by Ed Hurst
Abruptly George turned to him. “How soon can you be ready to sail north?”
Part 3 - The Recruiters
Chapter 26: Support
Fortis laughed. “Since when does my readiness have anything to do with it?”
George put on his comical pained look. “My dear Doctor Plimick, you are the ultimate VIP Guest on the entire planet! No one would dare to tell you what to do.”
Fortis joined the charade. “No, of course not!” Then with a fake growl, “No one tells me anything. I’m just expected to jump through whatever hoops are held before me.”
They both laughed out loud. Coming around the edge of one hill, they were in sight of the forest. Fortis turned to ask, “Why are we coming here....” His voice trailed off because George, still grinning hugely, had already pointed to a small awning at the edge of the trees.
Two figures rose at their approach. To his utter delight, Fortis recognized the Farrell twins. Fortis noticed first the off-white waistbands. Behind the right shoulder of each was the handle of a sword. Were all the good guys lefties on Misty? They wore something which was a cross between cape and cloak, with the familiar forest pattern, but lined in a dark shade of purple. No headbands, but Fortis spotted behind them droopy brimmed forest hats perched atop longbows, slightly larger and heavier than the one George typically carried, leaning against the trees. Their tunics were a shade of brown well matched to the trunks of the trees.
There were hearty greetings, hugs and handshakes. As usual, the boys said little, but glowed like the sun. Fortis grinned widely. “What a joy to see you two! What brings you here?”
George answered for them. “They must have enjoyed escorting us before, because when I mentioned in a message we were taking another journey, they came right away, even hiring coursers.” Fortis glanced around behind them. Sure enough, a pair of the beasts stood tied at the edge of the forest road. The saddlebags indicated preparations for a long journey.
Chapter 27: Floating Foundations
They took a ferry, not unlike the ship which brought Fortis to Johnston Island, out to deeper waters. There was anchored a very substantial ship, three slender hulls closed like pontoons, but much larger. There were three decks stacked, each smaller than the one below it. The bottom was enclosed, sitting very near water level, the second with a full circle balcony, and on the third a small cabin sat in the middle of several pieces of equipment. The sails were extensive, and complicated beyond anything Fortis had ever seen. There was a boarding deck on the stern, almost like a floating wharf low to the sea.
Aside from the twin bodyguards, George had his wife. She was a shy woman, but obviously fully in charge of whatever it was she decided was her duty. Fortis had noticed women dressed somewhat as echoes of their men, but the subtle clues of rank and status were hardly so uniform. There were women who wore garments reflecting official positions in the sheikh’s service, and a handful among the faculty at the academy, none of whom taught religion. Most women worked a bit in the thriving barter markets which seemed to meet just about anywhere. Nothing Fortis saw or heard indicated oppression; it seemed women were disinterested in doing work commonly done by men.
George introduced his wife as Lisa, and she bowed to Fortis. Thereafter, she was less obtrusive than the twins.
They were given a suite on the middle deck, cozy rooms equipped with the hammocks Fortis loved. There were other passengers, but Fortis hardly saw them at first. George brought out his rolled up sheet computer, and showed Fortis the map of their planned itinerary. North and west to Nadul Island (George mentioned the clan was from Asian nations on Terra), west farther to a huge, almost continent sized Hollister Land, and on and on. Mostly larger islands, a couple of clans sharing a small continent here and there, zig-zagging up to the first of three continents which included the equatorial desert belt. This larger ship was able to travel a good bit faster, both because of design and more efficient use of wind power, but also because winds were stronger in the main and more predictable as they went farther north.
On this retrograde spinning world, where the feeble light of Dalorius rose in the west and faded into the east, so the prevailing winds were also easterly. Thus, their journey would generally circle Misty with the winds, mostly heading west. They hoped to see all 38 clans within two years of travel.
Fortis was reminded the topography varied little on Misty. Rather shallow oceans, where keels were almost useless, but without storms it hardly mattered. Instead, they might drop what George called “underwater sails” – thin, curved plank panels to catch strong currents when they were favorable and serving as brakes when it was necessary to slow the ship. The waves never seemed more than a half-meter, and rarely that. The islands and continents were relatively flat, with hills seldom rising more than five meters. The few which did were barren above that elevation. Forests always at the lowest elevations, it was grassland everywhere else. Changing latitude would bring a faint difference in temperatures, but otherwise affected only the relative distribution of deciduous and needle-bearing trees, the latter fading in numbers and in size as they came closer to the equator.
Fortis and George often stepped out on the boarding deck, where the noise of the sails and wind in general was much reduced. There was a stairway running from the back corner of the second deck down to one side of the platform. They would bring folding chairs and large mugs of tea. The ship was very stable, with only rare tiny sprays splashing them.
“Tell me about body armor,” Fortis asked. “I haven’t seen any.”
