Chornoi saw Rod's abstracted gaze. "Major, what are you doing?"
To Rod, her words seemed to come thinly from a great distance. Carefully, he answered, "I'm… holding the air… in… with us."
Chornoi stared. White showed around the irises of her eyes.
"Gwen?"
"Aye, my lord."
"We're… falling."
"Our ship was heading toward the planet when the pirate shot our cabin off the freighter's side," Yorick explained, "so we're still going toward the planet, too."
Gwen looked from the one to the other. "Is that not where we wish to go?"
"Yeah, but… not so fast…" Rod answered. "Take us down… darling… slowly…"
Gwen looked about them, and finally thought to look up. She gasped. "But… there is no 'down,' my lord. There is only some great bulge above us, a curving wall of blue, with swirls of white!"
"That's… Otranto," Rod grated.
"We're not close enough for it to seem like 'down' yet," Yorick explained, "but we're moving toward it, right enough. It's just that we're moving toward what you call 'up,' just now."
Gwen stared. "But how can one fall upward?"
"Gravity," Yorick explained.
Gwen's eyes opened wide. "That's to say that when I toss a ball into the air and it falls, 'tis the earth that pulls it down."
Yorick nodded. "Yeah, that's most of it. Of course, the ball pulls, too."
Gwen smiled. "Though so small a pull, could scarce be more than a wish."
"I suppose that's one way of looking at it." Yorick sucked in one cheek. "The ball wants to come down."
"And so… do… we," Rod grated.
"The closer we get to each other, the planet and us," Yorick explained, "the stronger the pull."
Gwen stared. Then her mouth opened in a silent "O."
Yorick nodded. "So the closer we get to the planet, milady, the faster we're gonna be going."
"Very… fast… already," Rod reminded him.
"Yeah." Yorick gave a bleak smile. "We're already traveling a thousand miles per second."
"And we will gain speed as we fall?"
Yorick nodded. "Unless you can do something about it."
"Well… mayhap I can." Gwen leaned back, gazing thoughtfully up at the bulge of the planet above them.
"Do it… soon," Rod begged.
"Uh, yeah." Yorick scratched at his ear. "That's the other thing I forgot to mention, Lady Gallowglass. It's called 'friction.' You know how when you rub your hands together, they start feeling hot?"
Gwen nodded, not taking her eyes off the planet above.
"Well, we're going so fast that just our hull pushing through the air can be friction enough to cause a lot of heat," Yorick explained. "Enough to kill us."
"So," Gwen mused, "I must slow us and cool us."
Beside her, Rod nodded. "Molecules… slow 'em down…"
"Thou hast explained that to me oft enow, my lord," Gwen said, with some asperity. "I must own, 'twas thou who didst teach me what my mind did when I did stare at a branch, and made it burst into flame. Nay, I ken the slowing of these 'molecules,' as thou dost term them. And, I think, I can slow our descent enow so that we may land gently." She frowned up at the planet. "Let us begin by putting the world where it doth belong."
Slowly, the huge curve moved off to the side. There was no sensation of movement, but the sun-disc slowly slewed into the center of the hole in the ceiling.
Yorick exhaled sharply. "Yes. Everyday occurrence. Right."
Gwen nodded, satisfied. "Now we fall downward."
Across the aisle, Chornoi stared, aghast. "What are they?"
"A witch and a warlock," Yorick informed her. "But that's just the local term, where they come from."
"This isn't really magic?" Chornoi said hopefully.
Yorick shook his head. "Just psionics. These are two very high-powered espers."
Chornoi sat back, going limp. "I'm glad to hear that's all it is."
"Right." Yorick's smile soured. "It's so much less scary when you can give it a name, isn't it?"
"The pirate is gone now," Gwen informed them.
"Huh?" Yorick looked up and saw a clear sky. "Well. Guess once he saw he'd shot off our cabin, he figured we were dead."
"He had every right to," Chornoi said devoutly.
"Well." Yorick laced his fingers across his midriff and settled back into his acceleration couch. "Might as well relax and enjoy the ride."
"It may be rough," Gwen warned.
