She had begun wondering what kind of man kept such strange familiars. Never before had she encountered anything that reeked so of both Pr’fett and essence as this “robot.” It felt like a thing… yet it moved and acted as if it were alive!
Dennis ordered the robot to keep watch outside and closed the door.
The room was a clutter of bits of wood and leather and cord—piles of lumber and rough cloth, and flimsy contraptions that would have done a kindergartner on Earth proud.
“Hey, Dennizz,” Arth said, pouring three cups of brandy from a brown bottle, “I’ve been tryin’ my hand at makin’, like you do! Can I show you some of my projects? I think I’ve figured out a real good way to trap mice, for instance.”
“Umm, I don’t think we have the time, Arth. The alarm should be out any time now.”
Linnora coughed. Her cheeks flushed and she stared at the cup in her hand. She sniffed at the liquor, then attempted another sip.
The thief nodded. “I suppose you’ll want to see the glider, then.”
Dennis had been afraid to ask. “You did it! I knew you could!”
“Aw, t’wasn’t no big thing.” Arth reddened. “Th’ slippery oil made it a snap. It’s over here under this pile of rubbish. They let out quite a fuss when they found it missing. But with the Baron out of action they never got a good search together.”
Dennis helped him pull the debris off Soon a neatly folded roll of silky fabric and slender wooden struts came into view. “It’s a good thing you made it up here tonight,” Arth mused critically, “Another couple of weeks an’ the thing would have lapsed back into being a kite. I guess you won’t have any trouble flyin’ it now, though.”
From your mouth to my ear, Dennis thought as he helped Arth carry the heavy, two-man glider out the doorway and up to the palace roof.
Dennis had to reassemble the thing almost by himself in the moonlight. The others tried to help, but Linnora was frightened by the great, flapping wings, and Arth kept making irrelevant suggestions and needlessly urging him to hurry.
The rising wind pulled at the fabric, frequently tugging it almost out of Dennis’s hands. He managed to get the glider’s wings extended and was searching for the locking mechanism when the alarm finally sounded below. It began in one corner of the castle, down near the bottom story, and spread until the night was filled with a chaos of bells, shouts, and running feet.
They must have found one of the sets of guards he and the robot had knocked out.
He found the latch at last. The cloth wings, which had been flapping in the stiff breeze, suddenly snapped taut with a loud report.
From two parapets below Dennis heard worried queries. Of course Arth’s guard failed to answer. Soon there were footsteps not far below.
“No time for experimentation,” he muttered. “Arth! Slip into the rear saddle to anchor it down!”
The big glider bucked and hopped until Arth had settled in. Even then it would not stay still. Dennis motioned for the robot to come. He knelt, still holding the edge of one flapping wing.
“Instructions!” he told the little automaton. “Go below and delay those who are approaching until we are gone. After that, attempt to survive and follow however you can. We’ll try to head west by southwest!”
The ’bot’s green acceptance light flashed. It swiveled and sped away, swiftly negotiating the plank ramp they had used to climb onto the roof.
Dennis heard booted footsteps on the stairwells below this level. They didn’t have much time.
Arth was in his place in the strap saddle, as Dennis had showed him. Arth looked completely confident. He had seen the “balloon” soaring through the night and knew now that Dennis could manage flying things. The distinction between a balloon and a glider was inconsequential to him.
“This is a two-man glider,” Dennis said, “but you two don’t weigh much more than one big man. Linnora can ride with Arth on the rear seat. All we have to do is make it out of town, anyway.”
But Linnora clutched her cloak around her, staring at the great flapping wings. She looked at Dennis, all her doubts brought back at once.
I don’t blame her, Dennis thought. She’s a savvy lady, but she’s not prepared for this.
All three of them could die in this attempt. Some might say that what Kremer had in store for her would be worse than death. But while one lived there was always a chance.
She held her klasmodion to her breast as the gusty wind tugged at the great kite, almost dragging Dennis and Arth along the roof. The glider was like a powerful bird, straining at a tether—eager to be airborne.
Suddenly there were thuds and dismayed shouts from the landing below. The robot was making its stand at the head of the stairs.
Dennis looked at the L’Toff Princess, and her eyes met his. He could tell she wanted to trust him. But this was all too sudden, too alien for her.
He couldn’t drag her along by force. But neither could he bring himself to leave her behind.
Linnora caught sight of it first, when the small figure appeared clambering over the ledge. She gasped and stared to the left. Dennis swiveled quickly and saw a tiny face—a pair of small green eyes and two rows of grinning, sharp teeth.
“A Krenegee!” Linnora said with a sigh.
The pixolet grinned. It scrambled onto the roof, then launched itself into the breeze. With outspread wing membranes it sailed lazily to Dennis and landed on his shoulder. Tiny claws bit into his cloak and jabbed his skin underneath.
Dennis had to struggle with his skidding feet, grappling with the bucking glider, cursing the wind and the stupid, irritating creature purring by his ear.
But Arth stared with superstitious awe, and when Linnora spoke, Dennis could barely hear her over the wind.
“The Krenegee chooses whom it will—and those whom it chooses make the world…” she said.
It sounded like a litany. Perhaps the pixolet’s species was some sort of totem for her people. Maybe Pix might do some good for somebody after all!
He held out his hand to Linnora, and this time she stepped forward and took it readily, as if in a daze. He guided her into the rear saddle, in front of Arth, and told the thief to hold on to her as he would his life.
There came a series of screams and loud crashes from below as another group assaulted the head of the stairs.
He felt a little guilty leaving the robot to face all that alone. It was only a machine, of course. But here on Tatir, that only wasn’t as easy an excuse as on Earth.
The soldiers were getting organized. Dennis heard officers shouting and what had to be entire platoons trooping quickly up the stairs. It wouldn’t be long now.
The wind rose again. Dennis had to fight down a wave of uncertainty as he looked out upon the rough, dimly perceived terrain. The spires of Zuslik town lurked against the hulking mountains beyond. The twisting, moonlit river glistened. Jagged outlines told of ship masts by the docks.
He looked back at his passengers. The pixolet purred and Linnora’s eyes now shone with a confidence he could not understand, though it felt good.
Somewhere below, a captain with a shrill voice was haranguing his men for a charge. It was definitely time to go.
“All right,” he told Arth and Linnora, “now I want you all to think up very hard, lean the way I lean, and jump with me when I say the magic word—’Geronimo!’”
4
The very instant they were airborne, Dennis was filled with a not unreasonable wish he could go back and try to think of something else.