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 apartment, 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-"

"A matter for medical confidence." Kooga was bland as he interrupted. "The patient is in good hands and is as comfortable as can be expected in the circumstances. Now that your curiosity has been satisfied you may leave. The Chief will escort you from the premises."

She said, "Chief Vaclav will leave us. You will remain." To Vaclav she said, "I'll see you later."

Dismissal which he accepted but in the passage he paused, looking at a reflective surface, not proud of what he saw. A man too old, too established in set ways; he had somehow lost his original zest. Not as tall as he would have liked, not as slim, and far less handsome. Not as clever as the doctor who held the literal power of life and death in his hands. He could only hold and question and send for trial or release. Suffer the burning of stomach acids eating into ulcers when he was forced to swallow his pride. Know tormented nights when, for expediency, he acted more like a servant than a free man. Feel self-revulsion when he was spoken to like a dog and treated like an object of contempt.

Maybe he should have let the bitch kill the cyber and so make an end.

In the room Kooga waited as before for the sound of departing footsteps to fade then he said, firmly, "Let us get one thing straight, madam. Here I am the master. I give the orders. I am the one to be obeyed."

"You are bold," she said. "But stupid. I rule the Karroum-does that mean nothing to you?"

"It means you're rich but-"

"I own this hospital. I own the research facilities attached to it. I probably own your house and the schools your children attend. You have children?"

"Two boys and a girl. What has that to do with it?"

"Children and a wife and, maybe, dependent relatives all enjoying the good things of life. All coming from you, Doctor, and, through you, from me. What promises have the Cyclan made?" She pursed her lips as he made no answer. "Wealth? Position? A place in one of their hospitals?"

"They will appreciate all I do for Cyber Avro."

"So it seems you have a choice. You can rely on their promises or risk the certainty of my anger. On the one hand you stand to gain-what? On the other you will lose your position here. You will lose your house. Your children will be denied their schools. No one claiming affinity with the Karroum will employ you. You will be ostracized. You, your wife, your children, your relatives-need I say more?"

He said, flatly, "You can't. You wouldn't."

"You challenge my power?" Her face became ugly. "I could break you as you could break that nurse who came in here. This is your world, Kooga, but it is only a part of mine. Who is going to fight for you? Who will dare to defy me? Within a year you'll be ruined, your children begging in the streets. And never think I'd hesitate at doing it. The honor of the Karroum is at stake. Make your choice, Doctor."

The promise of friendship from a vast power against the angry spite of a fanatical old woman. If he refused her would the Cyclan restore what she would take? And what if, despite his care, Avro should die before they arrived?

He said, "The pattern from the encephalograph is dictated by an unusual growth in the cyber's cortex. A mass of what seems to be alien tissue which has become incorporated with the basic structure."

"Alien? A cancer?"

"I'm not too sure. The Cyclan has ordered no samples to be taken or investigations made. Those advising me seemed to be aware of the condition and ordered me to take steps to relieve the pressure. This I did by extensive trepanning. The exposed areas of the brain are now covered with plastic domes containing a sterile vapor."

The brain almost naked, pulsing beneath transparent bowls, the whole covered with dressing to hold them in place and hide them from view. And she had been tempted to slap the lax and empty face!

"Can he be revived enough to talk?" She altered the question. "Does he have periods of loquacity?"

"At times he rambles but seems to be unaware of what is near. Almost it is as if he is vocalizing dreams."

"Such as?"

"Birds. Flying. Falling." Kooga shrugged. "Just ramblings."

"Does he answer direct questions?" Again she altered the question. "Can you arrange for him to do so?"

"He is resting in a delicate metabolic balance and to stimulate his consciousness could have unfortunate results. His constitution is poor and I am attempting to bolster it. He is too weak for slow time to be effective-he would die of starvation before any cure could be effected. The alternative, cryogenic treatment, I am reserving for any later emergency."

Frozen, drugged, held in suspended animation with all life-processes slowed. Had Kooga already used it Avro would be beyond her reach. Thoughtfully Mirza looked at him, at the push-button by his limp hand.

"Why the bell if you don't expect him to revive?"

"An elementary precaution. Aside from the growth in his skull he isn't really ill. His distress is caused by side effects of the pressure and, if it could be removed, he might regain full use of his faculties. In such cases remissions are common. Momentary flashes of awareness or periods which could last some time."

"In which he would be lucid?"

"Of course. There is no viral or bacteriological infection. No broken bones. No organic degeneration to flood the system with toxic wastes. His sense of awareness is distorted by the growth which has disorganized his normal cerebral function."

Like a tumor causing headache, madness and final death. Pain through impact with the appropriate center, apathy, loss of muscular control. And yet Kooga claimed he wasn't really ill. Not in the strict medical sense, maybe, but certainly in the engineering. Yet, if he had remissions, he could still be of help.

She told Kooga how and he frowned.

"It will be difficult."

"Tell me how? All we need is a bone-conductor speaker and a larynx-mike. I'll make a tape for continuous play. If it breaks into his awareness he'll know what I want. If he has a remission he'll be able to whisper the answer." She added, sensing his waning reluctance, "Do it and you'll have my favor. Anything you get from the Cyclan will be a bonus."

"I won't risk his life."

"All I want is to use his ability. His special skill. The answer to a single question." She drew in her breath. "Where the hell to find Dumarest."

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