The Wizard of Karres

The Sedmon stepped around a corner and slid into a convenient alleyway, toggling a button on his collar. The pale blue suit he was wearing became a strident green, and he raised himself up a further two inches with platform soles. His dark complexion he could not alter as easily, but with the addition of a curling beard and moustache he had become a different person.

None of which helped him at all. He hadn't walked more than twenty feet farther down the alley before someone hit him very expertly across the base of the skull.

* * *

When the Sedmon awoke, he was aware that the other hexaperson on the ship was already locking certain key aspects on the Thunderbird and coming to his assistance. He also realized that his wallet, ship-key and chronometer were all missing. Being, as it were, one with the Sedmon who was leaving the Thunderbird, he discovered he was in something of a predicament there, too. The ship must have been under close observation because he hadn't even crossed the tarmac when a groundcar with five heavily armed ISS agents screeched to a halt in front of him. The five heavily armed agents grabbed and forcecuffed the Sedmon.

'What's this all about?' demanded the Sedmon, who had just emerged from the ship.

'Shut up,' said the ISS officer. He held the Sedmon at blaster-point, as two others systematically searched and removed various items from his person that the customs officials had not discovered in their search.

The part of the hexaperson who was attempting to get up in the alley borrowed from his other selves to control his feet. Back on Uldune in the House of Thunders, the Daal got up abruptly from where he had been presiding over a court hearing in the Little Court. He went hastily to join his brothers in the tower. At times like this, physical closeness was comforting if not necessary.

In the office in the port building that the ISS had appropriated for their own use, one of the hexaperson was being strapped into a chair equipped with electrodes. The Daal had such a chair, too. The hexaperson had never anticipated being strapped into it, however. It administered shocks when the instrumentation detected the telltale signs of a lie. It was a very effective way of getting the truth out of a suspect.

'We want to know just how you managed to get back to your ship after you had evaded our agent,' stated the ISS interrogator. 'If you lie, this is what will happen.'

Agony washed through all six of the Sedmons.

 

 

CHAPTER 10

The air in the Venture was getting thin. The trip had taken longer than they'd thought, even with the Sheewash Drive.

'Whatever was dragging at us is back, Captain,' said Goth, tiredly. 'Maybe we should try using that shield you put us in again. That seemed to work.'

'NO WAY!' shouted the Leewit. 'Not never! I couldn't stand it. I won't help if you do that again! I'll whistle at you!'

So they'd plodded on. By the time they got to Vaudevillia, they were gasping almost constantly.

The space around Vaudevillia was fairly crowded—everything from great lattice ships to small tramps. No planetary control greeted them, and the space traffic seemed to be left to look after itself.

'It's a pretty chaotic place, Captain,' said Vezzarn. 'There's no planetary authority. Nor any real ports. No defenses neither. It doesn't need none. Even the most desperate bunch of raiders wouldn't waste their time on Vaudevillia. It's nothing more than a giant gypsy encampment. There are no real towns. You land anywhere. It rains so much that wherever you choose would be muddy and flat, sir.'

'Well, let's try and get some fuel to land with, before we try doing it the hard way. Let's try the communicator. We're low on air and fuel. Surely someone will help.'

They might as well have shouted into space. No one was coming near them; although, by the way some of the tramps were hovering, they were just waiting for the Venture's crew to die.

'Well, if no one will help, we'll have to help ourselves,' said Captain Pausert.

* * *

The lattice ship looked far more like an umbrella that had lost all of its fabric, than a spacecraft. And it was big. Huge was a better word. Gigantic.

Pausert remembered the excitement of one of the great lattice showboats landing on Nikkeldepain; standing, watching in delight as the great metal skeleton became covered in tinsel bright synthasilk, as the showboat transformed an empty fifteen acre field into a paradise of stages, freak shows and strange stalls. He could almost hear the music again . . .

But now he had to concentrate. It was difficult when you were gasping.

This was a seriously tricky bit of ship-handling. It had been something they'd done in his Navy time with one-man interceptors on empty tanker ships. But the Venture was a lot bigger and less maneuverable than a one-man interceptor. The timing was crucial.

Pausert had come as close as he dared to the spiderweblike lattice showboat that they were planning to catch a ride on. There were the remains of several other space-craft hung around in the lattice's skeletal arms. They weren't the crashed hulks of other ships that had tried to ride down on her. Rather, they were cobbled onto the lattice—stores, props, extra living quarters. An old ship made a convenient air-tight addition to the giant lattice.

The lattice showboat began its descent. Pausert used the laterals to begin the drop after it. He closed in on the upper stage. Gravity began to tug at the Venture.

'Stand by the magnetic locks, Vezzarn,' he snapped. They were falling fast now. There were squawks of protest from the lattice showboat—but it was too big and cumbersome to take evasive action. Now, it loomed large and terribly, terribly close. Atmosphere was beginning to buffet the Venture too, making steering even more difficult. Plainly the lattice ship was trying to drop faster to get away from a potential collision.

Everyone was in the control room. If they failed now . . . they could kill themselves. Pausert held that last bit of fuel in the Venture's tanks in reserve against the possibility of impacting the lattice showboat. But of course those on board the lattice ship wouldn't know that.

At the last possible moment—just when collision seemed inevitable—Pausert swung the Venture over on the laterals. 'Now, Vezzarn!'

With a barely audible click, the Venture was magnetically locked onto the upper stage of the lattice showboat.

Never had anything on that stage been quite so enthusiastically applauded.

The lattice ship continued her descent. 'Right,' said Captain Pausert. 'Acceleration couches everyone. We're going to have to leave our host in a hurry. They're going to be plenty mad at us. We'll skip as soon as we're a hundred yards above ground level. Full thrust. We've got a tiny bit of fuel and we're going to use every drop. We really don't want to land right next to them.'

Vezzarn chuckled. 'That's for sure. Judging by the language coming out of that speaker, the captain wants to do some very interesting things to us.'

'I didn't even know some of those words,' said the Leewit gleefully. 'I don't think they even really exist except as cuss words in his own mind. They must be really filthy.'

'If you use so much as one of them, I won't even wash out your mouth with soap,' said Pausert sternly. 'I'll put you into my shield cocoon again.'

She stuck her tongue out at him and made a very rude noise. But she didn't use the words.

Two minutes later, in rain and sheeting lightning, Captain Pausert gave the Venture full thrust. She took off like . . . a damp squib. Then the drive coughed and flung them forward. Pausert frantically tried to see where the hiccupping drive was sending them. Then it died. Using the laterals and the detectors, the captain set the Venture down.

Vezzarn was right. It was pretty flat and yes, it was muddy. The storm hissed and poured rain down at them. But at least there was breathable air out there, even if it was rather moist.