The Gate of Time

by Philip José Farmer

  “So long!” Two Hawks said. After the door was closed, he rose and went into the bedroom. The bed was a huge four-poster with velvet curtains on which were depicted scenes from events in Perkunishan history. There was one that showed the torture of a Viking king captured during a raid on Perkunishan territory. Two Hawks did not find it conducive to sleep, but it did make him think. He must use caution in whatever plans he made to escape. That is, if he did try to escape. He had to admit that he was tempted by Raske’s offer.

  Well, why not? On Earth 2, one country was as good as another. He owed no one anything. Even those people closest to him, the Hotinohsonih people he could easily have identified with, had tortured him and then shut him away in an insane asylum.

  At that moment, Kwasind stuck his broad dark face into the room. He asked if he could talk with Two Hawks before he slept. Two Hawks gestured at him to sit down on the bed beside him, but the Kinukkinuk remained standing.

  “I didn’t understand that language you and Raske were using,” he said. “Is it permitted that you tell me what it was all about?”

  “Don’t talk like a humble slave,” Two Hawks said. “You have to be my servant if you want to survive, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk man to man when we’re alone.” He had thoroughly searched the room for listening devices and found nothing. He did not think that electronics was advanced enough to make “bugs” anyway. Still, there was the possibility that eavesdroppers could be hidden behind the wall. He said, “Come on, Kwasind, sit close to me and talk in a low voice.”

  Two Hawks gave him the meat of his talk with the German. Kwasind was silent for a while, his thick black brows lowered in thought. Then he said, “What this man says is true. You could become a great man, although you would always know that you were a stranger and you would see the contempt behind the smiling and the bowing and great houses and beautiful women they would give you. To the Wapiti (whites), you would always be the upstart barbarian. And when the war is over and they no longer need you, then what? It will be easy to find some reason to disgrace you, to strip you of your title and honors, perhaps even make a slave of you, perhaps even kill you.”

  “You’re trying to tell me something,” Two Hawks said. “So far, you’re telling me nothing I haven’t already thought of.”

  “They plan to make all Europe into one Perkunisha,” Kwasind said. “They are evil. They mean to exterminate the Dakota, the Kinukkinuk, the Hotinohsonih, and their own allies, the Itskapintik. And the white peoples of Europe will be made to speak the language of Perkunisha; their own languages will be forbidden. Someday, only Perkunishan will be known. The flags of others will be burned; their history books, burned. Someday, every white child in Europe will think of himself as a Perkunishan, not an Iberian, a Rasna, a Blodlandish, an Aikhavian.”

  “So what’s new?” Two Hawks said. “Maybe that’ll be the best thing. No more national hates, no more wars.”

  “You sound like one of them.”

  “I’m not. But their goals sound fine. Only I don’t like the means. But what’s the alternative? Are the Blodlandish any better; wouldn’t the Kinukkinuk wipe out their hereditary enemies, the Itskapintik and the Hotinohsonih, if they got a chance? Doesn’t Blodland want to extend its dominion over the world? Wouldn’t Aikhavia like to resurrect the empire it had under Kassandras the Great?”

  Kwasind said, “You told me that you thought slavery was wrong. You said that the white man of Europe of your world had abolished slavery as a great evil, and that the whites of this... this America... had done the same. You said that the black men and the brown of America were still treated as slaves, but that some day they would be accepted as equals. You said...”

  “You’re leading up to something besides a lecture on ethics,” Two Hawks said. “You’re sounding me out because you’re not sure you should tell me something. Right?”

  “You see into my liver and read all that is therein.”

  “Not quite. But I’ll bet ten to one that someone’s contacted you about an escape. A Blodlandish has talked to you.”

  Kwasind nodded and said, “I have to trust you. If I don’t, there’s no escape. They want you, not me. Now, I talked to you about the evils of Perkunisha because I wanted to get your reaction. I wanted to know how you felt about them, not what you thought about them. In your liver, do you feel that Perkunisha is wrong? You know that its enemies have their faults but you also know they have a right to work out their own destinies. How do you feel?”

