“Loop the loop,” suggested Goth, staring fascinatedly into the screen.
The rock flashed up and around in a smooth, majestic three-mile loop and stood steady in midair again — steady as a rock.
“Anything else?” he offered.
“Can you do anything with it?”
“Anything I’ve tried so far. Ask for a tough one!”
Goth considered, glanced up at the little moon, high in the northern sky by now. “How about putting it on the other side of the moon?”
“All right,” said the captain. He clicked his tongue. “Wait a minute. We’d better not try that!”
“Why not?”
He glanced at her. “Because we don’t know just what the vatch stuff can do — and because the moon’s scheduled to come crashing down on the pole some time in the future here. I’d hate to have it turn out that we were the ones who accidentally knocked it down!”
“Patham!” exclaimed Goth, startled. “You’re right! Give the rock a boost straight out into space then!”
And the rock simply disappeared. “Guess it’s out there and traveling,” the captain said after a few seconds. “Plenty of power there, all right!” He chewed his lip, frowning. “Now I’ll try something else…”
Goth didn’t inquire what. She looked on, eyes watchful, as he shifted the view back to the area immediately about the ship. A big tree stood on the rim of the rise to the north. He brought it into as sharp a focus as he could, sensed the vatch device move close to the tree as he did it. The device remained poised there, ready to act.
He gave it a silent command, waited.
But nothing happened. After half a minute he turned his attention to a small shrub not far from the tree. The patch of blackness slid promptly over to the shrub. As he began to repeat the command, the shrub vanished.
Goth made a small exclamation beside him. “Time move?” she asked.
“Yes,” said the captain, not at all surprised she’d guessed his intention. He cleared his throat. “I’m very much afraid that won’t do us any good, though.”
“Why not? Patham, if—”
“Tried to move the big tree into the future first, and it didn’t go. Just not enough power for that, I guess… Let’s try that medium-sized one nearer to us—”
There wasn’t enough vatch power around to move the medium-sized tree into the future either. The black patch did what it could. As the captain formulated the mental command, the tree was ripped from the ground. As it toppled over then, they could see the upper third of its crown had disappeared.
The vatch device was of no use to them that way. Adding the speck on guard in the engine room to it would make no significant difference — apparently shifting objects through time required vastly more power than moving the same objects about in space. What level of energy it would take to carry the Venture and her crew back to their own time was difficult to imagine…
“Something might have gone wrong anyway,” the captain said, not quite able to keep disappointment out of his voice. “We don’t know enough about those things… Better quit playing around now. I want to have everything back as it was before the vatch shows up again.”
He brought the unit of vatch energy as close to the ship as the viewscreens permitted first. At that distance both of them relled it. Goth’s face became very intent for perhaps half a minute; he guessed she had all her klatha antennae out, probing for other indications. Then she shook her head. “Can’t spot it!” she said. “Know it’s there because it rells, that’s all.”
Neither was there anything in her current equipment which would let her direct the energy about as the captain had been doing. That might require the ability to recognize it clearly as a prior condition. She hadn’t heard of witches who did either, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any.
The captain described its pseudo-appearance. Goth said the vatches themselves were supposed to be put together in much the same way. “Thought of anything else you can do with it yet?”
He hadn’t. “Somewhere along the line it might come in handy to know the stuff can be manipulated,” he said. “Especially if the vatch doesn’t suspect it.” He shifted the screens, added, “Right now we’d better use it to get that cloud pack back before it drifts apart!”
The thunderstorm, left to itself, had turned gradually on an easterly course; but the vatch device checked it and drew it back towards the Venture. Some minutes later they saw the wall of rain advancing on them in the viewscreen and shortly the ship was again enveloped in a steady downpour.
It was an hour or so before dawn when the captain was aroused from an uneasy half-sleep on the couch by Goth’s buzzer signaling an alert from the control desk. He relled vatch at once, glanced over at the open door to her cabin and coughed meaningfully. The buzzer sound stopped. He laid his head back on the cushions and tried to relax. It wasn’t too easy. The vatch indications weren’t strong, but the next moments might bring some unpredictable new shift in their situation.
However, nothing happened immediately. The impressions remained faint, seemed to strengthen a trifle, then faded almost to the limits of perceptibility. Goth stayed quiet. The captain began to wonder whether he was still sensing the creature at all. Then suddenly it came close, seemed to move in a circle about them, drew away again. There was a brief, distant rumble of the wind-voice.
It went on a while. The klatha entity hung around, moved off, returned again. The captain waited, puzzled and speculating. There was something undecided in its behavior, he thought presently. And perhaps a suggestion of querulous dissatisfaction in the occasional mutterings he picked up.
He cleared his throat cautiously. The vatch hadn’t addressed him directly since it realized something was preventing it from sensing his thoughts. It might suspect it was something he had done or assume there was a block of unknown type between them which also would keep him from understanding it. Possibly — if it hadn’t been able to work out a solution to the Worm World problem, which seemed indicated by the way it was acting — it would be useful to reopen communication with it. But he’d have to try to avoid offending the monster, which apparently was easy enough to do with vatches. Under the circumstances, that probably would be disastrous now.
