The Guns of Two-Space (13 page)

"Noted," replied Melville. "So noted."

Broadax just chuckled and twirled her ax, while her monkey capered atop her helmet.

"How do you intend to go at her, then, sir," said Fielder resignedly.

"I'll tell you, but I want Hans to hear this as well."

Then he called up to the sailing master in the rigging, "Mr. Hans, if you have a moment?"

In seconds Hans slid down a backstay, landing with a gentle thump. He and his monkey spit tobacco juice over the side and he said, "Aye, sir?"

Gesturing at the enemy Ship Melville said, "We'll go at her and blast away any scrap of sail on the lowerside that can still give her steerage. After that we'll pound the hell out of her from one side until she bleeds from her gunports. Then we'll blast her some more, getting closer and giving her plenty of canister and grape after we've dismounted her guns. I intend to be sure that we've pounded her to a bloody pulp. We'll hammer her as best as we can without sinking her into three-space, and
then
we'll board."

"Well, sir, if it must be done, then I certainly approve of doing it that way," said Fielder.

"Aye, sir," agreed Hans. "By the Lady, thas my ideer of a fair fight."

"Damn straight," agreed Broadax, spinning her ax between her fingers like a profoundly ugly majorette twirling her baton. For today's work the
Fang
's sweet mistress of the ax had selected a vicious, double-edged chopper with a thick blond haft that was three feet in length, properly rawhide wrapped, and a head that weighed twelve pounds. It had a nice, pointy, six-inch spike on the top, so it could slice, dice, chop, and, when necessary, stab straight ahead.

"Aye," Melville replied. "Hans, we may be needing a jib and a spanker for rapid turning. Any problem with that?"

"No, sir," the sailing master replied. "The jury mizzenmast on the upperside shouldn't 'ave any trouble takin' a spanker, and there's no problem ta speak of anywhere else."

The "winds" of two-space were constantly downward, so there was no use for jibs and spankers (sails that ran parallel to the Keel of the Ship) except to provide thrust for rapid turns when placed at the bow and stern of the Ship. The
Fang
had used these before in battle, and the old sailing master looked forward to using them again.

With a big grin and another synchronized spit of tobacco juice, Hans added, "Proper use o' a jib and a spanker'll spin us on a dime so's we can bring all our guns inta play. An'
that
'll show the damn curs what
real
sailin's about. By the Lady, them stewpid bastards made one hell of a mistake when they decided to come after us!"

This last line was greeted with growls of approval from the quarterdeck crew. Then Fielder went to take command of the lower quarterdeck and Melville went to the lower bow gun. The Guldur's remaining mast would go down soon, and then the bowsprit. After that the enemy would be stripped clean of sails on the lowerside, and largely immobile. The
Fang
could come at them from one direction, dismount the guns on that side, and hammer the Guldur with impunity. Or at least that was the plan.

Again Melville waited by Cuddles
,
the lower bow gun, with his assortment of witnesses.

"Shipmates," Melville said, looking at the group with a wry grin, "it is possible that this might all have been a misunderstanding." That was received with cynical smirks from most of his audience. "Now that we are safe, I intend to go back to the surviving Guldur and try to find out why they attacked us. I hope to be able to explain to them that we mean no harm, that this was all a mistake, and that I intend to offer assistance."

The response among his audience ranged from total confusion in the case of Asquith, to serene inscrutability on the part of Lady Elphinstone, to conspiratorial nods and winks among most of the remainder. Everyone except Asquith understood that their captain had the right to go and attack these Ships, but he was going out of his way to make it clear that he had given the enemy a second opportunity to avoid the fight.

"However," continued Melville, "if they insist upon attacking us, then we will defend ourselves."

They only had to wait a few minutes until, at maximum range, the enemy's bow guns opened fire.

"Well," drawled Westminster, "It was worth a try. But you know what they say, 'Never pet a burning dog.'"

"Aye," replied Melville, "now everyone to their duty stations."

