"No." Kooga added, "I didn't study them. The data was for you alone."
A lie and Zuber knew it; no physician would have failed to check for possible deterioration in the cerebrum and no one of Kooga's experience would have failed to note the unusual pattern. Anger and fear had betrayed him and had marked the need to terminate his existence.
"I understand." Zuber nodded as if satisfied. "Just one other thing while we are on the subject and then you will be left in peace. To enjoy your reward," he added. "One you have richly deserved."
"Thank you. The point?"
"There was a slight commotion; a woman insisted on entering Cyber Avro's room. The receptionist recorded the incident. She was not alone."
"No."
"The details?"
A matter he had overlooked and Kooga cursed his forgetfulness. The receptionist had been too efficient-or had the power of the Cyclan cast its shadow before it? How many eyes had been watching him? Checking everything he had done?
"The woman was Mirza Annette Karroum," he said. "The man was Vaclav, Chief of the Guardians. They, that is she, wanted to question Cyber Avro. Naturally I didn't allow it."
"Question?"
"Yes, I don't know the details. I ordered them from the room immediately."
"One of the Karroum?"
"Yes, I-" Kooga hesitated. The cyber would know of the power held by the Karroum and the other big Families. On worlds such as Lychen such were not ordered as if they were inferiors. "She was stubborn," he admitted. "I had to explain how useless it was to talk to the patient, to get any response. Once she understood that she left."
"Thank you." Zuber rose, extending his hand, the broad ring on his finger gleaming in the light. "I think that will be all."
* * *
The administrator was a woman, no longer young, her hair long, graying, dressed in a bun which accentuated the sharpness of her features. A face now marked with the stamp of anxiety.
"I don't understand it," she said. "Doctor Kooga seemed perfectly well when I last saw him. A little tired, perhaps, but that's all. Then, an hour later when I had to go to his room to ask his decision on a matter, he was dead. Naturally I sent for you immediately."
"Why?" Vaclav met her eyes. "Did you suspect a crime?"
The answer lay in the room where Kooga lay sprawled on the floor, one hand extended to where the carpet had been drawn back. Vaclav knelt beside him, sniffing at the pale lips, lifting the lids to examine the glazed eyes. No scent of familiar poisons or traces of familiar drugs but that meant nothing. The room itself told him more: the furnishings were ripped, paintings thrown down from their hangings, the entire place looked as if it had been searched.
By whom?
Vaclav looked at Kooga's extended hand. It lay clenched and, as he forced open the fingers, he found a scrap of paper clutched in them. A fragment from a larger piece which bore the tracery of lines. The paper itself was from a photocopying machine.
The administrator waited outside. To her Vaclav said, "Whom did the doctor see this morning? Cyber Zuber? Anyone else, I mean after his interview with Zuber? No? I see. What time did you see him? The exact time, please. Good. And it was an hour later you called on him?"
"About that, yes."
"And found him like this? Has he been touched? No? Good. That will be all."
"But-" She looked past Vaclav at the body sprawled on the floor.
"Leave him for now." Vaclav stepped back into the room. "I'll let you know when he can be removed."
A man dead, trying to reach for something, but why? The room gave the answer, one Vaclav sensed with his years of experience and, standing, looking around, he read the message it conveyed. Kooga, tired, seeking his bed, entering the room and finding it bearing the marks of an obvious search. If he had hidden anything in it he would have gone immediately to it-and those who had set the trap would have what they wanted.
Vaclav stepped again toward the body. Kooga had died but he bore no sign of an obvious wound. Poison was the logical instrument but how had it been administered? As Vaclav looked at the drawn-back carpet, the reaching hand, he saw the minute spot of reddish brown on the pad of the palm. Something which could have been dirt or a fragment of dried blood.
Straightening he looked at the room. A recorder lay where it had been thrown, tapes scattered around it. He examined them, remembering the one Kooga had played, the gained response of Avro with its whispered directions on where Dumarest could be found. Had he told the cyber of Dumarest? Was the tape still here?
He searched them, reading titles, halting as he found one with a single word. Ardestum-an obvious anagram. He played it, listening again to the whispering voice, then rewound it to hit the erase. If Zuber had killed Kooga to get his hidden papers he wouldn't get this. A small revenge but better than none-the power of the Cyclan would give the cyber immunity of punishment for his crime.
Outside, Vaclav threw the tape into a bin with items waiting for incineration. An assistant collected it as he reached the end of the passage, making his way to Kooga's office. As he entered Zuber turned toward him from where he stood at the desk.
"Chief Vaclav. It is good to meet you. I assume you are here to investigate Doctor Kooga's demise. A regrettable loss. You knew him well?"
"No."
"But you had met him. With the Lady Mirza Annette Karroum. You were together in Cyber Avro's room. May I ask why?"
Vaclav said, curtly, "She was unhappy with my report on the death of the previous head of her House. She wanted confirmation from Kooga as to the cause."
"And chose the room of a sick man to conduct her investigation?"
"It happened that way. Naturally Kooga wasn't pleased."
"But he answered her?"
"He satisfied her, yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I've work to get on with."
"Of course," Zuber's hand appeared from the wide sleeve of his robe, the ring glowing on his finger. "I must not delay you. I have little time to spare either. We must be leaving soon."
On the ship in which they had arrived, taking Avro with them, his inert body wrapped in a cryogenic sac and frozen against the ravages of time. To be transshipped and sent to Cyclan Headquarters there to be wakened, tested, probed so as to gain every scrap of information from his body and mind. The direct order of Marie, Cyber Prime, who, like all of his kind, abhorred waste.
"I wish you a safe journey."
"Thank you, Chief." The ring glinted as Zuber moved his hand to touch Vaclav's own. "And I wish you success."
The desk was void of anything of value, the office the same and, back in his own, Vaclav sat brooding on what he had learned. Kooga dead, murdered for something he had possessed. Papers taken from where they had been hidden; copies of something the Cyclan wanted to remain a secret. The one Dumarest held? No, the tape hadn't been taken and so, obviously, Kooga hadn't mentioned it. And the questions Zuber had asked-why had he been so interested in who had been in Avro's room?
A pattern had to be present and Vaclav strove to find it, scowling as the communicator hummed, reaching out to hit the button, his hand freezing as he saw the tiny fleck on his skin.
Something which could have been dirt or a fragment of dried blood.
A match to the one he'd found on Kooga-and Kooga was dead. The communicator hummed again but he ignored it, thinking, remembering. Zuber and his ring and the way he had reached out to touch hands in a farewell gesture. One alien to his breed; cybers did not entertain emotional ceremony. An act, then, to get within range and Vaclav was no stranger to rings which were not as they seemed. A touch of anesthetic to numb the pain of the dart which penetrated the skin to instill its poison and the thing was done. A man dead but not knowing it, walking, talking, smiling even as the delayed action drug did its work.
How much time did he have?
Kooga had died within an hour after the administrator had seen him but he could have fallen minutes after reaching his room. How long before that had he met Zuber? A computation which carried a bleak answer-time was short and getting shorter.