Key Out of Time

by Andre Norton

  13

  The Sea Gate of the Foanna

  Ross raised a shell cup to his lips but hardly sipped the fiery brew itcontained. This was a gesture of ceremony, but he wanted a steady headand a quick tongue for any coming argument. Torgul, Afrukta, Ongal--thethree commanders of the Rover cruisers; Jazia, who represented themysterious Power of Phutka; Vistur and some other subordinate officers;Karara; himself, with Loketh hovering behind: a council of war. Butsummoned against whom?

  The Terran had come too far afield from his own purpose--to reach Ashein the Foanna keep. And to further his own plans was a task he doubtedhis ability to perform. His attack on the Baldies had made him tooimportant to the Rovers for them to allow him willingly to leave them ona quest of his own.

  "These star men"--Ross set down the cup, tried to choose the mosttelling words in his limited Hawaikan vocabulary--"possess weapons andpowers you can not dream of, that you have no defense against. Back atKyn Add we were lucky. The salkars attacked their sub and halted thebroadcast powering their flamers. Otherwise we could not have takenthem, even though we were many against their few. Now you talk ofhunting them in their own territory--on land and in the mountains wherethey have their base. That would be folly akin to swimming barehanded tofront a salkar."

  "So--then we must sit and wait for them to eat us up?" flared Ongal. "Isay it is better to die fighting with one's blade wet!"

  "Do you not also wish to take at least one of the enemy with you whenyou fight to that finish?" Ross countered. "These could kill you beforeyou came in blade range."

  "You had no trouble with that weapon of yours," Afrukta spoke up.

  "I have told you--this weapon was stolen from them. I have only one andI do not know how long it will continue to serve me, or whether theyhave a defense against it. Those we took were naked to any force, fortheir broadcast had failed them. But to smash blindly against their mainbase would be the act of madmen."

  "The salkars opened a way for us--" That was Torgul.

  "But we can not move a pack of those inland to the mountains," Visturpointed out reasonably.

  Ross studied the Captain. That Torgul was groping for a plan and that ithad to be a shrewd one, the Terran guessed. His respect for the Rovercommander had been growing steadily since their first meeting. Thecruiser-raiders had always been captained by the most daring men of theRover clans. But Ross was also certain that a successful cruisercommander must possess a level-headed leaven of intelligence and be astrategist of parts.

  The Hawaikan force needed a key which would open the Baldy base as thesalkars had opened the lagoon. And all they had to aid them was ahandful of facts gained from their prisoners.

  Oddly enough the picklock to the captives' minds had been produced bythe dolphins. Just as Tino-rau and Taua had formed a bridge ofcommunication between the Terran and Loketh, so did they read andtranslate the thoughts of the galactic invaders. For the Baldies, amongtheir own kind, were telepathic, vocalizing only to give orders toinferiors.

  Their capture by these primitive "inferiors" had delivered the firstshock, and the mind-probes of the dolphins had sent the "supermen" closeto the edge of sanity. To accept an animal form as an equal had beenshattering.

  But the star men's thoughts and memories had been winnowed at last andthe result spread before this impromptu council. Rovers and Terrans werebriefed on the invaders' master plan for taking over a world. Why theydesired to do so even the dolphins had not been able to discover;perhaps they themselves had not been told by their superiors.

  It was a plan almost contemptuous in its simplicity, as if the galacticforce had no reason to fear effective opposition. Except in onedirection--one single direction.

  Ross's fingers tightened on the shell cup. Had Torgul reached thatconclusion yet, the belief that the Foanna could be their key? If so,they might be able to achieve their separate purposes in one action.

  "It would seem that they are wary of the Foanna," he suggested, alert toany telltale response from Torgul. But it was Jazia who answered theTerran's half question.

  "The Foanna have a powerful magic; they can order wind and wave, man andcreature--if so be their will. Well might these killers fear theFoanna!"

  "Yet now they move against them," Ross pointed out, still eyeing Torgul.

  The Captain's reply was a small, quiet smile.

  "Not directly, as you have heard. It is all a part of their plan to setone of us against the other, letting us fight many small wars and so useup our men while they take no risks. They wait the day when we shall beexhausted and then they will reveal themselves to claim all they wish.So today they stir up trouble between the Wreckers and the Foanna,knowing that the Foanna are few. Also they strive in turn to anger us byraids, allowing us to believe that either the Wreckers or Foanna haveattacked. Thus--" he held up his left thumb, made a pincers of rightthumb and forefinger to close upon it, "they hope to catch the Foanna,between Wreckers and Rovers. Because the Foanna are those they reckonthe most dangerous they move against them now, using us and weakeningour forces into the bargain. A plan which is clever, but the plan of menwho do not like to fight with their own blades."

  "They are worse than the coast scum, these cowards!" Ongal spat.

  Torgul smiled again. "That is what they believe we will say, kinsman,and so underrate them. By our customs, yes, they are cowards. But whatcare they for our judgments? Did we think of the salkars when we usedthem to force the lagoon? No, they were only beasts to be our tools.So now it is the same with us, except that we know what they intend.And we shall not be such obedient tools. If the Foanna are our answer,then--" He paused, gazing into his cup as if he could read some shadowyfuture there.

