"There, Earl, you see?" Del Meoud released his breath in a gust of relief. "No one here is to blame. In fact, you should thank the cyber for guiding the rescue. If it hadn't been for him, you would be dead by now." He found his handkerchief and dabbed again at his lips. Tossing the square of fabric back into the drawer he made as if to rise.

"Sit down!" Dumarest's voice cracked like a whip. "The cyber knew where to find me. He could not pick one spot in an entire range of hills simply because my partner ordered a rope. If you believe that, you would believe anything. He could say how to find me because he knew where I was."

"Now, wait a minute, Earl! Are you accusing the cyber?"

"No, Meoud. I'm accusing you!"

The factor lifted a hand and touched his lips. "Me? Earl, have you gone crazy? Why the hell should I send men out after you?"

"Because you're greedy; because you're fed up with this planet and you want something better. Listen," said Dumarest. "At the end of winter two men tried to kill me. They wanted something I own. This." He held up his left hand, catching the light on his ring so that it shone like freshly spilt blood. "The cyber wasn't here then, neither was the Lord of Jest. Only one man could have told them where I was; only one man could have primed those jumpers so they knew where to look. You, Meoud!"

"No, Earl, you're wrong! I swear it!"

"You can't," said Dumarest softly. "Because there's something I haven't told you. Those three men didn't all die at the same time. One lived for a while and he talked. He was glad to talk. He told me that you had given them their orders, that you were going to handle the selling of the loot."

"Wrong," said the factor. He was sweating, his beard dripping with perspiration. He reached for the drawer, his hand scrabbling, metal shining as he lifted it from beneath the handkerchief.

Dumarest threw his knife.

It was a blur.

The factor made a strained coughing sound as he bent forward, one hand reaching for his throat and the hilt of the blade, the other releasing the laser which fell with a thud to the floor,

Jocelyn looked at the pistol, then at the factor doubled over on his desk, a red stain widening from the knife buried in his neck.

"You killed him," he said blankly. "I didn't even see you move."

"He betrayed himself," said Dumarest. "He reached for a gun in order to kill me. I didn't feel like letting him do it."

Thoughtfully Jocelyn looked at Dumarest. The man was cold, ruthless and fast. He could have thrown the knife at any one of them with equal skill. He thought of Ilgash and wondered what protection the man would be if present. None, he decided.

He watched as Dumarest tugged out the knife and wiped it on the handkerchief he took from the drawer. "So it's over then? You've killed the man you were after."

Dumarest met his eyes. "No, my lord, it isn't yet over."

Jocelyn frowned. "I do not understand."

"I want to know why the two men who tried to kill me wanted my ring, why Meoud wanted it. I want to know more of the three men who jumped me and the person who sent you to rescue me when they didn't return."

"Adrienne? But what part could my wife have in this?"

"Not your wife, my lord." said Dumarest patiently. "But the one who set the idea in her mind, the one who told you exactly where I was to be found." He looked directly at Yeon. "Well, cyber? Are you going to tell me the answer?"

Yeon remained impassive. "I cannot."

"A pity."

"A statement of fact. I do not know why anyone should want your ring."

"But you want it." Dumarest stepped a little closer to the scarlet figure. "You gave orders it was to be taken, but you don't know why, is that it? You are merely obeying instructions?"

"That is so." Yeon abruptly took his hands from within his sleeves. One of them held a fragile ball of glass. Within it trapped yellow caught the light. "Put aside the knife," he ordered. "Quickly. Obey or I will destroy you both."

It fell with a ringing sound on the desk.

Jocelyn stepped forward and halted as Dumarest caught his arm.

"Be careful, my lord. He holds a container of parasitic spores, probably mutated, a vicious weapon."

It was a safe one. Who would query such a death on a world like Scar?

Yeon stepped to the door and opened it. The panel swung inwards and he stood in the gap, the door half open, his free hand gripping the edge.

"Wait!" Dumarest extended his left hand. "My ring. Do you want it?"

"No." Yeon hesitated, then yielded to temptation, eager to enjoy the only pleasure he could experience, to tell these emotional animals how he and what he represented would achieve their aim. "Keep it," he said. "It will be a simple matter to obtain it from your body." His brooding eyes fell on Jocelyn. "And you have served your purpose. The marriage is a fact. Even if your wife is not yet pregnant, such a simple matter can be arranged. Selected sperm taken from our biological laboratories to match your physical characteristics and accelerated gestation to adjust the time element will make her the proud mother of an heir to both Jest and Eldfane."

She would be hopelessly dependent on the Cyclan to keep the secret, to maintain her in power, and to safeguard the precious child. She could wear the baubles of rule, the Cyclan would have the real power. Another firm step would have been taken towards the final domination of the habitable worlds. His reward could surely be nothing less than an early incorporation into the central intelligence.

Yeon threw down the container of spores.

Dumarest moved. He flung himself forward, warned by the subtle movement of a sleeve, a tensing of the hand resting on the edge of the panel. His hand shot out, caught the glass ball, lifted it and threw it directly into the cyber's face.

It broke with a crystalline tinkle, a cloud of yellow rising about the shaven skull. Yeon staggered back as Dumarest thrust at his chest and slammed the door.

Sweating, he listened to the noises from outside, the bumping and threshing, muffled cries and incoherent moaning.

"Gods of space!" Jocelyn stood by the window. He pointed with a trembling hand. "Look at that!"

A scarlet figure stood outside. A growing ball of yellow frothed from the open robe, two smaller ones hung at the end of each sleeve. Yeon had staggered outside unaware of direction. He could feel no pain but the multiplying fungus clogged his mouth and his nostrils, grew on the surface of his eyes, sprouted from his ears and filled his lungs. It dug into his flesh, thrusting through the pores of his skin, growing until even the scarlet of the robe was hidden.

After a while the threshing stopped and a swollen ball of yellow fungus lay quivering on the ground.

* * *

Dumarest dug his spoon into a mound of emerald jelly, tasted it and found it both astringent and smooth to the tongue. "The cyber had an accident," he said. "That is all you need to say. The Cyclan are not eager for their intrigues to come to light."

Adrienne frowned. "But what of their aid? How can we manage without their guidance?"

"As we did before, my dear." Jocelyn was sharp. "You did not hear the man. He regarded you as a beast to be put to breeding for the Cyclan's purpose. Perhaps that would not have bothered you, but once the child had been accepted, how long do you think you would have been permitted to stay alive?"

"Surely you exaggerate."

Dumarest put down his spoon. The cabin was snug and intimate with its ancient furnishings. It only needed an open fire to complete the illusion that it was part of a stronghold rather than a space vessel.

"Never underestimate the Cyclan, my lady," he said. "Their plans are subtle and rarely as innocent as they seem. They are like spiders twitching the strands of a web so as to ensnare those over whom they seek power." Casually he added. "Tell me, do you have many cybers on your home world?"