The Ship Who Won (36 page)

"... Higher yield.. . water usage ... native vegetation

... advantage in trade ..."

In the seat of honor, Nokias sat up straighten Chaumel s

sally regarding superior trading power among the regions

had struck a chord in the southern magimans mind.

"My people farm the tropical zone," Nokias noted, nodding toward Plennafrey, who was all large eyes watching

her senior. "We harvest a good deal of soft fruit." Chaumel

reacted with polite interest as if it were the first time he'd

heard that fact. "If the climate were warmer and more

humid, I could see a greater yield from my orchards. That

does interest me, friend Chaumel."

"I am most honored. High Mage," the silver magiman

said smoothly, with a half-bow. "As you see, there has been

a deterioration...."

Keeping the holo playing, Carialle ran through the

datafile, looking for specific images relating to yield.

With some amusement, she discovered the video from

her servos search for the marsh flower. Globe-frogs

clunked into one another getting out of the low-slung

robots way. They gestured indignantly at the servo for

scaring them.

"Help us save Ozran," Chaumel was saying, using both

gesture and word to emphasize his concept. "Help us to

stay the destruction of our world by our own hand."

"Help," Carialle repeated to herself, translating the sign

language Chaumel used.

"It would also be good to cease dosing the workers with

forget-drugs so they will be smart enough to aid us in saving our world," Plennafrey spoke up, timidly.

'That I am not sure I would do," Nokias said.

"Oh, but consider it," Plenna begged. 'They are part of

our people. With less power, you will need more aid from

them. All it would take is giving mem the ability to take

more responsibility for their tasks. Help us," she said, also

making the gesture.

Carialle played the video of the first landing, including

the encounters with the Old Ones. Nokias was deeply

impressed.

'This proves, as we said, that the workers are of the

same stock as we. There is no difference," Chaumel con-cluded.

"I will think about it," Nokias said at last.

"Help," Carialle said again. "Now, where else have I

seen that gesture used?" She ran back through her memory. Well, Potria had used it during the first battle over

Keff and the ship, but Carialle was certain she had seen it

more recently-wait, the frogs!

She replayed the servos video, reversing the data string

to the moment when the robot surprised the marsh creatures. The frogs weren't reacting out of animal fright.

'They were talking to us!" Carialle said. She put the

image through IT. The sign language was an exact match.

Intrigued, Carialle ran an analysis of every image of the

amphibioids she had and came out with an amazing

conclusion.

"Keff," she sent through Keffs implant. "Keff, the

globe-frogs!"

"What about them?" he subvocalized. Tm trying to

concentrate on Nokias."

'To begin with, those globular shells were manufactured."

"Sure, a natural adaptation to survive."

"No, they're artificial. Plastic. Not spit and pond muck.

Plastic. And they speak the sign language. I think we've

found our equal, spacefaring race, Keff. They're the

Ancient Ones."

"Oh, come on!" Keff said out loud. Nokias and Chaumel

turned to stare at him. He smiled sheepishly. "Come on,

High Mage. We want you to be prosperous."

'Thank you, Keff," Nokias said, a little puzzled. Favor-ing Keff with a disapproving glare, Chaumel reclaimed his

guests attention and went on with his carefully rehearsed

speech.

Carialle's voice continued low in his ear. 'They're so

easy to ignore, we went right past them without thinking.

That's why the Old Ones moved up into the mountains-to take the technology they stole out of reach of its rightful

owners, who couldn't follow them up there. When the

humans came, they didn't know about the frogs, so they

inherited the power system, not knowing it belonged to

someone else. They thought the globe-frogs were just animals. It would explain why they're so interested in any kind

of power emission."

T think perhaps you're on to something, lady," Keff

said. "Let's not mention it now. We're asking for enough

concessions, and the going is hazardous. We can test your

hypothesis later."

"Its not a hypothesis," Carialle said. But she controlled

her jubilation and went back to being the audio-video

operator for the evening.

'Very well," Nokias said, many hours later. T see that

our world will die unless we conserve power. I will even

discuss an exchange of greater self-determination for

greater responsibility from my workers. But I will let go of

my items only if all the others agree, too. You can scarcely

ask me to make myself vulnerable to stray bolts from disaffected ... ah... friends."

"High Mage, I agree with you from my heart," Chaumel

said, placing a hand over his. "With your help, we can

attain concord among the mages, and Ozran will prosper."

"Yes. I must go now," Nokias said, rising from his chair.

"I have much to think about. You will notify me of your

progress?"

"Of course. High Mage," Chaumel said. He turned to

escort his guest out into the night.

Gasping, Plennafrey pointed toward the curtains. The

others spun to see. A handful of spy-spheres hovering

there flitted out into the window and disappeared into the

night.

"Whose were they?" Chaumel demanded.

"It was too dark to see," Plenna said.

T am going," Noldas said, alarmed. 'These eavesdrop-pers may be the enemy of your plans, Chaumel. I have no

wish to be the target of an assassination attempt."

Escorted by a wary Chaumel, Keff, and Plennafrey, the

golden mage hurried out to his chariot. He took off, and

teleported when he was only a few feet above the balcony.

"I do not wish to distress you, but Nokias is correct

when he says there will be much opposition to our plans,"

Chaumel said. "You would be safe here tonight. I am warding every entrance to the stronghold."

"No, thank you," Keff said, holding Plennafrey's hand.

"I'd feel safer in my own cabin."

