A pact? The woman was ambitious and noted for her greed. As was Myra Lancing. A moment and he had passed on to study other facts, other possibilities. The screen of lights changed as he moved to a closer study of any other variables. The weed in the installation held by Chargel- would that affect the value of Lobel's holding? Would the man again come to another's rescue? A possibility to be negated and for long minutes Kalova searched for a way to combat the event should it threaten. Time which joined that already wasted.

Again the soft voice broke his concentration. "Maximus. Cyber Zao has arrived."

So soon? Kalova blinked as he turned his head from the dancing, hypnotic glow of the lights. Should he send the man away or yield and allow him to enter? To work alone or to ask for aid?

Alone, he decided. His would be the labor and his the reward all the more sweet for having been gained by his own skill. A sweetness strengthened by another's respect and regard.

"Maximus?"

"Have him enter."

He chose to ignore the man, concentrating again on the signals, assessing streaming facts and feeling himself expand with recaptured ability.

"My lord?" Zao stepped to where Kalova was sitting. "You know that the woman Fiona Velen has taken Dumarest to her house? The prediction that they are now lovers is of the order of ninety-nine percent."

"An advantage, Cyber." Kalova looked at the tall, robed figure. "One I recognized as soon as the information was received. Let her use him; once she tires of her new toy she will be eager to sell."

The assessment of an amateur but Zao made no comment.

"Not that I will wait," snapped Kalova. "My plans are being formulated at this very moment. Pressure on Reed and Traske so as to apply a pincer movement on the holdings adjacent to those held by Barracola. The result will be a flurry between Judd, Vanderburg and Prador. While attention is diverted I will snap up Bulem and force the woman to sell in order to protect her eastern holdings. A good plan, you agree?"

A complicated one and it would not work as intended- Zao could tell it at a glance. Kalova was too blinded by his anger toward the woman to be able to assess clearly the situation. He ignored factors which had to be taken into account in his determination to ruin Fiona Velen who had dared to defy him. A weakness and one he failed to recognize. The fact alone proclaimed his failing abilities as did his insistence on working alone.

Megalomania, now clearly obvious, a disease which threatened the stability of Sacaweena.

"Well?" Kalova was impatient. "Your comments?"

"I would advise a delay, my lord. Nothing is to be gained by undue haste."

"You talk of delay? What of the punishment you wish to inflict on Dumarest?"

"You confuse determination with revenge, my lord. Haste can lead to error and confusion. The delay I speak of is a matter of a few days. Time to wait until the situation is more favorable."

"You doubt my plan, is that it?"

"My lord-what if it should fail?"

"It will not fail!" Kalova's hands were quivering with rage, an anger reflected in his eyes, the savage compression of his lips. Abruptly he rose to pace the floor with quick, impatient strides. "I am the Maximus," he snapped. "I am that because I won the majority holding years ago. The skill which served me then is still with me. You have helped, Cyber, that I agree, but this is one thing I will do alone. That bitch will have cause to regret her contempt!"

"Even so, my lord, I-"

"No!" Kalova was curt in his interruption. "I will hear no more. Why did you want to see me?"

"A matter of your authorization on this order." Zao produced it. "For the. guards at the field," he explained. "Under no circumstances must Dumarest be permitted to leave this world without your approval."

An irksome formality and already he had given the instructions but the fierce pride of the Orres demanded such rituals. Each held complete autonomy over his holdings; to violate their rights would be to risk losing all.

"Here!" Kalova threw back the signed order. "Your man is trapped-I trust the Cyclan will be grateful for my cooperation."

Risan was busy when Zao returned to his quarters, a sheaf of papers strewn on the desk before him, the compact keyboard of a computer at his side. On a relay the dancing lights flashed and glowed with shifting color, each change bringing action, fingers tapping the keys, checking, moving again.

As he went to rise Zao said, "Continue."

He took a place behind the acolyte, watching, making his own assessments. For some it was necessary to isolate each facet, to evaluate it, to fit it into an overall pattern. One which changed under the impact of newly received data to form new probabilities. The computer Risan was using was an aid he must learn to do without; no man wishing to run should practice on crutches.

"Well?"

Risan leaned back as the lights steadied. "The situation shows the effect of the northern storms on three communes. They will all need importations of food and water and, if to regain viability, new deposits of soil. The mines in the Tanaya sector are hitting narrowing seams. The weed from three undersea farms has been spoiled and must be used as fertilizer instead of basic food."

"Three major influences," said Zao. "How many minor?" He nodded at the answer. "Fifteen-that is correct. Seven of them are relevant to the main situation and the others can be assessed at a low order of importance. Your summation?"

Risan said, "Master, events are moving toward a nexus in which it is possible the present Maximus could be seriously weakened. A cabal has formed against him and he underestimates the potential danger."

"Your recommendations?"

"It is not for me to recommend, master."

The correct answer; a cyber did not take sides, back causes, uphold falling rulers. To advise was the full extent of their duties-all else was for the Cyclan not for those employing their services. Risan was ready for the final step and he would propose it as soon as the present situation had been resolved. In the meantime he had reason to make his report.

"Private seal," he ordered. "Total seclusion."

As the acolyte bowed Zao made his way to his private room. It was stark, bleak in its Spartan simplicity, the cot the only item of relative luxury, but even so the soft mattress was for functional use not for personal comfort.

As the door closed behind him Zao activated the thick band he wore around his left wrist. Electronic emissions created a zone of privacy against any spying device and the locked door and acolyte protected him from physical intrusion. Twin safeguards used when communicating with Central Intelligence. The rest was a matter of training and adaptation.

Lying supine on the cot, Zao relaxed, closing his eyes and concentrating on the Samatachazi formulae. Gradually he lost the use of his senses; had he opened his eyes he would have been blind. Locked in the prison of his skull his brain ceased to be irritated by external stimuli. It became a thing of pure intellect, its reasoning awareness the only thread of continued existence. Only then did the engrafted Homochon elements become active. Rapport followed.

Zao expanded with the sense of it.

Each cyber had a different experience; for him it was as if he had gained insight into every corner of the universe. He saw it and knew it and was of it as it was of him. Nodes of light bright with the shine of naked truth, marching in ordered array to the edges of infinity and, at the center, the massed intelligences of those who had served and continued to serve the Cyclan.

There was no verbal communication, only a mental communion, quick, near-instantaneous, organic transmission against which the speed of light was a crawl. Faster than ultra-radio. Faster even than thought.