The Guns of Two-Space (24 page)

They mourned lost comrades, and lost innocence. Then they slept the "sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care." And as they slept they healed, and steeled themselves to get on with all the glorious and mundane challenges of life.

* * *
 

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
 

Oh, the North Countree is a hard countree
That mothers a bloody brood;
And its icy arms hold hidden charms
For the greedy, the sinful and lewd.
And strong men rust, from the gold and the lust
That sears the Northland soul.

"The Ballad of Yukon Jake"
Edward E. Paramore, Jr.

Asquith woke up the next morning with two new things in his world.

First was a determination to adapt to this strange world. He had dreamt of guns that would not fire and a puppy that looked up at him with frightened eyes. And he knew what that meant.

The second was his monkey. He had a monkey. It was a tiny, dappled, fawn-colored thing at first, snuggled next to his head in bed, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

The two events blended together in his mind. The

monkey meant that he had been accepted by this world, and he was determined to accept it in return. Whatever that led to, whatever it meant, he was willing to give it a try.

The little earthling called for paper and pencil, and he began to write. During the long days of recovery and convalescence Asquith interviewed his fellow patients and he took careful notes as his monkey watched attentively from his shoulder.

The monkeys were on the captain's mind as well.

"It's the most extraordinary phenomenon," said Brother Theo, as he sat over a glass of wine at the captain's table. "The monkeys can die. We know that. We dissected one! And if the monkey dies and its human lives, then another baby monkey appears within the next few days, and, well, it appears that the new monkey has the
exact same
memories and personality as the one that died! Most commonly, though, the monkey dies with its human, and we bury them together. But what happens if the human dies, and the monkey doesn't?"

"Okay, I'll bite," said Melville, taking a sip of his wine as he reached up to scratch his monkey behind its ear. "What happens?"

"The monkey just... disappears! Nobody knows where they go, just as no man fathoms where they come from."

The monk held his hands up in a shrug of frustration and confusion, and looked over at the monkey on his shoulder, who promptly mirrored the gesture and said, "Eep?" innocently.

"Could they have been thrown into two-space, or maybe, I don't know, maybe they leapt into two-space in despair, or something?" asked the captain.

"No, Captain," replied Theo, shaking his head. "I observed it in our battles at Osgil and Ambergris, and that was my supposition. But there's no denying it. It's occurred too many times. I have too many examples. Nobody sees it happen, but they simply... go away. The host dies, and then they're just... not there anymore. There
is
no other explanation."

"Does the rest of the crew know about this?"

"Yes, Captain. There's no concealing it. And, frankly, everyone just takes it in stride. Two-space is a realm of mystery. They live with the inexplicable, like Alice's 'Red Queen' believing in the impossible twice a day. It's something we'll have to accept, I suppose. Maybe someday we'll figure it out."

"You rascals," said Melville, looking at his monkey. "You mysterious little rascals."

"Eep," agreed his monkey.

The flotilla of crippled Ships made their slow, uneventful journey across the vast dark blue expanse. Ordinarily they would pass through countless solar systems as they sailed the shoreless seas of two-space. Usually there would be glowing areas of orange, yellow, and red that meant they were traveled through suns. (Or over, or around, or beside them... whatever the relationship was between two-space and three-space.) They would have seen areas where the plane of two-space was cloud white, sea blue, grass green, dull red, gray, brown, and every other earth tone, and every combination thereof, as they sailed through planets.

But now they were traveling across the Grey Rift, sailing between the spiral arms, and there was nothing to see except an eternal sea, an endless horizon that constantly moved before them, and the unchanging stars and galactic lenses that hung above them. They were bearing north, galactic north, toward the legendary Dwarrowdelf world of Nordheim.

On the upper waist, every day except Sunday, Brother Theo Petreckski conducted classes for the middies. The Ship's boys and many of the crew also tried to make time for these sessions, hanging back on the fringes or sitting above the class on the mainmast yardarms as Brother Theo lectured the "young gentlemen." Today the captain was teaching and every available ear was listening.

