Sybelline kept on the mask. «Never mind that. What is so strange?»
Ejata held up the knife. «I have no courage to kill myself.»
Sybelline took the knife. «You wish me to do it for you?»
«Please do.»
Sybelline cut her throat.
From the square came the high hooting of patrol sirens. She ran to a window. Morphi police were setting up a powder cannon near the main entrance. Cars were converging on the square from all directions. The Morphi militia would be here in a moment to see what had happened to the council. She must hide!
But where?
Fear crawled over her slim body like sweat trickling. She needed time. If she could hide, escape the first search, it was unlikely that the Morphi would waste much time in this place. They would be busy hunting down Gnomen.
There was no place to hide. The council room was spacious and barren, no closets or anterooms. She must join the dead.
Then she heard the whine of an ascending lift. Sybelline lay down beside the female Morphi she had just killed. She tugged up her gown, tore it and dipped the little knife in gore not her own. She stained her throat with the blood, inflicting faint cuts to aid the cheat, and took several deep breaths. She could pass for Morphi but for her green eyes. She must keep them shut and hope there was no member of the Morphi guard who would be puzzled by the presence of two females at the council.
They were in the room now… voices and footsteps… the curt commands of a captain.
«Nothing here. All dead.»
«We have no government, then.»
«Not your worry. The militia will form a provisional one. Half of you to the down lift at once, and the other half down the chute. We must protect the power complex at all costs. Be wary. The Gnomen are more cunning than we knew. The chute may be blocked or they may have a force in the complex. You know what to do. Go!»
«But this-the elders? Should we not-«
«Go, I said. This mess can be cleaned up later. Go.»
They were gone. Sybelline waited a few minutes, then got to her feet and went to the window again. From this vantage she had a full view of the square. Across the artificial turf women were leaping from roofs and high windows. Their high screams mingled, forming the sound of a continual shrilling. Sybelline smiled. Let them kill themselves, the more the better. She had taken many women as lovers but she did not really like them. Women always caused her more trouble than men.
She went to the head of the table. The elder of elders, grave and patrician even in death, and still beautiful as were all the Morphi, sat in his chair. He had been scarcely mutilated, but for the power stud hooked from his neck.
Sybelline pushed him out of the chair and sat down. She knew just what to do. She had waited long for this moment.
Sybelline gazed at a row of buttons set into the table. She pressed one of them. A panel slid back and a screen, smilar to the one in her apartment, slid out and up. She pressed another button. A rod with a mirror end shot out from the end of the table and at the same time a window opened. The rod pushed out into the beam of a searchlight. She twiddled an adjustment dial. The image of Onta appeared on the screen.
The Chief of Brain Secrets looked the same-massive head and thick neck, the neat graying hair and beard-but his words were sarcastic and his smile ironic. He plucked at his beard with well-kempt fingers.
«Reverse,» he ordered.
She pressed the button.
Onta said, «I see you have realized one ambition. You are in the chair of power, if not the seat.»
She dared as she had not dared before. «This is no time for subtlety, Onta. Action is needed, at once. You are aware of what is happening down here?»
Onta actually smiled. «Of course I know. I approve. Let them destroy each other.»
Sybelline scowled into the machine. «If they do that, whom do I rule?»
«You still cherish that dream?»
«I do. And you promised me, Onta.»
Onta hooded his eyes. His smile was not pleasant. «So I did, Sybelline. And you promised me Blade-unharmed. Instead you have turned on the Morphi power and started a massacre. The man Blade is sure to be slain. He is no good to us dead. All promises are void.»
«I could not wait, Onta. I dared not. And Blade may not be dead. He is cunning and a great warrior. But you must know all this. You Selenes know everything.»
«Not quite,» confessed Onta. «Even we cannot see into basements. Your man Blade has gone underground. I think not the sewers, but somewhere.»
A thought struck her. «He may come here, Onta. He knows of this place. I may keep my word yet. Can you help me?»
His face was cruel. «Why should I? You are nothing to me.»
«For the man Blade, then? If I can save him for you?»
Onta nodded. «To that I agree. Produce Blade for me, unharmed and fit to be examined by our scientists, and the deal is on again. The moment I am sure of Blade, I will stop the fighting and make you Queen.»
«You promise to enforce this?»
Onta smiled into his beard. «I promise. The more easily because I do not think you can do it, Sybelline. I think you have lost. You might be wise to destroy yourself as the Morphi women are doing. I know that rape holds no terrors for you, but there are other things worse.»
From the square outside there came a sudden clamor. Shouts and the brutal clash of arms, bellowing and screaming, the sibilant hiss of the powder cannon as it fired-shutt-shuttt-shutt
«There is fighting in the square,» said Sybelline.
Onta nodded on the screen. «I see it.» It was the sound of Blade's voice, raised above the din, that sent Sybelline scurrying to the window again. Behind her Onta's voice said, «He risks everything. Save him. Get him atop the building and I will send a car. The moment he is safe you are Queen.»
Sybelline gazed at the battle in the square. Blade and some fifty Gnomen, all wearing masks, were fighting their way toward the powder cannon. The big man's voice, magnified by the speaker in the mask, roared metallically over the melee.
«Jantor-take twenty men and fight into the building. I will take the cannon. Seize the council chamber and look for Sybelline.»
Sybelline gazed, both enraptured and aghast, as Blade fought with the spear bar. Morphi bodies went down and were trampled. Blade had formed his small contingent into a moving square and they slashed through the disorganized Morphi like mole rats through flesh. With the masks they were more than a match for the beautiful people.
She spoke without looking at the screen. «Blade is winning. Soon he will have the powder cannon and command the square.»
Onta said, «I know. I also know what is in his mind. He will try to make peace. Between the Gnomen and the Morphi, between you and Jantor. But did you hear? If Jantor gets to you first he will kill you. He will not share the rule with you.»
She turned back to the screen. Onta was watching her with a cruel smile. «What can I do, Onta? Jantor is on his way up here.»
Onta smiled again. «You really need me, don't you? Do you swear absolute obedience? no more treachery?»
Sybelline fell to her knees, just as she had before Blade. «I do, I do.»
Onta nodded. «Very well. I will trust you this last time. Make the polyphone ready.»
She pressed one of the buttons. A microphone with a thimble size head rose from the table.
«Move it to the screen.»
Sybelline pressed another button. The mike swept around in a semicircular groove until it faced Onta's image. Sybelline heard lifts whining upward-who had shown Jantor how to use them? — and screamed at Onta, «Hurry! Jantor will be here in seconds.»