Threbus rubbed his chin. “There’s a world named Karres,” he remarked, “but Karres isn’t that world. Neither is it an organization of witches. You might say it comes closest to being a set of attitudes, a frame of mind.”
The captain looked at him. “I don’t think I—”
“On Uldune,” continued Threbus, “you discovered a bad and very dangerous situation. It was none of your business. Involving yourself in it would mean assuming the gravest sort of responsibility. It would also mean exposing yourself and Goth to the horrendous threat of the Nuris—”
“Well, yes,” acknowledged the captain. “But we knew there was no one else around who could do it.”
“No, there wasn’t,” Threbus agreed. “Now, in making the decision you did, you revealed yourself to be a member in good standing of the community of Karres, whether you were aware of the fact or not. It isn’t a question of witchcraft. Witchcraft is a tool. There are other tools. And keeping away from a world of that name does not mean dissociating yourself from Karres. Whether you do dissociate yourself or not will again be your decision.”
The captain considered him for some seconds. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“As I’ve indicated, it’s a question of what you’ll want to do,” Threbus told him. “However, I might suggest various possibilities. I’ve admired your ship. It has speed, range, capacity, adequate armament. An almost perfect trader, freight and passenger carrier. You could turn it to nearly any purpose you chose.”
The captain nodded. “That was the idea.”
“Such a ship is a valuable tool,” Threbus observed. “Particularly in combination with a skipper like yourself and the touch of audacious magic which is my daughter Goth. If you were operating in the Regency of Hailie, as a start, you would find profitable standard consignments coming your way almost automatically. Along with them would come nonstandard items, which must be taken from one place to another without attracting attention or at least without being intercepted. Sometimes these would be persons, sometimes documents or other materials.”
“The Venture would be working on Karres business?” asked the captain.
“On the business of the Empress Hailie, which is also the business of Karres. You’d be a special courier, carrying the Seal of Hailie. Of course the Empire’s internal politics is a game that’s being played with considerable ferocity… you couldn’t afford to get careless.”
“No, I can see that. As a matter of fact,” remarked the captain, “I’d intended avoiding the Empire for a while. Apparently a good many people are aware by now that the Venture has a special drive on board they feel would be worth acquiring. Changing her name and ours doesn’t seem to have fooled them much.”
“That part of it shouldn’t be a problem much longer, Pausert. We’re letting it become known that Karres has the Sheewash Drive and what it is. Simultaneously the word is spreading that Karres has destroyed the Worm World. We’re borrowing your glory for a good purpose. The net effect will be that people informed enough to suspect the Venture possesses the Sheewash Drive will also be informed enough to feel no one in their senses would meddle with such a ship… Well, great-nephew, what do you think?”
“I think, great-uncle,” said the captain, “that the Empress has acquired a new special courier.”
There had been a question of what should be done about the Nuri globes left behind after Manaret vanished from the universe. Many of the swarms which engaged Karres in the Tark Nembi cluster had been destroyed; but others slipped away into the Chaladoor, and the number of globes scattered about the galactic sector which had not been involved in the conflict was difficult to estimate. However, evidence came in within a few days that the problem was resolving itself in unexpected fashion. Globes had been observed here and there; and all drifted aimlessly through space, apparently in a process of rapid dissolution. In what manner they had drawn on the Worm World’s energies to sustain them wherever they went never became known. But with Manaret gone the Nuri remnants died quickly. They might remain a frightful legend for centuries to come, but the last actual sighting of a globe was recorded a scant four days after the Venture’s landing on Emris. It was a darkened, feebly flickering thing then, barely recognizable.
Satisfactory progress was being made, the captain heard, in establishing contact with Olimy in his disminded condition, though the Karres experts in such matters felt it still would be a lengthy, painstaking procedure to restore him fully to the here-and-now. Meanwhile, with the Venture’s future role settled, and an early departure date indicated to get him out of the hair of his politely patient witch friends here, the captain had his time fully taken up with consultations, appointments, and supervision of assorted preparations involved with the lift-off. One day, coming through the lobby of a hotel off the province’s main port, to which the Venture had been transferred after completion of the internal repair work, he found himself walking towards the slender elegance of Hulik do Eldel. They had a drink together for old times’ sake, and Hulik told him she hadn’t decided yet what her next move would be. Presently she inquired about Vezzarn. The captain said he’d paid off the old spacer, adding a bonus to the risk run money, and that Vezzarn had seemed reluctant to leave the Venture, which surprised the captain, considering the kind of trip they’d had.
“It was an unusual one,” Hulik agreed. “But you brought us through in the end. How I’ll never understand.” She looked at him a moment. “And you told me you weren’t a witch!”
“I’m not really,” said the captain.
“Well, perhaps not. But Vezzarn may feel now you’re a skipper the crew can depend on in any circumstances. For that matter, if you plan any more risk runs in a direction I might be interested in, be sure to let me know!”
The captain thanked her, said he wasn’t planning any at present, and they parted pleasantly. He had another encounter, a rather curious one, some hours later. He was hurrying along one of the upper halls of the governor’s palace, looking for an office Threbus maintained there. When the Venture left, two days from now, she would have two unlisted passengers on board to be carried secretly to the Regency of Hailie; and he was to be introduced to them in the office in a few minutes. So far he’d been unable to locate it. Deciding finally that he must have passed it in the maze of spacious hallways which made up the business section of the palace, he turned to retrace his steps. Coming up to a comer, he moved aside to let a small, slender lady wearing a huge hat and a lustrous fur jacket walk past, trailed by a stocky dog. The captain went on around the comer, then checked abruptly and came back to stare after the two.
What had caught his notice first was that the lady’s jacket was made up of the fabulously expensive tozzami furs of Karres, of which he’d sold a hundred and twenty-five on Uldune. Then there’d been something familiar about that chunky, yellow, sour-faced dog -
Yes, of course! He hurried after them, grinning. “Just a moment!” he said as he came up.
They turned to look at him. The lady’s face was concealed by a dark veil which hung from the brim of the hat, but the dog was giving him a cold, gray-eyed stare — and that, too, was familiar enough! The captain chuckled, reached out, took the tip of the big hat between thumb and finger and lifted it gently. Beneath it appeared the delicate nonhuman face, the grass-green eyes, the tousled red mane and pointed ears of the Nartheby Sprite image Goth had assumed in Moander’s stronghold.