'Killing that bitch would be easy. You too if I caught you together. You think I couldn't?'
She would try, of that he was certain; then as he watched, her face changed, anger vanishing, replaced by a soft yearning.
'You don't want her, do you, Earl? Tell me you don't want her.'
'I don't want her,' he said then added, as his arms closed around her, 'You're woman enough for me.'
'For always, Earl?'
'For always.'
That was the answer she wanted to hear and she pressed close against him, yielding to the demands of her body, the need. One matched by his own and the jealousy she had felt vanished in the practice of an ancient rite. But later, when she lay asleep at his side, face lax in satiation, Dumarest looked again at the ceiling.
Seeing the face of Ava Vasudiva, her mouth, her eyes, the proud tilt of her head. The face became a blur dominated by the pattern on her forehead. A circle quartered by a cross- the symbol of Earth.
Chapter Nine
Ulls Farnham was small, dark, a man with restless eyes. He sat facing Urich, a chessboard between them, his hand hovering over a piece. Before touching it he said, 'A wager, my friend. Fifty hours of labor given by the loser to the one who wins.'
A gamble and not the first he had made. This one dealt with a new currency and betrayed a shrewd anticipation of what might lie ahead. A man, commanding the labor of others, would have a head start in founding a fortune.
'Well?' Farnham was impatient. 'Is it a deal?'
Urich Sheiner said nothing, studying the board. The position of his opponent was strong but not as strong as the man obviously thought. The fruit of his own careless attitude toward the game which he played more to kill time than for the joy of stylized warfare.
'Fifty hours?'
'More if you like.'
Urich watched the hovering hand and said, easily, 'Make it a hundred. And if I lose I'll teach you how to make knives.'
'From metal?'
'From stone.' Urich saw the tension of the knuckles and smiled. 'From flint-there is a certain knack in forming an edge but, once done, you have something sharper than steel.'
He added, casually, 'And far cheaper. Your move, I think.'
He would win in a dozen but before half had been played he felt the sudden giddiness of altering metabolism and watched the movement of Farnham's hand freeze into sudden immobility.
Rising he looked at Dumarest, at the hypogun in his hand which had blasted neutralizing drugs through skin and fat into his bloodstream. Around them, in the salon, others of the Ypsheim sat or stood like statues.
Urich said, 'More trouble? The engine-'
'No.' Dumarest was brusque. 'There are things I need to know.'
'And so you came to me.' Urich stretched, enjoying the moment, conscious of his position. 'What took you so long?' Then, as Dumarest made no answer, he said, 'Do you want to talk here or somewhere else?'
'My cabin,' said Dumarest. 'We'll talk in my cabin.'
The cabin held the lingering trace of femininity, of perfume, of cosmetics, of the indefinable presence of a woman. Ysanne, now absent, was probably busy at her duties or conducting her own examination of the vessel. Urich sat as Dumarest poured them both wine. A gesture of hospitality which he did not mistake for friendship, but it set the mood and he had no reason to reject it.
'Your health!' Urich sipped the wine as he studied Dumarest over the rim of the glass. The face was harder, the lines more pronounced, the eyes more somber than he remembered. A long, hard journey attended by constant strain-the marks were unmistakable. 'There is a story heard once,' he said. 'About a man who caught a tiger by the tail.'
'So?'
'It seems appropriate.' Urich took another sip of his wine. 'Your crew is small; yourself, a woman, one old man, an engineer newly joined. You are carrying one hundred and seventeen of the Ypsheim-I do not include myself.'
'Make your point.'
'I should have thought it obvious. Should there be trouble you would stand little chance.'
'There will be no trouble.'
'Not while you are in space,' agreed Urich. 'But after you land? What then?'
'Nothing. Our contract will have been completed. They leave the ship and we move on.'
'If you are able.' Urich paused then said, abruptly, 'I will be frank. I want to leave with you, together with Eunice, naturally. The two of us taken to another world. In return I will offer you my full support in any action you may choose to take. It is a matter of survival, you understand. Alone with the Ypsheim my life would be measured in days. Agree and-' He sighed his relief as Dumarest nodded. 'Then be warned. The man I was playing chess with is building a store of promised labor. He was also most interested when I offered to show him how to make knives from flint. He is not unique. Others have been discussing the future and making plans. Some have realized the advantage of holding the ship. Echoes,' he explained. 'Whispers-these unaccustomed to space have no idea how sound can travel in a vessel. As I said, Earl-you are holding a tiger by the tail.'
'The Ypsheim? Didn't you once call them cattle? Gutless cowards?'
'On Krantz they were all of that, but now they're free of the Quelen.'
'And plotting rebellion?'
'You're thinking of habit,' said Urich. 'Of the centuries of obedience which must have instilled a reluctance to act against authority. Relying on it, perhaps, to give you time to get away. Normally you would be justified, but there is something you have yet to learn.' He paused to empty his glass then said, quietly, 'Did you tell any of them where we are headed?'
'No.' Dumarest added dryly, 'As you remember we had little time for discussion.'
'And you had your own plans. Your own need to escape.' Urich set down the glass. 'Why do you think I agreed to repair your engine?'
'Tell me.'
'You said you were bound for Earth. For Earth!' Urich smiled but the grimace held no humor and turned into a snarl. 'Justice,' he said. 'Or revenge-the taste is as sweet. They'd robbed me of all I'd striven for on Krantz. In return I helped you take them to the last place any of them want to reach!'
Ysanne had left a beaded garment on the floor; a thing of leather slashed and ornamented, touched with daubs of brilliance, laced with writhing strands. A tunic which rose beneath the impact of Dumarest's boot to land against a far bulkhead. An unconscious venting of anger; he hadn't noticed the garment until it had interrupted his stride. Now he turned and paced back to where Urich sat.
A clever man as he had proved. A ruthless one also if he had told the truth about his early life. Certainly an ambitious one even if that ambition had made him vulnerable. But what else?
He was of the Ypsheim yet apart from them and they would regard him as a traitor to his own kind. An outcast, and Dumarest knew too well what that could mean.
He said, 'Tell me of Earth.'
'A world of promise. A paradise. The planet which can provide all things.' If the abrupt question had startled him Urich hid it well. 'Or so they will tell you in the taverns. Buy more wine and they will go into greater detail.' His tone was ironic. 'Of course there are other versions.'
'The one held by the Ypsheim?' Dumarest snarled as the other remained silent. 'I need answers, man!'
'Answers imply questions. What is it you want to know?'
'The scars.' Dumarest gestured toward his forehead. 'The ones carried by the Ypsheim. A caste mark?'
'A symbol of unity. All the young are marked shortly after birth. It constitutes a bond of recognition.' Urich hesitated then added, 'And of remembrance.'
'Remembrance?' Dumarest frowned, thinking of the paint filling the quarters of the cruciform scar to form a
