"I'd be dead. You saved my life."
"Good." Her eyes, in their smudged sockets, held a liquid tenderness. "Then it wasn't a waste. Earl!"
"Easy!" His hand moved to her throat, fingers finding the pulse of the carotid arteries beneath the skin. A pressure and she would be free of pain. "Easy, now."
"It's gone. The pain, I mean." Her eyes were suddenly clear, sharply direct. "I love you, darling. I love you."
"And I you, Ysanne."
"Kiss me, darling." She sighed as he lifted his stained mouth. "I wanted to give you so much; sons, daughters, children of your body. Too late now, but at least I gave you what you wanted most of all. I found Earth, darling. I gave you that."
"Yes, Ysanne, you gave me that."
He stooped to kiss her again and, when he straightened, she was dead.
The day was ending with swaths of red and orange, gold and amber, dusty yellow and pale lavender streaming from the western horizon. A display which painted the sky with glory; banners to herald the coming splendor of the night.
Dumarest watched it as he stood beside the mound, the board at its head bearing a seared and stained tunic, one of leather ornamented with beads and symbols and patches of once-bright ornamentation. The rustle of grass lowered his head and he saw Belkner and Ava Vasudiva walking toward him.
"Earl!" She came on ahead, eyes moist with a woman's understanding. "Earl-I'm sorry." The hand she'd dropped on his arm tightened with sympathy. "You must have loved her very much."
"She saved my life."
"I know. I heard." She looked back to where Belkner was waiting. "The loading is almost finished, Earl. Can we help you back to the ship?"
"I can manage." Limping on the leg she had treated, the joint immobilized with splints and bandages. Given time it would heal. "Are you sorry to leave?"
"No." She looked at the sky, the distant shimmer of darting wings. "We could have been friends," she said. "Worked together or at least cooperated. Farnham put an end to that. This is their world, Earl, let them have it."
The land, the sky, the vast and empty spaces. Moving slowly back to the Erce Dumarest looked at the abandoned settlement. The last of the Ypsheim were mounting the ramp, some holding small possessions, most empty-handed. The graves of their dead ran in a line from north to south. Too many graves in a line too long.
"We tried," said Belkner. "And we failed. But we also learned. The next time we'll make it. And there will be a next time-thanks to you."
"Forget it," said Dumarest. "Get aboard."
"And you?"
"Leave him." Ava was more discerning. "Don't worry about him, Leo, he'll follow us."
Alone Dumarest looked at the sky, the distant hills, the expanse of rolling sward. Already night was working its magic, the fading light creating softening shadows and patches of mystery. Touching the area with a haunting enigma so that, for a moment, he imagined it peopled with ghosts.
As stars showed their pale glimmers in the firmament he slowly mounted the ramp.
Batrun was in the control room, housed in the big chair, the instruments around him signaling the readiness of the ship to depart. A warm, safe, comfortable world all the more secure now the Seldah had left, gun-mechanisms wrecked, the vessel far distant on its homeward journey.
As Dumarest leaned his weight on the back of the chair Batrun lifted his open hand. Lying on the palm was a red ampule, needle-tipped, the surface grooved.
"Some things I know, Earl. Others I can guess. A few I'd be better knowing nothing about. This, maybe, I found it in the angel's cabin."
The submissive half of the affinity twin, used on the angel, dropped when Dumarest had led it to freedom.
Taking it he said, "You know why the cyber had to be kept alive?"
"Sure, the crew would have killed us had he died."
"It's more than that. Somehow he can communicate with others and they would have known had he died. Known and come running. This way we buy time."
The opportunity to run, to hide, to get lost in the vastness of the galaxy. But alone-a ship left too marked a trail.
"We'll drop the Ypsheim," said Dumarest. "On a world as far as you can make in safety. Then we move on to another. One with plenty of shipping. That's where we part company."
"Part? But-"
"You keep the Erce. Find partners and pay me what you can. As much as you can." Dumarest paused then added, "I can't ask for more but I'd appreciate it if you covered my trail. Move to a variety of worlds in a random pattern. The longer it takes the Cyclan to find you the better chance I'll have."
"And when they do?"
"Tell them the truth. You have no reason to lie."
Batrun looked at his hands. They were quivering and he reached for his snuff, opening the box and pinching up the last of the powder it contained.
"You've got a deal, Earl. Anything else?"
"The coordinates of this world. Forget them. Erase them from the computer. I don't want anything else to come here."
"Your world, Earl, I understand. And the angels-the Ypsheim wouldn't be the only ones to want their wings." Batrun snapped shut the box in his hand and stared at its bright ornamentation. "A bomb," he said musingly. "They thought it was a bomb. And Ysanne an agent-you had it all worked out. A bluff and you got away with it. A damned shame she had to die."
"Yes."
"One of the finest navigators I ever had. And fun to be with. I'll miss her." Batrun shook his head and then, remembering, said, "I'm sorry, Earl. I guess I talk too much at times. But, at least, she died happy. She'd given you Earth."
"No."
"But you said-" Batrun broke off. "You lied," he said. "She was dying and you lied to make her happy. But are you sure?"
Dumarest nodded, staring at the screens, the stars now thick in the sky. Too many stars and the moon, though large, lacked the skull-like image he remembered. Things which could have been blurred by the passage of time but one thing brooked no argument.
"Here." He drew a slip of plastic from the hollow of his belt. "You took a spectrograph of the sun, right?"
"Of course, Earl. It's standard procedure."
"Compare it with this."
The spectrum of a forgotten sun found on a world far distant in time and space, one he was convinced bore the unique pattern of Earth's sun. Dumarest watched as Batrun busied himself with an instrument. On the screen two patterns of color showed; rainbows traced with lines of varying density. Fraunhofer lines which the captain tried to match.
"It's close," he said. "Damned close, but they aren't identical. But if this world isn't Earth then what the hell is it?"
"Heaven," said Dumarest, and tasted the irony of a bitter jest. The trick used to lull the Ypsheim had been nothing but the simple truth. "Remember the mnemonic?" He began to repeat it as Ysanne had. "Thirty-two, forty, sixty-seven- that's the way to get to Heaven. Heaven, Andre. This world. That's what the Terridae called it."
Heaven-with angels.
One of which was now Cyber Avro. His mind within the creature's skull, the body his own by the magic of the affinity twin. Sensing what it sensed, feeling the emotions which burned through it, the euphoria of flight, the frenzy of mating.
Batrun said dully, "Ysanne was so certain. So sure that she was right. And you-Earl, what can I say?"
Nothing, for the woman was dead and a hope had been lost and all that was left was to head into space where, somewhere, Earth was waiting.