Flandry disengaged the tendrils around his hand and reached for the hinged plate. He didn’t see very well, nor could he smell the oil and scorched insulation.
“Hold off,” Hauksberg said. Flandry didn’t hear him. Hauksberg stepped close and kicked him. “Get away from there, I say. We want him alive.”
Flandry lurched erect. “You can’t.”
“Can and will.” Hauksberg’s lips were drawn back, his chest rose and fell, the cheroot had dropped from his mouth into the spreading blood. “Great Emperor! I see the whole thing. Abrams had this double agent. He’d get the information, it’d be passed on to you, and you’d go home in disgrace when I caught you with Persis.” He took a moment to give the girl a look of triumph. “You follow, my dear? You were nothin’ but an object.”
She strained away from them, one hand to her mouth, the other fending off the world.
“Sivilla, Sivilla,” came from the floor. “Oh, hurry!”
Hauksberg backed toward the phone. “We’ll call a medic. I think if we’re fast we can save this chap.”
“But don’t you understand?” Flandry implored. “Those numbers—there is something about Starkad—your mission never had a chance. We’ve got to let our people know!”
“Let me worry ’bout that,” Hauksberg said. “You face a charge of treason.”
“For trying to bail out the Empire?”
“For tryin’ to sabotage an official delegation. Tryin’ to make your own policy, you and Abrams. Think you’re his Majesty? You’ll learn better.” Flandry took a step forward. The gun jerked. “Stand back! Soon blast you as not, y’ know.” Hauksberg’s free hand reached for the phone.
Flandry stood over Dwyr, in a private Judgment Day.
Persis ran across the floor. “Mark, no!”
“Get away.” Hauksberg held his gun on the boy.
Persis flung her arms around him. Suddenly her hands closed on his right wrist. She threw herself down, dragging the blaster with her. “Nicky!” she screamed.
Flandry sprang. Hauksberg hit Persis with his fist. She took the blow on her skull and hung on. Flandry arrived. Hauksberg struck at him. Flandry batted the hand aside with one arm. His other, stiff-fingered, drove into the solar plexus. Hauksberg doubled. Flandry chopped him behind the ear. He fell in a heap.
Flandry scooped up the blaster and punched the phone controls. “Airboat to Embassy,” he ordered in Eriau.
Turning, he strode back to Dwyr, knelt, and opened the frontal plate. Was this the switch he wanted? He undid its safety lock. “Good-bye, my friend,” he said.
“One moment,” wavered from the machine. “I lost her. So much darkness. Noise … Now.”
Flandry pulled the switch. The lights went out in the eyes and Dwyr lay still.
Persis sprawled by Hauksberg, shaken with crying. Flandry returned and raised her. “I’ll have to make a dash,” he said. “Might not finish it. Do you want to come?”
She clung to him. “Yes, yes, yes. They’d have killed you.”
He embraced her one-armed, his other hand holding the blaster on Hauksberg, who stirred and choked. Wonder broke upon him like morning. “Why did you help me?” he asked low.
“I don’t know. Take me away from here!”
“Well … you may have done something great for the human race. If that information really is important. It has to be. Go put on a dress and shoes. Comb your hair. Find me a clean pair of pants. These are all bloody. Be quick.” She gripped him tighter and sobbed. He slapped her. “Quick, I said! Or I’ll have to leave you behind.”
She ran. He nudged Hauksberg with his foot. “Up, my lord.”
Hauksberg crawled to a stance. “You’re crazy,” he gasped. “Do you seriously expect to escape?”
“I seriously expect to try. Give me that holster belt.” Flandry clipped it on. “We’ll walk to the boat. If anyone asks, you’re satisfied with my story, I’ve given you news which can’t wait, and we’re off to report in person to the Merseian authorities. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll start shooting my way through, and you’ll get the first bolt. Clear?”
Hauksberg rubbed the bruise behind his ear and glared.
With action upon him, Flandry lost every doubt. Adrenaline sang in his veins. Never had he perceived more sharply—this over-elegant room, the bloodshot eyes in front of him, the lovely sway of Persis re-entering in a fire-red gown, odors of sweat and anger, sigh of a ventilator, heat in his skin, muscle sliding across muscle, the angle of his elbow where he aimed the gun, by eternity, he was alive!
Having changed pants, he said, “Out we go. You first, my lord. Me a pace behind, as fits my rank. Persis next to you. Watch his face, darling. He might try to signal with it. If he blows a distress rocket from his nose, tell me and I’ll kill him.”
Her lips trembled. “No. You can’t do that. Not to Mark.”
“He’d’ve done it to me. We’re committed, and not to any very genteel game. If he behaves himself he’ll live, maybe. March.”
As they left, Flandry saluted that which lay on the floor.
But he did not forget to screen the view of it with his body on his way out to the corridor, until the door shut behind him. Around a corner, they met a couple of young staffmen headed in their direction. “Is everything well, my lord?” one asked. Flandry’s fingers twitched near his sheathed gun. He cleared his throat loudly.
Hauksberg made a nod. “Bound for Afon,” he said. “Immediately. With these people.”
“Confidential material in the suite,” Flandry added. “Don’t go in, and make sure nobody else does.”
He was conscious of their stares, like bullets hitting his back. Could he indeed bluff his way clear? Probably. This was no police or military center, wasn’t geared to violence, only created violence for others to quell. His danger lay beyond the compound. Surely, by now, the place was staked out. Dwyr had wrought a miracle in entering unseen.
They were stopped again in the lobby, and again got past on words. Outside, the garden lay aflash with dew under Lythyr and a sickle Neihevin. The air was cool. It quivered with distant machine sounds. Abrams’ speedster had arrived. O God, I have to leave him behind! It sat on the parking strip, door open. Flandry urged Hauksberg and Persis aboard. He closed the door and waved on the lights. “Sit down at the console,” he ordered his prisoner. “Persis, bring a towel from the head. My lord, we’re about to talk our way through their security cordon. Will they believe we’re harmlessly bound for Dhangodhan?”
Hauksberg’s face contorted. “When Brechdan is here? Don’t be ridiculous. C’mon, end the comedy, surrender and make things easier for yourself.”
“Well, we’ll do it the hard way. When we’re challenged, tell ’em we’re headed back to your ship to fetch some stuff we need to show Brechdan in connection with this episode.”
“D’ you dream they’ll swallow that?”
“I think they might. Merseians aren’t as rule-bound as Terrans. To them, it’s in character for a boss noble to act on his own, without filing twenty different certificates first. If they don’t believe us, I’ll cut out the safety locks and ram a flier of theirs; so be good.” Persis gave Flandry the towel. “I’m going to tie your hands. Cooperate or I’ll slug you.”
He grew conscious, then, of what power meant, how it worked. You kept the initiative. The other fellow’s instinct was to obey, unless he was trained in self-mastery. But you dared not slack off the pressure for a second. Hauksberg slumped in his seat and gave no trouble.
“You won’t hurt him, Nicky?” Persis begged.
“Not if I can avoid it. Haven’t we troubles enough?” Flandry took the manual-pilot chair. The boat swung aloft.
A buzz came from the console. Flandry closed that circuit. A uniformed Merseian looked from the vidscreen. He could see nothing but their upper bodies. “Halt!” he ordered. “Security.”