Gently, as she might have spoken to Linnell herself, Callina murmured, "Poor child! Don't be frightened!"
There was something else I had to do. Kathie must keep her immunity, and unawareness, of Darkovan forces. I knew one way to do that. Yet I hated doing it; I must make myself vulnerable. In effect, I meant to put a barrier around her mind; built into the barrier would be a sort of bypass circuit, so that any attempt to make telepathic contact with Kathie, or dominate her mind, 'would be immediately shunted from her open mind to my guarded one.
There was no sense in explaining to Kathie what I meant to do. While she clung to Callina, I reached out as gently as I could and made contact with her.
It was an instant of screaming pain in every nerve. Then it blanked out, and Kathie was sobbing convulsively. "What did you do? Oh, I felt you--but no, that's crazy. What are you?"
"Why couldn't you wait till she understood?" Callina demanded. But I stood looking at them somberly, without answering. I had done what I had to do, and I had done it now, because I wanted Kathie safely barriered before anyone saw her and guessed. And, above all, before Callina confronted her with Linnell. That moment of prevision last night had left me desperately uneasy. Why, of all the patterns in the world, why Linnell?
What happened when a pair of exact duplicates met? I couldn't remember ever hearing.
It hurt to see her cry; she was so like Linnell, and Linnell's tears had always upset me. Callina looked up at helplessly, trying to soothe the weeping girl. "You had better go away for now," she said, and as Kathie's sobs broke out afresh, "Go away! I'll handle this!"
I shrugged, suddenly angry. "As you- please," I said, and turned my back on them. Why couldn't she trust me?
And that moment, when I left Callina in anger, was the moment when I snapped the trap shut on us all.
* * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Once in every journey of Darkover around its sun, the Comyn, city folk, mountain lords, off-world consuls and ambassadors and Terrans from the Trade City, mingled together in carnival with a great outward show of cordiality. Centuries ago, this festival had merely brought Comyn and commoner together. Now it involved everyone of any importance on the planet; and the festival opened with the display of dancing in the great lower halls of the Comyn Castle.
Centuries of tradition made this a masked affair; in compliance with custom, I wore a narrow half-mask, but had made no further attempt at disguise. I stood at one end of the long hall, talking indifferently and listening with half an ear to a couple of youngsters in the Terran space service, and as soon as I decently could, I got away and stood staring out at the four miniature moons that had nearly floated into conjunction over the peak.-
Behind me the great hall blazed with colors and costumes that reflected every corner of Darkover and almost every known form of human or half-human life throughout the Terran Empire. Derik glittered in the golden robes of an Arturian sun-priest; Rafe Scott had assumed the mask, whip and clawed gloves of a kifirgh duelist.
In the corner reserved, by tradition, for young girls, Linnell's spangled mask was a travesty of disguise, and her eyes were glowing with happy consciousness of all the eyes on her. As comynara, she was known to everyone on Darkover; but she rarely saw anyone outside the narrow circle of her cousins and the few selected companions permitted to a girl of the Comyn hierarchy. Now, masked, she could speak to, or even dance with perfect strangers, and the excitement of it was almost too much for her.
Beside her, also masked, I recognized Kathie. I didn't know why she was here, but I saw no harm in it. She was safely barricaded by the bypass circuit I had built into her mind; and there was, probably, no better way of proving that she was not a prisoner, but an honored guest. From her resemblance to Linnell, they'd only think her some noblewoman of the Aillard clan.
Linnell laughed up at me as I joined them;
"Lew, I am teaching your cousin from Terra some of our dances! Imagine, she didn't know them."
My cousin. I suppose that was Callina's idea. Anyway, it explained her badly accented Darkovan. Kathie said gently, "I wasn't taught to dance, Linnell."
"Not taught to dance? But what did you learn, then?" Linnell asked incredulously. "Don't they dance on Terra, Lew?"
"Dancing," I said dryly, "is an integral part of all human cultures. It is a group activity passed down from the group movements of birds and anthropoids, and also a social channeling of mating behavior. Among such quasi-human races as the chieri it becomes an ecstatic behavior pattern akin to drunkenness. Men dance on Terra, on Megaera, on Vainwal, and in fact, from one end of the civilized Galaxy to the other, as far as I know. For further information, lectures on anthropology are given in the city; I'm not in the mood."