  Two Hawks rose from his chair and walked over to Kwasind. He put his hand on Kwasind’s huge shoulder. “I don’t really know about Blodland or the other countries. But I feel that Perkunisha has too many similarities to the Germany of my world. Maybe I could learn to stomach the Perkunishans. I don’t really think so.”

  “That is what I hoped to hear you say.”

  Two Hawks said, “If I’d said I was sticking with Perkunisha, you would have killed me, wouldn’t you? The Blodlandish want me alive, but if they can’t get me, they’ll try to make sure their enemy won’t have me either. Isn’t that so?”

  “I won’t lie,” Kwasind said. “You are my friend; you saved my life. Yet, for my country, I would have killed you with these hands. Then I would have killed as many Perkunishans as I could before they killed me!”

  “O.K. So, what’s the plan?”

  “I’ll be told when the time is right. Meanwhile, you’re to cooperate with the enemy.”

  Kwasind went to his bedroom. Two Hawks lay awake for a while on his own bed. He thought of Horst Raske. The German thought he had this world in his hands. But if the Blodlandish meant to kill Two Hawks if he did side with the Perkunishans, then they must be planning to assassinate Raske. Only by killing him could they deprive the Perkunishans of the superior weapons and technology Raske could provide.

  12

  The following week was busy. Each morning, Two Hawks spent three hours with language lessons. After these, he worked until midnight or later in his office. This was in a huge factory on the outskirts of Berlin. He rode to work in a car which was preceded and followed by armored cars. He knew they were there not only to bar his escape but to guard him against assassination.

  Raske gave him the task of building a device to synchronize machine-gun fire with the revolutions of an airplane propeller. Two Hawks knew the basic principles. Even so, it took him four days to construct a prototype. His first job done, he then supervised a group working on rockets to be fired from an airplane. This took him a week. After that, he was made head engineer of a group that was designing machines, tools, and techniques for building aircraft on a mass basis.

  Two Hawks had only gotten started on this when Raske removed him. The German said, “I have a much more interesting job. You and I are going to train pilots. These will be the nucleus of the Imperial Perkunishan Air Force. How does it feel to be cofounder of an air force?”

  Raske glowed with joy. He was always enthusiastic, happy, and optimistic. Two Hawks knew that Raske would have him shot if he thought Two Hawks was a traitor, but he could not help liking Raske. The feeling certainly made it easier to work with, and for, him.

  Three weeks passed. Fall came swiftly; winter would soon be here. Two Hawks asked Kwasind if he had received any more messages from the Blodland agents. Kwasind replied, “No. I was told I would not be contacted again until they’re ready to act.”

  Two Hawks did not tell Kwasind that he was not, at the moment, concerned about escape. Despite himself, he was getting enthusiastic about the pilot-training. By then, there were four tandem two-seater monoplanes ready, all hand-built. Each had a rotary, water-cooled, 12-cylinder engine, dual controls, and a range of 150 miles. They could cruise at 100 mph.

  They were far from being what Raske could have built if he had had more time and better materials. Aluminium was lacking, and the steel was not even up to the 1918 A.D. standards of Earth 1. The gasoline was low grade. Thus, the airplane had to be of utmost simplicity and confined
in speed and range. Still, they were adequate for the present purposes of the Perkunishan Air Force, which were scouting and strafing and bombing of near-front ammunition dumps. And the destruction of dirigibles.

  Raske planned on building more rugged and faster pursuit planes later and also hoped to have a force of two-motored bombers. The Perkunishan High Command said that this would have to be much later. It expected to have finished conquest of Europe before these were needed. When the time came to tackle the Ikhwani of South Africa and the Saariset (the Finnic speakers of the Japanese islands of Earth 1), then better and more varied aircraft could be designed.

  The day that Raske flew the first one, the Kassandras himself came out with the High Command to observe.

  The Perkunishan ruler was a tall, heavily bearded man in his early fifties. He had lost his right arm in the last war when he led an infantry charge against the only Blodlandish fort holding out on the European mainland. During the face-to-face combat that followed, a Blodlandish officer had severed the young officer’s arm during a sword-fight. The outraged Perkunishan troops had executed the Blodlandish victor and then massacred all the defenders.

