by E. C. Tubb
"The game?"
Dumarest said, "We fight on neutral ground. The winner is obeyed."
"Fight? Really fight?" A hand lifted to place a thumb within the carmined mouth. "Like men fight with women before they make love? Will we make love again, Earl? Like we did before?"
"The game, Iduna."
"I like it. A personal challenge. Yes, I like it. But we should balance the odds because it wouldn't be fair for me to face you. I'm too small and too light and far too weak. And the wager? What shall we decide."
"The winner to be obeyed."
"I know. You said that. But obeyed in what? In all things, Earl? In all things?"
"Yes."
"And I may use a champion?" Her laughter rose as he nodded. "Very well then, Earl. He is behind you. Begin!"
Dumarest spun-and looked at himself.
Facing him was a man who wore gray, who stooped to lift the knife from his boot, who attacked with sudden, blinding speed, the blade whining as it ripped through the air, the tip slicing a long gash in the breast of his tunic.
Dumarest sprang back, his own blade lifting, steel clashing as the weapons met, to part, to reflect a glitter of light as they joined again with the sound of chiming cymbals.
A moment in which muscle strained against muscle and face looked at face eye to eye. A hard face and hard eyes and a mouth savagely cruel in its determination to kill. His face and yet not exactly so. There were minor differences: the finer arch to brows, the lines less deeply scored, the nostrils less flared. Small touches which added to a gentler type of masculine attractiveness as judged by a certain kind of woman. One unaccustomed to the harsh realities of an unprotected existence.
Not himself then but a copy and Dumarest could guess why. A replacement to fill the gap he had made by leaving the castle. A doll modeled on her need to be always kind, always obedient, always the attentive lover and now the protective champion.
A facsimile which would kill if he gave it the chance.
The blades parted as Dumarest swung wide his own, backing as he did so and feeling the bulk of the parapet pressing against him as the stone halted his progress. A barrier along which he slid as again the other attacked, dodging to attack in turn, seeing his blade touch a cheek and create a rill of blood.
"First blood, Iduna! I've won!"
"We didn't decide that, Earl. You fight until one yields."
And the surrogate would never yield.
He attacked again, the face cold, hard, intent on plunging the knife home in soft and yielding flesh. A glitter and the point raked up over the stomach, the edge grating on protective mesh. Dumarest flung back his head as the blade lifted toward his face, saw the glint of steel and struck back at the body before him. A cut which opened plastic and revealed the same mesh he wore himself.
"You're equally matched, Earl!" Iduna, watching, smiled her delight. "But you can't both win."
And, if he lost?
Dumarest dismissed the thought as he faced his opponent. Even to think of losing was to give the other an advantage, for a man dwelling on the possibility of defeat robs himself of that much concentration on victory. And he ignored the likeness to himself. He was not fighting a brother and he was not fighting himself. He was only fighting a man who looked as he did and one who did not fight as well.
Iduna had done her best but it was not good enough.
Dumarest turned, pivoting on a heel, feeling air brush his cheek as, again, the man aimed at his face. A stupidity, the target was too small and contained too much bone and a cut could do little harm unless it hit the eyes. As the blade threw light into his eyes he slashed upward, drawing back the blade as it hit, the edge catching the wrist and biting deep into the naked flesh. Maimed, the man dropped the knife and backed, his face now taut with fear.
"Shamarre!"
Dumarest heard the cry as he stepped in for the kill seeing the beast at the woman's side launch itself toward him. A creature twice the weight of a man with sharp claws on all four paws and fangs which could crush bone and sever a limb. Dropping, he rolled, felt the jar as the animal landed, slashed out as it struck at his face.
Blood dripped from the wounded paw and the beast snarled, foul breath gusting from gaping jaws, the lash of the tail a club which pounded Dumarest's arm. A blow followed by another as a boot slammed into his ribs. A boot which lifted to grind a heel into his face.
