Do as he had predicted, but the achievement was minor, the mental pleasure small.
Dumarest said, "Wait. There is another way."
"The valley-"
"Will not be harmed. That I promise." The metal tube parted in his hands, revealed two small syringes, one tipped with red, the other green. "Red," he said, showing it to Hsi. "The submissive half of the affinity twin."
"So?"
"You wanted it-here it is!"
Dumarest moved with a sudden release of energy, crossing the distance between them before the other realized what he intended, the cyber's hand lifting, touching the syringe now buried in his neck.
"No! You-"
"Have solved the problem," said Dumarest harshly. "Think about it, cyber-if you can!"
If the man could still think at all. His intelligence was trapped by the biological unit now nestling at the base of his cortex, totally divorced from the control of his body, the machinery of his mind. Aware, perhaps, as if in a dream. Lost in a timeless limbo.
"He isn't dead," said Dumarest as the others moved towards him. "Think of him as a cup waiting to be filled." He moved again, this time towards Odo, the green syringe plunging into the idiot's flesh. A moment and it was done.
"Odo!" Vestaler looked at him, the limp body supported by Dumarest's arms. "I don't understand," he said blankly. "What has happened?"
"Odo is asleep," said Dumarest. "You must take good care of him. He can be fed, washed and kept warm, but he can do nothing for himself." He lowered the heavy body to the ground.
"And the cyber?"
Hsi looked at his hands. He turned them, peering, mouth open, slack in the skull-like contours of his face. His eyes were empty, vacuous, the blank windows of a deserted house. From his lips came a thin drone.
"Odo wants… give Odo… Odo good…"
The intelligence of the idiot now dominant in the body of the cyber. The transfer of ego which was the magic of the affinity twin. Dumarest handed him a scrap of dried fruit.
"What happened?" Usdon was baffled. "I saw-what happened?"
"They changed," said Vestaler. "The cyber became Odo. Is Odo. Earl!"
Dumarest caught the note of fear, recognized its cause.
"You have nothing to worry about," he said. "Hsi's body is alive and well. No signal will be sent and no retribution turned against you. I'll take him with me when I leave in his raft. The body of the acolyte will be dumped in the wilderness."
Dumped, but his robe retained. Wearing it Dumarest would accompany the apparent cyber to the city, take passage on a vessel, leave the pathetic creature on some far world. He would be found, taken care of-the Cyclan looked after its own.
But before that happened Dumarest would have vanished, moved on, losing himself in the infinity of space.
Vestaler said, dully, "And the Eye? The Eye of the Past? I suppose all you said about that was just a lie in order to escape."
"No," said Dumarest. "It wasn't wholly a lie."
* * * * *
He had left the idol in his room, going to fetch it, returning with it in his hand to the Alphanian Chamber where the others waited. For a long moment Dumarest looked at the designs, the scraps of various materials in the cases, the books. Then he faced the others where they stood before the altar, the idol in his hand.
"Leon carried this," he explained. "A hobby, perhaps, but I never saw him work on it. The material is the same as was used by the woman potter for whom he worked in the city. A convenient substance to cover something he might have wanted to hide. Something he could have stolen."
"The Eye?" Vestaler's hand trembled as he touched the crude depiction. "In there?"
For answer Dumarest lifted it, smashed it hard against the stone floor. It shattered, lumps splitting apart, fragments flying, a heap of granules dull in the yellow light. Among them, something gleamed.
"The Eye!" Vestaler's voice was a shout of joy. "The Eye of the Past!"
It was small, round, a lens of crystal filled with a blur of formless designs, flecks of color blended in wild profusion. Vestaler snatched it up, wiped it clean, tears of thankfulness running over his withered cheeks.
The Eye returned! Once again in its rightful place! The impossible achieved! His mind swam with a giddy relief.
"What is it?" said Dumarest. "What is it for?"
The man had a right to know-without him the ache would still exist, the hurt remain. Fate must have directed him, the ancient ones striving in their immutable fashion, How else to explain it?
Usdon said, quietly, "Phal, he has earned the right."
The initiation, the safety of the valley-yes, he had earned the right. More than earned it, yet tradition must be maintained.
Vestaler said, formally. "Usdon, do you propose that Earl Dumarest be shown the inner mysteries?"
"Master, I do."
"And you, Earl Dumarest, soon to leave us, do you swear that never, ever, will you betray to others what you are about to see?"
"I swear."
"You are with us, if not of us. We of the Original People accept you. Now come with me, watch and be humble."
Vestaler turned and approached the enigmatic machine set in the floor beneath the dome. He stooped over it as Usdon moved softly about the chamber, extinguishing the lanterns. When only one remained at the far end of the chamber, he came to stand beside Dumarest.
"Now," said Vestaler. "Witness the glories now lost to us. The past we must remember."
He touched something and, suddenly, light and color filled the dome.
A pattern.
A scene.
A part of ancient Earth.
Dumarest knew it, felt it, sensed that it could be nothing else. It was all around him, streaming from the machine, light directed through the Eye, the lens which held holographic images.
A park, neatly cropped grass, trees, birds which hung like jeweled fabrications. In the foreground, a soaring monument of weathered stone. An obelisk with a pointed tip.
A blur, another scene. A bridge which seemed to float above a river, strands like those of a spider's web. In the water, the shapes of assorted vessels.
The faces of solemn giants carved on the side of a mountain.
A vast canyon.
A great waterfall.
Oceans, ice, deserts, endless fields of ripening grain. Massive pyramids, cities which stretched to the horizon, soaring buildings which reached for the sky.
Scene after scene, each filling the dome, all building to a culmination of awesome majesty.
One planet to have held so much!
Earth!
But not the world Dumarest had known. Here were no signs of dreadful scars, the arid bleakness he had known as a boy. No gaping sores-this was a world at peace, bursting with energy and life, a planet in its prime.
He blinked as the scenes ended, darkness closing in, momentarily disoriented.
"The things we must remember," whispered Vestaler. "Our ancient heritage, lost to us because of heinous ways. One day, when we are cleansed, it will be ours again."
Dumarest turned to move away, felt Usdon's grip on his arm.
"Wait. There is more."
A flicker and the dome shone with stars. Blazing points overlaid with names and numbers-Sinus 8.7, Procyon 11.4, Altair 16.5, Epsilon Indi 11.3, Alpha Centauri 4.3…
Signposts in the sky! Dumarest stared at them, impressing the data on his memory. Names and numbers which had to be distances. A relationship could be established by a computer, the common center determined, the modern coordinates found.
"Earl?" Usdon was beside him, his voice anxious. "Your face-is anything wrong."
Dumarest drew a deep breath. The raft was waiting, soon he would be on his way. Now, it would be only a matter of time before his search was over.
"No," be said. "Nothing is wrong."