Part 105 (1/2)

The tally of Firvulag goals mounted more and more rapidly.

By 1400 hours the Little People led 50-33. An hour later their lead had increased to 87-36. The sky grew ever more lowering and oppressive, charged with noxious positive ions, ozone, and a distinct odour of sulphur in addition to the hash of sinister vibes.

Fresh rumours flew about the thinning crowd of spectators: Mont-Dore was erupting! (But only in a minor fas.h.i.+on.) Thunderstorms had ignited gra.s.sfires on the tinder-dry prairies to the west! (But the nearest conflagration was twenty kloms away.) The time-warper was running out of steam! (Bulls.h.i.+t. The thing drew most of its energy from telluric currents in the planetary crust itself. Its power-drain would be very low.) King AikenLugonn was ready to throw in the towel! (Oh, yes? Well, there were still forty-five minutes left to play-and anything could happen when the s.h.i.+ning One was part of the fracas!) AIKEN: Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: Yes, dear.

AIKEN: Gads! I'm surprised to find you still here, babe ... You decided not to waft away after all?

ELIZABETH: Marc and I are discussing things.

AIKEN: I had a sneaking suspicion you might be ... Babe, that metaconcert program he gave the Firvulag is killing us. We're going to lose this ball game-and the Little People haven't even begun to focus their full mental potential on us. I think they're holding back the terminal zorch for the clincher-the signal for Nightfall.

ELIZABETH: Oh, Aiken. But if it becomes plain that the a.s.sault is of lethal intent, you'll be free to use your weapons and your aircraftAIKEN: By then, we may be goners. Or I may be-which amounts to the same thing. If I were Sharn and Ayfa, I'd funnel the entire psychocreative load at Me just before old Heymdol blows the Last Trump.

ELIZABETH: Marc-can't you do something?

MARC: I promised the Firvulag that I would never use my destructive potential against them.

ELIZABETH: The metaconcert then-!

MARC: I can't rescind it, nor is it susceptible of sabotage. I played fair with the Little People as I did with both of you.

AIKEN: I was afraid you might have. Well ... I guess that's that. Thanks for the memories, you two. Think about Me as you work out your little penances for the next six million years.

MARC: Just a moment. Are you restricted as to your garb in this game?

AIKEN: ? We wear our usual Grand Combat regalia, but I suppose anything goes. What's this got to do with the fending of Ragnarok?

MARC: I'll show you.

All but hidden in smoky haze, the sun dropped toward the western forest horizon. But the game was rocketing madly in the opposite direction, toward the Rainbow Bridge and Nionel.

Aiken Drum and his depleted band of defenders, englobed in a mental s.h.i.+eld, were running away with the ball.

Outraged gnomes and ogres trampled through the concession stands, blasted aside the flimsy riverside bleachers, poured in a demonic torrent through empty picnic areas and pleasances, and charged the Tanu stalwarts blocking the approach to the bridge.

The spectrum colours of the great arch had a preternaturally brilliant glow. A single low-angled beam of sunlight broke the cloud cover and illuminated gold-domed Nionel.

Out in the middle of the span was the King's protective bubble-and on top of its flexible surface bounced the enormous ball, insolently inaccessible in spite of the combined mental power of the Firvulag seeking vainly to s.n.a.t.c.h it away.

”Pull it down!” Ayfa entreated her husband. ”What's wrong with us? How can that little scoundrel be countering our concerted effort like this?”

”He's getting help!” Sharn gasped. ”From somewhere on the other side of the river. Te's Tonsils-it's the Howlers lending him their minds!”

”Perfidious misbegottens!” raged the Queen. ”There's nothing for it, Sharn. We'll have to hit him with everything we've got. Right now. Before the Last Trump.”

”We'll burst the ball-lose the game by default!”

”And win the Nightfall War, you great blockhead!” she screamed. ”Order the offensive metaconcert in its ultimate configuration as the Adversary taught us. Now!”