"Who knows what we may find?" Marek dropped the cards, and no longer mocking, looked from one to the other. "A safe the combination of which is unknown? A situation we cannot recognize? A world of mystery in which only special talents can find a path? Sufan has an artifact-have you seen it? A mass of distorted metal found on a wrecked vessel. A scrap of debris, some would think, but I can fit it into a pattern. As I helped to fit other items into a whole. You think he guides you to Balhadorha?" His finger thrust at where Jarv Nonach sat sniffing his pomander. "He takes us only where it is determined we should go."

"On a route you have plotted?" Usan Labria stared her disbelief. "To the Ghost World?"

"No, to Chamelard. First to Chamelard." Marek scooped up the cards. "And now, Earl, shall we play?"

* * *

Sufan Noyoka sat in his cabin, the desk before him heaped with papers, graphs bright with colored lines. He looked up as Dumarest entered the room, saying nothing as the door closed, only his eyes moving, darting from one point to another as if he were an animal trapped in a cage.

Dumarest said flatly, "It is time we talked."

"More than time, Earl, I agree, but I have been busy, as you know, and you have had your own duties. You have assessed the crew?"

"Men united by greed."

"True," admitted Sufan, "but how else to persuade men to risk their lives? The danger will come when their determination begins to fail. Then they must be urged to continue the search. And when we find Balhadorha there will be other dangers." He touched a paper, moved a graph, rested his hand on a star map. "You remember the artifact I showed you? Once it was the part of a machine, probably the power supply, and it could have been of incredible value. Those on the wrecked vessel must have found it and then what? Did each try to gain it for his own? Greed knows no bounds, Earl-a danger I early recognized. And what can two women and an old man do against the rest?"

"You forget Marek."

"Who could instigate the trouble. What do you think of him?"

"I think he is a man in love with death," said Dumarest. "Only when dead will he know the final mystery of life. Where did you find him?"

"Does it matter? I needed him and so he is with us. As I needed you, Earl. The reason must be obvious."

A part, but not the whole. Men faced with sudden wealth could become intoxicated at a prospect of fortune and forget elementary precautions. A fact Dumarest had recognized, but he sensed there must be more.

"Why are we calling at Chamelard?"

"You know?"

"Marek announced it."

"Well, it is no secret." Sufan shrugged, a gesture which minimized the importance of the event. "I would have told you long before we landed. An essential part of the plan, Earl. Our number is not yet complete. There is another we have to collect."

"A man?"

"A woman."

"And the cargo of Chelach meat?"

"To buy her."

Sufan rose and stepped to where a container filled with a murky liquid stood on a small table beside the cot. Touching its base, he activated the device and watched as a pale luminescence grew within, swirls of color which gained strength to take on a vaguely amorphous shape, delicate membranes moving with slow grace in a sea of divergent hues.

Without turning he said, "To buy her. Earl. Money would have been simpler but my funds are exhausted. My herd, too, now that I have turned it into meat. Unless we find Balhadorha I am ruined."

A doubt, the first he had expressed, and Dumarest was conscious of the man's tension, the strain barely controlled, masked by his apparent interest in the luminous toy. As it glowed still brighter Dumarest leaned forward and switched it off. Even though never still the man's eyes could reveal hidden intent.

"Is Chamelard a slave world?"

"No, but the woman is special, a product of the Schell-Peng Laboratories. She has been trained, her special attributes strengthened, skills honed and developed to a high degree over the years. We need her if we are to navigate the Hichen Cloud."

Then, as Dumarest made no comment, he said, "The essence of my plan, Earl,. If a few men and a ship could find Balhadorha, then why hasn't it been discovered before? The area around the Hichen Cloud is thick with worlds and traders are always on the search for a profit. Given time, it would have been found; instead it remains a legend. Why? A question I pondered for years and then had what must be the answer. Balhadorha is within the Cloud and the entire region is a mass of conflicting energies. In it normal instruments are distorted and true navigation impossible. You have been close to such regions, Earl, you know what happens."

Sensors at fault, readings turned into meaningless information, a ship twisted and torn, helpless to aim for safety, not knowing even where safety could be found. The generator would be overstrained, units fail, the Erhaft Field collapse. Once that happened, unless the vessel was crushed like an egg, it would drift helpless in a sea of destructive radiation.

Something the crew members would have known, and Dumarest wondered at their silence. Or perhaps, even now, they were ignorant of the true extent of the danger.

He said, "Does the captain know you intend to penetrate the Cloud?"

"Rae Acilus has my confidence."

"And the others? Do they think, as I did, that you merely intended to skirt the edges?"

"Does it matter?" Sufan was bland. "They have come too far to back out now."

A mistake-when the trouble began they would lose their hunger for riches, the need to survive would see to that. Then he remembered Usan Labria and her determination. She had nothing to lose. Neither did Pacula, who would take any chance to find her daughter. Marek? He would welcome the challenge.

It was enough to worry about himself. Once on Chamelard the expedition could go to hell without him.

Chapter Eight

It was a cold world, a frigid ball of ice circling a dying sun, the ruby light from the primary doing little more than to paint the snow and frost with deceptively warm radiance. The town was small, the houses huddled close, the field deserted aside from the Mayna. The few men in attendance were shapeless in thick garments, a rime of frost over the fabric covering their mouths.

A planet strange to Dumarest, but he knew at once it was not one on which to be stranded. And there were other complications: a man who stood watching without apparent reason as he and Sufan Noyoka left the vessel, another who followed, a third who moved quickly from the gate as if to relay a message.

Small things, but his life rested on trifles, the ability to spot as unusual pattern, to sense the presence of danger.

And a cyber had landed on Teralde.

The knowledge was a prickle which stimulated him to continual awareness. Dumarest never made the mistake of underestimating the Cyclan and knew too well the subtle ways in which the organization moved. The cyber could have learned from Avorot of his presence on Teralde. He would have searched, found nothing, used the power of his mind to determine the obvious. Sufan Noyoka had an association with Chamelard, and if the cyber had learned of it, already the Cyclan could be poised ready to strike.

The Schell-Peng Laboratories rested a mile from town, a long, low, rambling structure, the walls unbroken,, the roof steeply pitched. Inside it was warm with generated heat, the receptionist waiting as they opened the thick clothing they had worn for the journey.

"Sufan Noyoka? A moment." He turned to a file and busied himself with the contents. "A woman, you say?"

"Number XV2537. There was a special arrangement."

"Which would place it in the special file." The man moved to another cabinet. A purposeful delay or merely an accustomed lethargy? Dumarest turned and studied the area with apparent casualness. Aside from the receptionist they were alone in the chamber except for a man engrossed in a book. A strange place in which to read if he were not waiting the result of an inquiry.