The Practice Effect Part 32

Linnora had thought herself long past surprise at anything the wizard would ever do. But then Dennis stopped carving, admired his handiwork for a second, then reached under the glider to give the stick to the robot!

"Here," he told it. "Take it firmly in the middle with your center manipulator arm. Yeah. Now spin it clockwise. No, I want a rotary motion along the axis of that arm. That's right!

"Don't strain yourself at first, but spin it as fast as you can. Your purpose," he emphasized, "is to cause a breeze to blow back toward us, and generate forward lift."

He turned back to the others and smiled. When they only stared back at him, he tried to explain. But all they really were able to get down was the name of the new tool. . .a propeller, he called it.

The stick turned faster and faster. Soon it was only a blur, and they began to feel a stiff wind.

Dennis asked Arth to stay on the ground, holding onto the rear of the craft to keep it from moving. Linnora climbed aboard and took her accustomed position.

Dennis picked up the Krenegee, who whimpered slightly in exhaustion. "Come on, Pix. You've still got a job to do." He climbed in front of Linnora and nodded for her to begin the practice trance.

"Propeller." Linnora mouthed the new word to memorize it. She picked up her klasmodion and strummed.

On Tatir, sometimes even people benefited from practice. The four of them slipped into another felthesh trance as if they had been born to it. It was nowhere near as intense as the powerful storm of change they had wrought so desperately the day before. But soon there was a familiar shimmering to the air near the front of the glider, and they knew alterations were taking place.

Now it was a gamble against time.

6 The last of the balloons on the south spur floated away just after sunrise as the defenders of its anchor rope fell before the dawn onslaught. These aeronauts, at least, had learned from prior disasters. Immediately they dumped overboard all of their sandbags, weapons, clothes, anything that could be cast loose. The balloon shot up into the sky, past the waiting, vulturelike gliders. The ligher-than- air craft caught a fast air current to the east and relative safety.

Gath watched it happen and hoped that balloon was the one with his friend Stivyung aboard.

Well, at least they had managed to bold off the inevitable for an entire day. During the night the smoldering glow of the balloon maws had been a reminder to the troops below that Kremer wasn't having everything his own way.

"The gliders will now be free to attack our forces on that ridge," a L'Toff bowman in the gondola with him said. 'They'll sweep the southern spur, enabling invader troops to follow and enfilade our forces in the valley."

Gath had to agree. "We need reinforcements!"

"Alas, our reserves have all been pulled back to stay the thrust from the northern front."

Gath cursed. If only he had been able to come up with a way to drive balloons against the wind. Then they might have been of some use in the northern fight as well. Then they would not have been sitting ducks for those d.a.m.ned gliders!

"Here they come again!" one man shouted.

Gath looked up. Another stoop of the d.a.m.ned dragon-winged devils was on the way. Where had they all come from? Kremer must have brought in every one he owned to finish them off.

He picked up his bow and made ready.

7 Arth struggled to maintain his grip on the tail of the cart-glider. His heels skidded in the powdery sand. The blowing air was filled with floating grit.

"I can't hold it back!"

"Just hold on a little longer!" Dennis urged over the backwash. The wind from the whirling stick was now a roar, blowing their hair about wildly. The cart kept bucking and heaving as the rushing air made the wings strain and hum.

Linnora leaned into the brakes, her long, blond hair whipping around her.

Arth shouted again, "I can feel it slippin'!"

Dennis yelled back, "I've got the robot running its treads in reverse.

In just a minute you can hop aboard, Linnora can release the brakes, and I'll tell the robot to take off!"

"You'll tell the what to what?" Arth was straining as hard as he could.

"I said," Dennis shouted, "I said I'll tell the robot to let go! Then you can-"

He never finished his sentence. There was a sudden shift in the whine below them as the treads stopped whirling in reverse and immediately slammed into forward gear.

"No! I didn't mean now!" Dennis was whipped back against Linnora as the craft bolted forward like a racehorse released at the gate.

Caught in a spray of sand, Arth let go just in time. He sprawled face first to the ground, inches from the cliff edge. "Hey!" He coughed and spat and sat up, complaining. "Hey! Wait for me!"

But the "cart" had already leaped out of earshot. It was out over the boulder canyon, doing cartwheels in the air.

Arth watched, enthralled, as the flying machine zoomed high, stalled, fell into a steep careen, then recovered into a series of powered loop-the-loops.

The maneuvers certainly were amazing, Arth thought. The wizard must be showing off for his sweetheart. And who could blame him?

Arth's heart soared with the wild, capering dance of the airplane.

Still, for one brief moment he thought he heard a loud, foul- tempered curse as the machine flew past the plateau.

He watched, amazed, until a noise reminded Arth about Kremer's soldiers. A hurried look around a small bluff told him the party of rangers had finally arrived. Arth decided then that he had better go about finding himself a hiding place.

