The Guns of Two-Space

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The Guns of Two-Space Page 18

by Dave Grossman


  The little earthling called for paper and pencil, and he began to write. During the long days of recovery and convalescence Asquith interviewed his fellow patients and he took careful notes as his monkey watched attentively from his shoulder.

  The monkeys were on the captain's mind as well.

  "It's the most extraordinary phenomenon," said Brother Theo, as he sat over a glass of wine at the captain's table. "The monkeys can die. We know that. We dissected one! And if the monkey dies and its human lives, then another baby monkey appears within the next few days, and, well, it appears that the new monkey has the exact same memories and personality as the one that died! Most commonly, though, the monkey dies with its human, and we bury them together. But what happens if the human dies, and the monkey doesn't?"

  "Okay, I'll bite," said Melville, taking a sip of his wine as he reached up to scratch his monkey behind its ear. "What happens?"

  "The monkey just... disappears! Nobody knows where they go, just as no man fathoms where they come from."

  The monk held his hands up in a shrug of frustration and confusion, and looked over at the monkey on his shoulder, who promptly mirrored the gesture and said, "Eep?" innocently.

  "Could they have been thrown into two-space, or maybe, I don't know, maybe they leapt into two-space in despair, or something?" asked the captain.

  "No, Captain," replied Theo, shaking his head. "I observed it in our battles at Osgil and Ambergris, and that was my supposition. But there's no denying it. It's occurred too many times. I have too many examples. Nobody sees it happen, but they simply... go away. The host dies, and then they're just... not there anymore. There is no other explanation."

  "Does the rest of the crew know about this?"

  "Yes, Captain. There's no concealing it. And, frankly, everyone just takes it in stride. Two-space is a realm of mystery. They live with the inexplicable, like Alice's 'Red Queen' believing in the impossible twice a day. It's something we'll have to accept, I suppose. Maybe someday we'll figure it out."

  "You rascals," said Melville, looking at his monkey. "You mysterious little rascals."

  "Eep," agreed his monkey.

  The flotilla of crippled Ships made their slow, uneventful journey across the vast dark blue expanse. Ordinarily they would pass through countless solar systems as they sailed the shoreless seas of two-space. Usually there would be glowing areas of orange, yellow, and red that meant they were traveled through suns. (Or over, or around, or beside them... whatever the relationship was between two-space and three-space.) They would have seen areas where the plane of two-space was cloud white, sea blue, grass green, dull red, gray, brown, and every other earth tone, and every combination thereof, as they sailed through planets.

  But now they were traveling across the Grey Rift, sailing between the spiral arms, and there was nothing to see except an eternal sea, an endless horizon that constantly moved before them, and the unchanging stars and galactic lenses that hung above them. They were bearing north, galactic north, toward the legendary Dwarrowdelf world of Nordheim.

  On the upper waist, every day except Sunday, Brother Theo Petreckski conducted classes for the middies. The Ship's boys and many of the crew also tried to make time for these sessions, hanging back on the fringes or sitting above the class on the mainmast yardarms as Brother Theo lectured the "young gentlemen." Today the captain was teaching and every available ear was listening.

  Melville's primary goal was to prepare them for their visits to Nordheim and Earth. Since there was plenty of time, he began at the beginning.

  His midshipmen sat cross-legged on the glowing white deck in their cropped blue jackets over white shirts and sailcloth pants, with Brother Theo sitting off to one side like a benign Buddha in his brown robe. A deck chair was brought out for the captain and he sat in front of the middies. Every soul had a monkey perched on his shoulder, and the monkeys gave the impression that they were also listening and understanding.

  Melville looked at his middies with a touch of sadness. They were growing up. The ones who weren't dead.

  Abdyl Faisal and tiny Garth Aquinar were the only two middies remaining from the Kestrel's original crew. Archer and Crater had been promoted from midshipman to lieutenant and were now commanding their own Ships. Kestrel's other middies were all dead.

  Aquinar was still just ten Earth years old and small for his age, with a round face, and dark, wise eyes that seemed to look through you. He was too young to serve as a middie, but Captain Crosby of the Kestrel had brought the boy along as a favor to an old Shipmate. Part middie and part mascot, he had grown into an remarkably competent young man.