  Two Hawks was introduced to the Kassandras. Having been drilled for an hour on the ritual phrases and gestures used during the occasion, he got through it without disgracing himself. The

  Kassandras had Two Hawks stand by him since he wanted his technical questions answered while Raske was aloft. Raske swaggered out of the hangar. He wore a red, black, and blue uniform he had designed himself as the dress of the new air force. On his head was a helmet with a spike on top, a long yellow scarf was tied around his neck, and he carried a pair of goggles with hexagonal rims.

  The Kassandras’ daughter, Persinai, went to him, and he put his arm around her waist and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Her father did not seem to mind what they were doing, but some of the noblemen scowled. They belonged to a faction that did not like the princess being in love with a foreigner and, far worse, a commoner. Nor did they like the power he had in military affairs. It was no secret that the head of Internal Security, himself only a lesser nobleman, half-Rasnan, was a very good friend of Raske’s.

  Raske climbed into the plane and started the engine. This made the High Command gasp, since internal-combustion ground vehicles so far had to be cranked and the dirigible motors had to be turned over by auxiliary steam-engines before starting. The silvery low-wing monoplane took off, climbed to 3,000 feet, and then went through a series of spins, loops, and Immelmans. It came in for a three-point landing. Two Hawks winced at the impact on the rubberless rims of the wheels. While the others clustered around Raske to congratulate him, Two Hawks examined the landing gear. The spokes of the wheels were bent a little. After a few more landings, the wheels would have to be replaced. It would be two or more years before synthetic rubber would be available. The chemists were experimenting on the basis of information from Raske, but he had only a vague idea about the making of neoprene from chloroprene.

  The next five days, the German and the American tested out all four prototypes. They also made machine-gun strafing attacks on dummies on the ground, shot rockets, and dropped bombs. Two Hawks noticed that, when he took a plane up, its tank was always only a quarter-full. Raske was taking no chances that his colleague might cut and run for the sea-coast, only 90 miles away.

  The aircraft factory was working in three shifts at top speed. Despite this, the first mass- produced planes would not be turned out for at least a month. Raske and Two Hawks were up in the air every daylight hour training pilots. When ten had enough skill (not in Two Hawks’ estimation), they began to instruct others. The inevitable happened. One plane spun in with both instructor and student. Another stalled during takeoff and was completely demolished, although the pilot suffered only minor injuries.

  Raske was furious. “We’ve only two left. And we’re losing time on those, what with repairs and changing wheels!”

  Two Hawks shrugged, but he was more concerned than he appeared. He had a plan which required one of the planes. If the accidents continued, he would be grounded for a long time.

  One evening, while he was working on a design for auxiliary detachable fuel tanks, Kwasind came into his study.

  “Day after tomorrow,” he said. “The Blodlandish agent says we must be ready when dusk comes. Just before we leave the airfield to come here.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  Kwasind said that the two armored cars which usually accompanied them would be ordered off to deal with a fake emergency. The order would be given by a Blodlandish agent in the uniform of a Kreion (general). After the guards had driven off, Kwasind would kill the soldier that rode with them, and Two Hawks would dispose of the chauffeur. Should the commander of the armored cars refuse to obey the pseudo-kreion’s orders, both cars would be bombed and the survivors shot by agents hidden near the field. However, the Blodlandish hoped this would not be necessary.

  “Where are they taking us?”

  “They’ll drive us through the country at night and we’ll hide out during the day at various stations. When we get to the coast, a boat will take us to Tyrsland (Sweden). Perkunisha hasn’t invaded Tyrsland yet, it isn’t strong enough to worry about. In Tyrsland, we’ll be flown out by a dirigible to Norway. From there, a ship will take us to Blodland.”

  “Sounds risky to me,” Two Hawks said. “But I guess they know what they are doing.”

