Earth is Heaven

collecting charges come to a total of seven hundred and eighty-three engels. Not too much for a skilled man, surely? And you can dock his pay or cut his share so as to get it back.'

'To hell with him! He can go to the block!'

Dumarest said, 'Your engineer?'

'I can manage until we reach Bergerac. Talion can be sold.'

The officer shrugged. 'That is your right, Captain, but the full sum will have to be paid before you can leave. Putting the man up for auction will cause delay. Due process,' he explained. 'A matter of establishing title and just cause. There will be no difficulty, of course, but the formalities must be observed.' He, added, apologetically, 'Naturally the charge will increase the longer the guards remain.'

'I have to pay for them?'

'And your engineer's keep in jail. After the second day. It is the law.'

And one which would be kept. Batrun shrugged when he heard the news. 'Tough, Earl, but it happens. Too bad the charges are so high-we need an engineer.'

'An engineer and everything else,' said Ysanne bitterly. 'Don't waste time feeling sorry for Chunney. If he wants he can sell part of his cargo to get back his man. We have no choice. Tomorrow we lose the ship.' She looked at Dumarest. 'Unless we take Belkner's offer.'

That decision was yet to be made and Batrun voiced the reason as he helped himself to snuff. 'The odds are too high against us. How can we load, seal, leave without being spotted? Before we'd got half the cargo on board guards would be all over us. Armed men ready to use their guns. Chunney knows how they operate. That's why he backed down.' He closed the lid of the box and looked down at the elaborate decoration. 'Odd,' he mused. 'An engineer going when we need one so badly.'

'And money at hand to pay the bills.' Ysanne looked from one to the other. 'Why not take it, get clearance, grab the engineer and run?'

Dumarest said, 'And leave the Ypsheim behind?'

'Why not? We won't be coming back.' She frowned as he made no comment. 'For God's sake, Earl, we can't afford to be squeamish!'

Not now or ever when survival was at stake, but Belkner was no fool and to take him for one would be to make a mistake. As it would be to keep him waiting for an answer too long. Determined men, spurred by fear, could be dangerous and Belkner had hinted at power-enough to keep the guns from firing at the Erce when she left.

A promise to add to that of more money when they were safely in space and on their way to a new world. One as yet unspecified.

'Earl?' Ysanne, eager for action, was impatient. 'Can't we at least figure a way to get the engineer? Maybe then we could make a run for it.'

Batrun said, 'How?'

'Do we get him? How the hell do I know? Borrow, beg, gamble, lie, steal-all we need is eight hundred engels.'

'And to dodge the guns?'

She frowned, thinking, then slapped one hand on her thigh. 'Easy. We get the engineer, put the Erce in condition for immediate flight and wait. If asked we can say we're testing the engines. If guards come aboard we'll overpower them and lock them away.'

'And when a ship takes off we ride up with it,' said Dumarest. 'Right?'

'You've thought about it.' For a moment she looked like a child robbed of a sweet. 'Or maybe you're just damned clever at guessing answers. But it'll work, Earl. Those guns must be radar-controlled and hooked up to a computer guidance system. It'll expect a ship to leave and, by the time it's sorted out the fact that two ships are heading upward, it'll be too late to shoot us down.'

A plan born of desperation; one requiring split-second timing, containing too many variables, needing too much cooperation.

'No,' said Dumarest. 'The odds are too high against us.'

'You want to live forever?' She looked at Batrun. 'Andre?'

He said, quietly, 'We'd need to know the exact time another ship is due to leave. That means getting the help of the captain. How are we to pay for it or trust him if we could? On Krantz betrayal brings reward. And the guards will be cautious. Then, when we seal, the monitors will get suspicious and-'

'It could be done!'

'With time to prepare, maybe.' Batrun was diplomatic. 'But we don't have the time.'

And had less with the passing of each minute. Dumarest took five steps across the salon, turned, walked back to his previous position. Action repeated so as to stimulate the flow of blood through his brain. The pad of his boots created small whispering echoes which seemed to blend with the atmosphere in the compartment; the tension Belkner had left behind. The disappointment Vosper had masked at the loss of a commission.

Time-the essence of a trap now complicated by coincidence. A fortunate chance if it was what it appeared to be. An engineer available, one abandoned by his captain who, luckily for him, could manage without. An unusual circumstance as had been the actual arrest. Taverns frequented by spacers were reluctant to call in the law preferring to handle their own problems. Could the Ypsheim be involved? But even if they had stage-managed the fight could they have handled the courts and the rest of it? The charges and the scene at the Nitscike?

Halting, Dumarest looked at Batrun, waited until the captain had finished taking a pinch of snuff.

'Andre, go into town and find out what you can about Talion. Talk to Chunney. He must know we need an engineer so your interest will be natural. Find out why he's willing to let the man go.'

To Ysanne he said, 'Go to Vosper. Tell him to get the money from Belkner.'

'The deal's on?'

'Yes,' said Dumarest. 'The deal's on.'

Chapter Seven

For a man of imagination it was easy to think of the installation as a living thing; a monster buried deep with a computer for a brain, scanners for eyes, the guns and launchers fists to batter and destroy. One attended by hired men, well-paid, outwardly respectful. All of whom seemed to be taking a sharp interest in his face and forehead.

Nonsense, of course, a product of his secret fears, as Urich was aware. And the fears were triggered by Ava Vasudiva who had spoken for the Ypsheim.

But how had they known?

The question was academic-the fact remained. They knew and, knowing, held his future in their hands.

'Sir!' The technician's salute was crisp. 'Your orders?'

'None-I am making a casual inspection.'

One conducted with seeming idleness as Urich moved through the control center. Everything was as it should be, the crew alert, the entire installation a smoothly functioning machine. He checked the power sources, the monitors, pausing at the board showing details of ship-conditions; those with clearance, those still under interdict. Soon it would be time for another demonstration; a dummy lifted to be blasted from the sky as a warning to those who doubted the destructive power of Krantz. But later. Now he had other things to worry about.

Eunice, Vruya, Dumarest, the Ypsheim, the Erce.

He looked at it in a screen and felt a sudden flush of anger. Why had it come at the time it had? A ship bearing unwanted complications. To destroy it would be simple; a command and it would be done, the act justified on the grounds of suspicion and expediency. Vruya would understand and could even applaud the action-a man should protect his own.

But there was another way.

The guard at the gate saluted as he reached the field. Within the enclosure small groups of laborers moved in aimless directions as they performed their tasks. Too many for the work at hand but he was too distracted to notice. The Erce lay to one side and he made his way directly toward it. To the ramp and the open port where Dumarest was waiting.