The Ship Who Won (35 page)

time. There's a similar clause in our ship's manual, just in

updated language."

Chaumel groaned.

'Then all this time we have been making an enormous

mistake." He appealed to Keffand the image of Carialle. "I

didn't know that we were acting on bad information. All my

life I thought I was following the strictures of the First Ones.

I sought to be worthy of my ancestors. I am ashamed."

Keff realized that Chaumel was genuinely horrified. By

his own lights, the silver mage was an honorable man.

"Well," Keff said, slowly, "you can start to put things

right by helping us."

Chaumel chopped a hand across.

"Your ship is free. What else do you want me to do?"

"Seek out the Core of Ozran and find out what it was

really meant to do, what its real capacity is," Carialle said at

once. "Its possible, although I think unlikely, that you can

retain some of your current lifestyle, but if you are serious

about wanting to rescue your planet and future

generations-"

"Oh, I am," Chaumel said. T will give no more trouble."

'Then its time to redirect the power to its original purpose, as conceived by the Ancient Ones: weather control."

"But what shall we do about the other mages?" Plennafrey asked.

"If we can't convince 'em," Carialle said, "I think I can

figure out how to disable them, based on what our long-gone chronicler said about answerback frequencies. With a

little experimentation, I can block specific signals, no matter how tight a wave band they're broadcast on. The others

will leam to live on limited power, or none at all. It's their

choice."

"We'd employ that option," Keff said quickly when he

saw Chaumels reaction, "only if there is no other way to

persuade them to cooperate."

"And that is where I come in," Chaumel said, smiling for

the first time. "I am held in some esteem on Ozran. I will use

my influence to negotiate, as you say, a widespread mutual

surrender. With the help of the magical pictures you will

show us"-he bowed to Carialle s image-"we will persuade

the others to see the wisdom in returning to the ways of the

Ancient Ones. We must not fail. The size of that gourd..."

he said, shaking his head in gently mocking disbelief.

"I still think you're wrong to leave Brannel behind,"

Keff argued, as Plenna lofted him over the broad plains

toward Chaumels stronghold.

"It is better that only we three, with the aid of Carialle

and her illusion-casting, seek to convince the mages," the

silver magiman said imperturbably. He sat upright in his

chariot, hands folded over his beUy.

"But why not Brannel? I'm not a native. I can't explain

things in a way your people will understand."

Chaumel shook his head, and pitched his voice to carry

over the wind. "My fellows will have enough difficulty to

beheve in a woman who lives inside a wall. They will not

countenance a smart four-finger. Come, we must discuss

strategy! Tell me again what it said about promotion in the

documents. I must memorize that."

The chariots flew too far away even to be seen on the

magic pictures. Brannel, left alone in the main cabin, felt

awkward at being left out but dared not, in the face of

Chaumels opposition, protest. He remained behind,

haunting the ship like a lonely spirit.

The flat magiwoman appeared on the wall beside him,

and paced beside him as he walked up and back.

"I don't know when they'll be coming back," Carialle

said very gently, surprising him out of his thoughts. "You

should go now. Keff will come and get you when he

returns."

"But, Magess," Brannel began, then halted from voicing

the argument that sprang to his tongue. After all, this time

she was not driving him away with painful sounds, but he

was unhappy at being dismissed whenever the overlords

had no need of him. After all the talk of equality and the

promise of apprenticeship following his great risk-taking in

Magess Plennafrey's stronghold, he, the simple worker,

was once more ignored and forgotten. He sighed.

"Now, Brannel." The picture of the woman smiled.

"You'll be missed in the cavern if you don't go. True?"

True."

I

'Then come back when you've finished your work for

the day. You can keep me company while I'm running the

rest of the tapes." The voice was coaxing. "You'll see them

before Magess Plenna and Chaumel. How about that as an

apology for not sending you out with the others?"

Brannel brightened slightly. It would be hard to return

to daily life after his brush with greatness. But he nodded,

head held high. He had much to think about.

"Oh, and Brannel," Carialle said. The flat magess was

kind. She gestured toward the food door which opened. A

plate lay there. 'The bottom layer is soft bread. You can

roll the rest up in it. We call it a 'sandwich.'"

He walked down the ship's ramp with the "sandwich" of

magefood cradled protectively between his hands. The

savory smell made his mouth water, even though it hadn't

been long since he had eaten his most delicious lunch.

How he would explain his day's absence to Alteis Brannel

didn't yet know, but at least he would do it on a full belly.

Associating with mages was most assuredly a mixed

blessing.

"Why not relax?" Chaumel said, leaning back at his ease

in a deeply carved armchair that bobbed gently up and

down in the air. "He will come or he will not. I shall ask the

next prospect and we'll collect High Mage Nokias later. Sit

down! Relax! I will pour us some wine. I have a very good

vintage from the South."

Keff stopped his pacing up and back in the great room

of Chaumels stronghold. Chaumel had decided on the first

mage to whom he would appeal, and sent a spy-eye with

the discreet invitation. Evening had fallen while the three

of them waited to see if Nokias would accept. The

holographic projection table from the main cabin was set

up in the middle of the room. He went over to touch it,

making sure it was all right. Plennafrey watched him. The

young magiwoman sat in an upright chair in her favorite

place by the curtains, hands folded in her lap.

"Its important to get this right," Keffsaid.

"I know it," Chaumel said. "I am cognizant of the risks. I

may enjoy my life as it is, but I love my world, and I want it

to continue after I'm gone. You may find it difficult to convince my feUows of that. I achieve nothing by worrying

about what they will say before I have even asked the

question. The evidence speaks for itself."