Chaumel bowed. "As you wish. Tomorrow we continue

the good work, eh?" In spite of the danger, he showed a

guarded cheerfulness. "Nokias is on our side, friends. I

sense it. But he is reasonable to be afraid of the others. If

any of us show weakness, it is like baring one's breast to the

knife. Good night."

a CHAPTER TWELVE

Keff mounted the platform behind Plennas chair, and

put his hands on the back as the blue-green conveyance

lifted into the sky. He watched her weave a shield and

throw it around them. Chaumel, his duties as a host done,

went inside. The great doors closed with a final-sounding

boom! He suspected the silver mage was sealing every

nook and cranny against intrusion.

Nothing was visible ahead of them but a faint jagged line

on the horizon marking the tops of mountains. Plennas

chair gave off a dim glow that must have been visible for a

hundred Idicks in every direction. The thought of danger

sent frissons up his legs into the root and spine of his body,

but he found to his surprise that he wasn't frightened.

His arms were nudged apart and off the chair back,

making him jerk forward, afraid of losing his balance. He

glanced down. Plennafrey reached for his hands and drew

them down toward her breast, turning her face up toward

his for a kiss. The light limned her cheekbones and the

delicate line of her jaw. Keff thought he had never seen

anything so beautiful in his life.

"Am I always to feel this excited way about you when we

are in peril?" Plenna asked impishly. Keff ran his hands

caressingly down her smooth shoulders and she shivered

with pleasure.

"I hope not," he said, chuckling at her abandon. "I'd

never know if the thrill was danger or love. And I do care

about the difference."

They didn't speak again for the rest of the journey. Keff

listened with new appreciation to the night-birds and the

quiet sounds of Ozran sighing in its sleep. In the sky

around them was an invisible network of power, but it

didn't impinge on the beauty or the silence.

The airlock door lifted, allowing Plennafrey to steer her

chair smoothly into the main cabin. This time she was able

to choose her landing place and parked the conveyance

against the far bulkhead beside Keifs exercise equipment.

Keff handed Plenna off the chair and swung her roughly

into his arms. Their lips met with fiery urgency. Her hands

moved up his back and into his hair.

"Keff, can we talk?" Carialle asked in his ear.

"Not now, Cari," Keff muttered. "Is it an emergency?"

"No. I wanted to discuss my findings of this evening

with you."

"Not now, please." Keff breathed out loud as Plenna ran

her teeth along the tendon at the side of his neck.

Crossly, Carialle gave him a burst of discordant noise in

both aural implants. He winced slightly but refused to let

her distract him from Plennafrey. His thumbs ran down

into the young woman's bodice, brushed over hard nipples

and soft, pliant flesh. He bent his head down to them.

Plennafrey moaned softly. "Carialle won't watch us, will

she?"

"No," Keff said reassuringly. He bumped the control

with his elbow and the cabin hatch slid aside. "Her domain

ends at my door. Pray, lady, enter mine!"

In the circle of his arm, Plenna tiptoed into Keffs cabin.

"It is like you," she said. "Spare, neat, and very handsome. Oh, books!" She picked one off the small shelf by his

bed and lightly fingered the pages. "Of course, I cannot

read it." She glanced up at Keffwith a bewitching dimple

at the comer of her mouth. Her eye was caught by the

works of art hanging on the walls. 'Those are very good.

Haunting. Who painted them?"

"You're standing in her," Keff said, grinning. "Carialle is

an artist."

"She is wonderfully talented," Plenna said, with a

decided nod. "But I like you better."

There was only one answer Keff could give. He kissed

her.

At the end of their lovemaking, Keff propped himself

up on his elbow to admire Plennafrey. Her unbound hair

tumbled around her white shoulders and breast like black

lace.

"You're so lovely," Keff said, toying with a stray strand.

"I will feel half my heart wrenched away when I have to

##-"

"But why should I not come with you to your world?"

Plenna asked, her fingers tracing an intricate design on his

forearm.

"Because I'm in space eighty percent of my life," Keff

said, "and when I'm planet-side I'm seldom near civilization. My usual job is first contact with alien species. It's

very strange and full of so many dangers I couldn't even

describe them all to you. You wouldn't be happy with the

way I live."

"But I am not happy here now," Plenna said plaintively,

clasping her hands together in appeal. "If you take me with

you, I would cede my claim of power to Brannel and keep

my promise to him. There is nothing here to hold me; no

family, no friends. I would be glad to leam about other

people and other worlds."

"Yes, but..."

She touched his face, and her eyes searched his. "We

suit one another, do we not?"

"Yes, but..."

She silenced him with a kiss.

'Then please consider it," she said, cuddling into his

arms. Keff crushed her close to him, lost in her scent, lost

in her.

In the early morning hours, Carialle monitored her

exterior movement sensors until she heard sounds of life

from the marshy area downhill from her bluff. She let

down her ramp and sent her two servo robots forth into

the pink light of dawn. The boxy units disappeared

through the break in the brush and over the edge of the

ridge. Carialle, idly noting a half dozen spy-eyes hovering

at a hundred meters distant, heard clunks and high-pitched squawking as they reached their goal. In a little

while, the servos returned to view, herding before them a

pair of globe-frogs. The amphibioids tried to signal their

indignation, but had to keep paddling on the inside of their

plastic spheres before the boxes bumped into them from

behind. With some effort, the servos got their quarry up

the ramp. Carialle shut the airlock door and puUed up her

ramp behind them.

As the frogs entered the main cabin, Carialle hooked

into the IT, calling up all the examples of sign language

that she and Keff had managed to record over the last few

days.

"Now, little friends," she said, "we're going to see if that

sign you made was a fluke or not." She manifested the

picture of another frog on the side screen at their level,

like them but with enough differences of color and

t. 1.1 fri W iTJL

configuration to make sure they knew it was a stranger.