He cleared his throat again. It seemed fairly close at the moment.
“Vatch?” he said aloud.
He had an impression that the vatch paused.
“Vatch, can you hear me?”
A vague faint rumble — it might have been surprise or suspicion rather than a response to the question. Then gradually the vatch grew closer… very close, so that it seemed to loom like a mountain of formless blackness in the night above the ship, the rain washing through it. Once again the captain had the impression that from some point near the peak of that mountain two great, green, slitted eyes stared at him. And he became aware of something else… Goth’s comment about the probable makeup of vatches was true. This gigantic thing seemed to consist of swirling torrents of black energy, pouring up and down through it, curved and intermingled as they slid past and about each other in tight patterns of endlessly changing intricacy. The scraps of vatch power it had left here on Karres to hold them secure during its absence might have been simply flecks of itself.
“There is a way Moander can be destroyed,” the captain told the looming blackness.
The rumbling came again — perhaps a stirring of annoyance, perhaps a muttered question.
“You need only take us and this ship and the synergizer to the other Karres,” the captain said. “To the Karres of Moander’s time…”
The vatch was silent now, staring. He went on. The witches on the other Karres had a way to break the power of the Worm World’s ruler if they were given the synergizer. They had abilities and knowledge neither he nor anyone else on the ship at present possessed — and that was what was required to beat Moander. Transferring them to that Karres would be the winning move, the way to end the long game -
The blackness st
irred. Vatch laughter exploded deafeningly about the captain, rolled and pealed. The ship shook with it. Then a great wind-rush, fading swiftly. The vatch was gone…
Goth slipped out of her cabin as the captain swung around and stood up from the couch. “Don’t know what good that did!” he said, rather breathlessly. “But we might see some action now!” He switched on the room lighting.
Goth nodded, eyes big and dark. “Vatch is going to do something,” she agreed. “Like to know what, though!”
“So would I.” He’d already made sure the Manaret synergizer’s strongbox was still standing in its place against the wall. It had occurred to him he might have sold the vatch on the importance of getting that potent device to the Karres of their time without giving it enough reason to take them and the Venture along with the synergizer.
Another thought came suddenly. “Say, we’d better look inside that box!”
But when he opened the box, the synergizer was there. He locked it up again. Goth suggested, “Vatch might have gone to Karres-now first to figure out what they’d do with it if they got it!”
“Yeah.” The captain scratched his head. He hadn’t much liked that wild gust of laughter with which the thing departed. Some vatchy notion had come to it while he was talking — and about half its notions at least spelled big trouble! He checked the time, said, “We’ll just have to wait and see. Night’s about over…”
They sat before the screens, watched the air lighten gradually through the steady rainfall, waited for the vatch to return and speculated about what it might be up to. “There’ve been times just recently, child,” the captain observed, “when I’ve wished you were safely back on Karres with your parents and Maleen and the Leewit! May not be long now before we’re all there.”
“Uh-huh. And if they’re set to jump the Worm World, may not be so safe there either!” Goth remarked.
“There’s that.”
“Anyway,” she said, “if I weren’t keeping an eye on you, you’d likely as not be getting into trouble.”
“Might, I suppose,” the captain agreed. He looked at the chronometer. “Getting hungry? Sitting here won’t hurry up anything, and it’s pretty close to breakfast time.”
“Could eat,” Goth admitted and got out of her chair.
They found their passenger and the crewman wrapped up in their blankets on the floor of the outer section of the control compartment, soundly asleep. Before settling down for the night, the do Eldel had brought sleep pills from her stateroom; and Vezzarn had asked for and received a portion. The captain felt the two might as well slumber on as long as they could, but they came groggily awake while he was preparing breakfast and accepted his invitation to come to table.
They were halfway through breakfast when the Leewit arrived on the Venture…
* * *
The captain and Goth had a few seconds’ warning. He’d been wondering what he could say to their companions to prepare them for the moment when things suddenly would start happening again. It wasn’t easy since he had no idea himself of just what might happen. They were both basically hardy souls though, and, with their backgrounds, must have been in sufficiently appalling situations before. Like Hulik, Vezzarn now appeared to be facing up stoically to the fact that he was caught in a witchcraft tangle where his usual skills couldn’t help him much, which he couldn’t really understand, and from which he might or might not emerge safely. The probability was that Vezzarn, as he’d sworn, wouldn’t panic another time. He gave the captain a determinedly undaunted grin over his coffee, remarked that the viewscreens indicated the day would remain rainy, and asked what the skipper would like him to be doing around the ship the next few hours.
As the captain was about to reply, he became aware of a sound. It seemed very far off and was a kind of droning, heavy sound, a steady humming, with bursts of other noises mixed in, which could barely be made out in the humming, but which made him think at once of the vatch. This commotion, whatever it was, was moving towards him with incredible speed. A glance at the faces of Hulik and Vezzarn, who sat at the table across from him, told the captain it was not the sort of sound physical ears could pick up; their expressions didn’t change.
