FUNCTION. His first impression of his master was of a vague, dreamy youth of about his own age. Nikalan was now FUNCTION 3073 and Glasken shared a cell with him. His new master was agreeable but bland company, someone who did not understand the most basic of jokes, yet was brilliant at mathematics. Other components told Glasken that FUNCTION 3073 was nursing a great hurt: his sweet heart had been murdered.
" '84, there's something strange happening," Nikalan mentioned one evening.
"Strange? It's bloody horrible," Glasken sighed as he lay on his bunk. "Five system generations in a week, then all those simulations for the subcalculor group. You'd think they had better use for a marvel like this."
"They're experimenting with a smaller machine. Each system generation was for a different size, and it was followed by tests to determine performance peaks. I noticed that the equipment was confined to small desks. Runners took the results from calpoint to calnode."
"I know, '73, I know. All the components in the last generation were FUNCTIONS, so we had to do our own menial addition and multiplication. No justice, I say. We slave away to become FUNCTIONS but when we're promoted they remove our lackeys."
"You're missing the point," Nikalan said patiently.
"Well, what's your idea?"
"They are designing a mobile calculor."
Glasken sat up, his mind racing already. A mobile calculor might be taken outside Libris. "They're using me a lot in the tests, that must mean I'm being considered for it," he said hopefully. "That's good. There are aspects of Libris I really hate."
The aspect that Glasken hated most was that of sex--or the fact that others had access to it while he did not. With several thousand people of mixed sexes in the Calculor it was no surprise that opportunities often arose, yet they never arose for him. There was always a guard about to spoil things when fortune beckoned. There were women who looked willing, yet assignations always went wrong. Getting a female component pregnant was a serious offense, and he knew one component who had been dealt with in a chillingly severe way for doing just that. Still, there were means available to prevent such accidents. Why me, why me alone, Glasken wondered, sometimes hundreds of times a day.
The regulators in the Calculor were men, but there were a few women sprinkled among them. One in particular caught Glasken's eye, a woman with a particularly fine figure who often wore thigh-length boots. He decided that she had style, unlike the shy, uncertain girls of the University or the loud, ribald wenches from the taverns and bawdy houses. Glasken almost drooled whenever she strutted past wearing tunics and blouses tailored to show her figure to best effect. He especially liked her in boots with tower heels, and tight black fencing britches. He had never known anyone like her, and was desperate to broaden his experience.
He did pushups and situps by the hundred to shape up, sewed his uniform fight in strategic places to bulge impressively, sang his heart out whenever he could borrow a communal lutina, and sketched the beautiful Dragon Red many times from a distance. He did this for a good many other women among the components and regulators as well, but REGULATOR 42 remained his fondest hope for amorous conquest.
The day after he was upgraded to FUNCTION status he was sitting in his cell alone when he heard a tap at the bars.
"Shift check," said a husky voice. "Check," Glasken replied before looking up to see REGULATOR 42. She had never been on cell duty before, and he hastily added "Frelle 42, are you permanent on this shift now?"
"No, just relieving," she said, folding her arms under her breasts, and not without some difficulty.
Glasken made a show of sighing. "Such a pity, 42. The sight of you is all that makes this drab place bearable." His look of pathos had been practiced for long hours in front of a mirror. She smiled, a soft, open smile. The rate of his pulse shot up. Her tunic was of crushed red velvet, showing a great area of cleavage and fastened by one clasp above a row of buttons. He moved his hand, and the shadows of his fingers fondled her white skin.
"You're a handsome, clever beast, 3084," she observed, looking down at the shadows. "And my name is also Dolorian." Instead of swirling the honey-brown cloak to cover herself, she merely put a hand up to the clasp. He brought the shadow of his hand down to cover hers. As he moved the shadows, her fingers followed. On impulse, he moved them back to the clasp, then motioned them to tug. The clasp popped open. Each of the buttons below seemed in turn to depend on the clasp. Two quite large breasts with small, pink nipples surged out with such force that Glasken stepped back from the bars in surprise.
