The Broken Sphere

tone, one that Teldin interpreted as doubt, as struggling with a concept that came hard for the creature. 'I wished to experience that 'more.'' Again it paused. 'I understood what my destiny should be within my clan and wished for another existence. I left my hive some time ago. My clan and my nation consider me a rogue, a renegade-by definition insane for placing my own needs above those of my kin. Yet…

'It is an insanity I find I relish.' Once more it gestured with its eyestalks. 'I would not expect you to understand.'

Teldin shook his head slowly, a sad half smile on his face. On the contrary, he thought, I understand all too well… if what you're saying is the truth. He took a different tack. 'What do you know about the Spelljammer?' he asked sharply.

'What any sentient in the universe knows,' Beth-Abz answered. 'That it is the subject of myth and legend, perhaps the largest and most powerful vessel to ply the space-ways. More powerful than the largest tyrant ship, more powerful even than nation Gurrazh-Ahr's entire fleet. Some of the false nations among those not of the true ideal covet it, I know that also.'

Teldin wasn't sure he grasped the nuances of what the beholder was saying, but he thought he understood enough. 'And what about nation Gurrazh-Ahr?' he asked. 'And clan Beth? Do they covet it?'

'I can no longer speak for my clan or my nation,' Beth-Abz said slowly, and this time the sadness in the creature's voice was unmistakable. 'I no longer have clan or nation. I can speak only for myself, and I would as soon covet an entire crystal sphere as the Spelljammer, for the chances of obtaining either are nonexistent.'

The Cloakmaster was silent, lost in thought. He watched his fingers stroking the heavy grain of the tabletop. Then he raised his gaze back to the beholder. 'What would you say if I told you that I sought to captain the Spelljammer?' he asked quietly. He heard Julia's gasp of shock, but forced himself to ignore her.

With a chorus of clicks, all ten of Beth-Abz's eyestalks pivoted around to focus on Teldin. 'I would say your insanity is even greater than mine,' the creature said at once. 'Yet I would also say that your destiny is your own, Captain, and the direction of your life is yours to choose.' It paused. 'I would also say that I would relish a chance to glimpse the Spelljammer,' it finished wistfully.

Good answer, Teldin told himself. It has the ring of truth. But can I trust this thing?

Yet what good would distrusting Beth-Abz do? He remembered what he'd heard about beholders, that each of its smaller eyes could direct blasts of destruction, and that its central eye could emit a ray capable of suppressing all magical activity. If it wanted me dead, I'd be dead already, he thought again. If it wanted the cloak, it could kill me and take it off my body, and the entire crew of the Boundless couldn't stop it. Or it could simply suppress the magic of the cloak and take it from my shoulders. (Now there was a thought….)

But Beth-Abz hadn't done any of those things. What possible benefit could it gain from deceiving him? Teldin wondered.

He watched the beholder silently. All of its eyes were still fixed on him, as it watched him in return.

The creature was terrifying, its potential for destruction impossible to estimate. In form it was a monster… but, Teldin found, he wasn't thinking of it as a monster. Maybe his time with Estriss, and his exposure to other sentient races that humans might consider monsters, had burned that atavistic, instinctive reaction out of him. Beth-Abz was a thinking, feeling creature. A potential threat, yes-but also a potential ally of great power. And-who knew?-maybe a potential friend.

The Cloakmaster nodded as he made his decision. 'Will you sail with me, Beth-Abz?' he asked. 'Will you accept my authority as captain?'

'I have already done so.' The hideous creature's response seemed guileless.

Teldin laid both hands flat on the table before him. 'You are part of my crew, Beth-Abz,' he said quietly. From the corner of his eye he could see Julia's look of disbelief. Yet almost at once he saw her suppress her reaction, saw her shoulders relax as she accepted his decision.

Before him, the lines of the beholder shimmered again as it began its shift back to human form.

'No,' Teldin said sharply. The transformation ceased; the beholder returned to its spherical form. 'No,' the captain repeated, 'you'll keep your true shape. I don't want any more deception on this ship. I've had enough of deception.'

He turned to Julia. 'Please spread the word about our… um… new crew member.'

Again Julia stared at him as though he'd lost his mind. 'It's going to be a hard sell, Teldin,' was all she said.

He shot her a reassuring smile. 'Then think of the satisfaction when you succeed.'

Chapter Five

The privateer Shark hung against the psychedelic backdrop of the Flow, its helm warmed up for station-keeping and prepared for pursuit or flight. In front of the battle dolphin, the outer surface of Heartspace's crystal sphere looked like an infinite wall of mother-of-pearl. From the command deck, the permanent portal into the sphere's interior looked like a black disk limned around the edges with Saint Elmo's fire. At this distance, the portal-actually large enough to accommodate even the biggest ship-appeared about the size of a doubloon held at arm's length.

Captain Berglund leaned back against the aft railing, looking forward down the length of the command deck toward the shimmering portal. He pulled from his belt pouch the folded sheets of parchment he'd been given when he was ashore on Starfall. For the dozenth time since entering the Flow, he reread his orders-he still thought of them as 'orders,' even though it had been seven years since he'd deserted from military service.

The orders were very specific. Hold station at a specific point outside the Heartspace sphere and wait for a particular vessel to exit through the portal. Intercept said vessel and cripple it. Board and put the crew to the sword… with one exception: the captain was to be spared, no matter what it took to guarantee that. Scuttle the target and head off with all haste into the Flow for a distant crystal sphere, bringing the captain as prisoner.

Berglund stroked his beard as he thought. With the exception of sparing the captain, the orders matched his standard operating procedure. He didn't have a problem with that part of the mission at all… particularly since the nondescript human who'd hired him agreed that Berglund could keep whatever booty he could take from the vessel.

What did bother him was the amount of detail he'd been given about the target. He turned to the second page of the orders. Here was a complete rundown on his victim-a squid ship, he noted again. There was also a manifest detailing all the weapons the vessel carried, its projected time of arrival at the portal, plus an entire crew roster. Berglund simply wasn't used to having this level of intelligence on a target.

Still and all, he thought, it does make my job easier, and guarantees no surprises. You don't refuse a gift ship just because you smell dry rot, do you?

But where did that mystery man get all this information? Berglund wondered again. There was something about this that hinted to the pirate captain that he was getting into something much too big for him.

Yet the payment was big, too, wasn't it? Even if the squid ship turned out to be empty of valuables, Berglund and his crew would make more from this single operation than they'd normally make in a four-month of piracy.

He shook his head. His battle dolphin against a squid ship was normally a much closer fight than he liked. Smaller, less maneuverable, and worse-armed vessels were much more tempting targets. Even though Berglund was a good tactician, there was always the chance of losing such a well-matched battle. Yet the mystery man had said that had been taken care of, too….

A final time he read the section describing how the enemy captain was to be treated. Bound hand and foot, blind-folded, and gagged-that he could understand. But kept unconscious throughout the entire return voyage, even if that meant risking his captive's life through repeated blows to the head? There definitely was more to this mission than he knew.

Still, he supposed, he who pays the piper calls the tune. And this piper was very well paid indeed.