Dumarest said, "Thank you." And meant it.
"Think it over. The offers open until we leave."
A perfect escape, and one which Dumarest would have taken, had things been normal. The random movements of a free trader negated even the predictive skill of the Cyclan. He had dodged them by such a method before, and would again if it hadn't been for the machinations of Aihult Chan Parect. There could be no thought of escape until he had rid himself of the thing which had been planted within his body.
* * *
Zenya had dressed with care, a clinging gown of scarlet edged with gold, the sleeves long, the skirt full. Gems winked in her hair, and precious metal made a delicate filigree around her throat. Against his somber grayness the colors were accentuated in brilliant contrast. She blinked as he told her of the captain's lie,
"A lady of Samalle? I've never heard of the place, Earl."
"Then don't talk about it. Just remember that it is one of the Warrior Worlds, dedicated to military training, a supplier of mercenaries. If you are questioned, be vague. If they insist on answers, mention security and refer them to me. On no account go into detail. You follow me, you do as I order, that is all you need to say."
She looked down at her gown. "Should I change?"
"No."
"This is hardly a uniform, Earl. Would your lady be so feminine?"
Patiently he said, "You are not a member of any armed force or service. Your prime function is to amuse and entertain."
"You, Earl? As if I were a courtesan?"
"As if you were the selected lady of a high-ranking military officer. A noble of a military caste. You have pride, discretion, and are faithful to your position. Try any games, and you could ruin us both. Smile at no one but me. Talk to no one if you can avoid it. Go nowhere unattended and never be alone with a man other than myself."
Smiling, she said, "That means we have to act as if we are married, Earl. Really married. I'm going to like that."
"I have a job to do, Zenya."
"But do you have to be so remote? All during the voyage you've avoided me. At times you treated me as if I were your enemy. Why, Earl? What have I done?"
Was she innocent, or ingenious? It was impossible to tell. He said emotionlessly, "I've had a lot on my mind, Zenya. If you are ready, let us go."
A car waited at the foot of the ramp. As they descended, Lieutenant Hein snapped to attention, his men following suit. His salute was crisp.
"My lord, I have been in contact with my superiors. They ask you and your lady to be their guests. The car will take you to the Kesh Tower." He added self-consciously, "It is the finest hotel in the city."
Zenya said, "That is most kind."
"It is a pleasure, my lady." Hein's eyes searched her face, dropped to the contours of her body, rose again as he became aware of Dumarest's attention. "You have baggage, my lord?"
"We are traveling light," said Dumarest dryly. "A force moves faster when it lives off the land. Who is your ranking officer?"
"Major Leem, sir."
"Of the field operations, yes. And his?"
"Colonel Paran."
"I hope to have the pleasure of meeting him," said Dumarest. "When I do, I shall commend your courtesy. Now, if you will take my lady's bag?"
It was small, holding only her gowns, jewelry, and cosmetics. The lieutenant placed it in the car, ushered them into the rear compartment, saluted again as it drove away.
At his side Zenya said, "That was a nice man, Earl."
His hand dropped to her knee, squeezed it in warning. "A potentially fine officer," he said curtly. "He needs polishing, but the material is there. Be silent now and allow me to examine the city."
It was as he had expected, a sprawl of low houses dominated by a few high towers, laced with streets and avenues. Zenya was entranced; she clung to his arm as they glided onward, her eyes wide at each new sight, the lines of marching men, the banners, the throng of pedestrians wearing a variety of clothing. Uniforms were everywhere, young men flushed with martial fever strutting along the sidewalks, girls at their sides, reveling in newfound importance.
Photographers waited outside the hotel, lenses aimed, shutters snapping, a portable TV camera following them as they left the car and entered the foyer. Publicity Dumarest could have done without, but dared not avoid. The lie invented by Branchard had spread faster than he had expected, yet the arrival of a reputed master of military prowess would be a thing to catch the interest of a world at war.
Within the foyer, others waited. A man came forward, recorder in hand. "My lord, have you come to Chard to aid our war effort?"
"How soon do you think victory will be ours, sir?"
"Are you here as a participant or as an observer?"
"My lady, if you will smile, please?"
A deep voice rose above the babble. "Gentlemen! This is no way to treat our guest. You will all be given the opportunity of asking your questions at a later date. In the meantime, military necessity must take precedence over your desire for news."
A tall man moved forward, grizzled hair short beneath a uniform cap, the insignia of high command bright on the collar of his tunic. The hand he extended was broad, backed with a fine down of russet hair.
"I am Colonel Paran. Welcome to Chard, sir. We are pleased to meet you and your lady."
His grip was firm. As Dumarest released the hand he said, "You are efficient, colonel. We have barely left the field."
"We do our best, sir. And it would be impolite not to extend a personal welcome to a master of military acumen. Professional courtesy, in these times more than any other, must be observed." He glanced to where aides had ushered the newsmen to the sides of the foyer. "Now, of course, you wish to refresh yourselves. All has been arranged. A suite to accommodate you, food if you are hungry." He paused, then added, "I understand the ship on which you arrived was not of the best."
"It served."
"To bring you to Chard?"
"It landed here." Dumarest met the shrewd eyes. "Another vessel could take me to where I have a commission waiting."
"You are engaged?"
"A preliminary survey… but that would not interest you."
"I understand." Paran hesitated. "I would appreciate the opportunity of a conference. A casual discussion with myself and a few others. If that would be possible… "
"Certainly." Dumarest glanced to where Zenya stood preening herself. "Shall we say in an hour?"
* * *
The suite was luxurious, broad windows giving a clear view of the city, the furnishings all of white and amber. Zenya roved through it, her musical voice rising, fading as she passed from room to room.