The Guns of Two-Space (34 page)

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Authors: Dave Grossman,Bob Hudson

BOOK: The Guns of Two-Space
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"For Earth, this technology is a cancer, a tragic disease," said Vodi. Like the Rings of Power in Tolkien's writings, all the different versions of the electronic screen pollute and defile Earth's cultural environment. Art, the home, the conversation, and most especially the written word are its victims."

"Aye," continued Theo. "Westerness escaped that when we burst out into two-space and embraced our retro-culture, but Earth did not. We left our Admiralty at Earthport because our best naval facility was here. And, lamentably, across the centuries the Admiralty has become a part of Earth. But we, and the rest of the Kingdom of Westerness are frontier worlds. We espouse and embrace the old ways. And one thing we can be sure of—the thing that Tolkien, Heinlein and the other masters understood so well—is that sometimes there is evil in the land and brave men must go to war."

"Darkness comes," whispered Lady Elphinstone. "A kind of darkness that most men cannot imagine. Blacker than the space it moves through. And good men must go forth to fight it."

"'War,'" said Brother Theo, looking at the middies, "is Sanskrit for, 'desire for more cows.' And 'checkmate' in chess is from the Persian 'Shah mat' or 'the king is dead.' So what does that suggest to you, my young gentlemen?"

This was met with wide-eyed silence from the midshipmen, and finally old Hans answered the question.

"'At means we gots the choice o' givin' 'em all our cows, or whackin' their king!" said Hans. "I'm all for takin' a stab at the big kahuna, cause I kinda likes my cows. I'll be
damned
if'n I'll give em a single damned cow!"

"Aye," replied Brother Theo. "Well and succinctly put, Mr. Hans. On that note, let us conclude this evening's class and proceed to a more pleasant topic. The bottle stands by you, Mr. Jubal."

While the
Fang
's officers were hosting the middies in the wardroom, Lieutenants Archer and Crater were Melville's guests in
his
cabin. They had all read themselves in as Master and Commander of their respective Ships, and this meal was a form of celebration, as well as a good-bye.

McAndrews was, at best, an unimaginative cook. And Mrs. Vodi, who was sometimes called upon to cook for special occasions, was dining in the wardroom. So the meal in Melville's cabin was catered from the Pier, and it was excellent since they could afford to pay for the best.

Key members of the
Fang
's crew had been sent to form a cadre for
Gnasher
and
Biter
. The young commanders did not have authority to promote anyone to officer ranks, and the Admiralty was not going to give them any officers. But they did have the authority to upgrade from within the enlisted ranks, so top-quality young petty officers had been promoted and transferred. These individuals would form a loyal core of combat-hardened shareholders who would help Archer and Crater get off on the right foot.

For example, young Bernard Hommer (he of the golden halo of hair) had largely recovered from his wound and had been sent to Lt. Archer's Ship to serve as bosun and acting sailing master, and another top bosun's mate had gone to serve in the same capacity aboard Crater's Ship. Cookie sent her two best helpers to be Ship's cooks. Brother Theo sent his two top mates to serve as acting pursers. Each of the
Fang
's departments sent two trusted, experienced, loyal young NCOs to fill key leadership positions aboard these two new Ships. And, of course, they already had two Dwarrowdelf NCOs to lead their marines.

The remaining enlisted berths had been filled with eager volunteers from here on Earthport. There was no lack of experienced sailors and marines from aboard Earthport's swarm of luggers, brigs, and sloops who were willing to jump Ship to earn shares aboard a Westerness Navy Ship. This was especially so considering the wealth and fame of these three Ships. (Which was yet another good reason to appreciate Asquith, since it was his novel that helped to spread their fame on Earth
and
on Earthport.)

Archer and Crater were also able to find plenty of young midshipmen who were eager to sign on with them. Judicious selection from among many applicants had given them some experienced watch officers who would help cover their lack of commissioned officers. But the Admiralty and NAVPERS (the Naval Personnel Office) kept a tight grip on all officer assignments, and there would be no more officers for the
Fang
and her sisters.