Melville's primary goal was to prepare them for their visits to Nordheim and Earth. Since there was plenty of time, he began at the beginning.

His midshipmen sat cross-legged on the glowing white deck in their cropped blue jackets over white shirts and sailcloth pants, with Brother Theo sitting off to one side like a benign Buddha in his brown robe. A deck chair was brought out for the captain and he sat in front of the middies. Every soul had a monkey perched on his shoulder, and the monkeys gave the impression that they were also listening and understanding.

Melville looked at his middies with a touch of sadness. They were growing up. The ones who weren't dead.

Abdyl Faisal and tiny Garth Aquinar were the only two middies remaining from the
Kestrel's
original crew. Archer and Crater had been promoted from midshipman to lieutenant and were now commanding their own Ships.
Kestrel's
other middies were all dead.

Aquinar was still just ten Earth years old and small for his age, with a round face, and dark, wise eyes that seemed to look through you. He was too young to serve as a middie, but Captain Crosby of the
Kestrel
had brought the boy along as a favor to an old Shipmate. Part middie and part mascot, he had grown into an remarkably competent young man.

Faisal was tall for his thirteen years, dark and slender with a natural grace and elegance.

Ellis Palmer was huge for his twelve years, destined to be a giant. He had proven himself as a Ship's boy and had been promoted to midshipman shortly after they captured the
Fang
and lost their old
Kestrel
.

Anthony Hayl had joined them on Osgil. He was about the same age as Palmer but with significantly less experience aboard Ship. This was balanced by his experience in the civilian world and the preparation that his family had given him.

The final two middies, Hezikiah Jubal and Lao Tung, had proven themselves as able seamen and were promoted to middie after the capture of the
Fang
. These last two were next in line for promotion to lieutenant, if any promotions were ever to be given in the future. Which was doubtful, given the fact that the
Fang
and her crew were
not
in the good graces of the Admiralty.

"Lads," Melville began, looking out at the young faces of his midshipmen, and the other Ship's boys and sailors beyond them who also "happened" to be listening in. "In this strange realm that we call two-space, complex or advanced mechanisms can't exist. Our star kingdom depends on the crude technology of wooden ships, and the iron men who man her. We fight with cannon, sword, rifled musket, and bayonet. But can somebody tell me what the most important weapon in two-space is?"

There was a long pause, and then Aquinar answered, looking at his captain with eyes dark and deep as space, "Sir, the most important weapon is the human brain. 'All things are ready, if our
minds
be so.'"

"Aye," their captain replied, "well done. So who can tell me 'Steinbeck's Law'? Mr. Palmer?" he said, in response to the middie's raised hand.

"'This is the law,'" began Palmer in a deep rumble. "'The purpose of fighting is to win. There is no possible victory in defense. The sword is more important than the shield and skill is more important than either. The final weapon is the brain. All else is supplemental.'"

"Aye, well said," replied the captain. "Never forget, we made it into two-space without any outside help. Our minds were the weapons and the tools that got us here. Can you imagine what it must have been like when that great innovator and researcher, Kenny Muraray, created the first Pier, and saw it disappear up into nothing? Soon, Moss grew on the Keel and they went up and studied two-space."

He tried to communicate the awe and wonder of that first event to these young men, and to everyone else who listened. Their rapt attention made him think he was succeeding. Or maybe it was just their respect for the captain.

"Westerness was discovered by the men of Old Earth in the year 2210, over four-hundred years ago. That was almost a century after Earth's first, disastrous entry into Flatland, when they tried to take computers into two-space. The computers came back ruined, but they also came back with the Elder Kings' Gift: a devastating two-space virus that caused a total collapse of Earth's worldwide Info-Net. This resulted in what we call the Crash. But still the Pier was there, and those early pioneers went from the equivalent of a dugout canoe to the mighty frigates of today in just a few centuries."