"'S okay! That's just fine, Lady Gallowglass!" Yorick held up a palm. "No matter how you slice it, it's going to be a hell of a lot better than I thought it was."
Actually, it was rather boring from that point on. Gwen was very good at slowing them down, but she had a lot of speed to kill, so it did take a little while. Every now and then, things did begin to get a little too warm, and Gwen had to frown in deep concentration until they cooled off. Yorick did some exploring, and found a couple of emergency oxygen generators, but even so, Rod was worried that he might have to try to precipitate the carbon out of the carbon dioxide in the air, and he wasn't exactly burning to have black dust all over the glowing brocade of his new doublet.
At one point, Rod said, "Dear… the planet… is turning… under us. Match… velocities…"
"That means matching the spin of the planet," Yorick explained. "'Velocity' is how fast something's going in any given direction. Just make sure we're moving at the same speed as the world's surface."
"How am I to do that?" Gwen asked.
"Find some landmark," Yorick explained. He glanced at the viewscreen. "Can't do much with that, the power cut off as soon as we broke away from the ship. All we've got is a little emergency power for lights, air, and heat, nothing left over for sight-seeing."
Gwen frowned at the screen, and it burst into life. A landscape reeled across it, blurred by speed, obscured by darkness.
Yorick stared. "How did you do that?" Then he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Never mind—I don't think I want to know. But try to pick out some big landmark, Lady Gallowglass, and slow us down until it stays put in the middle of the screen."
The landscape began to slow. Moonlight outlined ridges that were chains of hills, showing a groove that must have been a valley.
In its center, pricks of light glittered.
"Civilization!" Chomoi cried. "That's gotta be a city! Only people make that kind of light! Quick, Lady Gallowglass, put us down there!"
Gwen concentrated harder on the screen. "I will essay it…"
Chornoi leaned over to Yorick. "How come she can talk while she's doing it, and he can't?"
'"Cause she's better at it than he is." Yorick spread his hands. "What can I tell you? She's been practicing since she was born, and he only found out he had power three years ago."
Chornoi reared her head back, looking askance at him. "How come you know so much about them?"
"Friend of the family," Yorick assured her, "and if you met their kids, you'd want to be friendly, too."
"There." Sweat beaded Gwen's brow. "Master Yorick, is that as thou didst wish it?"
"Beautiful," Rod mumbled.
Yorick looked at the screen. It was as rock-still as though someone had hung a map at the front of the cabin. He blinked. "How the hell did you do that? I didn't feel a thing!"
"I slowed us folk as I slowed the vessel."
Yorick stared at her. "Right." He shook himself. "Sure. Inertia—what's that? just a frame of reference, right?"
"Then refer to that frame." Gwen pointed at the screen. "That square of darkness in the center'—what is it?"
Yorick leaned forward, squinting. Then he shook his head. "Can't tell yet, Lady Gallowglass. When we're closer, maybe."
The tiny square started growing. It swelled until it filled the screen. Moonlight silvered the dark square, revealing textures.
"Treetops!" Chomoi exclaimed.
Yorick stared. "Did you drop us lo
wer, or did you just make the picture get bigger?"
Chornoi pointed. "See that silver thread straggling kitty-corner across it? Has to be a stream."
"I think it's a park, Lady Gallowglass."
"Then there should be few folk about," Gwen said, with growing excitement. "'Twill make a good landing field."
The park swelled in the screen. They could see individual trees, which moved off to the edges of the screen as they grew.
Gwen concentrated all of her attention on the screen.
The stream grew broader and broader, filling the center of the screen. Then it drifted off to the right and out of the screen entirely.
Chornoi and Yorick stared for a few seconds, holding their breath. The wreck jolted violently, slamming everybody back against their acceleration couches. They all sat still for a few minutes.
Then Gwen spoke, her voice soft in the dimness of the emergency lights. "My apologies. I had not meant to strike with such force."
"Oh, that's fine!" Chornoi held up a palm.
"Wonderful." Yorick nodded, with great enthusiasm. "Believe me, Lady Gallowglass, that's a much softer landing than we were expecting."
"Any landing is just great," Chornoi added.