Melville had given Archer and Crater what advice he could, encouraging them to stick to that harsh mistress, Duty, while listening to their experienced NCOs and acting fairly. "Your Ship will remain faithful," said Melville, "and you have a cadre of loyal, experienced NCOs. Listen to the advice of others, then make your own decisions. Be guided by your sense of duty, and allow yourself the time to grow into your position. Don't destroy yourselves because of the bad days, take pride in the good days, and never stop learning."

"We'll try to remember that," said Archer solemnly, while Crater nodded.

"You will not, you rascals!" replied Melville with a laugh. "After a brief, cautious period you'll think you know better than everyone else alive! Your Ship will give you confidence, and you will be full of piss and vinegar. Which is as it should be, I think. Just be conscious of what is happening, listen to your NCOs, and never forget your duty."

Then he concluded, lifting his glass, "To Duty, my brothers! And to our Ships!"

"To Duty and our Ships!" replied his companions.

"Eep!" echoed their monkeys happily.

Fang
,
Biter
, and
Gnasher
had rubbed against the Moss of Earthport, Mankind's most ancient Pier. And these three sentient Ships told their tale, just as they had told it to the Pier at Nordheim.
 

Kestrel
had been an old, old friend to Earthport. Her passing was mourned, and a fierce anger was kindled in the heart of that ancient Pier. Earthport intuitively and instinctively understood
Kestrel's
selfless, dying act that had helped her beloved crew capture
Fang
. The sentient entity that was Earthport was not surprised by
Kestrel's
sacrifice. It had exchanged Moss with
Kestrel
thousands of times across the centuries. In the end Earthport was
Kestrel
, and
Kestrel
was Earthport, and she loved her humans with the same intensity and purity.
 

Under the circumstances,
Kestrel's
sacrificial actions came as no surprise to Earthport, but the ancient Pier was shocked to its core by the three Guldur Ships' experiences. A Pier that had known only gentle, loving symbiosis with humanity was stunned when
Fang
,
Gnasher,
and
Biter
told of the bondage and hate that had festered upon their decks. And a Pier that had known only joy and prosperity suddenly knew fear and dread when it learned of the dark tide of death, destruction, and desolation that was spreading across the vast face of two-space.
 

From that day forth, each Ship that rubbed Moss with the Earthport became a part of
Kestrel
,
Fang
,
Biter
, and
Gnasher
, and they carried their tale and their warnings via a system of communication that could not lie, and could not be ignored.
 

A message was also sent through the bare feet of all those who strode upon the decks of Westerness' Ships, and to all who stood upon her Piers. The message that came to the men of Westerness via their Ships and Piers was not one of words, but rather of feelings, emotions, and concerns. If you could put those diffuse feelings and emotions into a single word, it would be "War!" Red war was coming. War to the knife.

And Westerness began to prepare herself for war. The
Moss
knew, even if the Admiralty was in deep denial. Even if her sailors and marines did not know it yet, they felt it. Oh yes, across that vast star kingdom, they could not help but
feel
it... and prepare.
 

The next morning the
Fang
's sails boomed and cracked like thunder as each piece of canvas, from the vast mainsails to the tiny royals, filled and hardened to the constant downward wind of two-space. The
Fang
took on ever more speed as each sail began to draw, until finally she left Earthport under a cloud of canvas.

As they sailed away from Earth, old Hans and Midshipmen Hayl were again high up in the cold air of the crosstrees.

"Okay, lad," said Hans, "that Poet Class frigate comin' in, who is she and what's 'er boats?"

"That's the
Emily Bronte
," replied Hayl promptly. "And her boats are
Remembrance, High Waving Heather
,
Night Is Darkening
,
Happiest When Most Away
,
How Still How Happy
, and
No Coward Soul Is Mine
."

"
Well
done, lad! Well done! I can see ya ain't been wasting yer time here at Earthport. Ya been studying, have ya?"

"Aye, sir. But I also knew that she was due in, so I paid special attention to her."

"Hoo-yah!
Well
done, again," said the old sailor with a wink. "Ya'd do well to study Emily Bronte, indeed. Like all the Bronte sisters, she died young, but what a mark she made, what a light she lit! '
No Coward Soul Is Mine
,' indeed! May we be able to make such a mark before we're called home, lad. An' may we be able to say the same."

