The gnome looked disconcerted. “I’m not even
halfway through it.”
“Maybe I asked the wrong question. What does your
name mean to humans?”
He nodded. “It’s very descriptive, even for my people,
and surprisingly apropos. I’m known among humans as
He Who Will Not Stand Upon Accepted Science, But
Will Research Back Into Dangerous and Even
Unworkable Ideas, Nor Will He Stand on Conventional
Testing, But Will Fall Back on Hazardous and Injurious
Techniques, and Will Stand up for Belief in Technology,
Which, Back Before the Great Cataclysm – ”
“What,” Mara said desperately, “do humans call you
for short?”
The gnome said simply, “Standback.”
Mara leaped back.
“No, no,” said the gnome. “That’s my name.
Standback.”
“Are you an inventor? Where’s your workshop? Do
you do all your work down here? You’re not going to tell
anyone you’ve seen me, are you?”
Poor Standback had no idea how to answer four
questions thoroughly without taking a month off. “Would
it upset you terribly if I answered in brief?” he said
diffidently.
Mara, realizing with a shudder how narrowly she had
avoided dying of old age during a participial phrase, put a
hand on the gnome’s arm. “Please, take as little of your
research time as possible.”
Standback was flattered and grateful. He
concentrated. “Yes, I’m an inventor. These tunnels are my
work area; I know they don’t look like much, but they’re
roomy. I do all my work here. And no, I won’t tell anyone
I’ve seen you,” he finished with slight melancholy,
“because there’s no one else to tell. I’m the only one –
down here. It’s nice to talk to somebody. Where are you
from?”
Mara assumed an heroic stance, arms folded across
her thin chest. “I am from Arnisson, a village under siege,
desperate to keep itself free from the cruel talons of the
draconian army. We are under the command of a lone
Knight of Solamnia, a former townsman named Kalend.
He’s a friend of my older brother’s,” she sighed and her
voice softened. “Kalend’s nice, and he thinks I’M
wonderful, but that’s really not that surprising, because I’m
ravishingly beautiful.” She sighed again, this time in
dejection. “Though I do wish he’d stop calling me ‘little
girl’ all the time. Anyway, when I met him on the rampart
walls a few nights ago, I asked him if we were likely to
survive, and he said not really, but if the draconians
attacked too early or while they thought we were
unprepared, we still might win. And he said that if he had
even one working gnome weapon, we’d stand a chance.
And I think he meant it,” she added sincerely.
She went on and on – some about the draconians,
some about how dire the situation was, but mostly about
Kalend, who grew taller and better looking as her story
progressed. Standback nodded frequently.
“And so,” she said, resuming the heroic stance, “I left
Arnisson that very night. I left unseen,” she added,
pausing and staring at Standback earnestly.
“Unseen,” he echoed dutifully.
“Exactly.” She stared into space. “Stealthily creeping out
under the cover of darkness, I, alone, crawling through the
enemy camp . . .
She went on again for quite some time, not bothering
much about the truth, which was actually pretty boring
and she was sure no one wanted to hear anyway.
Standback listened patiently, feeling only a little put
out that she had been going on like that after making him
be brief. When she finished, he said, “But why did you
come?”
“What?” Mara brought herself back to being Queen of
Thieves. “I came here,” she began boldly, then faltered as
she realized how it would sound, “to – borrow, or – get, or
somehow – take – okay, STEAL some gnome weaponry for
the war with the draconians.” She was blushing.
Standback decided that he liked her, but he wasn’t
sure how sensible she was.
“Gnome technology is famous throughout Krynn,”
Mara added wheedlingly, with some truth. FAMOUS and
INFAMOUS were fairly close. “There are legends of past
great weapons. The Knights of Solamnia still speak of
your poison gas – ”
“Yes, well,” Standback said uncomfortably, “it was