"This will do." To wait was to meet the cybers who would be already on their way. Dumarest looked to where a monk stood by the fence. "I'll be back."
Tobol greeted him with a smile. "An old custom," he said. "One I like to observe; to wish a friend a pleasant journey and to see him on his way."
"You think of me as a friend?"
"You consider yourself an enemy?"
"Of the Church? No." Dumarest looked at where Vardoon waited. "Will there be trouble?"
"Over the inheritance? No. There are records and they will prove his claim. He is extremely reluctant to make it but I think he has been persuaded to see the necessity. Odd how she never suspected who he really was."
"He is scarred," said Dumarest. "And she was young at the time. Also there was the matter of shame-he had run from his responsibilities."
"A man old enough to be ambitious and yet too young to have any real power. He must have hated seeing his mother make such obvious mistakes. Hated his uncle too, perhaps, but all that is in the past."
"If you continue to advise him suggest that he propose to the holders that no cyber should be allowed to give his services to any one individual. A total ban would be better. Suggest, too, that it would be wise to extend the field of those qualified."
"Smaller holdings and more to share them." Tobol nodded his agreement. "Destroy the resident-concept and allow free enterprise and this society might well be able to survive." He looked at the box Dumarest held toward him. "For the Church?"
"All of if."
"You are more than generous." Tobol looked up from the open receptacle, startled. "All of it?"
"To ease the dying." He remembered Fiona, the pain she would have suffered when shocked nerves had resumed their function. "To sell if you want. To use as you decide. I want none of it."
A man dedicated to life; uninterested in the means of death. Tobol tucked the box under his arm, lifting a hand in farewell as Dumarest walked away.
Vardoon came to meet him as the warning siren echoed across the field.
"Time's running out, Earl."
"I know."
"Need any help getting aboard?" Vardoon shrugged as Dumarest smiled. "No, I guess not, but I wish I were coming with you."
"You've work to do here."
"I know. Well, take care of yourself and don't forget there's a home here whenever you want it." Vardoon held out his hands, palms upward in the mercenary salute of peace. "Good-bye, Earl."
"Good-bye-Emil."
Dumarest turned and walked across the field to the waiting ship, the sky, the empty spaces between the stars.