King David's Spaceship (codominion) Page 8

  “It should be fairly obvious to them that we’re far too primitive to be a threat to the Empire—”

  “Or more to the point, to their files. And their careers,” Dougal said. “It’s fortunate that they didn’t assign this task to that young blabbermouth from the tavern.”

  “Yes. This Midshipman Landry is competent enough, but he’s never been on Makassar. I’d have thought they’d put one of the chaps who’s been there on this—”

  “They can’t spare anyone higher-ranking than a midshipman,” Dougal said. “That boy, Lieutenant Jefferson, is supposed to be quite competent.”

  “We must have seen him on an off night,” MacKinnie said.

  “Possibly. At any event, they have him working at the

  University, reading our engineering textbooks, and looking at the research laboratories.”

  MacKinnie frowned. “Are they suspicious? And of what?”

  “I do not know. He says he is part of a survey to determine what Prince Samual’s World needs. Certainly there are enough of them looking in odd places, but we know more about Jefferson than the others. He has become friendly with the daughter of one of King David’s officials, and they report his activities to me. So far he has not again mentioned Makassar, but I’ll be happier with you away.”

  “Yes. And speaking of that, I’d best be leaving for the harbor,” MacKinnie said.

  “Nervous?”

  “A bit.”

  “You’ve done all you can.”

  “Sure,” MacKinnie said. “And that’s little enough. God knows how I’m going to bring home those books.”

  “Or whatever they are.”

  “Yes. Or whatever they are.” He shrugged. “One thing at a time. Take what comes and do what you can.” And that, Nathan thought, was what I was told by my tac officer back in the Academy. An Academy that doesn’t exist…

  “You won’t fail us.” Dougal hesitated a moment, then put out his hand. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I expect I’ll need it.”

  * * *

  The merchant landing boat was ugly, a squat, winged cylinder nothing like the slim Navy landing ship that floated next to the main pier of the Imperial docks. The boat’s gangway was a slice out of one side which lowered to match the height of the dock. The compartment inside was bare steel.

  “Built to lift mass,” Landry explained as they boarded.

  “There’s no need to maneuver in atmosphere. Not like a Navy boat.”

  The others didn’t answer, although MacLean listened with evident interest to every word Landry said. They went down a short corridor to a compartment filled with padded seats. “Find a place,” Landry said. “I’ll help you strap in.”

  “Why the straps?” Longway asked. “If this falls, they won’t help much, will they?”

  “Not a lot,” Landry admitted. “But these boats are quite serviceable. Not much happens to them.”

  “I hope not,” Mary Graham said. “I — where are the Traders?”

  “They lifted off hours ago,” Landry said. “With their own cargo. Not as big a load as we’re carrying—”

  MacKinnie could draw his own conclusions from that, and he didn’t much like them. There didn’t seem to be much to do about the situation, though. And at least Landry was aboard …

  There were warning tones from somewhere, three repeated notes, then a series of shorter tones that blended with a sudden roar from behind them. The landing boat lurched and began to move across the water.

  “What pushes this?” Kleinst asked.

  “Steam,” Landry said. “Distilled water flows through a nuclear heat source—”

  “Nuclear?” MacLean asked.

  “Sorry,” Landry mumbled. “It would take too long to explain. I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you anyway-”

  “The Empire is our ally,” Mary Graham said. “Why can’t you tell us?”

  “A good question, freelady,” Landry said. “I don’t really know the answer. But I have my orders … lean back, here we go.”

  The acceleration increased suddenly, and they were pressed back into their couches until they weighed far too much. MacKinnie gritted his teeth and fought to stay calm. He couldn’t see out but he was certain they were flying now, the first natives of Prince Samual’s World to fly in a heavier-than-air machine for centuries. Nathan glanced across the aisle toward Mary Graham. She gripped the chair arms unconsciously, but there was a set smile on her lips. MacKinnie couldn’t see any of the others.

