by E. C. Tubb
"And Wandara?"
Zopolis shrugged. "Gone. I kicked him out when I discovered what had happened, not what happened to you," he explained. "If I had known that I'd have come after you, but when I found out about the new scout, I held back his pay and he had to travel low. Maybe he won't make it," he added. "A man like that doesn't deserve any luck at all."
"Wrong," said Dumarest. "He deserves plenty of it-all bad."
Outside the cloud had spread to cover half the sky and the lower edge of the sun rested on the horizon. In a few days it would be out of sight and cloud would cover the entire sky. Then would come winter and the rain. If he was going to remain on Scar he had better make some arrangements, but they could wait. Something else had higher priority.
* * *
Ewan pursed his lips as he manipulated his shells. "Nothing, Earl," he said. "Not a whisper. As far as I knew you had simply gone on a long trip." The shells made little rasping noises as he moved them over the table. "Clemdish?"
"Dead. Tortured."
"That's bad," Ewan lifted his head, his eyes direct. "I'm clean, Earl. I'm no paragon, hut I wouldn't set a gang of jumpers on anyone. I warned you about them, remember?"
Dumarest nodded. "And you said something else, about a ring."
"Gossip, a snatch of conversation." The shells paused in the pudgy hands. "Are you saying they were after your ring?"
"As well as other things, yes."
"And you don't know why?"
"Not yet," said Dumarest grimly. "But I intend to find out."
A ship left as he stepped through the vestibule into the open air. It lifted, then seemed to vanish with a crack of displaced air. A red flash glittered as sunlight reflected from the polished hull and then it was gone. On the landing field men slowly leveled the spot where it had stood.
"Dumarest!"
He turned and saw Adrienne. She was coming from Lowtown, her maid a step behind and a monk bringing up the rear.
"My lady?"
"You have been avoiding us," she said with mock severity as she came to where he stood. "How are you now? Do you continue to be well, no bad effects from Brian's administrations?" She checked herself, conscious of her betrayal. No one of her rank and station should reveal such concern. "I have been working with Brother Jeffrey," she explained. "He is coming with us to Jest. I've been talking to the children and others who will be accompanying us." Her eyes searched his face. "And you, will you not come also?"
"No, my lady." Dumarest softened his refusal. "I have other plans and Jest does not lie in the direction I wish to go."
"But I thought-"
"That I have no money?" He smiled. "That is true. I was not talking about leaving immediately."
"Then yon could come with us for a while at least," she insisted. "What have you to lose?"
Nothing but his life. Dumarest had met such interest before, and was wary of it. To her he was novel, someone to break the monotony, a stimulating personality. She showed interest, later that interest could turn into something stronger. If he yielded and took the opportunity he would invite an assassin. If he rejected it he would earn her hatred.
Keelah sensed his embarrassment and smiled. Brother Jeffrey came smoothly to the rescue.
"Could I help you, brother. Were you looking for someone?"
"The factor," said Dumarest. "Is he in Lowtown?"
The monk shook his head. "I believe he is dining on one of the ships." he volunteered. "A farewell party thrown by a group of tourists. I am not certain, but I will inquire if you wish."
"Thank you. Brother, but there is no urgency," said Dumarest. "I will see him later."
"And us?" Adrienne rested her hand on his arm. The touch was gentle, intimate. "Will we see you again, Earl?"
His eyes were direct. "Quite possibly, my lady."
"Why the doubt?" Her hand closed on his arm, the fingers digging into his flesh. "You will eat with us," she decided. "You cannot refuse."
He glimpsed a flash of scarlet and followed it with his eyes. The color of the cyber's robe was accentuated by the crimson of the sun so that he seemed blood upon blood, a mobile shadow as he walked from the landing field to the station.
"Earl?"
Dumarest remembered the woman. "I beg your pardon, my lady, but I must beg your indulgence. If you will be so kind as to do me a service?"
Adrienne smiled. "Of course, Earl."
"Please ask your husband to meet me in the factor's office at once, my lady. It is very important."
