by Lyndon Hardy
"The laws that are strange to you," Jemidon said, "I know them well. They are the Law of Dichotomy,'dominance or submission,' and the Law of Ubiquity, 'flame permeates all.'"
"So well that after thirty-seven sleeps, you are still here." Ponzar laughed softly. "If you can do this wizardry, why not return? Return by commanding the strange being which brought you here."
"I-I was never able to conjure up the simplest imp." Jemidon hesitated for a moment and then rushed on. "Besides, a true djinn will not come in simple flame. He needs the burning of special powders, and you have none of it here on this rock."
Ponzar did not immediately reply. He shut his eyes again and slumped forward in thought. "Most interesting," he said after a moment. "I will add that to what I will tell."
"You speak with some apprehension about this rendezvous," Jemidon said. "Why bother if it gives you any concern?"
"Utothaz calculated the course long ago." Ponzar looked back at Jemidon. "And once we spun past the sphere with the grazing beasts, the path was set. Only when we near the lithofloat will there be another chance to alter our track." Ponzar twirled his shovel and tapped the ground. "Our caverns are overflowing with harvest. The floaters are too big to move as swiftly through the sky as we. They gather instead what they can capture as it floats by. If there is trust, there will be good to both sides from the trade."
"And if there is not?"
"Valdroz is a greedy captain. He is not at peace that his lithon is so big and slow. Were it not for the way of the great right hand, I fear he would plunder all that I have. Plunder air and give nothing in exchange. I also think of the strength of the lodestones. Valdroz's lithon has huge boulders of positive cairngorm. Our own are not small. As long as its law remains inert, it acts no differently from baser rock. But if we shift to a vertex where it has power, we could be hurled to only the great right hand knows where.
"But my heaviest thoughts are about the portion of the sky in which we meet. Behind the floater is a great sea of base stone lithons. Some are larger than the greatest floater, great enough for hot rock to flow and clouds of poisonous vapor to hurl in the air."
"Why should that be your greatest concern?" Jemidon asked. "If lava flows on the surface, you need not swoop close. And the fumes should dissipate on the currents of the air. It sounds not so very different from what I would call a volcano."
"There are few enough winds in the 'hedron except for those made by our flight," Ponzar said. "Only in time is the foul mixed with the pure. The poisons move out slowly from where they were born. And the vapors of which I speak fill a very large volume. Even though a lithosoar can fly for many sleeps on a drifting course if its supply of marrow is high, no Skyskirr can hold shut his lips for as long as it takes to pass through such a cloud."
Ponzar waved his small shovel in front of Jemidon's face. "The great right hand guides. It is the duty for all the Skyskirr to follow. Whatever happens is by his design. And I have a duty, as shown by my token of office. The pilot uses his key for the unlocking. The manipulants chip precious lodestones from baser rocks with their picks. The others, the scribes, the smiths, the skinners, all have their duties and tokens as well. And the captain of a lithosoar must scoop the treasures from the skies and provide for his people so that marrow is for feasting and not survival in the voids."
For a moment Ponzar sank into silence, oblivious to the fact that Jemidon was even there. Then he rose abruptly, apparently satisfied with the conversation. In the doorway, he shifted his shovel to his left hand. He extended his right index finger pointing at Jemidon, thumb upward and middle finger bent to the side. Jemidon returned the signal as he had been taught.
When the captain had gone, Jemidon turned his attention back to the coin changer and sighed. There was nothing else for him to do but wait. "If I start with three silvers before the galleons," he muttered, "then the first brandel will fall into the third column. That means that a dranbot must be next to deposit into the fifth."
Jemidon felt the slight tremble as their small boulder began to slow in its passage, rather than continuing to hurl past the larger sphere. Compared with the agonizing slowness during over a dozen sleeping periods with which their target had come into view, first as an indistinct speck and then gradually growing into a discernible disk, the motion now seemed rapid indeed. He knew that soon they would reach a perilith, then loop back in a long ellipse. Ponzar had said that the trade delegation would come when they were almost skimming the surface.
