Mamelukes

by Jerry Pournelle

  The ship moved more slowly under oars, and Saxon frowned as he discovered something else he hadn’t realized about ships.

  Funny, I always assumed they’d be faster under oars, but we were actually faster under sail! Not as maneuverable, I’ll bet, but faster. And those other boats, those “fusta” Fieschi called them. They’re a whole different design. A lot narrower for their length, and I bet they aren’t as deep, either. They are faster rowing, too, I’ll bet . . . at least until the rowers get worn out.

  He supposed that wasn’t the kind of things navies worried about if they had steamships and gas turbines and nuclear power. Something to keep in mind here on Tran, though.

  The captain steered them through twisting narrow channels between islands covered with buildings until they came out into a wide lagoon a quarter mile from the main island. Just in the center of the main island was a low plaza.

  Palazzo, Saxon corrected himself. Palazzo. And apparently they use the same word for palace? Cheez.

  An ornately dressed group waited for them on the palazzo. A floating wooden platform about two feet high had been built along the water’s edge. Much of the paved palazzo itself was under six inches of water, but even so hundreds of people stood in the square, all waiting for them in ankle-deep water, all cheering. Two dozen men and a few women stood on the platform. Saxon scanned the crowd with his binoculars. Sandori and Senator Caesare Avanti stood in the center of the welcoming committee. Everyone seemed to be smiling.

  The crowd in the palazzo was definitely happy despite having wet feet, and they continued to cheer loudly as Queen of Heaven came closer. Most of those in the palazzo were men, but not all. Of those closer to the platform where the Doge sat, several were couples, generally middle aged to elderly. The women were all well dressed, but they mostly ran to overweight. Most of the women Saxon had seen, both here and on Terra Firma, were definitely full figured. A slender teenaged girl in the first row of those in the palazzo caught his eye. Well dressed, slender waist. She stood out from the crowd.

  Best not go there, Saxon thought to himself. I don’t know what their version of the Tenderloin looks like, but I bet it looks like a grave.

  The ship’s officers shouted orders, and the oarsmen on one side backwatered as the others pulled. The ship turned and was brought slowly alongside the floating dockwork at the edge of the plaza. As they threw lines out and made fast, Saxon saw two men standing near Sandori and Avanti. One of them was dressed more or less like other men of rank in the welcoming party, although there were differences. The other was wearing US Army battle dress. Both wore shoulder-holstered pistols.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  INTRODUCTIONS

  Lucia Michaeli hugged herself in excitement as the ship came through the lagoon towards Palazzo San Marco and the floating pier in front of her. No one noticed her excitement. The Palazzo was filled with shouting people, many of them standing in water above their ankles because they couldn’t get a place on the welcoming platform. Lucia couldn’t remember a time of greater excitement in Nikeis.

  She stood next to her father. Mother hadn’t felt well enough to come. She was in her fifth month, and it hadn’t been a good pregnancy. It wouldn’t be, Mother was too old to have another child, but God’s will be done. This would be Mother’s seventh, and only three still lived: Lucia, her older sister Catarina, and her older brother Andreas.

  God’s will. Professore Clavell never questioned God’s will. Never. But he showed that many plagues people thought to be the will of God were the result of small animals in the water, or of tiny creatures that lived in the blood of fleas, and by avoiding the causes one could avoid the plague. That there was often a way to prevent what everyone knew—had always known—was the will of God. That was disturbing. It was exciting, too, but there was no one to talk to about it, not even the Professore. He would not speak of God, not even of the new Unified Church that rumor said was sweeping Drantos. One story had it that it was the religion of the star men and was prevailing even in Rome. But Professore Clavell would never answer her questions about it. He would talk about medicine and health, and that was very interesting, and sometimes he would talk about other matters which he called “technology”; but he would never discuss God or the human place in God’s universe.

