The Players Read online

theirpurpose, and decided that Koree Buron and Sira Nal could use it as aplaying board. Seems they had a bet on, and their last game wasinconclusive. Both of the involved civilizations collapsed.

  "Each of them selected a portion of the habitable part of the easterncontinent as a primary base. Buron took the east, and that left the westto Nal. It so happens that the central portion of the continent isdifficult to pass, and that fitted in with their plans. You remember thedesert and mountain ranges, of course? Well, so far as I can discover,there was virtually no contact before the arrival of these three prizesof ours. And after their arrival, they made sure that there would be nocontact--not until they wanted it.

  "Of course, deserts can be crossed, and mountains can be climbed, butour three boys fixed it so it would be fatal for any native to try it.Then, each of the two contestants set to work to build up the warpotential of his part of the continent.

  "In the meantime, Genro was acting as referee. He's been checking theprogress of the two contestants, and making sure that neither of themsneaks into the territory of the other to upset something, or commitsany other breach of rules."

  Banasel slid off his bench. "Atmosphere of mutual trust, I see."

  "Precisely."

  "Where do the Kondaran priests come in?"

  "Oh, those two aren't going to confine the final stage of their game tothe one continent. That's just the starting point--the home base. Andwhat they're doing now is just the opening of the game. The end gamewill decide control of the entire planet. Sira Nal's just getting off toan early start, that's all."

  "This is legitimate, according to their rules?"

  "I guess so. According to Kir's tapes, he thinks it's a clever maneuver.'Sound move' is the way he expressed it." Lanko stood and walked over tothe reproducer set. "That all came from the tapes, of course."

  "How much more has Kir told you?"

  "As little as possible."

  * * * * *

  Banasel looked toward the prisoner. "Why not cooeperate? You're due forAldebaran anyway. And a little help now would make it easier for you andyour partners later."

  Genro Kir's lip curled. "As I told your friend, I don't have to lowermyself to work with a bunch of low-grade primitives."

  "See what I mean?" Lanko slanted an eyebrow at Banasel. "But I think ourfriend here will help us some, anyway. That 'sound move' he recorded isalmost sure to catch us one of the players."

  "Oh?"

  "Sure. What's the whole foundation of this cult of Kondaro?"

  "Why, they navigate ships. They keep strict security on their methods.They enforce that security by terrorism. They claim that no one else cansuccessfully cross the Great Sea, and it seems to be a proven fact thatthey're right. So, they collect from seamen, traders, and shipowners."

  "That's right. And they claim that only they can overcome the spells andactions of the sea demons, which try to destroy any ship that sails thesea. First, though, they navigate ships. They guarantee to get 'emacross the sea and back. Right?"

  Banasel nodded.

  "Suppose they start losing ships? Suppose that from now on, no shipreturns to port?" Lanko walked over to the control console.

  "Hey, wait a minute. I know these priests are a bunch of pirates--orsome of them are, at any rate. But we can't--"

  "Who said anything about destroying life?" Lanko spread his hands. "Wehave here a fairly nice group of islands," he pointed out. "Not toospacious, of course, and not possessed of any luxurious cities. Butthere's water, and fresh fruits are available in plenty. The ships areprovisioned fairly well, but they generally put in here for those veryfruits. So, all we need do is give a little unwanted help."

  "Shipwreck?"

  "Something like that."

  Banasel shook his head doubtfully. "It'll take a long time to underminetheir reputation that way," he objected. "And we'd have a lot of peopleon these islands before we were through."

  "I don't think so. Kondaro's a god, remember? And gods are infallible.Sira Nal can explain a few disappearances by accusations of irreverence,but he'll know better than to try explaining too many that way. I shouldimagine that the normal losses due to unexpected storms just about useup his allotment along that line."

  Lanko shook his head. "No, Sira Nal's going to have to do something toprevent any rumor to the effect that the sea god is losing his grip." Hepaused. "And what ship do you think I spotted standing this way?"

  "Oh, no! That's too much of a coincidence."

  "No, not really. We took considerable time gathering in our boy here."Lanko inclined his head toward Genro Kir. "And the _Bordeklu's_ homeport is Tanagor, so Musa's old ship wouldn't spend too much of a layoverin Kneuros. They're on schedule all right. You'd like to see your oldfriend, Dontor, again, wouldn't you, Musa? Sort of watch him try to savehis ship in a real emergency?"

  Musa grinned wolfishly. "Might be fun, at that," he agreed.

  * * * * *

  Dontor strode firmly toward the ladder leading to the observation deck.The slaves had rigged the screen, and the priest looked proudly aboutthis ship of which he was the actual and absolute master. Slowly, inmajestic silence, he mounted the ladder and passed through the openingin the curtain.

  He went to the middle of the forecastle, and stopped, waiting until thetwo junior priests had taken their positions near him and the slaves hadset down the equipment chests. The slaves straightened, and stood, armsfolded, waiting. Dontor inspected the area, then moved his headimperiously.

  "Very good," he said. "Take your posts."

  As the slaves left, the three priests opened their instrument chests,removing navigational tools. Alnar went to the folding table, spread thechart over it, then took his watch out of the chest and stood back,holding it.

  "Just about time, sir."

  "Very well." Dontor glanced at the juniors, saw that Kuero had hissextant ready, and raised his own.

  "Now," he instructed, when the readings were complete, "you will eachcalculate our position independently. I'll check your work when you havefinished." He replaced his sextant in its case, then headed the smallprocession back to the cabins.

  The ship's routine continued its uneventful course. The junior priestsreported to Dontor with their calculations. Their work was examined,criticized, and finally approved. They were given further instructions.All was well aboard the _Bordeklu_.

  The chief priest examined the charts and decided on the course for thenext watch. The ship, he thought, would have to put in for water. Andsome of the island fruits would go well on the table. He set a courseaccordingly, and went topside to give instructions to the pilot.

  * * * * *

  _"Are you going to help them on their way?"_

  _"It's not necessary, unless they start to by-pass the island. They'llhave plenty to worry about when they try to anchor."_

  * * * * *

  Ahead of the ship, the sea was calm. No cloud marred the bright blueoverhead. Slowly, a vague shape formed on the horizon, then it grew, tobecome a small, wooded island.

  The ship continued on its course, approaching the bit of land, andneared the breaker line. Orders sounded sharply, and the sailscollapsed, spilling their wind. A crew forward cut the snubbing line,and the bow anchor splashed into the water.

  The ship continued, and the anchor cable became taut. In defiance of thehelmsman's efforts, the ship continued on a straight course. The bowline stretched, then loosened a little, as the anchor dragged. Still,the ship refused to swing. Hurriedly, the crew aft dropped the sternanchor. But the ship persisted on its course. All hands forward tookshelter as the bow cable snapped and whipped viciously across the deck.The ship maintained its slow progress.

  Frantically, the crew backed the sails, hoisting them to take all thewind possible. The helmsman spun the wheel in a final effort to turn theship back to sea, then cast a glance astern at the taut cable, andducked for shelter.
r />   Sea anchors were hastily thrown overside, but still the ship approachedthe beach. The keel grated on sand, and the ship continued to moveforward, as though, tired of the sea, it had decided to return to theforest. At last, wedged among the trees, the vessel stopped, far abovethe sands of the beach.

  It was obviously there to stay.

  Dontor stood, looking seaward. He shook his head, looked forward, thendown at the ground beneath the ship. This was outside his experience. Itwas also outside the teaching so carefully instilled in his mind in theclassrooms back at Tanagor, and later during those long days and nightswhen he