The Sorceress of Karres

by Eric Flint

  "Too clumping right!" said the Leewit. "You aren't safe doing that. But I could probably do it with Goth."

  "Uh, skipper," said Vezzarn over the intercom. "There's mud coming in the hole, and I can't stop it. I can't put a patch onto the hull unless we get out of this stuff and we manage to get the surface really, really clean. It'd be best put on from the outside, I reckon."

  Pausert looked out at the viewscreens. They were settling even faster into what he had taken for a meadow. And there was a Megair atmospheric chase craft bearing down on them already. It wasn't one of those they'd fled earlier, but a larger vessel.

  "I don't think we're going to get the chance. We're going to have to abandon ship, I'm afraid."

  "More ships coming, Captain," warned the Leewit. "They must have a real hot-shot planetary defense system."

  "I guess eating travelers does tend to make people want to come to your planet and exterminate you," said Pausert wryly. "Now the question is, can we take the Egger route out with the ship holed?"

  Goth shook her head. "The hole is not the issue, Captain. It's-"

  "Great Patham!" said the Leewit. "They have some kind of gravity tractor on us. They're lifting the Venture! "

  The ship pulled free of the clinging mud with a resounding plop.

  "And now?"

  Pausert took a deep breath. "Now we play it by ear. Let's get ready to go Sheewash-it could be interesting with that tractor on us."

  "Would be possible but exhausting, Captain," said Goth. "Couple of Karres operatives got caught by a Megair ship. They don't eat their catch at once. So they had time to teach those Cannibals a lesson or three. We could stall for time ourselves, maybe, long enough to fix the Venture."

  "Are they human, Goth?"

  "Hard to say, Captain. If we have it right, they're humans as humans would have been if things had been a whole lot different.

  Pausert took a deep breath. "Okay. Then we play things by ear. If they start to try to cook us, we'll take them for a Sheewash ride."

  The Venture hit against the large floater with a clang.

  The ship began moving off.

  "Hopefully they're taking us somewhere dry," said Pausert, as they moved through swirling cloud and rain.

  "I think that'd have to be off-world," said Goth.

  "Looks like it. In the meanwhile let's see if we can get some kind of patch on that hole, even if it's not a perfect seal. If need be, we can all put on pressure suits and then look for a moon to go and repair it."

  "I'll go, Captain. You stay here and watch 'em."

  For a moment Pausert nearly demurred. But then he realized that if he couldn't trust her, he couldn't trust anyone. And she'd grown noticeably, too. For him, she'd only been gone a few weeks. But for her, he'd gathered, something like six months had passed. She'd always been quick to take on responsibility, but this was a new Goth moving out of childhood and becoming his equal. He rather liked it, actually. As Vala, she'd been the one leading him, he reflected, thinking back.

  ***

  A little later, as the big Megair floater continued to fly with them, now escorted by several atmospheric craft, Goth came on the intercom. "Next time, let's not set down in the mud," she said. "It's patched, captain. It's not space tight, but it's the best we can do. We'll lose pressure. But it shouldn't be any worse than the door-seal damage from the pirate-imperials fight. We could manage a day or so, for sure. Going to take longer than that to get the mud out of here. It's sprayed all over."

  "Now all we need is the chance to get away."

  "After our last little hop, I reckon they'll be quite cautious about that."

  "I could stick my head out the airlock and whistle at them a little," said the Leewit. Her whistles had shattering effects on solids-and people. "I reckon I could bust that grav-tractor up good. They have resonance crystals in them."

  "Wait until they're not expecting trouble," said Goth.

  "I'm just a sweet little girl," said the Leewit cherubically.

  "Yeah, but they like them sweet, young and tender. They make better eating."

  A few minutes later, the Megair floater began settling toward a rocky plateau. It was rain-swept and gray-green lit, but for Megair 4 it was probably prime real estate. Nikkeldepain wasn't as beautiful as Karres, but it was a long step up on this place. You could see, by the instruments, if not through the rain, that a large number of other craft were converging on the landing ground. It was already quite crowded and off on one edge was a testimony to the Megair Cannibals normal piracy-a junkyard of wrecked Empire ships. On the opposite edge, the Megair spaceport was dominated by a squat hill, which was studded with pill-boxes.