He did not have time to look around at Goth, who’d left the table for a moment, and was somewhere in the room behind him. As distant as it seemed when he first caught it, the droning swelled enormously in an instant approaching the Venture’s control compartment in such a dead straight line that the captain felt himself duck involuntarily, as if to dodge something which couldn’t possibly be dodged. The accompanying racket, increasing equally in volume, certainly was the vatch’s bellowing wind-voice but with an odd quality the captain had never heard before. The notion flashed through his mind that the vatch sounded like a nearly spent runner, advancing in great leaps to keep ahead of some dire menace pressing close on his heels, while he gasped out his astonishment at being so pursued.
Then the droning reached the control compartment — and stopped, was wiped out, as it reached it. An icy pitch-blackness swept through the room and was gone. For a moment the captain had relled vatch overwhelmingly. But that was gone, too. Then he realized he could still hear the monster’s agitated voice, now receding into distance as swiftly as it had approached. In an instant it faded completely away.
As it faded, Goth said, “Captain!” from across the room behind him, and Hulik made a small, brief, squealing noise. Twisting about, half out of his chair, the captain froze again, staring at the Leewit.
Toll’s youngest daughter was on the floor in the center of the room, turning over and coming up on hands and knees. She stayed that way, blond hair tangled wildly, gray eyes glaring like those of a small, fierce animal, as her head turned quickly, first towards the captain, then towards Goth, hurrying towards her.
“Touch-talk! Quick!” the Leewit’s high child-voice said sharply, and Goth dropped to her knees next to her. The captain heard the scrape of chairs, quick footsteps, glanced back and saw Vezzarn and Hulik hastily leaving the compartment section, returned his attention to the witch sisters. Goth had pulled the Leewit around and was holding her against herself, right palm laid along the side of the Leewit’s head, her other hand pressing the Leewit’s palm against her own temple. They stayed that way for perhaps a minute. Then the Leewit’s small shape seemed to sag. Goth let her down to the floor, drew a long breath, stood up.
“Where did… is she going to be all right?” the captain inquired hoarsely.
“Huh? Sure! That was Toll,” Goth told him, blinking absently at the Leewit.
“Toll?”
“Holding on and talking through the Leewit.” Goth tapped the side of her head. “Touch-talk! Told me a lot before she had to go back to Karres-now…” She glanced about, went to the stack of folded blankets used by Hulik and Vezzarn during the night, hauled them out of the comer and started pulling them apart. “Better help me get the Leewit wrapped in five, six of these before she comes to, Captain!”
Joining her, the captain glanced at the Leewit. She was lying on one side now, eyes closed, knees drawn up. “Why wrap her in blankets?” he asked.
“Spread them out like so… Vatch took her over the Egger Route. She’ll throw three fits when she first wakes up — most everyone does! Route’s pretty awful! Won’t last long, but she’ll be hard to hang on to if we don’t have her wrapped.”
They laid the Leewit on the blankets, began rolling her up tightly in them. “Cover her head good!” Goth cautioned.
“She won’t be able to breathe—”
“She isn’t breathing now,” Goth told him, with appalling unconcern. “Go ahead that’s the way to do it!”
By the time they were done, the bundled-up non-breathing Leewit looked unnervingly like a small mummy laid away for a thousand-year rest. They knelt on the floor at either end of her, Goth holding her shoulders, the captain gripping her wrapped ankles. “Can cut loose any time now!” Goth said, satisfied.
“While we’re wait
ing,” said the captain, “what happened?”
Goth shook her head. “First off, what’s going to happen. The Leewit mustn’t hear that because she can’t block a vatch. They’re coming for us. Don’t know when they’ll make it, but they’ll be here.”
“Who’s coming?”
“Toll and the others. Whoever they can spare. Can’t spare too many though, because they’re already fighting the Worm Worlders. They’re at the Tark Nembi place — the Dead Suns Cluster, where I thought it might be — trying to work through to Manaret. Right now Karres is stuck in a force-web tangle, with so many Nuri globes around you can’t look into space from there—”
It sounded like an alarming situation, but Goth said the witches had their new weapons going and figured they could make it. They’d had a plan to use the Manaret synergizer, which would have made their undertaking much less difficult; but time was running out, and they’d given up waiting for Olimy to arrive with the device or report his whereabouts. They had to assume he’d been trapped and was lost. But now that they knew what had happened, they were throwing everyone available on the problem of tracing out the Egger Route section the vatch had broken into the distant past. Toll still had a line on the Leewit, though a tenuous one, so they’d know exactly to what point to go. When they arrived, they’d reverse and take the Venture with everyone and everything on it back to Karres-now.
“They can move the whole ship over the Route?”
“Sure. Don’t worry about that! You could move a sun over the Route except it’d nova before it got anywhere. If they get to us quick enough, that’ll be it.”
“The vatch…”
“Looks to me,” Goth said, “like the vatch got the idea backwards. You said get the synergizer to the other Karres, to the witches that can use it. So instead it brought a Karres witch back to the synergizer.”
“The Leewit?” said the captain, astonished.
“Can’t figure that either yet!” Goth admitted. “Well, it’s a vatch—”
The Witches of Karres Page 25