He sat in the salon of the vessel together with Mirza and the others; Toetzer, Lopakhin, Massak, Shior. Hilary was with Govinda, and Toyanna, together with Baglioni, was in the cabin holding the casket. Working at the major task of keeping Chenault alive while, in the salon, he planned the next steps of the operation.

"We shall land to the north," he said. "Opposite to the town. The section we want is marked by a cluster of spires resembling a pair of lifted hands. We must pass between them to a space shaped like a star."

Massak said, "And then?"

"Once we have reached it I'll give further instructions as to direction."

"No." Dumarest stepped into the room and up to the table at which the others sat. "That isn't good enough. So far we've followed you blind but no longer. I want to know why you think you can succeed when so many others have failed."

"Because I have information they lacked." Chenault rested his hand on the papers before him. "Ryzam is a mystery, a trap for the unwary, as events have proved. But one man found the solution to the problem and set it down in his journal. I have the relevant passages from it here. Lydo Agutter was an educated and knowledgeable man. I say 'was' but the chances are that he is still alive. He discovered the truth and set the details down in his book. I have them here."

Shior said, "The secret of eternal life?"

"Yes."

"If he found it why didn't he sell it?" Mirza snapped the question. "Such a secret would have made him rich enough to buy a world."

"Money." Toetzer echoed his disgust. "There are more things in the universe than the lust for wealth. If Agutter were intelligent he would know that."

Dumarest said, "How old is the information?"

"Two centuries at least." Chenault lifted a hand to silence any protest. "Time is meaningless when compared to immortality."

"True, but in a couple of hundred years things can change." Massak voiced the obvious. "Even if he did find the way how can we be certain it's still open?"

"We can't," admitted Chenault. "But knowing it exists gives us the vital clue as to the necessary direction. We follow his instructions, circumnavigate any obstacles, regain the given route as soon as possible. With the talents among us it should be simple."

Talents? Dumarest glanced around the table. Shior and Massak to provide protection with their fighting skills. Vosper, now asleep, and Lopakhin to maintain the surrogate. Toetzer? A sensitive of some kind as was Hilary to warn of danger or discern the correct direction. Toyanna to keep Chenault alive. Baglioni to act as personal bodyguard. Govinda a magnet he couldn't resist. Mirza a passenger and himself?

"You will be in charge, Earl." Chenault adjusted his papers. "When we land you will take over the expedition."

* * *

The cabin was small, dark, full of ghostly whispers; the transmitted sounds of activity vibrated through the stanchions, decks and hull. Noise no living ship in space was ever without and one which served as a background to his thoughts. Dumarest turned on the narrow bunk, turned again, feeling metal against his temple, the ghost-sound growing louder, fading as he moved away.

Rising he snapped on the lights and stood breathing deeply before stepping into the mist-shower. The thin spray cooled his flesh and, dressed, he left the cabin and walked down the passage outside. Doors flanked it; cabins holding sleeping figures, one more important than the rest. Dumarest tested it, found it locked, tapped and waited.

"Earl?" Pia Toyanna looked at him through the open door. "Is something wrong?"

"Maybe. Can we talk?" He saw the movement of her eyes and stared beyond her to where Chenault rested in his casket. "Inside? Can he hear us?"

"He's asleep." She stepped back, closing the door as he stepped into the cabin, locking it behind him. "What is it?"

Dumarest looked around before answering. The cabin was much larger than his own, one adapted for its special occupant, a clutter of medical apparatus lying close to the casket itself. A cot near it showed the recent imprint of a body, Toyanna's he guessed, and the puffiness of her eyes told of her fatigue and recently broken sleep.

"I'm sorry if I woke you but-"

"That doesn't matter." She was impatient. "Get to the point."

"Can Tama stand the journey?"

"What?"

"The expedition. He intends to accompany us. Personally, I mean, not just his surrogate." Dumarest glanced to where the machine rested in a chair, slumped a little, looking like a corpse. "Is he strong enough to survive?"

"Yes, if-" She broke off, confused, then said, with a rush, "He isn't as old as he looks. The muscular dystrophy has weakened him but his vital signs are strong and, aside from fatigue, he is in no worse condition than when we left Lychen."

Dumarest said, bluntly, "Don't misunderstand me. I don't give a damn whether he lives or dies but he has something he promised to give me. I want to be sure he has it."

"He has."

"Tell me how you are so sure."

"You gave him the names of stars and their distances from Earth. The names have changed but their relationship remains the same. A box enclosing Earth's primary. It is a simple matter of association to find that box and, when you do, the coordinates of Earth are revealed. And there are other clues which lead to the inescapable-"

"He knows," said Dumarest. "He knows how to find Earth. He knew it long before we met." He read the admission in her eyes. "Why, wanting to reach Earth as he does, didn't he go there?"

"Like this?" She glanced at the casket, the figure it contained. "Look at him. He can't stand. He can't walk. He needs help even to talk. He can barely open his eyes. Yes, he knows where Earth is to be found, but the discovery came too late. Can you appreciate the irony of it?" Her voice grew brittle with emotion. "At times the Gods are more than cruel. They give but demand too high a price. For him it was the culmination of a lifetime of searching-a dream he could never enjoy."

Not unless the secret of Ryzam could be found and he could be made young again and strong and able to walk with pride on the Mother World he considered Earth to be.

Dumarest slowed as he neared his cabin, hearing movement from within, slamming open the door to stare at the woman on his bunk.

"I've been waiting." Govinda threw back the scarlet mane of her hair. Framed by the tresses, her face held an aching familiarity. "I want to talk to you, Earl. Why am I to be left behind with the ship while that old bitch is going with you?"

"A matter of policy." Dumarest crossed the cabin to sit beside her, taking her hands in his own. "We can't always do everything together. Sometimes we have to part as we did that time on Chron. You remember-" He saw the puzzlement in her eyes and changed the subject. The way she appeared to him was familiar as if time itself had folded back on itself, but the memories they shared were limited to recent events. "Mirza insisted," he explained. "She may be old but she's tough and can handle herself."

"She wants to be with you."

"I'm glad of it." He softened the admission with a smile. "While she's with me I'll have no fear of the ship leaving us stranded. And, if you're with the ship, I'll have no fear of losing you, my darling." His hand reached out to touch her hair, her cheek, the smooth line of her throat. "Don't you know how much I care for you?"

"Show me!"

A demand he couldn't refuse and for a time the cabin became a palace filled with wondrous delights and the murmurs of their passion added strength to the ghost-sounds roving the vessel.

"Earl!" Her hand was the warm caress of a kitten. "I love you, my darling. Always remember that I love you."