I turned to Kathie in what I hoped was properly cousinly fashion; "Suppose we do it instead?"
I added to Kathie, as we danced, "Of course you wouldn't know that dancing is a major study with children here. Linnell and 1 both learned as soon as we could walk. I had only the public instruction, but Linnell has been studying ever since." I glanced affectionately back at Linnell. "I went to a dance or two on Terra. Do you think our Darkovan ones are so different?"
I was studying the Terran girl rather closely. Why would a duplicate of Linnell have the qualities we needed for the work in hand? Kathie, I realized, had guts and brains and tact; it took them, to come here after the shock she had had, and play the part tacitly assigned to her. And Kathie had another rare quality. She seemed unconscious that my left arm, circling her waist, was unlike anyone else's. I've danced with girls on Terra. It's not common.
With seeming irrelevance, Kathie said, "How sweet Linnell is! It's as if she were really my twin; I loved her, the minute I saw her. But I'm afraid of Callina. It's not that she's unkind--no one could have been kinder! But she doesn't seem quite human. Please, let's not dance? On Terra I'm supposed to be a good dancer, but here I feel like a stumbling elephant."
"You probably weren't taught as intensively." That, to me, was the oddest thing about Terra--the casualness with which they regarded this one talent which distinguishes man from four-footed kind. Women who could not dance! How could they have true beauty?
I just happened to be watching the great central curtains when they parted and Callina Aillard entered the hall. And for me, the music stopped.
I have seen the black night of interstellar space flecked by single stars. Callina was like that, in a scrap torn from the midnight sky, her dark hair netted with pale constellations.
"How beautiful she is," Kathie whispered. "What does the dress represent? I've never seen one just like it."
"I don't know," I said. But I lied. I did not know why any girl on the eve of her marriage--even an unwilling marriage--should assume the traditional costume of la damnee; Naotalba, daughter of doom, bride of the daemon Zandru. What would happen when Beltran caught the significance of the costume? A more direct insult would have been hard to devise--unless she had come in the dress of the public hangman!
I excused myself quickly from Kathie and went toward Callina. She had agreed to the wishes of the Comyn; she had no right to embarrass her family like this, at such a late date.
But by the time I reached her, she was already getting that lecture from old Hastur; I caught the tail of it;
"Behaving like a naughty, willful child!"
"Grandfather," said Callina, in that quiet, controlled voice, "I will neither look nor act a lie. This dress pleases me. It is perfectly suited to the way I have been treated by the Comyn all my life." Her laugh was musical and unexpectedly bitter. "Beltran of Aldaran would endure more insults than this--for laran rights in council! You will see." She turned away from the old man.
"Dance with me, Lew?"
It was no request but a command; as such I obeyed, but I was upset and didn't care if she knew it. It was shameful, to spoil Linnell's first dance like this!
"I am sorry about Linnell," Callina said. "But the dress pleases my mood. And it is becoming, is it
not?"
It was. "You're too damned beautiful," I said hoarsely. "Callina, Callina, you're not going through with this--this crazy farce! I drew her into a recess and bent to kiss her, savagely crushing my mouth on hers. For a moment she was passive, startled; then went rigid, bending back and pushing me frantically away. "No!! Don't!"
I let my arms drop and stood looking at her, slow fury heating my face. "That's not the way you acted last night!"
She was almost weeping. "Can't you spare me this?"
"Did you ever think there were things you might have spared me? Farewell, Callina comynara; I wish Beltran joy of his bride." I felt her catch at my sleeve, but I shook her off and strode away.
I skirted the floor, grimly quiet. A nagging unease, half telepathic, beat on me. Aldaran was dancing with Callina now; viciously I hoped he'd try to kiss her. Lerrys, Dyan? They were in costume, unrecognizable. Half the Terran colony could be here, too, and I'd never know.
Rare Scott was chatting with Derik in a corner; Derik looked flushed, and his voice, when he turned and greeted me, was thick and unsteady. "Eve'n, Lew."