  When Signora Michaeli declared that she was unable to come to the welcoming ceremony, it was natural that Lucia would go in her place. Her brother Andreas was on Terra Firma contracting for charcoal, and her older sister Catarina was shy, seldom going outside the home except to the foundry. Catarina knew much about the foundry, and charcoal, and the forges, but she had few social skills, and she was afraid of meeting young men. She was two years older than Lucia, almost an old maid, and she would probably be a spinster, or go into the Church. Father despaired of her ever marrying . . .

  The crowd kept shouting as the navi was rowed across the lagoon. It was easy to see the great box on the deck. Container. That was the word Professore Clavell had used after he was told of the first one brought across by the star visitors. No one knew what was in those containers. One had been brought in the dead of night direct to the Arsenale where it was guarded by militia. There were rumors of star visitors welcomed by the Doge and the Signory, but not even Ginarosa Torricelli knew all the story! Not until today.

  Andreas’ friend Vincente worked in the Arsenale, and he’d told Lucia that the container couldn’t be opened, although he wouldn’t admit that anyone had tried. It had not been difficult to get Vincente talking, but he hadn’t known much. There were said to be locks that could only be opened by the Star Lord Bart, who would come with the last container. Lucia strained to catch a glimpse of the new star lord, but there was too much activity on the ship’s deck, and she couldn’t make out which one was the star lord.

  The ship came closer. The container was larger than she’d imagined, a huge box of painted metal. Ginarosa said that the one in the Arsenale was made of steel.

  This would be the third container. There was a second container in Senator Avanti’s palazzo! There were many rumors of how it had gotten there, but one thing was certain, the container now stood in Avanti’s reception hall. The other news was the star visitors, a black man and a star lady who had come with the first containers. The black man had gone back to Terra Firma, but the star lady lived in Senator Avanti’s palazzo! And now she could see the black man, on the quarterdeck of the Queen of Heaven! That must be the other star man with him.

  Lucia and Ginarosa had tried to see the star woman and the container, but they’d been turned away at the door when Ginarosa Torricelli tried to call on the Senator. Lucia chuckled at the memory. It hadn’t been easy to get Ginarosa to do that, even though everyone knew that Councilor Torricelli would be glad of a marriage into the Avanti household. It had taken nearly all of Lucia’s skill to persuade her friend to be so bold, and it had done no good at all. The major domo had been polite—everyone was polite to la Signorina Ginarosa Torricelli!—but he hadn’t even let them into the reception hall. They’d seen neither star lady nor container.

  Lucia’s maid said she’d heard from a cousin in service to the Avanti family that the star woman lived in the Avanti house. In a room with a door that connected to the Senator’s bedroom! Thinking about that gave Lucia strange tingles. Well, not so strange, she thought. Not now. Familiar, delicious. Lucia knew everything about sex except what it felt like when consummated. That would have to wait. Maidenheads brought a high price, and—she suppressed the thought and looked again at the container on the incoming navi.

  Everyone in Nikeis was talking about what might be in the containers, but Lucia didn’t think anyone knew. There were too many different stories. Still, the stories were interesting. Secrets. How to make weapons that struck down enemies from a full Roman mile! How to speak to someone in another city! Ways to cure diseases! When she asked Professore Clavell if those things were possible, he said they were! That in the lands he came from such things were common! “Technology,”
“high tech”—those were words he used, and Lucia was careful to memorize them. Despite her questions she hadn’t learned much more than that, though. Professore Clavell didn’t really know what was in these containers, and Lucia didn’t think he really knew how to do all those marvels although she didn’t doubt that he’d seen them done. Most people were like that, accepting what they saw without wondering how it came to be. It was surprising that Professore Clavell would be that way, but apparently it was so.

  Professore Clavell hadn’t talked to the star visitors. Or said he hadn’t. He’d even acted surprised to hear that there were star visitors in the city, although everyone in the Rialto knew about them. He had to have known about them. That was puzzling. Professore Clavell kept his own counsel, but he wasn’t very good at it. Perhaps he might be in Drantos, but not here in Nikeis where everyone had secrets and learned to keep them.

