Tanis watched the busy gnome for a short time, then walked across the stable and threw open the shutters. He folded back the two halves and fastened them in place. "There."
Speaker jumped. "How did you do that?" he shouted. When Tanis showed him, the gnome's face crinkled in revulsion. "Crude. What if no one's around to open the window?"
Tanis was saved from replying, however, by the gnome's burst of activity. The small creature bustled from switch to gear to lever, adjusting the sunbeam collection horn into alignment with the window and traipsing from machine to window and back innumerable times.
"What's in the little box?" Tanis pointed to the tiny box at the tip of the horn. The gnome had fondled it with particular awe.
"My beam-conducting concentration device."
"Which is?"
"A wondrous piece of rock. See!"
The gnome flipped down a little door in the side of the box. Violet light poured into the shadowy stable. Tanis felt his eyes grow wide. "Where did you get that?"
The gnome looked away. "I acquired it-andelevenotherslmightadd-fromaQualinestielfwhohad-retrievedthemfromakenderwhoborrowedthemfroma-hilldwarfwhoboughtthemfromahumanwhowon-themfromagamblingsailorwhogottheminsomefrozen-southernportthenameofwhichlneverlearned-althoughnowlwishlhad."
"In other words, you stole them," Tanis observed. Gnomes were not above outright theft-acceptable in the name of technology and science, of course.
"This could revolutionize…" The gnome stopped at the frown on the half-elf's face. "Ah, what would a half-elf know of science? Elves know only magic, magic, magic." He turned his back and resumed work on his machine. After a while, Tanis realized he'd been dismissed, and he moved toward the open double doors. But he turned back when he heard the gnome crow, "And now the test!"
Speaker Sungear threw the main switch just as the sun rose above the low building to the east. Its beams poured into the window, over the floor, and into the huge metal horn.
"By the gods," Tanis said in awe. Unbelievably, the contraption began to percolate. It spluttered and creaked and groaned, and Tanis remembered Flint reciting a proverb about gnomes: Everything gnomish makes five times the noise it needs to. The air around the horn began to glow. Speaker Sungear leaned forward and hummed a gnomish folk tune into a mesh of wire. Sparks of purple and magenta erupted around the box that held the violet stone. Then the machine gave a hum-the same notes the gnome had hummed. Speaker froze, wordless, before the apparatus; tears streamed down his cheeks. "It works! By the great god Reorx, father of gnomes and dwarves, it works!"
The machine continued to hum-the same tune, over and over, faster and faster. Metal rasped against metal. The violet glow around the stone's box became an angry, plum-colored haze.
Tanis took a step toward the gnome. "Speaker…" The gnome didn't seem to hear him. More sparks spat from the base of the horn. The creaking turned to shuddering, which in turn became convulsions. Bits of metal were being shaken off the contraption. Light and smoke spewed from widening gaps between parts. Tanis leaped to close the shutters. Darkness closed around them, but the machine continued to heave and shudder. "Shut it off!" he shouted to the gnome.
"I…" Speaker faltered. "… can't."
Tanis grabbed the gnome around his thick middle and catapulted toward the open door. Speaker struggled, protesting all the way. "Half-elf, I've got to see what hap-"
Tanis dove into the street just as the contraption, and then the building, shattered into a thousand flaming pieces. Bits of wood and metal rained upon fleeing onlookers. Tanis flung Speaker Sungear under a wagon and dove after him. They caught their breath as dozens of people, in various stages of undress, dashed from surrounding buildings to form a bucket brigade between the conflagration and the town well. A quick check by the half-elf revealed nothing but minor bumps and bruises on either of them.
"It must have been the tangential hydroencephalator, now that I think about it," Speaker said. "Inadequate water filtration to prevent ancillary overheating."
Tanis had nothing to say.
"I've no time to build another device today. Or money, for that matter." For the first time, the gnome seemed deflated. Then he brightened. "Of course, there might be pieces of the device left. Oh!" He dimmed again. "The beam-conducting concentration device!"
"What?" Tanis had about had it with gnomes. "The what?"
"The purple stone. It's destroyed. I saw it explode as you hauled me away." His face crinkled with thought. "This will take some engineering." He seemed delighted at the prospect.
"Didn't you say you'd 'acquired' eleven others?" Tanis asked.
"Yes, but I sold them to buy wire. Nearly a year ago. To a mage. Before I knew what technological promise they held." The gnome mused, "Perhaps I could buy them back… but I have no money."
"You could always steal them back," Tanis said spitefully, and he began to back out from under the wagon. Speaker Sungear looked reproachfully at him, and the half-elf relented. "Why don't you just tell
people your important news? Wouldn't that be just as efficient under the circumstances?" he added tactfully.
"Yes, but…"
"So stand on the street corner and holler."
The gnome looked aghast. "Do it myself?"
Tanis nodded.
"Me, a town crier," Speaker muttered. "If my mother could see me. So unscientific. So inefficient."
"So necessary."
With another reproachful glance, Speaker Sungear crawled out from under the wagon. Ignoring the throngs of people who'd gathered to watch the fire burn itself out and without so much as a glance back at the smoldering heap of wreckage that used to be his laboratory, the gnome started toward the busiest corner of the market. Tanis trailed behind. Speaker took up a stance. "Hear ye, hear ye!" the gnome bellowed. No one listened.
Tanis sidled up to Speaker. "You need a platform of some kind," he advised.
The gnome looked about. "I could build one," he conceded. "An automatic gnome-lifting trans-"
In reply, the half-elf scooped up the gnome and set him on one wide shoulder. "Now, town crier, spread your news."
"Oh, this is so… manual," Speaker murmured, clutching the half-elf's auburn hair to keep his balance. Then he waved the other hand and bellowed "Hear ye, hear ye!" again. This time several people turned to listen. "I have news…"
He recited his litany of news-only three items, it turned out, but one drew Tanis's attention. "The heads of the Haven agricultural consortium, meeting in an emergency session, have offered a reward of fifteen steel to the person or persons who kill the ettin that's been slaying farm stock south of Haven," Speaker trumpeted.
"What's an ettin?" a man shouted from the back of the throng.
"An ettin is a creature, twelve or thirteen feet tall, with two heads, usually native to cold, mountainous climates. It is related to the trolls, and in fact is sometimes called a two-headed troll."
The crowd murmured. The man in question shook his head and moved away, followed by several others. Speaker continued, "The ettin eats only meat. In fact, this one has slaughtered and devoured fully a half-dozen cows, several dogs, numerous chickens, and a dozen sheep. Last night it came upon and attacked a shepherd south of Haven. The man assayed to stop the beast from raiding his flock and paid with his life."