Web of Sand

you get me lasers?'

'I'll do my best.' Dumarest met the man's eyes. It would be useless to promise more and yet, so far, he'd promised him nothing. 'Will you help us?'

'Let's talk about the lasers. How many can you get?'

'It depends on the price. And it depends on what's in it for me. Let me think about it. I'll do what I can, that I promise, but don't press too hard. When can you guide us?'

'Tomorrow,' said Lowbar after a moment. 'After you've rested. I'll have someone guide you tomorrow.'

The storm was over and for two days now rafts had scoured the desert and the Goulten Hills. A vain search, as yet there had been no trace of what he desperately needed to find and, lacking concrete evidence, Tosya was driven back on the cold logic of the situation. One emphasized by Yunus Ambalo as he stood with the cyber in the apartment loaned to him by the Cinque.

'There is no hope,' he repeated. 'No one could possibly have lived through that storm.'

'The Goulten Hills?'

'Rafts searched before the storm broke and again after it subsided and each time with the same result. Nothing. If a party had sheltered within the range they must have left it when the storm ended.'

'Must?'

'No water,' said Yunus tiredly. 'No food.'

'A man in good condition can live without food for a month and still maintain his efficiency,' reminded the cyber. 'And Dumarest is accustomed to traveling Low.'

'Maybe, but a man needs his strength on the desert. And what about water?'

'The party carried water.'

'The search team discovered the ruin of their tent together with the survival radio and supplies.' The cost of the search using highly expensive electronic equipment to track down the permanently active components was something yet to be argued about. 'That was prior to the storm breaking. Nothing living was spotted on the desert. The assumption must be the party, if still alive, was within the range. They were not discovered. Therefore they must either have been destroyed by the sannaks or lost in some tunnel. The storm would have trapped them and, if the tunnel had collapsed-' Yunus broke off, shrugging. To him the matter was crystal clear and he couldn't see why Tosya was so insistent. 'Nothing could have survived the storm,' he said again. 'You have seen the attrition of suits exposed to the wind. They could never have made it from the hills to the city. They could never have lasted with the little water they must have had. They must all be dead.'

The end!

Tosya closed his eyes and thought of it and came as close as he could ever come to the feeling of despair. To have failed and to be faced with the need for paying the penalty of failure.

And yet where had he gone wrong?

Dumarest had been alive and in the city that he knew for certain. Had he remained in the city he would have been safely held. Even now there was no hard evidence that he had left the confines of Harge but Tosya knew better. The party which had not followed the usual procedure must have had him as one of its number even though the license had been in the name of a resident All others had been accounted for. Of those who had been dumped by Frome from the Urusha two were at hand, one was dead, the others including Dumarest had, apparently, vanished.

Where else but on the desert?

'Cyber Tosya.' Yunus made an effort to control his impatience. 'The ship which landed this morning will leave before dark. If you intend to travel on it I would advise no further delay.'

There was time, not much, but still enough for him to again review the facts of recent events. Dumarest, so close and now so far. Dead, lost beneath the sand, every grain of his body separated and mixed with older, more arid dust. The valuable information contained in his mind lost for what could be millennia.

And he had allowed it to happen.

And yet, could he wholly be at fault? Dumarest must have left the city before he had even landed-would the central intelligence take that into consideration? The one at fault must surely be Frome who had failed to carry out his orders or, more probable, the one to whom he had passed them had been lax.

Was it worth staying?

Again Tosya equated the probabilities and came up with the same bleak answer. If Dumarest had been caught by the storm he would now be dead-the probability was as high as any he had made. He had not entered the city while the storm had been in progress, the guards at the gate were positive as to that. Nothing unusual had been reported and every known fact led to the same conclusion. Dumarest was dead.

Yunus said, 'The ship, Tosya. If you intend leaving you must go now.'

To report. To serve the rest of his life in minor capacities, never again to be trusted with matters of great importance, never, even, to gain the coveted reward. Yet if he had failed there was no need to compound his failure.

Yunus blinked as the puff of gas assailed his nostrils. A moment then the incident was forgotten-but he was now a man as good as dead. Within a few hours the parasite carried in the vapor would have rooted itself in his brain, there to grow, to distort his cerebral process, to kill as surely as a bullet.

And any curiosity he may have felt about the Cyclan's interest in Dumarest would have died with him.

Chapter Thirteen

The guide was a young man, furtive, taciturn. Santis frowned as, for the third time, he failed to answer. To Dumarest he said, 'Why didn't Lowbar let us have the girl? And why keep us waiting so long? I don't like it, Earl. And I don't trust the man he gave us.'

Neither did Dumarest. Twice now he had spotted a familiar patch of fungus, the second time he had marked it and now, seeing it again, decided that deceptive tactics had gone too far.

Calling a halt, he said, 'All right, that's enough. We'll make our own way.'

'You can't!' The guide came back to rejoin them. 'You won't be able to find the way.'

'And we won't be walking in circles.' Dumarest looked at the man, his face hard. 'Do you think we're fools not to know what you're doing? Who put you up to it? Lowbar? Doesn't he trust us?'

'You lied. You said you'd lived through a storm. No one can do that.'

'So you think we must be spies.' The logic made sense. 'So you're leading us around to what? A trap? Isn't it ready yet? Or do you just want to confuse us?' Dumarest frowned as he gained no answer. Reaching out he gripped the man by the hair, the knife flashing as he lifted it to rest the needle point against the taut windpipe. 'Now listen. You guide us correctly or I'll see to it you never guide anyone again. And if your friends are waiting lead us away from them because if you don't-' The pressure of the blade completed the sentence. 'Now let's get moving!'

Shivering, the guide obeyed, leading them up a narrow ramp, through a fissure, along a ledge circling a vent from which foul odors gusted, into a labyrinth of passages, each looking like the other. A maze which confused all sense of direction. Dumarest tightened his grip.

'No tricks, now,' he warned. 'If anything happens you'll be the first to go.'

'Nothing will-we've passed them, all you need to do is to keep going straight to the junction then-' He gasped as sound echoed from ahead. 'The guards! Let me gol The guards!'

'No,' said Kemmer. 'Not guards! They've no uniforms. They must be workers.'

They came from a narrow passage as the guide, with a desperate jerk, ripped himself free and raced into the maskings shadows. All were wearing thick coveralls and were armed with long clubs and carrying lanterns. Their leader halted as he saw the three men, club poised, lantern raised to bathe them in its light.

'Who the hell are you?'

'Three fools who got themselves lost.' Dumarest threw aside the swath of hair and lifted empty hands, smiling, obviously pleased at the encounter. 'We had a guide but he ran off when he heard you.'

'A guide?'

'A young man who offered to lead us. We seem to have been walking for hours and getting nowhere. I guess he didn't know the way as well as he claimed.'

'And he ran off? Which way?' The leader had a hard, craggy face. It grew ugly as he listened. 'Harry! Sheel!