Dumarest dropped the knife as it descended, catching the foot in both hands, twisting as he rose to send his opponent hurtling over the battlements to fall screaming to the moat below. The beast sprang before he could recover the knife, claws ripping at arm and side, the impact knocking him over to sprawl flat on his back. As the animal sprang again Dumarest lifted both legs, feet close together, knees bent, kicking out with the full force of back and thighs as the creature came within range. Blood dappled the muzzle and before the half-stunned creature could recover Dumarest was on his feet, knife in hand and body tense.
"Iduna-"
"Keep fighting, Earl. My champion wasn't specified."
A cheat-but why was he surprised? He could never win and even if he did she would not agree to the bargain. A hope lost and a new danger to face.
Air blasted as wings drummed and this time when the creature sprang it hovered, striking, filling the air with razor claws and stabbing fangs, claws which ripped at head and face and shoulders as the fangs snapped at arm and side, sinking in, lifting even as Dumarest plunged home the knife, twisting it so as to release a fountain of blood from the laboring heart.
But, dying, the creature held on.
Dumarest lifted his legs and kicked as the edge of the battlements came close. He felt them brush past beneath him as the winged creature bore him from the castle. To carry him far to one side where rocks studded the ground like a nest of broken teeth.
To drop him where they waited.
"His eyes!" Gustav's voice was sharp. "Look at his eyes!"
They were moving beneath the closed lids in the rapid eye movements which told of dreams. A technician stared then turned to check a bank of dials. Another engaged the waiting machine and the banked pens began tracing their patterns on the rolling paper.
"Well?" Kathryn was impatient. "What does all this mean?"
"He's waking up!" Gustav fought to control his voice. "Don't you see? Dumarest is waking up!"
He was triumphant but he had reason for his emotion. It had been a long, tense hour with the technicians urging Kathryn to let them begin and she wavering between her decision and natural impatience. Twice he'd had to remind her of the value of a Matriarch's word, each time busying himself with make-work, acting with assumed confidence as he'd played with the waiting instruments, giving her a reason for delay until a new "setting" had been tested. A pretense the technicians had noticed but had thought better to ignore.
"Waking?" Kathryn glanced at a technician. "Is that so?"
"There is no evidence to support the contention." The woman was thin-faced and with a manner radiating hostility to all who dared to question her professional capability. "True, there are signs of REM but-" She saw Kathryn's expression and hastily explained. "REM, my lady, rapid eye movements, are a sure sign of a dreaming person. However it does not follow that a dreaming person is one about to wake."
Gustav said acidly, "Did the others display similar symptoms?"
"I'm not sure. I could check. My own work lay in calibrating blood-sugar levels."
"Don't bother to check," said Gustav. "I can tell you the answer. No REM were noted in any other volunteer. When and if they woke it was without that preliminary symptom. Kathryn! Don't you understand what this could mean?"
Success!
It could be all summed up in that one word. A man had entered the Tau and was returning and-she hardly dared to hope, Iduna could be returning with him. But why didn't he waken? What was keeping him so long?
Gustav caught her arm as she extended it to touch Dumarest's cheek.
"No."
"There is a better way." His own arm reached to rest, the palm over the lips, the thumb and forefinger nipped to close the nostrils. "A trick a mercenary taught me years ago. It wakes a man up and keeps him silent as it does so. There you see?"
Dumarest had opened his eyes.
For a long moment Katbryn stared into them, wondering if again she would see the horrible vacuity she had seen so often before. The telltale sign of an empty brain. Of an idiot returned to once again blast her hopes.
"Earl!" Gustav was at her side, his tone urgent. "Come back, Earl! Come back!"
Back from a dream in which he had tumbled through air to crash on waiting rocks. But it had been no dream and the rocks and the impact had been real. As real as any rocks could ever be-and the death had been as genuine.
"Earl?" Gustav was staring at him, the Matriarch at his side. She looked paler than Dumarest remembered, older, her eyes containing a bruised hurt. She said quickly before Gustav could speak again, "Did you see her? Iduna, did you meet?"
