in dim light the stairway seemed impossibly long; in darkness, it went on forever. At the bottom checkpoints, flashes of light were used to identify him.
When finally he reached Egarn’s workroom, he turned aside to visit the kitchen and storeroom where a refugee one-namers named Fornzt ruled with absolute authority. Fornzt was from Slorn, the peerdom Roszt and Kaynor came from, and he served as Egarn’s housekeeper. He had managed a boarding common in Slorn, no doubt with the same firmness he used now. He supervised the supplies and tried to keep on hand anything that might be needed. He prepared the meals and busily concerned himself with everyone’s health and happiness. Rain water that dripped down through the ruins was hoarded for baths. He kept track of the weather outside, saw that the sentries were properly dressed for it, and gave them hot food in cold weather and cold food when the weather was warm. He took Egarn’s meals to him and, if the old man was too preoccupied to eat, Fornzt coaxed them into him while he worked.
He had already gone to bed—he got up early to begin the day’s cooking—but he had a pot of stew simmering on his charcoal burner for those who came off duty late. When Arne called to him, he awoke instantly and came waddling out with a grin on his face. He was a short, tubby, round-faced man, as unlike Roszt and Kaynor as could be imagined. He had been emaciated from the ordeal of his escape over the mountains when Arne first met him, but regular meals cooked by himself agreed with him. He was unlike the lank, intense scouts in another way—he saw the bright side of everything. Egarn’s helpers tended to be grimly serious men, and Arne found Fornzt’s touches of humor a welcome relief in the gloomy depths of the ruins.
Because it had been so long since Arne’s last visit, they went together to inspect the stocks of food and other supplies, and Arne made notes of shortages. Two of the sentries had worn out their shoes in their escape from the Peer of Lant’s armies. It was true they did little walking now, but the steel mesh of the stairway was painful for them to negotiate. Arne promised new shoes and also noted the need for more blankets. The cold dampness of the underground rooms was distressing to the older men.
Arne next described a problem he had long been meditating. From the beginning, he’d had a nagging concern about what might happen if all else failed—if the massive armies of Lant arrived sooner than anyone wanted to believe and somehow discovered what the ruins concealed. Despite the optimism engendered by the sudden cooperation of the ten peers, Arne’s common sense told him that if war came soon, his sketchy little army would quickly be overwhelmed in spite of Egarn’s weapon. Arne could envision the Lantiff swarming over the ruins, torturing a sentry until he talked, and then pouring down the long stairway in a cascade of military might. Those who lived and worked underground had an escape route, of course. The guards should be able to hold off the Lantiff with Egarn’s weapon long enough for everyone to get away, but Arne wanted more than this. If they were forced to flee, Egarn’s great project would be ruined. There was no way he could take his machines with him. He seemed more aged and enfeebled each time Arne saw him, and even if a secure place could be found, with sufficient food and other supplies for him to start over, Arne doubted that Egarn had the strength and will to do it.
Fornzt had more free time than anyone else on Egarn’s team, and he used it to explore the ruins. He found passageways where none were thought to exist, he tunneled through collapsed rooms, he made astonishing discoveries of materials that would have been valuable salvage if Egarn hadn’t already scrounged everything he needed.
“Egarn should have a hidden workroom with a secret escape route to it and a reserve supply of food and water,” Arne told him. “He should duplicate all of his machines there. Then his project wouldn’t have to fail if the Lantiff captured this place. He could escape to the secret room with Inskel, Roszt, Kaynor, and a few others and finish his plan. I want you to work on this yourself and tell no one. Only Egarn and Inskel should know about it.”
Fornzt nodded excitedly. “Of course. I’ve thought about it myself. If everything else fails, Egarn should have some place to go. I’ll start work right away.”
“Remember—except for Egarn and Inskel, you aren’t to say anything about this to anyone, not even under torture.”
“I’ve had a bit of that,” Fornzt said. He smiled as though it were a pleasant recollection, but Arne knew his satisfaction came from having escaped. Now he had the privilege of helping Egarn strike back at the Peer of Lant. He didn’t understand what form the blow was to take, but it gave him enormous satisfaction to have a part in it.
