it felt like to be a winner, a real winner. He tried to burn the feeling
into his memory so he could relive it over and over for the rest of his
life.
But why have just a memory? Why not a souvenir to help keep the memory
fresh. In fact, why not four souvenirs?
As the robots returned from moving the computer, Craig gave them new
orders.
Outside the Mousehole was a ship, a golden cigar shape lying on its side
and pressing into the earth. One by one the robots carried their burdens
up the gangway and carefully stowed them in one of the holds.
“Okay,” Mikey said as he came back into what had been the computer center.
“Let’s get going. Hey! Where’s Zumwalt and the others?”
“On the ship. I’m gonna build a trophy room and they’re going to be my
first trophies.”
Mikey snorted and shook his head.
“Have it your way. Just make damn sure they stay frozen. Now have you got
everything? Then let’s haul ass.”
As soon as they were aboard the gangway withdrew into their ship and the
airlock doors swung shut. With an ear-piercing whine the golden craft
rocked slightly and then rose straight up.
In the cockpit, Craig and Mikey lounged back in their acceleration couches
and watched the ground fall away. Once they were high above the valley,
Mikey used the mouse to line the crosshairs up on the now-deserted
Mousehole. Then he pressed the left button quickly three times.
“Bombs awaaaay,” he called as three dots detached themselves from the ship
and plummeted to Earth.
Three blinding, shattering explosions came as one, making the ship’s
screens darken for an instant and filling the world below them with
boiling, churning dust. The ship rose and fell slightly in the blast wave
and then sailed serenely out of the billowing mushroom cloud, made a
right-angle turn and headed north.
The cloud of smoke rose high in the air behind them.
From the hillside where he lay, Glandurg cursed as the airship vanished in
the distance. “Balked again!” Then he straightened. “Come. We must follow
these strangers to their lair.”
“Don’t see why,” Snorri grumbled. “Seems like this Sparrow is bloody well
finished.”
“He was alive when he was taken from his abode.”
“Didn’t look none too healthy,” Thorfin said. “All stiff like that.”
“But he was alive. To fulfill the quest we must kill him ourselves or make
certain of his death.”
“Lot of extra work, if you ask me,” Snorri said.
Glandurg turned on him, red-faced. “Who’s leading this quest, you or me?”
“Oh you are,” Snorri said sullenly. The other dwarves stood in a silence
Glandurg chose to interpret as assent.
“Too right I am! And I say we track the wizard down.”
“How far do you reckon they’ll take him?”
“That’s immaterial. We will follow our prey to the ends of the World.”
“We’re a good bit beyond those already,” Thorfin muttered.
Glandurg ignored the remark. “Besides, I doubt these newcomers will have
their lair ensorcelled against us. We should be able to penetrate easily.”
“Does this mean griffins again?” Gimli asked plaintively.
“We would be too easy to see. No, we shall follow on foot. Now quickly.”
He looked down at the cloud of smoke roiling out of the valley. “There is
nothing left here for us.”
Gathering their packs the dwarves set out toward the north, following
Glandurg’s magic indicator toward an unseen foe.
There was no sign of life in the room where Wiz had met Craig and Mikey.
Now the glass wall showed the night sky clear but oddly devoid of stars.
There were just a few sprinkled around, making it hard to tell where the
sky left off and the shadow of the mountains began.
Aside from the weak starlight, the only illumination came from the console
monitor which spilled a squarish puddle of pale light onto the tiled
floor. The only motion was the slow ceaseless rotation of the strange
shape on the computer screen as the system ground inexorably closer to the
final solution.
The door opened and a robot guard clanked in, sensors swiveling left and
right as it probed the darkness, the laser turrets on its shoulders