* * *
Del Meoud wasn't at a party. Dumarest could hear the murmur of voices as he approached the door of the office, the talk abruptly ending as he opened the door.
The factor looked at him from where he sat at his desk.
"What the-? Earl! Do you mind? I'm busy!"
"So am I." Dumarest closed the door and leaned back against the panel. Yeon stood against the window with his hands tucked in the wide sleeves of his robe.
"If this is business, I will leave," he said in his even monotone. "Our discussion, factor, can wait until later."
"Stay where you are, cyber." Dumarest remained leaning against the door. "My business concerns you." He heard the sound of footsteps from the passage outside and stepped from the door as it opened. Jocelyn entered.
"Dumarest." His eyes moved from the factor to the cyber. "I understood you wanted to see me on a matter of urgent importance."
"That is correct, my lord." Dumarest shut the door. He took a chair from where it stood against the wall and rested his right boot on the seat, his right hand inches from his knee. "I intend to punish the man who tried to take my life."
He head Meoud's sharp inhalation and saw the widening of Jocelyn's eyes. Only the cyber remained unmoved.
"This is ridiculous!" Del Meoud took a handkerchief from a drawer and dabbed at his bearded lips. "Surely you don't suspect either of us for what those jumpers did, Earl?"
"I don't suspect, I know," said Dumarest grimly. "Those men didn't come after us by accident. The man who allowed them to use a raft has left Scar-fortunately for him. But those men weren't ordinary jumpers; they were primed; they knew too much." His eyes moved from face to face. "Someone told them," he said deliberately. "Someone in this room."
Jocelyn cleared his throat, conscious of the tension and of Dumarest's resolve. "You haven't any proof," he said. "I sympathize with you, Earl, but how can you be sure?"
"I thank you for your sympathy, my lord," said Dumarest tightly. "But this isn't a court of law. There is no law on Scar. I don't need proof. I would prefer not to harm the innocent but I am going to do as I say." His lips thinned as he looked from one to the other. "I was there," he added harshly. "I saw what those men did to my partner. I know what they intended doing to me. Do any of you really think that I'm going to let the man responsible get away with it? If I have to kill you all he is going to pay!"
"Earl! You can't-"
"Be quiet!" Dumarest turned from the factor and looked at Jocelyn. "I recently asked you a question, my lord. I asked how you knew where to find me. You said that you asked your cyber." He looked at the calm figure in scarlet. "How did you know?"
"My lord?"
"Answer him."
Yeon inclined his head a fraction, the ruby light from the window gleaming on his shaven skull. "It is my purpose to advise," he said evenly. "In order to do this I take what facts are available and from them, extrapolate a logical sequence. I learned that your partner had ordered rope. This obviously meant that you intended reaching the hills. When you were late in returning where else should I have suggested you were?"
"The hills are not a small range," said Dumarest. "How did you know exactly where to look?"
"Extrapolation again," said Yeon. It seemed he spoke with amused condescension. "I plotted the routes you would most probably have taken. There were three; one had a higher degree of probability than the others. As a task it was elementary."
"There, Earl, you see?" Del Meoud re
leased his breath in a gust of relief. "No one here is to blame. In fact, you should thank the cyber for guiding the rescue. If it hadn't been for him, you would be dead by now." He found his handkerchief and dabbed again at his lips. Tossing the square of fabric back into the drawer he made as if to rise.
"Sit down!" Dumarest's voice cracked like a whip. "The cyber knew where to find me. He could not pick one spot in an entire range of hills simply because my partner ordered a rope. If you believe that, you would believe anything. He could say how to find me because he knew where I was."
"Now, wait a minute, Earl! Are you accusing the cyber?"
"No, Meoud. I'm accusing you!"
The factor lifted a hand and touched his lips. "Me? Earl, have you gone crazy? Why the hell should I send men out after you?"