This time the enemy was not firing at their rigging. Previously the Guldur had aimed to slow them down, so that all four Ships could gang up on them. Now there weren't any other Guldur Ships in sight, and the enemy was aiming for their Keel, trying to make a kill shot. Fortunately they didn't have Melville's precision. For them it was a one-in-a-hundred chance... but they
did
have a chance. Everyone aboard the
Fang
knew that death could come for them this day.

Every heart was pounding with fear and anticipation. On the upperside the first enemy shot was low. A second later the shot from the enemy's lowerside smashed into the hull. The
Fang
reverberated from the impact of the big 24-pound ball and the deck shuddered beneath their feet.

The captain returned fire with Cuddles, and the battle was on.

Melville and Cuddles were able to make steady hits on the Guldur's remaining mast. The best the enemy could do was to put about a quarter of their shots into the
Fang
's hull, but each hit made the big Ship ring like a gong, and each strike of that gong could be their death knell.

On the upperside Mr. Barlet, the master gunner, was working with Sudden Death to slam cannonball after cannonball into the enemy hull. Barlet was intentionally keeping the ball high. He wanted to avoid making a kill shot into the Guldur's Keel, and there was no real value in hitting the rigging since the enemy would—hopefully—soon be dismasted on the other side. Barlet wasn't out to dismast or sink the enemy Ship. His goal was to dismount the enemy's bow gun and kill their crew. The huge 24-pound cannonballs were deadly, but the real slaughter was caused by the splinters of wood that fountained out like shrapnel as each ball punched through the enemy hull.

But the exchange was not all one-sided. Periodically the enemy did the same thing to the
Fang
that Barlet was doing to them, as cannonballs and splinters took their toll on Melville's beloved Ship and crew.

"Capt'n!" interrupted a young Ship's boy in squeaky excitement. He scurried across the deck, skipping over gun tackles and flaked halyards like a rabbit as Melville waited for the sweating crew to slam Cuddles back into battery. "Chips sez ever'thin's okay so far! Nuthin' we can't handle 'e sez. The wurst of it is that a cannonball destroyed some o' the support structures in the surg'ry."

"Damn," Melville replied. "We need the surgery up and working. Tell the damage control parties to make that a top priority until I say otherwise, and continue to keep me informed. And in the future you
will
refer to the Ship's Carpenter as
Mr.
Tibbits. Is that clear?"

"Aye, sir! Tell Mr. Tibbits the surg'ry's top prior'ty. Keep you informed."

Melville had a painful memory of another bright-eyed, irrepressible boy bringing him a message from the carpenter, and a similar reproach given in the heat of battle for using the term "Chips." The young captain reflexively whispered a little prayer that this boy would meet a better fate.

As the damage control team charged into the hospital the petty officer in charge was stunned by the carnage that met his eye. Mrs. Vodi appeared to have been buried under a veritable heap of esoteric medical equipment.

"My gawd! Mrs. Vodi's been hit! You men get that junk off of her!"

What
they
saw was an old lady buried in debris. What
she
saw was a group of hormonally challenged young men with large, sharp instruments in their hands.

"Put down that ax and back away slowly," said Vodi calmly, as she looked up from amidst jumble of straps, boards, and chains known as The Rack: the device used to hold their patients during surgery. Surgery in two-space was often conducted without anesthesia, since complex chemicals quickly decayed and lost their properties. This much-feared apparatus was designed to hold a writhing, pain-wracked patient at varying heights and positions, while also strapping him down and keeping him still during an operation.

The band of sailors pressed into service as a damage control team listened in dazed amazement as Mrs. Vodi continued. "You take care of bracing up that bulkhead there. I've got this repair under control and I
know
better than to underestimate the power of stupid men in large groups. You boys think 'cause you're guys that you're automatically good with tools, but trust me, it isn't so. When you master the one you were born with we'll talk about letting you get your hands on other stuff."

On the other end of the surgery Lady Elphinstone was operating on a sailor who had a large splinter in his leg. Vodi's tirade kept her patient distracted from his own agony, while the surgeon simply sighed resignedly, with a long-suffering shake of her head.