  The feeling of too much weight went on for a long time. MacKinnie estimated it at about twice normal; uncomfortable but not painful. He had carried companions on his back for much longer. But he wished it would stop.

  When the engines quit, the silence was terrifying. Worse yet was the sensation of falling.

  Mary Graham was the first to speak. Her voice was quite calm. “The engines have quit. Are we going to crash?”

  There was a confused babble from behind, and one of the guards shouted “Goddam, we are falling!”

  MacKinnie grimly faced death, reviewing the silly prayers the chaplains said over the dying. Somehow they did not seem silly at all.

  “No, no,” Landry protested. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. We are in orbit. The sensation of falling is natural, but it’s false. In fact, we can’t fall. Without power we’d never leave this orbit, because we’re falling around the planet — oh, hell, I don’t expect you to understand. But we’re quite safe.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Longway said grimly. “But you might have told us—”

  The incident served to reassure MacKinnie about Kleinst. The young scholar had evidently known they were safe, but made no move to assure the others and thus break his cover as social historian. MacKinnie did not care for weaklings, but the young man seemed to have common sense as well as educated intelligence.

  The landing boat’s engines started again, this time far more gently than before. For nearly an hour they experienced accelerations, now forward, now sideways, then finally there was a resounding clang, followed by other sounds. Midshipman Landry glanced at his pocket computer. “Good time,” he said. “Couldn’t have matched up quicker myself.”

  “Do you pilot these craft?” MacLean asked. “Your pardon, but you seem young for such a task. It must be very demanding.”

  MacKinnie listened with amusement. From his interviews with MacLean he knew what an effort MacLean must have made to be polite to a mere midshipman.

  “I have been a qualified landing-craft pilot for nearly a standard year,” Landry answered proudly. He glanced at Mary Graham as if seeking approval. She smiled. “It’s not that difficult,” Landry continued. “The computers do most of the work. The fact is, we couldn’t fly these ships without them.”

  The compartment door opened and two men in coveralls came inside. One wore gold piping on his sleeves, and both were dark men, with eyes that seemed to slant. There were no orientals on Prince Samual’s World, and MacKinnie and the others stared at the crewmen.

  “My name is Taka,” one of the crewmen said. He floated through the compartment, not touching the decks, and began loosening the straps holding MacKinnie in his seat. When they had everyone loose they gestured toward the opening.

  Mary Graham stared openly at the newcomers, but MacKinnie couldn’t tell if it were their strange eyes or the way they levitated through the compartment that interested her. Kleinst had a bored look, but under it MacKinnie thought he detected keen interest. The pale young scholar seemed relaxed, but whenever the crewmen spoke he tensed slightly.

  “Come aboard,” Landry said. “We should not waste time…”

  They floated gently through the connecting passageways between the landing craft and the main ship, gingerly following the towlines the ship’s officers had strung for them, everyone quiet and awed by the experience. We’ve left our world, MacKinnie thought. And I’m supposed to bring back the knowledge so we can build one of these. He shook his head griml
y. The more he saw of the ships, the more he was convinced that they had taken on an impossible task.

  Their staterooms proved to be minuscule cubicles, sparsely furnished at first sight, but when buttons were touched, various utilities such as beds and tables unfolded from the walls. MacKinnie sat in a chair and held himself in it while he looked at the various gadgets, but learned nothing.

  Weight slowly returned.

  A ship’s officer led him into the lounge, where some of the others were already assembled. The room was completely alien to MacKinnie. It was splendidly furnished, but in addition to couches, chairs, and tables on the deck beneath him, one large, circular wall was also covered with carpeting and furniture, all bolted into place. The wall was not a complete disc, for a large central tube ran through it well over Nathan’s head. More strange than the double furniture was the deck, which curved up both in front of him and behind him, yet, when he walked around it, always felt as if it were down. After a few strides, he looked back to see that where he had been was now well above him. A few more steps brought him around the central column “overhead” to reveal Renaldi apparently hanging from the ceiling, relaxing in a large chair, a drink in his hand.