"Derik, have you seen Regis Hastur? What's his costume?"
"Do' know," Derik said thickly. "I'm Derik, that's all I know. Have 'nough trouble rememberin' that. You. try it some time."
"A fine spectacle," I muttered. "Derik, I wish you would remember who you are! Get out and sober up, won't you? So you realize what a show you are giving the Terrans?"
"I think--forget y'self," he mumbled. "Not your affair wha' I do--ain' drunk anyhow."
"Linnell should be very proud of you!" I snapped.
"Li'l girl's mad at me." He forgot his anger and spoke in a tone of intimate self-pity. "Won't even dansh--"
"Who would?" I muttered, standing on both feet so I would not kick him. I resolved to hunt up Hastur again; he had authority I didn't, and influence with Derik. It was bad enough to have a Regency in such times. But when the heir presumptive makes a public idiot of himself before half a planet!
I scanned the riot of costumes, looking for Hastur. One in particular caught my eye; I had seen such harlequins in old books on Terra. Parti-colored, a lean beaked cap over a masked face, gaunt and somehow horrible. Not in itself, for the costume was only grotesque, but there was a sort of atmosphere, the man himself--I scowled, angry at myself. Was I imagining things already?"
"No. I don't like him either," said Regis quietly at my side. "And I don't like the atmosphere of this room--or this night." He paused. "I went to grandfather today, and demanded form."
I gripped his hand, without a word. Every Comyn comes to that, soon or late.
"Things are different," he said slowly. "Maybe I'm different. I know what the Hastur Gift is, and why it's recessive in so many generations. I wish it was as recessive in me as in grandfather."
I didn't have to answer. He would heal. But now that new strength, that added dimension--whatever it was--was a raw wound in his brain.
He said, "You remember about the Hastur and Alton Gifts? How tight can you barrier your mind? Hell could break loose, you know."
"In a crowd like this, my barriers aren't worth too much," I said. I knew what he meant, though. The Hastur and Alton Gifts were mutually antagonistic, the two like poles of a magnet which cannot be made to touch. I didn't know what the Hastur Gift was; but from time immemorial in the Comyn, Hastur and Alton could work together only with infinite precaution--even in the matrix screens. Regis, a latent Hastur, his Gift dormant, I could join in rapport; could even force it on him undesired. A developed Hastur, which he had suddenly become, could knock my mind from his with the fury of lightning. Regis and I could read each other's minds if we wanted to--ordinary telepathy isn't affected-- but we could probably never link in rapport again.
Reluctantly I found myself wondering. I had forced contact on Regis,; had he taken this step to protect himself from another such attempt? Didn't he trust me?
But before I could ask him, the dome lights were switched off. Immediately the room was flooded with streaming, silvery moonlight; there was a soft "A--ah!" from the thronged guests as, through the clearing dome, the four moons, blazing now in full conjunction, lighted the floor like daylight. Suddenly, I felt a light touch, and looked down to see Dio Ridenow standing beside me.
Her dress--a molded tabard of some stuff that gleamed, green and blue and silver, in the shifting moonlight--was so breathtakingly fitted to her body that it might as well have been sprayed on; and her fair hair, the color of the moonlight, rippled like water with the glint of jewels. She tossed her head, with a little silvery chiming of tiny bells.
"Well? Am I beautiful enough for you?"
I tried to sidestep the provocative tone, the green witch-fire in her saucy eyes. "I must say it is an improvement over your riding breeches," I said dryly.
She giggled and tucked her hand through my arm; a hard, light little hand. "Dance with me, Lew? A secain?" Without waiting for my answer, she tapped the rhythm-pattern on the light-panel, and after a moment the steady, characteristic beat of the secain throbbed into the invisible music.
The secain is no formal promenade. Last year Dio and I had outraged the dowagers and the dandies, even on the pleasure-world of Vainwal, by dancing it there. I didn't want to dance it here. The floor was almost cleared now; most of the Thendara women are too prim for this wild and ancient mountain dance.
Still, I owed Dio something.
