The Ship Who Won

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 of Zolaika'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 culminated 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 Ozran a thousand years ago aboard a ship called the Bigelow. That's the reason why I could translate the tapes and papers they left behind. The language is an ancient version of my own. No, Carialle and I still managed to achieve our goal. We have found our equal race.»

«Where?» someone shouted. Keff held up his hands.

«You know all about the Ancient Ones and the Old Ones. You know what the Old Ones looked like. There are images of them in many of your strongholds. Your grandparents told you horror stories, and you've seen the holographs Chaumel had me play for you from the record tapes saved by your ancestors. But you've never seen the Ancient Ones. You know they built the Core of Ozran and founded the system on which your power has been based for ten centuries. These,» he said, with a triumphant flourish toward the Frog Prince and his assistants, «are the Ancient Ones.»

«Never!» Ferngal cried, his red face drawn into a furious mask.

Over shouts of disbelief, Keff blasted from the bottom of his bull-like chest:

«These people have been right here under your nose for ten centuries. These are the Ancient Ones who invented the Core and all the items of power.»

The murmuring died away. For a moment there was complete silence, then hysterical laughter built until it filled the vast cavern. Keff maintained a polite expression, not smiling. He gestured to the Frog Prince.

The amphibioid stepped forward and began to sign the discourse he had prepared with Keff's help. It was eloquent, asking for recognition and promising cooperation. The mages recognized the ancient signs, their eyes widening in disbelief. Gradually, the merriment died down. Every face in the circle showed shock. They stared from Tall Eyebrow to Keff.

«You're not serious, are you?» Nokias asked. Keff nodded. «These are the Ancient Ones?»

«I am perfectly serious. Chaumel will tell you. They helped me—directed me—on how to make temporary repairs to the Core. It was overheating badly. It'll take a long time to get it so it won't blow up if overused. I couldn't do it by myself. I've never seen some of these components before. Friends, this machine is brilliant. Human technology has yet to find a system that can pull electrical energy out of the solid matter around it without creating nuclear waste. What you see here at my side is the descendant of some of the dandiest scientists and engineers in the galaxy, and they've been living in the marshes like animals since before your people came here.»

«But they are animals,» Potria spat.

«They're not,» Keff said patiently. «They've just been forced to live that way. When the Old Ones moved to the mountains you call your strongholds, they robbed the frog-folk of access to their own machinery and reduced them to subsistence living. They are advanced beings. They're willing to help you fix the system so it works the way it was intended to work. You've all seen the holo-tapes of the way Ozran was when your ancestors came. Ozran can become a lush, green paradise again, the way it was before the Old Ones appropriated their power devices and made magic items out of them. They passed them on to you, and you expanded the system beyond its capacity to cope and control the weather. It's not your fault. You didn't know, but you have to help make it right now. Your own lives depend upon it.»

«Hah! You cannot trick me into believing that these trained marsh-slime are the Ancient Ones!» Potria laughed, a harsh sound edged with hysteria. «It's a poor joke and I have had enough of it.» She turned to the others. «Do you believe this tale?»

Most mages were conferring nervously among themselves. Keff was gratified that only a few of them cried out, «No!»

«You say we should share,» Asedow said, «but these so-called Ancient Ones might have their own agenda for its use.»

«They were here first, and it is their equipment,» Keff said. «It is only fair they have access now.»

«They could hardly use it worse than we have,» Plennafrey shouted daringly.

«What has become of the rest of our power?» Ferngal asked.

«The turbines were overheating. We've turned them down to let them cool off,» Keff explained. «There's enough power for normal functions. Nothing fancy. It's either that, or nothing at all, when the system blows up. You'll just have to learn to live with it.»

«I won't 'just live with it.' How can you stop me?» Asedow asked obnoxiously.

«Shut up, brat, and listen to your betters,» the old woman named Iranika called out.

«Who is with me?» Potria called out, ignoring the crone. «We've been insulted by this stranger. He claims he has stopped our power for our benefit, but he is going to give it to marsh-creatures. He wants to rule Ozran with that skinny wench at his side and Chaumel as his lackey!»

«Potria!» Nokias thundered, spinning his chariot in midair to face her. «You are out of order. Asedow, back to your place.»

«Friends, please,» Chaumel began.