  "They've got at least fifteen different types of space-guns there," said the Leewit professionally, examining the protruding muzzles-most of which were pointed at the Venture. "I recognize some of them."

  Goth peered with narrowed eyes. "Yeah. This is the Cannibal nest, all right. Furnished with their loot."

  "It's a good spot for a lair," said the captain, thoughtfully. "This cluster could be defended quite easily. They'd know where all the rocks are and could put weaponry on the moons. And they could be on any one of twenty planets orbiting five stars. The only way we could get here was with an escort of those Phantom ships. And by all accounts I've heard the Cannibals keep their piracy down to attacks on occasional ships. Not like the Agandar."

  "Yes," said Mebeckey, who had come out of his stateroom and was peering nervously around. "But they've been at it for a lot longer, Captain. And with the Agandar, there was at least a chance of ransom. The Megair pirates eat their catch. Is there nothing we can do?"

  "We'll certainly try to do something," said Pausert.

  "If you'd eaten less of my Wintenberry jelly," said the Leewit, "you'd still be skinny and unappetizing."

  Mebeckey tugged his hair. "How can you be so calm? Don't you understand? They're Cannibals."

  "I have the captain and Goth here. We've been worse messes," said the Leewit stoutly.

  "Actually," said Pausert, "we might learn a thing or two from those incidents. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rain-gear and warm clothing. It's both cold and wet out there. Goth-a word in your ear. You too, Leewit. Off you go, Mebeckey. I know I gave you one of those allweather cloaks I had left over."

  When the xeno-archeologist had gone, Pausert closed the door. "I still don't trust him as far as I can throw him. He has a bad habit of sneaking about. I think we want to keep the Karres stuff under our hats. He's already seen a bit too much, with you arriving. Goth, if you and the Leewit go no-shape… "

  "Won't work, Captain. We need to talk to them, and the Leewit is the only one who can do that for you."

  The smaller blond witch nodded. "But you go no-shape, Goth. We'll tell that old snoop you've gone again."

  Pausert nodded. "A secret ace in the hole. That's good. And don't forget old Vezzarn. He's a good lock-tickler. Now get yourselves some warm gear." The captain pointed at the readout on the control panel. "It really is cold and miserable out there."

  "And they're trying talk to us again, Captain," said Goth. "On the communicator screen." Goth abruptly wasn't there. "I'll get you both something warm and waterproof," said a voice from midair.

  The face staring out of the screen was lean, gray-skinned, red-eyed and feral-looking. When it spoke, its teeth showed. They were distinctly filed into points. The speech came across to the captain as a series of guttural croaks, and an odd set of clicks and a sibilant whistle. But Pausert was not surprised when the Leewit answered in the same fashion.

  "They say we're for coming out and behaving ourselves. Guns are locked on to us. If they have to come and fetch us, we're for eating alive. If we behave and answer their questions they'll let us die first. I said we weren't for eating."

  The speaker appeared to be having trouble swallowing that one. It took it a good few moments before it spoke.

  "It says all life is food. What shall I tell it?"

  "Say
we'll give it indigestion," said Pausert. "Tell it would be very wise to help us fix the damage it did to our ship and let us go."

  There was a longer pause. Then another burst of croaks and clicks. "It wants to know how we know the holy language. And it says we're for coming out now because they will start opening the ship up with lasers if we don't. What do we do, Captain?"

  Pausert took a deep breath. "Go out, I reckon. If they open up with those space-cannon, they can cut the old Venture 's hull open like paper."

  "And then?"

