The Far Side (48 page)

Melek could only shrug.  How do you explain to someone from far away that his people revered a tree found in high rocky places that had yellow wood and blended in with the sandstone found here in the northern reaches of the Finger, and that if you could reach the lowest branch, you were safe from dralka and most of the smaller predators.  That the Yellow Branch, the golden bough, was considered a place of safety and refuge, and when you went to sea you needed all of that you could get.

* * *

The next morning they assembled, a dozen of them on the deck of the ship.  Andie had arranged for two row galleys to pull them southwards, and in short order the ship began to move away from the dock.  It wasn’t, Melek thought, Andie’s finest moment, no matter how much she sniffed at her critics.

Finally she called them all together and had Ezra translating.  “None of you trust me, and I wish that wasn’t so -- because if you don’t trust me, you should ask me why I should trust you?  You could also ask yourselves when was the last time I led you astray?

“Still, I made a promise, and even if you are all idiots, I will deliver on my promise.”

She had Ezra explaining about how ships sailing into the wind needed a lot of “sea room” she called it.  Then she had two stout men cast off the tow lines to the galleys who quickly pulled away.  Men went to hoist the sail on Andie’s command, and a few moments later a puff of wind filled the sail.

It made Melek dizzy, after a few seconds.  He felt the wind on his face, he saw the sea next to the ship, and he saw which way the ship was heading.  It made absolutely no sense.  Nothing of what he saw seemed real.  It made him dizzy.

Slowly, Andie made progress explaining to them.  The wind blew one way, the water resisted another, and the ship moved in another direction.  No matter how incredible it seemed, ten minutes later the ship was headed south, pushed by a wind that came from the southwest, something Melek couldn’t have imagined as possible, and to the astonishment of the city councilors, Collum, Melek and the ship’s master.

The ship shifted and started west.  Melek’s entire being shouted that it wasn’t possible, but the ship didn’t seem to care.  The fourth time the ship changed direction, he’d thought he’d figured it out.  He went to Andie, frustrated that he still had to talk through Ezra, although Andie and Kris both were making more of an attempt to learn Arvalan.  “You change course ninety degrees, even though the wind doesn’t change that much.”

“Yes,” he was told.  “Watch this!”

Andie went to the men who were ready to deal with the ropes guiding the sail and signed what she wanted.  Then she went to the tiller and took it from the sailor.  She changed course again, when they were well to the southeast of the town, turning back towards the city.

She spent about twenty minutes adjusting the tiller and having the men adjust the sail, until finally she pronounced herself satisfied.  Melek had no idea what was special, but Andie pointed towards Arvala and the ship’s master exclaimed in consternation.

After that the ship’s master bombarded Andie with questions far beyond Ezra’s ability to translate.  After five minutes of growing frustration, Melek broke in.  “What is it, Ged?  What are you trying to ask?”

“Don’t you see?”

“No,” Melek said patiently, “I’m afraid I don’t.”

The ship’s master raised his hand and pointed at the city, approaching rapidly.  “We drive straight for the city.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Before, we went where the wind blew us, Melek!  If we went too far west, we’d have to lower the sail and row back eastwards.  It was very slow and exhausting work.  But now!  Now we go straight as an arrow towards the city!  This is stupendous, Melek!  I don’t know what you paid her for this knowledge, but unless you gave her Arvala, you cheated her.”

“I don’t believe she sees it that way,” Melek admitted.  He translated the comment for Ezra who agreed.

“What the captain sees as a treasure beyond measure is something her father taught her when she was sixteen, and she sailed for a few months and got bored with it.”  Ezra spoke more to Melek about some other things.

“Our people have had longer to learn things and there are many, many more of us,” Ezra told Melek.  “To be honest, when we get home, some will criticize us for telling you these things.  Where we are from, some societies fall apart when they are given too much too quickly.

“However, it doesn’t always happen.  One of our allies today was once very primitive, one hundred and fifty years ago -- they weren’t that much different, in fact, than you are now.  They took to the learning that was required, they took care to deal with the dislocations that were caused by the changes.  Fifty years later they were a rival, and after a hundred years they thought they had to fight us for dominion.  They attacked us without warning and killed a very great many of my people.

“In the war that followed, Melek, terrible things were done on both sides, but in the end, we withheld their utter destruction.  It was something we could have stretched out our hands and done to them.  But we’d only fought because we were attacked and we remembered that in the end.  Now they are one of our best allies -- except in trade, where we compete a great deal!”

“You will get in trouble when you get home?” Melek asked.

“I suspect so.  About the only thing that would have stopped our friends from coming for us would have been the authorities.  I have no idea why, but that has to be what has happened.”

“If there is anything I can tell them... assuming the King doesn’t decide I’ve gone too far myself, Ezra, I will willingly tell them.”

The ship’s master was staring at the single, triangular sail and the way it was hung so that it could swivel through about one hundred and twenty degrees.  Melek smiled to himself.  Well, here was one more person who could be counted on to sing the praises of Andie and her ship that could sail into the wind, and who had already said that whatever they had paid Andie wasn’t enough.

One of the crewmen joined the captain and spoke to him for a few minutes.  Melek couldn’t hear him, but it was just a minor distraction.  The wind on his face, the sea rushing past a few feet away was a heady drink.

Behind him he heard Andie tell Ezra something, and then Ezra shouted simple instructions to the men on the sails, and the ship once again changed course.  Melek looked around and could see no reason to change course -- they were still headed into the harbor.

He turned to Ezra and waved at the new course.  Andie laughed and said something to Ezra and Ezra shrugged helplessly to Melek.  “Andie says now she has proved that she hasn’t forgotten how to trim the sails.  Now, she says, it is time for your ship’s master to learn.  The best way to learn is to do it yourself.”

