“They will want to know where I got the blade.”
“After you slash me, I’ll grab you. During the struggle, you’ll drop the knife over the side of the tower. The Magi will never find it—and they won’t worry about it, because the fact of your insanity will be self-evident.”
“I see,” said Doug.
He took the blade. A greenish stain tinged the point. As he looked away from it, the double-image effect that held the man before him seemed to expand to affect the whole room. The walls became as transparent as thin gray smoke. Doug stared out… and out… into a white vastness where the Walker’s dark shadow lurked.
Then abruptly the room was again solid about him. Carefully he slid the knife up under the tight silver sleeve of the garment Anvra had given him.
“Good,” said Etam, dark eyes watching Doug out of the double-image. “As a lunatic, you’ll have to lose your wings. But I’ll do my best in testifying to sway the Magi into making the rest of it just confinement rather than slavery. Courage, old friend!”
He gripped Doug’s bulging double shoulder-joints firmly with his hands, then departed.
Only a few minutes passed before two black-clad Magi came for Doug. They led him to an elevator and rose with him to a large three-sided chamber. The fourth side was open to the elements.
Doug saw that the time was late afternoon. The weather was now nippingly chill. A cold wind blew freely into this tower room from its open side. But no one present seemed to notice. Beyond, the sky was cloudless and ice-bright. The sun slanted in at an angle that lit only the edge of the open side and left the rest of the room, by contrast, in deep shadow.
In this shadow, five of the Magi waited behind a massive table. Only the middle one—the thin Elector—was standing. Each of the five had a black scarf bound tightly around his head.
Along the wall opposite the open side of the room were other black-clad Magi but without the head scarves. Near the open side stood the clown-suited Cadda Noyer official Doug remembered and two others wearing the same livery. There also sat the small silver-suited figure of Anvra. Etam duRel lounged beside Jax duHorrel, both wearing the red livery and yellow lozenge of the Sorcerers.
The two Magi guards had Doug stand before the center of the table. The Elector’s cold face briefly examined him, then turned to the others.
“Nye duBohn, you were a witnessing Magus at the professional fight on which Kathang duLein wagered his life?”
A young-looking Magus moved to stand almost beside Doug.
“I was,” his tenor voice rang reedily. “The Magi in hearing may be sure I am aware of the rules. No transfer of soul from one body to another is permitted without a license issued by the Magi, and without Magus present to witness and record the transfer.”
“It was all in order?”
“As I recorded it. I examined the individual, this Kathang duLein, before the fight started and I was satisfied with his freely made contract. I remained with him until the spell was cast. And I sensed his soul depart for the body of the downed fighter.”
“And afterward?” The voice of the Elector was toneless.
“My attention was caught by the surprising survival and escape of the supposedly beaten fighter. When I finally turned back to the body of Kathang DuLein, it had already ceased breathing.”
“You examined the body?”
“I felt under the right armpit. There was no pulse.”
“May we have,” said the Elector, looking along the wall, “the second member of the Magi to have been involved with the identity of Kathang duLein.”
“But he wasn’t—” began Doug.
“The identity at issue will remain silent,” said the Elector.
A black-clad figure detached itself from the wall and walked toward Doug. Doug recognized the old man who had peered down at him after the fight near the catapult. In his slow bass voice, this witness gave his account of being called to the scene by bystanders. He had found the two Cadda Noyer conquered and Doug unconscious.
“Were you surprised to learn that the individual had defeated two bullies wearing wooden spurs?” asked the Elector.
“The individual was dressed and spurred as a professional fighter,” answered the witnessing Magus. “It was only when I was composing my report later that something struck me as odd. Why should an untrained entity, even in a trained body, win such an encounter?”
“I note here,” said the Elector, examining what to Doug seemed the bare tabletop, “your mention of that oddity in your report, together with a recommendation for investigation.”
“I did so recommend,” said the old Magus.
“And the Cadda Noyer rejected investigation,” said the Elector. “I see. You may stand back.”
