Into the Void

manufacture before he could hand it over to T'k'Pek. Just how was he going to do that?

At home, Teldin had always prided himself on his ability to 'read' others, to pick out when they were telling the truth and when they weren't. He didn't know how he did it; it wasn't anything certain, more like a combination of factors, and it was felt rather than reasoned. He'd been burned a few times, but more often than not he'd proved to his own satisfaction that he could tell when someone was lying about something important. On the walk through the city, he'd decided that he'd have to depend on that ability now. He didn't know enough about the cloak to ask the arcane cunning questions, trying to trip him up. He'd just have to get T'k'Pek talking, then trust his instincts-'trust his gut,' as his grandfather used to say.

Aelfred was still waiting for an answer to his question. Teldin patted his large friend on the shoulder. 'I know what I want,' he confirmed.

The dragonfly had maneuvered so that the Nebulon was now directly ahead, and close. Teldin examined the ship, fascinated. So far, every spelljamming ship he'd seen looked like some kind of vessel. The gnomish dreadnought, the Unquenchable, looked like some nightmarish rendering of a sidewheeler; the hammership Probe had the hull, decks, and rigging of a seagoing ship. Even the 'insect ships'-the wasps, mosquito, dragonfly, and deathspider-looked as if they were built to sail or fly… at least to travel from one place to another. The Nebulon, however, bore absolutely no resemblance to anything that could ever float or set down on land. The arcane's ship was a cylinder about as high as it was wide-like a milking pail, Teldin thought. It was light gray, almost white, ribbed by black bands. From the way the white material shone in the harsh sunlight of space, Teldin was certain it wasn't wood, metal, or even stone. Ivory, he mused, it reminds me of ivory, but they couldn't build a whole ship out of ivory, could they? The arcane's ship tumbled slowly through space, recalling images of Rianna's tiny mosquito and the efforts of Vallus Leafbower and the crew to bring it under control.

There was no such problem here, however. The dragonfly deftly maneuvered to match the motions of the cylinder. As the ships moved relative to each other, Teldin felt an uncomfortable shifting of balance in his inner ear. Remembering his conversations with Horvath and other spelljamming 'veterans,' he assumed this meant the two ships were aligning their gravity planes so that the 'local down' for each vessel was the same. Soon the Nebulon appeared to be stationary- in relation to the dragonfly, at least-while the stars wheeled slowly about the two vessels. Teldin's sense of balance finally settled as well.

As the dragonfly drew closer, Teldin realized the scale of the ship he was seeing. From a distance he'd guessed the cylindrical ship to be about fifty or sixty feet in diameter. Now, as the dragonfly hovered over one circular end, he saw the Nebulon must be almost five times that size: its diameter was about equal to the full keel length of the Probe. The black bands he'd seen were rows of great windows. What a view they must give, he thought with wonder.

The dragonfly made a final course correction and settled to the large, circular deck. There was a slight jolt as the small ship landed and a barely heard creak as its legs absorbed the strain. This was followed by another, almost subliminal thump. One of the dragonfly's crew came aft and nodded respectfully to Teldin. 'Welcome aboard the Nebulon, milord,' he said. He gestured to the ship's rail. 'You may disembark now.'

Teldin nodded with what he judged to be the right mixture of politeness and indifference. He stood and waited for the crewman to throw down the rope ladder… but there apparently was no need for the ladder. One of the crewmen just swung his leg over the dragonfly's rail and vanished. Teldin walked over to the gunwale.

There was a narrow, steep staircase butted up against the dragonfly's hull, its top step almost exactly level with the small ship's deck. The staircase was made of the same featureless white material as the rest of the arcane's ship. Teldin leaned over the rail. The stairway wasn't resting on the deck, as he'd expected. In fact, there was no visible division between the staircase and the deck. It was almost as though the stairway had grown out of the deck itself.