«You give more consideration to a fur-face than to one of your own, Nokias,» Asedow taunted. «Perhaps you'd rather be one of them—powerless, and fingerless!»

He started to draw up power to form one of his famous smoke clouds. All he could generate was a puff. Keff could see him strain and clench his amulet, trying to find more power. The cloud grew to the size of his head, then dissipated. Asedow panted. Nokias laughed.

«To me, Asedow!» Potria called. «We must work together!» Her chariot flew upward, out of its place in the bowl. Asedow, Lacia, Ferngal, and a handful of others joined her in a ring. At once, a lightning bolt rocketed from their midst. It would have struck the edge of the platform but for the thin shield Chaumel threw up.

«This is thin,» he said to Keff. «It will not hold.»

Nokias, Zolaika, Ilnir, and Iranika flew down from their places toward the platform.

«This means trouble,» Nokias called. «How much power is there left?»

«Not much beyond what it takes to run your chariots,» Keff said.

«They can pervert that, too,» Zolaika warned. «See!»

Recognizing the beginnings of a battle royal, many of the other mages turned their chairs and headed for the exit. The chariots started to falter, dipping perilously toward the rows of turbines as the combined will of the dissidents drew power away from them. Many turned back and crowded over the platform, fighting for landing space.

«I will stop them,» Tall said, his huge hands clenched over the belt-buckle amulet.

«No,» Keff said. «If you turn off the power, all these mages will fall.»

«I will end this,» Zolaika said. «Brothers and sisters, to me.» At once, Nokias, Ilnir, and a cluster of other magifolk added their meager strength to that of the senior magess. Accompanied by straining sounds from the generators, she built a spell and threw it with all the force left in her toward the ring of dissidents.

Cries of fear came from the fleeing mages, whose chairs faltered like fledgling birds. The great chamber rumbled, and infant stalactites cracked from the ceiling. Sharp teeth of rock crashed to the platform. The mages warded themselves with shields that barely repelled the missiles. Keff jumped away as a three-foot section of rock struck the standard next to him. It bounced once and fell over the side, clattering down into the midst of the machinery.

In the circle of dissidents high up in the cavern, Potria and her allies held out their hands to one another. Keff could see bonds of colored light forming between them, one ring for each mage or magess that joined them.

«Problem, Keff,» Carialle said. «They've reestablished their connection to the Core's controls.»

«They are pulling,» Plenna said, grabbing Keff's arm. «They're pulling at the Core, trying to break the barrier holding the power down—they've done it!»

«Tall, stop them!» Keff shouted.

«No can,» the amphibioid semaphored hastily. «Old, broken.»

«Coming on full now,» Carialle's voice informed him.

With a mighty roar, the generators revved up to full force. The mages whose chariots were limping toward the exit hurtled out of the cavern as if sling-shot. Keff groaned as he smelled scorched silicon. He and the frogs hadn't been able to do more than patch the fail-safes. Now they were melted and beyond repair.

«As your liege I command you to cease!» Nokias shouted at the dissidents.

«You do not command me, brother,» Ferngal jeered. He raised his staff and aimed it at Nokias. A bolt of fire, surprising even its creator in its size and intensity, jetted toward Nokias. The golden mage dodged to one side to avoid it. His chair, also oversupplied by the Core, skittered away on the air as if it were on ice. It was a moment before he could control it. In that short time, Ferngal loosed off several more bolts. They all missed but the last, which took off one of Nokias's armrests. Fortunately, the golden mage's arms were raised. He was readying a barrage of his own.

Lacia had engaged Chaumel. The two of them exchanged explosive balls of flame that grew larger and larger as each realized that the Core had resumed transmission. Dissidents dive-bombed the platform. With admirable calm and dead aim, Chaumel managed to keep them all from getting any closer.

«Stop!» Keff yelled. «The more power you use the closer we come to blowing up!»

With an eldritch howl, Potria swooped down at Keff, taloned fingers stretched put before her. He saw the red lightning forming between them and dove under the low console. Brannel and the frogs were already huddled there. Tall Eyebrow stood with his back to his companions, protecting them. Keff wished for a weapon, any kind of weapon. He saw his faux-hide toolkit, hanging precariously near the edge of the platform, anchored only by the edge of a chair that had landed on it. He rose to his hands and knees, and scrambled out of his hiding place, shielded by the cluster of chariots.