“Because you don’t recognize it,” George grinned. “The same variable stiffness we apply to fabrics and skins for other purposes can be enhanced for body armor. To make it truly wearable and effective, it requires a very expensive process so it remains moderately stiff, but hardens instantly on impact. Generally, only a sheikh can afford it, and very little can be made, so there’s always a dire shortage compared to requests. Johnston’s bodyguard wore vests of it, as do all such troops. Rangers can get it issued for special operations.” He hooked a thumb back toward the ship, “The boys have vests with small sections of it.”
“You don’t wear any.” Fortis never saw such on George.
George sipped his tea, silent for just a moment. “I could.” There was more thoughtful silence. “I’m altogether certain God would rather I didn’t.”
“A preference for the armor of God, mentioned in the Book?”
“Exactly,” George smiled. “Your teachers did a good job.”
“I had no trouble absorbing the symbolism, but everything I thought I knew already turned out to be pretty silly. I made my own copy of the Book, though,” holding up his spooler.
“You can’t afford to get wrapped up in cerebral questions. The language of Heaven is parabolic, the logic is symbolic, the narrative is not explanatory, but mostly indicative.” George leaned back and closed his eyes.
“And the divine economy is a gift economy; sacrifice is the currency,” Fortis noted, as he stared down into the sea.
George rolled his head to one side and opened his eyes, looking at Fortis. “We sincerely wish we could make that work here in the real world. What we do have emulates it as much as possible. We don’t have anything which serves as money, so we have had to be very careful about enforcing the barter provisions. Even in a world where most economic activity is food or resource extraction, it would be all too easy for someone to amass wealth and power. The Council tends to be rather brutal about that, since it is the primary route to destruction.”
“So you believe there is a cabal which seeks ways around that.”
George sat up, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “Naturally, as has always been the case here since the beginning, though it includes other things.” Staring out to sea, “They keep resurrecting talk of centralization and democracy.”
“On most every world out there in the galaxy,” Fortis said, sweeping his hand skyward, “you would think there was something sacred about giving
every breathing a soul a direct or indirect voice in government. Yet it seems to lead consistently to cycles of war and oppression.”
“Is that taught in your former university, or is that one of your brilliant intuitions?” George smiled slyly.
“They don’t teach it, but just about anyone with a hint of independent thinking can see it.” Fortis grinned a bit. “I got in trouble for daring to say it, once. Then a short time later was told in private I was right, but not to say it. Something about professional doctrine.”
“Good. To question is the answer.” George set his empty mug in the rest made for it on the side of the chair. “To question all human declarations is the ultimate answer to living among humans,” he expanded.
After a few moments, he continued. “We believe God’s Book assumes mankind living in the tribal setting. In a pluralistic society attempting to operate by democratic assumptions, we say government is the monopoly on the use of force. If your government doesn’t have a monopoly, then it’s not the real government, or at least not the only one. Authority is, fundamentally, a threat of force. That it may be no one has any interest in defying it is not the point. Reducing the necessity of even referring to that threat is as good as it gets, because any system which fails to account for the Fall is broken from the start.”
Fortis was all seriousness. “Had not God Himself invaded my soul, I would still be choking on that concept.”
George nodded sagely. “You and all the rest of the humanity. The paradox of the Fall is no one believes they are fallen until they find the remedy. None of us pretends to know how that invasion from God comes about, because the only consistent factor is His personal whim. We can predict most people come to it by embracing the demands of God’s Laws, the inherent call for repentance. But that assumes a mostly mundane form of logic. With those already mystical, it is utterly random.”
“As is fitting for what mysticism represents.” Fortis agreed with a smile.
“Indeed, the readiness to receive truth on an entirely different basis from mere human reasoning. True mystics come to faith more readily than anyone else.”
After a few minutes of silence, Fortis remarked, “I was completely surprised how that part of me already knew what I was being taught. It was as if my intellect was simply recognizing something already there, buried beneath the surface. Not every detail, but the general shape of the ideas. I started with a very amorphous view of God maybe as a person, and ended up with a very strong image, rather like a Galactic Sheikh.”
“Truth makes its own path,” George affirmed.
A crewman leaned over the railing above and invited them to dinner.
Chapter 28: No Secrets
As with all things on Misty, it amused Fortis the odd mixture of simplicity and complexity which characterized the small dining room. While the wood was always the finest quality, the design of things might be entirely rustic. Eating was indeed a peaceful social occasion, but the furniture was not at all like the luxurious dining settings on other planets. It was entirely functional, with mere hints of ceremonial decoration at most. The Johnston clan banner was displayed on one wall, but there was nothing else to indicate who was sponsoring the voyage, unless you spotted the banner fluttering in the top of the sails. The fabrics on the chairs were rather drab moderate gray, as were most such chairs Fortis had seen. The table settings were simple, a mixture of wood and ceramic. However, the food was extraordinary.
Fortis remarked, “So this follows the pattern for mass space travel. When there’s little to do, food makes the voyage.”
“Crews are easier to get and train if they gain at least some advantage for leaving the comforts of home. What little culinary efforts exist on Misty are aimed mostly for ocean travel,” George explained. He turned at the entrance of someone through the side door and stood quickly.
Fortis took it as a signal and rose, too. A man of obvious importance quickly announced, “Please, be seated. I apologize to you all for being late.” Before taking his seat, he stopped near George, who had naturally remained standing to greet him.
