The Ship Who Won (33 page)

him. 'The result will be the same any time you try to lay

hands on me. You will tire before I do."

"You don't know what you're doing to her!" Keff said,

dragging himself upright. He dashed a hand against the

side of his mouth. It came away streaked with blood from a

split lip.

"Ah, yes, but I do. I see pictures," Chaumel said, with a

smile playing about his lips as his eyes followed invisible

images. "No, not pictures, sounds that haunt her mind, distinct, never far from her conscious thoughts-tapping."

The speakers hammered out a distant, slow, sinister

cadence.

Carialle screamed, deafeningly. Keff knew what

Chaumel was doing, exercising the same power of image-making he had used on Keff to intrude on his

consciousness. Against this particular illusion Carialle had

no mental defenses. To dredge up the long-gone memories other accident coupled with Chaumel s ability to keep

her bound in place and deprive her of normal function

might rob her other sanity.

"Please," Keff begged. "I will cooperate. I'll do anything

you want. Don't toy with her like that. You're harming her

more than you could understand. Release her."

Chaumel sat down in Keifs crash couch, hands folded

lightly together. Swathed in his gleaming robes, he looked

like the master of ceremonies at some demonic ritual.

"Before I lift a finger and free my prisoner"-he leveled

his very long first digit at Keff-"I want to know who you

are and why you are here. You didn't make the entire over-lordship of this planet fly circuits for amusement. Now,

what is your purpose?"

Keff, knowing he had to be quick to save Carialles

sanity, abandoned discretion and started talking. Leaving out names and distances, he gave Chaumel a precis

of how they had chosen Ozran, and how they traveled

there.

"... We came here to study you just as I told you

before. That's the truth. In the midst of our investigations

we've discovered imbalances in the power grid all of you

use," Keff said. 'Those imbalances are proving dangerous

directly to you, and indirectly to your planet."

"You mean the absences that occur in the ley lines?"

Chaumel said, raising his arched eyebrows. "Yes, I noticed

how you took advantage of that last lapse. Very, very

clever."

"Keff! They're crawling over my skin," Carialle moaned.

'Tearing away my nerve endings. Stop them!"

"Chaumel..."

"All in good time. She is not at risk."

"You're wrong about that," Keff said sincerely, praying

the magiman would listen. "She suffered a long time ago,

and you are making her live it over."

"And so loudly, too!" Chaumel flicked his fingers, and

Carialles voice faded. Keff had the urge to run to her pillar, throw himself against it to feel whether she was still

alive in there. He wanted to reassure her that he was still

out there. She wasn't alone! But he had to fight this battle

sitting still, without fists, without epee, hoping his anxiety

didn't show on his face, to convince this languid tyrant to

free her before she went mad.

"I've discovered something else that I think you should

know," Keff said, speaking quickly. "Your people are not

native to Ozran."

"Oh, that I knew already," Chaumel said, with his small

smile. "I am a historian, the son of historians, as I told you

when you ... visited me. Our legends tell us we came from

the stars. As soon as I saw you, I knew that your people are

our brothers. What do you call our race?"

"Humans," Keff said quickly, anxious to get the magiman back on track of letting go of Carialles mind. 'The old

term for it was 'Homo sapiens' meaning the 'wise man.'

Now, about Carialle ..."

"And you also wish to tell me that our power comes

from a mechanical source, not drawn mystically from the

air as some superstitious mages may believe. That I also

knew already." He looked at Plennafrey. "When I was your

age, I followed my power to its source. I know more than

the High Mages of the Points about whence our connection comes to the Core, but I kept my knowledge to myself

and my eyes low, having no wish to become a target."

Modestly, he dropped his gaze to the ground.

If he was looking for applause, he was performing for

the wrong audience. Keff lunged toward Chaumel and

pinned his shoulders against the chair back.

"While you're sitting here so calmly bragging about

yourself," Keff said in a clear, dangerous voice, "my partner

is suffering unnecessary and possibly permanent psychic

trauma."

"Oh, very well," Chaumel said, imperturbably, closing

his hand around the shaft of his wand as Keff let him go.

"What you are saying is more amusing. You will tell me

more, of course, or I will pen her up again."

Sight and sensation flooded in all at once. Carialle

almost sobbed with relief, but managed to regain her com-posure within seconds. To Keff, whose sympathetic face

was close to her pillar camera, she said, 'Thank you, sir

knight. I'm all right. I promise," but she sensed that her

voice quavered. Keff looked skeptical as he caressed her

pillar and then resumed his seat.

"Keff says that our power was supposed to be used to

make it rain," Plenna said. "Is this why the crops fail?

Because we use it for other things?"

'That's right," Keff said. "If you're using the weather

technology as you have been, no wonder the system is

overloading. Whenever a new mage rises to power, it puts

that much more of a strain on the system."

"You have some proof of this?" Chaumel asked, narrowing his eyes.

"We have evidence from your earliest ancestors," Keff

said.

"Ah, yes," Chaumel said, raising the notebooks from his

lap. 'These. I have been perusing them while waiting for

you to wake up. Except for a picture of the inside of an odd

stronghold and an image of the Old Ones, I cannot understand it."

"I can only read portions of it without my equipment,"

Keff said. 'The language in it is very old. Things have

changed since your ancestors and mine parted company."

"Its a datafile from the original landing party," Carialle

said. 'That much we can confirm. Humans came to Ozran

on a star-snip called the TMS Bigelow over nine hundred

years ago."

"And where did you get this ... datafile?"

"Its mine!" Plenna said stoutly. She started forward to

reclaim her property, but Chaumel held a warning hand

toward Carialle s pillar. With a glance at Keifs anxious face,

Plenna stopped where she stood.