Yorick loosed his webbing and stood up. "Here, let me give you a hand." He helped Gwen disengage her webbing. She caught his arm as she stood. "Gramercy, Master Yorick."
"Oh, it's nothing. It's… Hey! The major! Is he all right?"
Rod was leaning back in his couch, his eyes closed, chest heaving.
"Aye, he is well."
Rod pried an eyelid open. "Yeah." The other eyelid opened, too, and he rolled both eyeballs over toward Yorick. "Just a little tired."
"He did aid me in the moving of the vessel," Gwen explained.
"A little tired." Yorick nodded. "Sure, Major. Uh—before we do anything else—how about a little nap?"
Rod shook his head, loosening his webbing and struggling to his feet. "Haven't got time. We've got to get out of here before dawn."
Yorick reached out to stop him, saying, "No, Major. You're not…" But Rod was already past him, tottering toward the hatch.
Yorick shoved himself to his feet with a shrug. "Well, he's got a point. We landed pretty close to the terminator, as I remember my last glimpse of the viewscreen."
Chomoi hurried after Rod, bleating, "But how do we know the air is even breathable here!"
"Because approximately two million colonists are already breathing it." Yorick swung into step beside her. "And, of course, there's always the hole in our own roof. Nice try, lady, but you're not going to stop him with cobblestones for roadblocks."
Rod threw his weight against the locking lever and shoved. The door swung open, and he went with it. He half fell, half jumped, and felt as though he were dropping through molasses. As his feet touched the ground, Gwen was beside him, holding onto his elbow. "Gently, I prithee, my lord!"
"Why, with you there to cushion my falls? Thanks, though, darling."
Gwen smiled, and shook her head. "Wilt thou not rest, my lord?… Nay, 'tis even as thou sayest, we must be gone—yet favor thine own weakness, I prithee!"
Rod smiled gently at her. "You can always float me, if I collapse, dear. After all, I won't be able to float alone…" He looked around. "Hey! Not bad."
One moon was high in the sky, and another just above the horizon. Between them, they gave just enough light to show manicured lawns and sculpted trees all about them. Flowers rustled in formal beds, their petals closed against the night, and a small pond gleamed like a mirror a few hundred yards away.
"Why… 'tis beautiful," Gwen breathed, looking about.
Yorick sidled up next to Rod and nudged him with an elbow, pointing toward Chornoi. She was silent, her face strained and eyes haunted, drinking in the lush beauty around her.
Rod looked and nodded. "Yeah. Glad we got her off that prison planet."
"Aye, the poor lass!" Gwen said. "To have so much of beauty, after years of such bleakness…"
"We may have it again, if we don't get out of here." Rod scanned the trees and shrubbery, feeling his fatigue shoved into the background as adrenaline spiked him. "No way to tell which inviting piece of topiary is hiding a vision pickup. Maybe even sound."
Yorick nodded. "Somebody's got to have noticed we dropped in on them."
"Well, then, let's see if we can disappear before they send a welcoming committee." Rod turned away. "See if you can't wake up Chornoi, will you?"
Yorick reached out carefully, touching Chornoi's arm. Her head jerked around, eyes wide, and Yorick stepped back fast, just as a precaution. "I really hate to interrupt your reverie, Ms., but we gotta get going, or we're going to have company."
Chornoi whirled, staring about her, wild-eyed.
"Right." Yorick nodded. "No telling where from. Only that they're on their way."
"We can't be sure of that." Chornoi swung back to him. "But we'd be fools to take the chance. Which way did the Major go?"
Yorick pointed, and Chornoi set off after Rod and Gwen at a pace that made Yorick hustle.
They came out onto cobblestones as dawn was lightening the sky, permeating everything with a dim, sourceless light, punctuated by slivers of late moonlight. It was the time when night had died and day hadn't been born, a time between realities, when nothing is definite and everything is possible—a time of fantasy when anything can happen.
And the landscape was right for it. Mist rose about their knees, and its tendrils wisped up to veil a row of half-timbered houses, their second stories overhanging the street. Shop signs creaked in the breeze. Far away, something barked.
"Why, 'tis like home," Gwen said, wide-eyed.