With power restored, Brochindel the Scarlet chose that moment to lift off in an attempt to flee the battle going on over his head. Keff threw himself on his belly with one hand out. He managed to grab one centimeter of strap by one joint of one hooked finger. Potria saw him lying there exposed, and screamed, coming around in the air and diving in anew. Wincing at the weight of the tool bag, Keff hoisted it up and dragged it into the lee of the console. He turned out the contents in search of a weapon. Hammers, no. Spanners, no. Aha, the drill! It had a flexible one-meter bit.

«The knight shall have his sword,» Carialle said. «Get 'er, Sir Keff.»

His fingers scrabbled on the chuck, trying to get the bit loose. Potria, her power overextended by the immediacy of the Core, threw a ball of fire that left a molten scar in the platforms surface. Keff bounced up as she passed and snapped his erstwhile sword-blade out. He smacked Potria on the back of the hand. She dropped her amulet, but it fell only into her lap.

«You . . . you peasant!» she screamed, for lack of a better epithet. «You struck me!»

Plennafrey hurried to Keff's side. The Frog Prince had her belt buckle, but she still possessed her fathers sash. Working the depressions with her long fingers, she formed a thin shell of protection around the two of them and the console. Potria veered upward when her target changed, and retreated, but not until Plennafrey poked a small hole in the shield. She scooped up a chunk of fallen rock and threw it after the pink-gold magess. It struck Potria in the back of the arm, provoking a colorful string of swear words as, this time, the magess lost her grip on her power object. She swooped down to retrieve it before it fell into the machinery.

«Good throw, Plenna!» Keff said, hugging her with one arm.

«Conservation of energy,» Plenna said brightly, grinning at Keff.

Asedow zoomed in, his mace at the ready. Keff ducked flat to the floor, avoiding the smoke-bubble bombs, then sprang up. With a flick of his improvised epee, he engaged Asedow and disarmed him, flinging the mace away into the void. Swearing, Asedow reversed. He glanced down at the spinning engines, and felt among the robes at his chest. He uncovered a small amulet and planted his fingers in it.

«Damn!» Carialle said. «I don't have a record for that one.»

Fortunately, Asedow didn't use it immediately. Too soon, Potria reappeared over the edge of the platform, her teeth set.

«I just wanted to say farewell,» she said, her eyes shining with a mad light. «I'm going on a frog hunt! Are you with me, Asedow!»

«I am, sister!» the green mage chortled. «Our new overlords will be so surprised we came to visit!»

Sounds of alarm erupted from underneath the console. Tall emerged, signaling frantically. Potria, as a parting gesture, threw a handful of scarlet lightning at him. Tall shielded almost automatically, and went on gesturing, panic-stricken.

«My people,» he repeated over and over. «My people!»

«We have to stop them!» Keff said. Plennafrey broke the bubble around them, and the three headed for her chair.

«I will guard our friends,» Chaumel said, making his way across the platform toward them. Ferngal threw forked lightning, aiming for the silver and golden mages at once. Chaumel ducked, and it sizzled over his head. A second later, he had a thin and shining globe of protection raised around himself and the console, withstanding the attacks of the dissidents.

Plennafrey lifted off the platform. Asedow and Potria were already most of the way to the tunnel. Suddenly, half a dozen chariots loomed over them and dropped into their path, cutting them off. Jaw set grimly, Keff hung on. Tall clutched Plennafrey around the knees as she tried to evade the others, but there were too many of them.

«Traitor!» Lacia screamed, peppering them with thunderbolts.

«Upstart!» Ferngal shouted at Plennafrey. «You don't know your place, but you will learn! Together—now!»

The young magiwoman set up a shield, but spells from six or more senior mages tore it apart like tissue paper. Fire of rainbow hues consumed the air around them. An explosion racked the chariot beneath them. Keff, blinded and choking, felt himself falling down and down.

Something springy yet insubstantial caught him just a few meters above the tops of the generators. When his eyes adjusted again, Keff looked around. A net of woven silver and gold bore him and the others upward. Scattered on the surface of the machinery were the pieces of Plennafrey's chariot. It had been blasted to bits. Plenna herself, clutching Tall, was in a similar net controlled by Chaumel and Nokias. Ferngal and the others were halfway down the cavern, turning to come in again for another attack.

«Are you all right?» Chaumel asked them, helping them back onto the platform.

