Free The Warlock Wandering by Christopher Stasheff Page A

General-Governor made peace with the natives just in time."
    "Thou canst sustain thy selves?"
    Chomoi nodded. "The Wolmen bring in the food and fiber, and our men do the mining and manufacturing. But the end result is, we're not a prison planet anymore—we're a colony. And Shacklar's the Governor as well as the General, so he can do anything he damn well pleases with us. If he wants to let us go, we can go—but where to?" She waved an arm. "There's nothing out beyond that Wall but grass—and Wolmen."
    "He won't let you leave the planet?"
    "Oh, sure, if he thinks one of us should be allowed to—
    and if we can afford it." She shrugged. "He can't give away free spaceships, you know."
    Rod exchanged glances with Yorick. "Well, when the time comes, we'll find some way to get the cash." Yorick nodded. "I think the lady could be useful, Major. Real useful."
    "Vacuum your brain," Chornoi snapped. "I offered to help you, not service you."
    "Wasn't even thinking of it," Yorick said virtuously. "I meant knowledge-help. I know the basics about this planet, and about PEST..."
    Chornoi"s mouth twisted. "Who doesn't?"
    "Yeah, but, well, uh—about Wolmar. You've been here a few years, you know the lay of the land. It always helps to have a local on your side."
    Chomoi shrugged. "I'm as local as they come around here. At least I know who's who, and where the bodies are buried—some of them, anyway. And I've spent time with the Wolmen."
    Gwen frowned. "How didst thou come to that?"
    "They looked safer than the soldiers—and they were, while I was on probation. But probation with each tribe 62 Christopher Stasheff
    gave me a year to get my feet under me, and tuck my emotions into place." Chomoi shrugged. "What can I tell you? It worked."
    "So," Rod mused, "you're willing to help—if we help you."
    "Yeah, if you'll help me get off the planet."
    "If we can."
    "Well, sure—if you can." Chomoi tossed her head impatiently.
    "Of course," Rod mused, "if we do manage to get off this planet, you'll make us a marked crew. I mean, PEST
    has to have at least one agent here and if you leave, he'll blow the whistle. Then you'll have an assassin hot on your trail before you get past the first light-year."
    "I understand that." Chomoi's tone was brittle. "I couldn't blame you if you didn't want to take the chance." Rod shrugged. "I'm not too worried about it." Especially since we're planning to leave via time machine. "After all, there's no danger from assassins as long as we're on Wolmar—and without your help, we might not live to get off the planet."
    Chomoi nodded. "I'd say that's true. You said it yourself—that Wolman's murder was too nicely timed. It had to be designed to put you and your wife behind bars—or into an early grave."
    "We do have enemies," Rod admitted, "and I think they would be more interested in the 'early grave' option."
    "We will rejoice in thine assistance," Gwen assured. Chomoi gave her a peculiar look, but said, "Thanks, lady." And to Rod, "So what've we got?" Rod shrugged. "A Purple corpse." He added a bleak smile. "Even though all Purples are present and accounted for."
    Yorick spread his hands. "That's about all the information we have. Not exactly what you'd call a lot."
    "Nowhere near enough," Chomoi agreed. "We've got to

THE WARLOCK WANDERING 63
    learn more before we can make any guesses about who really did it."
    Yorick leaned back, fingers laced across his belly, thumbs twiddling. "Well, you're the local expert. Tell us—where do we get more information?"
    "At the scene of the crime," Chomoi answered.
    "Certes, 'tis no great need," Gwen protested. "Thou hast affairs of thine own to be about."
    Maybe it was the word "affairs" that made the young private redouble his efforts. "Aw, come on, Ma'am! I'm from Braxa! We used to make our own brooms there, all the time." He gave her a quick grin over his shoulder. "How else'd our mamas keep the houses clean?" He turned back to Gwen's broomstick. "See, it's just this