The War Of The Lance by Michael Williams, Richard A. Knaak, Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman Page B

love to,” Standback said unhesitatingly and formally. “This way, please.”
    They moved down the junk-strewn tunnel. “You seem awfully at ease with women, even
     startlingly beautiful ones,” Mara told him.
    Standback was silent - a rare condition for a gnome. Finally he said, “Perhaps that is
     because I love someone.”
    “Really?” Mara was fascinated. “What's she like?”
    Standback Went on at length about the exquisite curve of her left little finger.
    “Okay, we'll take it that she's pretty. What's her name? Her human name,” Mara added
     hastily.
    “It's very beautiful.” Standback stared upward dreamily. “She's called Watch As Her
     Machines Move In and Out, Like a Night Watchman Blowing Out A Candle to Light a Lamp of
     Such Incredible - ”
    “The short form.” “Watchout.” He sighed. Mara nodded. "Standback and Watchout. You were
    made for each other.“ ”I think so,“ he said sadly, ”and she thinks so. But
    unless things change, it can never be.“ ”Why?" Mara asked sympathetically. Standback
     glowered and said suddenly, gnome-to-
    gnome, “Thatisabsolutelytheworstpart - ” “What?” He took a shuddering breath and said in
     slower human
    fashion, “That is absolutely the worst part of this whole business. I have not as yet
     received approval for my Life Quest.”
    “Your what?”
    “My Life Quest. My one achievement, my one goal. It is to be the sensors that go into the
     burglar alarms. I've already designed them and put them in place throughout Mount
     Nevermind.”
    Mara, remembering how she had slipped in without setting any off, murmured, “Still in the
     development stage, I guess.”
    “Oh, no; they're highly functional. By the way, how did you pass them?”
    “I made an elaborate and clever plan to drop from the top of the crater by rope on a winch
     . . .” Mara hesitated. Standback shook his head. "Impossible. I have every
    passage, every window, every cranny and cut of the outer mountain covered by a sensor. How
     did your plan work?" -
    Mara fidgeted. “I didn't use it,” she said finally. “I was standing at the steel entrance
     doors, trying to figure out how to climb up the mountain, while the doors were sliding
     shut. But the triple-lock fell off and jammed them open so I was able to slip through - ”
    “The doors.” Standback slapped his forehead, leaving a pen mark. “Of course. I knew I'd
     forgotten something. Sensors on the doors. Still,” he said quickly, “it was very clever,
     making a plan with a lot of rope and a winch. You're almost thinking like a gnome.”
    Mara chose to take that as a compliment. “Have you shown the committee the evidence of
     your research?”
    “I can't.” Standback looked uncomfortable. “I was cleaning them - with a perfectly fine
     solvent invented by a friend of mine - when they dissolved. Also, the table under them.
     Wonderful stain remover, though.” Standback's shaggy eyebrows dropped low as he brooded.
     “I can't re- apply until I've proven that I have a semi-working prototype.” He added
     sadly, “If only you had been caught or killed.”
    Mara sighed in her turn. “If only YOU were the master of the Weapons Guild.”
    Standback shook his head. “If I were, Watchout and I would be married by now. And I would
     be far above.” He looked upward wistfully, as though he could see through the ceiling. “Up
     where there is honor, glory, and matching funding. Where draftsmen constantly draft bigger
     drafting boards for bigger projects with larger cost overruns . . .”
    Mara, disheartened, listened as he described the Schedule Rescheduling Department, the
     Management Oversight Overseers, and the apparently all-powerful Expanding Contractors.
     “Tell me,” she broke in finally, “have any of these projects ever been finished?”
    Standback, shocked to the depth of his stubby little being, stared at her. “Young woman,
     any project worthy of state funding