Arne left him and went to see Egarn.
In the main workroom, an audience was seated before the cabinet and its enormous len: Egarn; Wiltzon the schooler; the scouts Roszt and Kaynor; and Garzot, one of the len grinders. Gevis, the young assistant schooler, was operating the controls; the others were so intent on the flickering picture the len showed them that for some time they were unaware of Arne’s presence.
Gevis had become one of the most valued members of Egarn’s team. Because he was resposible only to Wiltzon, he could absent himself from the village for a few daez whenever Wiltzon thought of an excuse. He had assumed almost the whole responsibility for training Roszt and Kaynor in ways of the 20th century. He had an excellent memory and a genuine affinity for life in the past, or so Egarn said. He grasped things far more easily than Wiltzon did, and he instructed the scouts from Slorn with infinite patience. He also assisted Inskel whenever possible, and he was becoming highly competent in what Egarn called the technology of time travel.
His appearance belied his capabilities. He was slight of build, boyish looking, sallow-faced. He was still impatiently anticipating a beard. When he was not underground with Egarn, he was in the classroom drilling students or in his quarters in Wiltzon’s house, reading. Villagers joked that he had never seen the sun. They also joked that he had never done any work in his life, but that was only because they refused to consider a schooler’s duties as work. Gevis worked extremely hard.
The dog Val padded over to Arne, sniffed his fingers, and then returned to his place between his favorites, Roszt and Kaynor. Arne stood behind the others and stared at the len. It showed a street lined with buildings, wonderful buildings such as he had never imagined. Some of them extended upward far beyond the len’s reach. The people on the walkways along the street wore strange and dazzlingly colored clothing. Their behavior was even stranger. They hurried swiftly until they came to a cross street. Then they gathered in groups and stood motionless. Arne was familiar with the mock car that Ellar had built for Egarn—he had even sat in it while Egarn tried to explain how it worked—but this had not prepared him for the sight of numerous cars in a variety of colors moving magically along the street in both directions. Suddenly they came to an an orderly stop, and the waiting people rushed across the street and resumed their frenzied walking. Arne found it totally bewildering.
Egarn became aware of his presence and welcomed him with a smile. “Finally I have succeeded!” he exclaimed. “Now I can choose a time and a place and see it clearly. I can send Roszt and Kaynor exactly where I want them to go, and I can watch them after they arrive there. Maybe I can even send them messages—if we write in this language and use code words, no one there will be able to read them if they miscarry. The picture is clear enough to show Roszt and Kaynor what life is like where they are going, and that means they will be much better prepared. I think we have an excellent chance for success. A few more experiments—”
He broke off. It suddenly occurred to him that Arne, the busiest person in the peerdom, wouldn’t make the laborious descent to his workroom merely to exchange greetings. He asked anxiously, “Is anything wrong?”
Wiltzon had kept Egarn informed about the dramatic events at Midlow Court. Now Arne described what had occurred recently and told them about his journey and the creation of an army. The others were enthralled, but Egarn listened impatiently. “It is a turn for the better, I suppose,” he said when Arne had finished. “The only problem with Midlow all along has been its prince. Now there is a different prince. We can relax a bit.”
“We can’t relax, ever,” Arne said. He dropped his voice. “There are things we need to discuss privately.”
“Is the former prince making trouble?”
The question surprised Arne until he remembered that everyone, including himself, had expected Deline to make trouble. He told Egarn she was becomming an excellent assistant.
“I suppose she is a considerable nuisance to you personally,” Egarn said. “You have her living in Midd Village, and you have to work with her and train her, but you will handle things. You always do.”
Arne led Egarn to the room’s most remote corner and quietly asked him what he thought about a one- namer becoming the prince’s consort. “The only advice I have is what the Old Med gave me,” Egarn said. “If you refuse, you will make an enemy. If you accept, if you establish a real friendship with the prince, you will have an