  Faisal was tall for his thirteen years, dark and slender with a natural grace and elegance.

  Ellis Palmer was huge for his twelve years, destined to be a giant. He had proven himself as a Ship's boy and had been promoted to midshipman shortly after they captured the Fang and lost their old Kestrel.

  Anthony Hayl had joined them on Osgil. He was about the same age as Palmer but with significantly less experience aboard Ship. This was balanced by his experience in the civilian world and the preparation that his family had given him.

  The final two middies, Hezikiah Jubal and Lao Tung, had proven themselves as able seamen and were promoted to middie after the capture of the Fang. These last two were next in line for promotion to lieutenant, if any promotions were ever to be given in the future. Which was doubtful, given the fact that the Fang and her crew were not in the good graces of the Admiralty.

  "Lads," Melville began, looking out at the young faces of his midshipmen, and the other Ship's boys and sailors beyond them who also "happened" to be listening in. "In this strange realm that we call two-space, complex or advanced mechanisms can't exist. Our star kingdom depends on the crude technology of wooden ships, and the iron men who man her. We fight with cannon, sword, rifled musket, and bayonet. But can somebody tell me what the most important weapon in two-space is?"

  There was a long pause, and then Aquinar answered, looking at his captain with eyes dark and deep as space, "Sir, the most important weapon is the human brain. 'All things are ready, if our minds be so.'"

  "Aye," their captain replied, "well done. So who can tell me 'Steinbeck's Law'? Mr. Palmer?" he said, in response to the middie's raised hand.

  "'This is the law,'" began Palmer in a deep rumble. "'The purpose of fighting is to win. There is no possible victory in defense. The sword is more important than the shield and skill is more important than either. The final weapon is the brain. All else is supplemental.'"

  "Aye, well said," replied the captain. "Never forget, we made it into two-space without any outside help. Our minds were the weapons and the tools that got us here. Can you imagine what it must have been like when that great innovator and researcher, Kenny Muraray, created the first Pier, and saw it disappear up into nothing? Soon, Moss grew on the Keel and they went up and studied two-space."

  He tried to communicate the awe and wonder of that first event to these young men, and to everyone else who listened. Their rapt attention made him think he was succeeding. Or maybe it was just their respect for the captain.

  "Westerness was discovered by the men of Old Earth in the year 2210, over four-hundred years ago. That was almost a century after Earth's first, disastrous entry into Flatland, when they tried to take computers into two-space. The computers came back ruined, but they also came back with the Elder Kings' Gift: a devastating two-space virus that caused a total collapse of Earth's worldwide Info-Net. This resulted in what we call the Crash. But still the Pier was there, and those early pioneers went from the equivalent of a dugout canoe to the mighty frigates of today in just a few centuries."

  Everyone around him nodded. This was an old tale, but one they enjoyed hearing again, and their captain gave it new twists and new credibility.

  "So why did Westerness take over from Earth? Why did Earth step aside as leaders?"

  There was a long, awkward pause, and then Tung answered. "Well,
sir, the vast majority of human colonies came from Westerness, since we had lots of big, ancient Nimbrell forests to build the Ships and Keels. And Earth rebuilt their high-tech world, but that technology can't be exported across two-space. Earthlings all have nano-tech and bio-robotic implant stuff, and other technology that makes them live for centuries. But if any of that junk came into two-space, they'd be real dead, real fast. So, over the years they weren't willing to come out here and they just kind of lost their curiosity or excitement."

  "Aye," said Melville. "High-tech can be a real trap. You can lose interest in two-space and become decayed and moribund, and you will always be vulnerable to another Crash. On major, star-faring worlds there's little need for technology beyond Victorian levels. So worlds like our Westerness, or Osgil (where we just came from), or Nordheim (where we are headed), simply don't bother with it."

  His class all nodded. They understood what the captain was talking about. They also understood that the Guldur attacks were forcing Osgil and many other worlds to move toward machine guns, artillery, and other early twentieth century technology to protect themselves from invasion.

