The Wizard of Karres

we combined it with disguises.'

Goth thought about it for a moment, then smiled. 'I think so. That's a good idea, Captain!'

'We'll have to hope so. I don't see anything better, in the time we've got. The Imperials should be in boarding range in a few minutes. You go and talk to Hantis and explain things. What about the Leewit?'

'Can look after myself,' scowled the Leewit, gray eyes peering up at him from under lowered brows. 'So long as you keep that smelly little vatch away.'

The captain couldn't rell the little silver-eyed piece of klatha-blackness anywhere. Even if he couldn't detect it, though, he suspected it was still around somewhere.

'I bet you can, brat.' He rumpled the Leewit's hair, which she hated, and ducked around the doorway before she could purse her lips to form one of her supersonic whistles. She could literally bust machinery with them.

* * *

Back in the control room he found Vezzarn, returning from the nova guns. 'They're all ready, Captain. They might be old but I wouldn't want to have them fire on me at this short range, even if those are cruisers.'

'Let's sight them on the nearest of the Imperials. It might remind them of their manners.'

The little old spacer gave a crooked smile. 'I kind of figured on that, Captain. I've been tracking them in with the rear turret. I reckon we could bring the forward turret to bear too, once they're alongside.'

'Do that.'

The communicator buzzed insistently. It was Commodore Fleser of the ISN Malorn. 'Captain Pausert. You will deflect your guns from my ship!' he demanded angrily.

'Commodore Fleser,' replied Pausert in an even tone of voice, 'we've had a lot of pirate trouble. We do not, in fact, have any proof you are who you say you are. So our guns will stay locked onto your vessel. Before we open our airlock we'll put the lock-bar in place, and seal up the access codes. Make a false move and you won't have a command any more. At this range—you might destroy us, but we'll take you with us.'

The Imperial officer looked like he was going to explode himself. 'Over and out,' said Pausert, before the man had a chance to reply.

What fun! squeaked the vatch.

Pausert groaned. That was one complication he could have lived without.

* * *

'You agree, our papers are in order,' said Pausert stiffly. 'You are welcome to inspect our cargo. None of our passengers or crew even resemble these descriptions and holo-plates.' He handed back the pictures of Goth, the Nartheby Sprite Hantis, and the grik-dog Pul. 'You've been misinformed and sent on a wild-goose chase, Commodore.'

Pausert was trying to keep calm. To him, the air in the cabin practically reeked of vatch. He could rell that little quicksilver-eyes in here somewhere.

Bulldog-faced Commodore Fleser in his blue-black gold-braided uniform, of course, would not be able to see the vatch. But he wouldn't be immune to its mischief. At the moment the officer was rather off his stride, knowing his vessel was locked by electromagnetic hull clamps into a death-grip with the Venture. That could change in a vatch-inspired instant, though. From what the commodore had said, the Imperials wanted Karres witches even more than the supposed criminal Hantis.

'We have specific orders from ISS headquarters,' said Fleser, equally stiffly, 'to stop this ship. They are absolutely certain you have these miscreants aboard.'

Pausert hoped the Imperial commodore took the sudden widening of his eyes for a reaction to the mention of the dreaded Imperial Interservice Security . . . and not to the glass of water that the captain could see slowly lofting from his desk. He shrugged. 'Go right ahead and search, Commodore. But I'll be making an official complaint to Duke Abelisson, the Empress' comptroller.'

The vatch was quite capable of creating trouble just for the fun of it. Likely to, in fact. Vatches regarded human space as little more than an aspect of their dreams, and they regarded people as dreamed-up pieces in their games. It hardly mattered to them what happened to the pieces, when the game got boring.

The Imperial hadn't seen the glass. He turned towards the hatch. 'Humph. My men will conduct a thorough search and—'

Pausert practically pushed him through it. 'Well, you must see to them, then! A good commander always leads from the front, sir. Let us take you to it.'

Water trickled down Pausert's back. There had to be some way of dealing with the little menace!

 

CHAPTER 2

Sedmon the Sixth, Daal of Uldune—sometimes called Sedmon of the Six Lives by the witches of Karres— listened silently to the communicator relaying the subradio report from his agent on Emris.

Sedmon bit his knuckle.

Sedmon patted him on the back.

Sedmon sighed in sympathy.

The fourth Sedmon flicked the screen controls to show the star maps of the route between Emris and the Regency of Haile.

The other two Sedmons continued looking out of the one-way windows of the western tower of the mighty House of Thunders, the ancient castle in the highlands south of Uldune's capital city of Zergandol. They knew what the others were doing and thinking anyway. Ruling the web of power hierarchies and fierce business interests that made up the former pirate planet of Uldune was no sinecure. In fact, it would have been too much for most humans. But the hexaperson was the best six people for the job. The telepathically linked clones spoke only because words helped formalize their shared thoughts. Also, it was a good habit. Whichever one was on public duty that day would have to speak to ordinary people.

'A Nartheby Sprite! It would help if we could contact the Wisdoms of Karres.'

'Karres has done its disappearing trick again, unfortunately.'

'No idea where or why?'

'None. But the rumor of the Worm World having destroyed them is almost certainly a falsehood emanating from the ISS.'

'Pausert is in great danger, however. The Agandar's fleet are certainly in hot pursuit.'

The Sedmon left unsaid the fact that Captain Pausert being in danger meant that a certain member of his crew was in danger also. They all knew that. They also knew that it had surprised them to discover just how upsetting that was.

'Not to mention the ISS.'

'Unfortunate about the subradio beeper.'

'It has been policy to have it fitted to all ships assuming new personalities here for near on a century. It is the first time it has served us so ill. The fact that the Agandar's pirates had discovered it, and that the late Jonalo had sold the information to the Imperials is unfortunate. But that is where things stand. We must make the best of it.'

'We're going to have to take action ourselves.'

'I suppose we are the only one we can trust.'

Two of the hexaperson got up and went to the door. It was unnecessary to discuss the mission and who would go. Or to bid the others farewell. They all knew that the Nanite plague had to be stopped. The other four would have to manage without them.

* * *

The Sedmons' ship, Thunderbird, did not look like the vessel belonging to a wealthy, powerful planetary ruler. But then, it wasn't supposed to. The ship did have a number of features that were unusual even for a full-size battleship, and simply unthinkable in a scruffy-looking cargo tramp. Right now, what it had that was important was speed. And also a subradio tracker, fixed to the frequency of a certain signature transmission given out by the engines of the Venture. Even at this range, the signal and direction indicators were giving readouts. Emris, the world from which the Venture had lifted, was three dangerous weeks travel from Uldune, across the zone of space called the Chaladoor. To go around