«Yes,» Keff said, and saw Plenna's shaky nod. «The generators are running out of control. We have to slow them down.»

Tall kicked loose from Plenna's arms and hurried over to the console. Using the amulet, he flicked switches and rolled dials, but Keff could see that his efforts were having little effect. Ferngal and the others were almost upon them. A bolt of blue-white lightning crackled between him and the console, driving him back. Bravely, the little amphibioid threw himself forward. Keff interposed himself between Tall and the dissidents, ready to take the brunt of the next attack.

«That's enough of this!» Carialle declared loudly. Suddenly, the power items stopped working. The dissidents' chariots all slowed down, even dipped. Everyone gasped. Lacia clutched the arms other chair.

«Stop this attack at once!» Keff roared, flinging his arms up. «The next thing we turn off will be your chairs! If you don't want to fall into the gear-works, cease and desist! This isn't helping your cause or your planet!»

Furious but helpless, Ferngal and the others drew back from the platform. With as much dignity as he could muster, Ferngal led his ragged band out of the cavern.

«Nice work, Cari,» Keff said.

«I wasn't sure I could select frequencies that narrow, but it worked,» Carialle said triumphantly. «They won't fall out of the air, but that's it for their troublemaking. I'm not turning their power items on again. Tall can do it someday, if he ever feels he can trust them.» Keff glanced at the globe-frog, who, in spite of the small burns that peppered his hide, was working feverishly over the console. The turbines slowed down with painful groans and screeches, and resumed a peaceful thrum.

«I doubt it will be soon,» Keff said. Plennafrey grabbed his arm.

«We have to stop Potria,» Plenna said urgently. «She's going to kill the Ancient Ones and she doesn't need power to do it. She's mad. If she can fly to where they are, that's enough.»

Keff smote himself in me forehead. «I've been distracted. We have to stop them right away.»

«She's gone mad,» Nokias said. «I will go.» The golden chair lifted off the platform.

«I will help, Mage Keff,» Brannel volunteered, emerging from his hiding place.

«We've got to follow her, Chaumel,» Keff said, turning to the silver magiman. «Can you take us, too?»

«Not to worry,» Carialle said cosily in Keff's ear. «She's out here. In the snow. Swearing.»

«Carialle stopped her,» Keff shouted. Nokias turned his head, and Keff nodded vigorously. The others cheered, and Plenna threw herself into his arms. He gave her a huge hug, then dropped to his knees beside Tall. The other two globe-frogs had come out from beneath the console to aid their chief. They all acted alarmed.

«Can I help?» Keff asked.

«Big, big power, stored,» Tall signed, pointing to the battery indicator. «Made by them,» he gestured toward the departed Ferngal and his minions. «Must do something with it, now!»

«A glut in the storage batteries?» Keff said. He could see the dials straining. The others, who knew from long use what the moods of the Core felt like, wore taut expressions. «What can you do? Can you discharge it?»

Tall nodded once, sharply, and bent over the controls with the amulet clutched in his paws.

On the surface, Carialle's fins rested on an exposed outcropping of rock not far from the entrance. She watched with some satisfaction as Potria shook, then pulled, then kicked her useless chariot. Asedow lay unconscious on a snowbank where he'd fallen when his chair stopped. The pink-gold magess hoisted her skirts and tramped through the permafrost to his. It wouldn't function, either. She kicked it, kicked him, and came over to apply the toes of her dainty peach boots to Carialle's fins.

«Hey!» Carialle protested on loudspeaker. «Knock that off.»

Potria jumped back. She retreated sulkily to her chair and seated herself in it magnificently, waiting for something to happen.

Something did, but not at all what Potria must have had in mind. Carialle detected a change in the atmosphere. Power crept up from beneath the surface of the planet, almost simmering up through solid matter. Instead of feeling ionized and drained, the air began to feel heavy. Carialle checked her monitors. With interest, she observed that the temperature was rising, and consequently, so was the humidity.

«Keff,» she transmitted, «you ought to get everyone out here, pronto.»

«What's wrong?» the brawn's voice asked, worriedly.

«Nothing's wrong. Just . . . bring everyone topside. You'll want to see this.»

She monitored the puzzled conversation as Keff gathered his small party together for the long flight to the surface. By the time they appeared at the chimney entrance, clouds were already forming in the clear blue sky.