There was a faint cough from the open side of the room. Glancing over, Doug saw that Etam had stepped back between the Magus on one side of him and Jax on the other, so that his double-imaged face was hidden from all but Doug. Sharply, Etam jerked his head in a signal to Doug to act.
“Very well,” said the Elector. “The Cadda Noyer may now state their claim upon this body.”
The sound of the Elector’s voice brought Doug’s eyes back to the table. The Cadda Noyer official was stepping forward.
“We have already submitted our claim to the Magi,” the Cadda Noyer said. “Together with a list of pertinent documents, such as the original request for permission to transfer the entity of Kathang duLein—a request made by Kathang duLein, himself, as is customary. But to review our position…”
The Cadda Noyer spoke on. Once more Doug’s eyes wandered to the blurred face of Etam. The man jerked his head again in imperative signal. His dark forehead gleamed slightly in the late sunlight. Before the table, the Cadda Noyer was elaborating on the claim of his Aerie to the body Doug inhabited.
“… The Magi,” he concluded, “cannot deny the Cadda Noyer use of a body which belongs to them.”
“That remains for this Hearing to determine,” coldly responded the Elector. “It is a fighter-slave body, with which the Cadda Noyer may ordinarily do as they will. But what is in doubt is the right of the Cadda Noyer to evict its current resident soul.”
“Kathang duLein gave up any right to his life when he bet and lost it on the fight,” cried the Cadda Noyer official.
“But the fighter—the body of the fighter he bet on—did not lose the fight,” said the Elector impassively. “Therefore Kathang did not lose, either.”
“Having already submitted freely to the spell, he had abandoned his body-right and life-right.
Technically, from that moment on he was a dead man.“
“He is a dead man!” cried Anvra desperately from the sidelines. “I saw his dead body, myself. Kathang duLein isn’t in the live body at this Hearing. Kathang is dead!”
“Alive,” growled the Cadda Noyer official. “But legally dead.”
“Silence!” The Elector paused. Then he turned slightly, and for the first time his eyes met Doug’s.
“Alive?” asked the Magus. “Or dead?”
“The Cadda Noyer,” Doug answered slowly, “honestly believe that Kathang is alive in this body I wear. Mistress Anvra Mons-Borroh honestly believes him dead. Both are wrong.”
Doug took one step back from the desk and turned so that he could see clearly past the figure of the Cadda Noyer official.
“One man knows the truth,” said Doug. “One man other than myself.”
He turned back to the table. Reaching into his sleeve he drew forth the knife, tossed it to the polished surface.
“I was given this by a visitor to my cell,” he said. “I believe that the tip is poisoned—so that even the smallest scratch would kill.”
The Elector and his flanking Magi stared at the knife. They did not touch it. The Elector raised his gaze but sat without a word, as if waiting for something to happen.
Doug and everyone else in the room now were watching Jax and Etam.
Out of the blur of superimposed faces, Etam’s dark forehea
d seemed to shine strangely. Doug attributed that to the beads of sweat he could see on the Sorcerer’s brow.
Doug spoke up loudly in the silent room.
“The one who came to me,” he said, “knew I was not Kathang, that I was from the Damned World. So he didn’t think I would understand the concept of self-obligation. But I do. I know that while some persons may lose their self-obligation entirely, there are others who never completely lose it, no matter how they try. In the end—”
Etam exploded into movement. His left elbow jerked back into the midriff of the guard beside him. He snatched the black cone from the guard’s belt.
“Stop!” he shouted, waving the weapon threateningly.
Doug took one step toward him. “I’ll take that gun,” he said.
“Stand back.” The voice from the small, dark blurred figure with its one crippled wing was high and cracking. Etam turned and shouted at them all, “I cheated my Aerie. I lied to my Brotherhood. But I will not dishonor the name of duLein. For I am Kathang! Kathang duLein! The man from the Damned World tells the truth.”
With a choking sound, he threw the weapon to the floor and flung himself over the room’s open edge into emptiness.
