Flomel stood at the head of the bunk. He touched the sensie helmet. “What’s this?”
Ruiz lifted it away, dropped it, crushed it under his foot. “You don’t want to know, Master Flomel.”
While Dolmaero and Molnekh rocked the corpse until it spilled out onto the deck, Flomel wandered about the cabin, examining the things that lay there. He started to pick up a jeweled dagger, but Ruiz shook his head. Flomel shot him a look seething with hatred, but he drew back. He moved on, came upon the jar in which the giantess had kept her pickled penises. “What are these—” Flomel started to ask. He went pale.
“A good person, would you still say, Master Flomel?” Ruiz smiled at Flomel, and for once the mage had no response. Flomel stood musing, wearing a dourly pessimistic face.
Meanwhile the others had tied the corpse’s wrists together with wire from the sensie unit and were ready to try to move her.
“Good thing we got here before she went stiff; we’d never have gotten her out,” said Dolmaero.
The three of them were just able to move her, pulling in concert. Flomel trailed as before, thinking private thoughts. When they reached the hold, Kroel started up in terror, but Molnekh was able to calm him.
“I’m going to wake Nisa, now,” Ruiz said. “Roll Banessa down the ramp. You help,” he said, pointing at Flomel.
“I? I am no casteless mongrel, to touch dead things!”
Ruiz frowned. “I won’t kill you for being a fool. But I don’t have to feed you, and I can keep you chained in the hold, if you refuse to take direction.”
For a moment Flomel looked as though he might fly at Ruiz. But after a long appraising moment he nodded sullen acceptance.
“Good,” Ruiz said. He pressed the key to Flomel’s collar, removed it, tossed it out. He climbed out of the hold.
Nisa lay quietly on the couch. Ruiz sat beside her for a moment, admiring her. She was still beautiful, despite the bedraggling effect of the night’s events. He pressed the popper to her neck and she gasped. When her eyes fluttered open, Ruiz was shocked by the dark look in them.
“No, no, it’s all right, Nisa,” he said, and gathered her up. After a moment her arms went around him, tight.
“I thought I was dead,” she whispered. “And lucky to be so. I thought you were dead.”
“We’re both alive. With a little luck we’ll stay that way.” He touched her throat where the collar had clasped her. He kissed the line of her jaw.
Some time later, she pulled away slightly, looked around the dark control blister. She saw the tipped-over Marmo and trembled. “Dead?”
Ruiz followed her gaze. “No, not dead, I think, but powerless. And the giantess is dead. The others are throwing out her body.”
“The others?”
“All safe.”
“You should kill the conjurors, Ruiz. Or leave them here. They can’t be trusted; they think they’re better than anyone else.”
“You mean… they’re like princesses?”
She twitched between amusement and annoyance. “No, I’m serious, Ruiz. It would be safer. And you can kill without difficulty, true?”
“You think so?”
She seemed to see something unpleasant in his face; she drew away and wrapped her arms around herself. “Have you killed a great many, Ruiz?”
He stood and went to the port. “Some,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I said—” He turned and looked at her. “Well. The worlds are wide, Nisa, and full of life. Out of all those trillions… some don’t deserve life. Besides, didn’t you just tell me to kill the conjurors? I assure you: Despite what they did to you, they’re scarcely less innocent than you are. Why should they die?”
“All right. You’re right; let them live. I’ll watch them.”
He laughed. “Yes, a good solution.”
Nisa felt the first stirrings of hope, as she watched Ruiz explore the boat’s control system. His strong hands seemed to know what they touched. They caressed the switches and lights and screens, slowly searching out the meaning of all those bewildering things. He was almost a god, he could destroy with a god’s nonchalance; perhaps, she thought, he could make miracles as easily.
When the sun rose over the pink veldt, Ruiz asked her to pass out food packets to the former prisoners. Nisa went to the locker he indicated, fumbled with the unfamiliar latch that held it shut, finally got it open. “Be reassuring,” Ruiz said. “Don’t frighten Flomel; if he tries to hurt you, Dolmaero will stop him. Come back when you’re finished.”
She carried the packets down to the hold. Dolmaero and Molnekh took their share eagerly. Kroel looked at her dumbly, eyes vacant, and did not raise his hand. She set the packet by him on the bench.
When she approached Flomel, the senior mage stared at her, his face shifting between hate and fear. “Master Flomel,” she said, holding out the food. “It’s not poison. Ruiz Aw says I mustn’t try to kill you again, so I won’t.”
He snatched the packet, lips clamped in a narrow line.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
When she passed the lock, she could see the giantess lying sprawled at the foot of the ramp. Already the corpse was attracting carrion bugs, great golden beetles with shimmering wings. When one flew inside and bit Molnekh on one of his lean cheekbones, Ruiz retracted the ramp and shut the lock.
“Come up to the control blister,” Ruiz said. He turned and spoke kindly to Kroel, still huddled on the bench. “Master Kroel, will you wait for us? Above are dangerous machines, and you’ll be safer here.”
In the control blister, Ruiz leaned against the main board. “We have a problem.”
Only Dolmaero laughed, though Molnekh smiled his wide toothy smile.
“Yes, well…” Ruiz grinned at them. “But what I mean is this: The boat is programmed for Corean’s destination. I can’t change it. So we must either ride the boat in that direction or strike off on foot. It’s my opinion that the veldt is too dangerous. I don’t know much about the wildlife in this part of Sook, but Corean’s people were afraid of something.”
Ruiz did not mention the stirrings of the mission-imperative in his mind, a voice that demanded he proceed with his investigation. The mission-imperative was weakening, with time and the slippage of the death net, but it was still strong enough to make him very uncomfortable, and thus less effective.
Molnekh spoke up. “I’m afraid too. Hungry things live in the grass; I’m sure of it. But whatever Corean had planned for us has no appeal for me now.”
“Nor me,” said Ruiz. “But there’s some good news. We can ride the boat toward our destination, and if we see a good spot to stop — a village where we can get transport to a neutral launch ring, for example — the program will allow me to land.”
“This then is what we must do.” Flomel spoke in an assured tone.
Ruiz looked at the mage, surprised. “I’m pleased that you agree with my assessment. Master Flomel.”
The mage’s face was a mask of affability, and Ruiz thought Flomel had never looked more treacherous. “‘When the Hellwind blows, even the strongest tree must dance’; so it is said.” Flomel smiled, a somehow ghastly expression.
Ruiz glanced at Nisa, saw a look of loathing pass over her face. She was watching Flomel intently; when her gaze flickered to Ruiz for a moment, he winked.
Dolmaero perched on the edge of the couch. He seemed troubled; his fingers twisted together, and he stared at the floor.
“What of you, Guildmaster?” Ruiz asked. “Give us your opinion.”
Dolmaero looked up, clearly uncomfortable. “I think your plan is the only possible one. But… Ruiz Aw, I must ask you: What are your intentions toward us? Has our ownership passed to you? And can we hope to return to Pharaoh?”