Mamelukes

by Jerry Pournelle

  That worked, Rick thought, exchanging a smile with Warner. It had been Warner’s idea to send ahead the merchant captain of the ship Major Baker had used to destroy the pirate vessels.

  “So they already knew the pirates were coming. How many do they expect?” Rick demanded.

  “Don’t know, Sir. The Councilors”—Clavell waved at the robed Nikeis officials still on the mid deck—“would know better. One said five hundred ships the other night, but nobody believes that. But a lot, enough to scare them. Never saw the Signory act so fast. They’re launching every reserve ship they’ve got. More ships than crews, they’re rounding up clerks and factory workers to be rowers, calling up the militia as marines. Damnedest stir you ever saw, Sir. Whole city’s like an ant hill! And they sure acted glad to hear you were coming to help them. Should I bring them up so you can ask them direct, Colonel?”

  “In a few moments,” Rick said. He eyed the Black man. “I don’t think they can begrudge me a few minutes to get your reports. Hell, it’s their fault I don’t know things already! Mr. Haskins, give me the short version of what you’re doing here,” Rick said.

  “Cal will do just fine, Colonel. I’m here to help Mr. Saxon set up a school. Least that’s what the CIA man told us back in the Tenderloin.”

  “CIA?”

  “Well, a Doctor Lee. Turns out he wasn’t CIA, but that’s what we thought he was. Said he was recruiting a teacher for a science school, Colonel. That was Mr. Saxon. The teacher he was recruiting, that is. Doctor Lee recruited him for a primitive place a long way off, and when I heard about it, I asked them to let me come along. Used to be I was a corporal in a nation-building outfit, and I hadn’t had much of a gig in a while. Sounded like something I could do. I thought I’d be going to Africa, but it turned out to be further away than that. Time I found that out, it was too late to turn back.”

  “Too late?”

  “That’s how they put it. They didn’t give us no choices.”

  “So you and Saxon were tricked into coming here?”

  “Pretty well. Damn well.”

  “You don’t seem too shook up about it,” Warner said, and Haskins grimaced.

  “Not now, maybe. Maybe I got over it. But I didn’t like it.”

  “You tried to resist coming once you knew it would take you off the Earth?” Rick asked.

  “Damn straight, Colonel, for all the good that did. Once we saw the ship we were supposed to get into was a flying saucer, they didn’t give us no way out. Next thing we knew we was on the Moon, and a policeman was telling us we didn’t have any choices, we had to earn our keep, go out to help Captain Galloway with his crop ’cause we was never going home.”

  “A policeman.” Rick frowned. “Did you get his name?”

  “Inspector Agzaral,” Cal Haskins said firmly.

  “And he sent you here to assist me? He named me?”

  “That he did. Go help Captain Galloway grow his crops, that’s what we were told to do,” Haskins said. “Didn’t understand everything and some of it sounded plain fishy, but that’s what they told me. We’re here to help you grow more crops by setting up a school. Mr. Saxon will know more than me. Ask him when we get ashore.”

  “Why isn’t he out here?”

  The ship pitched as a rogue wave came through the steady chop and Haskins gripped the quarterdeck rail.

  “Bart gets seasick,” he said. “And, maybe, he didn’t exactly trust the Signory Council guys. Thought somebody ought to stay back an’ watch Miss Spirit and the cargo. Damn valuable stuff, that cargo.”

  “Cargo. Shipping containers?”

  “Yes, Sir, three of them, with a lot of stuff we bought on CIA credit cards.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “High-tech stuff. Books, CD-ROMs, computers, windmill generators, all kinds of stuff.”

  “Evidently this is going to take some time to straighten out,” Rick said, and Clavell nodded vigorously.

  “You know it, Colonel,” he said.

  “And we don’t have much time. All right, Sergeant Clavell, is there anything else I need to know before we bring the Nikeisian people into the conversation? How safe are things in Nikeis?”

  “I don’t know, Colonel. You need to know a lot, and we ain’t got time to tell it all just now. Main thing is that Nikeis is run by factions, and right now the two main factions are run by Councilor Torricelli—that’s the one on your left there—and Councilor Avanti. Avanti’s son was the one that found Cal and Bart Saxon and Ms. Lorraine Sandori. Torricelli and Avanti right now between them have control of three cargo containers full of electronics and books and God knows what else.”

