He was silent for a moment, then gently lowered the suddenly limp body to the ground.
"Come on," he said to Daimya. The girl was standing over the inert form of her father, not understanding what had happened, words of encouragement still on her lips.
"Dad?" she said, bewildered.
Wolf took her arm. "Daimya, he's gone. Come on."
"No—Dad—" She knelt beside him on the ground.
"Sorry, Daimya," Wolf said under his breath. He swung, hitting her cleanly behind the head. The girl collapsed soundlessly, and he slung her over his shoulder and started on up the hill.
Finally, he cleared the crest. Just beyond it, lying in a tiny meadow lay the black, unmarked shuttle ship. As he came in view, the port opened and a man ran toward him. Wolf stumbled, caught his balance, went on.
"Here," said the crewman, "let me take her."
Silently, out of fatigue, Wolf relinquished his load and stumbled toward the port. It slid shut behind them, just in time to keep them from being covered with dirt blown from a hole that suddenly appeared a yard behind. Wolf caught a glimpse of men appearing at the crest.
Inside the ship, he could hear the thud and clang of the explosive cartridges detonating uselessly against the permalloy hull. Then the drives roared their song of power, and the shuttle lifted clear.