The unicorns were successful. In a moment, three of the towering giants appeared, striding across the horizon, their heads literally lost in the clouds. They had been following the progress of the ball with giant field glasses, so had been ready to intercept it when it was stopped.
Stile had Sheen terminate their spells of invisibility and protection against attack, as these were no longer useful or necessary. Now Stile needed to be seen, to help organize the giants for their giant effort.
Soon the giants were using huge metal canes to propel the ball forward, up the slope, following the route Stile dictated. The giants enjoyed this; it was like a giant game of pool, knocking the tiny but extremely solid ball along. If they did it improperly, their pool cues broke, which was inconvenient.
The first elements of the goblin army arrived too late; the ball was well on its way. Stile and his companions were galloping after it.
Now, Stile thought, was the critical time. If the canny goblin commander did what Stile expected him to-
'There's no way the goblins can stop the giants,' Sheen said. 'We've won! Clip says the other side of the curtain is this side of the crest of the hill. We're nearly there!'
But another contingent of goblins was arriving at the hill. They did not try to oppose the giants; instead they marched ahead, as if clearing the way, which was strange. The giants, unperturbed, kept pushing the ball, taking turns with their cues. Even for them, it was very heavy, and progress slowed as they tired and their cues broke.
'The line should be right about here,' Sheen said.
'Not any more,' Stile told her. 'The goblins are moving it.'
Now she caught on. 'No! We aren't gaining at all, then!'
'Oh, we'll get there,' Stile said. 'This only means delay. The giants are tired; it will take longer to crest the hill.'
'I should think so,' she agreed, eyeing the steep, almost cliff-faced crest. 'You anticipated this? Why did you come here, then? The giants could have pushed it around the hill and across the curtain much faster, and we could have won the game by now. As it is, the enemy will have time to set up something worse.'
'Yes,' Stile agreed gravely.
The giant currently taking aim at the ball paused. He shook himself, and sweat flung out from him like rain.
'You'll have a workers' revolt soon,' Sheen cautioned. 'You've got to have some reason for this foolishness.'
But Stile was listening for something. Now at last he heard it: an abrupt intensification of the faint Flute music in the background.
'The Oracle has just crossed the line,' Stile announced. 'Or rather, the line has crossed the Oracle. That computer is now within the zone of juxtaposition. From there, it can use its own stored moving equipment to transport itself the rest of the way to Proton.'
'The Oracle!' Sheen exclaimed. 'It had to cross to Proton to complete the exchange. To be able to make its vast expertise available for the reorganization of the Proton economic complex.'
'The goblins have just enabled it to do that,' Stile agreed. 'Now we can tip the ball over the crest, roll it down across the line - and Clef can let the curtain collapse into singularity and vanish.'
'You did have a cunning notion! You knew the curtain had not spread far enough, that the Oracle was hung up here, right under this mound, so you-'
'We still have to get the ball across,' Stile reminded her. 'We haven't won yet.'
But now the giants renewed their efforts. The ball was shoved up over the cliff face with a convulsive joint effort; and began its inexorable roll down toward the curtain.
They charged up after it, scrambling for handholds at the brink, feeling the exhilaration of victory. As they crested the ridge, they saw the opposite slope blackened with goblins; all the rest of that army had force-marched here for the final confrontation.
The individual goblins could not stop the massively rolling ball, of course; they plunged desperately from its path. The slope was so steep that even the giants would be hard put to halt the ball before it crossed the curtain halfway down.
On the horizon Stile now spied the ogres, who had just arrived on the scene. They were ready to fight, but were understandably hesitant about wading into so vast an army of goblins. But it seemed the ogres would not be needed now.
On the next hill to the north was a device Stile recognized only from his researches into planetary warfare - a nuclear cannon. Powered by atomic fusion, this pre-Protonite weapon could fire a solid projectile into deep space - or into any object in its viewfinder at a lesser range. Stile knew the canny Grossnose would have it loaded with a half-ton slug of Protonite - the only substance that could have a proper effect on the rolling ball. The goblin commander had devised his strategy to counter Stile's strategy without pause.
'Get back over the ridge!' Stile cried. 'Down, giants! Now!'
The earth trembled as they obeyed, trusting his warning.
Giants, unicorns, and others all huddled in the shelter of the ridge.
The cannon fired. The Phazite ball exploded into thousands of fragments and a great cloud of dust. Phazite rained down around them in the form of stones, pebbles, gravel, and sand.
Sheen jumped to cover Stile's body with her own tougher one, and the cyborg did the same for the bearhead. Hie unicorns changed to their flying forms and huddled under the same shelters. But the giants were in some discomfort; they swatted at the pieces that struck them, as if bitten by gnats.
Now the great goblin army went into action, obviously rehearsed. Each goblin ran to pick up one fragment of Phazite and carry it south, away from the border of the juxtaposition. 'No!' Sheen cried. 'Fragmentation doesn't matter, so long as it gets across the line to Proton-frame. But this will finish us!'
Grossnose's final ploy had been a brilliant one. Once more the goblin had outmaneuvered Stile, giving up a lesser thing - in this case the Oracle - for the sake of a greater one. The ball had had to crest the hill to come into range of the nuclear cannon.
But Stile refused to give up. One hope remained. 'Trool! Brown!' Stile called. 'If you hear me - use the book! Do something while the enemy Adepts are relaxing in victory!' Did they hear? Could Brown locate a spell and use it in time? Stile was afraid not.
Suddenly there was a strange wrenching, as of vastly potent magic gone astray. Then the world stabilized, seemingly unchanged. The goblins still charged forward with their burdens, seeming slightly dizzy but hardly incapacitated.
Sheen looked at Stile in despair as the last of the sandfall cleared. 'We can't possibly stop them all,' she said. 'We have ogres and unicorns, but there are too many goblins, too hard to catch. The book-spell failed, or was blocked by the other Adepts. Lady Brown simply lacks the experience to use that sort of magic properly.'
'I don't know,' Stile said. 'That didn't feel like blocked magic.' He was getting a notion what it might have been, but decided not to say. It could not make a difference at this point. 'Let the goblins be; no sense getting ourselves in trouble in a futile effort'
The giants and unicorns turned away from him in disgust, but left the goblins alone. Soon virtually all of the Phazite was gone, carried away in pieces or in bagfuls. The battle was over.
Commander Grossnose strode over the crest. 'Congratulations on an excellent campaign, Adept,' he said graciously. 'Thou didst trick me on crossing the Oracle -but I countered with the cannon. The power of the Oracle in nonseparated frames becomes moot. But if thou wouldst be so good as to answer a point of curiosity-'
'Certainly,' Stile agreed.
'What was the nature of that last great spell thou didst attempt to perform? I felt its vasty power - but naught happened.'
Trool and the Brown Adept appeared, she with the book of magic clutched in her arms. 'We can answer that, goblin,' she said. 'It was reversal.'
Grossnose's constricted brow wrinkled. 'Reversal? I understand that not.'
'Thou knowest - changing directions. So west turns east and north turns south - or seems to. The Oracle told us to do it once it got into jux and could use its holo - hologramp - its magic pictures to talk to us. That's one smart machine!'
'North turns south?' the goblin asked, dismay infiltrating his face.
