The Sinners of Erspia

Another thought struck him. The surface gravity on Gnomeland was as weak as on Fairyland, but there appeared to be no need for it, since the gnomes did not fly. Why ... ?

Of course. It was to enable the gnomes to reach Fairyland so as to engage in warfare with its inhabitants.

Everything had been planned from the start, just like placing a bridge between two formicariums so as to watch the two nests of ants fight one another.

Including the improbability that the gnomes could actually succeed in conquering Fairyland using their own resources. Laedo's cargo ship could tip the balance in their favour.

“I shall have to think about it,” he said.

“What is there to think about?” Mezzen challenged, his voice loud and suspicious. “Our interests converge. You wish to have your ship repaired. We wish to take possession of the land in the sky. We can give each other what we want."

His voice fell. “Or are you really here as a spy for the fairies?” he rumbled. “To report on our preparations?"

“I do not wish to see anything of your preparations,” Laedo replied mildly. “There is no reason why I should act for the fairies. They cannot manufacture a steel part for me."

He stepped towards the portal. “Please give me a few hours to think about this. I will come out and speak to you when I have decided."

Silently Mezzen and Ruzzok followed him along the corridor. Laedo opened the port.

“Hold him,” Mezzen snapped.

Two more gnomes were standing on the platform at the top of the steps. They pointed weapons at Laedo's chest.

These were not the long spears or elegant longbows favoured by the fairies. They were compact, powerful-looking crossbows, lever-drawn, trigger-operated. In the groove of each cross-piece rested a wicked steel bolt. Paralysis seized Laedo as he saw the gnomes’ forefingers curled tensely around those triggers. He felt unable either to reach for his gun or to press the stud which would close the port. Instead he raised his hands and backed away, almost bumping into the two coming up behind him.

“We will keep our bargain once the war is over,” Ruzzok promised him. “We will help repair your ship."

They took him back to the main cabin. “Now,” Mezzen said, “show us how to work this vehicle."

“You won't be able to do it,” Laedo claimed. “It takes years of training."

In fact he imagined the gnomes would be able to master the controls quite quickly once they had been demonstrated, at least as far as the close manoeuvring engine went. That was all they would need to fly between the two landscapes.

“That may or may not be true,” Mezzen replied thoughtfully. “If it is, you can fly the machine for us."

Laedo realized he was being threatened. Did he face torture? He was beginning to curse his rashness in coming here.

“What if I simply take it up in the air then crash it, killing everyone on board?"

“You would die too."

“I do not like being forced to do something."

Mezzen, with what Laedo thought was uncanny perspicuity, approached the control board. His eyes darted quickly about the slides and keys. Suddenly he turned to the others.

“Take him away. We will experiment."

As he was hustled through the door, down the steps and across the ash-covered ground, Laedo took comfort in the fact, incredible though it seemed at first, that the gnomes had not relieved him of his handgun. The reason was obvious once he thought of it. The object was not a weapon in their eyes. It was simply an ovoid shape, moulded to provide a handgrip.

Now, he thought, should be the time to use it. But the prospect of one of those metal bolts tearing through his body stayed him. Besides, he did not know if he would have the stomach to kill the number of gnomes necessary to make his escape.

Perhaps under cover of darkness he could slip away from wherever he was to be held and recover the ship ... Such vague thoughts in his mind, a bolt-laden crosspiece still nudging his back, Laedo was marched beneath the huge catapult machines which he now saw closely for the first time. The beams on which the small cabins were perched were angled high in the air. Whole batteries of windlasses worked winding mechanisms for forcing down those arms, ready to be released with bone-shattering force.

Now they passed a line of blast furnaces and searing heat scorched Laedo's skin. The gnomes tending the furnaces seemed able to work incredibly close to their roaring mouths, as though they were impervious to heat. Further off could be seen a complex of metal-roofed sheds, probably factories and workshops.

A great mound of tailings loomed ahead. Laedo was conducted round it and saw, some distance away, the entrance to a downsloping tunnel. The gnomes urged him towards it, and soon he was being taken underground.

The walls of the tunnel were rough-cut rock, the roof buttressed with timber supports. Flickering light came from sputtering lamps set in cressets. At intervals side tunnels appeared, into which or out of which gnomes passed, carrying digging tools: pickaxes, shovels and rakes.

Was iron ore or coal mined here? Laedo presumed Klystar had stocked the planetoid with both, otherwise the gnomes would quickly have denuded their world of its forests in their need for charcoal for smelting.