The Wizard of Karres

'I can see why no one wants this place much,' said Hulik, gazing into the gloom. 'To think I actually wanted to come here.'

'It does slack off sometimes,' said Vezzarn, chuckling. 'I came here with a smuggling consortium. They thought an unpoliced planet sounded just perfect. Well, we were here a week. At the end of that, the captain said it was one of the best planets in the universe to leave.'

The old spacer scanned the area. 'The lattice showboats don't mind. It's a place where there are no port fees, and no debt collectors. And they've got a few acres of dry inside them. More than a few. But no one actually lives here. The fuel companies send in mobile tankers, and sell fuel at a cash-in-advance premium. And that's about all there is.'

'But every planet has some permanent residents—even glorified filling stations like Pidoon.'

Vezzarn shrugged. 'The showboats recruit. They tried to recruit from us, twice. The second time was an armed stand-off. I know the world of the lattice showboats is where every kid in the galaxy thinks they'll run away to, but the truth is they want the showboats and not Vaudevillia. And along the way some people go off to live more normal lives, I guess.'

Pausert looked out at the rain. It was easing slightly. 'Well, we might need to get recruited. We've got air, now. But we've got no fuel, no money and no way out of here.' He patted the console of the old Venture affectionately, almost apologetically. He loved her and he hated the idea of leaving his ship here to rust. 'What were all those tramps and other little vessels doing around the planet, Vezzarn?'

'Food and fuel and drink, I suppose, Captain. You can get fish here, but not a lot else. A small operator can turn a pretty tidy profit out of it, if he's lucky. But it's quite risky to land with no ground-control and bad weather, unless you're a big lattice ship. Even the showboats don't land here more often than they really need to.'

'Picking up atmospheric craft on the detectors, Captain,' said Hulik, warily. 'They could come from the ship we caught a ride down on. They should be here in about three minutes.'

Pausert looked at the display. 'Great Patham! I never thought of them having atmospheric craft on board. I suppose it makes sense. And I suppose if I were that captain, I'd be out looking for the idiots who endangered my ship, too. I hate the idea of shooting at them, but we'd better get the nova guns ready.'

'We could always hide,' said Goth.

'Where?' asked Pausert. 'I mean, what we can see of this place doesn't offer much cover. There doesn't even seem to be any vegetation, never mind a nice deep valley.'

'Light-shift,' said Goth. 'They'll be searching hull-metal on their detectors. When they get closer they'll try for a visual examination. Let's see if I can fool them that this is just an old wreck.'

Pausert nodded. 'It does seem fairer than blowing them out of the sky.'

A few minutes later two aircars dropped through the clouds. Pausert could dimly make out the craft circling the Venture.

'See if you can pick them up on the communicator.'

Hulik put the communicator on search, and a few moments later they heard a voice ' . . . seems to be an old wreck. We've got the position marked down. You can send a team out later to bring it in. We'll go on searching.'

Outside the fliers cut their way away through the misty rain.

The captain took a deep breath. 'You can stand down on the guns. We'll have to get the Venture up on her laterals and move her.'

'Excuse me, Captain, but why?'

'You heard them. They've got the position and they're sending a team out later. We don't want to be here.'

'Perhaps we do,' said Hulik, slowly. 'Perhaps that would solve our problems. They want the 'wreck'? Well, let them have it. You saw what they do with them—weld them into the lattice. They're always recruiting, so we should be able to get ourselves a berth. We can get ourselves and the Venture off this world.'

There was a silence. 'It could work,' said the captain grudgingly. It hurt to think of the old Venture being welded onto the lattice like so much scrap, but it did make sense.

'It's brilliant!' said Goth.

'And the leech won't work because the drive won't be running,' pointed out Vezzarn.

'We're going to join the circus! Yay!' The Leewit bounced cheerfully off the walls.

Pausert took a deep breath. 'All right. What are we doing here, and how long have we been here, and what are we going to do when they find the Venture isn't a wreck?'

Goth grinned. 'I can keep the light-shift up.'

The captain shook his head. 'Not indefinitely, Goth.' He sighed. 'What do you think, Hantis? This mission is about you.'

She gave him her enigmatic smile. Her pointed ears twitched. 'The most important thing is getting to the Empress Hailie. Actually getting there. Not being killed trying. If that means Pul and I must take roles in a human freak show, then we will do that too. If we can get away with it, that is. The men on that lattice ship were very angry. And the captain is right. Goth cannot keep the light-shift going indefinitely.'

'We can do a little disguise work,' said Hulik, 'and make sure that the Venture won't fly until we take a few pieces out of the safe. And maybe deal with the communicator so it won't function. We could claim to have been here for weeks. Have you got any plausible cargo for this place, Captain?'

'Tinklewood fishing poles and some really ugly allweather cloaks, and a few Totisystem Toys. They're what's left of the cargo I set off from Nikkeldepain with. I couldn't sell them anywhere.'

Hulik held up her hands. 'Perfect. This would be the ideal place to bring both. It has got fish in the streams and it has got rain.'

Pausert knew he was beaten. Besides, he didn't have any better ideas. 'There is some paint in the stores. Plenty of mud out there. We can make it look like we've been here a while. I'm going to make it look as if we have fuel, and also that the systems won't work. And somebody find me a lump of ash to put into the spot where I take the main transponder out of the communicator. And we need to think about the story. We all need to sing the same tune, about when we got here, where we're from and why.'

'You let us deal with that,' said Hulik. 'You're too honest and truthful, Captain.'

'I guess someone has to be,' said Pausert, sourly. He got to work on the communicator. 'How do we know that these showboat people won't try any funny stuff? Slaves are still legal in the Empire.'

'A hot set of witches like us should be able to deal with that,' said the Leewit with a grin, and skipped off.

* * *

By the time a dilapidated lifter from the lattice showboat arrived nearly twelve hours later, the Venture looked like a pretty genuine wreck that had been lying there for a fair while.

She wasn't called the Venture any more, either, since they'd used that name while they'd been in orbit around Vaudevillia, appealing for help. She'd gone back to being the Evening Bird, a name Uldune's masters of ship's paper fakery had provided for her run into the Chaladoor.

The lifter, like some gigantic long-legged insect, settled over the body of the Venture. Except for Vezzarn, who was sitting quietly at the nova guns, they all trooped out into the rain and waved at the lifter.

The two people in the lifter gaped at them. They flicked the cockpit open. Captain Pausert noted that the short, rotund, glistening-faced one had a Blythe rifle pointed at them. 'What are you doing here?' the skeletally thin pilot demanded, his sharp-planed face taut with suspicion, his voice harsh.

'This is our ship. We crashed here a couple of weeks ago,' said the captain, as sincerely as he could.

The thin man relaxed visibly. 'You're not from one of the other showboats?'

'No. We're traders with a load of tinklewood fishing rods and allweather cloaks. We had a systems malfunction while we were landing. We haven't been able to fix it. Our communicator got trashed, too.'