“Do not move, witch friends!” Cheel’s thought told them. “This is for your protection—”
Something settled sluggishly about them, like a heavy thickening of the air. Motion seemed impossible at once. And layer on layer of heaviness still was coming down, though the air remained transparently clear. At the edge of the captain’s vision was a momentary bright flashing as the synergizer rose towards the arched ceiling of the hall. He couldn’t see where it went then or what it did, but a pale glow spread through the upper sections of the hall and the chattering din of instruments gone insane changed in seconds to a pulsing deep hum of controlled power.
Now the vatch shifted closer, turned into a looming mountainous blackness in which dark energies poured and coiled, superimposed on the hall, not blotting it out but visible in its own way along with the hall and extending up beyond it into the body of the ship-planet.
And the vatch was shaking with giant merriment…
Chapter TWELVE
“Witch friend,” Cheel’s thought told the captain, “you and your associates have served your purpose… and now you will never leave in life the medium which has enclosed you. The synergizer is restored to its place, and its controls reach wherever Moander’s did. Our Nuris are again ours, and Manaret is again a ship — a ship of conquest. It has weapons such as your universe has never seen. Their existence was concealed from Moander, and it could not have used them if it had known of them. But the synergizer can use them, and shall!
“Witch friend, we are not allowing Manaret to be restored to our native dimensional pattern. We are the Great People. Conquest is our destiny and we have adopted Moander’s basic plan of conquest against your kind. At the moment our Nuris are hard pressed by your world of Karres and have been forced back among the cold suns. But Manaret is moving out to gather the globes about it again and destroy Karres. Then—”
It wasn’t so much a thought as the briefest impulse. A lock took shape and closed in the same beat of time, and the connection to Cheel’s mind was abruptly sliced off. What Cheel still had to say could be of no importance. What he already had said was abominable, but no great surprise. There’d simply been no way to determine in advance how trustworthy the Lyrd-Hyrier would be after they were relieved of their mutinous robot director. Since that must have been considered on Karres, too, it might be Cheel would not find Karres as easy to destroy now as he believed…
But one couldn’t count on that. And in any case, something would have to be done quickly. That there was death of some kind in this paralyzing heaviness which had closed down on him and his witches, the captain didn’t doubt. He didn’t know what it would be, but he could sense it being prepared.
And that made it a very bad moment. Because he was not at all sure that what could be done on a small scale, and experimentally, might also be done on an enormously larger scale under the pressures of emergency. Or that he was the one to do it. But there wasn’t much choice -
OH, I KNEW IT! I FORESAW IT! the vatch-voice was bellowing delightedly. OH, WHAT A JEWEL-LIKE MIND HAS THIS PRINCE OF THE GREAT PEOPLE! WHAT A DEVASTATING MOVE HE HAS MADE!… WHAT NOW, SMALL PERSON, WHAT NOW?
Carefully, the captain shaped up a mind-image of the grid of a starmap. And perhaps — perhaps — it was a klatha sort of starmap, and that tiny dot on it was then not simply a dot but in real truth the living world of Emris, north of the Chaladoor, goal of the Venture’s voyage. Now another dot on it which should be in empty space some two hours’ flight from Emris — yes, there!
Then a mental view, a memory composite, of the Venture herself, combined with one of the Venture’s control cabin. That part was easy.
And a third view of Goth and the Leewit, as they stood beside him unmoving in the death-loaded, transparent heaviness still settling silently on them all from above… Easier still.
He couldn’t move his head now; but physical motion wasn’t needed to look up at the shifting, unstable mountain of vatch-blackness only he saw here, the monstrous torrents of black energy rushing, turning and coiling in endlessly changing patterns. Slitted green vatch-eyes stared at him from the blackness; vatch-laughter thundered:
YOU DID WELL, SMALL PERSON! VERY WELL! YOU’VE PLAYED YOUR PART IN THE GAME, BUT NO PLAYER LASTS FOREVER. NOW YOU’VE BEEN BEAUTIFULLY TRICKED; AND WE SHALL SEE THE END!