  Raske greeted him as he came into the hangar just after the second of the morning’s instruction flights. The German had a peculiar smile. Two Hawks wondered if the escape plot had somehow been exposed. He looked around for arresting officers, but everything seemed normal. The workers were putting together two new planes, the parts for which had been rushed through factories and shipped to the field. A group of students was listening to a lecture by one of the recently graduated aviators. The only soldiers in sight were the usual guards. Nevertheless, he patted the derringer stuck inside his belt to reassure himself that it was there. The Itskapintik police had missed it when they had searched him, they were so eager to get to Ilmika. And the Perkunishans had never searched him because they presumed the Itskapintik had done so.

  Raske said, “You once told me you admired the Lady Ilmika. How would you like to have her?”

  “What do you mean?” Two Hawks said. He was not sure that Raske was not trying to trap him, although he did not know how an interest in her could do it.

  “Don’t you know what’s happened to her?”

  Two Hawks shook his head.

  “I don’t suppose anybody told you. She’s in disgrace; she’s in prison. The Kassandras himself offered her her freedom if she would renounce Blodland for allegiance to Perkunisha. The stupid bitch slapped his face! Can you imagine that? Struck the Kassandras in the face and before the entire court! It’s a wonder she wasn’t executed on the spot! Believe me, His Majesty was angry enough to do it.

  “But his wife pleaded for the girl, and the Kassandras merely had her imprisoned. He couldn’t stand being humiliated, however, so he’s been thinking of some suitable punishment for her.”

  Raske grinned and continued, “I remembered how you said she was so beautiful, but you’d never be able to touch her. So, my red-skinned friend, just to show what a high regard I have for you, and also how I take care of my own, I’ve arranged for you to have your heart’s desire. I spoke to the Kassandras this morning, and he was delighted. He believes my plan will provide the abasement and the hurt she deserves. And you’ll be benefited. I wish I were in your shoes. I’d love to have her for myself. Only I wouldn’t dare. The Kassandras’ daughter isn’t very liberal minded.”

  “Are you serious?” Two Hawks said.

  Raske laughed and said, “The Lady Ilmika, niece to the Milka (king) of Blodland and grandniece to the Kassandras, is yours! She’s to be your slave! You have carte blanche with her. I. . . What’s the matter, Zwei Habichten? I thought you’d be delighted. Or are you...?”

&n
bsp; “Overwhelmed is the word,” Two Hawks said. “Only... Never mind. What happens to her if I don’t accept her?”

  “Not accept? You must be out of your mind! Selig! If you are so insane to reject my offer—well, I don’t know. I heard that Ilmika could be placed in solitary until she dies. Or perhaps sent to a military brothel, although I don’t really think the Kassandras would do that to his grandniece. Who knows? Who cares?”

  Two Hawks should not have cared. But he did. Without considering the realities and logic of his situation, he knew he had to take Ilmika in as his slave. This was the only way to save her. Her presence would complicate the escape plan. The Blodlandish agents would be furious. Or would they? She was the daughter of a noble and niece to the ruler of their country. Why wouldn’t they be glad to include her?

  He said, “O.K. Send her over.”

  Raske clapped him on the shoulder and winked. “Tell me how it works out, heh?”

  Two Hawks wanted to hit him but forced himself to unclench his fists and to smile.

  “I might do that.”

  Raske said that they had had enough fun; they must get back to work. Two Hawks would have to handle the aviation school today. Raske had to attend a conference with the head of Ordnance.

  “He’s the most reactionary and stupid man I ever met.” Raske said. “I designed a clip-loaded carbine which will give the infantryman ten times the firepower he now has. Do you think that pighead will accept it? No, he says the common soldier will misuse it; he’ll spray the bullets instead of taking careful aim. The carbine will waste ammunition.

  “However, that isn’t his only reason for not wanting my carbine! Did you know that the gatling gun crews are all officers? No noncoms or privates are allowed to handle a gatling except in extreme emergencies. This ridiculous rule is based on what happened 30 years ago. When Perkunisha was defeated, part of the army and a great number of workers, serfs, and slaves revolted. The uprising was stamped out, but ever since then the aristocracy has made sure the commoner doesn’t get his hands on powerful weapons. The rule might have been necessary at one time, but now it’s absurd! The swine!”