A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  “Oh, the ones like Eina Saisannin and Reimo Kivalian are okay. Well . . . better than okay. They’re the top authorities from Fuomon here in Caedellium. But I don’t know enough about their society’s history to get a feeling for how far we can trust them. Part of the information I gave them in exchange for their help was what I knew about steam engines, which evidently wasn’t as much as I thought. I admit I got ahead of myself. I told the people to go ahead and try to put one on a small paddlewheel boat. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured when it blew up and sank. Hell, it didn’t even turn the paddles once.”

  “I would have used a little stronger phrase,” said Mark. “More like crazy batshit lucky. I’ve also looked at the diagrams you showed me for the latest efforts. The best I can say is that it didn’t kill anybody. And it’s a miracle you’re getting any horsepower at all. The gearing is wrong. The condenser is too small. The cylinders are so bad . . . well, I’ll leave it at that. Oh . . . the fundamentals are there. The two-stroke cylinder and all, but I’d have started more basic. Something like pumping to establish reciprocal action and then transforming to rotary motion.”

  Yozef flushed, choked back a comment, and then laughed. “No, really. Tell me what you really think.”

  “Well . . . you asked for my opinion.”

  “All right, so where we are with steam power right now is shit. Where do we go next?”

  “It hasn’t all been a waste,” said Mark. “You’ve got people who’ve been working on it and who are aware of the basic principles, even if so many of the details are being done wrong. That’s a big leg up compared to starting from scratch. However, I suggest you put the steam project on hold while we develop some more infrastructure. Specifically, some real machine tools.”

  Yozef raised both hands, fingers extended. “Now you’re well beyond anything I have a clue about. Give me some specifics.”

  “I mentioned lathes before. Do you know what a lathe actually is?”

  “Uh . . . a machine to work metal?”

  “Right—among other things, but I guess this is foreign territory for you.”

  “Hey, I was a chemist. About the only machinery experience I had was with a lawnmower and a food mixer. I would need to be a chemical engineer to know more about developments that aren’t in a laboratory.”

  “Sorry if it sounds like I’m putting you down. What you’ve done here on Caedellium, with the innovations you’ve made, uniting the clans, and defeating the Narthani, is nothing short of amazing. In your place, while I might’ve introduced a few new products, I wouldn’t have placed any bets on things working out as well as they did for you and the Caedelli.”

  Yozef shrugged. “No problem. I’m surprised things ended up in our favor. What I’m hoping is that the two of us can complement each other. Let’s get right down to the nitty-gritty. I still want you to take charge of projects needing a real engineer. I've got my hands more than full with pushing chemistry, the university, plus setting up a central government without alienating the clans. And then the politics I have to deal with and can’t seem to avoid. The latter takes too goddamn much of my time.”

  Mark didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked at Yozef, the fingers of his right hand lightly drumming his thigh.

  “How much of a free hand will I have?”

  “A lot, but not absolute. I’m the one who has to find the resources you’ll need. I’d like to say you’re free to follow your own predilections, but let’s be realistic. I have to worry about Caedellium’s population and what’s going on with the rest of Anyar. I’d hope you would recognize this responsibility. I would assume the two of us would discuss projects. To be honest, I suppose I will have the ultimate say-so. After all, there’s not much you can do without people, materials, and political cover.

  “Don’t underestimate that last one. Caedellium was mainly an agrarian society. They have absorbed huge changes in the previous few years. In place of independent clans barely getting along, they recognized a central authority, though how deep that recognition goes is still evolving. Considering the sacrifices they made to push the Narthani off Caedellium, I’m not sure many other societies could have succeeded.

  “Then there’re the ongoing changes. I’m introducing centralization as fast as I think the Caedelli can accept it. However, most people, including many of the hetmen, still think of their clan as their primary loyalty over Caedellium. People need time to shift their thinking as much as I want. The degree of industrialization I hope to develop will mean a lot more changes than most of the hetmen have any idea about. No point in being too ambitious and losing the hetmen’s support. The Paramount position is too new for me to be deluded into ignoring lingering resistance or thinking that future events couldn’t erode my authority.”