What manner of klatha hooks, the captain thought carefully, were needed to nail down a giant-vatch?
Flash of heat like the lick of a sun… The vatch-voice howled in shock. The blackness churned in tornado convulsions -
Not one hook, or three or four, the captain thought. Something like fifty! Great rigid lines of force, clamped on every section of the blackness, tight and unyielding! Big Windy, for all the stupendous racket he was producing, had been nailed down.
The captain glanced at his three prepared mind-pictures, looked into the seething vatch-blackness. As much as we need for this! Put them together!
YAAAAH! MONSTER! MONSTER—
A swirling thundercloud of black energy shot from the vatch’s mass, hung spinning beside it an instant, was gone. Gone, too, in that instant were the two small witch figures who’d stood at the captain’s right.
And now Manaret, that great evil ship—
We don’t want it here…
Black thunderbolts pouring from the vatch-mass, crashing throughout Manaret. Horrified shrieks from the vatch. The ship-planet shuddered and shook. Then it seemed to go spinning and blurring away from the captain, sliding gradually off into something for which he would never find a suitable description — except that the brief, partial glimpse he got of it was hideously confusing. But he remembered the impression he’d received from Cheel of the whirling chaos which raged between the dimension patterns, and knew the synergizer was taking the only course left open to save Manaret from being pounded apart internally by the detached sections of vatch energy released in it. And in another instant the Worm World had plunged back into the chaos out of which it had emerged centuries before and was gone.
As for the captain, he found himself floating again in the formless grayness which presumably was a special vatch medium, and which by now was beginning to seem almost a natural place for him to be from time to time. The vatch was there, not because it wanted to be there, but because he was still firmly tacked to it by the klatha hooks. It was a much reduced vatch. Over half its substance was gone — most of it dispersed in the process of demolishing Manaret, with which it had disappeared. The captain became aware of slitted green eyes peering at him fearfully from the diminished mass.
DREAM MONSTER, muttered a shaky wind-voice, RELEASE ME BEFORE YOU DESTROY ME! WHAT HORROR AM I EXPERIENCING HERE? LET ME AWAKE!
“One more job,” the captain told it. “Then you can go — and you might be able to pick up a piece of what you’ve lost while you’re doing the job.”
WHAT IS THIS JOB?
“Return me to my ship…”
He was plopped down with a solid thump on the center of the Venture’s control room floor almost before he completed the order. The walls of the room swirled giddily around him -
“Captain!” Goth’s voice was yelling from somewhere in the room. Then: “He’s here!”
There was an excited squeal from the Leewit a little farther off; a sound of hurrying footsteps. And a wind-voice wailing, DREAM MONSTER… YOUR PROMISE!
Struggling up to a sitting position as the control room began to steady, the captain released the klatha hooks. He had a momentary impression of a wild, rising moan outside the ship which seemed to move off swiftly and fade in an instant into unimaginable distance.
* * *
As he came to his feet, helped up part way by Goth tugging with both hands at his arm, the Leewit arrived. Hulik do Eldel and Vezzarn appeared in the doorway behind her, stopped and stood staring at him. By then the walls of the room were back where they belonged. The feeling of giddiness was gone.
“All right, folks!” the captain said quickly and heartily, to
get in ahead of questions he didn’t want to answer just yet. “This has been rough, but I think we can relax…” The viewscreens were a dark blur, which indicated the Venture was in space as she should be, while the screens were still set for close-up planetary scanning. The ship engines were silent. “Let’s find out where we are. It should be north of the Chaladoor—”
“North of the Chaladoor — !” Vezzarn and Hulik chorused hoarsely.
“ — around two hours from Emris.” The captain slid into the control chair, flicked the screen settings to normal space-view. Stars appeared near and far. He turned up the detectors, got an immediate splattering of ship blips from medium to extreme range — a civilized area! “Vezzarn, pick me up some beacons here! I want a location check fastest!”
