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clan's venerable traditions. At home on their distant planet, Cedric's immediate family lived in a house like
everybody else.
As soon as the greetings and ritual hospitality had been concluded, the cousin listened intently to Cedric's
story, nodded grimly, and then set to work.
Maal nodded slowly. "It is well that you have come to me."
So far the subject of payment had not come up, and he did not raise it now.
After a moment's thought, he announced that his first task would be to give Cedric his choice among
several types of weapons, each thoroughly approved by clan tradition. Or so Maal said; he claimed to be
an expert on such matters.
"I," said Cedric, "am certainly no expert on traditional weapons. But I want to do everything connected
with this business properly."
"Of course you do. Come with me."
At some distance behind the tents, surrounded by tall grass, was a storage shed, including a workshop,
with solid walls. Cedric's cousin unlocked the door and gestured his visitor inside.
A minute later, Maal was holding up a small device for his visitor's inspection. He seemed to have had
no trouble at all laying his hand on one. "This little tube fits in between the second and third metacarpal
bones fires a small-shaped charge that I can guarantee you will penetrate ordinary space armor at
arm's-length range.
"And this is a somewhat more elaborate system. We combine heat and radiation in the fingertips with
enhanced strength in the bones and the polymer muscles."
Traskeluk stared, becoming fascinated despite his original determination to get this over with as quickly
as practical. "It sounds complicated. How would I control it?"
"You have the deathdream, right? In your head." Maal raised a long finger, tapping his own skull. "I
know they give it to people in certain jobs."
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Traskeluk wondered if his cousin had once worked for the Space Force, or for the Templars, but
decided not to ask. He shook his head. "I had the deathdream, but no longer. They removed it when I
was in the hospital just now. The idea was that from now on I will be working in a safe job, at the base."
"But they did not dig out all the mechanism that was put into your head? No. They usually do not, in
cases like yours. So, we adapt what you have left in there, the control system, to working this new tool
that will be in your new hand. Don't worry, it won't kill you when you use it. And I have no need to open
up your head!" The older man laughed, a fierce sudden bark. "Sit down here, let's have a look at you."
When Cedric was seated, his cousin put a probe into the skullport under his scalp at the back of his
head, and in a moment had activated the icon.
Cedric was distracted by the icon of the device that he had thought was permanently erased. But now
suddenly it was back, drifting slightly in his visual field. For a little while, he had allowed himself to think
that he was done forever with such things. The little glowing shape appeared in both his eyes. And he
was distracted even more by the thought that it might be there perpetually.
That question had to be answered right away. "Am I going to be looking at this thing for the rest of my
life?"
"Not at all. It will go away as soon as the weapon is used," Maal assured him. "Anyway, you get
accustomed to it. You should have as many to look at as I myself have."
Traskeluk didn't care to ask how many icons that might be. His own original icon, now returned, was a
skull with blinking eyes. When it was hooked up to the deathdream there had been an intermediate stage,
so that the skull had only appeared after a preliminary ritual of thought.
But now it seemed that for the time being, at least, he was stuck with the skull. The little icon stayed
where it was, up in the upper left-hand corner of his visual field, however he moved or focused his eyes.
You might think that a man would be able to get used to it; it was really so inconspicuous. But&
Maal was giving him his preliminary instructions now. To trigger the device, in any of its modes of
destruction, he was going to have to look directly at it, and think a certain thought adapted from the
termdream he no longer had.
And through all this Cedric was conscious of no physical discomfort. It seemed that underground
technicians could be every bit as skillful as those with official jobs.
Even when Traskeluk closed his eyes, the icon was still there, though it dimmed in intensity. He knew
from experience that it wasn't going to keep him awake at night at least it never had, when it was wired
to his own suicide.
"What if I have to go offworld?" Traskeluk asked. "Is this new hardware going to show up on a detector
at a spaceport, or someplace like that?"
"No. No ordinary detector will see a thing. Don't worry about that. I know my business. If anything a
little funny does show up, they will attribute it to your old termdream installation."
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Cedric tended to accept Maal's word. He knew that some branches of the extended family, the clan,
had long experience in these matters.
The weapon's components were soon hidden between the artificial bones of Cedric's left hand, inside
the small bones of his fingertips, and amid the large polymer muscles of his forearm.
Now they were coming to what Maal called the really enjoyable part. Cedric's first intention had been to
choose whichever variety of lethal hardware that could be installed most quickly, and he still wanted to
get this business over with. But he allowed himself to be talked into a somewhat more elaborate array it
was easy to see that Maal really had his heart set on that installation.
Maal waxed enthusiastic, and even poetical, about the death agonies of the miserable victim under attack
by the more elaborate weapon system.
His client kept trying to cut him short. "I'm not that much interested in his death agonies. What I mainly
want to do is just finish him off."
"Bah. Think about it a little. There is plenty of room for artistry."
Cedric had no need for an anesthetic during the installation, since none of the work would be done on
live flesh or live nerves. But his mind was wavering. There were moments when he thought that coming
here had been a mistake.
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