Angado dot-29 Read online

  "The den," said Dumarest. "You know, I've forgotten where it is."

  "Just down the hall and-" Wynne broke off, shaking her head. "How could you have forgotten so soon?"

  "Maybe I've had other things on my mind." His eyes held hers, their message plain. "Come with me. You can show me that trick with the lights you mentioned. Perhaps I could learn something."

  "I doubt it." Her smile was inviting. "Come on, then I won't be long, Luigi, when I come back I'll make some tisane. You like tisane, Earl?"

  "I'd like anything you make."

  He followed her from the salon, a man eager to get her alone, to recapture the experience of the night, its joy and pleasure. Coming close to her as she paused before a door ending a passage, his left hand rising to rest against her back, his head lowering to touch her cheek with his lips.

  As she relaxed he jerked open the door with his right hand, pushed with his left, slamming the door after her as she staggered through the opening. A second and he heard the thud of her falling body.

  "Wynne?" Perotto called out as Dumarest neared the salon. "Wynne, is everything all right?"

  He was standing beside the wide window facing the waterfall. He was not alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As a man Avro had never known physical pleasure. The operation performed on him when young had seen to that; one deft stroke of the scalpel had turned him into a living, thinking, unfeeling machine. But now he rode the crest of a giddy intoxication born of mental achievement.

  Dumarest caught, trapped, safe in his hand.

  The man the Cyclan had hunted for so long and who had escaped so often, leaving dead cybers to mark his success, now the living proof of his own efficiency. The key to his own survival; soon now he would be safe in his vat joined in a gestalt of his own kind.

  A moment he relished, extending it as he saw Dumarest catch the scarlet of his robe, spinning, halting the movement of his hand toward the knife in his boot, lifting it instead to his chin. A casual gesture of outward calm to mask the tension within and a warning of the true nature of the man. One who had assessed the situation in a flash, recognizing the futility of violence, gaining time by talking while apparently relaxed.

  "Cyber Avro. This is a surprise. I never thought to see you again."

  "Did you think the Cyclan so foolish as to believe the report of your death?"

  "It was worth the chance."

  "Negated once you used your credited funds."

  "Of course." Dumarest touched his left forearm with the fingers of his right hand. Watching as eyes followed the gesture, dropping the hand slowly to his side. "You learned I was on Yuanka and traced me from there. And found an ally, I see. A willing accomplice. What is his price? The death of his cousin?"

  Perotto said, "Where is Wynne?"

  "Enjoying the sleep she meant for me. Your idea or hers? Or did you set the trap?" Dumarest looked at the cyber. "My guess is that you were the guiding mind."

  "You knew." Perotto gnawed at the subject like a dog with a bone. "About the gas. But how?"

  Small items adding to form an uneasy whole, the sum triggering the instinctive reaction of a man determined to survive. A shallow answer and Avro knew there had to be more; the trait he was certain Dumarest possessed and which gave him the thing known as luck.

  Dumarest said, "She was too friendly on too short an acquaintance and too eager to show me the sights. Time gained for you to feed Angado that filth. Not just something to make him puking drunk; such sights must be common in this society. Nor to show his friends what a weakling he is; they already knew that. You wanted to arouse their disgust and win their sympathy. Left alone he would have vomited then climbed to his feet. He would have stunk and staggered and he would have had an overwhelming desire to talk. He would have babbled and revealed his innermost nature. Become maudlin, sentimental, affectionate, amorous-and we both know he has a dislike of women."

  "That is no secret."

  "As Zaremba demonstrated when he tried to stop me helping Angado. He knew you wanted him shamed."

  "That bothers you?" Perotto sneered. "You? A common traveler? A sycophant? A criminal? A man willing to take money to kill a friend who trusts him? Do you deny that?"

  "A trap to get the man wanting him dead into admitting it," said Dumarest. "You want him dead. That's why you're helping the Cyclan. That's why you used Cranmer." He looked through the window at the waterfall. "He almost got away with it."

  "He was a fool."