  "I wish I knew. But we'll work it out. We have to," said Pausert with a confidence he did not feel. He could protect them all with the klatha force cocoon that he'd learned to make, except he'd also have to remain at liberty to free them later. But it was plain the Megair Cannibals wanted them alive at least at the moment. They wanted to ask them questions. Well, Pausert had a few himself. And he still had a few tricks up his sleeve. His gambler's instinct said that going out of the Venture was dangerous, but less dangerous than staying here would be. "Tell them we're coming. Tell them the ship is booby trapped, and to leave it alone. And then let's go."

  So they collected the very nervous Mebeckey, and the less nervous Vezzarn. "What about the other young lady?" asked Mebeckey.

  "Gone back where she came from," said Pausert.

  "Ah." Mebeckey looked relieved for a minute. "They'll find her. We should have fought."

  "You leave the decisions to me," said Pausert, aware that something invisible had taken his hand. He gave it a brief squeeze. And he relled the baby vatch. Well, it would probably enjoy them being eaten. After all it described people by taste. He had a feeling that that didn't mean quite the same thing to vatches, though.

  They opened the airlock and lowered the gang-way. Megair 4 was, if anything, more bleak and miserable in reality than it was on the viewscreens. That was quite an achievement, Pausert thought. The gray-skinned Cannibal squad that came across to the Venture at a dogtrot seemed unperturbed by it. Other than small leather loincloths and belts plainly intended for the weaponry that dangled from it, they wore nothing but a layer of wetness. They didn't even seem to notice being wet, let alone the chill breeze. The bulbous things in their hands were plainly guns of some sort, Pausert decided.

  The lead gray-face spoke in their odd code of croaks.

  "What did he say? Come this way, we have a nice fire and hot drinks, while we fix your ship?" said Pausert, with an attempt at a smile.

  "He said 'Meat, walk or be butchered', " said the Leewit

  "Nice people, the Megair Cannibals," said Pausert sardonically.

  "Yeah. Can I whistle at him? Just a little? I've got one you can't actually hear. Does some neat stuff."

  "Save it for whoever sent him."

  The Leewit wrapped her hand in his other one. He had a Karres witch on both sides, now. "You have some pretty good ideas sometimes, Captain," she said.

  Escorted by the gray squad of Megair Cannibals, they walked across towards the pill-box studded hill. As they got closer, the squad leader gave a whistle of his own. A complicated one. It might have been less destructive than the Leewit's, but it did make two massive doors set into the front of the hill slide open. They walked forward into the dim green-lit passage. "Cheerful looking place, isn't it, Captain," said Vezzarn, his sharp little eyes darting about, taking in details.

  The walls were a polished stone, smooth, but with regular panels of intricate carvings to shoulder height. Above that, the constructors seemed to have run out of patience and just roughly hewed it. "I'm surprised they don't try and market it as a vacation destination," said Pausert as they came to a halt in front of yet another massive door. The leader of the squad whistled again, with a slightly different series of notes.

  That door opened. Inside, on couches that looked as if they might be carved from stone, lounged several of the gray skinned ones-only these all wore collars of leather, ornamented with hanging bits of bone, spreading out onto their chests.

  The escort licked their sharp teeth and bowed their heads respectfully.

  The croak and whistle ensued.

  "He says the meat has been brought for the masters of devouring," whispered the Leewit. "He says the little one is for his share."

  "If he tries you can do as much whistling as you please," said the captain quietly.

  One of those who lounged about looked rather like the one who had spoken to them earlier. He grunted something curtly that was plainly a dismissal.

  The squad leader paused briefly and snarled. And then hastily turned away, backed off to the doorway, and waited.

  The high Megair Cannibals stared at them, red-eyed and unblinking. Then one of them spoke imperiously.

  "What's he say?" asked the captain.

  "He says they have waited to capture one of us kind for a long time. We're for answering questions. He wants to know: Why are we keeping them from their prey?"

  "What?"

  The Megair Cannibal leader let loose with another collection of grunts and whistles and a small shriek.

  "He says they're for examining our ship and finding out how we cannot be shot. He says he's for driving us out of the Megair cluster. He says we're for talking, spilling all our secrets. He says they're for destroying us."

