Into the Void

with their backs to the rail, looking with some trepidation at their new hosts. Most of the crewmen had returned to their task, but several still stood around, watching the gnomes with interest.

Aelfred, too, swung over the rail, tossing the rope to another crewman. Teldin tried to ignore the fact that their only possible escape from the hammership was now drifting away into the darkness of space, and he asked, 'What's the name of your ship?'

The big man chuckled deep in his throat. 'My ship? Oh, I'm not the captain. Lort-' he called to another crewman '-why don't you bring the captain on deck? Our guest would like to meet him.'

Lort, a whip-thin boy of perhaps twenty summers but already showing the hard edge of a mercenary, grinned and vanished down a companionway.

'We spotted a gnomish dreadnought making high speed, with two wasps hard after it,' Aelfred continued to Teldin. 'It was too far away for us to get into the action. Your ship?'

Teldin was silent for a moment. The caution he'd learned over the last few weeks began to reassert itself. 'In a manner of speaking,' he temporized.

Aelfred didn't question him on it. The large man was watching the companionway where Lort had disappeared belowdecks. 'You're interested in the captain?' he asked, a strange tone to his voice. 'Teldin, meet my commanding officer.'

A figure emerged from the companionway. It was almost as tall as Aelfred, but there the similarity ended. The captain's skin, mottled and purple, glistened, and the short tentacles that made up its lower face moved sinuously. Large white eyes with no visible pupils regarded Teldin icily. The figure was clad in a silken, midnight-purple robe, clasped high at the neck and long enough to brush the deck. A brooch of amethyst set in burnished silver was at the creature's throat.

Aelfred laid a calloused hand on Teldin's shoulder. 'Welcome aboard,' he said flatly.

Chapter Three

Teldin took an involuntary step backward and felt the ship's rail press against his spine. Nowhere to run, his fear told him. He was flanked to left and right by members of the hammer-ship's crew. Nothing was actively hostile in their manner, but there was certainly nothing welcoming either. The harsh sunlight of space glinted off knives and daggers and illuminated hard and scar-etched faces.

Ahead of him, the captain-the monster-drew closer. You're dead. Dead, dead… The words hammered in the back of Teldin's brain. Images from childhood stories and horror tales flashed through his mind. He saw his own death, his head held immobile while writhing tentacles peeled away his skull like the shell of a hard-boiled egg. He felt his legs tense of their own volition, ready to heave him backward over the gunwale. Better the long, dizzying fall into nothingness than that ultimate obscenity….

You have nothing to fear.

The voice was quiet, but as clear as the tone of a flute, completely unaccented. Teldin looked around wildly for the one who'd spoken. No one had moved: neither Dana nor Horvath, nor the crew of the monster's vessel. His gaze snapped back to the tentacled creature.

It raised a three-fingered hand, and Teldin flinched. The rail slammed into the small of his back, and for a moment his balance wavered. The firm hand of a crewman grasped his shoulder then, not painfully or threateningly, merely to steady him.

The clear voice sounded again, I repeat, you have nothing to fear. This time the voice was accompanied by an almost subliminal tingle within Teldin's skull, a momentary feeling of coolness a finger's breadth behind his left eyebrow. He stared at the monster. Although there was no change in its expression-if a thing with tentacles instead of a face could be said to have an expression-its gaze no longer looked threatening or even intense, merely curious.

What is your name? This time Teldin was sure of what he'd only just begun to suspect. The 'voice' was sounding directly in his mind.

With a supreme effort, he forced control on his body, slowing and deepening his breathing, releasing the tension in his chest. 'Teldin,' he whispered. 'Teldin Moore.'

Teldin Moore, the mental voice repeated. I welcome you aboard the good ship Probe, Teldin. Tentacles moved in an intricate and graceful pattern-a gesture of greeting? My name is 'Estriss.'

It took Teldin a moment-and the startled reaction of the two gnomes beside him-to realize that the creature had spoken the last word aloud. Its voice was sharp and thin, a hissing sound more like the warning cry of a lizard or snake than the speech of a warm-blooded creature. But, of course, it's probably nor warm-blooded, he thought with a shudder. 'Estriss,' he repeated.

Correct. The cool words formed inside his head once more. Translated into your language, the name means 'Thought Taker.'

'Thought… Taker?'

That is how my own people know me. Teldin felt a touch of something that could be humor-albeit cold and detached- in the monster's statement. It is not as bad as it sounds. I am a philosopher, a student of the universe. I learn from others, borrow from their wisdom and learning. Thus 'Thought Taker' Estriss. Do you understand?

Teldin nodded dumbly. His trip-hammer heartbeat was slowing back to some semblance of normality, and, as before, Teldin was dully surprised at how fast his body seemed to be able to recover from shock so great that he should be curled into a gibbering, fetal ball. Was his resilience, he was coming to wonder, something to do with the cloak that was now just a strip of fabric around his neck. 'What… what are you?' It took a conscious effort to force the question from his lips.

The name we use for ourselves has no cognate-no equivalent-in your symbology, the monster explained silently. To some we are known as illithids. To others, mind flayers. You have not heard of us? There was no expression in the creature's eyes, but Teldin somehow sensed what could be mild disappointment as he shook his head. No matter, the 'illithid' continued. What was your destination?

Teldin glanced over at Horvath, but the gnome made no reaction. Apparently he hadn't 'heard' Estriss's question.

'I don't know,' Teldin answered honestly… then wondered why he'd bothered to speak aloud. Surely the illithid could read his thoughts without the clumsy intermediary of speech. He concentrated, willing Estriss to respond. But after a few seconds of no reaction, he said out loud, 'You can't read my mind?'

Only when you speak. Forming the words focuses your thoughts enough forme to sense them. I have no need to hear the words, nor do I have to understand the language. But the action of speech must be there, and the communication must be intended for me. Have no fear. Your secrets are safe should you wish to keep them. The illithid gestured around it with a strangely articulated hand. The Probe's destination is Toril, in Realmspace. You and your comrades-here the gnomes looked up, startled, as though only now hearing Estriss's words-are welcome to work off your passage as members of my crew. I would be glad to number you among them, particularly since your ship seems to have deserted you. Or, if you wish, you can be returned to Krynn….

'No!' Teldin was surprised by the force of his own voice.

Estriss was taken aback, too, if the sudden tilt to the creature's head was any indication.

Teldin cursed himself silently. He was a fugitive, and fugitives shouldn't draw attention to their plight. The gnomes had taken him aboard knowing he was being pursued-and look what happened to so many of them, his guilt interjected-but this mind flayer might decide that a fugitive represented too great a risk and return him to Krynn against his will… or simply kill him.

The illithid just nodded its head-a surprisingly human gesture. So be it, then, the cool voice rang in Teldin's brain. My first mate will assign your quarters and duties.

Aelfred Silverhorn stepped forward. 'All right, you lot,' he said, not unkindly. 'Follow me and we'll get you squared away.'