Plennafrey rode pillion on Chaumel's chair with the three globe-frogs clinging to the back while Keff and Brannel shared the gold chair with Nokias. Nokias's remaining followers straggled behind. The group settled down beside Carialle's ramp. Potria, her nose in the air, ignored them pointedly.

«What's so important, Cari?» Keff asked after a glance at Asedow to make sure the man was alive.

«Watch them,» Carialle suggested. The Ozrans were all staring straight up at the sky. «It's not important to you, but it is to them. In fact, its vital.»

«What's happening?»

«Just wait! You nonshells are so impatient,» Carialle chided him playfully.

«The air feels strange,» Brannel said after a while, rubbing a pinch of his fur together speculatively with two fingers. «It is not cold now, but it is thick.»

The crack of thunder startled all of them. Sheet lightning blasted across the sky, and in a moment, rain was pummeling down.

As soon as the first droplets struck their outstretched palms, Chaumel and the others started shrieking and dancing for joy. A few of the mages gathered in handful after handful of the cold, heavy drops and splashed them on their faces. Plennafrey grabbed Keff and Brannel and whirled them around in a circle.

«Rain!» she cried. «Real rain!»

Under his wet, plastered hair, the Noble Primitive's face was glowing.

«Oh, Mage Keff, this is the best thing that has ever happened to me.»

In the center of their little circle, the three globe-frogs had abandoned their cases and stood with their hands out, letting the water sluice down their bodies.

«Thank you, friends,» Chaumel said, coming over to throw soaked sleeves over their backs. «Look how far the clouds spread! This will be over the South and East regions in an hour. Rain, on my mountaintop! What a treasure!»

«This is what'll happen if you let the Core of Ozran run the way it was meant to,» Keff said. Plenna gave him a rib-cracking hug and beamed at Brannel.

«This welcome storm will convince more doubters than any speeches or caves full of machinery,» Nokias said, coming to join them. «More of these, especially around planting season, and we will have record crops. My fruit trees,» he said proudly, «will bear as never before.»

«Ozran will prosper,» Chaumel said assuredly. «I make these promises to you now, and especially to you, my furry friend: no more amputations, no more poison in the food, no more lofty magi sitting in their mountain fastnesses. We will act like administrators instead of spoiled patricians, eating the food and beating the farmers. We will come down from the heights and assume the mantle of our . . . humanity with honor.»

Brannel was wide-eyed. «I never thought I would live to be talked to as an equal by one of the most important mages in the world.»

«You're important yourself,» Keff said. «You're the most intelligent worker in the world, isn't he, Chaumel?»

«Yes!» Chaumel spat water and wiped his face. «My friend Nokias and I have a proposition for you. Will you hear it?»

Nokias looked dubious for a moment, then silent communion seemed to reassure him. «Yes, we do.»

«I will listen,» Brannel said carefully, glancing at Keff for permission.

«Ozran will need an adviser on conservation. Also, we need one who will liaise between the workers and the administrators. It will be a position almost equal to the mages. There will be much hard work involved, but you'll use your very good mind to the benefit of all your world. Will you take it?»

Brannel looked so pleased he needed two tails to wag. «Oh, yes. Mage Chaumel. I will do it with all my heart.»

«Shall I tell him now?» Plenna whispered in Keff's ear. «He can have my sash and my other things when I come away with you. Tall Eyebrow already has my belt.»

«Um, don't tell him yet, Plenna. Let it be a surprise. Uh-oh, Cari,» Keff subvocalized. «We still have a problem.»

«I'm ready for it, sir knight. Bring her in here.»

«Now, friends,» Nokias said, wringing out one sleeve at a time. «I am enjoying this rain very much, but I am getting very wet. Come back to my stronghold, where we may watch this fine storm and enjoy it from under a roof.» He beckoned to Brannel. «Come with us, fur-face. You have much to learn. Might as well start now.»

Brannel, hardly believing his good fortune, mounted the golden chair's back and prepared to enjoy the ride. Nokias gathered his contingent, including the recalcitrant Potria, and Asedow, who was coming to with all the signs of a near-fatal headache.

«Go on ahead,» Keff said. «We've got some things to take care of here.»

Carialle's Lady Fair image was on the wall as Keff, Plennafrey, Chaumel, and the trio of globe-frogs came into the cabin. At once, she ordered out her servos, one with a heavy-duty sponge-mop, and the other with a shelf-load of towels.