  Pausert rubbed his forehead. "Great Patham! Has he ever got the wrong end of the stick. They must think we're the one of the Phantoms. Tell him that, please."

  The Leewit let loose with her own collection of grunts, whistles and shrieks. And got a reply that Pausert guessed the content of by the tone, even before the Leewit translated.

  "He's not for believing us," said the Leewit. "He says put us the fattening pens. They're for examining the ship and finding our secret. And for dining on one of us tonight. Alive."

  Chapter 24

  Goth found no-shape in the rain was actually one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. Light was easy enough to bend around her. But the constant moving raindrops meant that there appeared to be a Goth-shaped piece of rain doing the wrong thing. She had to light-shift raindrops onto it. It was tiring and took a lot of concentration.

  Going inside the Megair fortress was at least a relief from that. Of course no-shape had it's usual problems there too. People didn't know you were there, and the entire burden of avoiding collisions fell on you. Not to mention the fact that nothingness should not leave wet footprints. Fortunately those mingled nicely with the rest of the wet footprints. She seriously considered the possibility of becoming, via lightshift, one of the guards. But it was the Leewit who could understand them and speak their language, not her.

  Besides this place was making her feel really, really weird. As if she was having some kind of hallucination. She worked out what it was, after a time. It was touching the walls. Peculiar… hope. Abject terror. Small furry animals with too many limbs…

  Goth shook herself. She didn't have time for this right now. She held the captain's hand and walked into the chamber full of Megair muck-a-mucks, lounging about and staring.

  She let go of the captain's hand and moved about, exploring the room. Always learn as much about your opponent as possible, Threbus said.

  There was a limited amount to be learned here, other than the fact that the ceiling was quite low. She noticed that the guards had to stoop, slightly. This was plainly just a meeting room. All she could say, feeling the surface of the couches, was that the Megair Cannibals didn't go in for creature comforts much. They were exactly what they looked like. Stone. Carefully indented, polished and carved stone, but still as hard as rock. The only other thing the room contained of interest were vast screens up on one wall. They appeared to show the map of Megair 4 and tiny moving lights-presumably atmospheric craft-moving across its face.

  She listened to the Leewit's translation of the croaks and whistles, and the last comment.

  She was lucky not to be cut when the vast screens shattered and fell into fragments. Looking at the Leewit's face, Goth was sure that i
t had been one of her newest whistles, and that she was quite pleased with it.

  The Megair Cannibals weren't. There was a lot of noise, shouting, croaking and yelling-but the end result was two things. One was that Goth got knocked tail over tea-kettle by a running Megair Cannibal guard. The other was that the prisoners were hustled out of there.

  It took Goth a few moments to get to her feet and try to set off after them, only to discover the heavy doors of the Megair bunker had shut.

  They plainly thought they were under attack, realized Goth. Well, they were. Just not in the way they thought.

  She had a long and fairly boring wait before she could set off to look for the others. That was when things got really complicated, as she realized that she had absolutely no idea where they'd been taken. She was alone inside the Megair mound with the locals running about as if they were a colony of ants, stirred up by a big stick. To make matter worse she couldn't understand a word-or a croak or a click or a whistle-that they were saying. And no-shape meant keeping out of their way. Eventually she got tired of it. She found a quiet corner and light-shifted to look like one of the lordly ones who had questioned them, complete with the thoracic collar of wire and finger-bones. She found the other Megair Cannibals avoided her. That helped in some respects. It just didn't get her any closer to finding the others. She went deeper. Found some strange places-a vast indoor arena-she wouldn't have thought that the Megair Cannibals were in the least interested in the performing arts, as Dame Ethy would have put it-and other rooms with loot that she recognized-a fire control center, plainly using looted computer elements that must have come from ships plying Empire space. A communications center. Other areas were more mysterious. And the lower she went down the ramps the more Megair Cannibals there were with the same collars. After a while it occurred to her why. In most places deeper was where the dungeons were. Here deeper was where it was safer, and warmer-for the more important people. Here, the prisoners would not be deeper… they'd be shallower… or even outside.