  “Ah, Trader MacKinnie, please be seated. The others will be here shortly.” Renaldi sipped his drink. “Pleasant to have weight again, is it not?”

  “Yes.” MacKinnie sat, again noting the eerie sensations in his inner ears whenever he made a sudden movement. “How have you accomplished this, uh, giving us weight?”

  Renaldi looked startled for a moment, then smiled. “You truly don’t know, do you? I’ll wait until the others arrive and explain. Have a drink, Trader. We can only enjoy this for another hour before the captain gets under way, and we will all have to be in our staterooms for the transition.”

  MacLean, Longway, Kleinst, and Mary Graham joined them within moments. Midshipman Landry arrived a few minutes later, and explained that the guards and their leader were quartered on another deck with a lounge of their own. When all were seated, Renaldi told Landry, “The Trader is curious about our weight, Midshipman. Surely the Empire will not fall if we explain it to our guests?”

  “No, of course not, Trader,” Landry said. “You see, gentlemen and freelady, the captain has caused the ship to rotate about its long axis. Thus, you are thrown toward the outside of the ship. When we begin our voyage, however, the ship will accelerate for long periods of time, and the rotation will cease. While we accelerate, you will feel weight, but ‘down’ will be that deck in front of you, and this deck will become a wall.” The boy paused for a moment, then said suddenly, “If you have never been off-world, you have never seen your own planet. There are ports at that bulkhead there; allow me to open them for you.”

  Before any of the others could rise, Kleinst had charged across the deck, eagerly waiting until the port was uncovered. With a shrug, Landry uncovered several more, and the others took turns looking out. No one had the heart to remove Kleinst from his post.

  They saw Prince Samual’s World, although it did not appear to them as a sphere, as the orbit was not that high. Although it was partly obscured by clouds, they could see much of the great mass of North Continent, a portion of the Major Sea, and several of the larger islands of the Archipelago. Except for the fleecy clouds, it looked exactly like globes and maps they had studied in school. The world below them appeared to be moving across their field of vision, however, and after it passed they would see the black of space, stars shining more brightly than they had ever believed possible.

  For long moments there was no conversation. Finally, slowly, one by one they filed back to their seats, except for Kleinst, who stayed at the port until they were ushered to their staterooms for the beginning of the voyage.

  * * *

  MacKinnie was not allowed off the lounge deck except to go down a ladder to the deck below where Stark and the guards were quartered. His troops had far less luxurious quarters than his own, but somewhat more open space, and Hal was using the time to best advantage, training the men in unarmed combat, and experimenting with swords and shields- from their personal baggage. The men seemed cheerful enough, and MacKinnie ordered a small daily ration of brandy for each man to relieve the monotony. He returned to his own quarters for the same prescription.

  The days flowed by with a monotonous quality, relieved by their constant efforts to master the language of Makassar. MacKinnie and MacLean sent for wooden swords and put in an hour of practice daily, resulting both in bruises on their persons, and considerable respect for each other. They also trained with their men.

  Longway and Mary Graham seemed to have a knack for languages, particularly the Academician, who passed from the main dialects to lesser ones he found in supplementary sections of the loose-leaved books the Imperial Navy had supplied. They were informed that the books would be collected before they made planetfall, and MacKinnie held his breath at the mention, but nothing else was said about them.

  Eleven days out from Samual, they were again strapped into their chairs in their staterooms, experiencing another hour of weightlessness before normal weight returned. By constant pestering of Landry whenever the boy joined them, MacKinnie induced him to tell them that during the first part of the journey they had accelerated, and were now decelerating in order to enter faster-than-light travel. When he received only quizzical looks from the others. Landry explained further.