  "Just as you are. As any man is who works with the Cyclan. Do you imagine you can use them and then forget them? And what of your own danger? How can they allow you to live now you know so much? Soon you will begin to wonder why I am so important to them. What makes me so valuable." Dumarest paused then added, "Side with me and I'll tell you."

  Information which could kill; had killed for the existence of the affinity-twin must not be divulged. Perotto was as good as dead and Avro could appreciate the skill Dumarest was displaying. Attempting to drive a wedge between himself and the other; dividing so as to rule.

  He said, "You waste your time. Killing me will gain you nothing. The apartment is sealed and men are stationed outside. As an intelligent man you can recognize the inevitable and yield. Do not force me to use this." Avro lifted his hand and displayed the weapon he had kept hidden in his wide sleeve. One which would vent a cloud of stunning vapor at the pressure of his finger.

  Perotto said, "He is armed. His knife-"

  "Leave it." Avro knew of Dumarest's speed. "If he reaches for it I will fire."

  To stun and render unconscious but not to kill. He was too important to the Cyclan for that, which meant Perotto would not be armed with conventional weapons; Avro could never trust his aim. An advantage Dumarest assessed as, again, he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. The cyber was making the basic mistake of talking when he should have acted. A need to mentally gloat, perhaps, but a weakness which had yielded information as to the trap he had closed on his victim.

  One from which he had to escape or die.

  Dumarest moved to one side, away from the door at his rear, checking distance and opportunity. Perotto faced him on one side, Avro, gun leveled, stood before him and the window. Ready now to shoot or summon help-and once he fired and the gas took effect the thing would be over.

  "I yield," said Dumarest quickly. "You are correct-I have no choice. There is no need to use the gas. It would be inefficient. I'd have to be carried and the elevator is small. It would be better if I walked. It would give you greater credit; my capture would be yours alone."

  The truth and Avro knew it. The reason he had insisted on facing Dumarest leaving lshaq and his men on the surface. A matter of pride if not of perfect judgment but what could go wrong?

  His vision blurred as, suddenly, a pain filled his skull. Pain and the realization of the mistake he had made.

  Now! He must correct it while there was still time. Now! The gun aimed as he fought a rising nausea, finger tightening on the release. Now!

  "No!" The voice filled the chamber as Angado threw himself into the room. "No!"

  * * *

  He had waited outside, listening, an ally in reserve, now acting with speed which emulated Dumarest's own. A small, round tray left his hand, spinning across the room to strike Avro's wrist and send the vapor-gun to the floor. The cyber followed it, twitching, hands clutching at his head. Then Angado was close to Dumarest, stooping, snatching the knife from his boot, lunging toward Perotto with the blade lifted to strike.

  "You lied to me. Cheated me. Wanted me shamed. You filth! You stinking filth! Die, you bastard!"

  Words instead of action and time given for Perotto to spring to one side, to lift the hand adorned with the heavy ring, for something to spurt from it and land with a thin, waspish drone against Angado's skull.

  As he fell Dumarest was moving.

  He dived forward, low, rising as Perotto turned toward him, shoulder catching the underside of the hand aimed at h
is face and throwing it upward as he struck. One blow smashed into Perotto's stomach and sent him doubling forward. Another dropped him to the ground. A third sent him to sprawl, gasping, face upward as Dumarest fell to his knees beside him. As the ringed hand swung toward him he grabbed it, aimed the ring at the orifice of the gaping mouth, squeezed to release the darts held within the gemmed casing.

  Two of them sang as they buried themselves deep into the soft inner tissue of the throat, creating a black crater of destruction, filling the body with toxic poisons as it filled the mouth with blood and pain.

  "Earl!"

  Angado was dying. The dart which had struck his head was buried deep above the left eye, already into the bone, the brain beneath. Dumarest knelt beside him, reaching for the throat, resting his fingers against the carotids.

  "Earl! I-"

  "Easy." Dumarest's voice was warmly reassuring. "Just relax, Angado. This is just a dream. A bad dream. When you wake you'll forget all about it. It's just a dream."