"Yeah." Rod frowned. "Wonder what's wrong?"
"Why're we talking so softly?" Chornoi whispered.
"Who could be loud in a place like this?" Yorick murmured.
"Besides, we might wake the neighbors." Rod shouldered his fatigue and mustered his resolution. "And we don't want them to see us—just yet."
"Wherefore not?"
"Because they're going to find that capsule that brought us here, and we don't want some idle bystander with a high sense of drama telling the authorities that they saw us near the park this morning."
"I get the point," Yorick said. "Some enthusiastic soul might jump to the conclusion that we came in on that ship."
"But wherefore ought we wish him not to?" Gwen looked from man to man, puzzled. "We were aboard it."
"Yeah, dear, but whoever tried to shoot us down thinks we're dead. We wouldn't want to disillusion him, would we?"
"Or her," Chornoi put in.
"But when they find the empty ship, they will know we do live!"
"Yes, but they won't know what we look like!"
"Camouflage, Lady Gallowglass," Yorick explained. "Odds are that our attacker doesn't know what we look like, aside from a general description. He'll know we escaped, but nothing more since nobody on Otranto has seen us. But if he can get a detailed description from an eyewitness…"
"Hold on!" Chornoi held her hands up like a football referee. "Time out! You're both assuming that pirate was out to get us! He could have just been after the ship!"
Rod looked at Yorick. Yorick looked at Rod.
"All right, all right! I get the point!" Chornoi snarled, yanking her hands down. "Come on, let's go!" She set off down the street, walking fast.
Rod followed after her. "Can I help it if I'm a cynic?"
"Dost thou wish to?" Gwen murmured.
Four blocks later, Rod came to a sudden halt. "Would you look at that! You'd think a surveyor had drawn a line and a town board had declared a zone."
"Probably did," Chornoi declared.
"There goes the neighborhood," Yorick sighed.
"And the business district begins." Rod agreed.
"But what manner of business isn't?" Gwen wondered.
"Woman's oldest," Chornoi stated.
"Oh, they're not that exclusive." Ro
d pursed his lips. "I see at least three gambling halls in there, and five saloons."
"And five feelie theaters, three dance parlors, two opium dens, and a pawnshop." Yorick looked up and down the street. "Have I missed anything?"
"Yes. But they haven't."
As far as they could see, the street was one mass of blinking, scrambling, writhing holographic displays in garish colors, advertising every form of pleasure conceived by mortal man and woman.
"Wonder what the buildings look like?" Yorick mused.
"Who can tell?" Rod shrugged. "Even if you could see one, you couldn't be sure it was real."
Chornoi nodded. "That about sums up this whole planet, from what I've heard."
"I thought it was a resort."
"It is. And it's amazing what people will resort to, if they can find the money."
"Otranto," Rod said, remembering the planet's reputation, stronger than ever in his own time, five hundred years later. "Isn't their motto, 'It's been a business doing pleasure with you'?"
"No, but it will be," Yorick assured him. He took a deep breath. "Well, folks—we gotta get through it, right?"
"Right." Rod squared his shoulders and stepped manfully in. "Breathe every five steps, friends."
That wasn't as easy as it sounded. The signs weren't just visual—most of them were aural and olfactory, too. And, occasionally, tactile. The company waded through a melange of sounds and smells, their senses assaulted by every glamour in the state of the art. Erotic images gyrated and beckoned, male and female; delectable aromas wafted out to envelop them; images of riches and luxury flashed before their eyes. Holographic hucksters stepped out to entice them, as real as life and twice as pungent. They gritted their teeth and forced themselves to keep going, wading through every distraction they had ever desired.
A sleek, unbelievably handsome young man stepped out of a doorway, muscles rippling underneath his evening clothes, one arm full of long-stemmed roses, the other dangling a diamond necklace. Chornoi swerved after him like a needle to a magnet.
"Hold it, sister." Yorick caught her arm. "Just illusion, remember? Besides, he costs money."
Chornoi shook herself, coming out of her trance with a gasp. "Thanks. They almost got me with that one."
The Warlock Wandering Page 15