One dragonfly crewman was standing at the bottom of the stairs. The other was at Teldin's elbow, ready to give him a hand as he climbed over the rail. Teldin glanced behind him. Yes, his 'assistants' were flanking him. Aelfred shot him a meaningful glance-obviously the big warrior thought he should go first, in case of a trap-but Teldin shook his head almost imperceptibly. If this was a trap, they were certainly dead men no matter who went down those mysterious stairs first. And, unaccountably, Teldin found himself unwilling to let somebody else take the lead this time. Both Aelfred and Estriss-and the others aboard the Probe-had already put their lives on the line for him, to help him discharge an obligation that wasn't theirs, that really had nothing to do with them whatsoever. They'd done it of their own will, he knew, but that just made it worse. No matter how much Aelfred wanted to lead-and, to be honest, no matter how much Teldin would like to have the big warrior ahead of him-it was about time Teldin did what was right. Ignoring the crewman's proffered help, he swung his legs over the rail and started down the stairway.

For the first time he could see the cylinder's circular 'deck' clearly. There was nothing-other than the stairway itself and the low rail around the circumference-to break up the featureless expanse: no forecastle, no mast or rigging… and no visible way of getting down inside the cylindrical ship. Well, he thought, we'll just have to leave that up to the arcane, or this will be a short and useless meeting.

The stairway had a rail, but it was only on one side and was higher than was comfortable for Teldin. The risers, too, were higher than normal and were uncomfortable for human legs. Of course, he thought, the Nebulon isn't a human ship. He wished he'd asked Aelfred or Estriss more about what the arcane looked like. From the construction of this staircase, he could guess they were considerably taller than humans, but what other surprises were in store? With an effort he pushed on.

There was one positive thing: the descent down the staircase gave him an opportunity to examine the white material that seemed to make up the entire ship. The rail under his hand didn't feel cold like metal or stone would. It was more a neutral temperature. The texture wasn't quite like ivory, but he realized his original guess was probably fairly close to the truth. The white substance felt very much like bone. A ship of bone? That was an uncomfortable image.

The crewman nodded respectfully as Teldin reached the deck. They waited while Aelfred, Estriss, and the other crewman joined them, then led the party to the center of the circular deck. The first crewman muttered a short phrase under his breath, and the deck opened up.

The solid material of the deck shifted, and a round opening appeared. To Teldin, it looked like a gigantic eye,… or a mouth, opening. He fought the urge to step back.

The circular opening expanded until it was about ten feet in diameter. Cautiously, Teldin looked down into the hole. There was warm yellow light like a summer afternoon down there, and he could see a spiral staircase leading into the ship's depths. The first crewman bowed to Teldin again. 'T'k'Pek awaits you below,' he said.

Teldin nodded. He stepped forward and probed the edge of the opening with his toe. The white material, which seconds ago had shifted like soft flesh, was as hard as any other part of the deck. He glanced back at Aelfred and Estriss. The warrior was looking a little uncomfortable, but the disguised illithid appeared totally unconcerned. He's probably seen this kind of thing before, Teldin thought. He stepped onto the first stair- also as firm as rock-and started to descend. His 'assistants' followed him.

The spiral staircase, with its too-high steps, took four turns, then reached another deck. Teldin guessed he'd descended about fifty feet. He was in a small, circular room, not much larger than the span of the staircase itself. There was a single door ahead: almost as high as the ceiling, but otherwise normal in design. As he waited for the others to join him, he looked around for the source of the light. There were no lanterns or torches; the light seemed to come from everywhere. He glanced at his feet and saw no shadow.

This one staircase, just to get to one door? he asked himself, then immediately answered his own question. Just like the circular hatch, he thought. Other doors open when they're needed.

Aelfred and Estriss were quickly beside him. With a deep breath, Teldin reached out for the doorknob.

His hand was still inches away from it when the door swung silently inward. Teldin hesitated, then stepped forward.

On the other side of the door was a long, straight corridor. Walls, floor, and fifteen-foot-high ceiling all were constructed of the now-familiar white material. The corridor shone with sourceless light. Dead straight, it had to be a hundred feet long, maybe more. The walls were featureless-no doors, no embellishments or decorations, nothing to break the unrelieved whiteness. Again, he presumed that doors along the corridor would open as the arcane