“Captain, it’s good to see you again.” He bowed from the shoulders toward the somewhat younger man, and then they shook hands. He presented Fortis, who copied the bow. The captain hurried around the table to an empty place in the center. He sat, then George, with Fortis following. He realized this was the usual simple ceremony which opened the working relationship between men of rank, after which very little ceremony was observed again. In this case, the man’s name was immaterial.
“I was just complementing your chef, Captain.” Fortis took a bite with obvious relish.
“I’ll be sure to let her know. My wife seldom disappoints anyone with her cooking.” Then he grinned and winked at George.
Fortis chuckled, then swallowed. “Compact crew.”
“They are all family – literally,” George observed.
Fortis nodded. “I’m beginning to understand how well that works. The sheikh’s retainers are cousins, nephews, even his own children. The faculty at the academy isn’t all related that closely, but the other staff was always family of someone else there. The rest of the galaxy calls it ‘nepotism,’ but here it’s an essential element of life. It’s marvelously stable, given no one here wears an implant to control any part of their behavior.”
The Captain smiled. “Frankly, we pity you here being so alone.”
Fortis paused, then, “I doubt many of my relatives would be so comfortable, but I consider myself greatly blessed. I also doubt I’ll ever be able to leave, family or not.”
“I take it you never married, then?” the Captain inquired.
“No, Sir. It simply never presented itself. Perhaps I need a course in romance, too.” He chuckled at the thought, as did the Captain.
George interjected, “Romance in that sense we understand, but all marriages are arranged on Misty. That shouldn’t surprise you. Nor should it surprise you if someone offers you their daughter, sister or other close relative as wife.”
“Indeed,” the Captain agreed. “Given the political situation, at least a half-dozen offers will be made during this journey. Several clans are suffering some disadvantage right now, and latching onto your fame and presumed influence would serve them well.”
Fortis blushed. “I have little measure of my influence right now, so ‘presumed’ is the right word.”
“Nor do we know,” the Captain affirmed. “I don’t want to deceive you, Fortis. You are certainly going to need those bodyguards in some places, along with your own fighting skills, such as they may be. For once, I fear for the safety of my crew. This business of restarting interstellar trade is a volatile issue, for more reasons than one.”
Fortis looked at George, hoping to gauge how much he was at liberty to discuss. George saved him the trouble. “The Captain was chosen by the Sheikh himself for his wisdom and discretion, along with his expertise in the politics of this planet.” To the Captain, “We have yet to identify the ranger captain who troubled us when I brought Fortis to Johnston Island.”
The Captain nodded, then stared at his plate for a moment, lost in thought.
George went on, “Having such skill with a glider kite, the resources to construct and fuel a small warm air pocket – it all adds up to an extensive organization. It would be hard to imagine they have that much pull with any sheikh’s court. We are left wondering if they have managed to construct their own production facilities hidden somewhere.”
“Well, the recruiting will be a great cover, all the more so since it’s also a genuine mission in itself.” The Captain rose, signaling them to stay seated.
Fortis realized the man had eaten rather quickly, though with good table manners. Glancing around, he decided if anyone overheard, it was the Captain’s choice whom to trust. Then again, George kept saying transparency was the first working assumption. So far, they had only been sneaky on two items – keeping his face hidden in the village and trying to depart quietly before dawn.
“Those who walk in the light have little to hide.” George was intuiting his thoughts, again.
“And I’m altogether uncomfortable with hiding, anyway,” Fortis noted.
“Consider this,” George turned to face him. “The Council of Sheikhs already knows more about this than you and I. They all have too much to lose by hiding participation. And again, the biggest threat is not the rogue rangers and their resources. The only real problem there is resource waste which may be costing someone who can’t afford it. Think of it as an illegitimate tax. But the greatest threat is from the ideas long ago rejected by our founders. Democracy is a cancer, based on lies. So is centralized government.”
Fortis understood, having seen it up close. “So when you warned me about leaving and saying something destructive to Misty, you had in mind the concern I might send back someone who would want to bring such ‘enlightened’ ideas here.”
George smiled. “We would gladly allow anyone to depart who felt life could be better under any other system. Exporting those who feel alienated here is by far the better mercy, as is importing those who can’t feel at home anywhere else. We hope we can arrange such things.” Then his face showed deep sorrow, “But no one breathing anywhere in human space as any business fixing something here which isn’t broken. Mankind had plenty of time to show off how well it works – and it doesn’t. When we left Terra, it was past time to return to ancient truths. We can’t force the dissenters here to see the light if they refuse to open their eyes, but we also can’t afford to let them spread that darkness to others.”
“So remaining transparent is going to expose the lies.” Fortis believed it, and wanted to see more of it in action, but without seeing too much action of the other kind.
George had that glow, again. “Our Creator is always watching. He can make of this anything which suits His whims. But in general, His promise is to back His own revelation. If we conduct ourselves accordingly on this mission, we have every reason to expect things to go well, even if sometimes harrowing.”