Earth is Heaven

'I'll show you what's to hurt! Open it! Come on, move!' The lid rose to reveal wrapped carvings made of local woods. 'Now get out of here!' He followed the man to the ramp and called down to a lounging guard. 'This man's fired! I don't want to see him again!'

Harsh punishment if the man was genuine but the example spurred the others to greater care. Dumarest began to sweat as he stacked the boxes and fastened restraints. The hold became cramped, men edging past each other; a tide of drably dressed figures milling in baffling confusion.

As the day moved toward dusk Batrun began to get worried.

'Earl, what about Ysanne? She should be here by now.'

'She'll be here. We don't leave without her.'

'She shouldn't have been held,' said Batrun. 'We shouldn't have allowed it.'

A matter over which there had been no choice. As security for the money paid for the repairs Belkner had insisted on a safeguard. Ysanne had provided it. She would join the ship when everything was ready to leave.

'Captain?' An officer, a stranger, stood at the foot of the ramp. 'Are you ready for clearance inspection?'

Batrun looked at Dumarest, who shook his head.

'Not yet.'

'What's the delay? Surely you are loaded by now?'

'The restraints have slipped,' said Dumarest. He thrust his way forward to face the man. 'I'll have to change the stacking.'

The officer made no comment but his face showed what he thought of a handler who couldn't stack a cargo.

'I'll have to clear a part of the hold,' added Dumarest. 'Shift some of the cargo outside so as to get room to repair the linkages. It'll take time.'

'How long?'

'Does it matter?' Dumarest let irritation edge his voice. 'We're not on piece work. Anyway, we aren't scheduled to leave until dawn.'

'You don't leave at all until you've been checked,' snapped the officer. 'Remember that.'

The threat hung in the air as he moved away and Dumarest watched him go with thoughtful eyes. The man was nothing, a junior officer, who would take Urich's orders without question unless, like the laborer, he was more than he seemed. A risk to add to the rest but one which tipped the scale an uncomfortable degree into the region of danger.

He remembered Urich, the way the man had sat, his eyes, the tension revealed in the movement of his fingers on the glass. A clever and ruthless man who worked in devious ways-one who had too much at stake to make a willing pawn.

Belkner had sworn otherwise-but Belkner could have been wrong.

To Batrun he said, 'Andre, find Vosper and have him tell Belkner to be here an hour after dusk with Ysanne. He shows or the deal is off.'

'Trouble?'

'Maybe. After you've seen Vesper go to Eunice of the Yekatania. Get her to come to the ship. Use me as an excuse. And make sure everyone knows she's aboard.'

Batrun said dryly, 'Everyone? Including Urich Sheiner?'

'Especially him. Vruya too.' Dumarest added, 'Remember she's interested in witchcraft-that should make it easy.'

The guard at the gate stepped forward, gun rising, the weapon lowering as he recognized Urich. 'Sir!' His free hand snapped a salute. 'I didn't-'

'Report on the field!'

'As normal, sir. Intense activity around the Erce but they've had trouble loading and-'

'A woman!' Urich swallowed, fighting for calm. 'Has a woman arrived for the Erce?' He knew he was being imprecise. More calmly he said, 'Did you see my fiancee enter the field? A lady of the Quelen? She could have been with a captain.'

'Captain Batrun, sir. Yes. About an hour ago.'

Long enough for who knew what damage to be done? Lies and promises, tales she yearned to hear, romance which would further corrode his influence. Dumarest! Anger flooded him as he ran across the field. An adventurer-why had he been such a fool to trust the man?

The ramp was down, the area heaped with a litter of boxes, laborers milling in undirected motion. One bumped into him, falling at his shove, turning as he hit the dirt to curse, breaking off the words as he recognised the uniform. Within the port was more apparent chaos.

'Dumarest!' A tall figure turned from a stack of boxes. 'Dumarest, damn you! Where is she?'

'Resting.' Dumarest came toward Urich, smiling, casual. 'She was upset and I thought it best to sedate her. Don't worry,' he soothed. 'She is perfectly all right.'

She lay on a bunk in a cabin, her eyes closed, face smoothed into the likeness of a doll. The heavy lashes rested on rounded cheeks and golden hair made an aureole on the pillow. She wore scarlet touched with gold.

'She came because I was ill,' said Dumarest. 'Needing her. I tried to get to her but was unable to move. Some evil spell had me in its power. One strong enough to resist her command. Her summons.'

'You mock!'

'I guessed,' corrected Dumarest. 'The trick had worked once so why not again? And how best to reinforce the conviction of her own power? Even if she hadn't been summoning me the concept of a binding spell was valid enough for her to come and break it. A further demonstration of her own ability.' Shrugging he ended, 'She came-does it matter why?'

'To me, yes!' Urich glanced at the woman then back at Dumarest. He was armed. To snatch the gun from his belt and fire would be to end the threat of losing her. One move and… He looked down, saw the fingers gripping the hand resting on the butt, felt the pain. 'Why?' he demanded. 'Why did you bring her here?'

'Because I wanted you to come after her.' Dumarest moved his grip, lifted the gun from the holster and stepped back with it hanging at his side. 'Shall we go?'

Belkner was in the salon, Ysanne at his side. He drew in his breath as Urich entered and glared at Dumarest.

'You fool! You-'

'Shut up and listen!' Dumarest glanced at Ysanne. 'Go and help Andre in the hold. Keep things moving.' He handed her the gun. 'Any trouble let me know.'

As she left, he stood listening, one hand resting on a bulkhead, sensing the activity within the vessel, the interplay of vibrations. A man in command of his environment, thought Urich. He was so confident he needed no weapons. Then he saw the hilt of the knife riding above the right boot, remembered the speed he had seen it used and knew that Dumarest was far from vulnerable. Even if the room had been filled with enemies he could still have been in command.

Turning from the bulkhead Dumarest said, 'You made a mistake, Leo. The worst mistake possible to make. You underestimated your enemy. I almost did the same.'

'An enemy?' Belkner was incredulous. 'Urich? But he's a friend.'

'Because he was bora to the Ypsheim?' Dumarest heard Urich's indrawn breath, a harsh, ugly sound. 'What a person learns in their youth stays with them; the way they talk, walk, act and react. Give a beggar a fortune and you don't have a prince. Strip a rich man and he still has the arrogance of wealth bred into his bone. Those born to servitude may escape and change their lives but, always, something remains. The movement of the eyes, the hands, even the tilt of the head. And the Ypsheim have served the Quelen for centuries.'

'So?'

'Krantz isn't escape-proof.' Dumarest kept his eyes on Urich. 'If a man has drive enough and money enough and is willing to take a chance he can get away. In a box of cargo, for example, with the handler bribed and money enough to pay for passage once in space. On another world he can learn and improve his position and pay for a minor operation.' His hand lifted to touch his forehead. 'A scar can easily be removed and, once gone, who is to tell if it was ever there?'