  “I’ve been thinking about workers,” said Mark. “I get the impression that many of the projects, such as the rail lines, are slowed by not having enough workers. That’s going to be a killer if you expect to develop a steel industry and textiles like we discussed.”

  “The little I remember about the history of the Industrial Revolution concerned the upheavals in societies throughout Europe. There was a massive migration from the countryside to the cities, which were pit-holes of squalor, crime, and pollution. I’m committed to preventing that from happening to Caedellium. Plus, while I admit to wishful thinking, maybe if it can be done humanely on Caedellium, then the pattern might spread to the other realms of Anyar.”

  Mark’s mouth, brow, and eyes conveyed his reaction without words.

  “Okay . . . maybe I’m pissing into the wind on this one, but I want to at least think I made the effort. Anyway, I’ve talked to the ambassadors in Preddi City about getting workers to immigrate here. Another idea is to help mechanize Caedellium farming. In the U.S., the workforce went from something like seventy to eighty percent on farms to only a few percent.”

  “What are the main crops on Caedellium?” asked Mark. “I got a peek at farms across a good swath of the lands in Anyar’s southern hemisphere—Frangel to a piece of Sulako. The crops seemed to vary a lot. Recognizable grain crops predominated, but there were also broad-leaf crops of different types, appearing more or less frequently. I remember something looking like a melon or a pumpkin in Sulako. Wheat, barley, and rye look alike to me, but I’ve eaten foods made from all three.”

  “On Caedellium, the main crop is wheat and a fair amount of barley. Rye? I don’t know. Certainly not much. Wheat and cured meat were the two biggest exports before the Narthani showed up and cut off trade. That actually worked to the island’s advantage in the last year before the Battle of Orosz City. We had such a surplus of wheat and animals that we could divert people to preparing for the war and still have plenty to eat. Now that the Narthani are gone, the island has started exports again, although at a lower level than before. I assume the foreign markets found other sources or went without. We hope to regain those markets, and Caedellium has more land that could be put into production. Out of curiosity, Mark, how about corn and rice elsewhere on Anyar? I haven’t seen either on Caedellium.”

  “Neither that I know of . . . at least where I’ve been on the Drilmar and Ganolar continents. Of course, I haven’t been everywhere. I think the planet is a little cooler than Earth. Nowhere I’ve been would qualify as truly tropical, so maybe rice isn’t suited. Corn, though, is something else. Maybe it’s one of those random or selective issues on what got transferred here from Earth.”

  “I’ve wondered about that,” said Yozef. “I don’t know when different crops developed on Earth. Maybe some didn’t exist when the transplantation occurred. But why dogs and no cats? Wait! Have you seen cats? I know there’s none on Caedellium.”

  “Not that I’ve seen, and not as many dogs as I’d expect, and what they have seem pretty generic. You know. Not that many breeds. Several different kinds of cows. Something like a water buffalo in Sulako, but beef and occasional dairy in Frangel and other places we passed through. No sheep, thoug
h the krykor you’ve got here and similar animals elsewhere seem to fill the role. I’m afraid I wasn’t that observant, except for the main critters and plants. However, I have the impression plant life is a patchwork of Anyar and Earth species, with the majority leaning toward Anyar.”

  “For our purposes we’ve mainly got wheat and meat. From talking with the ambassadors, looks like those markets will take everything we can produce. Too bad about having to cure the meat. Exporting live animals just isn’t efficient.”

  “Well . . . eventually we could have refrigeration,” said Mark. “Can’t happen until we have steam power, and you’d have to work on the refrigerants.”

  Yozef grimaced. “Once again, too many things that depend on one another coming together at the same time. Well, it’s something to think about but not critical for what we’re planning. Just introducing a reaper should free up hundreds of workers right away. Maybe thousands eventually.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Mark. “Given a good-enough team of craftsmen, we should have the first ones ready in a few months. Longer term, we could have combines to reap, thresh, and bag within a year. That’ll take more work, but I’ve seen pictures of the big horse-drawn ones before engines took over. Teams of twenty to thirty horses and harvesting with only a fraction of the number of workmen you needed when doing it by hand. Of course, given time, we could have steam-powered tractors.”

