But the arena was a place in which only one law was paramount-to survive. Here the action was hedged with rules and custom, accepted forms of behavior as if the participants were following the dictates of ancient chivalry.
Dumarest said, "Have you those who owe you favors? Contact them and make a deal. They to eliminate one of the weakest in return for you meeting all costs and later support."
"Drive a holder out? By conspiracy? Earl-that's assassination!"
"Do it!"
"But-"
She was thinking of her reputation, the scorn and contempt she would have to face. Dumarest said urgently, "You remember when we played chess? What I did? What I told you? To win is all that counts." He added dryly, "And remember-the winner never has to pay."
A spur which sent her hand to the phone. As she activated it Vardoon drew Dumarest out of range of its scanner.
"A dangerous game, Earl. Kalova could do just what you've advised. Arrange a series of forced auctions and keep milking her until she's too weak to resist."
"How long would that take?"
"It won't be quick but it'll be inevitable. In order to keep that sector she'll have to bid far higher than it's worth."
The balance taken by the bank; a detail Dumarest had learned as he had others. But to know the moves was not to be a master of the game.
Again he began to pace the room, seeing his reflected image grow and diminish, waver and distort as reflection was caught by reflection, the whole painted with shifting hues. What would Zao be doing? If he was advising Kalova then why the delay? The cyber would have no time for elaborate and inefficient maneuverings and any plan he had devised would be apparent by now. Kalova must be operating alone-an unexpected bonus.
"It's done," Fiona called from her chair, face drawn beneath the curtain of hair. Tresses which she lifted to tuck beneath a gemmed band. "Kelman is down and out."
A name without meaning but, somewhere in the city, a man stared at his display and felt the sickness of utter defeat. Dumarest said, "Bid for sector N 89."
"Earl, that holding's useless!"
"Bid!"
A moment then he heard her sharp inhalation. "This is crazy! Maiden's bidding too!"
One of Vardoon's prospects; a minor holder jumping the gun. He was joined by another; Myra Lancing who had demanded more than a kiss.
"Keep the bidding high," said Dumarest. "Force up the price but duck out before you get stuck with it."
To bleed Kalova in a forced auction. To weaken those already weak if he should prove too shrewd. To fight in the terms of the arena where to lose was to die.
The pills were small, blue, potent Kalova swallowed three and swore as his reaching hand knocked over the goblet of wine. Too much wine and too many pills, but his strength had to be maintained, his clarity of mind. Tiredness now would cloud his ability and cost him more than he could afford.
Why was the bitch so stubborn?
Attack after attack had been bested and still she continued to fight. And now she was attacking his own holdings in the north. She and other fools who should know better.
The phone and Chargel. "Maximus-N 76 for S 21?"
More interest in the north! "No!"
"For S21 and S15?"
Holdings on the edge of the continental shelf but his own was little better. Yet the fact it was wanted woke suspicion. Chargel was too shrewd to chase barren rock in the storm-torn hills unless he had a good reason.
"No!"
The screen died and Kalova sank back in his chair, watching the dancing signals with eyes grown sore with strain. How long had it been? A glance at the clock could have told him but he had his own measure of time. It had been too long, an age, an eternity, and still there was no sign of an end. Would he have to fight on for the rest of the day? The following night? The day after that? Such tremendous engagements had been known in the past but now were the stuff of legend.
Why the interest in the north?
He scowled as yet another forced auction came into being: Bulem, Dulet, Lancing and Sand. Fools who asked for the punishment they deserved for daring to bait the Maximus. Even as he matched and beat their bids he was assessing their resources. All were minor holders but Sand the most vulnerable. It would be easy to make him an example.
A thing done with the ease of a hammer crushing an ant, his holdings taken at a cost he could meet, arid lands of small revenue. A liability but he would not hold them for long.
"My lord!" Zao's face on the screen. "I have been following the situation and-"
"Not now, Cyber!"
"I would suggest that-"
The voice died as the image faded, both victims of a broken connection. Kalova sat, fuming, hand shaking as he reached for more pills. Did Zao expect him to come whining to heel? To beg the cyber for his aid and so admit his incapability? Did the man think he was too old to have skill? Too old to fight?
He snarled as, again, he was attacked in the north. Three sectors this time and all high in the hills. Too high for comfort and too close to his private installations to be lost. He triggered responses, outbid the opposition, swore as others took their place. Were they all mad? The price they offered was far in excess of the registered value yet they could not all be fools.
The phone and Lynne Oldrant. "Sector F 37, Maximus. How much?"
The field, now of negative revenue. A liability now; he needed liquid assets and he could always get it back later. The woman blinked at his demand and, reluctantly, shook her head.
"Too high, Maximus. Cut it by a third and it's a deal."
"A quarter."
"Done!"
In his office Zao saw the transaction registered on his repeater display, saw too the sudden flurry of renewed activity in the north. More attacks on the Maximus and, like a reactive animal, he could only respond in one way. An emotional cripple now wrapped in a web of self-deception and incapable of objective detachment.
The woman?
Her rejection had been no more than a trigger and it could have come from any other. A denial of Kalova's self-image of supreme authority. A blow at his ego which, in his mental condition, he had interpreted as an attack on his life. To destroy the woman had become of paramount necessity. Old, failing, such a destruction would give him assurance that he was still capable, still strong.
It was time he should be replaced.
Arment? The logical choice but he was too strong. Helm the same. Chargel, Barracola, even Traske. They would accept his aid and promise all and even keep that promise for a while but, later, their own strength would urge them to rebel.
Fiona Velen?
A choice he had considered before and the new factors recently introduced did not alter the basic premise. She was devoid of a potentially troublesome family, young enough to be malleable, intelligent enough to have held her own since inheriting from Carmodyne. Her association with Dumarest presented no real problem; her own narcissism would diminish his importance.
More activity on the display and Zao rose to his feet. Kalova had to be stopped before it was too late.
The woman guarding his outer office was stubborn. "I am sorry but the Maximus is not to be disturbed. He gave explicit orders to that effect."
"This is an emergency."
"For whom?" She didn't like the cyber and took pleasure in showing it. "If he wants to see you he will send word to that effect."
Time wasting which he could not afford. Zao stepped closer to where she sat, the index finger of his left hand extended to touch her wrist, the sliver of metal carried beneath the nail pressing, breaking the skin, driving the drug it carried into her blood. She was dead before he removed his hand.
"You!" Kalova spun in his chair as Zao approached. "I left orders I was not to be disturbed."