"Awake. With food and rest she will be on her feet soon."
"Another female to grace the company. Well, any amusement would be welcome. Our captain is engrossed with his instruments and Noyoka keeps our navigator busy with plans and suggestions. A union I find suspicious. If two heads are better than one then should not three be better than two?"
"Your time will come later, Marek," said Pacula. "It doesn't take your genius to cross empty space."
"But to find the answer to a puzzle?" Marek smiled as she made no answer. It held a little genuine amusement. "Well, each to his own. Some to provide money in order to obtain the ship, others to run it, one to discover how time and opportunity can be merged to achieve the desired result. And you, Earl? What is your purpose?"
"Does he need one?" Pacula was sharp and Dumarest sensed she had no liking for the man. "You ask too many questions, Marek."
"How else to gain answers? For all things there is a reason and, knowing them, a pattern can be formed. You, for example, my dear. Why should your brother have thought you bound for Heidah? A lie compounded by Noyoka's hints and agreement. And why should a vessel have landed just before we left carrying a cyber?"
Dumarest said, "Are you sure of that?"
"Can anyone mistake the scarlet robe?" Marek was bland. "A routine visit perhaps, who can tell? The pieces of a puzzle or elements unessential to the pattern? Perhaps the cards will tell."
They made a sharp rapping as he tapped them on the table, shuffled, cut and slowly dealt. Pursing his lips he looked at the exposed card.
"The Lord of Fools. Symbolic, don't you think? On this ship all are fools. But who is the Lord, Earl? Who is the biggest? Can you tell me that?"
His voice was soft yet holding a note of irony as if he expected to be challenged. As if he hoped to be challenged.
Dumarest said, "If you think we are fools then why join us?"
"Because life itself is a game for fools. You doubt it? Consider, my friend, what is the essence of being? We are born, we live for a while, and then, inevitably, we die. Which means, surely, that the object of existence is to reach an end. Does it matter how soon that end is reached? If the object of a journey is to arrive at a destination then why linger on the way?"
Philosophical musings with which Dumarest had little patience. As he made no answer Pacula said, "Tell us."
"Students kneeling at the feet of a master-my friends, you surprise me. Is it so hard to venture an answer? For the fun of it, try."
"To enjoy the scenery," said Dumarest shortly. "To ease the path for those who follow."
"Which assumes that those who went before cared about us who come after. The facts are against you, my friend." Marek turned another card. "The Queen of Desire. A fit mate for the Lord of Fools. But to which of the women we carry does the card apply? You, Pacula? Or to the one who lies in her cabin engrossed in erotic dreams?"
"How can you say that!" Pacula radiated her anger. "Usan is old and-"
"Have the old no desires?" Marek, unruffled, fired the question. "Why else is she with us? But it seems I tread on delicate ground. Even so, let us ponder the matter. Usan Labria is, as you say, old, but I have seen older toss away their pride and dignity when the demands of the flesh grow too strong. Is she such a one? What do you say, Earl?"
"You had better change the subject."
"And if I do not?" For a moment their eyes met and Pacula felt a sudden tension, broken when, smiling, Marek shrugged and said, "Well, no matter. Earl, shall we play?"
"Later, perhaps."
"A diplomatic reply. Not a refusal, not a promise, simply meaningless words. Do I offend you?"
"No."
"And if I did, would you fight?"
Dumarest said coldly, "Such talk is stupid and you are not a stupid man. Why did you join us?"
"Because life is a game and it is my pleasure to win at games. Balhadorha is a puzzle, a challenge to be solved, and I mean to solve it. Are you answered?"
"For now, yes."
"And our captain. You have met Rae Acilus, what do you think about him? Is he the Lord of Fools?"
The captain, like his ship, was small, compact, neatly clean. A man with hooded eyes and thin lips, his hands alone instruments of emotion; the fingers twitching sometimes at rest, more often curled as if to make a fist. A taciturn man who had said little, accepting Dumarest after a searching glance of the eyes, having him fill the vacant place of steward.
"A case could be made for it," continued Marek, touching the card with a slender finger, light glowing from his ring. "Greed makes fools of us all and Acilus is no exception. He was ambitious and hoped for rapid gain. He took command of a ship carrying contract workers to a mining world. A slave ship in all but name and he saved on essential supplies. There was an accident, the hull was torn and-can you guess the rest?"
"Tell me."
Marek shrugged. "Not all could hope to survive. Our captain, faced with a decision, evicted seventy-three men and women. Naturally they had no suits. Sometimes, when asleep, he cries out about their eyes."
Truth or a facile lie? Dumarest remembered the man, his masked face, the way he had held himself, the hands. The story could be true, such things happened, but true or not it made little difference. The journey had started, they were on their way.
He said, "So he hopes to get rich and regain his self-respect. Is that what you are telling me?"
"You are not concerned? Our ship captained by a killer?"
"Is he a good captain?"
"One of the best, but is that your only interest?" Marek looked thoughtful. "It seems that you have something in common. Let us see what it could be." He touched the cards and held one poised in his fingers. "Your card, my friend. Which will it be?"
It fell to lie face upward, the design clear in the light That of the Knave of Swords.
* * *
Dumarest heard the knock and rose to open the door of his cabin, stepping back as Pacula Harada stepped inside. She was pale, her eyes huge in the oval of her face, the small lines of age making a barely perceptible mesh at their corners. Beneath the gown she wore her figure was smoothly lush, the breasts high, the hips wide. A mature woman less young than she looked, but now one distraught.
"Earl, I must talk to you."
"About what?"
"You. Marek. That card."
"It meant nothing."
"So you say, but how can I be sure? And to whom else can I turn? Sufan is busy and Usan asleep. I feel alone on this ship and vulnerable. I thought I could trust you, now I'm not so sure. Marek-"
"Can you trust him?"
"I don't know. He is brilliantly clever and, I think; a little insane. Perhaps we are all insane. My brother would have no hesitation in saying so. He thinks I am mad. That's why he gave me money to go to Heidah and have my mind treated to remove painful memories. He meant to be kind, but how can he understand? How can anyone?"
"Pacula, be calm."