He saw the smile irradiate her face as he nodded.
"And?"
"She sends you her regards, my lady." Then, adding to the lie, "Her regards and her fondest love and affection for you both."
Chapter Twelve
"You met," said Kathryn. "You actually saw her and talked to her and played with her?" Her voice held an aching envy. "Tamiras, you hear that?"
"I hear it." The man selected a fruit from the bowl before him and carefully removed the rind. "I hear it but that isn't to say I believe it."
"Tamiras!"
"I am a scientist and, as such, tend to be skeptical. If that is a fault then I am guilty." Juice ran from the sections he parted with deft fingers. Lifting one to his mouth he added, "And Dumarest has reason to please you."
"And reason to lie?"
She glanced at Dumarest where he sat at the table. He, the scientist, Gustav and herself were alone. The meal had been a good one, meats and wines and fine breads to put energy into his body and flesh on his bones. A celebration, Gustav had called it, a time for them to learn all he had discovered. But if Dumarest had lied… ?
He saw the tension of her hand where it rested beside her plate, the reflected light flash from gems as her fingers closed in an unconscious betrayal of her doubt and anger.
To Tamiras he said, flatly, "Are you calling me a liar?"
"A liar?" The man shrugged and ate another segment of fruit. "No, my friend, I do not, but false impressions can often seem real. Let us review the situation. You were forced to enter the Tau. Subconsciously you feared the penalty of failure because in all sentient life forms the need to survive is paramount. So you carried out your mission with complete success. Or you are convinced you did-you appreciate the difference?"
That and more. Dumarest glanced at the hand lying beside the plate, thin, blotched, but it held his life. If the Matriach doubted his sincerity a word would send him to execution. But how to erase the doubts Tamiras had sown?
He said, "I saw Iduna lying on her bed and that is all. You agree?"
"I don't understand what point you are trying to make."
"Is it so hard? I never saw her as a child. I wasn't even on this world., My only contact with her was when I was taken to see her."
"So?"
"So let us talk of her childhood. She had friends; a bear, a toad, a doll fashioned in the likeness of a clown. She had a room with papered walls and the paper bore a design of fish and shells. She held parties for her friends and used a service adorned with small flowers with blue petals and scarlet leaves." He heard the sharp inhalation of indrawn breath from where Kathryn sat. Without looking at her he added, "And she was fond of small, iced cakes."
"What child isn't?" Tamiras shrugged. "What you say proves nothing."
"All of it? The dolls? The room?"
"You could have picked that up from gossip. The guards-"
"Have never seen Iduna's old room." Kathryn was sharp in her interruption. Looking at Dumarest she said, "How do you know?"
"I saw it." Dumarest gestured at the table, the articles on its polished surface. "The room, the paper, the service, the dolls-all were as real as the things before us."
"And Iduna? You saw her? You saw her!"
"Yes, my lady."
"But could not pursuade her to return," said Tamiras dryly. "May I dare to ask why you failed?"
"She didn't want to."
"Didn't want to return? To her home? Her loving parents?"
"No."
"And you couldn't make her? A child?"
"A god!" Dumarest glanced at Gustav, spoke to the Matriarch. "That is what Iduna is now-the supreme ruler of her universe. A goddess, if you want to be precise, and who can force a goddess to do anything against her will? What she wants-is. Can you even begin to understand what that means? To have the world in which you live exactly to your liking. To have it populated by those who care for you. Who exist only because of you. To want for nothing. To have no fear. To have no pain, no tears, no sadness. To be free of regret. To be innocent of guilt."
"Heaven," whispered Gustav. "A place in which all that is supposed to be. Could she have found it?"
Kathryn was more direct. "Is she happy?"
"Yes, my lady."
"A child, alone-"
"With everything to live for," emphasized Dumarest. "With all the toys she could ever want. All the companions she could ever need. A girl as happy as anyone could ever be." He saw the glint of reflected light as the curved fingers relaxed and knew the immediate danger was past. "She is content, my lady-that I swear. There is no need for you to torment yourself with imagined terrors. No need for further tears."