Tours?" The silver magiman looked her over with new

respect. "I didn't think you had it in you to keep a deep

secret, least of magesses. Your father, Rardain, certainly

never could have."

Plenna reacted with shame to any mention of her late

father. "He didn't know about it. I found it in an old place

after he... died."

"Does that matter?" Keff said, stepping forward and

putting a protective arm around Plennas waist. The tall girl

was quaking. "We're trying to head off what could become

a worldwide disaster, and you're preventing us from finding out more about the problem."

"And this 'datafile' will tell you what to do?" Chaumel

was delicately skeptical.

Carialle manifested her Lady Fair image on the wall.

After a momentary double take, Chaumel accepted it and

occasionally made eye contact with it.

"Given time, I can try to read the tapes," Carialle said.

"In the meantime, Keff can translate the hard copy."

Chaumel settled back. "Good. We have all the time you

wish. The curtain you set about this place will prevent the

others from finding us. In a littie while they will be tired of

chasing shadows and go home. That will leave us without

disturbance."

"Can I use my display screens?"

The silver magiman was gracious. "Use anything you

wish. You can't go anywhere."

Grumbling at Chaumel's make-yourself-at-home attitude,

Carialle spent a few minutes reestablishing the chemical

balances in her system. Two full extra cycles of the

waste-disposal processor, and her bloodstream was clear of

everything but what belonged there. She increased the flow

of nutrients and gratefully felt the adrenaline high fade away.

She assessed the size of the tape cassette Keff held up

and noted that there was one place for a spindle on the

small, airtight capsule. Two other input bays were made to

take tapes as well as datahedrons. Carialle rolled the cap-stan and spindle forward from the rear wall of the player,

narrowed the niche so the tape wouldn't wobble, then

opened the door.

"Ready," she said.

"Here goes nothing at all," Keff said, and slid the tape in.

Carialle closed the door. As she engaged the spindle, the

cassette popped open, revealing the tape, and letting go a

puff of air. Carialle, who had been expecting just that, captured the trace of the thousand-year-old atmosphere in a

lab flask and carried it away through the walls to analyze its

contents.

Slowly, she rolled the tape against the heads, comparing

the scan pattern produced on her wave-form monitor with

thousands of similar patterns.

"Can you read it?" Keff asked.

"We'll see," Carialle said. 'There are irregularities in the

scan, which I attribute to poor maintenance of the recording device that produced it. Of all the lazy skivers, why did

one have to be recording this most important piece of history? It would have been no trouble at all to keep their

machinery in good repair, damn their eyes."

"Did you want it to be easy, lady fair? Do you know, I

just realized I'm hungry," Keff announced, turning to the

others. "Plenna, we've had nothing since last night, and

damned little then. May I buy you lunch?"

The magiwoman turned her eyes toward him with

relief. Her face was beginning to look almost hollow from

strain.

"Oh, that would be very nice," she said thinly. A timid

croak from the side of the weight bench reminded him

Brannel was still with them. He was hungry, too.

"Right. Three coming up. Chaumel?"

"No, very kindly, no," the silver magiman said, waving a

hand, although keeping an eye on him that was anything

but casual. Keff gave instructions to the synthesizer, and in

moments removed a tray with three steaming dishes.

'Very simple: meat, potatoes, vegetables, bread," Keff

said, pointing the food out to his guests.

"Hold it, Keff," Carialle said. "I don't trust our captor."

Keff aimed his optical implants at each plate in turn.

"Uh-huh. Just checking."

'Thank you, lady dear. I count on your assistance," Keff

said subvocally. Placing the first plate on its tray in Plenna's

lap, he handed the second filled dish and fork to Brannel

before he settled on me weight bench to enjoy his own

meal.

Brannel was still staring at the divided plate when Keff

turned back.

"What's the matter?" Keff asked. "Its good. A little

heavy on the carbohydrates, perhaps, but that won't spoil

the taste."

Wordlessly, Brannel turned fearful eyes up to him.

"Ah, I see," Keff said, intuiting the problem. "Should I

try some first to show you its all right? We're all eating the

same thing. Would you like my dinner instead?"

"No, Mage Keff," Brannel said after a moment, glancing

wild-eyed at Chaumel, "I trust you."

If he had any misgivings, one taste later the worker was

hunched over his lunch, shoveling in mouthfuls inexpertly

with his fork. He probably would have growled at Keff if he

had tried to take it away. In no time the dish was empty.

"You packed that away in a hurry. Would you like

another plate? It's no trouble."

Eyes wide with hope, Brannel nodded. He looked guilty

at being so greedy, but more fascinated that "another

plate" was no trouble. As soon as the second helping was in

his hands, he began wolfing it down.

"Huh! Crude," Chaumel said, fastidiously disregarding

the male. "Well, if you want to keep pets ..."

Brannel didn't seem to hear the senior mage. He sucked

a stray splash of gravy off his hairy fingers and scraped up

the last of the potatoes.

"How's my supply ofsynth, Cari?" Keff asked, teasingly.

The worker stopped in the middle of a mouthful. "I'm

teasing you, Brannel," he said. "We're carrying enough

food to supply one man for two years-or one of you for

six months. Don't worry. We're friends."

Plenna ate more sedately. She smiled brightly once at

Keff to show she enjoyed the food. Keff patted her hand.

"Bingo!" Carialle said, triumphantly. "Got you. Gentle-men and madam, our feature presentation."

A wow, followed by the hiss of low-level audio, issued

from her main cabin speakers. Carialle diverted her main

screen to the video portion of the tape. On it, a distant,

spinning globe appeared.

'The scan is almost vertical across the width of the tape,"

Carialle explained. 'Very densely packed. You could measure