Linnora was laughing again. And once again, it was hardly a help.

Dennis's pulse pounded and he gasped for breath. The Princess clung so tightly to him that it was hard to breathe!

He tugged at one of the strings he had attached to the robot so he could control the crude airplane by hand and not have to shout all of his commands. He pulled gently, so as not to overcompensate, having learned that lesson the hard way. Several times he had almost stalled the little craft, or sent it into uncontrollable spins.

Finally, the d.a.m.ned thing steadied down. The robot spun the propeller at an even rate, and Dennis got the contraption flying smoothly away from the vicinity of cliffs, rock walls, and downdrafts.

He set the plane into a slow climb, then sagged back against Linnora's soft, strong embrace, hoping he wasn't about to be sick.

Linnora laughed richly, and hugged him out of sheer exhilaration.

"Oh, my Wizard," she sighed. "That was marvelous! What a great lord you must be in your homeland. And what a land of wonders it must be!"

Dennis felt his breath returning. In spite of that period of panic and almost disaster, things had turned out pretty much as he had planned this time. It looked like he was getting the hang of the Practice Effect!

He couldn't help feeling happy, sitting back as she rubbed the muscles of his neck and played happy nuzzle games with his ear. He controlled the plane with gentle nudges, letting it gain practice with use.

The pixolet peered over the side, bright-eyed with amazement as they cruised leisurely across the sky.

Although he was content to rest there in her arms for the moment, Dennis realized he would have to set Linnora straight about one thing quite soon. She had altogether too much confidence in him. No doubt about it. She frequently had the habit of a.s.suming he knew what he was up to when all he was doing was improvising to survive!

The forests and plains of Coylia stretched out below them, a sea of ambers, greens, and blues. Soft white clouds arrayed in drifting columns as far as the eye could see.

Dennis ran his hand along the laminar smooth side of the craft they flew. . .handiwork he had created, helped by his comrades, in only two days' time! He marveled at the wonderful adaptations that had converted a rickety little hand-carved cart into a sleek flying machine.

True, the thing would not normally have been possible, even here.

It had taken a combination of his own inventiveness and the rare practice resonance-derived from the melding of man, L'Toff, and Krenegee. But still. . .

Pix hopped up onto his lap. Apparently it had decided to forgive him. The creature settled in for a long purr. Dennis stroked its soft fur. He looked up at Linnora, remembering her last remarks, and smiled.

"No, love. My world is no more wonderful than this one, where nature's so kind. It's usually been a hard life there. And if it's become anything but brutal and futile in the past few generations, it's thanks to the sweat and hard work of millions. Given the chance, any man or woman of Earth would choose to live here instead."

He looked out over the plains and realized that he had made a surprising decision. He would remain here on Tatir.

Oh, he might return to Earth temporarily. He owed the land of his birth any help he could give it from what he had learned here. But Coylia would be his home. Here was where Linnora was, for one thing. And his friends. . .

"Arth!" He sat up suddenly. The plane rocked.

"Oh, my, yes!" Linnora cried. "We must go back!"

Dennis nodded as he gently turned the plane around.

And then there was the war, too. That madness had to be dealt with before he thought any more about settling down in this land and living happily forever after From his hiding place under a fallen tree, Arth heard the cries of the soldiers. For a long time they stood out on the plateau while he listened to their amazed exclamations. They were clearly more than a little surprised by what they had seen. He heard superst.i.tious mutterings and the Old Tongue word "dragon" repeated over and over.

The minutes pa.s.sed. Then there came more excited shouting. Arth heard a terrifying roar, followed by sounds of panicked flight. The sequence was repeated several times. Each time the roar seemed louder and the frightened yells sounded farther away.

Finally, he crawled out of his hole and cautiously emerged to look around.

He saw Kremer's rangers running for their ropes, trying desperately to escape the plateau as if the devil himself were after them.

Even he flinched at first as the large, roaring form swooped down toward him from the clouds. Then he saw two small shapes wave at him from the c.o.c.kpit of the plane.

Arth could understand the soldiers' flight. His own heartbeat sped as he watched the thing, and he knew what it was!

Arth understood that it would be dangerous to try another landing on the sloping, sandy embankment. The chance wasn't worth taking while there was still a lost war to be won. He was only grateful Dennis and Linnora had taken the time to drive the rangers away before moving on to more important matters.

Arth waved farewell to his friends, and watched as the flying machine accelerated away to the south. He shaded his eyes and followed it as it headed toward the line of battle, far down the line of mountains.

Finally, when it had become a mere dot on the horizon, he went over to the pile of supplies Linnora had emptied onto the gravel bank.

There he also found several backpacks, dropped in panic by the departing soldiers.

He sighed as he picked through the detritus. There was enough here to live off of for quite some time.

I'll give them a couple days to win th' war and come to get me, he thought. If they don't come back by then, maybe I'll try to build one of them flyin things myself!