Already the other lithon blotted out a good portion of the sky, fissures and crags becoming more distinct with each passing moment. Details were more regular, indicating the effort of intelligent minds. Larger squares of greens and blues checkered a relatively flat plane. Up-thrusts of rock were sculptured with spiraling steps. Hundreds of lights blinked in small clusters that covered the orb like a great pox.
Jemidon and Delia stood with the Skyskirr, awaiting the arrival, crammed among sacks of bones, twisted branches of trees, wagonloads of sparkling rock, and other objects that Ponzar's group had scavenged in their trek across the sky.
Jemidon twisted restlessly as the large sphere gradually drew closer. He had been able to deduce some additional facts about his surroundings, but even more time in his own universe had been lost as the lithons converged. With no periodic repetitions in the heavens, he could not be sure how much. But at least Melizar's djinn had not reappeared. Now, with contact with other Skyskirr imminent, perhaps he could find something more than bare rock to bridge the gap to the demon realm and home.
"I still do not understand about the forces between the special stones," Delia said at his side. "How do their attractions affect the direction in which we will go?"
Jemidon smiled at the sweetness in her voice. For most of their journey, she had remained to herself, gladly accepting a separate cavern when it was offered. Now, like a weathervane, her charm was again pointing his way.
"It is the construction of this universe," Jemidon answered. He grabbed a shovel from her hand and with its blade scratched a crude figure in the surface of the rock. "Ponzar is reluctant to say much; but from his small slips and what we have seen, I have figured out much of their laws."
"You know the third metalaw?" Delia's face brightened. "Does it provide the means to see us back?"
"Just laws, not metalaws." Jemidon shook his head. "It all began to make sense when I finally recognized the pattern of the distant lines in the sky." Jemidon looked upward and nodded his head. He had carefully walked all over the surface of the Jithosoar and seen them all. There could be no other answer. "We are in a box, Delia-a giant icosahedron, it properly would be called, a regular solid with twenty triangular sides. All that the Skyskirr know to exist lies within the walls of this crystal. From the triangular surfaces they get light and heat. The closure of the 'hedron keeps the air from whirling away to whatever is beyond."
"Like the edges of the world in our own sagas?" Delia asked. "If you sailed too close, you ran the risk of falling over the side."
"Here the risk is not one of falling off," Jemidon said, "but of never being able to return. I suspect that the planes are covered with the lodestones that the scavengers find so dear."
"It is these rocks that pull them through the air?"
"Exactly so," Jemidon said. "Positive cairngorm is attracted by one of the plates and repulsed by another on the othtr side of the 'hedron. For negative cairngorm, the effect is the reverse. Even when it is near no other sphere, a lithosoar can be accelerated by the forces between the walls.
"There are twenty faces in all and ten opposite pairs. For each pair, there is a corresponding rock: black sphalerite, violet spinel, rusty cairngorm, orphiment, realgar, anatase, chrysocoHa, epidote, beryl, and serpentine. I have seen the rocks on the tablestone and as they have spilled from the manipulants' pouches-ten types of lodestones in both positive and negative varieties. And for each type, a rock of one variety is attracted to those which are opposite and repulsed by
those which are the same. The force falls off with some power of the distance."
Jemidon paused and contorted his hand in the sign of greeting. "Actually, it is a little more complicated than that. Two additional plates interact with each type of lodestone as well. But only when it is moving and at an angle to the direction of motion. It is the meaning of the right hand. If the thumb points in the direction of the primary tug and the forefinger in the direction the lodestone is moving, then the additional force will be in the direction of the curling fingers. The extended fingers of the hand are a simple mnemonic from a distant past to aid in the calculation of trajectories. If there were only one lode-stone and no others to perturb its path, its motion would be a helix that would eventually reach one of the walls."
"But our flights are anything but so simple," Delia said. "Utothaz maneuvered us almost at will."
"There are other bodies in the 'hedron as well, each with its own complement of rocks that attract and repel."