  "No." Angado swallowed and then, incredibly, managed to smile. "It's real and I know it. As I want you to know something, Earl. I love… I…" He writhed beneath Dumarest's hands, sweat dewing his face, his throat. "You, Earl. I love…"

  He stiffened and lost the smile as he lost the power of speech and the one became the rictus of death as the other grew into a silence which filled the world. One broken by the muted drone of the waterfall, the faint, insectlike scrap of a moving hand.

  Avro reaching for his gun.

  It lay beneath the wide window and his fingers touched it as Dumarest reared upright, closed on it as he moved forward, twisted it to aim as he approached, fired as, holding his breath, he dived toward the door.

  Opening it as green vapor closed around him, falling through it into the open air of the balcony, clutching the rail as the wind tore the clinging mist from his face and body and his lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

  Seconds dragging into minutes then he breathed and breathed again of the cool, damp, life-giving air.

  Avro lay slumped on the floor, his breathing shallow, his gaunt face relaxed in the sleep the gas had created. A man felled in the moment of victory by the pain which had turned his mind and body into a rebellious machine. Dumarest checked he was helpless then snatching up his knife returned to the balcony and hung dangerously over the rail.

  Beneath him the rock had been cut away in a smooth concave sweep devoid of any trace of hand or foothold. That above was as formidable; a carved overhang moist with condensation pearling the near-mirror finish. Only the sides were left.

  Dumarest moved to the right, stepped up to balance on the rail and, extending his arm, quested along the stone. He found nothing and moved to the other side, this time probing with his knife. The point found a crack, slipped into it, held for a moment then rasped free.

  Back in the apartment he went into Angado's bedroom, found sheets, ripped them into strips to form a rope, lashed one end around his waist. On the balcony he tied the free end to the rail and, mounting it, tried again. This time the knife held and he swung from the rail on its support. His left hand found a hold and he heaved, boots scrabbling for purchase. A few inches and he rested before moving again. Farther out this time, a little higher, the knife coming free to find a new hold. Up and along again to halt as the rope tightened at his waist.

  The moment of decision as wind tore at his hair and the roar of falling water echoed in his ears.

  To free himself from the rope was to risk everything on his ability to climb to the upper edge of the chasm, avoid the men waiting there and make his escape in some way. To return to the apartment was to reenter the trap Avro had constructed; a sealed place from which there was only one exit and that guarded by watchful men.

  Taken, he would be held, questioned, his mind probed to the last cell. He would be stripped of all knowledge then discarded as so much useless garbage. To attempt to climb was to risk falling to the rocks below. A quick death against one of long-drawn torment.

  A choice made for him as rock crumbled beneath his boot and the knife slipped free to send him falling to halt with a jerk at the end of the rope. Thrusting the blade back into his boot he climbed hand over hand back to the balcony.

  On the floor Avro stirred; a crippled spider tormented by savage dreams. From the room of bizarre decorations came the rolling echo of drums as Wynne Tewson pounded feebly at the door.

  * * *

  She was pale, lips almost bloodless, eyes marred by a yellowish tinge. The silver helmet of her hair was mussed and a bruise showed livid on her left cheek. She fought against Dumarest's arms as he dragged her into the bathroom, stripping her before holding her beneath the stinging shower. As she dried herself, shivering from the icy spray, he searched her clothing, pocketing the keys he found.

  "You bastard!" Dressed, she glared at him. "You smart, know-it-all bastard!"

  "Shut your mouth."

  "Lying to me. Kissing me-then shoving me into that gas. And then what? Woke Angado, I suppose and used him to help you. Now you want me to do the same. Well, you can go to hell!"

  "You'll go first." He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the main salon. "Over the edge and down to the rocks." He pointed at the open door of the balcony. "You want that?"

  "You wouldn't-"

  "What have I to lose?" He was curt in his interruption. "Men are waiting on the surface to take me. If they do it's my life. You tried to trap me-why the hell should I consider you? Make your choice. You help or you go over." He pulled her toward the opening. To where the roar of falling water filled the air. "What's it to be?"

  A choice that was no choice at all. She looked at the water, his eyes, the mouth that had grown cruel.

  "I'll help, but what can I do? This place is like a prison."