  "So we've rejected technology," continued Melville, "and chosen to take another route. What is that route?"

  Again there was an awkward pause, and finally Jubal answered, in a slow drawl, "Well, sur, maintainin' a two-space kingdom is what motivates us. Since high-tech can send yah off track, like Earth, we choose ta stay at a basic technology level. We call it retroculture: an intentional move backward in technology an' culture."

  "Good!" said Melville. "In the Navy this is reinforced by our love of three major bodies of classic literature and history. Who can tell me what they are?"

  Midshipman Hayl, deciding it was time for him to answer a question, raised his hand, and the captain nodded. "Sir, the major sources of literary inspiration for our civilization are: classic science fiction, the extensive biographies of great sailors such as Horatio Hornblower and Jack Aubrey, and (most importantly) Tolkien's Lord of the Rings."

  "Aye," said Melville. "Quite right. Through these classic works of literature we are reaching back into our past to build the best present we can."

  Then the young captain's voice grew low. He leaned forward and his eyes, his speech, his whole body communicated wonder and excitement. "It is a wild, crazy, wonderful and incredibly diverse galaxy out here, and we are privileged to see it. Most people never leave their home planet. The Ships of two-space are rare, and travel is too expensive for all but the very rich, or for settlers making once-in-a-lifetime trips. But you and I, Shipmates, we get to see this wonderful galaxy! And the most amazing thing that we found when we finally broke out into two-space was that Others were already here! Somewhere in the primordial past, an ancient, Ur civilization appears to have seeded much of the galaxy with genetically similar stock. Other races have been traveling out in this realm for millennia. We found fair elves who live high up in the vast trees of low-gravity worlds like Osgil, and doughty, stout-hearted dwarfs who mine deep into high-gravity worlds like Nordheim."

  Melville added with a wry laugh, "There are even wolves, complete with goblin riders. (All of you have made an intimate acquaintance with them!) There are also orcs and ogres! And there are legends of silicon-based, troll-like life forms, and insectoid civilizations! Let's hope we don't have to fight them too!"

  His middies grinned in response to their captain's jest, and he continued. "The crazy thing is, it's almost like Tolkien's writings were prophecy. Polite people talk in terms of 'Sylvan' and 'Dwarrowdelf' rather than elves and dwarfs. The Sylvan and Dwarrowdelf prefer it that way, and so do we because, quite frankly, we are all a bit awestruck and uncomfortable dealing with it. Our feelings toward Tolkien are almost religious. We treat this whole business as if it were the gift of some god, or like a gambler would refer to his luck."

  Melville grinned to himself, realizing that he was giving a reiteration of one of his academy classes. Captain Ben James, one of his favorite instructors, was the first person to ever talk about these things, and it had stuck in his mind.

  "Even the Sylvan and Dwarrowdelf themselves have embraced Tolkien as a kind of semi-prophecy. Tolkein always insisted that the power of his work was in its applicability, not its allegory. Now the application of his writing has achieved widespread cultural influence almost like the Bible. Just as the Greek culture and language was embraced by the conquering Romans, our culture and language have become the lingua franca for the elder races, and our literature, especially Tolkein, was key to that."

  "And now we get to see Nordheim," interjected tiny Aquinar, his normally calm voice squeaking with excitement.

  "Aye," boomed Lt. Broadax. She stood off to one side, leaning on her ax. Most of the group hadn't realized that she was listening. "Nordheim, where the Way of the Wind is a strange, wild way, carving her wonders out of snow-jeweled hills an' ice, amidst twisted emerald evergreens, an' granite spires flecked with sparkling quartz and mica. An' in the still o' the dawn ye will know the Splendor o' Silence. An' her mountains! Ah, her lush mountains filled with sweet veins o' gold, silver an' gems!"

  "Aye, indeed!" replied Melville, looking at her with a fond smile. "But the real gems to be found on Nordheim are her people, the mighty Dwarrowdelf. And now we are about to make landfall on that legendary world. Most Dwarrowdelf worlds are concentrated up here in the galactic north, where the planets tend to have a greater density of heavy metals. Just as the Sylvans tend to cluster out toward the edges of the galaxy and the ends of the spiral arms, where there seem to be more of the light-gravity, low-density worlds that they love.