"Now you will have to put them back," she purred.
"My--my shadow hands are so clumsy, Frelle Dolorian. Perhaps if you stepped closer?"
She did. The pleasure of touching her flesh made his pulse race so hard that he could feel real pain in his temples.
"For all your cleverness you cannot work simple buttons, 3084," she said, folding her arms behind her back.
"It's the bars, lovely Frelle. Come inside and I shall show such skill with your clothing as you have never seen."
"But you may take my keys and escape."
"I'd never escape from wherever you are." There was a slight jingle behind her back, and Glasken realized that she was going to come in. There was at least a full half hour before the morning shift began. Sheer anticipation made him giddy. After all those months of deprivation he was about to plunder the greatest prize of all. The assembly bell began to ring.
In a silent, dancing swirl she drew back out of his reach, swept the cloak around to cover herself, whispered "Later," then melted into the shadows. When another REGULATOR came by some moments later Glasken was still frozen in mid grasp
"Reaching for something, FUNCTION?" he asked, stopping to stare with his hands on his hips. Only then did Glasken let his arms flop. "Come on, get your act squared. The Highliber's to make an announcement."
All off-duty FUNCTIONS and the elite of the lower components were herded into the back of the Calculor hall. Glasken stood with his hands slightly out from his body, savoring the lingering feeling of Dolorian's breasts on his fingertips. The System Herald rang twice on the bell and cried "System hold!" At once the whispering of men, women, and beads on wires tapered away in an orderly shut down and the partition curtains swished back. The Highliber entered and climbed the stairs to the System Controller's rostrum. Several Dragon Reds, Blues, and Silvers were lined up on either side of her. Lemorel was there, and over near the edge was the rebuttoned Dolorian. A double squad of Tiger Dragons flanked the components, the fuses in their matchlocks smoldering.
The System Herald banged three times on the floor with his staff of office and called, "Attend to the I-Iighliber, Zarvora Cybeline."
"Components of the Libris Calculor," Zarvora began in a sharp, clear voice, "I am the Highliber. I designed and built the Calculor." She paused to let them assimilate the words. She had not addressed the Calculor's components since the four Dragon Greens had been shot for degrading its performance, and many components had never seen her.
"Some of you are to be given a change of scenery. We are building a new, mobile calculor to assist the Mayor's army in battle. It will consist of only a hundred components. Those selected for the battle calculor will step aside as their names are called out and be mustered for immediate departure."
The System Herald began to read out a list. Nikalan was first. Lemorel winced as if slapped. There were no women selected, or any components with less than two years' experience as a FUNCTION. The list came to an end without Glasken's name being called. He was not disappointed. After the morning shift REGULATOR 42 would return to his cell, and the thought of what would follow made him pant so hard that the components on either side of him turned to see what was the matter. The Highliber was speaking again.
"The Inspector of Examiners also has a list of less experienced FUNCTIONS who are nonetheless strong, fit, and suited to life on the battlefield." Lemorel walked across and gave the herald a list.
"FUNCTION 3084" was th
e first name that was read out. Glasken gasped so hard that he began coughing. Lemorel smiled demurely and Dolorian looked down with a grin. "Conspiracy!" hissed Glasken as he pushed the component next to him out of the way and stamped off to join the other components of the battle calculor. He tried to stare Dolorian down, but she was not looking his way. He found that his eyes kept dropping to the gates of paradise that had been slammed shut in his face. The additional names on Lemorel's list brought the total number of components selected to 110. That was fewer spares than Zarvora had wanted, but the Libris Calculor could not spare more FUNCTIONS. A squad of Tiger Dragons marched the components of the battle calculor out into a courtyard, where they were gagged and chained inside covered wagons.