«There, get warmed up,» she said sweetly. «I'm making hot drinks. Whether or not you've forgotten, you were still standing on top of a glacier with wet feet.»

Keff stepped out of his wet boots and went into his sleeping compartment. «Come on, Chaumel. I bet you wear the same size shoes I do. Everybody make themselves at home.»

Plennafrey kissed her hand lovingly to Keff. He kissed his fingers to her and winked.

«Oh, Plenna,» Carialle said with deceptive calm. «I've got some data I wanted to show you.» Keff's crash-couch swung out to her hospitably as the magiwoman approached. «Sit down. I think you need to see these.»

When Keff and Chaumel appeared a few minutes later, freshly shod, Plennafrey was sitting with her head in her hands. The Lady Fair «sat» sympathetically beside her, murmuring in a soothing voice.

«So you see,» Carialle was saying, «with the mutation in your DNA, I couldn't guarantee your safety during prolonged space travel. And Keff couldn't settle here. His job is his whole life.»

Plenna raised a tear-streaked face to the others.

«Oh, Keff, look!» The young woman pointed to the wall screen. «My DNA has changed over a thousand years, Carialle says. And my blood is too thin—I cannot go with you.»

Keff surveyed the DNA charts, trying to make sense of parallel spirals and the data which scrolled up beside them. «Cari, is it true?» he subvocalized.

«I wouldn't lie to her. No one can guarantee anyone's complete safety in space.»

«Thank you, lady dear, you're the soul of tact— How terrible,» he said out loud, kneeling at Plenna's feet. «I'm so sorry, Plenna, but you wouldn't have been happy in space. It's very boring most of the time—when it isn't dangerous. I couldn't ask you to endure a lifetime of it, and truthfully, I wouldn't be happy anywhere else.»

«I am glad this is the case,» Chaumel said, examining the charts and microscopic analysis on Carialle's main screen. From the look in the mage's eye, Keff guessed that perhaps he had been eavesdropping on their private channel. «You cannot take such a treasure as Magess Plennafrey off Ozran.»

Standing before the magiwoman, he took her hand and bowed over it. Plennafrey looked startled, then starry-eyed. She rose, looking up into his eyes tentatively, like an animal that might bolt at any moment. Chaumel spoke softly and put out a gentle hand to smooth the tears from her cheeks.

«I admire your pluck, my dear. You are brave and resourceful as well as beautiful.» He favored her with a most ardent look, and she blushed. «I would be greatly honored if you would agree to be my wife.»

«Your . . . your wife?» Plenna asked, her big, dark eyes going wide. «I'm honored, Chaumel. I . . . of course I will. Oh!» Chaumel raised the hand he was holding to his lips and kissed it. Keff got up off the floor.

«Listen up, sir knight. This fellow could give you some pointers,» Carialle said wickedly. Chaumel aimed a small smile toward Carialle's pillar and returned his entire attention to Plennafrey.

«We will share our power, and together we will teach our fellow Ozrans to adapt to our future. Our society will be reduced in influence, but it will be greater in number and scope. The Ancient Ones can teach us much of what we have forgotten.»

«And one day, perhaps, our children can go into space,» Plenna said, turning to Keff and smiling, «to meet yours.» Leaning over, she gave Keff a sisterly peck on the cheek and moved into the circle of Chaumel's arm.

Over the top of her head, Chaumel winked.

«And now, fair magess,» he said, «I will fly you home, since your own conveyance has come to grief.» Beaming, Plennafrey accompanied her intended down the ramp. He handed her delicately onto his own chariot, and mounted the edge of the back behind her.

«That man never misses a trick,» Carialle said through Keff's implant.

«Thank you, Cari,» Keff said. «Privately, in a comparison between Plenna and you as a lifelong companion, I'd choose you, every time.»

«Why, sir knight, I'm flattered.»

«You should be flattered,» Keff said with a smirk. «Plenna is intelligent, adaptable, beautiful, desirable, but she knows nothing about my interests, and in the long transits between missions we would drive one another crazy. This is the best possible solution.»

