This time the lifter landed on the terrace. The new passenger was a slim brown-haired woman, with enormous gray eyes in a pale face, dressed in a long flowing blue gown. There was something virginal and even slightly otherworldly about her.
«Read him,» ordered Detcharn. The lifter took off, and the blast from its propeller made the woman's hair fly out behind her like a flag. She patted it into position, came up to Blade, put one hand on his chest and another on his forehead, and screwed her own face up into a look of total concentration.
Blade' had just time to form a mental picture of himself and Cheeky in Kaldak and hold it. He didn't have time to make a convincing picture of him and the feather-monkey doing anything. It was a static image, and he was more than slightly worried that the telepathic woman would be able to detect the image for what it was-an effort to deceive her and block her from learning the truth.
Blade suppressed the worry vigorously. Any unusual emotion might give the woman a clue. Cheeky was at least that sensitive to Blade's emotions; why shouldn't a human telepath be even more so?
At least he wouldn't have to warn Cheeky not to cooperate with anyone in Doimar. After the treatment he'd received and the vengeance he'd taken, Cheeky would let himself be plucked naked rather than help the Doimari or betray the friend he'd found again after so long.
The mental pulses Blade felt were so faint and fumbling that at times he wasn't sure if they were there at all. They lasted for quite a while, though, and he saw sweat on the woman's forehead. He hoped she wouldn't collapse. Detcharn would simply bring in another telepath, who might be more powerful or at least forewarned. He also might try other, more physical methods of interrogation.
At last the woman started to vibrate all over like a plucked harpstring. She closed her eyes and stepped away from Blade, then caught at the railing with both hands. Blade gripped her shoulders to make sure she didn't lose balance and fall. She twisted out of his grasp, went to her knees, and vomited.
At last she rose, wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her robe, and turned back to Detcharn. «He is telling the truth about himself and the-he calls it Cheeky. To Voros, Cheeky is not an animal. And they do speak mind to mind, in a way I have never met before.»
«A way worth studying?»
«Certainly, if any form of mind-to-mind speech is worth studying. I thought we had decided that long ago.» She met Detcharn's sharp look fearlessly. «Also, we will study it much better when Cheeky recovers from what he has suffered in there.» If her eyes had been lasers, the look she threw at the laboratory door would have melted it.
Detcharn shrugged. «Well, Eshorn has paid already.» The telepath shuddered and Cheeky yeeeped as they both seemed to pick up ugly thoughts from Detcharn. «As for these fools …» He turned toward the three guards, drew his laser, and shot one in the belly. The other two stood as if paralyzed until their comrade started to scream.
One of them backed away, as if he wanted to melt into the cliff and get away. The other charged Detcharn. The black-clad man put his laser down and waited for the guard in unarmed-combat stance. His face showed something horribly like lust. Blade found his own hands itching to pick up Detcharn and pitch him over the balcony.
It wasn't a fight, any more than it's a fight when a cat kills a mouse. Detcharn toyed with the man for a couple of minutes, even letting him land one or two harmless blows. Then swiftly he broke the man's left arm, chopping him across the throat, and levered him over the railing. The man screamed all the way down the cliff to his landing in a puff of dust.
The last guard didn't wait to find out what Detcharn had in mind for him. He went over the railing by himself, and fell silently down the three hundred feet to the plain.
Detcharn wiped his hands on the clothing of the still-living first guard. Blade, the telepath, and Cheeky watched in silence. Cheeky's tail was curled tightly under his body. Blade scratched his head to relax the feather-monkey, although he himself felt anything but relaxed.
The telepath went over to the dying guard and laid her hands on his forehead. After a moment his eyes closed and he stopped moaning. Had she simply blocked the pain, or actually willed him to death?
«Even for you, Detcharn, was this not more than what was needed?» asked the telepath. Her face was a mask and her voice toneless.
Detcharn started. «No! Never! Such will always be needed, with fools who stand between me and what I must do! Has your wish to cleanse our blood and avenge the great defeat weakened so much? If it has, you should fear me, Moshra.»
«I am past fearing you, Detcharn,» said Moshra. «And my desire to prove the worth of our blood is as strong as yours. Does that mean I can have no opinion of my own, as to the best way of proving it? If you think so, you are the only man in Doimar who does?»
After a moment, Detcharn shrugged. «Very well, sister. I will be less quick with the guards and other weapons-bearers. I cannot guard my back against all of them, and with the Day so close. .» His fingers writhed like snakes. «Then everyone will know that the blood of the Sky Master Blade has finally given the victory to Doimar.»
Blade looked quickly from one face to another. There was a family resemblance. And now that he looked more closely, both of them had something else in common ….
«The Sky Master Blade?» Blade chose his words and controlled his voice carefully. He also hoped Moshra could only read his mind while touching him!
«Yes. He was father to both of us,» snapped Detcharn. «Us and four others. The Kaldakans think they got the best from Blade, because he betrayed us. But they will learn otherwise, when a son of their precious Sky Master brings them down. Oh, yes, they will learn, and soon.» The lustful look was back on his face. Moshra turned away and looked firmly out over the plain.
After a moment, Blade joined her. This Dimension seemed to be producing weird family reunions! First Baliza with her attempted seduction, and now Moshra with her telepathy and Detcharn with his mad drive to prove that her father's blood did not taint him.
Blade gripped the railing hard, until his knuckles turned white. The urge to kill Detcharn was back again, even stronger than before. So was sheer nausea, that this homicidal maniac-there was no other word for it-was his son.
My son, thought Blade. What have I unleashed on this Dimension, by playing stud with the women of Doimar the first time I was here?
And another thought: What can I do to get it back on the leash?
Stating the problem he had to solve calmed him and got his mind working again. The next time Detcharn spoke to him, Blade was even able to reply normally. At least Detcharn didn't notice anything wrong, and Moshra still stood with her back to the two men.
Chapter 16
Blade quickly realized the missile base was the key to defeating Detcharn's plans and ending any immediate threat to Kaldak. Detcharn was so proud of the missiles that he hadn't bothered to develop any other way of spreading the fever germs. If the missile silos were wrecked and Kaldak warned of what they might be facing, there would be no quick war ending in an easy victory for Doimar. Blade could hope that Detcharn wouldn't persuade the Doimari to follow him in a long war. He seemed the type to make enemies who would take advantage of his first defeat to get rid of him for good.
Blade wished he could be sure of this, but quickly learned he wasn't going to know this or a lot of other things about the new Doimar. He was no longer a prisoner, but he was still something less than a guest. He was seldom allowed outside the research complex, and neither the guards nor the Seekers would answer his questions.