But they were there just the same, dimming her eyes, pearls of relief which dampened her cheeks.
Gustav, watching, poured and passed fresh goblets of wine. An act designed to attract attention to himself, the new subject he broached; one of lesser emotional content. To Dumarest he said, "Tamiras has explained how the Tau must hold the mental energy-pattern of the ego but why did the others die or go insane?"
"Fear."
"Just that?"
"It was enough." Dumarest stared into his goblet and saw dim shapes reflected in the ruby surface. "We all contain the terrors we fear the most. The others entered the Tau expecting danger and found it. They anticipated horror and it waited for them; things of nightmare created by their own minds, spawned by their own imaginations. The battles they fought were with themselves and were impossible to win. So they were defeated. Their minds," he explained. "They lost their minds. Their egos, trapped in the Tau, lost all sense of direction or purpose."
"But not Iduna." Tamiras helped himself to another fruit. Like the juice it contained his tone held acid. "She, naturally, was immune."
"She was young."
"And?"
"Young," repeated Dumarest. "A child accustomed to illusion and make-believe. One to whom fantasy was a normal part of life as it is with every child. She could accept what drove others insane."
"As you could?" Juice dribbled from his fingers and Tamiras dabbled them in a bowl of scented water before drying them on a napkin. "I find it hard to accept you as a child."
"I became one. I thought as one and felt as one and so entered the Tau."
And became a god with his own universe and his own incredible power.
Candles had been set for decoration and Dumarest stared into a dancing flame seeing in the lambent glow the woman he had left, the love she had given him, the spite she had displayed. Had he really existed in her world or had she occupied his? Had the game of war sprung from his mind or hers? Was she even now ruling from her throne in her castle with the facsimile of himself she had created at her side? Had she ever really accepted him as being more than a figment of her imagination?
"Earl?" Gustav was looking at him from where he sat and Dumarest glanced away from the dancing flame. "The Tau," said Gustav when sure he had gained attention. "What
is it, Earl? Did you discover that?"
"For certain, no, but I think it must be a toy."
"What?"
"A toy-and a trap." Dumarest looked at Tamiras. "One used by a so-called friend to gain revenge. An expert in his field who knew exactly what he was doing."
"A trap?" Tamiras shook his head, outwardly calm, indifferent, as again he dipped his fingers into the scented water. "You talk like a fool. The thing is alien, that is obvious, but a trap? For whom?"
"For a child," said Dumarest, flatly. "The daughter of the woman you hate."
"Hate?" Tamiras's eyes darted to the woman, back to Dumarest. "Are you insane?"
"Earl-"
Gustav fell silent at Kathryn's gesture. "Iduna," she said.
"You're talking about Iduna. My daughter. My child. Tamiras-"
"The man lies! He is deranged. Crazed by his experiences. A man who claims to have talked with a ghost can hardly be given credence." He rose with an abrupt gesture, water streaming from his hands. "I refuse to listen to this nonsense! If I may be excused?"
"Remain in your place!" She looked at Dumarest as Tamiras, reluctantly, obeyed. As he settled in his chair she said, "Earl, he could be right when he says your brains have been addled but you have said too much not to say more. Explain!"
Cutlery rested on the table: sharp-edged steel used for cutting meat, fruit, vegetables; forks, thin knives, spoons with reflective bowls. Dumarest glanced at them, noting their position, the placement of hands, moving his own as he took nuts and held them one against the other in his palm.
"The background," he said. "Gustav is known as a collector of old things so what more simple than to bribe a captain to take him the Tau with an elaborate story of how it was found? But who would hold such a thing in secret for any length of time? Someone not resident on Esslin, perhaps, but who came to live here later. He would have studied it, learned something of its workings. Then, with it safely delivered, a word in a receptive ear and the rest was inevitable. Who was close enough to Iduna to have given her that word?"