Part 15 (1/2)
”Well then, resign yourself to the good fortune that fate has inflicted upon you, and cease this endless complaint. You whimper like some girl who has played her virginity card, but failed to take the trick. It commences to pall.”
”Then I will leave you.”
”Stay where you are, we are not finished. You were suggesting, if I am not mistaken, the possibility of enemy action or reprisal. What did you mean by that? This s.h.i.+p and her crew are Lanthian. Do you believe it likely that any among the sailors or officers may-”
A howl of terror arising from multiple throats below truncated the grandlandsman's query. The cries repeated themselves, intensifying in volume and emotion. Moments later a trio of soot-grimed, panic-stricken sailors came bursting through the open hatch up onto the deck, where they clung cowering to the rail.
”What is it?” Torvid demanded in Grewzian of the nearest crewman. There was no reply, and he seized the other's collar in one formidable fist. ”Explain.”
”He is Lanthian, he doesn't understand you,” Karsler remarked calmly. ”And probably could not answer in any case.”
Another couple of crewmen boiled up screaming through the hatch.
”Are these people mad, or idiots, merely?” Disgusted, Torvid released his hold. The liberated mariner, white beneath his tan, backed away.
”Neither, if I am not deceived. You know the nature of my training, Grandlandsman, and for the past hour or so I have sensed some echo of arcane energy infusing our atmosphere.”
”And deemed it unworthy of mention?”
”I was not certain. Within the last couple of minutes the sensation has greatly intensified, and now there can be no doubt that-”
Someone below fired a gun. Three shots rang out in quick succession, followed by a full-throated scream.
”Whatever this Lanthian nonsense may be, I will settle it.” Drawing a revolver from the shoulder holster perfectly concealed beneath his coat, Torvid started for the hatch.
”Do not attempt it,” Karsler advised. ”The force now at work upon this s.h.i.+p is proof against mundane weaponry. Stay away from it.”
For a moment Torvid considered, then returned the gun to its holster. ”I will be ruled by your superior experience in these matters, for the moment. Understand that my patience is limited, however.”
”I suspect you will shortly discover that patience is not the issue.”
”This deliberate obscurity of yours is-” Torvid broke off as a tentacle of midnight vapor came undulating up through the hatch into the brilliant daylight, where it paused, swaying a little, as if tasting the unfamiliar suns.h.i.+ne. ”What is that thing?”
A couple of sailors and a junior officer on deck spied the black vapor, shouted an alarm, and ran for the stern. The dark tendril silently withdrew.
”Ah, it flees. Here is nothing to concern us.” Torvid Stornzof dismissed the visitation with a shrug.
”You judge too quickly. Wait,” Karsler instructed, and his tone of authority drew a narrow glance from his uncle.
”Wait while these Lanthian fools allow the s.h.i.+p to slow to a full stop? Wait while the fires in the boilers die because the idiot stokers have abandoned their posts? I think not.” Again Torvid made for the hatch.
”Halt,” Karsler spoke as if to a soldier under his command, and the tone froze the other in his tracks. ”You have not the faintest idea what you are dealing with.”
”Ah? I deal, it would seem, with a Stornzof who forgets that he addresses the head of his House.” Torvid turned to face his nephew. ”Allow me to refresh your memory. Inasmuch as excitement has clouded your judgment, however, I will indulge you so far as to hear your explanation. What, then, are we dealing with?”
”A fairly potent arcane manifestation,” Karsler returned without emotion. ”The product, I believe, of the traditional Lanthian Cognition. The Select of Lanthi Ume support and aid the local resistance. In this case it is safe to a.s.sume that the sorcerous support has resulted in the creation of a Cognitive shadow hidden away somewhere aboard the Inspiration Inspiration and designed to activate itself at sea. All things considered, I cannot say I am altogether surprised.” and designed to activate itself at sea. All things considered, I cannot say I am altogether surprised.”
”Are we to fear shadows?” Torvid's brus.h.i.+ng gesture repelled imaginary gnats. ”This timid rag of mist has poked itself briefly up into the light, lost its courage, and fled. It would seem the effluvium of irresolute Lanthian minds fears us.”
”Do not depend upon it,” Karsler advised. ”And do not be too quick to dismiss Cognition. There is power in it still, and such sorcerous visitations as this are often dangerously malign.”
”It would seem these little Lanthian tricksters have quite cowed you. Fortunately, I-”
”Look. Up there.” Karsler pointed.