  “I’ll take you at your word about the first reapers,” said Yozef, “but the mechanization can’t go too fast, no matter how much we’d like to push it. It’s got to happen on a timetable the Caedelli can accept without experiencing too much turmoil. I can’t have hundreds to thousands of families suddenly without employment.”

  Mark shook his head. “I think I’m just catching up with how complicated your life is, Joe. When I tried to introduce my innovations in Frangel, I never had more than thirty or so workers to worry about.” He winced. “And that didn’t work out well. You’re worried about the whole damn island. I don’t think I want your job.”

  “That was never my intent. It was just one damn thing after another, and it sort of happened.”

  “Well, I’ll be glad to let you worry about the whole island if I can focus on innovations.”

  “All right. Let’s take this systematically. For reapers, looms, and spinners, don’t they involve similar materials and craftsmen? We can set up adjacent teams so you can bop back and forth.”

  The manor door opened, and Anarynd poked her head out. “All us women are about to scatter, Yozef. If you don’t want to find your own morning meal, you need to get in here.”

  The head disappeared back into the house, and the door thudded shut.

  Both men rose to their feet.

  “I’d better get in and eat. I’m sure there’re already several crises at the headquarters that only the Paramount can solve.”

  “What about my machine tools idea?”

  “That, too.” Yozef smiled and turned to reenter the manor. “It can’t be that much more work to do three or more projects than two, can it?”

  Mark slapped Yozef hard enough to make him stumble.

  “Christ, now I’ve got to start watching myself around you like I do with Carnigan. Let me eat and then we can talk more at the headquarters. They’ll have to switch authority to you on some existing projects, and you’ll be starting new ones. No reason to delay getting you set up. We’ll need to decide on the details. I’m sure there’s existing space, but we can construct anything new as needed.”

  “The lathes and other machines come first,” said Mark. “It may seem like putting off what you really want done, but there’s no arguing around how much more will be accomplished when we have the right tools. Lathes, borers, finishers, drills, on and on.”

  Mark paused as he remembered his first years on Anyar. “You know, Joe, it’s one of those ironies. Everything I was trying on Frangel was aimed at getting enough money to plow back into bigger ideas. What I didn’t pay enough attention to were the effects on people and how Frangel’s factions might respond. I had grandiose plans that I thought I’d given up on when things went south. Now . . . here I am, and you’re pushing me to do even more than I envisioned back on Frangel.”

  “Well, at least we don’t have the Narthani breathing down our necks like we did when they were around,” said Yozef as they reached the door. “And it’s Yozef, not Joe. I know it's tempting to forget to be watchful about what we say. Oh . . . and what about steam and the railroads? I take it you think they should wait while we develop machine tools?”

  “From what I've seen, you're doing an okay job with the rail bed, and the track grade is shallow enough. I'd suggest we focus on that and use the horse-drawn trains as you've done. I made a few notes about the steam engine progress. I’ll think some more about what I can do while waiting for better cylinders. You’ll also have to make progress on steel production. I’ve a few suggestions there, too. I agree with the Bessemer process, but I’ll need time to think and examine more where you are. I’m sure I’ll have ideas.”

  Mark shook his head. “You know, the ideas we’ve talked about would take two, maybe three or four of me.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  CHAPTER 18

  NEW LIVES

  Heather

  “Do you think she’s ready to talk about it?” asked Anarynd. “She’s been in Orosz City almost a month.”

  Maera shrugged. “You and I have hinted to her a few times, but she deflects. There’s no way to tell when the time is right. She seems more relaxed than when we first met her, but that’s only in comparison.”

  “Maybe that’s just her way,” said Anarynd. “If so, then she has the right to keep things to herself. However, at times she seems withdrawn. Things became better for me when I had Gwyned to talk to. I think we should just come out and ask her. She can always tell us to mind our own business.”