To add to the situation, the Ship's cats were all mewling and grumbling plaintively from the corners and under the beds. It was bad enough when the
Fang
's big guns fired and the Ship shuddered. But then cannonballs began to punch through the hull, making the Ship ring like a great gong as the deck planks bucked. The cats quickly climbed up the scale from upset and cross, to peeved, petulant, vexed, piqued, and nettled. And they were
just
about to work their way right up to irate, angry, and mad, thankyewverymuch. After all, just what part of "meow" don't you understand?

"Now git away," Vodi continued. "You
don't
want to mess with me. We have ultimate power. We're medical folk.
We
can cut your clothes off, buddy." Then she continued in a muttering monotone as she returned to her repairs, "Ask the average male if he'd rather be shot at or have a trouserectomy and you
know
what he'd pick.
That's
power."

Then Melville dropped the enemy's final mast. With each shot they drew nearer. The next two shots dropped their bowsprit, and the Guldur Ship was almost completely dead in the water. With three more shots he dismounted the enemy's bow gun. The crew cheered as the enemy cannon flipped in the air. Melville rolled off the gun, turned to Cuddle's gun captain and said, "I'm going to see how they're doing on the upperside. You give 'em hell here. Just be sure not to hit them in the Keel. We've worked too hard to capture these bastards. All your Shipmates will be seriously pissed-off at you if you sink them," he added with a laugh.

On the upperside Mr. Barlet had focused on the enemy's bow gun as they drew closer, and he had succeeded in dismounting the gun on this side as well. Now the battle had become a matter of maneuvering to stay directly off the enemy's defenseless bow. By putting up scraps of canvas on the lowerside the enemy could still turn slowly. The
Fang
had to deal with this possibility, and Melville moved to the upper quarterdeck to be prepared for rapid maneuvers. At the quarterdeck he met Hans, who had remained in command of the upperside while Melville fired the guns. Broadax was also there in her usual position, where she could watch the big picture and keep an eye on her marines.

"Hans, I want you to remain in command here. I'm going to the lower quarterdeck where I can watch and anticipate any jury sails or jibs the enemy tries to put up to turn their bow away from us. I think they're going to get tired of what we'll be feeding them."

"Aye, sir," Hans said with a wolfish grin, and Broadax growled her agreement. "Ya know, Cap'n, them vacuum-suckers over there can get a smidgen of steerage way by putting up sail on the upperside. Even without a balancin' sail on the oppersite side, a little bit won't tip 'em, and they've still got three good masts on this side. The trick is, anythin' they do without an equal thrust on the other side 'll be real slow an' sluggish like, so we should have lots a warnin'."

"Got it," said Melville. "You sound off over the voice tubes and let me know if they're up to anything on this side. Meanwhile, when we get within small-arms range of them I want you to turn us to start hammering them with the red broadside and our muskets."

"Aye, sir," Hans nodded.

"We'll be slipping the two cutters on the lower deck over the greenside. Without any masts on the lowerside I don't think the Guldur can have anyone high enough to see us doing that, and we'll keep the cutters' masts stepped so they should be hidden behind the Ship on the upperside. I'm going to put boarding parties in the cutters. We'll approach them bow to bow on the redside, and then board above and below from the
Fang
. Lt. Broadax, I want you to take the lower boarding party, I'll take the upper." She nodded and snarled her happy agreement as the captain continued. "The two cutters will stay out of sight, towed behind the Ship with their masts stepped. When the boarding parties have the enemy's attention, the cutters will swing around both flanks and take their upper quarterdeck."

Melville's commands had been given loudly, so the entire quarterdeck crew knew the plan. As he headed down the ladder to the gundeck he was met by Lt. Archer, who reported to the captain with a grin that nearly split his face.

"Permission to lead the boarding party, sir! I just thought of a crushing remark to make to a Guldur and I'd like to deliver it personally."

"Lt. Broadax and I will be heading up the boarding parties," Melville replied. "You may lead the force coming from the cutters. Send one cutter around each side in a pincher movement, with boarding parties on the upperside. The cur commander should be on the upperside quarterdeck. The plan is to hit them from all sides at once. Everyone got that?"

"Aye, sir!" replied Archer. "Cutters to swing around and hammer the upper quarterdeck from both sides. You hold 'em by the nose and we'll kick 'em in the ass!"