"But what of the control?" Delia asked. "He maneuvered our lithosoar over the other as if we were a docile bird."
"It is the-the metamagic. Yes, that is the word for it," Jemidon said. "The laws of attraction for the stones can be turned on and off at will. To approach a target, you invigorate the law that attracts the two bodies together. To break before collision, you switch instead to one that repels. Far away from any lithon, you rely on the forces between the walls. Indeed, that is the role of the metamagician in this domain. He is the pilot who calculates the courses and steers the scavengers through the sky, guiding them from one stone to the next to collect whatever of value they can. The laws themselves are simple. Attraction or repulsion, falling with distance, and a second force at right angles to the velocity. Once a law is in effect, it permeates the entire universe; but with a few observations, anyone can calculate the trajectories that result. There is little of the arts as we know them here, Delia. No complex rituals or incantations that only a master can control. It is metamagic instead that is supreme."
Jemidon broke off and pointed skyward. A swarm of small figures rose from the surface of the larger lithon and accelerated swiftly to catch their lithon as it hurled past. When the visitors grew closer, Jemidon saw that they looked much like Ponzar and the rest, dressed only in loincloths, despite the stinging cold. Each carried a huge pack on his back, and a copper sword dangled from his side. Arms were extended directly forward. In one hand, each held a fair-sized stone of blue that seemed to pull its owner along; in the other was an inert crystal of black.
Partway on their intercept trajectory, Jemidon experienced the feeling of disconnection. It was stronger than any since Utothaz's sweep of the beasts, but the disorientation was totally under control. It was merely an irritation that he hardly noticed any more,
"They have deactivated the attraction of the blue stone and changed to the repulsion of the black," he said. "When they arrive, their relative speed will be almost zero. Then the law will be shifted to another and the lodestones will have no special powers until they are reactivated for their return."
In a few minutes, Ponzar climbed with a slow, careful step to where the first visitor had landed. He signaled with a finger-bent right hand and ordered the security of a well-anchored rope. The new arrival accepted the hospitality with a quick patter of soft tones.
Immediately, Ponzar pointed in Jemidon's direction, and several members of both parties approached to view him better. He scowled back at the rude stares and put up his hand when one reached forward to rip away the front of Delia's gown.
"Careful, faraway one," Ponzar warned so that Jemidon could understand. "Your value is less if you are no better than the beast."
"Far away, a man is valued by the keenness of his mind," Jemidon answered.
"As it is here," Ponzar said. "And in your case, there is perhaps a little interest. It would help if you would show them how you fail to conjure up a demon."
Jemidon's scowl deepened. "'There would be nothing to see, only empty flame," he said. "Let me show another art. I have been trained in them all."
"Very well," Ponzar said. "Make it one that catches the eye. The Skyskirr of Valdroz trade with sleepy faces."
Jemidon did not relax his frown. Aiding in Ponzar's petty exchanges did little to help his own plight. Still, what the captain had said was true enough. As long as he and Delia had some value, they had remained away from the sucking lips. And on a bigger sphere they might have a chance to find some of the powders for which they were looking. But what craft to demonstrate? None save wizardry would work here at all. He needed something that appeared impressive, despite what the outcome would be. Quickly he looked around the various items stacked for trade. He dug his hands into one of the nearest sacks and extracted a fistful of soda, originally from the edge of a great salt lake. He rummaged among the small collection of bottles obtained from some previous trade and sniffed for one that had a vinegary smell.
"Alchemy." Jemidon turned back to face Ponzar as he prepared. "A craft governed by the Doctrine of Signatures, or, simply stated, 'the attributes without mirror the powers within.' And these powers are invoked by writing a formula, a series of arcane symbols in a precise order. I will try to make a Foam of Wellbeing by mixing what I have found. If things proceed successfully, there will only be a small bubbling in the bottle before the reaction is complete. The natural propensity to produce large volumes of gas will be suppressed. On the other hand, if the formula fails, the vapor will evolve with explosive results.