  “All right, Ana, now is as good a time as any. She’s sitting alone in the garden. We won’t gather for mid-day meal for a couple of hours. I’ll see that the children are kept away from out back.”

  Anarynd found Gwyned talking to Elian Faughn in the manor’s nursery.

  “Gwyned, Heather is in the garden. Maera and I think this might be a time for us to talk to her.”

  Gwyned turned to Elian. “I think you and Walda can watch the children for an hour or so. Anarynd and I will be in the garden if you need us, and Maera will be in the kitchen or in her workroom.”

  They walked to the manor’s rear glass-paned double doors and out onto the paved patio. The wooden chairs were unoccupied.

  “She often sits on one of the benches in the garden,” Gwyned said softly.

  They followed the cinder path into the three-acre garden. It was the newest addition to Kolsko Manor, completed just before Mark and Heather arrived on Caedellium. Anarynd had originally requested an area with flowers, not specifying how many flowers or the area’s size. When Yozef sat with Anarynd and Maera to plan the project, they each listed what they would like to be included, the original intent to be selective about what to have in the final plan. When it came time to decide which ideas to drop, Yozef had suggested that they include everything.

  The path curved around a cluster of bushes covered with yellow blooms. Heather was sitting on an iron bench with a leather cushion. She didn’t notice their footsteps on the cinders as she stared at a decorative bluish-green grass waving gently in the morning breeze.

  “Heather, mind if we join you?” said Anarynd.

  The bench’s occupant jerked, startled from wherever her mind had roamed. “Oh! No, that’s fine. I didn’t hear you coming.”

  Heather leaned forward to prepare for sliding to the end of the bench, but before she moved, Anarynd and Gwyned sat flanking her.

  “It is so peaceful out here,” said Anarynd. “I thought Yozef was extravagant when we built a garden this size, but now I’m glad he did.”

  Neither woman knew exactly how
to start, but Gwyned, in her natural manner, plunged right in.

  “I don’t think you’ve heard the story of how I came to be in Orosz City and married to that big oaf. I’m originally from Moreland Province, a small town near Moreland City. I knew about the Narthani, but where we lived didn’t seem to have any relation to them. All that changed one day when . . . ,”

  Gwyned recited events from that day, then her years as a slave to a Narthon merchant who was Morwena’s father. Heather listened, initially puzzled why Gwyned was telling the story. However, her face tightened as the story unfolded. By the time Gwyned finished, Heather’s face was pale, hands clenched so tight in her lap that tendons rose under the skin.

  “It was a hard time,” said Gwyned, “but it passed. It’s something I’ll never forget, but I’ve put it behind me, not to let it determine the rest of my life.”

  While Gwyned talked, one of Anarynd’s hands rested on Heather’s shoulder.

  “My story is similar to Gwyned’s,” said Anarynd. “In my case, I wasn’t near home either but had traveled with my Aunt Tilda to a town to do some shopping. She thought I needed to get away from home for a day—things were going on in my life that I thought were dramatic.”

  Anarynd stopped for a moment, her mouth pursing. “Of course, I was naïve. We were in one of the shops looking at scarves when . . .”

  As had Gwyned, Anarynd summarized her captivity, the desperate escape with thirty other Caedelli women from Hanslow, her family’s rejection, reconnecting with Gwyned and reaching Maera, and ending up the wife of the Paramount and the mother of the Moreland heir.

  “Hardly anything came to pass the way I would've imagined,” said Anarynd. “I left my family because I refused to accept there wasn’t a better life somewhere. It was hard, but I had Gwyned and then Maera to help. Who’s to say how our lives can turn out as long as we don’t let the past rule us?”

  Tears started flowing down Heather’s cheeks soon after Anarynd had begun. By the time Anarynd finished, Heather’s face was dry, her hands unclenched and relaxed in her lap, and she leaned back into the bench. Gwyned placed her hand on Heather’s other shoulder. Several minutes passed.