"Because you're greedy; because you're fed up with this planet and you want something better. Listen," said Dumarest. "At the end of winter two men tried to kill me. They wanted something I own. This." He held up his left hand, catching the light on his ring so that it shone like freshly spilt blood. "The cyber wasn't here then, neither was the Lord of Jest. Only one man could have told them where I was; only one man could have primed those jumpers so they knew where to look. You, Meoud!"
"No, Earl, you're wrong! I swear it!"
"You can't," said Dumarest softly. "Because there's something I haven't told you. Those three men didn't all die at the same time. One lived for a while and he talked. He was glad to talk. He told me that you had given them their orders, that you were going to handle the selling of the loot."
"Wrong," said the factor. He was sweating, his beard dripping with perspiration. He reached for the drawer, his hand scrabbling, metal shining as he lifted it from beneath the handkerchief.
Dumarest threw his knife.
It was a blur.
The factor made a strained coughing sound as he bent forward, one hand reaching for his throat and the hilt of the blade, the other releasing the laser which fell with a thud to the floor,
Jocelyn looked at the pistol, then at the factor doubled over on his desk, a red stain widening from the knife buried in his neck.
"You killed him," he said blankly. "I didn't even see you move."
"He betrayed himself," said Dumarest. "He reached for a gun in order to kill me. I didn't feel like letting him do it."
Thoughtfully Jocelyn looked at Dumarest. The man was cold, ruthless and fast. He could have thrown the knife at any one of them with equal skill. He thought of Ilgash and wondered what protection the man would be if present. None, he decided.
He watched as Dumarest tugged out the knife and wiped it on the handkerchief he took from the drawer. "So it's over then? You've killed the man you were after."
Dumarest met his eyes. "No, my lord, it isn't yet over."
Jocelyn frowned. "I do not understand."
"I want to know why the two men who tried to kill me wanted my ring, why Meoud wanted it. I want to know more of the three men who jumped me and the person who sent you to rescue me when they didn't return."
"Adrienne? But what part could my wife have in this?"
"Not your wife, my lord." said Dumarest patiently. "But the one who set the idea in her mind, the one who told you exactly where I was to be found." He looked directly at Yeon. "Well, cyber? Are you going to tell me the answer?"
Yeon remained impassive. "I cannot."
"A pity."
"A statement of fact. I do not know why anyone should want your ring."
"But you want it." Dumarest stepped a little closer to the scarlet figure. "You gave orders it was to be taken, but you don't know why, is that it? You are merely obeying instructions?"
"That is so." Yeon abruptly took his hands from within his sleeves. One of them held a fragile ball of glass. Within it trapped yellow caught the light. "Put aside the knife," he ordered. "Quickly. Obey or I will destroy you both."
It fell with a ringing sound on the desk.
Jocelyn stepped forward and halted as Dumarest caught his arm.
"Be careful, my lord. He holds a container of parasitic spores, probably mutated, a vicious weapon."
It was a safe one. Who would query such a death on a world like Scar?
Yeon stepped to the door and opened it. The panel swung inwards and he stood in the gap, the door half open, his free hand gripping the edge.
"Wait!" Dumarest extended his left hand. "My ring. Do you want it?"
"No." Yeon hesitated, then yielded to temptation, eager to enjoy the only pleasure he could experience, to tell these emotional animals how he and what he represented would achieve their aim. "Keep it," he said. "It will be a simple matter to obtain it from your body." His brooding eyes fell on Jocelyn. "And you have served your purpose. The marriage is a fact. Even if your wife is not yet pregnant, such a simple matter can be arranged. Selected sperm taken from our biological laboratories to match your physical characteristics and accelerated gestation to adjust the time element will make her the proud mother of an heir to both Jest and Eldfane."
She would be hopelessly dependent on the Cyclan to keep the secret, to maintain her in power, and to safeguard the precious child. She could wear the baubles of rule, the Cyclan would have the real power. Another firm step would have been taken towards the final domination of the habitable worlds. His reward could surely be nothing less than an early incorporation into the central intelligence.
Yeon threw down the container of spores.
Dumarest moved. He flung himself forward, warned by the subtle movement of a sleeve, a tensing of the hand resting on the edge of the panel. His hand shot out, caught the glass ball, lifted it and threw it directly into the cyber's face.