* * *
 

No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
 

CHAPTER THE 9
TH
Forsaken:
"Risk the Wrath of the Gods!"

Shove off from the wharf-edge! Steady!
Watch for a smooth! Give way!
If she feels the lop already
She'll stand on her head in the bay...
Raging seas have we rowed in
But we seldom saw them thus,
Our master is angry with Odin—
Odin is angry with us!
Heavy odds have we taken,
But never before such odds.
The Gods know they are forsaken.
We must risk the wrath of the Gods!

"Song of the Red War Boat"
Rudyard Kipling

The Fang
and her crew sailed on, forsaken but not forlorn. The tin gods of the Admiralty were angry with them, and
they
were disgusted with the powers-that-be.

The important thing was that they had survived. Once again the
Fang
s had faced heavy odds. They had risked the wrath of the tin gods, and they had
survived
.

And that was good enough for now.

The good news was that at least Melville was now formally and legally the Master and Commander of the good Ship
Fang
, the crew and midshipmen had managed to put in some quality training time, and the
Fang
had been resupplied. The bad news was that they were forsaken: rejected, denied, and cast out by the Admiralty. And the unkindest cut of all came from NAVPERS.

The Naval Personnel Office was generally considered to be the Westerness Navy's version of Russian roulette. NAVPERS was responsible for all officer assignments, but it also assigned petty officers and warrants to Ships. And so, as one final indignity, NAVPERS (or some clerk hiding deep in the bowels thereof) had stolen away Roxy, their old, one-eyed, Jewish cook at the last moment before sailing.

There was still a good stock of food from the victuallers, since like all good department heads Roxy had completed refitting and resupply before going on liberty. She had been a sweaty, repulsive old figure, often with a chaw of tobacco in her mouth as she slaved over her boiling pots and pans, with a yarmulke pinned to her head. (Apparently, in her particular sect, the women wore yarmulkes.) But the fruit of her labors was the best Ship's fare anyone had ever known, and she was much appreciated and beloved. And during the mass-exodus of the boarding action in which they had captured the
Fang,
Roxy had proven herself to be hell-on-wheels in close-combat, with a meat cleaver in one hand and a pistol in the other. She would be missed.

Since drinking to excess, fighting, and consorting with the opposite sex are frowned upon aboard military Ships, that left eating and sleeping, reading and studying, competitions and crafts, drills and exercises, and daily duties as the main entertainments aboard. Eating was the first and foremost of these, and eating well was regarded as an absolute necessity to keep a crew's morale up.

All of which meant the assignment of Kaleb Jones, a graduate of the Westerness Naval Culinary and Catering School, was even more obviously a demonstration of NAVPERS' disaffection with the
Fang
. In fact, Jones was the worst graduate, with the lowest passing score ever seen. Which had resulted in his original assignment to the Admiralty galley being regarded as a masterpiece of revenge on the part of the Culinary and Catering School's commanding officer. No one was quite sure who he was trying to get revenge upon, but it was widely agreed that he had succeeded admirably! The situation was made even worse by the fact that Roxy's two best helpers had been assigned to
Gnasher
and
Biter
. All in all, it did not bode well for the stomachs aboard the
Fang
.

Thus it was a grim Shipload of
Fang
s who faced every meal with angry groans. Kaleb Jones was happily oblivious to the waves of hostility that came his way with every meal.

"Boys, I'm a gonna feed ya somethin' 'at'll change yer lives!" roared their new cook cheerfully, while he stirred the pot with the barrel of a loaded pistol. Jones had proven early on in Ship's competitions that he was deadly proficient with that pistol, and he handled his various chef's knives in a blinding blur of efficient activity that awed most sailors, so there was an understandable reluctance to confront him. "An' don' ya gimme no grief, now. I've spent all day chopping up these toothsome veggies and putting 'em in these damned cans fer ya. Heh, heh! 'Er majesty didn't send me to eight weeks o' catering school fer nothin'!"

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