As they sprang to obey, Dumarest eased his limp burden into the only chair the office contained, turned it to face the phone, propping the head on the folded arms. To a casual glance he was a man engrossed in making a call.
"Sir?" A soldier called to Dumarest as he left the office. "What shall we load?"
* * * * *
The platform was pulled by a mechanical horse, a small, whining vehicle which dragged it across the field through veils of mist. It held a dozen crates, boxes chosen from a pile standing beside the doors and which Dumarest could only hope held things of value. There had been no time to make sure.
The soldiers who had loaded them walked at the rear of the platform. The driver, squinting ahead, cursed the mist as he strained to see his destination.
"The Varden, sir?"
"To the east of the field." The mist was both a help and a hindrance-and why hadn't Dephine placed the guide beacon? Dumarest pushed ahead, almost running, seeing it after he had covered a hundred yards, a winking, yellow glow. Dephine stood beneath it.
"Earl?"
"Is everything arranged?"
"Yes. Where is the loot?"
"Coming-what I could get of it." Dumarest turned as the thin whine of the vehicle grew louder. "Something went wrong. Get inside and out of that uniform. Have the captain ready to leave when I give the word. Hurry!"
"He won't be rushed, Earl. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He-"
"Will do as I tell him!" Dumarest snarled his impatience. "Don't stand there arguing, woman. We're racing against time. Now get in the ship and have the handler standing by. The loading ramp should be moving and the ports open. I-" He broke off as a dull report echoed through the air. "Guns."
"A diversion," she explained. "I arranged it. It should distract the guards."
Men bribed to fire into the air at a certain time, but they were late, a thing she hadn't yet realised.
"Earl?"
"The plan failed," he said, quickly. "The officer who was supposed to have taken care of the loading fell ill and his replacement knew nothing about it. The police are involved somehow and they could be moving in. Now get busy. If this ship leaves without us we're as good as dead. If it doesn't leave at all, the same. You take care of the captain while I see the handler. Are you armed?" He grunted as she showed him a compact laser. "Don't use it unless you have to, but don't hesitate to burn a hole if you must."
He ran into the ship as she vanished through the port. The handler, a sallow-faced man, straightened from where he leaned against a bulkhead. He scowled as Dumarest snapped orders.
"Now wait a minute, mister. I'm not one of your soldier-boys to jump when you give the word. You've got a cargo to be loaded? Right, we'll load it, but all in good time."
"My time," said Dumarest. "Get that ramp started and get to work. Never mind stacking the stuff, just get it aboard."
"Now wait a minute!" The handler gulped as Dumarest reached out towards him, gripped him, sank his fingers into yielding flesh. "You-I can't breathe!"
"You can breathe," said Dumarest. "But not for long if you keep arguing. Now get to it and let me see you move."
The platform was approaching when he ducked through the port, coming to a halt as Dumarest reached the ground.
The handler, scared, had started the belt and Dumarest snapped at the man to throw the crates on the moving surface. As the first vanished into the ship a soldier tensed, head turned, listening as the sound of gunfire came closer.
"Something's up, Colonel. An attack of some kind."
"Just noise. Keep working." Dumarest looked at the beacon. It would attract unwanted attention and it had served its purpose. He mounted the ramp, lifted it from its support and switched off the pulsing, yellow glow. As it died a bullet smashed the instrument from his hands.
"You at the ship!" The voice, amplified, roared from the mist. "You haven't a chance. Surrender!"
"Sir?" The soldiers, bemused, stared up at where Dumarest stood. "What's happening, Colonel?"
"Nothing."
"We're being fired on!" A soldier grabbed his rifle from the platform, freezing as the voice thundered around them.
"This is Colonel Emridge speaking. I order all soldiers of the Legion to refuse to obey all orders from any officer but myself. If they are with an officer they must place him under arrest. This is a direct command from the highest level. If any officer attempts to escape he is to be shot down."
"I guess that means you, Colonel." The soldier with the rifle lifted it to his shoulder. "Move and I'll let you have it."
The port was open behind him, the door swung back, a slab of solid metal more than proof against a bullet. But the man had his finger on the trigger, the weapon aimed and ready to fire.
Dumarest called, loudly, "No! Don't kill him! Don't shoot!"
He saw the barrel of the rifle drop as the man instinctively turned and was diving into the ship before he could realise how he'd been tricked. A bullet slammed against the hull, another against the door as he dogged it tight.
"Dephine?" Dumarest slapped his hand against the communicator as he called. "Dephine?"
"Here, Earl." Her voice was small over the speaker, strained, but that was to be expected. "In the control room."
"Coming. Have the captain order total seal."
Dumarest released the button and made his way through the ship, passing closed doors and familiar compartments. In the empty salon he paused, slipping the knife from his boot and tucking it into the belt of his uniform. As he reached the control room he called, "Dephine?"
"Here, Earl. Inside."
She stood beside the control chair, out of uniform now, her clothing crumpled, her hair a mess. Her hands, empty, were extended towards him.
Dumarest turned, snatching at his knife, freezing as he saw the man behind him, the knuckle white on the trigger of the laser pointed at his stomach.
Major Kan Lofoten smiled.
* * * * *
He stood very tall and very confident against the edge of the door, neat in his uniform, the gun no less menacing than his eyes.
He said, "As I promised, Captain. You see how an intelligent brain can determine the course of events? Either way we win."
Dumarest looked at the woman.
"He was waiting, Earl. Here in the control room. He disarmed me before I had a chance." Swallowing she added, "When I came to talk to the captain he-"
"Shall we say that I took over?" Lofoten gestured with the gun. "But then I have been in charge all along. Even your clever scheme, my dear, which was not so clever when duly considered, was more the result of my hints than your own intelligence. To steal from a mercenary band. How little you know of how the military operate. And yet there was a chance the thing could succeed given the right kind of fool."