The spacer hurried towards the communicators, Hulik following. The captain cut in the main drive engines. They responded with a long, smooth roar and the Venture surged into flight. Before departing, the vatch appeared to have thriftily reabsorbed the speck of vatch-stuff it had left in the engine room to nullify drive energies…
“Worm World?” Goth’s urgent whisper demanded. The Leewit was pressed next to her against the chair, both staring intently at him.
“Went pffttt!” the captain muttered from the side of his mouth. “Tell you later—”
They gasped. “You better!” hissed the Leewit, gray eyes shining with a light of full approval the captain rarely had detected in them before. “What you do? That was the scaredest vatch I ever relled!”
“Emris beacons all around, skipper!” Vezzarn announced, voice quavvering with what might have been excitement or relief. “Have your location in a moment—”
The captain glanced at the witches. “Got a number we can call on Emris, to get in contact?” he asked quietly.
They nodded. “Sure do!” said Goth.
“We should be in range. Give it a try as soon as we have our course…”
It seemed almost odd, a couple of minutes later, to be speaking to Toll by a method as unwitchy as ship-to-planet communicator contact. Hulik and Vezzarn had retired to the passenger section again when the captain told them there’d be Karres business coming up. The talk was brief. Toll had sheewashed to Emris from the Dead Suns Cluster just before their call came in, because someone she referred to as a probability calculator had decided the Venture and her crew should be showing up around there by about this time. Karres was still battling Nuri globes but winning handily in that conflict; and they’d realized something had happened to Manaret, but not what.
The captain explained as well as he could. Toll’s eyes were shining much as the Leewit’s as she blew him a kiss. “Now listen,” she said, “all three of you. There’s been more klatha simmering around the Venture lately than you’d normally find around Karres. Better let it cool off! We want to see you soonest but don’t use the Drive to get here. Don’t do anything but stay on course… Captain, a couple of escort ships will meet you in about an hour to pilot you in. Children, we’ll see you at the governor’s spacefield in Green Galaine — oh, yes, and tell the captain what the arrangement is on Emris… Now let’s cut this line before someone taps it who shouldn’t!”
“I just thought,” the captain said to Goth and the Leewit as he switched off the communicator, “we’d better go make sure Olimy’s all right! Come on… I’d like to hear about that Emris business then.”
Olimy, unsurprisingly, was still in his stateroom, aloof and unaffected by the events which had thundered about him. On the way back they stopped to tell Hulik and Vezzarn they’d be making landfall on Emris in a couple of hours, and to find out what the experience of the two had been when they found themselves alone on the Venture. “There was this noise—” Hulik said. She and Vezzarn agreed it was an indescribable noise, though not a very loud one. “It was alarming!” said Hulik. It had come from the control section. They hadn’t tried to investigate immediately, thinking it was some witch matter they shouldn’t be prying into; but when the noise was followed by a complete silence from the forward part of the ship, they’d first tried to get a response from the control section by intercom, and when that failed they’d gone up front together. Except for the fact that there was no one present nothing had changed… the viewscreens showed the familiar rocky slope about them and the rain still pelting down steadily on the Venture. Not knowing what else to do, they’d sat down in the control section to wait… and they hadn’t really known what they were waiting for.
“If you’ll excuse me for saying so, skipper,” said Vezzarn, “I wasn’t so sure you three hadn’t just gone off and left us for good! Miss do Eldel, she said, ‘No, they’ll be back.’ But I wasn’t so sure.” He shook his grizzled head. “That part was bad!”
The captain explained there’d been no chance to warn them — didn’t add there’d been a rather good chance, in fact, that no one ever would come back to the Venture again.
“Then the strongbox went!” reported Hulik. “I was looking at it, wondering what you had inside — and there was a puff of darkness about it, and that cleared, and the box was gone. Vezzarn hadn’t seen it and didn’t notice it, and I didn’t tell him.”
