The Ship Who Won (42 page)

Ruined! You come from the stars. Why do you not take my

people back to our homeworld? We are effectively dispossessed. We've been ignored since the day we were robbed

by the Flat Ones. No one will notice our absence. Let the

thieves who have used our machinery have it and the husk

that remains of this planet."

"We'd be happy to do that," Keff said, carefully "but

forgive me. Tall, you won't have much in common with the

people of your homeworld anymore, will you? You were

born here. Five hundred generations of your people have

been native Ozrans. Just when it could start to get better,

do you really want to leave?"

"Hear, hear," said Carialle.

One of the amphibioids looked sad and made a

gesture that threw the idea away. The Frog Prince

looked at him. T guess we do not. Truth, I do not, but

what to do?"

"What was your peoples mission? Why did you come

here?"

'To grow things on this green and fertile planet," Tall

signed, almost a dance of graceful gestures, as if repeating

a well-learned lesson. He stopped. "But nothing is green

and fertile anymore like in the old stories. It is dry, dusty,

cold."

"Don't you want to try and bring the planet back to a

healthy state?"

"How?"

Keff touched the small amphibioid gently on the back

and drew Chaumel closer with the other arm. 'The know-how is obviously still in your people's oral tradition. Why

not fulfill your ancestors' hopes and dreams? Work

together with the humans. Share with them. You can fix

the machinery. I agree that you should make contact with

your homeworld, and we'll help with that, but don't go

back to stay. Ask them for technical support and communication. They'll be thrilled to know that any of the colonists

are still alive."

The sad frog looked much happier. "Leader, yes!" he

signed enthusiastically.

"Help us," Keff urged, raising his hands high. "We'll try

to establish mutual respect among the species. If it fails,

Carialle and I can always take you back once we've fixed

the system here."

Chaumel cleared his throat and spoke, mixing sign language with the spoken linga esoterka. "You have much in

common with our lower class," he said. "You'll find much

sympathy among the farmers and workers."

"We know them," Tall signed scornfully. 'They kick us."

Keff signaled for peace.

"Once they know you're intelligent, that will change.

The human civilization on this planet has slid backward to

a subsistence farming culture. Only with your help can

Ozranjoin the confederation of intelligent races as a voting

member."

'That's a slippery slope you're negotiating there, Keff,"

Carialle warned, noticing Plennas shocked expression.

Chaumel, on the other hand, was nodding and concealing

a grin. He approved of Keffs eliding the truth for the sake

of diplomacy.

"For mutual respect and an equal place we might stay,"

the Frog Prince signed after conferring with his fellows.

"You won't regret it," Keff assured him. "You'll be able

to say to your offspring that it was your generation, allied

with another great and intelligent race, who completed

your ancestors' tasks."

'To go from nothing to everything," the Frog Prince

signed, his pop eyes going very wide, which Keff interpreted as a sign of pleasure. 'The ages may not have been

wasted after all."

"Only if we can keep this planet from blowing up," Carialle reminded them. Keff relayed her statement to the

others.

"But what needs to be done to bring the system back to

a healthy balance?" Chaumel asked.

"Stop using it," Keff said simply. "Or at least, stop draining the system so profligately as you have been doing. The

mages will have to be limited in future to what power

remains after the legitimate functions have been supplied:

weather control, water conservation, and whatever it takes

to stabilize the environment. That's what those devices

were originally designed to do. Only the most vital uses

should be made of what power's left over. And until the

frogs get the system repaired, that's going to be precious

little. You saw how much colder and drier Ozran has

become over the time human beings have been here. It

won't be long until this planet is uninhabitable, and you

have nowhere else to go."

"I understand perfectly," Chaumel said. "But the others

are not going to like it."

'They must see for themselves." Plenna spoke up unexpectedly. "Let them come here."

'Tour girlfriend has a good idea," Carialle told Keff.

"Show them this place. The globe-frogs can keep everyone

on short power rations. Give them enough to fly their

chariots here, but not enough to start a world war."

"Just enough," Keff stressed as the Frog Prince went to

make the adjustment, "so they don't feel strangled, but let's

make it clear that the days of making it snow firecrackers

are over."

"Hah!" Chaumel said. "What would impress them most

is if you could make it snow snow\ Everyone will have to

see it for themselves, or they will not believe. The meeting

must be called at once."

The Frog Prince and his companions paddled back to

Keff. "We will stay here to feel out the machinery and

learn what is broken."

Keff stood up, stamping to work circulation back into

his legs.

"And I'll stay here, too. Since there is no manual or

blueprints, Carialle and I will plot schematics of the

mechanism, and see what we can help fix. Cari?"

"I'll be there with tools and components before you can

say alakazam, Sir Galahad," she replied.

"I had better stay, too, then," Plenna said. "Someone

needs to keep others from entering if the silver tower

leaves the plain. She attracts too much curiosity."

"Good thinking. Bring Brannel, too," Keff told Carialle.

"He deserves to see the end of all his hard work. This will

either make or break the accord."

"It will be either the end or the beginning of our world,"

Chaumel agreed, settling into the silver chair. It lifted off

from the platform and slammed away toward the distant

light.

a CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The vast cavern swallowed up the few hundred mages

like gnats in a garden. Each high mage was surrounded by

underlings spread out and upward in a wedge to the rim of

an imaginary bowl with Keff, Chaumel, Plenna, Brannel,

and the three globe-frogs at its center on the platform. All

the newcomers were staring down at the machinery on the

cave floor and gazing at the high platform with expressions

of awe. The Noble Primitive gawked around him at the

gathering of the greatest people in his world. All of them

were looking at him. Keff aimed a companionable slap at

the workers shoulders and winked up at him.