  “Guns?” Art Mason demanded.

  “Don’t know, Major,” Clavell said. “Saxon says not many, information mostly, not weapons. And tools. Lots of tools. But Torricelli has troops, and Avanti has troops, and the Doge has troops, and some of the other councilors have troops, and everybody’s got ships, and they’re all working together to fix up a fleet and train the militia to defend the place from these pirates, and nobody’s really in command! Not the Doge, not the Councilors, nobody. But while nobody’s really in charge, those guys give orders most will follow. So right now they’re the two most powerful men in Nikeis,” Clavell finished breathlessly. “They thought they was doing you a big honor coming out to meet you. And I don’t think it’s too wise to keep them waiting too long. They’re acting friendly, but they’re damned proud types.”

  Rick nodded thoughtfully, then smiled thinly.

  “Come over here,” Rick said. “You too, Harrison.” He gathered the three men into an embrace. “Warner, get in on this. Overjoyed to see our men again. Put your heart into it. You too, Art, Major Baker. Big dancing huddle circle! Look overjoyed.” He led them in a circular dance.

  Used to do that in football, Rick thought. Not that I played much. But they did, and it looks good.

  “Right,” Baker said tonelessly.

  They all joined in an exuberant welcome leaving Haskins outside the circle, then Rick opened a place on his left and invited him into the welcoming ring.

  “How long do we keep this up, Sir?” Harrison asked sourly.

  “Long enough to make them think it’s some kind of custom,” Rick said. “That ought to do it. Break. Back on your dignity. Can’t hurt to leave ’em a bit confused.”

  They broke the circle and stood back.

  “Okay, Clavell, invite them up. Look like we’re glad to see them.”

  “Yes, Sir. One thing, Colonel. Don’t get the idea you’re a better actor than them. Plots and stories and that sort of thing is the way they run this city, and these are the best they’ve got.”

  Rick nodded.

  Well, I’ve given them a good excuse not to be mad at us unless they want to be, he thought. The real question is, do I care? I have my men back. I need this Saxon guy, and those containers, but do I need anything else from this place? Of course that’s what they’ll be thinking, too.

  “Powder dry,” he said distinctly. Warner looked startled. Mason and Baker nodded in understanding.

  Clavell went down to the mid deck and escorted the robed figures up to the quarterdeck.

  “Colonel Galloway, I have the honor to present Councilor Torricelli, Councilor Avanti, and Senator del Verme. The Senator was recently appointed Admiral of the Home Waters. Signory, I present Colonel Galloway, Colonel of Star Lords and Warlord of Drantos.”

  Clavell spoke in halting Italian, then translated into English, and Rick bowed to each of the Nikeis dignitaries in turn.

  “It is my pleasure,” he said. “We have much to discuss, and little time.”

  He studied the three men as Clavell translated. The others hung back, willing to let Torricelli speak for them all. They all had the same look, trying to be friendly, maybe afraid they wouldn’t get that message across. They kept glancing at the twenty armed Gurkhas at the stern rail. The Gurkhas were seated but they gave the impression of being at attention. Not happy with t
he ship’s motion, but they sat like statues, their bayoneted rifles stiffly upright with their butts on the deck. The Nikeisians seemed fascinated by those rifles . . . and by the big kukri knives at their belts. Rick had no doubt the merchant captain had described their effectiveness against the pirate ships, and their power had probably grown in the telling.

  Torricelli nodded gravely.

  “Warlord of Drantos, we greet you in the name of the Doge and the people of the Most Serene Republic. As you say, there is much to discuss and little time, and this is hardly the proper place. Allow me to invite you to the Palace where we have proper records and maps, and we can make more meaningful plans.”

  “We’ve brought twenty ships and crews,” Rick said. “And their weapons.” He indicated the Gurkhas at the stern rail. “They will need berthing and shore quarters.”

  “This is even now being arranged. Do you have more forces coming?”

  “Perhaps, but the timing is critical. We should plan to win with the forces we have.”

