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The scene expanded as the field zoomed in. Irregular blocks and streets became visible, then individual buildings within the blocks. Then - the picture shimmered, a rash of mottled blotches appeared scattered across the surface, and the edge of the flat viewing disc began to smoke.

“What -” said Max.

“I don’t know!” Karlini said. The blotches bulged out into the room, the images around them stretching like paintings on taffy. A horrendous high-pitched whine built. One by one in a rapid-fire barrage the bubbling spots abruptly popped like pricked balloons, the view around each one fracturing into kaleidoscope shards, and an intense silver light burst in pulsing rays through the holes. Streamers of lightning spread out and reached for Karlini. Karlini’s fingers were a blur, smoke and sparks coming from them as well as from the ruptured disc. “Max!” he yelled, “I can’t hold it!”

The image in the ring was gone and the plate of silver light shone through like a sun. Max, who had been gesturing too, reeled off a string of figures. The figures spun into formation and darted into the ring. The surface of the silver plate heaved, the center swelled up, and then Karlini’s original meshwork ball pushed itself through, the orange mesh framework trailing interwoven threads of burning silver. Karlini’s construct was no longer a ball but rather a writhing amoeboid blob, its neat grid lines shooting off in wild hyperbolic sprays, irregular fragments curling back to pierce the structure and coil through its walls. A shudder ran through the blob as Max’s second barrage danced along its surface. The roaring whine intensified. Max’s amulet, which had been quivering on his chest, jumped out of his shirt, lights playing in the tiny sapphires and larger stones. A tendril of lightning grazed the seagull and one of its tail feathers burst into flame. Roni, who had been deflecting the lightning, was sheeting sweat, her hands quivering in violent tremors, fasciculations twitching over her brow. The center of the silver disc opened and drew back. Behind it was a giant eye.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Max growled. He thrust his left hand into the bowl of hard candies, closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and concentrated. A small concave plate, the concave surface covered with fuzz and the back side festooned with multicolored lumps and tubes and strange waving appendages, appeared in the air over the bowl. Almost faster than vision could discriminate, the plate split into four much smaller but otherwise identical versions of itself, each of the four split into four, those split and split again, how many times an observer could not possibly tell, and then this cloud of spinning motes dove down Max’s arm and into his hand.

The bowl heaved and blew apart, fragments of bowl and pulverized candy spraying around the room like tiny, brightly colored missiles. Max’s fist, though, had clenched around a handful of the candies, and a swirling haze had appeared around his hand. Strong red light leaked from between his fingers, streaming directly into the haze, as the haze seemed to be vacuuming the light up into itself. Bands of light ran up his arm like small animals through a boa constrictor. Max raised his arm, the hand still clenched, raised it over his head, turned it behind his body - and then, with one convulsive hurling swing, whipped his arm around. A ball of sizzling plasma hurtled out of Max’s hand at the head of a solid beam that started at his shoulder and ran rippling down his arm like a tubular stiletto. The plasma ball went through the center of the ring into the questing eye and the beam hit the silver disc. The disc flew into shreds. The silver congealed like clotting blood as the disc dropped to the floor, wobbled on one edge, toppled over, and exploded. Globs of sizzling silver goo rained down. Low sizzles and plops from the molten silver echoed in the sudden silence.

Karlini and Roni pulled themselves to their feet. The seagull peeped tentatively out from under an overturned armchair. Max raised himself to a sitting position, propping himself up against the far wall, where the recoil had thrown him. “You wanted to know about coupling?” Max said, still gritting his teeth. “That was coupling.”

“It’s not very neat, is it,” Karlini said. He surveyed the room. The air was thick with smoke and plumes rose from the evaporating puddles of silver. All the furniture was scattered back around the walls.

Max’s left sleeve had been shredded completely off and his arm was bright red and oozing fluid. He gingerly raised his arm, rotated it slowly around his shoulder, clenched and unclenched his fist. With his other hand he eased his amulet back inside his shirt. The amulet had a disconcerting habit of popping out at unexpected times; Max didn’t know what all its powers might be, but since it had certainly taken plenty of trouble to steal the thing had to do something useful. “I told you I don’t have the new coupling method quite worked out yet,” he said. “This is the first time I’ve tried to use it. Always seems to work out that way, doesn’t it? You wouldn’t happen to have anything like a medicine kit handy, would you?”

Karlini dug under the bookcase and came up with a small singed satchel. He withdrew a coil of linen and began wrapping it around Max’s arm. “Yeow!” Max said. “Feels like that arm’s been out sunbathing in your desert there for about a week.”

“Just what kind of stunt was that, exactly?” Roni said, still panting. She was mopping her face with a piece of one of the tablecloths.

“Nothing too fancy. I liberated a pile of energy from those candy things and threw it at that eye. Instead of just liberating energy, it’d be better to incorporate it into other stuff, but, well.” He shrugged. “Thanks, Karlini, that’s a lot better.”

“You want to lie down for awhile?” Karlini said.

“Be better to just get on with it. Do you want to lie down? You took a beating from those lightning bolts.”

Karlini squatted back on his haunches and crossed his arms. “If you can go on, I can go on. You know, this didn’t happen the last time I looked at Roosing Oolvaya.”

“I figured as much; I’m sure it didn’t.”

Roni was frowning over at Karlini. “Oskin Yahlei evidently decided he doesn’t want anybody checking up on him.”

“Oskin Yahlei?” Max said.

“That’s who has the ring,” Roni said. “That’s who you’re going after. I think that’s whose eye was in that disc.”

“Never heard of him. How are you so sure he’s the one?”

“That dream I told you about?” Karlini said. “The one I had upstairs in the tower? It left me with a sense. That’s how I found him in the first place.”

“H’m. Well, that’s consistent, anyway. I hope he didn’t get a good look at me.”

“You threw him quite a punch,” Roni said. “He may not be in any condition to fight with anyone for a while.”

Max looked at her and grimaced. “I don’t know. That anti-spy field had a hell of a lot of power in it, plus it was shielded against backlash. I don’t know how much of my bolt really got through. Too bad I had to try a big dumb power-blast in the first place, but it was the handiest thing I could think of at the moment.”

“So what you’re saying,” Karlini said, “you think that blast may have only put him more on his guard?”

Max sighed. “If it was me, I’d take it as a warning. Well, maybe he’ll think it was another god, and he’ll at least have the tact to be surprised when I show up instead.” He stretched his neck, trying to work out some of the kinks from skidding into the wall. “There’s nothing to do for it now. You might as well give me the rest of the story. I’d like to know what else I’m letting myself in for.”

“You don’t want to try another probe?” Karlini said. “Maybe a fine-beam needle probe?”

Max stared at him, then ostentatiously crossed his bandaged arm over the good one.