"You are not drinking."
"No." Carina, unlike Kusche, had not leaned on the comfort of alcohol. "I had thought you would greet us."
"I was otherwise engaged." Lost in a mental paradise which had lasted longer than he had anticipated, as the transfer had happened sooner than predicted. "Dumarest is in the cabin prepared for him?"
"Not as yet."
"But still sealed in his sac?"
"I explained that." Dumarest turned to stare up at the cyber. "Nothing can be gained by moving him while he is still under the influence of drugs. He was in a highly emotional state when faced with the inevitable."
"So you drugged him?"
"I had no choice." Dumarest coughed and tasted blood. Wiping his lips he displayed the carmine smear. "He attacked me, broke a rib; given time he would have broken my neck."
Lim nodded; he had already received the report from Cattaneo. Of how the woman was down, the upturned table beside her, Dumarest sprawled to one side. And of the man lying dead.
Had Kusche allied himself with Dumarest at the end? A possibility which he considered and one backed by the bruise on the woman's face, her obvious internal injuries, Kusche's death. Details now of small importance.
Dumarest said, "When do we leave?"
"You are in a hurry?"
"To gain my reward, yes. I didn't do all this for fun."
"You will receive all you have earned," said Lim evenly. "The Cyclan always keeps its word." The truth-but there was more than one way to keep a bargain. "Hulse!" As the acolyte entered the salon Lim gestured at Dumarest. "Search her."
An examination which he accepted without argument. The touch of the acolyte was deft but thorough.,The cyber looked at the small laser Hulse placed on the table close to the wine.
"You had another."
"Ruined. I left it where it lay." Dumarest added, "There was no need of the search. I would have handed it over had you asked."
"Of course. Where did you keep the drug?"
"The one I gave Dumarest? Here, beneath the edge of my tunic." Dumarest gestured with his hand. "I always carry it as a precaution. Some men refuse to take no for an answer."
A logical explanation and Lim seemed to be satisfied. Dumarest coughed again and swallowed a warm, salty wetness. One rib broken, maybe two, and a jagged fragment must have lacerated a lung. Movement would accelerate the slow bleeding but his nerves screamed for action. How long would the cyber take to make up his mind?
"You seem unwell," said Lim. "It would be wise to retire to your cabin. I shall send you medical assistance."
An order it would be stupid to disobey. But which was his cabin?
Dumarest rose and fought a sudden giddiness. Reaching for the wine he said, "You are gracious, but first a toast. I think the moment calls for it." The wine gurgled as he poured and he remembered how Carina had acted when they had shared a meal in the Durand on distant Shard. Lifting the glass he faced the cyber with a smile. "To success, my friend. To the fulfillment of ambition!"
He drank with Lim watching, the cyber making no comment. Setting down the glass, Dumarest walked across the salon to halt at the door. Swaying, he rested one hand on the edge, lifting the other to his bruised face.
"It hurts," he muttered. "And I feel about to faint. Help me, cyber. Help me!"
For a moment he clung to the support, then slowly let his knees buckle to hit the floor, his body following to lie in a helpless sprawl, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. A woman who had fainted and who would need to be carried to her cabin.
Dumarest heard the soft rustle of the cyber's robe, felt the muffled vibration of his footsteps as he came close. The fingers which touched his face were like thin, dry twigs, deft as they lifted an eyelid to expose the rolled-up ball. Fingers moved to probe at the bruise and sent darts of pain lancing through cheek and temple. Dumarest groaned and moved, to lie still again as the delicate touch moved to his throat and the tiny puncture left by the hollow needle of the ampule.
And screamed as a band smashed down to drive the jagged end of broken bones into his lungs.
Chapter Fifteen
It was a red flood which filled the universe and left him gasping and weak in its savage ferocity. Dumarest had known pain before but this had come with total unexpectedness- and this body was not his own.
He reared, seeing the skull-like visage of the cyber inches above his own. The face turned carmine as Dumarest stained it with the blood he spat from his mouth. As Lim retreated Dumarest struck at the throat, missed, and followed the blow with another with the same result. Fury vented on thin air and effort which tore at his lungs and filled the universe with a fresh tide of pain.
Dumarest rolled to hands and knees, coughed a scarlet flood and fought a mountain of pain to climb to his feet. Staggering, he reached the support of the edge of the door.
From where he stood, well out of reach, Lim said, "Do not attempt anything foolish. I will not hesitate to cripple you should you try."
A machine with a laser in his hand and blood on his face. Carmine which matched the scarlet of his robe and soiled the glitter of the sigil on his breast. One who could feel no anger, know no fear.
Dumarest said, "Why?"
"You made mistakes. Small things which accumulated, but the biggest of all was to take me for a fool. Did you really think I was so inefficient as not to recognize the charade?"
"I don't understand." If the cyber knew the truth there was no point in verifying it. If he was guessing then to be honest was to be stupid. "You hit me." Dumarest lifted a hand to his chest, face registering agony which was real. "I fainted, I think, then you hit me. My reward, cyber? Is that how the Cyclan pays its debts?"
"Sit." Lim gestured to the table, the chair. "Take wine. It contains a stimulant."
One he needed and Dumarest poured a glass full as the cyber left to wash the blood from his face and change into a clean robe. To be dirty was to be inefficient and he saw no immediate urgency demanding his presence. Hulse took his place, the acolyte standing well to one side. Dumarest studied him as he swallowed the wine.
A man a little too cautious and so too highly strung. One who must lose his concentration after a while as the body, keyed for immediate action, rebelled against the strain. Then would be the moment to act if action was possible but Dumarest knew that it was not.
He drank more wine, indifferent as to what it might contain, needing the chemical strength it could give. The stimulant sharpened his senses but did nothing to dull his pain. A calculated effect, he guessed, Lim would not want him to be comfortable.
Dumarest coughed and dabbing at his lips, looked at the bright scarlet on his hand. Blood which he had spat into Lim's face to blind him. An attack which had failed and he knew again the hurt of inadequacy. He had misjudged, mistimed. His arms had been too short, his reactions too slow. The body he wore was alien in more ways than one. He almost felt hampered by leaden weights. Was this how it felt to be a woman?
Dumarest reached for more wine as Lim returned and tensed, the decanter in his hand. Hulse came to remove it at the cyber's signal, moving in close enough for his skull to be smashed, but Dumarest doubted his ability to hit hard and clean. In any case to kill the acolyte would serve no purpose. He released the decanter and watched as it was removed together with the glass. Lim moved so as to face him.
"Did the wine help?"
"A little. I must apologize for what happened. Blood was choking me and pain made me strike out."
"Errors to add to the rest."
Dumarest said, "You talk in riddles. I'm hurt and could be dying. Have someone help me to my cabin and send for medical aid."
"You will not die." Lim was confident. "Not for a long time. And you will have everything you need for your comfort if you will just do one small thing." He stepped forward and placed a sheet of paper together with a stylo on the table. "Just write down the correct sequence of the units forming the affinity twin."