'Sit.' A withered hand gestured toward a chair. As Clarge took it the High Priest dropped into another. 'You are importunate, cyber.'
'With reason. The need is great.'
'Nothing is greater than the Mother.' Varne waited as if expecting a comment. When none came he added, 'Those who sent you assured me that you intend no harm. Did they lie?'
'They told the truth. I have come to make you an offer. I have cause to know that a man is interested in the Temple. He is not of your following. He would not hesitate to violate your sacred places. He-'
'That is impossible! The Mother would never permit it!'
'Yet-'
'No! The thought is sacrilege!'
To press the point would be to alienate the priest and Clarge recognized the danger. Recognized, too, the brittle situation he was in. Too much time had been wasted at the Hsing-Teide establishment before those in charge had even admitted the existence of the Temple. Then had come the tedious delay before permission had been granted for him to be received at the Temple. Time in which Dumarest could have come and gone-once again escaping the grasp of the Cyclan.
Clarge knew the penalty should he fail.
He said, 'Have none appeared who are not what they claim to be?' He elaborated the question. 'I am thinking of someone who seems unsure of the rituals. Who hesitates or avoids a direct response. He could pretend to be dumb or even blind. Or he could ask too many questions. Have you no check on those visiting the Temple?'
'The secrets of the Temple must remain inviolate.'
'That is understood. But surely a stranger, pretending to be a pilgrim, would have been noticed? Or could be noticed?' Pausing, Clarge added, 'If such a one should be discovered the Cyclan would pay well if he were to be handed into their charge. If you already have such a one I can assure you he will never be able to tell what he may have seen.'
A bribe, a promise, trusted currency in all such negotiations and, despite his position, Varne was little different from any ruler intent on safeguarding his power. A hard, ruthless, ambitious man-none other could ever have achieved his eminence. Clarge was accustomed to the type: all that was needed was to guide him the way he wanted to go.
Varne said, 'What is your interest in this man?'
'The Cyclan needs him.'
'Which tells me nothing.'
'Need more be told?' Clarge let the question hang, unwilling to say more yet knowing that the High Priest would demand it. 'The man I am looking for is in possession of a secret stolen from the laboratories of the Cyclan. It is important that it be regained. Now, my lord, if we can come to some agreement?' He added, before the other could answer, 'It is, of course, imperative that the man be handed over alive and unharmed.'
'You add conditions to your demands?'
'Dead, the man will be useless,' said Clarge. 'Injured, his memory could be impaired. I demand nothing you are not prepared to give, my lord, but think of the advantages gained if you cooperate. The skill of the Cyclan at your disposal, advice and guidance as to investments, predictions as to the most probable outcome of events. Warnings as to hazards which might lie ahead.'
'As you now warn of interlopers?' Varne's tone held irony. 'It seems-' He broke off as a priest entered the chamber, stooping to whisper in his ear. Watching, Clarge saw the thin hand clench as it rested on the ebon robe.
As the man left, Clarge said, 'News, my lord?'
Varne was terse. 'You predict well, cyber. Men have violated the treasury. They were gassed and taken.'
'Dumarest? Is one named Dumarest?'
'Perhaps.' The High Priest rose from his chair. 'Names are unimportant-all must die!'
* * *
Karlene woke, crying out, sitting upright in the bed, seeing on the bulkheads the fading traces of vanished dreams. Nightmares which had turned her drugged rest into a time of horror so that she clutched her knees and felt the thing in her mind coil and move like a writhing serpent, that left a trail of fear and terror.
Strong!
So close and strong!
'Karlene?' Ellen was at the opened door of the cabin. 'Are you all right?'
She entered as the question remained unanswered, one hand reaching to brush aside the cascade of silver hair and rest on the pallid forehead, the other resting fingers on the slender wrist as she checked the pulse. Fast- Karlene's heart was racing and Ellen could feel the perspiration dewing the forehead.
'You were crying out,' she said. 'In your sleep. Did you have a nightmare?'
Karlene nodded.
'A bad one?' She was gently insistent on gaining an answer; talk, in this case, was good therapy. 'Was it a bad one?'
'Yes.'
'I thought so. Your heart is racing but that is to be expected. Temperature is high, too, but it will quickly fall. Why don't you take a shower? It will relax you.'
'Later, perhaps.' Karlene moved away from Ellen's hand. 'Has there been any word?'
'From Earl? No. Not as yet but we didn't expect any, did we? Ahmed has the radio.'
'From him then?'
'A routine report. He made it to the roof and was checking the structure for a suitable place to make an opening.' Ellen was determinedly cheerful. 'There's nothing to worry about. Everything is going to plan.'
A lie, there had been no real plan, just opportunities seized as the chance occurred, but Karlene didn't question the statement. Instead she sat, staring at the bulkhead, eyes misted with introspection.
'I saw it,' she said. 'In my dream. Something terrible and bright. So very bright. It grew and grew and I tried to run from it but it grew too fast and I didn't seem able to move.'
'A common dream.' Perfume stood on a table beside the bed. Ellen reached for it, dabbed it on Karlene's temples, the hollow of her throat. 'There's a psychological explanation for it but I won't bore you with it now. Just take my word for it that everyone has dreams like that. Just as they do about falling. You've had a dream about falling, haven't you? Of course you have. You wake up with a jerk, your heart pounding and all in a sweat as you did just now. But the dream doesn't mean anything. Dreams never do.'
Her voice deepened a little as she applied more perfume.
'Why not relax now? You must still be tired. Just lie back and look at the ceiling. You don't have to close your eyes but there's no reason why you should keep them open. Yet the lids are so heavy. So very heavy. It would be much more comfortable to close them and sink into the soft, warm darkness. So very nice just to drift and think of pleasant things. To drift… to sleep… to sleep… to sleep…'
Hypnotic suggestion, a useful tool and one easy to use on a preconditioned subject. Ellen looked back at Karlene as she reached the cabin door hoping that the next time she woke she wouldn't fill the ship with the echo of her screams. It had been a mistake to bring her. She hadn't wanted to come. The Temple held too many unpleasant memories, but Ishikari had insisted and what he wanted he got.
Ishikari looked up from the table as she entered the salon, watching as she poured herself a drink, saying nothing until she had gulped it down.
'Is she settled?'
'Yes.'
'Another dream?' He frowned at her nod. 'I shouldn't have brought her with us but I didn't know she would react as she has. And we needed all the help we could get.'
'We had all she could give.'
'True, but I didn't know that. I thought she could act the part of a pilgrim, go into the Temple with the others, give them help and guidance.'
'I would never have permitted that.'