Everyone around him nodded. This was an old tale, but one they enjoyed hearing again, and their captain gave it new twists and new credibility.

"So why did Westerness take over from Earth? Why did Earth step aside as leaders?"

There was a long, awkward pause, and then Tung answered. "Well, sir, the vast majority of human colonies came from Westerness, since we had lots of big, ancient Nimbrell forests to build the Ships and Keels. And Earth rebuilt their high-tech world, but that technology can't be exported across two-space. Earthlings all have nano-tech and bio-robotic implant stuff, and other technology that makes them live for centuries. But if any of that junk came into two-space, they'd be real dead, real fast. So, over the years they weren't willing to come out here and they just kind of lost their curiosity or excitement."

"Aye," said Melville. "High-tech can be a real trap. You can lose interest in two-space and become decayed and moribund,
and
you will always be vulnerable to another Crash. On major, star-faring worlds there's little need for technology beyond Victorian levels. So worlds like our Westerness, or Osgil (where we just came from), or Nordheim (where we are headed), simply don't bother with it."

His class all nodded. They understood what the captain was talking about. They also understood that the Guldur attacks were forcing Osgil and many other worlds to move toward machine guns, artillery, and other early twentieth century technology to protect themselves from invasion.

"So we've rejected technology," continued Melville, "and chosen to take another route. What is that route?"

Again there was an awkward pause, and finally Jubal answered, in a slow drawl, "Well, sur, maintainin' a two-space kingdom is what motivates us. Since high-tech can send yah off track, like Earth, we
choose
ta stay at a basic technology level. We call it retroculture: an intentional move backward in technology an' culture."

"Good!" said Melville. "In the Navy this is reinforced by our love of three major bodies of classic literature and history. Who can tell me what they are?"

Midshipman Hayl, deciding it was time for him to answer a question, raised his hand, and the captain nodded. "Sir, the major sources of literary inspiration for our civilization are: classic science fiction, the extensive biographies of great sailors such as Horatio Hornblower and Jack Aubrey, and (most importantly) Tolkien's
Lord of the Rings
."

"Aye," said Melville. "Quite right. Through these classic works of literature we are reaching back into our past to build the best present we can."

Then the young captain's voice grew low. He leaned forward and his eyes, his speech, his whole body communicated wonder and excitement. "It is a wild, crazy, wonderful and incredibly diverse galaxy out here, and we are privileged to see it. Most people never leave their home planet. The Ships of two-space are rare, and travel is too expensive for all but the very rich, or for settlers making once-in-a-lifetime trips. But you and I, Shipmates,
we
get to see this wonderful galaxy! And the most amazing thing that we found when we finally broke out into two-space was that Others were already here! Somewhere in the primordial past, an ancient, Ur civilization appears to have seeded much of the galaxy with genetically similar stock. Other races have been traveling out in this realm for millennia. We found fair elves who live high up in the vast trees of low-gravity worlds like Osgil, and doughty, stout-hearted dwarfs who mine deep into high-gravity worlds like Nordheim."

Melville added with a wry laugh, "There are even wolves, complete with goblin riders. (All of you have made an intimate acquaintance with
them
!) There are also orcs and ogres! And there are legends of silicon-based, troll-like life forms, and insectoid civilizations! Let's hope we don't have to fight them too!"

His middies grinned in response to their captain's jest, and he continued. "The crazy thing is, it's almost like Tolkien's writings were prophecy. Polite people talk in terms of 'Sylvan' and 'Dwarrowdelf' rather than elves and dwarfs. The Sylvan and Dwarrowdelf prefer it that way, and so do we because, quite frankly, we are all a bit awestruck and uncomfortable dealing with it. Our feelings toward Tolkien are almost religious. We treat this whole business as if it were the gift of some god, or like a gambler would refer to his luck."