After two hours of traveling straight up, Teldin could see that the footprint shape of the lake was much clearer. His sinuses clearing up at last, he stared out of his cabin porthole, feeling a curious sense of deja vu. Hadn't he done this before? He had the feeling that someone was about to enter his cabin, but he shrugged off the feeling and concentrated on the view. He guessed that they were about seventy miles up.
Loomfinger was on the helm for now. Sylvie had slept badly the night before, and she was so exhausted that she could not be awakened. Aelfred had made the helm substitution so the ship could get on its way as soon as possible. With enough altitude, Aelfred hoped the ship's speed would increase regardless of who ran it. Then, too, if they had to find a beast like the one that had made those unbelievable footprints, they would need all the altitude they could get.
Someone knocked on Teldin's door. Gaye, he thought, not quite sure why he believed it was her. He heaved a sigh and left the bed, walking over to his door. He crouched as he opened it, to avoid banging his head on the door frame.
"Ah, Teldin!" cried Dyffed. "Just the man I wanted to see, and here I am, seeing you!" The gnome gave a hearty chuckle. Dyffed had not changed his clothes in the last month; his brown tweed suit was fraying apart at the elbows, his lime-green shirt was a lifeless green-brown, and his bright yellow tie was decorated with hundreds of food stains.
Maybe seeing Gaye wouldn't have been such a bad idea, Teldin thought. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly.
"Miss Gaeadrelle Goldring informs me that you have the thingfinder!" Seeing Teldin's blank expression, the gnome hurried on. "The thingfinder! Smallish crimson box, about so big, which I thought I had lost when the hamsters got loose but which Miss Gaeadrelle Goldring says she found and took with her when we left Ironpiece, then-"
"I've got it," Teldin said, leaving the door open to walk back to his bed. He reached down and opened a drawer in a bedside dresser, then pulled out the red box. He gave it to Dyffed. "I forgot all about it. Forgive me for that."
The bald gnome inspected the box, then gave Teldin a glowing smile. "Marvelous-it's in perfect shape! You've taken excellent care of it, not what I would have expected from someone not born to the rigors and demands of science and technology, the exacting care that they-oops." He gingerly withdrew and pocketed a broken gear fragment from the open back of the box. "Do hope that wasn't important," he muttered. He looked up at Tel Jin again, the incident forgotten. "As I was saying, let's be off!"
"Off where?" Teldin asked cautiously.
"Why, off to find the fal, of course!" announced the gnome, as if the goal had been perfectly obvious from the start. "We'll go topside and swing our little thingfinder around and see what thing we find!"
Teldin looked down at the red box as if it were a live serpent. He remembered the way the gnomes with Dyffed had ducked when it was pointed in their direction, back in the hangar on Ironpiece. "Is that thing dangerous to use?"
"Dangerous? You mean dangerous?" The gnome appeared astonished. "Why, not at all. It's perfectly safe. There's not a thing it could do to harm either of us. At least, not that I know of. I mean, my colleagues on Ironpiece had made only this one model, and they hadn't had time to properly test it, but they gave me their utmost assurances that nothing could go wrong, nothing that they could possibly imagine. It's as safe as the Bank of Ironpiece, Reorx bless it." The gnome chewed his lower lip. "But I guess I shouldn't say that now, should I. How fast they go. The bank had experienced some difficulties, but no one had thought…"
Five minutes later, the two were on the top deck. The wind wasn't particularly troublesome because the gnome at the helm couldn't give the spelljammer the speed that the more-experienced wizard Sylvie could, but Teldin still kept his cloak reduced to necklace length to keep it from flapping against him. He suddenly felt queazy about approaching the low railing around the top deck while the ship was in flight. The suddenness with which the ship had entered Herdspace and the excitement of the earlier air battle had negated all his nervousness before; now the situation was very different. He kept low, reaching the railing and sitting down next to it with one leg against a railing post for additional support.
There were few clouds around. Teldin remembered how clear the sky had been that morning, and he wondered if the weather was merely going through a pleasant period or if this was the natural state of things. With luck, they wouldn't be in this crystal sphere long enough to find out.
Dyffed had no qualms about being on the top deck, and he peered over the side of the ship to the ground, now many miles below them. Teldin almost closed his eyes, not wanting to see the gnome fall over by accident. "Lovely view, just lovely," murmured the gnome, then stood back with the red thingfinder in his hands. "Now, let's see what we shall see."
Teldin's teeth gritted together as the gnome made a few adjustments inside the box, then raised it to his face. "We're looking for our friend the falmadaraatha, One Six Nine, or old 'Thirteen Squared,' as we used to call him. That's an inside joke, you see, because the value of thirteen squared is-"
"You've already told me about that," said Teldin wearily. "Just let me know if you see anything."
