What else was normal sight? Only the terminology was different. He saw in shape and form and color, she distinguished patterns. He saw solid objects of isolated mass, she recognized force fields and stress-complexes, "auras" of varying size, hue, and form.
Sufan's guide to find a dream.
He said, "Embira, how long were you with the Schell-Peng?"
"All my life."
"As far back as you can remember, you mean. They wouldn't have taken you as a baby. Was your past never mentioned?"
"No, Earl. They trained me. Always they trained me, and sometimes they hurt me. I think they did things-" Her hands lifted toward her face, her eyes. "No. I can't remember."
It was kinder not to press. Rising, Dumarest said, "I want to examine you, Embira. I may touch you, do you mind?"
"No."
Her face turned up toward him as he lifted fingers beneath her chin, the cheeks petal-smooth, the forehead unlined. Her skin was warm with a velvet softness and the perfume Pacula had sprayed onto her hair rose to engulf him in a scented cloud. Carefully he studied her eyes, seeing no sign of scars or adapted tissue. The balls seemed to be covered with an opaque film shot with lambent strands, the irises and pupils invisible.
"Earl, your hands, they are so firm."
"I won't hurt you. Can you move your eyes? No? Never mind."
The gown had long sleeves. He lifted them and looked at the expanse of her arms.
"Do you want to see the rest of me, Earl?" Her voice was innocent of double meaning. "Shall I undress?"
"No, that won't be necessary. Do you know why you are here, Embira?"
"Sufan Noyoka told me. I am to guide you."
"Can you?"
"I don't know, Earl, but I will try. I will do anything you want."
"No, Embira," he said, harshly. "Not what I want. Not what Sufan Noyoka wants or any other person. You're not a slave. You do as you want and nothing else. You understand?"
"But I was bought-"
"You were stolen," he interrupted. "You belong to no one but yourself. You owe nothing to anyone."
A lesson he tried to drive home. The girl was too vulnerable and had yet to be armored against the cruel reality of life.
For a long moment she sat, silent, then said, slowly, "You mean well, Earl, I know that. But you are wrong. I do owe you something. But only you, Earl. For you I would do anything."
A child speaking with an unthinking innocence, unaware of the implication, the unspoken invitation. Then, looking at her, he realized how wrong that was. She was not a child but a fully mature woman with all a woman's instincts. His touch had triggered a response to his masculinity; a biochemical reaction as old as time.
Aware of his scrutiny she said, "At the laboratories they told me I was very beautiful. Am I?"
"Yes."
"And you like me?"
"You're a member of this expedition. I like you no more and no less than the others."
Outside the cabin Pacula was waiting, Marek at her side. As she brushed past Dumarest and closed the door he smiled.
"The girl has stimulated her maternal instincts, Earl. Twice I had to stop her from interfering. And, of course, there could be a touch of jealously. The girl is very lovely, don't you agree?"
Dumarest said, "I owe you thanks."
"For the scream? It was nothing, a diversion created without personal danger, and it amused me to see you overcome those men." Pausing, Marek added casually, "One other thing, Earl. It might interest you to know we are being followed."
"A ship?"
"From Chamelard. It left shortly after we did, but don't worry, we are pulling ahead. And contact is impossible. A small accident to the radio, you understand. I thought it wise."
How much did the man know or suspect? A lover of puzzles, a man proud of his talent, could he have associations with the Cyclan? And Dumarest could guess what the following ship contained. A cyber who had predicted his movements and had arrived on Chamelard a little too late.
He said, "The Schell-Peng must be eager for revenge."
"That's what I thought." Marek's eyes were bland. "And with a captain like ours it would be stupid to take chances. He would think nothing of cooperating if the reward were high enough. Us evicted, the girl handed over, money received, the Mayna his without question-why should he risk his neck searching for a legendary world?"
A facile explanation and, Dumarest hoped, a true one. But from a man who courted danger?
A matter of degree, he decided. The risk of betrayal was nothing against the perils that waited for them in the Hichen Cloud.
Chapter Ten
The first shock came ten days later, a jerk as if the vessel had been struck by a giant hand, and as the alarms shrilled Dumarest ran to the control room. The girl was already at her station, sitting in a chair behind the one occupied by Rae Acilus.
The captain was curt. "There is no place for you here, Earl."
"I want him to stay." Embira reached out and took his hand, groping until he placed his fingers within her own. "Earl, you stay with me?"
"I'll stay."
"Then don't interfere." Acilus's voice was the rap of a martinet. "I've enough to think about as it is. Jarv?"
The navigator was at his post, Sufan Noyoka at his side. On all sides massed instruments hummed and flashed in quiet efficiency; electronic probes and sensors scanning the void, a computer correlating the assembled information, mechanical brains, eyes and fingers which alone could guide the vessel on its path from star to star.
Again the ship jerked, warning bells ringing, the alarms dying as the captain hit a switch. An impatient gesture born of necessity-within the Cloud the alarms would be constant.
Dumarest stared at the picture depicted on the screens.
He had been in dust clouds before, riding traders risking destruction for the sake of profit, and had no illusions as to the dangers they faced. The space ahead, filled with broken atoms and minute particles of matter was an electronic maelstrom. Opposed charges, building, wrenched the very fabric of the continuum and altered the normal laws of space and time. Only by delicate questing and following relatively safe paths could a vessel hope to survive and always was the danger of shifting nodes of elemental force, which could turn a ship into molten ruin, rip it, turn it inside out, crush it so as to leave the crew little more than crimson smears.
And the Mayna was going too fast. Sufan had placed too much faith in the girl's ability.
"Up!" she said. "Quickly!"
Ahead space looked normal, the instruments registering nothing but a dense magnetic field, but the forces which affected the registers could affect human brains so eyes saw other than reality.
"Obey!" snapped Sufan as the captain hesitated. "Follow Embira's instructions at all times without hesitation."
The ship sang as, too late, the captain moved his controls. A thin, high-pitched ringing which climbed to the upper limit of audibility and beyond. Dumarest felt the pain at his ears, saw ruby glitters sparkle from the telltales, then it was over as they brushed the edge of the danger.
Opposing currents which had vibrated the hull as if it had been a membrane shaken by a wind. Yet, around them, space seemed clear.
"Left," she said and then quickly, "and down!"
This time Acilus obeyed without delay.
Dumarest said, "What route are we following?"
As yet Sufan had been mysterious, conferring with Jarv Nonach and Marek Cognez alone, making computations and avoiding questions. Hugging the secret of his discovery as if it were a precious gem. But now Dumarest wanted answers.
"Tell me, Sufan. How do we find Balhadorha?"
"We must reach the heart of the Cloud," said the man reluctantly. "There are three suns in close proximity and the Ghost World should be at the common point between them."