. Why hadn't he recognized the obvious sooner? Ursula could have told him about Earth- but so could any other of the Choud!
The information had been stored in the computer taken from the old vessel; one used as a general-purpose library to deliver information to all fitted with the engrafted transceivers. The strength of the Choud and their ultimate weakness.
He said, "Where is Cornelius?"
He sat before the easel in the studio with the high, arched windows which framed the vista beyond. Paint was thick on his fingers, eyes fastened to the work as, tongue thrust between his teeth, he painstakingly daubed splotches on the ruined canvas.
"It's gone," said Sardia bitterly. "All gone. He doesn't know anything. He can talk and walk and that's about all. All the rest has been forgotten."
Not forgotten-never learned.
Dumarest looked at the man, wondering what it must have been like to have the answer to any question immediately at hand. There had been no need to memorize a single fact; a thought and it was delivered. As had been the data needed to take up pottery, weaving, painting, architecture, medicine, dancing-all that had been painfully learned over the millennia, condensed, refined, at hand at any moment. The accumulated knowledge which had made the Choud the masters of their world.
Cornelius turned and saw them and smiled. "Look," he said. "Look."
"That's good." Sardia's voice held tears. "Very good. But try and get the lines into a pattern which can be recognized. Two lines set opposite to each other and joined by a curve at the top. See?" Her hand lifted to point at the window. "Just like that. Now draw me a picture I can recognize as a window."
"A window?"
"An opening set into a wall to admit light," said Dumarest. The man was like a child. "You must know what a window is."
"An opening," said Cornelius. "One set in a wall to admit light."