  “That will be few enough against what we believe is coming.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Hundreds of ships from the Gavin pirates, Five Kingdoms, and Riccigiona.”

  “What is Nikeis’ relationship with the Grand Duchy?”

  “They have long been our rivals and they are now allied with the Five Kingdoms.”

  “Do you know of any reason they would sail against you now?”

  “Only that they’ve heard of the great boxes and wish to have them for themselves. Their joining this armada is troubling to us, as their crews are almost as well trained as our own.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Rick smiled slightly. “Your Captain Oranato will have told you of the effectiveness of our weapons.”

  Torricelli’s expression was impassive.

  “We can but hope,” he said. “We should make haste. There is little time. Shall we proceed?”

  Sure, Rick thought. And how do I know we’ll come back out of there? Clavell and Harrison didn’t. But I already decided this, I’m going in.

  “I will be pleased to accompany you to the city,” he said. “I will summon the fleet when Fleetmaster Junius and Tribune Alantamius have examined the arrangements made for their accommodation.” Rick indicated the Roman naval officer. “Major Mason, you’ll be in command here. I’ll leave Private Harrison with you to brief the Fleet Admiral and the other Roman commanders. Mr. Haskins, will you remain with them? I’m sure you’ll have a lot to tell them. Thank you. Now, Mr. Warner, you and sergeants Clavell and Bisso will come with me.”

  Rick bowed to the Nikeisian officials.

  “I will come with you on your ship, gentlemen. These Roman staff officers will accompany me to see to our berthing arrangements. Time is short, Excellencies, and I believe it’s time to get on with it.”

  “Colonel—” Art Mason looked horrified.

  “It’s all right, Major,” Rick said in English. “I don’t think it’s a trap, but just in case I’m leaving you with the firepower to do something about it, and Harrison to tell you who to do it to. I don’t know what these guys are planning, but they’re not likely to do anything until we’ve dealt with those pirates.”

  “Sure of that, Colonel?” Major Baker asked.

  “Reasonably sure,” Rick said. “Not so sure I’ll risk His Nibs until we know more. And there’s no need to let them suspect that His Nibs is with us, either.”

  “We need you more than we need—” Rick held up his hand. “Than we need His Nibs,” Baker finished, and Mason nodded vigorously.

  “Colonel, at least let me send some bodyguards.”

  Rick shook his head. “I have my pistol, and Warner has his—”

  Mason’s snort showed what he thought of Warner’s skills as a bodyguard.

  “More won’t help,” Rick said. “Harrison and Clavell were there for months without any problems.”

  “You’re just a little more important than Lance and Jimmy,” Mason said. “Colonel, I’d feel better coming with you.”

  “I would too, Art, but leaving Major Baker to command without knowing much of the local situation is a bit much to ask of him.”

  “Then take me with a section of my lads,” Baker said.

  “Trust,” Rick said. “We’ll need to show some, and this is as good a way as any. They’re not going to jump me while that pirate fleet’s coming to burn the whole place out!”

  “Yes, Sir,” Baker said. “Even so I’ll feel better when we’re all together again.”

  “Me too. But I won’t be any use until I find out just what the hell is going on,” Rick said.

  “Well, the Nikeisian situation is complicated,” Warner began, but Rick cut him off.

  “The devil with the Nikeisian situation. Ever read Sabatini? Typical Renaissance-flavored Tran politics. Nikeis I understand. What I can’t figure out is what Agzaral thinks he’s doing!”

  “Oh,” Warner said.

  “Precisely.” Rick turned to the Nikeisian officials. “If Your Honors will lead the way . . . ”

  CHAPTER NINE

  PALACES

  When they were aboard the Nikeisian communications ship, Rick cut short Councilor Avanti’s attempts to explain why Clavell and Harrison had been incommunicado.

  “There’s no need to explain,” he said. “I understand that you thought it was necessary.”

  “Then it is of no concern?” Torricelli asked.

  “It’s of no concern for the present. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to confer with my agent.” Rick bowed.

  “Of course,” Torricelli said. He even managed a tight-lipped smile.

  “Colonel, he looks fit to chew nails,” Clavell said, when Rick had drawn him and the other star lords off to the leeward side of the quarterdeck.