  "And," said Melville, his face growing hard as he continued, "after Nordheim we are under orders to report to Earth. The people of Earth often seem rude when they talk about our culture. They call us 'primitives.' Sometimes they even call us 'Hokas.' Out in two-space, or on one of our worlds it's appropriate to challenge them to a duel in response to such an insult. Because, you see gentlemen, we are not Hokas! We are the Kingdom of Westerness! Our culture and values now rule one of the greatest empires in the galaxy. While their values and decaying culture sit festering and rotting on one lonely, sick old world."

  There were growls of agreement, and then the captain made eye contact with each individual as he continued sternly. "But, on Earth, provided you get shore leave, you will be their guests and you must play by their rules. That means no duels and no acts of violence. If you cannot live by the rules of a world, then don't go there."

  "Unless yer there ta kill the bastards!" added Broadax. "Then ya don't give a damn about their rules."

  Several days later they were met by a half dozen Dwarrowdelf longships, well before they had come in sight of Nordheim's Pier.

  "The Dwarrowdelf dislike low gravity," explained Brother Theo to his class of middies as they crowded the upperside rail to watch the approaching Ships, "which means that their 'longships' are, indeed, low and long, with only one sail on each of their three masts. With, of course, the obligatory row of heraldic shields lashed to the rail.

  "The Dwarrowdelf are also appalling shots," he continued, "so they only have a few 12-pound cannons in the bow. Their preferred strategy is to blast you at close range, then ram and board you."

  "Aye," drawled Josiah Westminster, who was leaning up against the railing beside them. "They ain't worth a damn in a gunfight, but with their big crews of ax-wielding maniacs, if they get a chance to board you, yer finished."

  All eyes were on the approaching Dwarrowdelf Ships. On the upper quarterdeck, Melville commented to Fielder, "They probably can't figure what or who we are. We must look like three forlorn and misshapen Guldur cripples, limping in with our crude jury rigs and sparse display of sails."

  "Aye, sir," replied his first officer dryly. "They're probably trying to decide whether to sink us or condemn us."

  Melville looked back on the two Ships traveling behind them, and he felt a great surge of satisfaction in what they had accomplished. In a
loud, clear voice he said,

  "Beauty in desolation was her pride,

  Her crowned array a glory that had been;

  She faltered tow'rds us like a swan that died

  But although ruined she was still a queen."

  His crew growled in agreement. Pride. Beauty. Glory. Still a queen. Those were just the right words to communicate how they felt.

  On the lowerside railing Cuthbert Asquith XVI stood beside Mrs. Vodi, Lady Elphinstone, and the other ambulatory patients, all looking at the Dwarrowdelf Ships coming in from their flank, and their sister Ships trailing behind them.

  "I still don't get it," said Asquith as he looked out at the magnificent sight with his one good eye, while absentmindedly reaching up to pet his baby monkey.

  "What don't you get?" asked Mrs. Vodi with a sigh.

  "Well, as I understand it," replied Asquith, "Flatland, or two-space, allows you to traverse the universe from one place to another in a straight line. That is, if we consider the galaxy in three-space to be a solid lens, like a vast frisbee, then if we want to go from point A to point B we have to traverse along the arc of the galaxy. Flatland reduces the huge frisbee of the galaxy to a small, flat disc. Thus allowing us to travel from A to B in a short, straight line... Am I right?"

  "Yes," replied Mrs. Vodi. "The key point is that Flatland seems to have everything much closer together, or maybe we can just move around in it faster. Either way the effect is the same. As if you took a big frisbee and compacted it into a dime, or something even smaller and flatter, and then hopped from one densely packed molecule to another."

  "Okay," continued Asquith, "so this means that the Keel of your dimensionally ambivalent Ship interfaces with Flatland, allowing a three-dimensional object to move within the realm of two-dimensional space. Still right? And, apparently for a sense of balance, the Ship must actually be Siamese ships, joined together at the keel, transecting Flatland by having 3-D objects above and below. Okay?"

  "Okay."

 

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