«Thank you. Hem! As I said, I wished to make my connection to the Core greater with harm to none. I have some ancient documents that I am sure hold the key to the power of the Core, but I cannot read them.» She appealed to both brain and brawn. «I dared not ask anyone for help, lest they take away my small advantage. Perhaps you might help me?»
«Documents?» Keff perked up. He rose and paced around the cabin. «Documents possibly written by the Ancients? Will you let me see them? I'm a stranger; I have no reason to rob you. I'm also very good with languages. Will you trust me?» He stopped at Plennafrey's chair and took her hand.
«All right,» Plennafrey said. She looked lovingly up into his eyes. «There is no one else I would rather trust.»
«She's completely out other league in this game,» Carialle said in Keff's ear. «What a pity there isn't a place on this nasty planet for nice guys . . . We have one problem,» she said aloud. «I can't lift tail from where I'm sitting, and at present, there's a surveillance team of overgrown marbles flying around my hull.»
«Where are Chaumel and the others?» Keff asked.
Carialle consulted her monitors, reanimating the globe. The enormous mass of purple had thinned away, leaving single points scattered along the crisscrossing lines. «Everyone's gone home except a few who are hanging around Chaumel's peak.»
«I am sure they will be looking for me in my stronghold,» Plenna said resignedly. «All is lost.»
«We need a conspirator,» Keff said. «And I know just the fellow.»
«Who? I told you all the others would steal my documents, and then you will be forced to read for them.»
Keff's eyes twinkled. «He's not a mage. Cari, can you get me out of here unobserved through the cargo hatch? I'm going to go enlist Brannel.»
«Who is Brannel?» Plenna asked, trailing behind Keff and Carialle as they headed toward the cargo hold.
«He's one of the workers who lives in the cave out there,» Keff said, pointing vaguely outward.
«A four-finger? You wish to entrust one of Klemay's farmers with secrets of the Core of Ozran?»
«You don't know what's in your files,» Carialle said. «Might be a book of recipes from the Dark Ages. Listen, Magess.» Carialle's image stopped in the hold as Keff began to move containers out of the way. Plennafrey trotted to a halt to avoid bumping into her. «We need help. Something very wrong is happening to your world and I think it has been going bad since your ancestors were babies. Your documents are the first piece of real information we've heard about. Brannel can do what none of us can: he can go in and out of your house without being noticed by the other magimen.»
«Cari?» Keff gestured at the larger boxes blocking the ladder to the hatch. Service arms detached from the walls and began to stack and move them to other shelves. «I'm also going to have to jump down three meters. You'll have to create a diversion.»
«Leave that to me,» Carialle said.
She led the magiwoman back toward the main cabin. «Now, we're going to have some fun.»
Devoting screens around the main console to three of her external cameras for Plenna's benefit, Carialle tuned into the eye-spheres, the service door, and the main hatchway.
They watched the eyes cluster as Carialle let down her ramp and slid open her airlock to disgorge a servo. The low robot rolled down onto the plateau and trundled off into the bushes with the cluster of spy-eyes in pursuit. The door slid closed.
«Go!» Carialle said, pitching her voice over the speaker in the cargo hold. She slid open the door just a trifle.
Leaving some skin behind, Keff slipped out the narrow opening, and dropped to the ground in a crouch. He ran down the hill and across the field toward where the workers were gathering at the cave mouth for their daily toil.
Trusting Keff to take care of that half of the arrangements on his own, Carialle watched with amusement through one of the servos guiding cameras as the spies followed. It rumbled downhill into a gully and plunged into a sudden puddle, splashing some of the eyes so they recoiled. Plennafrey laughed.
The servo rumbled forward into the midst of a cluster of globe-frogs, who rolled hastily backward and gesticulated at one another inside their cases, croaking in alarm. They moved into the servos path, continuing their tirade, as if scolding the machine for scaring them. Cari guided it carefully so it wouldn't bump into any of them and headed it for the deepest part of the swamp.
Low-frequency transmissions buzzed between the spy-eyes. Carialle hooked the IT into the audio monitors. From the look of concentration on her face, Plenna was already listening to them in her own way, and enjoying being in the know for a change.
«Where is it going?» asked Potria's voice. «Do you suppose its going to where they are?»
Plennafrey giggled.
«Is the stranger's house doing this on its own?» Nokias asked. «It is a most powerful artifact.»
Carialle huffed. «They still think I'm an object! Oh, well, there's nothing I can do about that yet.»
«If they knew you were a living being,» Plenna said, «they would not treat you as an object. Oh,» she said, reality dawning, «they would, wouldn't they? They did with Keff. Oh, my, what has my world become?»
Carialle felt sorry for Plenna. She might be one of the upper class, but she wasn't happy about the status.
On the screen, the spy-eyes were buzzing busily to one another, circling the area, trying to second-guess the servo's mission. Serenely, the robot rolled into a swampy place where pink-flowering weeds grew. Carialle set its parameters to seek out a marsh weed that had exactly fifteen leaves and twelve petals.
«That should keep it busy for a while,» Carialle said.
«What does it want in that terrible wet place?» Asedow's voice wailed. «I am getting aches in my bones just watching it!»
«Keep your eyes open,» Nokias's voice cautioned them. «There might be a clue in what this box seeks that will lead us to the stranger.»
Carialle joined Plennafrey's delighted chuckle.
Keff ran to the far side of the cave mouth so the hill would block the view of him from the spy-eyes' position. The Noble Primitives, still wiping traces of breakfast from their faces and chest fur, were listening to their crew chiefs assigning tasks for the day. Brannel, near Alteis's group, seemed bored with the whole thing. Keff now suspected that there was something in the Noble Primitives metabolism that rejected the amnesia-inducing drug, or he was cleverer than his masters knew. He was banking on the latter possibility.
«Ssst, Brannel!» he whispered. A child turned around at the slight noise and saw him. Sternly, Keff shook his head and twirled his finger to show the child she should turn around again. Terrified, the youngster clamped her hands together and returned to her original posture, spine rigid. Keff fancied he could see her quivering and regretted the necessity of scaring her. It was easier to frighten the child into submission than make friends. He hissed again.
«Ssst, Brannel! Over here!»
This time Brannel heard him. The Noble Primitives sheeplike face split into a wide grin as he saw Keff beckoning to him. He rose to hands and knees and crawled away from the work party.
Alteis saw him. «Brannel, return!» he commanded.
Wordlessly, Brannel pointed to his belly, indicating the need to go relieve himself. The leader shook his head, then lost all interest in his maverick worker. Keff admired Brannel's quick mind; the fellow had to be unique among the field workers on Ozran.
«I am so glad to see you safe, Magelord,» Brannel said, when they had retreated around the curve of the hill. «I was concerned for your safety.»
Keff was touched. «Thank you, Brannel. I was worried for a while, too. But as you see, I'm back safe and sound.»
Brannel was impressed. Only yesterday Mage Keff could speak but a little of the Ozran tongue. Overnight, he had learned the language as well as if he had been born there.
«How may I serve, Magelord?»
«I wonder if you would be willing to do me a favor. I need someone with your injenooety,» Keff said. Brannel shook his head, not comprehending. «Er, your smart brain and wits.»