"You're perfectly safe," he assured Brannel.

"I do not feel safe," Brannel whispered. "I wish they

could not see me."

"Whether or not they realize it, they owe you a debt of

gratitude. You've been helping them, and you deserve recognition. In a way, this is your reward."

"I would rather not be recognized," Brannel said definitely. "No one will shoot fire at a target that cannot be

seen.

"No one is going to shoot fire," Keff said. 'There isn't

enough power left out there to light a match."

"What is going on here?" Ilnir roared, projecting his

voice over the hubbub of voices and the hum of machinery. "I am not accustomed to being summoned, nor to

waiting while peasants confer!"

"Why has the silver tower been moved to this place?" a

mage called out. "Doesn't it belong to the East?"

"Why will my items of power not function?" a lesser

magess ofZolaika's contingent complained. "Chaumel, are

you to blame for all this?"

"High Ones, mages and magesses," the silver magiman

said smoothly. "Events over the past weeks have culmi-nated in this meeting today. Ozran is changing. You may

perhaps be disappointed in some of the changes, but I

assure you they are for the better-in fact, they are inexorable, so your liking them will not much matter in the long

run. My friend Keff will explain." He turned a hand toward

the Central Worlder.

"We have brought you here today to see this," Keff said,

pitching his voice to carry to the outermost ranks of mages.

This"-he patted the nearest upthrust piece of conduit-

"is the Core of Ozran."

"Ridiculous!" Lacia shouted down at him from well up

in the eastern contingent. 'The Core is not this thing. This

is a toy that makes noise."

"Do not dismiss this toy too quickly, Magess," Chaumel

called. "Without it you'd have had to walk here. None of

you have ever seen it before, but it has been here, working

beneath the crust of Ozran for thousands of years. It is the

source of our power, and it is on the edge'of breaking

down."

"You've been misusing it," Keff said, then raised his

hands to still the outcry. "It was never meant to maintain

the needs of a mass social order of wizards. It was

intended"-he had to shout to be heard over the rising

murmurs-"as a weather control device! It's supposed to

control the patterns of wind, rain, and sunshine over your

fields. We have asked you here so you will understand why

you're being asked to stop using your items of power. If

you don't, the Core will drain this planet of life faster and

faster, and finally blow up, taking at least a third of the

planetary surface with it. You'll all die!"

"We're barely using it now," Omri shouted. "We need

more than this trickle." A chorus of voices agreed with

him.

'This is the time, when everyone can see the direct

results, to give up power and save your world. Chaumel

has talked to each one of you, shown you pictures. You've

all had time to think about it. Now you know the consequences. It isn't whether or not the Core will explode. It's

when\"

"But how will we govern?" the piping voice of Zolaika

asked. The room quieted immediately when she spoke.

"How will we keep the farms going? If the workers don't

have us in charge of everything they won't work."

'They don't need you in charge of everything, Magess.

Stop using the docility drugs and you'll find that you won't

need to herd them like sheep," Keff said. They'll become

innovators, and Ozran will see the birth of a civilization

like it has never known. You're dumbing down potential

sculptors, architects, scientists, doctors, teachers. The only

thing you'll have to concentrate on," Keff said with a smile,

"is to teach them to cook for themselves. Maybe you can

send out some of your kitchen staff, after you build them

stoves-geothermal energy is available under every one of

those home caverns. You could have communal kitchens

in each one of the farmsteads in a week. After that, you

can discontinue all the energy you use in food

distribution."

Keff urged Brannel to center stage. "Speak up. Go on.

You wanted to, before."

"Magess," Brannel began shyly, then bawled louder

when several of the mages complained they couldn't hear

him. "Magess, we need more rain! We workers could grow

more food, bigger, if we have more rain, and if you do not

have battles so often." At the angry murmuring, he was

frightened and started to retreat, but Keff eased him back

to his place.

"Listen to him!" Nokias roared. Brannel swallowed, but

continued bravely.

"I... the life goes out of the plants when you use much

magic near us. We care for the soil, we till it gently and

water with much effort, but when magic happens, the

plants die."

"Do you understand?" Keff said, letting Brannel retreat

at last. The Noble Primitive huddled nervously against an

upright of the control platform, and Plennafrey patted his

arm. "Your farmers know what's good for the planet-and

you're preventing their best efforts from having any results

by continuing your petty battles. Let them have more

responsibility and more support, and less interference with

the energy flow, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised

by the results."

"You go on and on about the peasants," Asedow

shouted. "We've heard all about the peasants. But what are

they doing here?" The green-clad magiman pointed at the

frogs.

Keff smiled.

'This is the most important discovery we've made since

we started to investigate the problems with the Core.

When Carialle and I arrived on Ozran, we hoped to find a

sentient species the equal of our own, with superior technological ability. We were disappointed to find that you

mages weren't it." He raised his voice above the expected

plaint. "No, not that you're backward! We discovered that

you are human like us. We're the same species. We've

found in you a long-lost branch of our own race."

"You are Ozran?"

"No! You are Central Worlders. Your people came to