Basic military training took only a fortnight, as the components were only being taught to keep up with the musketeers and to defend themselves as a last resort. They ran many miles in helmets and light ring mail each with foraging pack, weapons, and calculor desk strapped onto his back. Glasken excelled in saber and musket and was fairly adept in the use of most other weapons, but Nikalan had trouble with everything. They were no longer known as component numbers, but by their real names: on a battlefield it would be much easier to shout a name than a number.
Glasken was grimly pleased that all the others were now subject to the same celibacy as had been forced upon him in Libris. The camp was on a cleared field about twelve miles from the walls of Rochester, and was used by the mayoral army as a shooting range and skirmish ground. The perimeter was well guarded, but Glasken felt there was little point in trying to escape. He was safe, well fed and clothed, and in a part of the army that would be as far from the front line as any slacker could wish.
The battle calculor was quite different from the thousand-component Libris machine. Each component had fairly complex functions to perform, and there were runners to go between them as they worked with problems and data passed about on slates. The battle calculor would be of most use when applied to a set piece battle where enemy forces could be easily assessed. Clerks would draw a quick map on tent cloth and set it on the ground. Colored blocks represented groups and types of fighters, and were moved according to orders from the battle calculor, or reports from scouts.
The machine's advantage was that it treated fighting as a game, like champions or chess, and was quick, accurate, and flexible. Unlike human commanders, it had no emotions or expectations as it ordered when to move, where to stand firm, and what to shoot at. Signals were sent by coded trumpet calls, whistles, heliostats, and signal flags. There were observers on mobile observation poles to provide a good overview of the real scene, but these were a favored target with enemy marksmen, and had to wear full plate armor.
At last they were put into the field with two groups of a hundred soldiers and officers of roughly equal skill. At first the practice team led by officers alone outflanked the battle calculor's team every time, and the troops jeered the components. Soon the calculor's officers began to get a feeling for the machine's power to make quick and accurate decisions, in spite of the unfamiliar form that the instructions took. The battle calculor's team was winning one mock engagement for every one that the others did by the end of the second day, and during the third it won them all. The odds were doubled, then tripled, and in a week the battle calculor's team could beat odds of five to one in set-piece engagements.
There were other tests, such as when a party of "enemy" soldiers was al lowed to break into the battle calculor. The components repelled them with the aid of the Calculor guard, compensated for "dead" components, and resumed operations. Once the components were even required to solve problems while drunk, and again when they were hungover. The results led to a total prohibition on alcohol. There were still more tests on how fast they could pack the calculor desks onto their backs, move a few hundred yards, then unpack and become operational again.
For all the training in tactical methodology that Glasken had been given in the Libris Calculor, he was quite unaware of the strategic value of the battle calculor. He paid little attention to the number of musketeers from Inglewood training illicitly with the Rochestrian troops, and it was fortunate for the Mayor and Highliber that none of the neighboring monarchs were any more observant than Glasken. Inglewood was, like Rochester, a small sliver of territory dominated by the Tandara Mayorate, which separated the two states and maintained a strict embargo on the transfer of troops between them. Rochester and Inglewood had once been part of a much larger and very powerful may orate one with proud military traditions. Those traditions were, in miniature, still very much alive.
With no warning the components were marched out of the camp one afternoon, stripped naked, and dressed in striped prison tunics. Next they were taken to a rail side and put aboard a wind train with a consignment of felons being sent to work on the Morkalla par aline extension. At the Elmore rail side the Tandaran customs guards came aboard. The train was searched for undeclared weapons, and the Rochestrian guards were changed for leased Tandaran regulars.
The train skirted the ghostly Bendigo Abandon, then went west across the Inglewood border, where the guards were changed again. All at once the components were given fresh uniforms and calculor desks, and set free from their shackles. By now most of them understood the Highliber's plan. Inglewood was limited by treaty to a tiny army of a thousand musketeers, fifteen mobile bombards, and sixty lancers. Nine mounted kavelars led them. The battle calculor could boost the power of that small force many times over.
Glasken and Nikalan were summoned to the tent of Field Overhand Gratian of the Inglewood forces, an angular, reserved man with a hatchet face and a penetrating stare. He was also a first cousin of Vardel Griss.
