Lisa said urgently, "Earl, nothing has been lost. Salek can vanish, Zenya also. Together we can return to Paiyar. The old man cannot last long, and when he dies, we shall rule."
"No."
She cried out, the same sound as she had made before, and again he felt what seemed to be a dull explosion within his skull. But minor now, and he made no move toward the phone. The trigger hadn't worked; a one-shot command, perhaps, an overlay of the deeper compulsion, an ironic jest of Chan Parect, or perhaps it had been negated by the hallucinogen he had inhaled, his own struggle in the cavern.
He said quietly, "It doesn't work, Lisa. You can't rule me now."
Zenya laughed.
It was as if she had lashed the woman across the face. The elfin features grew haggard, ugly, the eyes blazing with maniacal rage. Like a spring, she rose from the couch and lunged forward, hands extended, nails catching the light, reaching for his eyes.
His left arm swept upward, slamming beneath the wrists, lifting the poisoned fingers. As they rose, he felt the knife snatched from his hand, heard the blow, saw Lisa's sudden look of shocked disbelief, the unmistakable filming of her eyes.
"Earl," she whispered. "Earl…"
He caught her as she fell, blood running from her mouth as he rested her on the floor.
Zenya laughed again, high, shrill. She stood with the knife in her hand, ugly stains on her arm, the front of her dress. Her eyes blazed, alight, insane. "I did it! I killed the bitch! Now we can be together!"
* * *
The cell was like others he had known, a barred window showing the lights of the field, the glow of the sky. More bars ran from roof to floor, enclosing a cot, toilet facilities, a square of faded carpet. From where he sat with his back against a wall, Dumarest could see a portion of the corridor and the foot of a barred door at its end. From beyond it came little sounds, the scrape of a chair, the coughing of the jailer, the thud of heavy boots.
More footsteps joined the others, softer, pausing as the door opened, halting again at the cell. As the door clanked open, Colonel Paran stepped inside.
"I know you didn't do it," he said, dropping to the edge of the cot. "Salek told me, the girl too."
"What will happen to her?"
"Nothing. She will be put on the first ship leaving for Paiyar. That is the least we can do for the lady of the marshal of Chard."
"Paiyar? You know?"
"From almost the first, Earl. Before I donned this,"- Paran touched his uniform- "I was chief of police. I held that position for fifteen years. Long enough to have established certain habits, among them one of checking every important detail. And, to be honest, your lady was a little indiscreet."
A danger impossible to avoid, but why had the pretense been allowed to continue?
Paran shrugged at the question. "You seemed to know what you were doing, Earl. And you helped my boy. After that, I didn't give a damn who or what you were, just as long as you could resolve the mess." He looked bleakly at the cell. "I'm sorry about this, but the formalities had to be observed. You understand?"
"And now?"
"That's what I want to talk about, Earl. For me, yon could stay as marshal for as long as you like. The men are with you, the officers too. The pods have been tested, and what you said is true. A hell of a mess, but it has to be faced. I doubt if Chard will ever be the same again."
"That needn't be a bad idea," said Dumarest. "You had a tight economic society here, and they are always vulnerable. Fire, storm, disease-anything can happen. What are your own plans now?"
"I'm not sure. The army-"
"Should be kept. You need a counterbalance to the influence of the growers."
A counterbalance and a force to oppose the vested interests, which discounted human life in the search for gain. Dumarest said, "The Ayutha need to be protected and their rights safeguarded. Salek could advise you on that if you decide to let him stay."
"I'll think about it, Earl, but that can come later. You're more important. Oaken and Stone don't like you. Raougat has sworn to kill you. You can handle him, I know, but he isn't alone. You made him look small, and he can't forget that. That business with the pods…" Paran shook his head. "You took a hell of a chance."
"Not really," said Dumarest. "They all came from the oldest plants I could find."
"A bluff? Well, if so, it worked. No one thinks of blaming the Ayutha now. In fact, everyone wants to help them." He paused, then added, "As I want to help you, Earl. Chard owes you a hell of a lot. As I said, you can stay, but there's something you had better know. The Council has called on the Cyclan to help them in the emergency."
And the first thing they would do would be to demand him as a part of their price. Dumarest said, "It doesn't matter. They would have known I was here anyway. The Cyclan aren't fools. They would have known I landed on Paiyar and predicted where I would arrive. You know how they operate."
"I know." Paran drew a deep breath. "I think we're going to need that army. Something to face up to the growers and the red swine they've employed. I've lived through something like this before, on Elchan… Well, that doesn't matter now. You're leaving, then?"
"Yes."
"I thought you would. I've had the money owing you put into oils and loaded on the Topheir. I've had it held until you made a decision. It'll leave when you're ready." Paran rose. "There's not much else to say, Earl, aside from thanking you for what you've done." He held out his hand in an old-fashioned gesture. His grip was hard. "There's someone else outside who wants to see you."
It was Salek. He came from a circle of light, to stand thin and a little forlorn in his robe. "You've heard about Zenya?"
Dumarest nodded.
"She loves you, Earl. She killed just to save you. She will wait for you on Paiyar-she asked me to tell you that."
"She'll wait a long time," said Dumarest. "I'm not going back to that world, and if you've any sense, neither will you, until your father is dead."
"Earl!" Salek hesitated. "There's something else. When Lisa was talking, she mentioned your interest in ancient things. That world you are looking for? Earth?"
Dumarest remembered what Chan Parect had said- that if he found Salek, he would find the answer to his search. A lie, he had thought, another bribe to add to the rest, yet there was always the thin chance that, for once, the old man had told the truth.
"You know where it is?"
"No, not exactly, that is…" Salek broke off, making a helpless gesture. "I can't be sure," he complained. "But there are names. Sirius, Polaris, Alpha Centaurus, Procyon. Polaris was reputed to be the one star that didn't move. I'm not helping you much, but there's something more. A suspicion, but I think-in fact, I'm almost certain-that the Cyclan knows just where the planet is to be found."
The one group he couldn't question.
"Does it help, Earl?"
"Yes," said Dumarest. "It helps."
Then he turned and walked across the field to where the Topheir was waiting, Branchard standing at the foot of the ramp, grinning a welcome.
"Glad you could make it, Earl. Now, let's get on our way."
Up and out on a series of random journeys impossible to predict, to move on to where the stars hung thin against the sky and ancient names were remembered. To the one world he was searching for and, one day, would find.