Chaumel's well-known gifts for diplomacy and the unexpected treat of the thunderstorm began to bear fruit within the next few days. Mages and magesses began to approach Keff and the globe-frogs in the cavern to ask if there was anything they could do to help speed the miracle to their parts of Ozran. Spy-eyes were everywhere, as everyone wanted to see how the repairs progressed.

The greatest difficulty the repair crew faced was the sheer age of the machinery. Keff and Tall rigged what they could to keep it running, but in the end the Frog Prince ordered a halt.

«We must study more,» Tall said. «Given time, and the printout you have made of the schematic drawings, we will be able to determine what else needs to be done to make all perfect. The repairs we have made will hold,» he added proudly. «There is no need to beg the homeworld for aid. I would sooner approach them as equals.»

«Good job!» Keff said. «We'll take our report home to the Central Worlds. As soon as we can, we'll come back to help you to finish the job. I expect that by the time we do, between you and the Noble Primitives, you'll teach the mages all there is to know about weather management and high-yield farming.»

«The fur-faces will show them how to till the land and take care of it. We do not retain that knowledge,» Tall said with creditable humility. «Brannel is our friend. We do need each other. Together, we can fulfill the hopes of all our ancestors. Others will take us up and back to the Core after this,» the Frog Prince assured them. «Many are protecting us at all times. You've done much in helping us to achieve the respect of the human beings.»

«No,» Keff said, «you did it. I couldn't convince them. You had to show them your expertise, and you did.»

Tall signaled polite disbelief. «Come back soon.»

Carialle and Keff delivered Tall and his companions back to Brannel's plain for the last time. The globe-frogs signed them a quick good-bye before disappearing into the brush. Five spy-eyes trailed behind them at a respectful distance.

Chaumel and Plennafrey arrived at the plain in time to see Keff and Carialle off.

«You've certainly stirred things up, strangers,» Chaumel said, shaking hands with Keff. «I agree there's nothing else you could have done. My small friends tell me that shortly Ozran would have suffered a catastrophic explosion, and we would all have died without knowing the cause. For that, we thank you.»

«We're happy to help,» Keff said. «In return, we take home data on a generation ship that was lost hundreds of years ago, and plenty of information on what's going to be one of the most fascinating blended civilizations in the galaxy. I'm looking forward to seeing how you prosper.»

«It will be interesting,» Chaumel acknowledged. «I am finding that the certain amount of power the Ancient Ones have agreed to leave in our hands will be used as much to protect us from disgruntled workers as it will be to help lead them into self-determination. Not all will be peaceful in this new world. Many of the farmers are afraid that their new memories are hallucinations. But,» he sighed, «we brought this on ourselves. We must solve our own problems. Your Brannel is proving to be a great help.»

Plennafrey came forward to give Keff a chaste kiss. «Farewell, Keff,» she said. «I'm sorry my dream to come with you couldn't come true, but I am happier it turned out this way.» She bent her head slightly to whisper in his ear. «I will always treasure the memory of what we had.»

«So will I,» Keff said softly. Plenna stepped back to stand beside Chaumel, and he smiled at her.

«Farewell, friends,» Chaumel said, assisting the tall girl down the ramp and onto his chariot. «We look forward to your return.»

«So do we,» Keff said, waving. The chair flew to a safe distance and settled down to observe the ship's takeoff.

«They do make rather a handsome couple,» Carialle said. «I'd like to paint them a big double portrait as a wedding present. Confound their combination of primrose and silver—that's going to be tricky to balance. Hmm, an amber background, perhaps cognac amber would do it.»

Keff turned and walked inside the main cabin. The airlock slid shut behind him, and he heard the groaning of the motor bringing the outer ramp up flush against the bulkhead. The brawn clapped his hands together in glee.

«Wait until we tell Simeon and the Xeno boffins about the Frog Prince and his tadpole courtiers on the Planet of Wizards,» Keff gloated, settling into his crash-couch and putting his feet up on the console. He intertwined his hands behind his head. «Ah! We will be the talk of SSS-900, and every other space station for a hundred trillion klicks!»

«I can't wait to spread the word myself,» Carialle said with satisfaction as she engaged engines and they lifted off into atmosphere. «We did it! We may be considered the screwball crew, but we're the ones that get the results in the end . . . Oh damn!»

«What's wrong?» Keff asked, sitting up, alarmed.

Carialle's Lady Fair image appeared on the screen, her face drawn into woeful lines.

«I forgot about the Inspector General!»