  He knew about the star visitors now! Lucia could see Professore Clavell, a handsome figure in his oddly cut velvet doublet. Good legs, his stockings didn’t appear to be padded. Perhaps a bit more at the waist than there ought to be, but not excessive, not like some of the Councilors.

  The ship with the star visitors came closer. The other star visitors, that was, for of course Professore Clavell was a star visitor himself, but he had been in Drantos for more than seven crossings of the Firestealer behind the True Sun. Lucia had grown up knowing there were visitors from the stars, but meeting Professore Clavell hadn’t been the same as meeting someone just come.

  The Signory wanted to know more about the star life, but Lucia didn’t think they were learning much. Lucia had learned as much in the classroom as the Signory had learned by all their questioning. Professore Clavell did not keep secrets. He just didn’t know that much. So who did know the secrets of what the Professore called “high tech”? Did the black man? Was that the secret of the stars, that only black men knew this high-tech magic? Or perhaps, perhaps . . .

  The star lady Lorraine wore a wine-colored gown. She stood close to Senator Avanti, who stood next to his father Councilor Avanti. The star lady looked thin. Perhaps she had hidden charms. And perhaps she knew the high tech, but Lucia didn’t think so. If she did, surely the Avanti family would send for someone who knew about foundries. Someone like Lucia, or more likely Catarina, who knew more about foundry operations than even their brother, nearly as much as Father. Someone who could understand. But the Avanti family had not done that . . .

  The navi was steered alongside the floating dock that was tied to the Palazzo. Lucia knew about such things, because Fernando had told her. Fernando’s father owned ships. He was a nice boy, and Lucia liked him, and sometimes she felt sorry for encouraging him when she had no intention of ever being more to him than a friend, but it was well to learn how to make boys do what she wanted. And useful! She’d learned all about ships and docks from Fernando. They’d even gone out into the lagoon on one of his father’s ships, Lucia dressed like a boy, but all the sailors knew! That had been exciting. Even her father had smiled as he berated her for doing it. Fernando’s father was a Senator, and he might someday become a Councilor. He was not a handsome boy, alas, and he giggled. But he was a useful friend, and Lucia was careful not to encourage him too much, but to keep him as a friend, even to let him hold her hand once. Once only.

  Sailors used ropes to pull the ship tight against the padded fenders on the floating dock. A shout went up when they were done, and an ornate gangway was thrust out to the ship. People pushed in front of her, and Lucia couldn’t see what happened next, but she knew. The Doge was making the new star Lord Bart welcome.

  That went on for a long time, then the Doge called Senators and Councilors forward. After each was presented he left the platform, so after a while Lucia could see. All three of the new star visitors were up on the platform with Professore Clavell and his companion. There was the black man. Lucia had never seen a black man before. And the Signorina Lorraine, thin, too thin, but she had strong muscled arms, lips very red, attractive wine-colored gown. Lucia envied her painted lips and red cheeks, and wondered if that too was a secret from the stars. The wind whipped up her gown to show her slender ankles from time to time.

  Her father took her hand. “Come.”

  Lucia put on her best smile as her father led her up to the platform. The Doge was seated on his great throne. He nodded greetings to her father as Councilor Fontana presented them to the star lords.

  “Signor Fabiano Michaeli, Master within the Metal Forgers Guild,” Fontana said.

  The star man Bart Saxon extended his hand, and her father shook it. And then, and then—!

  “Signor Bart Saxon, may I present my daughter Lucia, who comes in place of her mother who is ill.”

  Lucia held out her hand, and the Lord Bart took it, and raised it to his lips and kissed it! Lucia’s heart pounded.

  “Welcome to our most serene city,” Lucia said. And now is the time for all my art, she thought, but then she realized she was blushing, instead. Such a handsome man! It was all she could do to contain herself.

  And then Lord Bart looked at her, and smiled.

  I never thought to love, Lucia told herself. I never thought to love.

  She was presented to the black star man, and the Signorina Lorraine, but she hardly noticed.