  "If the Foanna are the answer, then what?" Ross pushed.

  "Instead of fighting the Foanna, we must warm, cherish, try to allyourselves with them. And do all that while we still have time!"

  "Just how do we do these things?" demanded Ongal. "The Foanna you wouldwarn, cherish, claim as allies, are already our enemies. Were we not onthe way to force their sea gate only days ago? There is no chance ofseeking peace now. And have the finned ones not learned from thewomen-killers that already there is an army of Wreckers camped about thecitadel to which these sons of the Shadow plan to lend certain weapons?Do we throw away three cruisers--all we have left--in a hopeless fight?Such is the council of one struck by loss of wits."

  "There is a way--my way," Ross seized the opening. "In the Foannacitadel is my sword-lord, to whose service I am vowed. We were on ourway to attempt his freeing when your ship picked us out of the waves. Heis learned beyond me in the dealing with strange peoples, and if theFoanna are as clever as you say, they will already have discovered thathe is not just a slave they claimed from Lord Zahur."

  There it was in the open, his own somewhat tattered hope that Ashe hadbeen able to impress his captors with his knowledge and potential.Trained to act as contact man with other races, there was a chance thatGordon had saved himself from whatever fate had been planned for theprisoners the Foanna had claimed. If that happened, Ashe could be theiropening wedge in the Foanna stronghold.

  "This also I know: That which guards the gate--which turns your mindswhirling and sent you back from your raid--does not affect me. I may beable to win inside and find my clansman, and in that doing treat withthe Foanna."

  The Baldy prisoners had not underestimated the attack on the Foannacitadel. As the Rover cruisers beat in under the cover of night thefires and torches of both besieged and besiegers made a wild glow acrossthe sky. Only on the sea side of the fortress there was no sign ofinvolvement. Whatever guarded the gate must still be in force.

  Ross stood with his feet well apart to balance his body against theswing of the deck. His suggestion had been argued over, protested, butat last carried with the support of Torgul and Jazia, and now he was tomake his try. The sum of the Rovers' and Loketh's knowledge of the seagate had been added for his benefit, but he knew that this venture mustdepend upon himself alone. Karara, t
he dolphins, the Hawaikans, were alltoo sensitive to the barrier.

  Torgul moved in the faint light. "We are close; our power is ebbing. Ifwe advance, we shall be drifting soon."

  "It is time then." Ross crossed to the rope ladder, but another wasthere before him. Karara perched on the rail. He regarded her angrily.

  "You can't go."

  "I know. But we are still safe here. Just because you are free of onedefense of the gate, Ross, do not believe that makes it easy."

  He was stung by her assumption that he could be so self-assured.

  "I know my business."

  Ross pushed past her, swinging down the rope ladder, pausing only abovewater level to snap on flippers, make sure of the set of his weightedbelt, and slide his gill-mask over his face. There was a splash besidehim as the net containing spare belt, flippers, and mask hit the waterand he caught at it. These could provide Ashe's escape from thefortress.

  The lights on the shore made a wide arc of radiance across the sea. AsRoss headed toward the wave-washed coast he began to hear shouting andother sounds which made him believe that the besiegers were in the midstof an all-out assault. Yet those distant fires and rocketlike blastsinto the sky had a wavery blur. And Ross, making his way with theeffortless water cleaving of the diver, surfaced now and then to spotfilm curling up from the surface of the sea between the two standingrock pillars which marked the sea gate.

  He was startled by a thunderous crack, rending the air above the smallbay. Ross pulled to one of the pillars, steadied himself with one handagainst it. Those twists of film rising from the surging surface werethickening. More tendrils grew out from parent stems to creep alongabove the waves, raising up sprouts and branches in turn. A wall of mistwas building between gate and shore.

  Again a thunderclap overhead. Involuntarily the Terran ducked. Then heturned his face up to the sky, striving to see any evidence of storm.What hung there sped the growth of the fog on the water. Yet where thefog was gray-white, it was a darkness spouting from the highest point ofthe citadel. Ross could not explain how he was able to see one shade ofdarkness against equal dusk, but he did--or did he only sense it? Heshook his head, willing himself to look away from the finger. Only itwas a finger no longer; now it was a fist aimed at the stars it was fastblotting out. A fist rising to the heavens before it curled back,descended to press the fortress and its surroundings into rock andearth.

  Fog curled about Ross, spilled outward through the sea gates. He loosedhis grip on the pillar and dived, swimming on through the gap with thefortress of the Foanna before him.

  There was a jetty somewhere ahead; that much he knew from Torgul'sdescription. Those who served the Foanna sometimes took sea roads andthey had slim, fast cutters for such coastwise travel. Ross surfacedcautiously, to discover there was no visibility to wave level. Here themist was thick, a smothering cover so bewildering he was confused as todirection. He ducked below again and flippered on.