Doug hurled himself between the bodies of Jax duHorrel and the guard, stopped at the edge to gaze down. Below he saw Kathang-Etam spinning with one wing outstretched, falling without any effort to save himself.
“This Hearing will resume,” said the Elector tonelessly.
Doug was suddenly aware of Anvra standing beside him at the open side of the room. They both stared downward at the distant dark slit of a street in which the body of Etam duRel had disappeared from sight.
“He did well at the last, though,” she whispered to Doug. “He made his end a good one…”
“It now becomes necessary,” the ranking Elector was saying coldly, “to inquire more fully into the situation.”
His steady eyes swung to the Cadda Noyer official, who had taken up a position beside Jax duHorrel. The Cadda Noyer’s face had gone pale.
“The Cadda Noyer,” he said, “in self-obligation, consider that their Brotherhood may be responsible for an indiscretion by some of its members. We are prepared to admit that there now seems a possibility that the man whose body has just died— Etam duRel—may have approached some of our Brotherhood with a scheme to build an unregistered Portal to the Damned World.”
“For what purpose?” asked the Elector.
The Cadda Noyer hesitated. His face regained color, hardened.
“I am no Sorcerer,” he said. He glanced at Jax duHorrel. “Perhaps the Aerie Master would be willing to venture a theoretical explanation…”
“Not I,” said Jax. “The Brotherhood of Sorcerers has been doubly shamed here today.” He looked at Doug. “Also we owe gratitude to this being from the Damned World.” He added in a different tone, “Sir, what do we call you rightly?”
“Doug,” said Doug. “Or Doug duDamned World, if you prefer.”
“Perhaps,” said Jax, “you would like to be the one to explain what Etam and Kathang were up to.”
“Only Etam—originally,” said Doug, and glanced at the Cadda Noyer official.
“Sir,” said the Cadda Noyer swiftly, “we also owe you gratitude. We offer you whatever recompense is judged proper.”
The thin face of the Elector changed slightly, as if a smile were struggling to emerge.
“Then it seems beyond our duty to demand further explanation in this case,” he said. “So if all parties are satisfied and provided guarantees are made…”
He glanced from Doug to the Cadda Noyer.
“The Magi,” said the Cadda Noyer official stiffly, “have the word of the Cadda Noyer, upon their self-obligation as a Brotherhood Aerie, that any illegal machinery on their premises shall be destroyed.”
“Then this Hearing is dissolved,” said the Elector.
The room immediately began to empty. The Cadda Noyer official and his companions were already launching themselves into the air, away from the tower.
V
Doug found himself standing with Anvra at his side, facing Jax duHorrel and the gaunt Elector.
“Doug duDamned,” said the Magus, “unofficially, we would be grateful to hear your further explanation of this matter.”
Doug nodded. “Sure. But tell me something first. I gather a Magus can sense when an exchange of souls between a couple of bodies is taking place, even if afterward there’s no way to detect the change. But can he sense whether more than one pair are exchanging if all the exchanges take place at the same moment?”
“Why…” The Elector hesitated. Then he frowned. “No!”
“That’s what I thought,” said Doug. “You see, Etam set up a portal system for the Cadda Noyer so that while a legal transfer was going on, an illegal transfer could let a third party shift to another body undetected. The explanation is a little complicated. Have you got something I can write on?”
The Elector touched the table behind him. A drawer opened to reveal something like a classroom pointer, two feet long, narrowing from a butt perhaps an inch thick to a pencil-like tip. He picked it up and traced with the tip on the table surface. Where the tip passed, a glowing yellow line appeared.
He reversed the pointer and passed the butt end over the line, erasing it. Then he passed the pointer to Doug.
“Thanks.” Doug stepped to the table. “Look. This is the transfer as it was legally planned to be, between Kathang and the fighter.”
