'And your pistol.'
'It doesn't work,' said Lee.
'Yes, it does. Put it down.'
Lee did so, and then straightened up, feeling dizzy. For a moment the sounds of the harbor receded: the cry of the gulls, the raised voices from the coal tanker and the crane driver across the water, the splash of the dredger, the striking of the Customs House clock; and then it seemed as if a dark cloud had sprung up out of nowhere and enveloped the sun, because the color drained from the world and everything dimmed.
It only lasted a moment, and then he found another officer's hand steadying his arm, and came to his full senses again.
'Follow me, please,' said the officer, and set off briskly towards the end of the quay. As Lee passed the schooner he could see the crew unseating the heel of the derrick, and a man casting off a rope, and Captain van Breda hurrying up the gangplank and shouting an order.
'Where are we going?' said Lee. 'I thought your Customs House was back there.'
'It is,' said the Lieutenant, and left it at that; but as they passed the last warehouse Lee saw a launch tied up at a flight of steps, in the Customs and Revenue colors of navy and white. The engine was chugging quietly, and a rating held the painter tight through a ring in the wall to keep the boat steady as the first officer stepped on board.
Lee crouched to pick up Hester, who whispered, 'It's all right, Lee. Everything's fine.'
Deeply puzzled, he stepped onto the launch and sat down in the little cabin as the other two officers followed.
The sailor cast off, and one of the officers took the wheel and opened the throttle. Lee looked back at the schooner, whose bow was already swinging out away from the quay.
The young officer had laid Lee's pistol and the Winchester on the bench opposite where Lee was sitting, and Lee could easily have reached either of them. He sat still and quiet, holding Hester close, until the launch had passed the dredger and rounded the lighthouse, and was pitching briskly in the waves of the open sea.
'All right, I give up,' he said. 'What the hell is going on?'
'Mr. Scoresby, please take your pistol,' said Haugland. 'And I believe the rifle is also yours.'
'Well, now I'm dreaming,' said Lee. He took the revolver and spun the cylinder, which ran smoothly and surely. 'Where are we going, and why?'
'We are going round the headland to the Barents Sea Company Depot, where you will find your balloon inflated and ready to leave. Here, by the way, is your luggage from the boardinghouse.'
He took Lee's kitbag from a locker. Too numb to be surprised any longer, Lee nodded and took it silently.
The officer at the wheel changed course, and the boat pitched and rolled in the lively sea. Lee watched the rocky shoreline, and saw a seal surface, and then another and another.
'They are fleeing from the bear,' said Haugland.
'Where's he?'
'On his way to the depot. He is not interested in seals for now. He has something to give you.'
'Well, this is a damn surprising morning,' said Lee.
'The fact is this, Mr. Scoresby: there is a struggle going on throughout the northern lands, of which this little island is a microcosm. On one hand there are the properly constituted civil institutions such as the Customs and Revenue Board, and on the other the uncontrolled power of the large private companies such as Larsen Manganese, which are dominating more and more of public life, though they are not subject to any form of democratic sanction. If Mr. Poliakov wins this election, he will make life easier for Larsen Manganese and its fellows, and worse for the people of Novy Odense.'
'I thought he was campaigning against the bears,' said Lee. 'I thought that was his whole platform.'
'That is what he wants simple people to think.'
'Oh,' said Lee. 'Simple people, eh. Well, he certainly worked that trick.'
'Until now he has been very careful to remain just within the law, but trying to deprive Captain van Breda of that cargo was a step too far. Whoever hired those gunmen was also, of course, committing a crime, but I have no doubt that we shall find it impossible to prove any connection with Poliakov. I am also sure that his lawyers will manage to confuse the court and secure an acquittal in the matter of the cargo. In short, Mr. Scoresby, we are grateful to you for dealing with an unpleasant problem. Your action was all the more honorable in that you had no personal interest in the matter.'
'Oh, I don't think much about honor,' Lee said uncomfortably.
'Well, we are grateful, as I say. You will find your balloon fully provisioned, and there is a good east wind.'
Lee looked ahead through the spray-splashed cabin window. They were rapidly approaching the mole sheltering the depot, and Lee could see his balloon, as the young man had promised, already inflated and swaying in the wind. It was a case of thank you very much and don't come back, he thought.
As the launch passed the mole and slowed down in the calmer water inside it, Lee felt gingerly inside his coat for the damage to his shoulder. It hurt like hell, but as far as he could tell it hadn't done any structural damage. As for his ear, he felt that too; there was a bite- shaped gap at the top big enough to fit a finger in, and it was still bleeding.
'Before you put me in my balloon and cut the tether and wave goodbye,' he said, 'is there somewhere I can fix myself up? I take it you have no objection if I patch up the holes I seem to have acquired?'
'No objection whatsoever,' said Haugland drily.