  “Will that matter? He knows damned well that I must feel the same way.”

  Clavell shrugged.

  “Colonel, far as I can tell, these guys don’t let how they feel interfere with what they have to do. This is the damnedest place for nothing being what it seems, but so far they’ve got the job done. And they damned well need help.”

  “So tell me what you know, Sergeant.”

  “Not a lot. We was set to come home when the story came in about the Five Kingdoms invading Drantos, but before we could get on the ship news came in about lights in the sky over on the mainland, and after that everything closed up really tight. They kicked all the Romans out—I think they jailed some of them, but I don’t know that for sure. Maybe Vinicianus knows—”

  “Vinicianus? He’s here?”

  “Sure is, Colonel. I was hoping to use him to get a message to you, but I guess he didn’t manage that.”

  “I see. Sorry. Go on. You may have sent reports, but I haven’t received any in quite a while.”

  “I wrote reports, Colonel. But the only way I could send them was to give them to the Signory to send for me, and maybe they never got around to doing that.”

  “You wrote in English, of course.”

  “Mostly English. I put in some stuff I didn’t mind the Signory knowing, like how smart my students were and how peaceful the place was—it was peaceful, Colonel—stuff like that in the language they use here. I even put some in Italian, not that I speak much Italian. I was hoping that if I said enough good stuff about them they’d want to send it on to you.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “Maybe, but I guess it didn’t work.”

  They were interrupted by shouted orders as the crew raised the large lateen sail. The ship got underway, heeling hard over as it began the tack northward, and the Roman fleet drew together behind them. Rick saw the flash of red cloaks as Publius emerged on the flagship’s deck. He was dressed in the standard clothing of a Roman high officer, and at this distance wasn’t recognizable as the Heir of Caesar. Of course, when he went ashore someone would know him, but Publius had wanted to remain anonymous as long as possible.

  He doesn’t trust them, Rick thought. Come to
that, neither do I, but what does Publius have in mind?

  Trust. None of us trust each other much. It wasn’t likely that Publius would be stupid enough to move against Major Baker in the hopes of gaining command over the Gurkhas. More likely, he would make an offer of friendship—not an attempt to bribe Baker away from loyalty to Rick, but more of general friendship. Like he did earlier, only that offer was to me and the target was Wanax Ganton. From the little I know of Baker, he’ll probably act interested and then tell me about it later. Or I hope so. I’ve got too many balls in the air. And I can’t let my mind wander like this.

  He listened as Clavell continued to report.

  “Anyway, they shut this place down tighter’n a drum, right about the time your wife was captured by Prince Strymon. Then the containers started coming.”

  “Containers.”

  “Three of them, Colonel. Standard shipping containers, maybe twenty feet by eight by eight high. I haven’t seen what’s in them yet, but Bart Saxon tells me they’re full of everything he could think of that he might need to teach high technology.”

  The ship began to move rapidly through the water.

  “What kind of ‘everything’?” Rick asked.

  “Books. Bicycle generator. Windmill. Encyclopedia. Microscopes. Things he calls laptop computers. I never heard of them before, but Saxon says the damn things can calculate. And they have these disk things with books on them, all kinds of books. Hundreds of books.”

  “And Torricelli and company control those containers.”

  “It’s complicated, Colonel, but that’s about the size of it. They’re all locked, and Saxon has the only keys. I reckon the Signory could bash their way into them, but not without us knowing they did it. One’s in the Arsenale, and that one they control completely. Another’s in Avanti’s palazzo, but Ms. Lorraine Sandori lives there with it. Earth woman. Speaks good modern Italian, good enough to get along with the Signory. From San Francisco—used to be a SFPD cop. She’s supposed to be subordinate to Mr. Saxon, but she don’t hardly act like she is. Anyway, she’s with that container, and I leave it to you to decide whether it’s safe or not. The third one’s in Saxon’s palace—well, my palace, too, since they put him in with Jimmy and me. Unless they moved it in the last couple of hours—and I don’t think so—Saxon controls it. But the Signory sure as hell have enough troops to take it away from him if they want to. He’s got a pistol, but I don’t think he knows much about using it.”