"But what if they don't believe it?"

"You leave the rest to me," Chaumel said. He snapped

his fingers and a servitor appeared bearing a tray holding a

wine bottle and a glass. He poured out a measure of amber

liquid and offered it to Keff. The brawn shook his head

and resumed pacing. With a shrug, Chaumel drank the

wine himself.

"All clear and ready to go," Carialle said through Keffs

implant.

"Receiving," Keff said, testing his lingual transmitter,

and let it broadcast to the others.

"I have pinpointed the frequencies of all of Chaumels

and Plennafreys items of power, including their chariots.

They're all within a very narrow wave band. Will you ask

Plenna to try manipulating something, preferably not dangerous or breakable?"

Plenna, grateful for something to do to interrupt the

waiting, was happy to oblige.

"I shall use my belt to make my shoe float," Plenna said,

taking off her dainty primrose slipper and holding it aloft.

She stepped away, leaving it in place in midair.

"But you're not touching the belt," Keff said. "I've

noticed the others do that, too."

Plenna laughed, a little thinly, showing that she, too, was

nervous about the coming confrontation. "For such a small

thing, concentrating is enough."

"Here goes," Carialle said.

Without fanfare, the shoe dropped to the ground.

"Hurrah!" Keff cheered.

'That is impossible," Plenna said. She picked it up and

replaced it, this time with her hand under her long sash.

"Do it again, Cari!"

Carialle needed a slightly more emphatic burst of static

along the frequency, but it broke the spell. The shoe tumbled to the floor. Plennafrey put it back on her foot.

"No answerback, no power," Carialle said simply, in

Keffs ear. "Now all I have to do is be open to monitor the

next magiman's power signals and I can interrupt his spells,

too. I'm only afraid that with such narrow parameters,

there might be spillover to another item I don't want to

shut off. I'm tightening up tolerances as much as I can."

"Good job, Cari," Keff said. He smacked his palms

together and rubbed them.

"You are very cheerful about the fall of a shoe,"

Chaumel said.

"It may be the solution to any problems with dissent-ers," Keffsaid.

A flash of gold against the dark sky drew their attention

to the broad balcony visible through the tall doors. Noldas

materialized alone above Chaumels residence and

alighted in the nearest spot to the door. As their message

had bidden him, he had arrived discreetly, without an

entourage. Chaumel rose from his easy chair and strode

out to greet his distinguished guest.

"Great Mage Noldas! You honor my poor home. How

kind of you to take the trouble to visit. I regret if my message struck you as anything but a humble request."

Nokias's reply was inaudible. Chaumel continued in the

same loud voice, heaping compliments on the Mage of the

South. Keff and Plenna hid behind the curtained doors

and listened. Plenna suppressed a giggle.

"Laying it on thick, isn't he?" Keff whispered. The girl

had to cover her mouth with both hands not to let out a

trill of amusement.

Noldas mellowed under Chaumels rain of praise and

entered the great hall in expansive good humor.

"Why the insistence on secrecy, old friend?" the high

mage asked, slapping Chaumel on the back with one of his

huge hands.

'There was a matter that I could discuss only with you,

Noldas," Chaumel said. He beckoned toward the others'

place of concealment.

Keff stepped out from the curtains, pulling Plenna with

him.

"Good evening. High Mage," he said, bowing low.

Noldas s narrow face darkened with anger.

"What are they doing here?" Noldas demanded.

Chaumel lost not a beat in his smooth delivery of compliments.

"Keff has a tale to tell you, high one," Chaumel said.

"About our ancestors."

Carialle, alone on the night-draped plain a hundred

klicks to the east, monitored the conversation through

Keffs aural and visual implants. Chaumel was good. Every

move, every gesture, was intended to bring his listeners

closer to his point of view. If Chaumel ever chose to leave

Ozran, he had a place in the Diplomatic Service any time

he cared to apply.

She kept one eye on him while running through her

archives. Her job was to produce, on cue, the images

Chaumel wanted. Certain parameters needed to be met.

The selection of holographic video must make their point

to a hostile audience. And hostile Noldas would be when

Chaumel got to the bottom line.

"You are no doubt curious why I should ask you here,

when we spent all day yesterday and all morning together,

High Mage," Chaumel said, jovially, "but an important

matter has come up and you were the very first person I

thought of asking to aid me."

"I?" Noldas asked, clearly flattered. "But what is this

matter?"

"Ah," Chaumel said, and spoke to the air. "Carialle, if

you please?"

"Carialle?" Nokias asked, looking first at Plennafrey,

then at Keff. "Has he two names, then?"

"No, high one. But Keff does come from whence our

ancestors came, and his silver tower has another person in it.

She cannot come out to see you, but she has many talents."

That was the first signal. Using video effects she cadged

from a 3-D program she and Keff watched in port, she

spun the image up from the holo-table as a compBcated

spiral, widening it until it resolved itself as the globe of

Ozran, present day.

Noldas was impressed by Keffs 'magic,' according him a

respectful glance before studying the picture before him.

Chaumel led him through a discussion of current farming

techniques.

At the next cue, Carialle introduced the image of Ozran

as it had been in their distant past.

"... If more attention were paid to farming and conservation," Chaumels smooth voice continued.

Maybe a little video of a close-up look at the farms run

by the four-fingers would be helpful. Pity the images taken

through Keffs contact button were 2-D, but she could coax

a pseudo-holograph out of the stereoscopic view from his

eye implants. She found the image from the dog-peoples

commune, and cropped out images of the six-packs hauling

a clothful of small roots.