“Lew, if he’s touched her—”
“Easy. Derik doesn’t know, he never will know what he’s doing, you know. Listen; I need your help. I’m going straight into Derik’s mind and try to lift the matrix trap.” For the first time in my life I was grateful for the Alton Gift, which could force rapport — and which could go into a matrix without the half-dozen monitors and dampers an ordinary matrix mech would need. “Those things are plain hell, Regis. Now, when I get it lifted, you try to break it up. But don’t you touch me — or Derik — or you’ll kill all three of us.”
It was a desperate chance. No sane person will go into a mind controlled by a trap-matrix; it is walking into a blind alley which may be filled with monsters ready to spring. And I would have to drop all my barriers, and trust the untried strength of a newly-Zaran Hastur who could kill me with a random touch.
Every instinct screamed no; but I reached out and focused on Derik.
And knew, at once, I had touched that thing before; when I tried to probe Lerrys.
Derik, like a man who feels the sting of a knife through an incomplete anesthetic, twisted to escape; but this time I held fast, grimly- forcing- my focused strength as a wedge between mind and the trick matrix that held it in submission.
Behind me, as a man may look at mirrored light he dares not face, I sensed Regis; he had seized on that alien force, and he was tearing it to bits; destroying each strand of force as I lifted that telepathic web, thread by thread, out of the nerves of Derik’s brain.
But now it was being forced on me, too. As a man at a screen may watch two starships battle, so the holder of this unholy matrix was watching the three-way duel, perhaps ready with a new weapon. Necessity and the need for haste made me careless how I tortured Derik; but I knew, too, if Derik were himself, he would thank me for this.
As I forced down barrier after barrier, something fought me, a grotesque parody of the real Derik; but I won. I felt it flicker, vanish like a trace of smoke, burnt away. The compulsion was gone, the trap-matrix destroyed — and Derik, at least, was clean.
I withdrew;
Regis leaned against a pillar, his face dead white. I asked, “Could you tell who was controlling it?”
“Not a trace. When the matrix shattered, I felt Callina, but then—” Regis frowned, “she blanked again, and all I felt was Ashara! Why Ashara?”
I didn’t know. But if Ashara were aroused and aware, at least she would protect Callina.
We had given ourselves away, Regis and I; we had lost vital strength; but for the moment, perhaps, we were safe. My main worry now was for Regis. I was mature, trained in the use of these powers, and I knew the limits of my own endurance. He didn’t. Unless he learned caution, the next step would be nerve depletion and collapse.
I tried to warn him, but he shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about me. Who’s that with Linnell?”
I turned to see if he meant Kathie or the man in harlequin costume who had so disturbed me. Beside them was another masked figure, a man in a cowled robe which hid his face and body completely. But something about him reminded me, suddenly and horribly, of the hell in Derik’s mind. Another victim — or the controller? I had to fight myself to keep from running across the room and pitching him bodily away from Linnell.
I went toward them, slowly. Linnell asked, “Lew, where have you been?”
“Outside, watching the eclipse,” I said briefly.
Linnell glanced up at me, timidly, troubled.
“What is it, chiya?” The childish pet name still came easily.
“Lew, who is Kathie, really? When I’m near her, I feel terribly strange. It’s not just because she looks so like me, it’s as if she were me. And then I feel — I don’t know — as if I had to come close to her, touch her, embrace her. It’s a kind of pain! I can’t keep away from her! But if I do touch her, I want to pull away and scream—” Linnell was twisting her hands nervously, ready to burst into hysterical tears or laughter. I didn’t know what to say. Linnell wasn’t a girl to fret over trifles; if it affected her like this, it was no minor whim.
Kathie had been dancing with Rafe Scott. As she came back, she smiled at Linnell; and almost without discernible volition, Linnell began to move in her direction. Was Kathie working some malicious mental trick on my little cousin? But no. Kathie had no awareness of Darkovan powers. I knew that. And nothing could get through that block I’d put on her.
Linnell touched Kathie’s hand, almost shyly; in immediate response, Kathie put an arm around Linnell’s waist, and they walked for a minute like that, enlaced. Then, with a sudden lithe movement Linnell drew herself, free and came and caught at me.
“There’s Callina,” I said.
The Keeper, aloof in her starry draperies, threaded her way through the maze of dancers. “Where have you been, Callina?Linnell demanded. She looked at her sister’s strange costume “with sorrowful puzzlement, but she did not comment; and Callina made no attempt to justify or explain herself.
“Yes,” I demanded, with an intent look at Callina, shading the words telepathically, “where have you been?”
She seemed unaware of either overtone, and her careless words were devoid of any hidden message that I could read. “Talking with Derik. He drew me apart to hear some long confused drunken tale of his, but he never did get it told. I don’t envy you, darling,” she added, smiling at her sister. “Fortunately all the wine conquered him at last — may he never be defeated by a worse enemy.” She shrugged daintily. “Hastur is signaling to me. Beltran is there, I suppose it’s time for the ceremony.”
“Callina—” Linnell almost sobbed, but the woman moved away from her outstretched hands. “Don’t pity me, Linne,” she said, “I won’t have it.” And I could tell that what she meant was “I can’t bear it.”
I don’t know what I might have said or done, but she drew herself away; her eyes brooded, blue ice like Ashara’s, past me into silence. Bitterly helpless, I watched her shrouded form move through the bright crowd.
I should have guessed everything then, when she left us without a touch, silent and remote as Ashara’s self, making a lonely island of her tragedy and cutting us all away from her. I listened, numbed, as Hastur made the formal announcement and locked the doubled marriage bracelets upon the arms of the pair. Callina was Beltran’s consort from the moment Hastur released her hand.
I glanced round at Regis and suddenly, appalled, sucked in air; the boy had turned ashen gray. I slid an arm around him and half-carried him to the archway. He drew a sobbing breath as the cold air reached his face, and muttered, “Thanks. Guess you were right.” And abruptly he doubled up and collapsed on the floor. His lax hand was clammy and his breathing was shallow. I looked around for. help. Dio was crossing the floor, on Lerrys arm—
Lerrys stopped dead in his tracks. He stared around wildly for a moment, his face convulsed; stiffened and clutched at Dio.
That was the first shock-wave. Then hell broke loose. Suddenly the room was a distorted nightmare, warped out of all perspective, and Dio’s scream died in shivering air that would not carry sound. Then she was struggling in the grip of something that shook her like a kitten. She took one faltering step-Then I saw two men standing together, the only calm figures in the distorted air. The harlequin and the horrible cowled man. Only now the cowl was flung back, and. it was Dyan’s cruel thin-lipped face that glared bleakly at Dio. She moved, fighting, another step, another; slid to the floor and lay there without moving.
I fought the paralysis of the warped space that held us in frozen stasis. Then harlequin and cowl turned — and caught Linnell between them.