“The crossed-out box,” he said, “represents a body scheduled to be dead shortly after exchange is accomplished. Now, on that pattern Etam planned to superimpose secretly the illegal transfer of two other identities, of which one was to be a dying man—dying, so that he could be brought body and all through the Portal. And Etam himself was to be the other. Etam had already discovered on my world a place where a man would be dying at the required instant. He set up a transfer pattern timed to coincide with the legal transfer between Kathang and the fighter, like this…”
“But you’ve got Kathang marked to end up in a dead body,” protested Jax. “He wouldn’t have agreed to that if he were in the plot with Etam!”
“Kathang was not in the plot. All he knew until the moment of his transfer was that Etam had been stealing equipment parts from the Sorcerers’ laboratory. He said nothing about it because he considered Etam his friend. Actually, Etam was afraid that sooner or later Kathang would realize that Etam had built an illegal Portal. The fight must have been rigged, too. Etam wouldn’t want to gamble his whole scheme on the chance Kathang’s fighter might win.”
“But Kathang ended up in Etam’s body, not the other way around,” said Anvra.
Doug smiled briefly at her.
“Yes,” he said. “But it wasn’t until Kathang found himself in the room under the Cadda Noyer tower with the illegal Portal that he figured out what had happened. Seeing a chance to escape all the troubles he had brought on himself as Kathang, he decided to sit tight in Etam’s body and say nothing. He knew there was no way now to prove he wasn’t Etam.”
“But the fighter, alive in Etam’s body—” began Jax.
“Etam must have had plans to dispose of him, too,” said Doug. “Plans the Cadda Noyer must have agreed to, privately. There must have been a lot at stake. I assume there were certain individuals to whom they could have sold illegal body transfers for a good price.”
“Shamefully, yes,” said the Elector. “Such people exist in every generation—in spite of all watchfulness.”
“Anyway,” put in Jax, eyeing Doug curiously, “it didn’t work out the way Etam planned it. Why not?”
“Because of me,” said Doug. “You see, I wasn’t really dying when Etam pulled me through the Portal. For certain special reasons I was being poisoned by gas—but I’d taken measures to save myself. This brought me close enough to death for Etam to pull me into this world—but by the time he had transferred my identity into the body of the fighter, I w
as already reviving. That’s what tangled things up.”
He pointed to the second pattern he had drawn on the table.
“I was supposed to transfer identities with Kathang,” said Doug. “And Kathang’s identity, finding himself in my dying body, would have no choice but to die also. Meanwhile, Etam’s healthy soul would have no trouble ousting my dying one from Kathang’s body. The fighter’s soul, leaving his own dying body behind, would find Etam’s healthy body open for occupancy. That was the plan. But here’s what actually happened.”
He drew a third pattern on the table:
“You see, by the time my reviving soul reached Kathang’s body, it was already stronger than Kathang’s,” Doug said. “Consequently, I ousted him. But I occupied his body just in time to hear the spell for Kathang to change bodies with the fighter. The fighter’s soul had already left his body—so I ended up there, instead.”
He paused, looking in turn into each of the three faces watching him.
“You know the rest of it,” he went on. “I won the fight and the body survived. The Cadda Noyer attendants, seeing the fighter still alive, apparently thought the whole scheme had misfired. They broke Kathang’s neck under cover of the general confusion—to keep him from testifying to what had been tried. But by that time Etam had already occupied Kathang’s body. So it was Etam who died.
“Meanwhile Kathang, ousted by the spell and my own stronger identity, moved instinctively into the nearest healthy but unoccupied body. That was Etam’s body, back in the Cadda Noyer underground lab. Evidently Kathang occupied it just before the fighter tried to, and the fighter, dispossessed, was left with no place else to go but my own original body—now actually and irreversibly dying from shock and identity-abandonment. Instinctively he entered my dying body, and died with it.”
“But how could you know it was Kathang in Etam’s body?” demanded Jax. “And what made you so sure he’d admit it?”
“I relied on his sense of self-obligation,” Doug told the big Aerie Master. “It almost drove him to admit who he was earlier, after he saw me in his body in Anvra’s Aerie. Then, just before the hearing, he tried to trick me into killing him so that his shame would be buried with him. I knew then his self-obligation could be made to drive him to acknowledge his name.”
The Last Dream Page 22