“If she’d told me, I’d’ve fainted dead!” Vezzarn muttered earnestly.
Then the blackness had come… Blackness about the ship and inside it and around them, lasting for perhaps a minute. When it cleared away suddenly, Goth and the Leewit were standing in the control room with them. Everyone had started looking around for the captain then until Goth suddenly announced his arrival from the control room a couple of minutes later…
“Well, I’m sorry you were put through all that,” the captain told the two. “It couldn’t be helped. But you’ll be safe down on Emris within another two hours… Happen to remember just when it was you heard that strange noise?”
The do Eldel checked her timepiece. “It seems like several lifetimes,” she said. “But as a matter of fact, it was an hour and fifteen minutes ago.”
Which, the captain calculated on the way back to the control section, left about forty minutes as the period within which Moander had been buried under his mighty citadel, the Worm World pitched into chaos, and a giant-vatch taught an overdue and lasting lesson in manners. A rather good job, he couldn’t help feeling, for that short a time!
The escort ships which hailed them something less than an hour later were patrol boats of the Emris navy. The purpose of the escort evidently was to whisk the Venture unchecked through the customary prelanding procedures here and guide her down directly to the private landing field of the governor of Green Galaine, one of the four major administrative provinces of Emris.
The captain wasn’t surprised. From what Goth and the Leewit had told him, the Karres witches were on excellent terms with the authorities of this world; and the governor of Green Galaine was an old friend of their parents. The patrol boats guided them in at a fast clip until they began to hit atmosphere, then braked. A great city, rolling up and down wooded hills, rose below; and he leveled the Venture out behind the naval vessels towards a small port lying within a magnificent cream-and-ivory building complex.
“Know this place?” he asked the Leewit, nodding at the semicircle of beautiful buildings.
“Governor’s palace,” she said. “Where we’ll stay…”
“Oh?” The captain studied the palace again. “Guess he’s got room enough for guests, at that!” he remarked.
“Sure — lots!” said the Leewit.
* * *
“The tests,” Threbus said, “show about what we expected. Of course, as I told you, these results reflect only your present extent of klatha control. They don’t indicate in any way what you may be doing six months or a year from now.”
“Yes, I understand that,” the captain said.
“Let me look this over once more, Pausert, to make sure I haven’t missed anything. Then I’ll sum it up for you.”
Threbus began to busy himself again with the notes he’d made on the klatha checks
he’d been running the captain through, and the captain watched his great uncle silently. Threbus must be somewhere in his sixties if the captain’s recollection of family records was correct, but he looked like a man of around forty and in fine shape for his age. Klatha presumably had something to do with that. During the captain’s visit at Toll’s house on Karres, he’d encountered Threbus a few times in the area and chatted with him, unaware that this affable witch was the father of Goth and her sisters or his own long-vanished kinsman. At the time Threbus had worn a beard, which he’d since removed. The captain could see that, without the beard and allowing for the difference in age, there was, as Goth had told him, considerable similarity between the two of them.
This was the morning of the third day since the Venture had landed on Emris. The night before, Threbus had suggested that he and the captain go for an off-planet run today to see how the captain would make out on the sort of standard klatha tests given witches at various stages of development. Off-planet, because they already knew he still had a decidedly disturbing effect on the klatha activities of most adult witches, simply by being anywhere near them; and it could be expected the effect would be considerably more pronounced when he was deliberately attempting to manipulate klatha energies.
Threbus folded his notes together, dropped them into the disposal box of the little ship which had brought the two of them out from Emris, and adjusted the automatic controls. He then leaned back in his chair.
“There are several positive indications,” he said. “But they tell us little we didn’t already know. You’re very good on klatha locks. A valuable quality in many circumstances. Theoretically, you should be able to block out any type of mind reader I’ve encountered or heard about, assuming you become aware of his, her, or its intentions. You have very little left to learn in that area. It’s largely a natural talent.
The Witches of Karres Page 28