He hummed softly as he fixed himself a meal and imagined soaring in the sky, no slave to the winds.

8 The battle was going badly. About noon, Gath ordered every spare implement cast overboard in preparation for a desperate bid at escape.

It did little good. The next flight of gliders to attack sent a hail of darts tearing through the canopy. Fewer arrows than ever rose to meet the black shapes. The great gas bag began to sag as heated air escaped.

Another of the bowmen was killed in the onslaught. The body had to be cast overboard without ceremony. There was no time to do otherwise.

Below, the men guarding the tethers were hard pressed. All knew that it was only a matter of time until the forces holding the south rim fell back under pressure from the air, leaving their flank unguarded, Kremer had obviously seen the opportunity his salient up the Ruddik offered. He had drawn reinforcements away from the northern front, where Demsen's Royal Scouts had been putting up stiff resistance. Gath had seen several contingents of mercenaries arrive, along with companies of Kremer's gray-clad northmen, only minutes before the most recent glider sortie. The final a.s.sault on the salient would not be long delayed. And once they broke through here, the heartland of the L'Toff would lie open.

Their balloon was leaking steadily now. Gath couldn't even estimate how long it would stay aloft, practice notwithstanding.

Then, as if all that weren't enough, one of his men grabbed his shoulder and pointed, asking, "What's that?"

Gath squinted. At first he thought it was another d.a.m.ned glider. In the bright afternoon light something new seemed to have entered the sky battle. . .a large winged thing, with a span greater than the biggest of Kremer's aerodynes.

This thing growled, and it flew as no glider he had ever seen. There was something powerful about the way it prowled across the sky.

Gath's men muttered fearfully. If Kremer had added another element to the fray...

But no! As they watched, the growling thing rose high, then dove into the updraft at the canyon mouth to attack the slowly rising column of gliders there!

Gath stared in amazement. The intruder swooped about the lumbering wings, disturbing the smooth air they depended upon. The turbulence of its pa.s.sage sent them out of control. One after another, the black shapes shook, tumbled, and fell!

Most of the glidermen ultimately regained control of their bucking craft, but not in time to reach another updraft. The skilled pilots desperately sought flat areas and had to settle for crash landings on the rough slopes.

Angry airmen stumped or hobbled out of their wrecked flying machines to stare up at the buzzing thing that had brought them down like a hand swatting down flies.

A few of Kremer's gliders managed to stay in the updraft. They escaped on the first pa.s.s of the growling monster, struggled for alt.i.tude, and then dove on the intruder.

But the hawk-winged shape easily maneuvered out of reach of the deadly darts. Then it turned nimbly and pursued its pursuers, hounding them out over the arid plain. Each time the inevitable result was another glider wrecked or stranded on the tumbled prairie.

In a matter of minutes, the sky was clear! The L'Toff stared, unable to believe what had happened. Then a cheer rose from the defenders'

lines. The attackers-even the gray-clad professionals-drew back in superst.i.tion and awe as the droning thing came around to fly high over the canyon.

As if that weren't enough, at that moment there came a peal of horns that echoed resoundingly down the rocky vale. Emerging from the heights overlooking the canyon, a detachment of armored men appeared. As a breeze stiffened, they unfurled the royal pennant of Coylia. A great dragon, its broad, sweeping wings outlined in bright green piping, flapped in the wind and grinned down at the combatants.

Gath knew that a bare dozen Royal Scouts had been hiding on the slopes above, to make a big show at some appropriate time. The tacticians had been counting on the Scouts' reputation to slow the enemy at some crucial moment.

The effect was magnified far beyond what Demsen and Prince Linsee had hoped for. The a.s.sociation between the unknown flying thing and the dragons of legend was unmistakable. In the armies below there were, doubtless, sudden foxhole conversions to the Old Belief.

That was when the great growling monster above chose to swoop upon the army of plainsmen, No arrows rose to meet it, for although it dropped nothing lethal, its ba.s.s moaning struck terror in the invaders' hearts. They dropped weapons and fled their positions" without looking back.

Gath breathed easily for the first time in days. He had very little doubt who the pilot of that noisy, dragon-like glider had to be.

9 "Your Majesty! All is lost!" The gray-cloaked rider swerved in front of his liege lord.

Kremer reined up his horse. "What? What are you talking about? I was told we had them in our grasp!"

Then he looked up and saw the rout in progress. Like a flash flood, the green, red, and gray uniforms cascaded unstoppably down the canyon, only a little way behind the-mounted messenger.

The warlord and his aides were caught in the flood of panicked troops. It quickly became apparent that shouting and bearing at the men with their swords would not rally them. It was all Kremer and his officers could do to spur their nervous animals over to high ground at the side of the canyon, out of the tide of fleeing soldiery.

Clearly something had gone desperately wrong. Kremer looked up, searching for his chief weapon, but not one of his gliders was in the sky!