  “There’s two kinds of drive, normal space and hyperspace. In normal space, the fusion drive works into a Langston Field releasing photons which propel the ship. Never mind, I’m not allowed to explain it to you anyway. But this pushes the ship right along, and we experience acceleration from it. The hyperspace drive works on a different principle. It works along the pseudo-nuclear force path between two stars. I don’t suppose that means anything to you. There are force paths between the stars similar to the forces that hold atomic particles together. Unlike the atomic forces which fade off rapidly in an exponential relation to distance — oh, hell, that doesn’t tell you anything either. What’s important is that the drive won’t work if you’re near a sun or a planetary body. You have to get to the precise Alderson point to get into hyperspace. Otherwise nothing happens when you turn on the drive. Navy ships have better equipment for locating Alderson points, so they don’t decelerate as much as a merchant ship. Eventually we’ll arrive at the right place and we can get into the hyperspace path between stars. In there we can go faster than light.”

  Landry glanced about him, and Kleinst quickly assumed the blank stare typical of the others. The midshipman scratched his head, muttered that that was all he was allowed to say anyway, and asked for another drink. MacKinnie noted that the boy would usually have exactly three drinks, and would always leave their company as soon as he had consumed the third one. He also noticed that the midshipman seemed to be a great deal more talkative when Mary Graham was present.

  Days were measured by the ship’s clocks, which were geared to a standard day somewhat shorter than that of

  Prince Samual’s World, as Samual’s years were slightly shorter than those of Earth. MacKinnie noted that the Imperials tended to use many expressions and physical devices traditional from Earth.

  On the twenty-second day, they were once again warned to go to their cabins, and later each was personally inspected by Landry. “Don’t panic, no matter what you think you see or hear,” he warned each. “The Alderson drive affects different people different ways. It’s very usual to feel disoriented. Just be calm and everything’ll be all right.”

  An hour after the boy left them, MacKinnie was in a cold sweat, waiting with nothing to do. He hoped that the others would remember their instructions. As he inspected his mechanical watch for the twentieth time, there was a strong thrumming sound which seemed to permeate the ship. This went on for several minutes, then there was an imperceptible lurch, as if intolerable acceleration had been applied for a time so short that it had no chance to affect them.

 
At once, Nathan was aware of a sensation of intolerable wrongness. He looked at the walls and other now-familiar objects, and they seemed the same in every detail, yet somehow different. Strange sensations crawled across his scalp. The thrumming sound was gone, but something of it lingered, and it did not sound like anything he had ever heard before.

  Then there was a moment of silence. It was too brief to be completely perceived, but it seemed to be a silence which had a tangible quality, a deadening effect that sucked up sound, and perhaps heat and light and everything else. Then there was the sound again, which rose and died away, and after that weight returned, oriented toward the circular section which MacKinnie had come to think of as the walls of his cabin. With weight, his universe returned almost to normal, although somewhere inside his brain there was a tiny terrified awareness that everything was wrong.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MAKASSAR

  They were in a new star system. MacKinnie tried to comprehend that, but it was impossible to believe. Yet it must be true. The stars outside the ship were subtly different, some constellations remaining as before, but others altered.

  The journey to Makassar took another twenty-four days, with the transition from acceleration to deceleration taking place in the middle of the night. They were gathered in the main lounge, with Stark acting as a serving man, on the “afternoon” of the last day, when the hatch opened and they were joined by Landry and Renaldi.

  “We have nearly arrived, gentlemen,” Renaldi announced importantly. “I have requested Midshipman Landry to allow you to see the object of all your attention, and he has graciously consented. It will be visible through the ports over there.” As Renaldi spoke, Landry removed the locks from the observation ports and opened them.

  Makassar was a tiny ball, hanging in the dark of space. The most prominent feature, easily visible even from this distance, was a pair of enormous ice caps. Much of the world between them was water, with a single continent, mostly in the Southern Hemisphere, swimming westward like an enormous whale. Two large islands, almost continental in size, hung above it in the Northern Hemisphere, and the shallow seas were dotted with smaller islands. There were two distinct colors to the seas where the sun shone upon them, and Kleinst remarked that it must be due to a dramatic difference in depth. Deep water was mostly in the Northern Hemisphere, with the continent surrounded by the pale blue marking much shallower depths.