Tanis interrupted. "Speak more slowly."
The gnome looked up from the computations he was already scrawling on a slip of parchment. "Eh?"
"Slowly," the half-elf repeated.
Light dawned in the gnome's face. With a visible effort, he interjected a half-breath between every word. "I'm… sorry… I… forget… I'm… not… among… my fellows." He inhaled deeply. Obviously it took more energy for him to speak slowly than to blurt out the unending sentences that marked the speech of the gnomes. Gnomes, who could talk and listen at the same time, believed continuous speech by all conversants was more efficient than the balky give-and-take chatting of the other races.
Tanis introduced himself. "What's your name?" he added, then saw his error too late. "Wait!"
"Speaker-SungearsonofBeamcatcherSungearillustrious-inventoroftheperiluminohighspeedelevatorand-grandsonof…"
The rest of the name-gnomish names, which included genealogical history stretching back dozens of generations, could go on for hours-was muffled by Tanis's hand, clapped over the gnome's mouth. The piping tones trailed off, and the creature glared up at Tanis. Behind them, the last bucket of water extinguished the last of the blaze with a splash and a hiss, and the grumbling fire fighters left.
"What do humans call you?" the half-elf asked in the sudden silence, releasing his hand gingerly.
"Speaker… Sungear," came the reply. "Of the Communications Guild."
Gnomish workers were divided into various guilds-agricultural, philosophical, education, and many others. "I haven't heard of the Gnomish Communications Guild," Tanis observed.
"You will, once I'm through here," Speaker said, turning back to his project. Speaking slowly seemed to come easier now that the excitement of the fire was past. "I'm going to form it as soon as I perfect this mechanism."
Tanis looked up at the contraption, fashioned of gears of all sizes, wire in three colors, and a gigantic horn shaped like a morning glory blossom. The horn's tip fit into a small box the size of the half-elf's thumb. "It seems a bit large to call it a mere mechanism," the half-elf observed.
"Oh, it has a much longer name, of course. It's actually a…"
"No!" Tanis shouted, just in time. "Mechanism is fine."
Speaker looked disappointed. But he shrugged and continued adjusting dozens of knobs and toggle switches on the machine. Finally he stood atop the stool to reach one knob, which he called "an adjustatory demarcation facilitator."
"What does it do?" Tanis finally asked.
"Do?" Speaker repeated. Standing on the stool, his exasperated face was mere inches from Tanis's. "It facilitates the adjustatory demarcation option. Isn't it obvious, half-elf?"
Tanis gazed again at the shiny but ash-spotted apparatus. Then he looked back at Speaker Sungear. The gnome sighed heavily and sat down on the stool. "This apparatus will revolutionize life on Ansalon," the gnome said.
Tanis looked from Speaker to the machine. "Really."
The gnome nodded vigorously. "It will allow all races to speak to one another without being anywhere near each other!"
"Really." Tanis wondered if Speaker Sungear had received a knock to his noggin when he tumbled through the door.
"Really," the half-elf reiterated, gazing at the machine.
"Why?" the gnome demanded. "What does it look like it would do?"
Tanis strolled before the contraption. "It looks like its chief purpose is to make noise." The gnome looked askance. The half-elf reached out to touch a toggle switch, only to bring Speaker Sungear tumbling from his stool in frantic haste.
"This is a carefully adjusted mechanism! Not for amateurs to fool with."
Speaker's expression told the half-elf that the gnome thought his visitor had the intelligence of a gully dwarf. "This"-he pointed to the flower-shaped horn-"collects sunlight, focuses it through my special illuminatory derivation device"-he pointed to the small box at the base of the horn-"and picks up the auditory emanations of ordinary speech"-he indicated a series of small gears ribboned with copper wire-"and translates the auditory ululations into illuminatory permutational vectors"-he showed Tanis a spool wrapped with more wire and a paper covered with figures-"which can be perceived and retranslated back into auditory emanations suitable for comprehension by the ordinary ear!" He stood back and folded his arms across his small chest. It was apparent that he expected an outburst of applause.
"You don't say," Tanis said. He cast about for something else to say. "Why?"
The gnome's violet eyes bugged. "Why? Why!" A pinkish streak was forming across his cheeks and nose. Tanis hoped it wasn't a sign that the gnome was having an apoplectic seizure.
Speaker Sungear inclined his head. The blush faded from his face. "How do you find out about events now?" he asked in an almost fatherly tone, as if explaining dewdrops to a child.
Tanis thought. "From friends. At alehouses. Overhearing things on the road."
"And in larger towns?"
Tanis felt his brow furrow. "Larger alehouses?" he guessed.
Speaker rolled his eyes. "Town criers!" he crowed triumphantly.
"Oh. Town criers."
"Think about it-some human standing on a street corner, yelling the day's events to passersby. It's not efficient!" That seemed to be the worst condemnation the gnome could devise. "Think of the improvements in communication if we could get machines to do it!" Speaker Sungear was enthralled with his notion.
"Machines?"
"Specifically my machine here. It will translate sound into sunlight and back into sound. We could send messages with this apparatus, learn about events in far-off corners of Ansalon almost as they happened!" Speaker, tears in his eyes, caressed the contraption with one hand, then cocked his head. "In fact, as a test, I will use this very machine to transmit some important news to all the inhabitants of Haven." Speaker's mustache drooped. "Of course there are a few wrinkles to smooth out."
"I should say." Tanis decided the creature was harmless, and certainly entertaining. He pulled up a wooden barrel and seated himself. "Tell me more."
"Well, the technological aspect I was working on when… when…" Speaker floundered.
"… when the bugger exploded?" Tanis supplied helpfully.
Speaker cast him a dirty look. "… when I experienced a momentary scientific setback was the illuminatory collection function." He explained how fully half the machine's workings were devoted to collecting the rays of the sun and concentrating them in the tiny box at the tip of the horn. "But I need to create an egress to the outdoors through which the illuminatory emanations will be transmortified. I've tried yards of tubing"-coils of which looped up to a hole in the roof-"but the light evaporates before it ever drains into the device."
"Why not move the contraption outside?" Tanis suggested. "There's plenty of sun out there."
"Unscientific," the gnome said. "Anyway, the device will rust if it gets rained on."
Tanis pointed across the room to the eastern wall. The rising sun made coronas around cracks in the wooden shutter that blocked the window opening. "Why not just open the shutters?"
Speaker looked from him to the window. He murmured and stroked his bearded chin. "It just might work," he agreed. "I'll need an automated illuminatory facilitation coordinator, using wire and a trip switch and…" He set to work, turning his back on the half-elf.