Nokias and Ferngal each spoke at some length. Keff was able to translate a few of the compliments the magimen paid to each other.
«Something about high mountains,» he said, running IT over contextual data. «Yes, I think that repeated word must be 'power,' so Ferngal is referring to Nokias as having power as high, I mean, strong as the high mountains and deep as its roots.» He laughed. «It's the same pun we have in Standard, Cari. He used the same word Brannel used for the food 'roots.' The farmers and the magicians do use two different dialects, but they're related. It's the cognitive differences I find fascinating. Completely alien to any language in my databanks.»
«All this intellectual analysis is very amusing,» Carialle said, «but what are they saying? And more to the point, how does it affect us?»
She shifted cameras to pick up Potria and Asedow on separate screens. After the speeches by the two principals, the original combatants were allowed their say, which they had with many interruptions from the other and much pointing towards Carialle.
«Those are definitively possessive gestures,» Keff said uneasily.
«No one puts a claim on my ship,» Carialle said firmly. «Which one of them has a tractor beam on me? I want it off.»
Keff listened to the translator and shook his head. «Neither one did it, I think. It may be a natural phenomenon.»
«Then why isn't it grounding any of those chairs?»
«Cari, we don't know that's what is happening.»
«I have a pretty well-developed sense of survival, and that's exactly what its telling me.»
«Well, then, we'll tell them you own your ship, and they can't have it,» Keff said, reasonably. «Wait, the diplomat's talking.»
The silver-robed magician had his hands raised for attention and spoke to the assemblage at some length, only glancing over his shoulder occasionally. Asedow and Potria stopped shouting at each other, and the other two Big Mountain Men looked thoughtful. Keff tilted his head in amusement.
«Look at that: Chaumel's got them all calmed down. Say, he's coming this way.»
The silver chariot left the others and floated toward Carialle, settling delicately a dozen feet from the end of the ramp. The two camps of magicians hovered expectantly over the middle of the field, with expressions that ranged from nervous curiosity to open avarice. The magician rose and walked off the end of the chairs finial to stand beside it. Hands folded over his belly, he bowed to the ship.
«So they can stand,» Carialle said. «I gather from the shock on the faces of our Noble Primitives over there that that's unusual. I guess these magicians don't go around on foot very often.»
«No, indeed. When you have mystic powers from the astral plane, I suppose auto-ambulatoly locomotion is relegated to the peasants.»
«He's waiting for something. Does he expect us to signal him? Invite him in for tea?»
Keff peered closely at Chaumel's image. «I think we'd better wait and let him make the first move. Ah! He's coming to pay us a visit. A state visit, my lady.»
Chaumel got over his internal debate and, with solemn dignity, made his way to the end of the ramp, every step slow and ponderous. He reached the tip and paused, bowing deeply once again.
«I feel honored,» Carialle said. «If I'd'a known he was coming I'd'a baked a cake.»
Chapter Six
«The initiative is ours now,» Keff said. He kept watch on the small screen of his Intentional Translator as it processed all the hedrons Carialle had recorded while he was unconscious and combined it with the dialogue he had garnered from Brannel and the magicians' discussions. The last hedron popped out of the slot, and Keff slapped it into his portable IT unit on the control panel. «That's it. We have a working vocabulary of Ozran. I can talk with him.»
«Enough to ask intelligent questions?» Carialle asked. «Enough to negotiate diplomatically for our release, and inform them, 'by the way, folks, we're from another planet'?»
«Nope,» Keff said, matter-of-factly. «Enough to ask stupid questions and gather more information. IT will pick up on the answers I get and, I hope, translate them from context.»
«That IT has never been worth the electrons to blow it up,» Carialle said in a flat voice.
«Easy, easy, lady,» Keff said, smiling at her pillar.
«Sorry,» she said. «I'm letting the situation get to me. I don't like being out of control of my own functions.»
«I understand perfectly,» Keff said. «That's why the sooner I go out and face this fellow the better, whether or not I have a perfect working knowledge of his language.»
«If you say something insulting by accident, I don't think you'll survive a second blast of that lightning.»
«If they're at all as similar to humans as they look, their curiosity will prevent them killing me until they learn all about me. By then, we'll be friends.»
«Good sir knight, you assume them to be equal in courtesy to your good self,» Carialle said.
«I must face the enchanter's knight, if only for the sake of chivalry.»
«Sir Keff, I don't like you leaving the Castle Strong when there's a dozen enchanters out there capable of flinging bolts of solid power down your gullet, and there's not a thing I can do to protect you.»
«The quest must continue, Carialle.»
«Well . . .» she said, then snorted. «I'm being too protective, aren't I? It isn't exactly first contact if you stay inside and let them pelt away at us. And we'll never get out of here. We have to establish communications. Xeno will die of mortification if we don't, and there go our bonuses.»
«That's the spirit,» Keff said, buckling on his equipment harness.
Carialle tested her exterior links to IT. «Anything we say will come out in pidgin Ozran. Right?»
Keff paused, looked up at her pillar. «Should you speak at all? Are they ready for the concept of a talking ship?»
«Were we ready for flying chairs?» Carialle countered. «We're at least as strange to them as they are to us.»
«I'd rather not have them know you can talk,» Keff said thoughtfully.
«But they already know I can speak independently. I talked to Brannel while you were unconscious. Unless he thought you were having an out-of-body experience.»
«Supposing Brannel had the nerve to approach our magicians, he wouldn't be able to explain the voice he heard. He was gutsy with me, but you'll notice on the screen that he's staying well out of the way of the chair-riders. They're in charge and he's a mere peon.»
«He is scared of them,» Carialle agreed. «Remember how he explained punishment came from the mountains when one of his people is too curious. It's no problem for them to dispense punishment. They're endlessly creative when it comes to going on the offensive.»
«Contrariwise, I take leave to doubt that any of the magicians would give him a hearing if he did come forward with the information. There's a big crowd of Brannel's folk out there on the perimeter and the wizards haven't so much as glanced their way. No one pays the least attention to the peasants. Your secret is still safe. That's why I want you to keep quiet unless need arises.»
«All right,» Carialle said at last. «I'll keep mumchance. But, if you're in danger . . . I don't know what I'll do.»
«Agreed.» And Keff shot her column an approving grin.
«Let's test the system,» Carialle said. The small screen to the right of the main computer lit up with a line diagram of Keff's body. He rose and stood before it, holding his arms away from his sides to duplicate the posture.
«Testing,» he said. «Mah, may, mee, mo, mu. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. Maxwell-Corey is a fardling, fossicking, meddling moron.» He repeated the phrases in a subvocal whisper. Small green lights in the image's cheeks lit up.