“In a crowd like this, my barriers aren’t worth too much,” I said. I knew what he meant, though. The Hastur and Alton Gifts were mutually antagonistic, the two like poles of a magnet which cannot be made to touch. I didn’t know what the Hastur Gift was; but from time immemorial in the Comyn, Hastur and Alton could work together only with infinite precaution — even in the matrix screens. Regis, a latent Hastur, his Gift dormant, I could join in rapport; could even force it on him undesired. A developed Hastur, which he had suddenly become, could knock my mind from his with the fury of lightning. Regis and I could read each other’s minds if we wanted to — ordinary telepathy isn’t affected — but we could probably never link in rapport again.
Reluctantly I found myself wondering. I had forced contact on Regis,; had he taken this step to protect himself from another such attempt? Didn’t he trust me?
But before I could ask him, the dome lights were switched off. Immediately the room was flooded with streaming, silvery moonlight; there was a soft “A — ah!” from the thronged guests as, through the clearing dome, the four moons, blazing now in full conjunction, lighted the floor like daylight. Suddenly, I felt a light touch, and looked down to see Dio Ridenow standing beside me.
Her dress — a molded tabard of some stuff that gleamed, green and blue and silver, in the shifting moonlight — was so breathtakingly fitted to her body that it might as well have been sprayed on; and her fair hair, the color of the moonlight, rippled like water with the glint of jewels. She tossed her head, with a little silvery chiming of tiny bells.
“Well? Am I beautiful enough for you?”
I tried to sidestep the provocative tone, the green witch-fire in her saucy eyes. “I must say it is an improvement over your riding breeches,” I said dryly.
She giggled and tucked her hand through my arm; a hard, light little hand. “Dance with me, Lew? A secain?” Without waiting for my answer, she tapped the rhythm-pattern on the light-panel, and after a moment the steady, characteristic beat of the secain throbbed into the invisible music.
The secain is no formal promenade. Last year Dio and I had outraged the dowagers and the dandies, even on the pleasure-world of Vainwal, by dancing it there. I didn’t want to dance it here. The floor was almost cleared now; most of the Thendara women are too prim for this wild and ancient mountain dance.
Still, I owed Dio something.
For a Darkovan girl, Dio was not a particularly expert dancer. But she was warm and vibrant; she smiled teasingly up at me, and, resenting that smile which took so much for granted, I whirled her till another girl would have screamed for mercy. But as she came upright she laughed at me; as always, she was scornful of my strength. She was like spring-steel tempered to my touch.
In the last figure of the dance I caught her tighter than the pattern of the dance demanded. This we had come to know well, this sense of being in key, body and mind, a closer touch than any physical intimacy. The beat of the secain throbbed in my blood, and as the music pulsed and pounded to climax, my senses pounded and pulsed, and as the final explosive drum-and-cymbal chord quivered and rang, I kissed her — hard.
The silence was anticlimax. Dio slid from my arms, and under the softening music we passed out under the open sky.
“I’ve been wondering—” teasingly, Dio lowered her voice, “when Hastur told you about your child — did you wonder about me?”
I frowned, displeased. That came too close for comfort. She laughed, but the laugh was sharp and mirthless.
“Thanks. I wasn’t, if that helps any. Lew — do you really want that girl Callina?”
This I would not discuss with Dio.
“Why? Do you care?”
“Not much.” But it didn’t sound convincing. “But I think you’re a fool. After all, she’s not a woman—”
Now I was really shocked. This was not like Dio. I said, angrily, “As much as yourself!”
“That’s almost funny, coming from you!”
I threatened, “Dio, if you make a scene, I will find it a pleasure to break your neck.”
“I know you will!” She was laughing again, but this tune it was high and hysterical. “That’s what I love about you! Your solution for all problems! Kill someone! Break a neck or two! But one thing I know, for sure; Callina’s finished, and Ashara’s going to lose her pawn!”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
She was still laughing that wildly hysterical laughter, “You’ll see! It could have been you, you know, you could have saved them all that trouble! You and your crazy scruples! You cheated yourself, and especially /Callina! Or, should I say, you played Ashara’s game—”
I caught her wrist with the trick hold I’d used on Regis and wrenched her abruptly round. My fingers crushed on her wrist till she writhed, “You brute, you’re breaking my arm! Damn it, Lew, you’re not funny, you’re hurting me!”
“You ought to be hurt,” I said savagely. “You ought to be beaten! What are they going to do to Callina? Tell me, or I swear, Dio, I’ve never used the Gift on a woman before, but I’ll tear it out of you if I have to!”
“You couldn’t!” We were facing each other now in a blaze of fury that obliterated everything outside. “Remember?”
“Damn you!” The truth made me savage. Dio alone of all people was completely and perfectly protected against my Gift, forever — because of what had been between us on Vainwal. It had to be that way.
There are things no telepath, no man, can control. That-touching — in intimacy, is one of them. And Dio was one of the hypersensitive Ridenow. To safeguard her sanity, I had given her certain defenses against me. I could never take more from her, telepathically, than she wanted to give. More was impossible. I could remove that barrier — if I wanted to kill her. No other way.
I swore, impotently. Suddenly Dio flung her arms around my neck, eyes burning at me like green flames. “You blind fool,” she choked, “you can’t see what’s before your very eyes, and you’ll go blundering in again and spoil it all! Can’t you trust me?”
She was very close, and the contact was dizzying. Realizing, what she was doing, I thrust her suddenly and roughly away. “That won’t get you anywhere.”
Her face hardened. “Very well. There is a rumor current — and believed — that only a virgin may hold Callina’s particular powers. There is, shall I say, a certain faction which holds to the belief that we would all be better off if Callina were — let’s say — made suddenly powerless. And since your conduct is above reproach, there is one way to remedy the situation—”
I stared at her, dimly beginning to realize what she meant. But that was horrible! And was there any man on Darkover who would dare — “Dio, if this is your idea of a filthy joke—”
“A joke, but it’s on Ashara,” she said. Suddenly she grew quiet and deadly serious. “Lew, trust me. I can’t explain, but you’ve got to keep out of it. Callina isn’t what you think, not at all. She isn’t—”
I brought my hand back and slapped her, hard. The blow sent her reeling. “You’ve had that coming for a year,” I grated.
Suddenly Regis was close beside me; in an instant he had caught the overflowing of my thought, and his face paled. “Callina!”
Dio stood holding her cheek where I had slapped her, staring open-mouthed; but she threw herself forward on me now. “Wait,” she begged, “Wait, you don’t understand—”
I thrust her aside, swearing. Regis kept pace with me. Finally he breathed, “But who would dare? A Keeper, remember — actually to lay hands on her?”
I stopped. “Dyan,” I said at last, quietly. “What did she say, in council? No man lives to maul me three times. If that were the first—”
We were in light surface contact. Abruptly I stopped him; he looked at me grimly and the touch of his mind fell from mine as clasped hands loosen.