"Fiona!"
Vardoon dived toward Kalova, his face a bestial mask of animal fury, hands reaching to grab and tear, to twist and break. Even as he called, Dumarest was moving, one hand snatching up a heavy ornament to send it like a bullet into the acolyte's face, to crush his temple and send him staggering backwards, his hand falling with the gun it had held, dead before he touched the floor.
"Hold!" Zao also was armed. The beam from his laser touched the floor and created rising smoke. "Move and I burn your legs!"
Dumarest froze, hand reaching to the knife in his boot. The cyber had moved faster than he'd guessed, anticipating Kalova's explosion, Vardoon's reaction. Now he glanced at the slumped body of the woman, the man crouched beside her, Kalova's body lying with a broken neck to one side. The laser, knocked from his hand, rested at the base of the tall vase of crystalline flowers.
"Lift your hand, Dumarest. Up. Higher." The muzzle of his gun emphasized the command. "I warn you against trying anything foolish. Your speed is well known to the Cyclan and I took accelerating drugs as a precaution. Reach for that knife and I will burn off your hand before you can touch it. Burn out your eyes too, if it becomes necessary. Now lift your other hand. Raise them both well above your head. Now move back against the wall and turn to face it."
He stood with arms raised to wait for the blast of the drug from the hypogun which would render him totally helpless. In the mirror he could see Zao as he produced it to hold in his other hand. A tall, scarlet shape reflected in the mirror, multiplied by added reflections from the mirrors to either side.
Mirrors!
Dumarest moved, throwing himself to one side, feeling the heat as the laser seared his thigh. Plastic burned to reveal the protective mesh beneath. A fraction of time and then the beam, reflected from the mirror, hit another, a third and bounced back toward its source. As the scarlet robe burst into flame Dumarest threw his knife.
It lanced through the air, a glittering extension of his arm, to reach the skull-like face, an eye, to bury its point deep into the brain. As Zao fell, Dumarest joined Vardoon at the woman's side.
"Earl!" The laser had slashed her face, blinding an eye, ruining the nose, the cheek, the edge of her jaw, but the untouched mouth managed to smile. "Forgive me, darling? Please forgive me."
"She's dying," said Vardoon. "Dying!"
The face could be healed, the breasts, but the beam had seared too deeply into her stomach. The spleen was damaged, the liver, the kidneys and spine. The intestines had been cut-only the cauterizing effect of the laser which sealed as it cut had enabled her to live so long.
"Earl!" The hand which gripped his tightened. "I had to do it. You understand? To win-nothing else mattered. To win at any cost. You taught me that, my darling. Earl! I love you!"
Blood reddened her lips as Dumarest lifted his free hand to touch her throat and search for the carotids. Vardoon knocked it away before he could apply merciful pressure.
"No, Earl, not that!" The box in his hand opened to reveal clustered golden pearls. "This!"
The nectar of heaven.
Vardoon gave it and Dumarest watched as, smiling, she died.
A wind had carried rain from the sea, a thin downpour which left sparkling droplets on the shrubs and trees, to hang like transient gems on the perimeter fence of the field. Underfoot the ground was dark with a rich, brown dampness which would soon dry beneath the heat of the sun. As the clouds to the north would thin and fray apart to reveal the distant loom of the storm-wracked hills.
Kicking a stone, Vardoon said, "You don't have to go, Earl. There's a home for you here for as long as you want it."
"I know."
"A safe place. If anyone comes looking for you they'll be wasting their time." He paused then said abruptly, "She loved you. I guess you know that. In her way she really loved you."
Dumarest looked at the sky, not wanting to answer.
"Not that it matters." Vardoon sucked in his breath and shook his head. "It's all over now. That lunatic! If it hadn't been for him she'd be alive this moment."
And he would be a helpless prisoner. A point Dumarest didn't mention as he remained silent about others. Instead he said, "So you're staying."
"Until things get sorted out." Vardoon looked at the ship waiting on the field; a small, battered trader on which Dumarest had booked passage. "About money, Earl. You gave your share to Bulem and the rest is tied up as registered assets. It can't be touched while things remain as they are. All we have is the eggs used to dazzle the marks. It's yours together with this." A bag accompanied the box. "Some of Fiona's jewelry. All the cash I could find. The cost of maybe a dozen High passages. Wait for the next ship and it could be a lot more."
"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.