Melek nodded, unsure though what the master would say.  The master had, in fact, already come to stand next to the tiller and was watching everything intently.  Melek readied himself to try to politely explain things, but the master spoke first.  “Captain Melek, Adnar was telling me something interesting.”

“And that would be?”

“Barzan is a fisherman with two sons, and a powerful thirst for beer -- so these days his sons fish and he drinks.  Yesterday, as soon as the dralka left, Adnar says he saw the brothers put to sea in their fishing boat.

“He thought they were having trouble with their sail, since the sail had unfurled only half way, a diagonal like our sail now.  He didn’t think any of it, as sails do hang up like that from time to time.”

Melek nodded like he knew what the other was talking about, even if he didn’t.

“Adnar says he didn’t really think about it, but their heading wasn’t as westerly as it should have been.  It was only when we’ve been sailing like this for a while that he remembered.  It could be nothing...”

Melek thought for a moment, and Ezra watched, not entirely sure what had been said, but waiting patiently.  Melek hated thinking about something like that, but what are you supposed to think once you’ve seen one bit of treason?

He smiled at the ship’s master.  “Right now, Master Ged, Andie expects you to take over the sails and the tiller and see if you can trim the sails to once again head for Arvala.”

The man’s eyes lit, thoughts of incipient treason gone from his head.

He listened carefully as Andie explained in general and let him slowly get the feel for the push of wind, sail and water on their course.

Even Melek could feel the ship respond to slight changes in course.  It was like a living thing, responding to suggestions and hints.  It was a profound experience, and for the first time he had some appreciation of why men so loved the sea.

It took the master a lot longer to get on the proper course, but finally they were once again heading straight for the city.  The smile on the Ged’s face told Melek that the man was enjoying pure bliss.

Melek took a few steps to Ezra.  “When we get to shore, I will tell the master and his crew that they are to spend until sundown on the ship, learning from Andie.  I will post a guard on the dock to make sure none leaves.  Please ask Andie to keep them entertained for an hour or so.”

“Is there a problem?”

“I hope not, but one of the sailors thinks he saw another ship that could sail into the wind leave the city yesterday after the dralka flew over.  If it was such a ship, then my kingdom faces a terrible danger.  It could be that, even now, Tengri ships are headed this way in great numbers and that there are those here in Arvala waiting to deliver us to their chains.”

“Do what you must, my friend.  We will do our part!” Ezra told him.

Fifteen more minutes and they were being moored, and Andie called everyone together first to ask questions and have them answered, for comments and suggestions and for what she called “Advanced Sailing 201.”  Melek wasn’t sure what the numbers meant, but both Kris and Ezra hadn’t seemed curious.

As for himself, he told the dock watch to keep everyone on the ship, no matter what, and then he headed for the barracks to gather up some men to go bar-hopping.

* * *

Oliver Boyle watched the men who were working where his neighbor Otto’s house had once been.  The City of Los Angeles had screamed bloody murder at the Federal government for what they had originally wanted to build -- something like a nuclear reactor containment dome that would have necessitated billions of dollars, years of work, and would have scarred Laurel Canyon for all time.

The result was not much less ugly, but at least it was only two stories tall, instead of the ten stories they’d originally demanded.  It consisted of a cinder block inner wall with solid, reinforced concrete slabs for an outer wall.  He wouldn’t let them mess with the original foundation, which had caused hard feelings, but now there was a third, inner shell about ten feet tall, essentially an air-tight, welded steel tank.

They had very carefully cut holes for piers at the outer edge of the old foundation, and steel I-beams had been driven into the ground there to support the inner shed.

Everything about it was frustrating.  It was taking too long!  And if the government had been in charge, it would never have gotten done.  Otto Schulz’s condition had started to worsen once again, but he’d essentially made Oliver his conservator and authorized him to do what had to be done.

As frustrating as the speed was, the fact that someone had to stand over the workmen constantly to monitor what they were doing was also a pain.  Twice it had been careless accidents, once was almost certainly an attempt at sabotage.  The battles with the power companies, the oil companies and the like had moved into the courts, where the average judge, based on their life-times of liberal jurisprudence, never gave the big companies an even break.

So, the money for this was coming equally from his and Otto’s funds.  Kurt, Jacob, and he were at the site, one of them, twenty-four/seven.  Linda Walsh was there eight or ten hours a day, running around in a scooter or limping on crutches.  The government had done their level best to keep her and her friends from organizing the ten million man march, had failed and no longer cared -- they had other worries more urgent.

Linda told Oliver that the fusor was ready, the plans were ready, and they simply had to get the final clearance to install it and then it would take another twelve or fourteen hours to get it up and running.

She’d already learned a lot about working with the government inspectors.  They were trying their best to be obstructive, and Oliver and Jack Schaeffer had them in court twice a week.

The latest round of changes had specified a Level 5 Bio-containment facility with space for twelve beds.  He’d managed to work that down to Level 3, because at Level 5 they’d have needed a building five times the size.  Linda had told him that they couldn’t afford to have less than twelve people on call if they needed them, so that’s what they had.

There were two government doctors, two from NASA, two more who Oliver had hired and Helen was supervising the whole shooting match.  There were a dozen support personnel as well.  It was like the nightmare scenario for a movie director gone mad, throwing in the kitchen sink.

Helen had pointed out the ultimate irony.  She’d never mentioned to any of her questioners that she’d actually gone through the door to the Far Side and she hadn’t mentioned that so had Otto.  Kurt hadn’t told anyone he’d been there too.  She told Oliver that she was having bioassays run on her blood and lymph fluids a couple of times a week, and while there was some unfamiliar DNA there, none of it seemed to cause disease.