The gnome began scanning ahead of the ship, the wind whipping his filthy tie around his neck. "You see, this device works on a certain amount of latent psionic energy present in the mind of the operator. You need not be a fully accredited psionicist to use it, since we all possess a certain degree of-"
"Dyffed," interrupted Teldin. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking about. Pretend that I'm stupid, then explain it to me."
"Oh," said the gnome. "Well, um, what you do… you think of something, then you look for it through here"-he indicated the dark glass window on the box with a finger- "and then the box front, here, lets you see the object. I tried to locate you once with this, before we left Ironpiece, and got the most curious reaction when this perfectly imbecilic moron got in the way. Would you believe that this silly box said that this obviously low-grade-but-still-gnomish gnome was actually you? I was quite annoyed, really. Thought I was going to have my funding cut off for it, but then the hamsters escaped, and you know, I can't see a single thing through this." The gnome lowered the red box and turned it over. "Ah. Forgot to turn it on." He made a final adjustment, then looked through it again. "Ah, much better. One Six Nine, One Six Nine, One Six Nine… really quite a nice chap, I must say. Makes an excellent carrot dip. I remember once when I came here with-"
"Can you find the Spelljammer with that?" Teldin asked abruptly, amazed he hadn't thought to ask before now.
"Why, certainly," said Dyffed, "if it's in this sphere, then we should . . ." The gnome swung the thingfinder in several wide arcs, eventually covering the range of the sky and ship. ''Well, so much for that. Must be in another crystal sphere. Back to One Six Nine. Fine chap, as I was saying-"
"Dyffed," interrupted Teldin again. "If you've been to this sphere before, and you've visited One Six Nine's home, then why don't you know the way to get there? Why didn't you say anything about what we should expect when we got to this sphere, like these 'megafauna' you talk about?"
"What?" The gnome lowered the thingfinder and looked at Teldin in surprise. "Oh, well, I… I…" He looked confused, staring at the view wi th a vaguely troubled look. "I forgot about it, I'm afraid. Because this sphere pops ships inside it, so they never go through it, it's almost impossible to come in where you want to be. You just can't tell from the outside, you know. I also meant to tell you about the mega-fauna, I really did. I was going to say something about the antimagical water, too, since I've read some papers about that-quite fascinating, really. The megafauna's tracks destroy all magical power beneath them, simply crush it out, voiding the dweomer. We are speaking of pressures greater than three point one four one five nine two six five three five nine times ten to the thirty-seventh power scruples per square acre, of course, far beyond any known magical tolerance levels, once the megafauna puts down its foot-a process which takes centuries, as you can imagine. There are local legends in Herd-space to the effect that eventually all of the megafauna will crush out ail magical power, and magic will cease to exist in this sphere. That's the 'Quiet Whimper' theory, you see, and the other view is the 'Unsteady State' theory, in which the footsteps taken by megafauna after the magic is crushed out will then bring magic back. A fascinating idea, the latter, but, as yet, there's no real-"
"Wait," Teldin interrupted. "One more question: How do we get out of this sphere?"
"Ah!" Dyffed's face lit up. "Ah, I did see that. You simply dive back toward the place you came in! Marvelous system. The gateways open up at regular intervals, the same time each day for an hour or so, and-assuming that you've been able to time your exit using a properly built timekeeping device, such as gnomes are known for making-you leave!"
"Good," said Teldin in relief. "Now, look for the fal."
"The fal, yes," said the gnome, raising the red box to his face again. He rotated, scanning the sky in all directions at eye level, then looked higher. "Perhaps this cursed device really is just a tad out of adjustme-oh! By Reorx!" The excited gnome started to point to a place forward, up, and to the starboard side of the ship, then did a very unexpected thing. He dropped the red box.
Stunned, Teldin lunged for the box, which bounced on the deck toward the side of the ship. His fingers missed a clean grab, instead knocking the box back on the deck and away from him. Dyffed lunged for the box again and missed, stumbling over his own feet to fall facedown on the deck. Teldin lunged for the thingfinder, slapping a hand over it and pinning it to the deck.
Heaving a sigh, Teldin pulled the thingfinder to him and picked it up. As Dyffed mumbled apologies, Teldin held up the box as he had seen Dyffed do, placing the glass plate in front of his face. He tried to face it in the same direction as the gnome had aimed it, thinking all the while about a giant, balking black slug-as best as he could visualize one.
