"The sequence-"
"Is something else." Dumarest raised his voice. "Odo?"
He stumbled as he entered the chamber, Vestaler at his side, Usdon at his rear. Catching his balance to stand, he was drooling, eyes blank as he looked at the dead.
"Odo want," he mumbled. "Give Odo something nice."
Dried fruits which he stuffed into his mouth to stand chewing, spittle dribbling over his chin. Vestaler was uneasy.
"Earl, what do you intend to do? If you kill the cyber, we shall all die. If you do not-"
"He could have lied," said Usdon. "Did he?"
"No."
"Then, if he dies, we shall all be destroyed?"
"Yes."
"So it is in your interest that I be kept alive," said Hsi evenly. "More, that I be obeyed. Dumarest must be held fast, firmly bound and guarded. You will do that. He will be placed in my raft, together with men to watch him." He rose from where he sat at the end of the table. "I shall leave immediately."
Usdon glanced at Vestaler. "Master?"
"We have no choice," said Vestaler bitterly. "I am sorry, Earl, but we have to do as the cyber says."
Do as he had predicted, but the achievement was minor, the mental pleasure small.
Dumarest said, "Wait. There is another way."
"The valley-"
"Will not be harmed. That I promise." The metal tube parted in his hands, revealed two small syringes, one tipped with red, the other green. "Red," he said, showing it to Hsi. "The submissive half of the affinity twin."
"So?"
"You wanted it-here it is!"
Dumarest moved with a sudden release of energy, crossing the distance between them before the other realized what he intended, the cyber's hand lifting, touching the syringe now buried in his neck.
"No! You-"
"Have solved the problem," said Dumarest harshly. "Think about it, cyber-if you can!"
If the man could still think at all. His intelligence was trapped by the biological unit now nestling at the base of his cortex, totally divorced from the control of his body, the machinery of his mind. Aware, perhaps, as if in a dream. Lost in a timeless limbo.
"He isn't dead," said Dumarest as the others moved towards him. "Think of him as a cup waiting to be filled." He moved again, this time towards Odo, the green syringe plunging into the idiot's flesh. A moment and it was done.
"Odo!" Vestaler looked at him, the limp body supported by Dumarest's arms. "I don't understand," he said blankly. "What has happened?"
"Odo is asleep," said Dumarest. "You must take good care of him. He can be fed, washed and kept warm, but he can do nothing for himself." He lowered the heavy body to the ground.
"And the cyber?"
Hsi looked at his hands. He turned them, peering, mouth open, slack in the skull-like contours of his face. His eyes were empty, vacuous, the blank windows of a deserted house. From his lips came a thin drone.
"Odo wants… give Odo… Odo good…"
The intelligence of the idiot now dominant in the body of the cyber. The transfer of ego which was the magic of the affinity twin. Dumarest handed him a scrap of dried fruit.
"What happened?" Usdon was baffled. "I saw-what happened?"
"They changed," said Vestaler. "The cyber became Odo. Is Odo. Earl!"
Dumarest caught the note of fear, recognized its cause.
"You have nothing to worry about," he said. "Hsi's body is alive and well. No signal will be sent and no retribution turned against you. I'll take him with me when I leave in his raft. The body of the acolyte will be dumped in the wilderness."
Dumped, but his robe retained. Wearing it Dumarest would accompany the apparent cyber to the city, take passage on a vessel, leave the pathetic creature on some far world. He would be found, taken care of-the Cyclan looked after its own.
But before that happened Dumarest would have vanished, moved on, losing himself in the infinity of space.
Vestaler said, dully, "And the Eye? The Eye of the Past? I suppose all you said about that was just a lie in order to escape."
"No," said Dumarest. "It wasn't wholly a lie."
* * * * *
He had left the idol in his room, going to fetch it, returning with it in his hand to the Alphanian Chamber where the others waited. For a long moment Dumarest looked at the designs, the scraps of various materials in the cases, the books. Then he faced the others where they stood before the altar, the idol in his hand.
"Leon carried this," he explained. "A hobby, perhaps, but I never saw him work on it. The material is the same as was used by the woman potter for whom he worked in the city. A convenient substance to cover something he might have wanted to hide. Something he could have stolen."
"The Eye?" Vestaler's hand trembled as he touched the crude depiction. "In there?"
For answer Dumarest lifted it, smashed it hard against the stone floor. It shattered, lumps splitting apart, fragments flying, a heap of granules dull in the yellow light. Among them, something gleamed.
"The Eye!" Vestaler's voice was a shout of joy. "The Eye of the Past!"
It was small, round, a lens of crystal filled with a blur of formless designs, flecks of color blended in wild profusion. Vestaler snatched it up, wiped it clean, tears of thankfulness running over his withered cheeks.
The Eye returned! Once again in its rightful place! The impossible achieved! His mind swam with a giddy relief.
"What is it?" said Dumarest. "What is it for?"
The man had a right to know-without him the ache would still exist, the hurt remain. Fate must have directed him, the ancient ones striving in their immutable fashion, How else to explain it?
Usdon said, quietly, "Phal, he has earned the right."