  With men waiting outside on guard. By why did they wait? How long had they been ordered to stand by before taking action? Who would give the order for them to move in?

  Avro stirred again and Dumarest guessed the answer. One verified as he stripped off the scarlet robe to reveal the mechanism clipped inside. A small transmitter which, when activated, would bring the others crashing in. The gas had worked too quickly for the cyber to have used it-a failure that gave Dumarest a chance.

  "It won't work." Wynne stared as Dumarest donned the scarlet robe. "You'll never pass for a cyber."

  "Maybe not."

  "What happened to him?" She glanced at Perotto lying in a pool of blood that had drained from his mouth. "Did you do that?"

  "He killed Angado."

  "So you killed him?"

  She shivered as he nodded, knowing he would kill her with the same lack of compassion if she thwarted him. As he would kill anyone who presented a threat or who had done him injury. An attribute she had sensed when lying in his arms. Even when sharing a mutual passion and, remembering it, she felt a sudden desire.

  "Earl! Earl, you can trust me!"

  Dumarest ignored her, cutting free the rope still hanging from the balcony, dipping a portion of it into the carmine pool beside Perotto's head, winding it around his skull to form a blood-stained bandage which covered most of his face. With talc from the bathroom he whitened his features and stooped for the robe to sweep the floor.

  Scarlet identified a cyber, one hurt, his face almost invisible beneath the bandage and the drawn cowl.

  "Earl?"

  He said, "The way out is by the elevator or the stairs. The stairs will be guarded so we'll use the elevator. I'll lean on you and you'll explain to anyone who asks that I was hurt by the man I came for. He's still downstairs gassed and helpless."

  She was bitter at his rejection. "Then what? We take wings and fly?"

  "One thing at a time. First we get out. Unless we do that the rest doesn't matter."

  "Not to you," she agreed. "But I'd just as soon stay here."

  "As a corpse?" Dumarest stepped close to her, the knife glimmering in his hand. Steel as hard as the determination stamped on his fac
e. "I'm fighting for my life, girl. Remember that. Cross me and you'll be dead. The same if you betray me. The same if you don't cooperate. Now let's get going."

  The elevator sighed down and to a halt at Wynne's signal. It held a man who went down beneath the smashing impact of Dumarest's knife, the pommel a hammer throwing the man into unconsciousness. Blood would have betrayed the deception; the missing man could prove an asset. Dumarest dragged him from the elevator before locking the woman to him with his left arm, his right hand with the knife slipping close to prick her flesh through the clothing.

  "He was sent to stand guard over Dumarest," he said. "If anyone should ask that's what you tell them. Volunteer the information if they are suspicious but don't go into too much detail."

  "Dumarest?"

  "Just do as I say." She winced as the point dug deeper. "Up now."

  The door slid shut and the elevator moved upward. As it came to a halt Dumarest sagged even more, throwing his weight against the woman, twisting to hide the blade he held against her.

  "Master!" The acolyte was concerned, stepping forward as he saw the figure in the scarlet robe. "Master, are you hurt?"

  "A head injury." Wynne answered the question. "Please step to one side."

  Tupou obeyed, checking the empty elevator, stepping toward it.

  "The man is guarding Dumarest." Wynne spoke quickly, conscious of the knife at her side. "Inform your master that he is ready to be taken."

  His master? Ishaq had his own aides but Tupou was assigned to Avro. A thing the cyber would have known if not the woman, but why hadn't he ordered her to summon aid if he was hurt? Especially when his acolyte was so close.

  Dumarest whispered, "Tell him to report to the other cyber." He had seen the glow of the scarlet robe. "You will attend me until Dumarest is taken. Hurry!"

  A matter of efficiency which the acolyte could appreciate. Avro was in no immediate danger but the quarry must be taken at all costs. And, if there was doubt, Ishaq could settle it.

  He came forward, impatient at the delay, the need to accede to Avro's decision. The operation had been badly conducted; too much time had passed since Dumarest had entered the trap. He should now be safely contained. As it was he had managed to hurt Avro and done who knew what else?