It broke with a crystalline tinkle, a cloud of yellow rising about the shaven skull. Yeon staggered back as Dumarest thrust at his chest and slammed the door.
Sweating, he listened to the noises from outside, the bumping and threshing, muffled cries and incoherent moaning.
"Gods of space!" Jocelyn stood by the window. He pointed with a trembling hand. "Look at that!"
A scarlet figure stood outside. A growing ball of yellow frothed from the open robe, two smaller ones hung at the end of each sleeve. Yeon had staggered outside unaware of direction. He could feel no pain but the multiplying fungus clogged his mouth and his nostrils, grew on the surface of his eyes, sprouted from his ears and filled his lungs. It dug into his flesh, thrusting through the pores of his skin, growing until even the scarlet of the robe was hidden.
After a while the threshing stopped and a swollen ball of yellow fungus lay quivering on the ground.
* * *
Dumarest dug his spoon into a mound of emerald jelly, tasted it and found it both astringent and smooth to the tongue. "The cyber had an accident," he said. "That is all you need to say. The Cyclan are not eager for their intrigues to come to light."
Adrienne frowned. "But what of their aid? How can we manage without their guidance?"
"As we did before, my dear." Jocelyn was sharp. "You did not hear the man. He regarded you as a beast to be put to breeding for the Cyclan's purpose. Perhaps that would not have bothered you, but once the child had been accepted, how long do you think you would have been permitted to stay alive?"
"Surely you exaggerate."
Dumarest put down his spoon. The cabin was snug and intimate with its ancient furnishings. It only needed an open fire to complete the illusion that it was part of a stronghold rather than a space vessel.
"Never underestimate the Cyclan, my lady," he said. "Their plans are subtle and rarely as innocent as they seem. They are like spiders twitching the strands of a web so as to ensnare those over whom they seek power." Casually he added. "Tell me, do you have many cybers on your home world?"
"None now," she said. "Yeon was the only one and he came with us."
"And how long had he been there, a few months, perhaps, a short while before the negotiations began for your marriage?" Dumarest smiled at Jocelyn's expression. "Yes, m
y lord. Even that was a plan of the Cyclan's. You see how far ahead they look?"
"But the malfunction of the vessel? How could he have known that we would go to Scar?"
"Because he wanted to go there," said Dumarest flatly. "Where the Cyclan are concerned, there is no such thing as chance. On your own admission you rule a poor world. Men are human, the Cyclan is powerful and a poor man would think twice at defying them. And so a small malfunction of the ship, a captain who mentions a peculiar circumstance. Given your preoccupation with destiny, the rest was inevitable."
Jocelyn nodded thoughtfully as he sat in his chair. "Destiny," he said. "Could not the Cyclan themselves be instruments of fate?"
"They could," admitted Dumarest. "Brother Jeffrey could answer you better than I."
He caught Adrienne's start and inwardly smiled. Give it time and the gentle power of the Universal Brotherhood would dull her ambition. Once beneath the benediction light, she would discover an unexpected happiness in being gentle, kind, considerate and thoughtful of others-and she would be conditioned against seeking the death of another.
"The ring," said Jocelyn abruptly. "I understand that you trapped the factor, that the man hadn't spoken at all, but why should he want it?"
"He didn't," said Dumarest. "The Cyclan did-does," he corrected, looking at the ruby fire on his left hand. "But he tried to collect it for them. I thought at first it might be the gambler who was responsible for sending those men after me, but Ewan was innocent. He even tried to warn me and went so far as to speak of a ring. He wouldn't have done that if he had been involved."
Adrienne was curious. "I still can't understand why they want it, Earl. Do you know why?"
"No, my lady."
But he could guess how they had conducted their search: an extrapolation of his probable journeys and a supra-radio call to certain factors in the area where they predicted he would be. Del Meoud would have been eager to please so powerful an organization and others would be also.
Jocelyn cleared his throat. "One more thing," he said. "Why did you send for me?"
