The Wizard of Karres

that I will confine myself to quarters so that no one is inconvenienced but me.'

Pausert watched as the panel—with the additions of Trudi and Petey—put their heads together. It seemed that they spoke together for a very long time, and it if seemed long to him, surely it seemed even longer to Vonard.

Finally they all sat back in their chairs. 'Master Vonard,' said Sir Richard, 'pending completion of a three- planet probationary period, I believe you can consider yourself one of us.'

Vonard bowed, and most of the company, including Pausert, broke into applause. And if there was as much relief as acceptance, well, that was only to be expected.

* * *

Whatever else, Vonard Kleesp's joining of the thespian troupe solved one problem for Pausert. Ethulassia left off her aggressive flirtation with the captain. The Dame's enthusiasms in that direction became entirely diverted onto the newcomer in their midst.

'Sure,' sniffed Goth, after Pausert made it a point to mention it to her. 'You don't stand a chance, Captain. You're not a romantic alcoholic, drowning his romantic woes in a bottle—and only to be saved by an even greater romance.'

Pausert was relieved. And decided to say nothing when, the next day, he spotted Goth examining the level of the bottles in the Venture's liquor cabinet.

* * *

'It's a day for new crewmates, it seems,' said Vezzarn, when they caught up with him at dinner and told him about the audition. 'In addition to the usual run of locals looking for adventure, Himbo Petey just snugged in a new tramp freighter that ran out of luck. Four-man crew, already assigned; a new roustabout who's doubling as a barker, a wiring tech—and you can bet he'll be all over the ship—a new cook, and a cargomaster.'

Goth looked up sharply, and Hulik and Pausert exchanged a glance. Every planet a showboat visited invariably produced a few local people who hired on. But the crew of a tramp freighter supposedly down on their luck . . .

That seemed oddly coincidental.

'I don't like it,' growled Pul. 'Think I'll go sniff them over.'

Hantis nodded, and raised an eyebrow at Hulik and Pausert. 'It does seem a bit too convenient, doesn't it?'

'Very,' said Hulik. 'I believe I'll go do some of my own sniffing.'

'What do you think?' Pausert asked the girls.

The Leewit scowled. 'Might be coincidence,' she said, very grudgingly. 'I suppose ships come up short of fuel and cash pretty often in ports like this.'

'But you don't like it,' said Pausert.

Both the Leewit and Goth shook their heads.

'Good. That makes it unanimous. So as soon as I rell a certain something—'

'And in the meantime,' said Goth, looking innocent as a flower, 'girls can get awfully hungry when we're still growing. We'll just see how good a cook the new one is.' And she and the Leewit strolled off, hand in hand.

Hulik looked after them with an expression of reluctant admiration. 'Ah, to be young and reckless again,' she said.

'Now Hulik,' said Pausert, daring to reach out and pat the back of her hand. 'You were never that young.'

His theater training was paying off; he managed to duck, just in time.

* * *

'All of them!' growled Pul. 'All four of them! I could smell 'spy' from yards off. You ought to let me bite them, Hantis.'

When you were being spied on, it was always better to keep on doing things that you'd made habitual. The crew of the Venture always got together for breakfast and supper. Everybody knew they'd arrived together, and still intended to leave together if they ever could, so nobody thought anything of the habit. You ate with your friends; nothing mysterious about that. And the noisy mess tent provided plenty of chatter to cover anything they were talking about.

Pausert shook his head. 'Much as I sympathize, Pul, it's better to know who your enemies are and have them under your eye. If we get rid of these four, whoever their boss is will only send new agents, and this time we might not spot them.'

'We ought to find out who their boss is, don't you think, Captain?' asked Goth.

He nodded. 'Do you think, if we got into the Venture's control cabin, you might be able to find out if they're communicating with someone?'

'Believe so. They're not real bright—they're all even on the same shift. Which means I only need to listen when they're off-shift.'

'They'll probably use a code, though.'

She shrugged. 'A code's a language, too, Captain. We may not have tried it, but I bet the Leewit can use klatha to translate a code.'

'You think?' asked the Leewit, looking suddenly alert.

'We haven't anything to lose by trying,' Pausert agreed.

'And the Venture's still our ship,' Vezzarn said, a little aggressively. 'We still use our staterooms, don't we? We've a right to get into everything there but the holds. No reason why a couple of us couldn't be tinkering with the com to see if we can't get it working, either.'

It wasn't as if they weren't still living in the Venture. After brief forays into the accommodations provided for the unmarried players and workers on the Petey B—which were, essentially, bunkhouses—they'd all decided they wanted their own cabins back. Even if that meant having their sleep interrupted by props heaving and bumping bits and bobs in and out of the holds at all hours.

'Hmm,' said Pausert. 'Vezzarn, how are your scrounging skills?'

The old spacer grinned. 'The best, of course! And I think I know where you're going. You want me to start scrounging com parts, so it looks like we're trying to repair on the cheap and slow.'

'Which will give us a good reason to be in the cabin, and even monitoring chatter if somebody walks in at the wrong time!' said the Leewit with enthusiasm. 'Clumping brilliant!'

Hulik smiled. 'He has his moments. And so do I; if our watchers happen to be ISS, I'll probably know their code anyway.' She sniffed. 'This far out, they're probably still using codes cracked and abandoned a long time ago.'

* * *

The only problem with the plan was that it left everyone but Hantis and Pul with exactly no spare time—and Hantis and Pul were watching the agents in their own ways. Pausert rapidly began to feel like a man holding down three jobs, which, in point of fact, he was. He was an actor, a sideshow operator, and now a com-tinkerer, because it was possible that the agents wouldn't be using standard channels to talk to their boss.

The young witches were doing just as much, if not more, but at least they seemed to be buoyed up on the excitement of it all. That was a good thing, because the Leewit in particular was difficult to manage if she began to get the least bit bored.

The silvery-eyed little vatch elected at this point to be absent, which was aggravating. Pausert could have used the help, even from a vatch.

Or maybe, especially from a vatch. That one big vatch Pausert had half-shredded had neatly translocated the ship and everyone in it not once, but twice, when they were caught between the ISS and the pirates. It hadn't been hugely far, but then, he hadn't specified where he wanted to be. What were a vatch's upper limits on teleporting, he wondered? If he found a vatch big enough—or Silver-eyes got big enough—could he torment or talk the vatch into taking them all the way to the Empress?

On the other hand, would a vatch even understand time and space as Pausert was used to it? He recalled, belatedly, Silver-eyes being intrigued by the notion of linear time—which it apparently considered 'silly.' Pausert