Yeon threw down the container of spores.
Dumarest moved. He flung himself forward, warned by the subtle movement of a sleeve, a tensing of the hand resting on the edge of the panel. His hand shot out, caught the glass ball, lifted it and threw it directly into the cyber's face.
It broke with a crystalline tinkle, a cloud of yellow rising about the shaven skull. Yeon staggered back as Dumarest thrust at his chest and slammed the door.
Sweating, he listened to the noises from outside, the bumping and threshing, muffled cries and incoherent moaning.
"Gods of space!" Jocelyn stood by the window. He pointed with a trembling hand. "Look at that!"
A scarlet figure stood outside. A growing ball of yellow frothed from the open robe, two smaller ones hung at the end of each sleeve. Yeon had staggered outside unaware of direction. He could feel no pain but the multiplying fungus clogged his mouth and his nostrils, grew on the surface of his eyes, sprouted from his ears and filled his lungs. It dug into his flesh, thrusting through the pores of his skin, growing until even the scarlet of the robe was hidden.
After a while the threshing stopped and a swollen ball of yellow fungus lay quivering on the ground.
* * *
Dumarest dug his spoon into a mound of emerald jelly, tasted it and found it both astringent and smooth to the tongue. "The cyber had an accident," he said. "That is all you need to say. The Cyclan are not eager for their intrigues to come to light."
Adrienne frowned. "But what of their aid? How can we manage without their guidance?"
"As we did before, my dear." Jocelyn was sharp. "You did not hear the man. He regarded you as a beast to be put to breeding for the Cyclan's purpose. Perhaps that would not have bothered you, but once the child had been accepted, how long do you think you would have been permitted to stay alive?"
"Surely you exaggerate."
Dumarest put down his spoon. The cabin was snug and intimate with its ancient furnishings. It only needed an open fire to complete the illusion that it was part of a stronghold rather than a space vessel.
"Never underestimate the Cyclan, my lady," he said. "Their plans are subtle and rarely as innocent as they seem. They are like spiders twitching the strands of a web so as to ensnare those over whom they seek power." Casually he added. "Tell me, do you have many cybers on your home world?"
"None now," she said. "Yeon was the only one and he came with us."
"And how long had he been there, a few months, perhaps, a short while before the negotiations began for your marriage?" Dumarest smiled at Jocelyn's expression. "Yes, my lord. Even that was a plan of the Cyclan's. You see how far ahead they look?"
"But the malfunction of the vessel? How could he have known that we would go to Scar?"
"Because he wanted to go there," said Dumarest flatly. "Where the Cyclan are concerned, there is no such thing as chance. On your own admission you rule a poor world. Men are human, the Cyclan is powerful and a poor man would think twice at defying them. And so a small malfunction of the ship, a captain who mentions a peculiar circumstance. Given your preoccupation with destiny, the rest was inevitable."
Jocelyn nodded thoughtfully as he sat in his chair. "Destiny," he said. "Could not the Cyclan themselves be instruments of fate?"
"They could," admitted Dumarest. "Brother Jeffrey could answer you better than I."
He caught Adrienne's start and inwardly smiled. Give it time and the gentle power of the Universal Brotherhood would dull her ambition. Once beneath the benediction light, she would discover an unexpected happiness in being gentle, kind, considerate and thoughtful of others-and she would be conditioned against seeking the death of another.
"The ring," said Jocelyn abruptly. "I understand that you trapped the factor, that the man hadn't spoken at all, but why should he want it?"
"He didn't," said Dumarest. "The Cyclan did-does," he corrected, looking at the ruby fire on his left hand. "But he tried to collect it for them. I thought at first it might be the gambler who was responsible for sending those men after me, but Ewan was innocent. He even tried to warn me and went so far as to speak of a ring. He wouldn't have done that if he had been involved."
Adrienne was curious. "I still can't understand why they want it, Earl. Do you know why?"
"No, my lady."
But he could guess how they had conducted their search: an extrapolation of his probable journeys and a supra-radio call to certain factors in the area where they predicted he would be. Del Meoud would have been eager to please so powerful an organization and others would be also.
Jocelyn cleared his throat. "One more thing," he said. "Why did you send for me?"
"As a witness, my lord."
"A witness? On Scar where there is no law." The ruler of Jest shook his head. "You are discreet, Earl, but I can guess the reason. You suspected that I might be involved, working with the cyber in order to steal your treasure. If I had you would have killed me."
"Yes, my lord."
"At least you are honest and do not lie," said Jocelyn. "Not when it is unnecessary, and I cannot blame you. Your sojourn in the water could not have been pleasant."
Dumarest smiled at the understatement. "What have you done with the golden spore, my lord?"
"Baron Haig has taken it in his charge. He is sure that it will be possible to breed it under controlled environments on Jest. Always before expense has limited the quantity available, but with the large amount you obtained he has enough and to spare for errors." Jocelyn sighed with pleasant anticipation. "It will make us wealthy, Earl. Independent of external aid. We might even be able to end the struggles of those who seek it on Scar."
"They wouldn't thank you for it, my lord," said Dumarest.
"I suppose not," admitted Jocelyn. He looked at his guest. "We owe you much, Earl. Come with us to Jest. Agree and I will return a quarter of the value of the spore, and I will make you an earl. You will be the richest noble on the planet."
Dumarest felt the impact of Adrienne's eyes. "I am sorry, my lord. You know why I must refuse."
"To continue your quest, to hunt the bones of a legend?" Jocelyn leaned forward, his face intent. "Why not leave the decision to fate?" he suggested quietly. "You could have an earldom and a quarter of the value of the spore, a residence and a large estate, a wife, even children to bear your name. Is this not a fair exchange for a dream?"
"And you will be safe on Jest," said Adrienne. "The Cyclan will be unable to find you."
Light glittered from the metal as Jocelyn produced a coin. "Let fate decide. If the arms of Jest show uppermost you will accept all I have named and come with us."
"And if you lose, my lord?"
"The cost of ten high passages," said Jocelyn quickly, "yours before you leave this vessel. You agree?"
"Spin, my lord."
Together they watched the coin rise glittering into the air, followed it with their eyes as it fell and looked at the scarred representation of a man's head.
Adrienne caught her breath. "Earl!"
"I am sorry, my lady," said Dumarest. "It seems that fate has decided we must part."
"To wander, to drift from world to world, perhaps even to die. And you could be so comfortable and happy on Jest. Jocelyn, tell him he must not go!"
"No, I cannot do that," said Jocelyn. "The decision is made, but always he will be welcome on Jest." He looked at Dumarest. "Remember that."
He would remember; perhaps he would have reason to regret the lost chance. But he didn't think so. A man has to follow his destiny.