  * * *

  Lance Clavell’s feet hurt, but at least the ceremonies were finally coming to an end. Maybe I’ll get to sit down sometime today, he thought and looked sourly at Jimmy Harrison.

  Harrison nodded. No need to say anything. Clavell wrinkled his nose and wished for a cigarette. That wouldn’t be happening. The nearest tobacco was a long way off . . .

  The ceremonies continued. This was one hell of a lot bigger reception than they’d thrown for Clavell and Harrison. We got presented to the Doge and some nobles in the Palace. They went the whole hog for this guy. That container, that has to be a big part of the reason. So what’s in it? Weapons? Books? Both?

  But at least we finally know what’s going on, Clavell thought.

  Three of them. Before the ship arrived they’d been introduced to Lorraine Sandori. They’d been separated before they could say anything important, but they had managed to exchange a few words in English. Clavell wondered if that had been a mistake. The Signory now knew that the star visitors all shared a common language, one that locals had little hope of learning. That might be important. Nothing to be done about it, of course. I’m not as clever as Harrison, Clavell thought. And neither one of us is a patch on the Skipper, but we’re all we’ve got just now.

  And it might not be important at all. It’s easy to get paranoid around here. In this place, you don’t suspect there’s a plot, you know damned well there are a dozen of them! But you don’t know what the plots are, or who can tell you.

  Bart Saxon. Looked like a professor. A real one, Clavell thought. And the way he and Lucia Michaeli looked at each other! Maybe nothing to that, but maybe there was, too. He didn’t know Saxon, but Clavell thought the man had looked interested—and Lucia had looked at the star lord in a way Clavell had never seen her look at anyone else. As if she’d lost control of her emotions, and that would be a very strange thing for Lucia the apprentice courtesan to do. Hard to tell, hard to tell.

  Of course Lucia was all dolled up. Not unusual for her and certainly to be expected for a big shindig like this. She looked pretty good, too. Young, but a lot of girls her age were already married here. They married young, and childbed fever had a lot to do with that. So many women died in childbirth—and so many kids died in infancy—that they had to start producing babies early.

  One more thing our hygiene lessons are helping with, thank God! Lance Clavell was prouder of some things than others, and that was a big one. Yeah, me and Semmelweis! You go, Lance!

  It was going to take a while for custom to catch up with the new reality, though, and young Lucia was definitely of marriable age here in Nikeis. And a lot of families would think it a step up to marry a daughter to
a star man, for that matter. Maybe the Michaeli family would think it was better than having her be a courtesan. It would certainly help their foundry business if this Saxon guy knew anything about modern metalworking. Clavell wished he knew more about metalworking, but he might as well wish for gold or extra ammunition . . .

  The crowds were thinning out now. The Doge got up from his throne and into a sedan chair. No wading across the Palazzo for him! He was carried across the Palazzo towards his palace, his bearers wading in ankle-deep saltwater. The tide was going out now. It was always high tide just after local noon and midnight. Must be sun tide, Clavell thought. This place don’t have much of a moon. He could understand how the sun—or a moon if Tran had a large one—might pull the water up as it passed over. But why is it high tide on the other side of the world from the sun or moon? He was sure he’d been told how tides worked, but that was a long time ago and he couldn’t remember much of it.

  “If you please, Professore,” Giamo said as Clavell and Harrison followed the nobles off the platform. “There will be more ceremonies in the Palace.”

  Harrison grimaced, and Clavell snorted.

  “I could do with a little less ceremony,” he said in English.

  “Me too, man.”

  Clavell looked over his shoulder toward the unfamiliar voice. Harrison was beside him, but behind them was a Black man in wilderness survival clothes that could only have come from Earth. Must be Cal Haskins, Clavell thought, smiling back at him.

  “The hospitality of the Serene Republic can get a bit heavy,” he said.

  “So you’re part of the Galloway outfit?” Haskins asked.

  “Yes. You know about Colonel Galloway?”