Torvid's eyes followed the other's finger to the Inspiration's Inspiration's smokestack, whose vaporous grey plumage was swiftly changing character. Even as the Stornzof kinsmen watched, dense ropes of black insubstantiality began thrusting up from the depths of the vessel. One after another the dark tentacles shot from the smokestack, climbed for a moment or two, then curved to descend on the deck. Within seconds dozens of them tented overhead, blocking sunlight to create an eerie artificial dusk. One came down inches from the Stornzofs, its weightless touch bubbling the painted deck. smokestack, whose vaporous grey plumage was swiftly changing character. Even as the Stornzof kinsmen watched, dense ropes of black insubstantiality began thrusting up from the depths of the vessel. One after another the dark tentacles shot from the smokestack, climbed for a moment or two, then curved to descend on the deck. Within seconds dozens of them tented overhead, blocking sunlight to create an eerie artificial dusk. One came down inches from the Stornzofs, its weightless touch bubbling the painted deck.
Torvid regarded the nearest writhing strand with interest. One hand reached out fearlessly.
”Do not touch that,” Karsler counseled. ”It is likely to burn you.”
”Ah? Remarkable. Let us see.” Torvid pa.s.sed the tip of his index finger unhurriedly through the shadow, then drew back and watched with apparent pleasure as the skin reddened and a rash of small blisters appeared. ”You are correct, Nephew. I should hardly have thought those Lanthian sheep had it in them. Here is unexpected novelty.”
”There is more to come. Look.”
Visible through the interstices of the shadowy Cognitive web veiling the Inspiration Inspiration, the s.h.i.+p's smokestack continued to belch unnatural blackness, but again the character of the emission was changing as serpentine tentacles gave way to a larger, denser spread of midnight, swelling as it mounted skyward, darkening as it expanded.
Finally the shadow emerged in its globular entirety to hover above the smokestack, and then the features adorning the central ma.s.s revealed themselves. The wavering projection of something like a hooked beak pierced the sky, and above the beak, slightly paler than the surrounding blackness, bulged the gigantic vacuity of two dead eyes.
”I confess I am surprised,” Torvid acknowledged. ”Explain to me the nature of this imaginative display, Nephew.”
”Cognitive in nature, moderately potent, potentially lethal.” Karsler's eyes never left the empty visage looming overhead. ”Make no mistake-the human bathed in that caustic shadow, or drawing the vaporous substance down into his lungs, is unlikely to survive.”
”Interesting. And that appearance, somewhat reminiscent of an overgrown cephalopod-that is purely pictorial, I presume? The shadow possesses nothing resembling life?”
”It is not alive, nor does it possess true awareness,” Karsler reported. ”Yet it perceives, and its response to its perceptions is governed by the intention of its creator.”
”And that intention?”
”To block the boat's way east to Aennorve. Perhaps nothing more. The shadow is Lanthian in origin, and the Inspiration Inspiration is manned by Lanthians. Confronting neither resistance nor defiance, this visitant will probably cause no harm, although it possesses the power to kill.” is manned by Lanthians. Confronting neither resistance nor defiance, this visitant will probably cause no harm, although it possesses the power to kill.”
”I see. Well, you are the supposed expert. What do you advise?”
”That we wait.”
”Wait. I see. Now there's true Grewzian valor for you. Shall we then abandon s.h.i.+p, take to the lifeboats, and set off for the nearest island, there to loll on the beach until rescued by the next eastbound vessel? Is that your battle strategy, Nephew?”
”It is not, nor would you imagine otherwise, were you even minimally knowledgeable in this area,” Karsler returned evenly. He saw the other's lips thin and, without awaiting reply, continued, ”Deprived of its creator's presence and sustaining will, the shadow's term of existence is limited. Presently-within a few hours, or less, according to the skill of the originating savant-Cognitive force will flag and the shadow will cease to be.”
”A few hours, to sit idle and helpless?” Torvid demanded.
”We can afford them. Barring magic and miracle, my fellow racers can hardly expect to embark from Dalyon until the day after tomorrow, at the very earliest. This Lanthian gesture amounts to nothing.”
”There you mistake the matter. Pa.s.sive acquiescence is not Grewzian. Nor is toleration of conspiracy and open defiance. The sooner our subjects learn that lesson, the better for all concerned.”
”What remedy do you favor, Grandlandsman?”
”Cognitive sabotage or no, this s.h.i.+p continues on toward Aennorve. That is a simple statement of fact.”
”Fact does not always lend itself to simple statements.”