The Witches of Karres Read Free Page B

with him?" chirped the Leewit, walking backwards for a last view of Wansing's store.
    "Tough crook," muttered Goth. The Leewit giggled.
    "You premoted this just dandy, Maleen!" she stated next.
    "Shut up," said Maleen.
    "All right," said the Leewit. She glanced up at the captain's face. "You’ve been fighting!" she said virtuously. "Did you win?"
    "Of course the captain won!" said Maleen.
    "Good for you!" said the Leewit.
    "What about the take-off?" Goth asked the captain. She seemed a little worried.
    "Nothing to it!" the captain said stoutly, hardly bothering to wonder how she'd guessed the take-off was the one manoeuvre on which he and the old Venture consistently failed to cooperate.
    "No," said Goth. "I meant, when?"
    "Right now," said the captain. "They've already cleared us. We'll get the sign any second."
    "Good," said Goth. She walked off slowly down the passage towards the central section of the ship.
    The take-off was pretty bad, but the Venture made it again. Half an hour later, with Porlumma dwindling safely behind them, the captain switched to automatic and climbed out of his chair. After considerable experimentation he got the electric butler adjusted to four breakfasts, hot, with coffee. It was accomplished with a great deal of advice and attempted assistance from the Leewit, rather less from Maleen, and no comment from Goth.
    "Everything will be coming along in a few minutes now!" he announced. Afterwards it struck him there had been a quality of grisly prophecy about the statement.
    "If you'd listen to me," said the Leewit; "we'd have been done eating a quarter of an hour ago!" She was perspiring but triumphant; she had been right all along.
    "Say, Maleen," she said suddenly, "you premoting again?"
    Premoting? The captain looked at Maleen. She seemed pale and troubled.
    "Spacesick?" he suggested. "I've got some pills..."
    "No, she's premoting," the Leewit said, scowling. "What's up, Maleen?"
    "Shut up," said Goth.
    "All right," said the Leewit. She was silent a moment and then began to wriggle. "Maybe we'd better--"
    "Shut up," said Maleen.
    "It's all ready," said Goth.
    "What's all ready?" asked the captain.
    "All right," said the Leewit. She looked at the captain. "Nothing," she said.
    He looked at them then, and they looked at him, one set each of grey eyes, and brown, and blue. They were all sitting around the control room floor in a circle, the fifth side of which was occupied by the electric butler.
    What peculiar little waifs, the captain thought. He hadn't perhaps realized until now just how very peculiar. They were still staring at him.
    "Well, well!" he said heartily. "So Maleen 'premotes' and gives people stomach-aches."
    Maleen smiled dimly and smoothed back her yellow hair.
    "They just thought they were getting them," she murmured.
    "Mass history," explained the Leewit, offhandedly.
    "Hysteria," said Goth. "The Imperials get their hair up about us every so often."
    "I noticed that," the captain nodded. "And little Leewit here, she whistles and busts things."
    "It's the Leewit," the Leewit said, frowning.
    "Oh, I see," said the captain. Like the captain, eh?"
    "That's right," said the Leewit. She smiled.
    "And what does little Goth do?" the captain addressed the third witch.
    Little Goth appeared pained. Maleen answered for her.
    "Goth teleports mostly," she said.
    "Oh, she does?" said the captain. "I've heard about that trick, too," he added lamely.
    "Just small stuff really!" Goth said abruptly. She reached into the top of her jacket and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle the size of the captain's two fists. The four ends of the cloth were knotted together. Goth undid the knot. "Like this," she said and poured out the contents on the rug between them. There was a sound like a big bagful of marbles being spilled.
    "Great Patham!" the captain swore, staring down at what was a cool quarter-million in jewel stones, or he was still a miffel-farmer.
    "Good gosh," said the Leewit, bouncing to her feet.