"Vittasner, Glasken, we are about to put the battle calcnlor to its first real test. Inglewood has declared war on Tandara."
Glasken felt his bowels go to ice. That was about as mismatched as putting him against the Libris Calculor in a mathematics contest. "Vittasner, you are to be the chief of components during the fighting. All will obey your orders with regard to the working of the battle ealcnlor. Your title will be Chief. Not an imposing title, but we're making this up as we go."
"Yes Fras," he mumbled. "Glasken, you are to head the Components' Militia, and will have the title of Captain. You will be subject to the Chief's orders until such time as the battle calculor comes under direct attack, in which case everyone will obey you. Is that clear?"
"Fras! Yes Fras!" Glasken barked, having absorbed something of military discipline already. "Both of you have already been tria led in these duties, and found to be best out of the components. Return to your men and prepare them. Dismissed."
"Fras!" they chorused. Badges of rank were pinned to their arms, a black CC on a silver background for Nikalan and the same with a CM for Glasken. That was the equivalent of Dragon Silver rank, and Glasken wished that Lemorel could have been there to see him with a rank equal to hers. On the other hand, he knew that she would eventually find out. He gloated over fantasies of the scene as he walked.
They called the components together and Nikalan gave a talk about an actual battle being no different from the training runs that they had been doing. Then it was Glasken's turn.
"Okay folks, who can tell me what happens to a component who loses sleep or gets drunk and can't perform up to benchmark?"
"Firing squad!" came the ragged chorus. "That's it. Anyone planning to drink a hidden jar of wine better remember that. All those out there in the firing line tomorrow will be depending on us. Also, if our side gets minced, the enemy isn't going to believe that we aren't regular musketeers. We have the most to lose if the attack fouls up. Everyone will want a piece out of us."
It was the first speech of his command! A rambling, disjointed little farrago, it was true, but it made the important points in words that all could understand. The components had to be frightened into being absolutely trustworthy. Unlike the Libris Calculor, this one had only one processor, so there was no parallel process
or to verify each calculation. The work had to be fast and accurate on one pass. They began marching well before dawn the next morning, and came within sight of the castle that was their objective in the first hour of light. The weather was dry and sunny as they passed the boundary stone for the Tandara Mayorate. Castle Woodvale stood among low, rolling hills and sparse woodland. A light wind was blowing from the north.
The fifteen bombards were of recent design, with brass-alloy barrels. They had a good range and fired cast-iron balls with lead cores instead of stone. Thus they could do great damage from just outside the range of the cheaper bombards that were standard in Tandara's castles. They had cost twenty times as much to build as a normal bombard, and had come close to breaking the military budget of Inglewood.
At the border eight hundred Inglewood musketeers and bombardiers joined their group, and after another hour they were set up on a low hill as the troops split up to block the par aline on either side of the castle. Glasken could already see a message pulsing from its beam flash tower, and the Tandaran capital was only four hours' march away--less by wind train or horse, and less still by galley train.
Scenario slates were given to the components. These had been worked out remotely at the Libris Calculor and transmitted in code by beam flash They included the wind strength and estimated train speeds. Extra squads of irregulars were marching with the Inglewood musketeers carrying spades, axes, and bundles of pikes.
The attack began while they were setting up the battle calculor and observation masts on a scrubby hill some distance from the castle. The Inglewood bombards were brought to bear on the castle's walls and beam flash tower, and an early hit smashed the gallery of the beam flash tower. News of the attack had been flashed north to the capital before the first shot had been fired, however, and relief forces were already in the mustering grounds. Galley trains were being shunted into place to transport them. Zarvora had, of course, cut off all the Calculor's par aline coordination for Tandaran trains. Glasken looked up in alarm at hearing a massive explosion some miles to the north, then another to the south. Seconds later a scenario slate informed him that the para lines had been blown up with wagons of gunpowder.
Souls in the Great Machine Page 26