"First Colonel-Commander Herphan Gomja has a security clearance that allows him to say it's a naval base, but you don't!" Dyffed retorted, unfazed. "As Colonel-Commander Gomja says, the void holds many foes, even if that's not logically correct because a void should be empty and hold nothing. Regardless, we ask that you please not refer to this base, the lake, or the airspace above it, out to a fifty-mile altitude, as anything other than a yacht club. If our enemies knew that we were working on a coherent-beam, synergized thaumamplifer here, they'd-" The gnome froze, his face filled with horror at his words. "No! I meant, if they only knew we were working on a secret birthday party for the admirals here, they'd be all over us. It's the nature of space monsters, always crashing birthday parties." Dyffed drew a shuddering sigh, his face pale. "I've been working on this weapons project for so long, I almost forgot the code words."

Teldin thought about this latest revelation. Whatever this secret weapon was, he didn't want to be around when it was set off. "Forgive my asking," he said, "but were you working on this, uh, birthday party at the Rock of Bral?"

"What? Oh, yes, I was. Their library was of considerable help, too, though I don't think they understood a scrap of what I was doing there. Elves!" The gnome rolled his eyes. "Wonderful people, of course, but absolutely no concept of real science. The admiral and I got along quite famously, though, thanks to his interest in the Spelljammer-that's the one-and-only Spelljammer, of course, not just any spelljammer. We used to talk about that for days. He must have asked me a thousand questions about it. That's the sort of thing that happens when you get a proper schooling, none of this 'Everything I Needed to Know I Learned on Dungeon Level One' nonsense. That was why he had me go with you, so I could perform a scientific analysis of the Spelljammer when you found it, then answer all of his own questions about it later."

The gnome paused for breath, and Teldin broke in. His worst suspicions were dangerously close to being confirmed. "What kind of questions was Admiral Cirathorn asking about the Spelljammer?"

Dyffed hesitated, lost in thought. "Oh, the usual things, of course, that a scholar of history might ask. How big was it, what kind of weapons would it carry, how could you control it, where would you find it, what sorts of military things might you do with it if you had it, would your cloak have any effect on it, that sort of thing. Natural curiosity."

Natural curiosity, hell, Teldin thought. I should have known. Why in the name of the Abyss do I keep trusting everyone I meet and hoping they won't stab me in the back with the first chance they get? I never thought the elves would do it, but I've not been seeing this in perspective. The Spelljammer is more valuable than gold; it's real, raw power, and no one can turn away from it, not the neogi, not the mind flayers, not the pirates, evidently not the orcs who attacked us, and apparently not even the elves. Possibly not even the gnomes.

"At any rate," Dyffed went on cheerfully, "my research assistants and I shall accompany you when you leave to find the Spelljammer. We're going to find out what makes the Spelljammer squeal, as they say, but first we'll be off to see dear old One Six Nine. I've communicated with him only by parcel for the last sixty years. He was quite a help to me on the, uh, um, birthday party. We'll be bringing it with us, by the way. It should be a marvelous trip."

*****

Night fell across the face of Ironpiece. Watches changed at the naval base, and spelljammers began landing in the evening, the last of those returning from the battle that had been joined after the Probe's escape. Teldin heard from various nurses and technicians that the humanoid and elven ships had fought each other mercilessly, but both sides had been driven away from Ironpiece by the gnomes' dreadnoughts, deathglories, spellfighters, and other craft. Confusion had reigned at first as to whether the elves were allies or enemies, but the matter was resolved on a practical level when an elven man-o-war opened fire on a deathglory. From that point on, it was every side for itself. As usual, the gnomes took the greatest casualties from their own experimental weapons. Once the humanoids had retreated and the elves had simply vanished (minus one of their man-o-wars), the gnomes had mopped up and gone home. Teldin went to sleep with a certain amount of satisfaction at the news.

The infirmary's inhabitants slept. In the dark corridors, a handful of gnome attendants snored on their stools or wrote medical notes by candlelight. One of them was in the middle of listing a series of proposed experiments to determine the best design for a new lighting system for the infirmary-one that would not burn the place to the ground, as the previous natural-gas system had done sixty years earlier. She finished with another page, admiring the simplicity of her design-to have giant, refillable wicks installed in the walls-and set it on the ever-growing pile beside her.

"Somnoluncia, parafar, nombilbulum" came a whispered voice from the darkness down the hall to her left.

Startled, the gnome looked up-and immediately started to yawn. She leaned back, a quill pen and a stack of unblemished paper sliding from her lap as she fell off her stool. A soft thump sounded as she hit the floor, accompanied by the sound of an upended ink bottle rolling away across the floor to empty its contents in a widening puddle.

Out of the darkness came a darker thing, floating soundlessly up to the snoring gnome. The figure observed the slow rise and fall of her chest, then moved on to the door on her right. There the figure took a last look around-then it simply moved through the entry as if the door did not exist.

Beyond the door the darkness was broken by faint light from a window. After an appropriate wait to assure that the rhythmic breathing from the bed in the room was genuine, the figure silently drifted closer. A lone being slept there, curled up like a baby. The sheets were bunched up at the foot of the bed. Peace was written across the sleeper's face.

The dark figure raised a finger of white jointed bone and pointed it at the sleeper's head.

"Obedia ooamei, ptejarki noh," it said quietly. The rhythmic breathing from the victim immediately became heavier and deeper. The sleeper's eyes opened and stared at the wall, seeing nothing. The dark thing felt relief. The controlling spell had worked on the first attempt.

"Much from me this spell has cost, but much need I have of you, live meat," the dark thing whispered. "Much for me in the weeks to arrive you will do. The cloakmaster to approach I dare not. Dangerous he is, and because of him my not-servants exist not. But you in my service will be, hidden slave with hidden master, you by all trusted, yes. My words now attend you will, much to learn, and my dreams to fulfil. Power everlasting mine will be, the cosmos to hold."

The dark figure spread its arms wide, covering the window and the light, and began the next enchantment.

*****

The following morning, before Teldin forced his own release from the infirmary, Gomja visited him and announced he, too, would be going with Teldin to find the Spelljammer.

"I don't understand," Teldin said. He stopped rubbing his knees to ease the aching in them. "Why would you leave your work here? You've got everything you've ever wanted."

Gomja sighed, sitting on a heavy crate and looking at a spot on the floor. "I know, sir, but the gnomes decided that they need a marine commander aboard the ship they're taking to the Spelljammer, and they felt that I was the best choice. The commanders that I replaced wanted their old jobs back, too. It's all for the best." He looked uncomfortable and dropped his voice as he looked up. "Besides, sir, not a lot has been going on here, and I've been hoping for a little more action. I'm also worried that you might need a strong arm at your side, given your current goals."