  Was his confusion born of the fog, or was it also in his head? Did he,after all, have this much reaction to the gate defense? Ross ducked thatsuspicion as he had ducked the moist blanket on the surface. He had comefrom the gate, which meant that the jetty must lie--there!

  A few moments later Ross had proof that his sense of direction had notaltogether failed him, when his shoulder grazed against a solidobstruction in the water and his exploring touch told him that he hadfound one of the jetty piles. He surfaced again and this time he heardnot a thunder roll but the singsong chanting of the Foanna.

  It was loud, almost directly above his head, but since the cotton mistheld he was not afraid of being sighted. The chanter must be on thejetty. And to Ross's right was a dark bulk which he thought was one ofthe cutters. Was a sortie by the besieged being planned?

  Then, out of the night, came a dazzling beam, well above the level ofRoss's head where he clung to the piling. It centered on the cutter,slicing into the substance of the vessel with the ease of steel piercingclay. The chanting stopped on mid-note, broken by cries of surprise andalarm. Ross, pressing against the pile, received a jolt from his beltsonic.

  There must be a Baldy sub in the basin inside the gate. Perhaps theflame beam now destroying the cutter was to be turned on the walls ofthe keep in turn.

  Foanna chant again, low and clear. Splashes from the water as those onthe jetty cast into the sea objects Ross could not define. The Terran'sbody jerked, his mask smothered a cry of pain. About his legs andmiddle, immersed in the waves, there was cold so intense that it seared.Fear goaded him to pull up on one of the under beams of the pier. Hereached that refuge and rubbed his icy legs with what vigor he couldsummon.

  Moments later he crept along toward the shore. The energy ray had foundanother target. Ross paused to watch a second cutter sliced. If thecounter stroke of the Foanna would rout the invaders, it had not yetbegun to work.

  The net holding the extra gear brought along in hopes of Ashe's escapeweighed the Terran down, but he would not abandon it as he felt his wayfrom one foot- and hand-hold to the next. The waves below gave off anicy exudation which made him shiver uncontrollably. And he knew that aslong as that effect lasted he dared not venture into the sea again.

  Light ... along with the cold, there was a phosphorescence on thewater--white patches floating, dipping, riding the waves. Some of themgathered under the pier, clustering about the pilings. And the fogthinned with their coming, as if those irregular blotches absorbed andfed upon the mist. The Terran could see now he had reached the land endof the jetty. He wedged his flippers into his belt, pulled on over hisfeet the covers of salkar-hide Torgul had provided.

  Save for his belt, his trunks, and the gill-pack, Ross's body was bareand the cold caught at him. But, slinging the carry net over hisshoulder, he dropped to the damp sand and stood listening.

  The clamor of the attack which had carried all the way offshore to theRover cruisers had died away. And there were no more claps of thunder.Instead, there was now a thick wash of rain.

  No more fire rays as he faced seaward. And the fog was lifting, so Rosscould distinguish the settling cutters, their bows still moored to thejetty. There was no movement there. Had those on the pier fled?

  Dot ... dash ... dot ...

  Ross did not drop the net. But he crouched back in the half protectionof the piling. For a moment which stretched beyond Terran time measurehe froze so, waiting.

  Dot ... dash ... dot ...

  Not the prickle induced by the enemy installations, it was a real codedcall picked up by his sonic, and one he knew.

  Don't rush, he told himself sharply--play it safe. By rights only twopeople in this time and place would know that call. And one would haveno reason to use it. But--a trap? This could be a trap. Awe of theFoanna powers had touched him a little in spite of his off-worldskepticism. He could be lured now by someone using Ashe's call.

  Ross stripped for action after a fashion, bundling the net and itscontents into a hollow he scooped behind a pile well above water level.The alien hand weapon he had left with Karara, not trusting it to thesea. But he had his diver's knife and his two hands which, by training,could be, and had been, deadly weapons.

  With the sonic against the bare skin of his middle where it wouldregister strongest, knife in hand, Ross moved into the open. Thefloating patches did not supply much light, but he was certain the callhad come from the jetty.

  There was movement there--a flash or two. And the sonic? Ross had to besure, very sure. The broadcast was certainly stronger when he faced inthat direction. Dared he come into the open? Perhaps in the dark hecould cut Ashe away from his captors so they could swim for it together.

  Ross clicked a code reply. Dot ... dot ... dot ...

  The answer was quick, imperative: "Where?"

  Surely no one but Ashe could have sent that! Ross did not hesitate.

  "Be ready--escape."

  "No!" Even more imperative. "Friends here...."

  Had he guessed rightly? Had Ashe established friendly relations w
ith theFoanna? But Ross kept to the caution which had been his defense andarmor so long. There was one question he thought only Ashe could answer,something out of the past they had shared when they had made their firstjourney into time disguised as Beaker traders of the Bronze Age.Deliberately he tapped that question.

  "What did we kill in Britain?"

  Tensely he waited. But when the reply came it did not pulse from thesonic under his fingers; instead, a well-remembered voice called out ofthe night.

  "A white wolf." And the words were Terran English.

  "Ashe!" Ross leaped forward, climbed toward the figure he could onlydimly see.