Almost at once, he felt a sort of tickling sensation inside his head. It was difficult to describe it as anything else. The image of a giant slug sharpened in his mind until he thought he would see it: a creature perhaps a third the length of the old Probe, gleaming black and very thick. From the near end of the beast sprouted a handful of whiplike tentacles, two of them especially thick and having bulbous ends. Between the tentacle roots was a huge, circular mouth rimmed with a double row of long yellow-gray fangs. Curiously, above the treat central mouth was a large human-type mouth.
With a shock, Teldin realized that he was. looking at such a creature. It was clearly visible before him. He knew that the image was not displayed on the glass plate of the thingfinder; Instead, the view of the fal replaced his normal vision, blocking out everything else as if it were the only object in sight. The being appeared to be resting, stretched out full length on invisible ground somewhere.
Abruptly, the bulbous antennae writhed and moved, weeping slowly around as if searching for something nearby.
A sense of dread grew in the back of Teldin's mind, and he was certain that somehow the creature knew it was being watched, but he fought the urge to tear his gaze away from it. This is impossible, he thought; what I'm seeing is merely some sort of magical image the thingfinder is creating. Even if this was the mul, it could not possibly know that-
The creature lifted the front third of its great bulk into the air with an unhurried motion. The head-if he could call it that-tilted and moved until it was aimed directly at Teldin, one two thickest antennae pointing at him from their widely separated directions. The upper humanlike mouth moved.
You are greeted. The sensation of the beast's words in Teldin's mind was nothing at all like that when he had once
Chapter Fourteen
"Are those the scro?" Teldin asked, pointing aft at the swarm of distant objects on the horizon. He felt like a fool to ask, but he wanted to be sure.
"That they are, sir!" Gomja shouted, unnecessarily loudly. "We're clearing the deck for helm changeover, so you'll have to come inside! You, too, Mister Jammermaker!"
Teldin quickly got to his feet and headed for the open hatch, still not entirely comfortable to be walking around on the open deck so far from the ground. "We found the fal!" he called. "It's off that way, ahead but up and to the right, to starboard!" He looked down at Dyffed, but the gnome was busy watching the approaching fleet through his thingfinder. Teldin grabbed the gnome by the shoulders and propelled him toward the hatch.
One minute later, Teldin pulled the hatch shut behind him and bolted it tight, then descended the last few rungs on the ladder to the deck. He fought down a brief surge of claustrophobia, telling himself that one day he wouldn't have to face being cooped up in a gnomish ship ever again-at least, not if the gods were kind.
"We've been going too slowly for too long, sir," Gomja said, checking Teldin's bolting of the hatch. He climbed down the ladder, looking grim. "Aelfred wants to pull Loomfinger off the helm and put Sylvie back on. You should go to your cabin during changeover. I believe we'll have some trouble there, but it shouldn't last long. I'll handle everything else around here."
"I can give a hand, I'm sure," Teldin started to say. The huge giff shook his head vigorously. "That won't be necessary. We're not going to go above to shoot back at the scro this time. We lack the troops, and the wind will be too great when Sylvie takes over. Just-"
The door into the room banged open unexpectedly. An overweight, sweating gnome hurried into the room, panting as if he'd run a long distance, and bounced off Gomja's massive left leg before coming to a stop. "Teldin Mayor," he announced, red faced and out of breath. "Captain Albert Silverhand requests-no, wait. Captain Albert Silverhorn requests your-Captain Aelfred Hornsilver requests-oh, bother! The captain would like to see you in the helm room right away if you have a moment for an emergency now, unless it's a bother."
Gomja appeared stunned for a moment at the message but quickly recovered himself. "Calm yourself and get your message straight, Private," Gomja ordered the gnome. The gnome immediately sat down and tried to catch his breath, repeating his message softly to himself to straighten it out. Gomja turned back to Teldin with a concerned look on his face. "I wouldn't worry about it, sir. I think Gurfley here has his message twisted around. I'll get it straightened out and tell you later in your cabin. Get some rest."
"I think I got the basic idea of what the message was," Teldin said. "I'll find out what's going on with Aelfred."
"But sir!" Gomja called anxiously. "Changeover could be dangerous. I don't think it would be wise to go there yet. Wait until it's over, at least."
Teldin hesitated. Gomja might have a point. He waved to the giff and said, "Whatever you say," then left the room, closing the door behind him. On impulse, he set off for the helm room anyway. Aelfred wouldn't ask for him unless it was at least remotely important.
Teldin made the trip through the low, narrow corridors of the ship with better than usual speed, stumbling over gnomes only twice. When he arrived in the helm room, he found Loomfinger on the elaborately decorated helm, perched nervously on the edge of the thronelike seat. Aelfred and Sylvie were there, as was Gaye, standing almost in a corner of the room. Gaye immediately smiled and waved at Teldin when he entered. Aelfred glanced at him, then turned his attention back to Sylvie.