Angado

bloodstream. A possibility but one he discounted; the death of Angado must not be too obvious.

'Get home,' he said. 'Get to bed. Call medical aid. The hotel should have a resident doctor. Can you manage on your own?'

'If I have to. Why can't you come with me?'

'I've an appointment to keep,' said Dumarest. 'With Perotto.'

* * *

He sat in a room which echoed his dignity; a chamber rich in leather, wood, intricate carving and expensive fabrics. The chair behind the wide desk was like a throne and he occupied it as if he were a king. One who lifted a hand in regal greeting as Dumarest stepped toward him.

'Earl, be seated.' Light blazed from the gemmed ring he wore as he gestured toward a chair. 'My apologies for having kept you waiting but some affairs cannot wait. The penalty of duty, you understand. To be the head of the House of Karroum demands the sacrifice of all personal inclinations.'

'A sacrifice you are willing to make,' said Dumarest, adding, as he saw the other frown, 'as Angado was not.'

'He was too young. He is still too young and I am not talking of chronological years. His mind is unable to accept the concept of total dedication. The need to sublimate all private needs and desires for the sake of the greater good. Words.' Perotto gestured, the light again blazing from his ring, one Dumarest studied as the hand was lowered. 'How little they mean. Dedication, devotion, duty-labels, some would say, for outmoded concepts, yet without them what of the House of Karroum?'

'Ruin,' said Dumarest. 'Devastation.'

'For the House and all connected with it. Entire families made destitute because of a youthful whim or brash inexperience. I do not intend that to happen.'

'There are ways to prevent it.'

'Many ways,' agreed Perotto. 'What is Angado to you?'

'A friend.'

'And?'

Dumarest said flatly, 'I'm broke. Stranded here on Lychen and totally dependent on Angado's charity. If he should turn against me or fall sick or die I'd be sleeping in the fields and living on dirt. That's why I acted as I did out there; my concern was to keep him alive. Once I get a stake he can sweat in his own juice. I wasn't born to be a servant.'

'The price of friendship,' murmured Perotto. 'The price of two High passages? Three?'

'To do what?'

'To persuade Angado to leave this world and never to return. I've made him an offer-you can see that he accepts it.'

'Three High passages.' Dumarest looked at the room, the rich furnishings, the items of price. 'A low price for what you have here. Five would still be low but a little more attractive. Paid in advance?'

'In your hand when you board. Of course there could be more if your powers of persuasion are too strong to resist. Fifty times as much if you can convince me Angado will never return to Lychen.'

'Fifty?' Dumarest pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. 'My Lord, you are generous.'

'But hard to convince.'

'You shall have positive proof. My word on it.' Dumarest rose from his chair. 'Now I must see how my friend is faring. A sick man needs a break from routine and there are other worlds aside from those in the Burdinnion. Interesting worlds, some a little dangerous, perhaps, but what is life without risk?'

Perotto said, 'How will you travel?'

'To the waterfall? Wynne will take me.'

'She has already taken Angado. I'll arrange for a raft.' Perotto reached for an intercom then withdrew his hand as he changed his mind. 'No. I'll take you myself. Work has made me stuffy and it'll be a chance to clear my head.'

Outside dawn had broken, the day brightening as the raft moved east. Perotto sat beside Dumarest, the driver a hunched and silent figure at the controls. The air was clear, deserted aside from minute flecks wheeling over the top of the waterfall: birds scavenging the hotel complex, many settling to perch on the rails of the observation platform. Close to the entrance to Angado's home Wynne's raft lay empty on the grass.

She met them as the elevator sighed to a halt, turning to lead the way into the main salon. The door to the balcony was open, cool air wafting into the chamber together with the deep organ-note from the chasm, until it died to a muted drone as she closed the portal.

'Angado sat out there for a while,' she explained. 'I tried to get him to eat but he wasn't hungry so I made him take a shower and go to bed. The last time I looked in on him he seemed to be asleep.'

'How is he?' Perotto sounded genuinely concerned.

'As well as can be expected.'

'I've been thinking of what must have happened. Some fools at the party must have slipped drugs into his wine. A combination which caused a syndromic shock. Maybe it was triggered by the confections he ate. A special blend of exotic flavors that I thought would amuse him.' Perotto shook his head in self-reproach. 'I should have remembered his delicate stomach. Even as a child he had to be careful of what he ate. I blame myself for what happened.'

'It wasn't your fault.' Wynne glanced at Dumarest. 'Do you want to see him?'

'Not if he's sleeping.'

'He might be awake. I'll check.' She left the room to return, shaking her head. 'Still asleep and I guess it's best to leave him that way. One thing, Earl, I managed to find the key to that desk. You know? The one in the den. It's open now if you want to check what's inside.'

Perotto frowned. 'Desk?'

'Earl wanted to examine some old maps. The kind of thing Chenault is so fond of.' Smiling she added, looking at Dumarest, 'I never did get to take you to him-well, we didn't have the time. Tomorrow, perhaps. If you find anything interesting he'll be able to explain it to you.'

'The den,' said Dumarest. 'You know, I've forgotten where it is.'

'Just down the hall and-' Wynne broke off, shaking her head. 'How could you have forgotten so soon?'

'Maybe I've had other things on my mind.' His eyes held hers, their message plain. 'Come with me. You can show me that trick with the lights you mentioned. Perhaps I could learn something.'

'I doubt it.' Her smile was inviting. 'Come on, then I won't be long, Luigi, when I come back I'll make some tisane. You like tisane, Earl?'

'I'd like anything you make.'

He followed her from the salon, a man eager to get her alone, to recapture the experience of the night, its joy and pleasure. Coming close to her as she paused before a door ending a passage, his left hand rising to rest against her back, his head lowering to touch her cheek with his lips.

As she relaxed he jerked open the door with his right hand, pushed with his left, slamming the door after her as she staggered through the opening. A second and he heard the thud of her falling body.

'Wynne?' Perotto called out as Dumarest neared the salon. 'Wynne, is everything all right?'

He was standing beside the wide window facing the waterfall. He was not alone.

Chapter Fourteen

As a man Avro had never known physical pleasure. The operation performed on him when young had seen to that; one deft stroke of the scalpel had turned him into a living, thinking, unfeeling machine. But now he rode the crest of a giddy intoxication born of mental achievement.

Dumarest caught, trapped, safe in his hand.

The man the Cyclan had hunted for so long and who had escaped so often, leaving dead cybers to mark his success, now the living proof of his own efficiency. The key to his own survival; soon now he would be safe in his vat joined in a gestalt of his own kind.