“You were talking to...” It was Dennis’s turn to blink. “Show me,” he asked at last.
The L’Toff ladies were shocked even more when they saw the wizard and their Princess crawl down together into the grass and dirt. The women made ready to turn modestly away if their worst fears proved true.
They gave out relieved sighs. Linnora hadn’t been so debased down in the lowlands. But then what were they doing squirming under there like that?
The ladies realized, with regret that things would never be the same as they once were.
3
They had not really needed to crawl under the plane to examine the robot. Dennis realized later that he could have ordered the little automaton to drop the propeller, and its grip on the undercarriage, and come out. But by now it looked so much a part of the craft that it never even occurred to him at the time. The series of powerful practice trances, amplified by the magic of the Krenegee beast, had transformed the machine until it looked inseparable from the gleaming wooden flyer.
When Linnora said she had been “talking” to the robot, she meant that she had done the actual speaking. The ’bot had replied using its little display screen.
Dennis frowned as he looked at the rows of flowing Coylian script on the pearly rectangle. He couldn’t read the alien tongue as quickly as it sped past. Besides, he wondered, how had the robot learned to…
Of course, he realized quickly. Since almost his first moment on Tatir, the machine had been gathering information on the inhabitants, at his command. Naturally, that included learning the writing they used here.
“Split screen,” he commanded. “Coylian script on the left, Earth English translation on the right.”
The text parted into two versions of the same report. He and Linnora had to crawl in a little farther to read, then, but that only brought them closer together, and he couldn’t think of that as a disadvantage.
Immediately he noticed something interesting. Though Coylian letters were part of a syllabary, and English/Roman letters were a true alphabet, the two systems clearly shared a common style. The “th” sound in Coylian, for instance, looked like a mutated “t” and “h” melded together.
Dennis recalled some of the calculations he had played with during his imprisonment. With a growing sense of excitement, he began to suspect that one of the theories he had come up with back then just might be true.
He read the text for a while. It was a summary of early Coylian history, found on some ancient scrolls the ’bot had pilfered temporarily from a temple in Zuslik. The scrolls had referred specifically to the Old Belief, once followed widely on Tatir, but now adhered to only by the L’Toff and a few others. It seemed to consist mostly of apparent myth and legend, but interspersed through the gaudy stories, Dennis thought he saw a pattern.
Dennis asked the robot to skim back to earlier entries, then ahead again. Linnora watched, fascinated, and from rime to time suggested passages she had read earlier. Occasionally she stopped to explain a meaning he had not come across before.
They spent a long time together under the cart, reading the correlated history of a world.
Dennis was starting to get a crick in his neck when he finally felt he had enough data. The conclusion seemed incontrovertible.
“This isn’t only another planet!” he declared. “It’s also the future!”
Linnora rolled over and looked at him.
“Yes, for you it is, my wizard from the past. Does this change things? Would you still marry with one who might be your distant descendant?”
Dennis moved closer and kissed her. “I had no strong ties to my time,” he told her. “And you can’t be my descendant. I never had any kids.”
Linnora sighed. “Well, that, too, can be remedied.”
Dennis was about to kiss her again, and the ladies at the edge of the grove might have been shocked even more. But there came a sudden shout from somewhere directly overhead.
“Dennizz! Princess!”
This time there were two thumps and two series of muttered oaths. Both Linnora and Dennis emerged rubbing their heads. But they grinned when they saw who awaited them. “Arth!”
It was, indeed, the diminutive thief. A crowd of L’Toff had gathered, and they watched in hushed admiration from the edge of the glade, for a Krenegee sat on Arth’s shoulder, purring.
Dennis clasped his friend. “So Proll’s men were able to find you! I was afraid our description of that plateau wouldn’t be good enough and we’d have to go after you in the plane. We were worried about you!”
Arth scratched the purring pixolet under the chin. “Oh, I was okay,” he said nonchalantly. “I spent th’ time bangin’ sticks together to make another flyin’ cart. Woulda tried it out, too, but th’ L’Toff an’ Demsen’s scouts came for me.”
Dennis shuddered at the thought. He would have to have a good talk with the fellow—and with Linnora and Gath and anyone else who suffered under the illusion that Earth technology could just be banged together. Practice Effect or no, some things had to work right the first time!
“Well, just as long as you’re all right.”
“Sure, I’m fine. Sent a message to Maggin with Demsen’s troops. Asked th’ little lady to come out here from Zuslik to join me here for a vacation—with your Highness’s permission, o’ course.” He bowed to Linnora. Linnora only laughed and hugged the little thief.
“Oh, by th’ way,” Arth went on, “I don’t know if you both have heard, but I guess you’d be interested. It seems Demsen’s boys caught up with a company of Kremer’s men out near North Pass. And guess who was with ’em? None other than our old friend Hoss’k!”
“Hoss’k!”
“Yeah. Th’ deacon got away, worse luck. But th’ Scouts did capture a strange fellow who was with Hoss’k. A prisoner, it seems. They got him back at Linsee’s tent now.
“Funny thing, though. You know he talks a lot like you, Dennizz? All funny an’ open in th’ back of the throat, with that strange accent o’ yours.
“An’ some of th’ captured hillmen said he was another wizard!”
Dennis and Linnora looked at each other. “I think we had better look into this,” the Princess said.
4
“Well, Brady. So Flaster chose you to come after me. He sure took his time about it.”
The sandy-haired fellow sitting gloomily in the camp chair turned quickly about and stared.
“Nuel! It’s you? Oh, lord, it’s good to see a fellow Earthman!”
Bernald Brady looked harried and exhausted. He had a bruise on his forehead, and his typical snide expression had been replaced by apparently genuine delight and relief at the sight of Dennis.
Linnora and Arth followed Dennis into the tent. Brady’s eyes widened on seeing the creature riding Arth’s shoulder, and he backed away.
The pixolet apparently remembered Brady, too. It hissed unappreciatively and bared its teeth. Finally Arth had to take it outside.
When they were gone, Brady turned imploringly to Dennis. “Nuel, please! Can you tell me what is going on here? This place is crazy! First I find the zievatron in pieces, and your weird note. Then all my equipment shows signs of acting funny. Finally, I get conked on the head by some big slob who acts like Minister Calumny himself and has a bunch of thugs strip me of all my gear…”
“They took your weapons? I was afraid of that.” Dennis grimaced. Kremer already had his needler, and there was no telling what other arms the ever-cautious Brady had brought along. No doubt Brady had not stinted quality in outfitting himself. With all that stuff, Kremer could still turn out to be a big pain down the road.