For a Darkovan girl, Dio was not a particularly expert dancer. But she was warm and vibrant; she smiled teasingly up at me, and, resenting that smile which took so much for granted, I whirled her till another girl would have screamed for mercy. But as she came upright she laughed at me; as always, she was scornful of my strength. She was like spring-steel tempered to my touch.
In the last figure of the dance I caught her tighter than the pattern of the dance demanded. This we had come to know well, this sense of being in key, body and mind, a closer touch than any physical intimacy. The beat of the secain throbbed in my blood, and as the music pulsed and pounded to climax, my senses pounded and pulsed, and as the final explosive drum-and-cymbal chord quivered and rang, I kissed her--hard.
The silence was anticlimax. Dio slid from my arms, and under the softening music we passed out under the open sky.
"I've been wondering--" teasingly, Dio lowered her voice, "when Hastur told you about your child--did you wonder about me?"
I frowned, displeased. That came too close for comfort. She laughed, but the laugh was sharp and mirthless.
"Thanks. I wasn't, if that helps any. Lew--do you really want that girl Callina?"
This I would not discuss with Dio.
"Why? Do you care?"
"Not much." But it didn't sound convincing. "But I think you're a fool. After all, she's not a woman--"
Now I was really shocked. This was not like Dio. I said, angrily, "As much as yourself!"
"That's almost funny, coming from you!"
I threatened, "Dio, if you make a scene, I will find it a pleasure to break your neck."
"I know you will!" She was laughing again, but this tune it was high and hysterical. "That's what I love about you! Your solution for all problems! Kill someone! Break a neck or two! But one thing I know, for sure; Callina's finished, and Ashara's going to lose her pawn!"
"What the devil are you talking about?"
She was still laughing that wildly hysterical laughter, "You'll see! It could have been you, you know, you could have saved them all that trouble! You and your crazy scruples! You cheated yourself, and especially /Callina! Or, should I say, you played Ashara's game--"
I caught her wrist with the trick hold I'd used on Regis and wrenched her abruptly round. My fingers crushed on her wrist till she writhed, "You brute, you're breaking my arm! Damn it, Lew, you're not funny, you're hurting me!"
"You ought to be hurt," I said savagely. "You ought to be beaten! What are they going to do to Callina? Tell me, or I swear, Dio, I've never used the Gi
ft on a woman before, but I'll tear it out of you if I have to!"
"You couldn't!" We were facing each other now in a blaze of fury that obliterated everything outside. "Remember?"
"Damn you!" The truth made me savage. Dio alone of all people was completely and perfectly protected against my Gift, forever--because of what had been between us on Vainwal. It had to be that way.
There are things no telepath, no man, can control. That-touching--in intimacy, is one of them. And Dio was one of the hypersensitive Ridenow. To safeguard her sanity, I had given her certain defenses against me. I could never take more from her, telepathically, than she wanted to give. More was impossible. I could remove that barrier--if I wanted to kill her. No other way.
I swore, impotently. Suddenly Dio flung her arms around my neck, eyes burning at me like green flames. "You blind fool," she choked, "you can't see what's before your very eyes, and you'll go blundering in again and spoil it all! Can't you trust me?"
She was very close, and the contact was dizzying. Realizing, what she was doing, I thrust her suddenly and roughly away. "That won't get you anywhere."
Her face hardened. "Very well. There is a rumor current-- and believed--that only a virgin may hold Callina's particular powers. There is, shall I say, a certain faction which holds to the belief that we would all be better off if Callina were-- let's say--made suddenly powerless. And since your conduct is above reproach, there is one way to remedy the situation--"
I stared at her, dimly beginning to realize what she meant. But that was horrible! And was there any man on Darkover who would dare-- "Dio, if this is your idea of a filthy joke--"
"A joke, but it's on Ashara," she said. Suddenly she grew quiet and deadly serious. "Lew, trust me. I can't explain, but you've got to keep out of it. Callina isn't what you think, not at all. She isn't--"
I brought my hand back and slapped her, hard. The blow sent her reeling. "You've had that coming for a year," I grated.
Suddenly Regis was close beside me; in an instant he had caught the overflowing of my thought, and his face paled. "Callina!"