"Now, no alchemical formula is guaranteed to work every time, and here I doubt that any will succeed at all. But explain to them what I am doing. The effect should still be good enough."
Ponzar began to translate while Jemidon opened the stopper in the flask and tossed in a handful of soda. He plunged back the cork and, with a quick motion, hurled the bottle up into the sky. While it sailed away, easily escaping the feeble grip that held it to the lithosoar, he rapidly scribbled the formula for producing the foam on a nearby piece of hide, somewhat surprised at how sharply the symbols came back into his mind. He finished the last and held his breath. If the formula worked, nothing would seem to happen. The ingredients would modify internally. But if the natural reaction were allowed to proceed unchecked-
A sharp pop and the glitter of tiny shards of glass cut short the thought. The gas from the reaction had exploded the bottle into smithereens.
"If properly done, the bottle does not burst," Jemidon explained with a shrug. "There, that is a failure as good as any other."
Ponzar twirled his shovel of office in response, lookinp at Jemidon for a long while. "I cannot be sure," he said. "You still may be one of Melizar's. But if Valdroz's traders accept, you will be their problem and not mine. Wait with the rest of the harvest. I will see what agreement the great right hand will provide."
Jemidon clenced his fist. Ponzar's attitude was no surprise but it grated nonetheless. Certainly he and Delia should be regarded differently from a bundle of sticks. He would speak out despite Ponzar's instructions.
But before Jemidon could respond, the tablestone pit suddenly erupted in agitation. Valdroz's traders drew their swords and bolted for the scavengings. Ponzar slapped his shovel against the rock in alarm. His own followers snapped to attention and scurried after. More poured out of the cavern entrance, waving their copper blades and yelling in high-pitched shrieks. Jemidon felt an unlocking begin but then snap back firmly shut. He saw Utothaz totter to standing and grasp hold of his pyramid, holding it tight with both hands.
Jemidon grabbed Delia about the waist and pulled her away from the Skyskirr as they raced among the sacks and crates. Before Ponzar's fighters could catch them, they poured crystals of black sphalerite from their packs into the containers they had brought and then sealed them shut. One of the traders cried in shrill pain as a blade cut deeply into his shoulder from behind. Ponzar's Skyskirr ran in among the scattered goods, hacking to the right and left, trading blows with whoever turned to
resist.
Jemidon heard Utothaz scream. He saw the pyramid tumble from the pilot's hands, wisps of smoke coming from the smaller vertices as they rapidly whirled. The feeling of unlocking grew and then burst through whatever was holding it back. Valdroz's traders lunged for the sacks and crates they had augmented as they suddenly soared into the air.
Ponzar looked at the stricken metamagician and then at the Skyskirr shooting away. "Hang on, hang on," he warned as he struggled toward a pit. "The lithofloat. The cairngorm. Its activation is the next vertex in line."
Instinctively, Jemidon pushed Delia down into one of the many depressions on the lithosoar's surface. He knelt beside her, and the rock almost tore from his grip. Desperately, he reached again to grab hold as it seemed to slip away. He jammed one hand into the indentation and flung a leg across Delia while she struggled to catch on herself. He felt his body move sluggishly as the boulder gathered speed.
His legs slipped from where they were braced and he hung only by his arms. The wind whistled around his head, and he saw small bits of wood, sacks, and ropes seem to come close and whip out of sight, falling behind. Jemidon gritted his teeth and pulled with all his strength, trembling from the effort, somehow drawing himself closer to the receding rock. Using all the muscles in his back, he gradually drew his legs parallel to the curving surface. With one great lunge, he touched the granite and his foot caught in the proper indentation. Straining from the effort, he slowly pulled Delia in front of him to the safety of the pit. Firmly braced with all four limbs, he dared to chance a look at where he had been.
He gasped in surprise at what he saw. The other globe was rapidly shrinking. Like the shot of a catapult, it was hurling away. Their lithon was soaring into the unknown far faster than he had ever traveled before.
