Outside the window, the light reddened, dimmed,
and was gone, leaving the big room illuminated by only a few witch
lights.
The words Sather Karf had been intoning came to a sudden stop, even
before they could be drowned in the shouts of shock and panic from the
others. His eyes centered questioningly on Hanson and the flicker of a
smile crossed his face. "To the orrery!" he ordered. "Use the manual
controls."
Hanson waited until he estimated the men who left would be at the
controls. The he clutched the sky-blob again. The thoughts in his mind
were clearer this time.
"Rumpelstilsken, let the sun rise from the west and set in the east!"
Some of the Satheri were at the windows to watch what happened this
time. Their shouts were more frightened than before. A minute later, the
others were back, screaming out the news that the manual controls could
not be moved--could not even be touched.
The orrery named Rumpelstilsken was obeying its orders fully, and the
universe was obeying its symbol.
Somehow, old Sather Karf brought order out of the frightened mob that
had been the greatest Satheri in the world. "All right, Dave Hanson," he
said calmly. "Return the sun to its course. We agree to your
conditions."
"You haven't heard them yet!"
"Nevertheless," Sather Karf answered firmly, "we agree. What else can we
do? If you decided to wreck the sky again, even you might not be able to
repair it a second time.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146