The Far Side (71 page)

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Authors: Gina Marie Wylie

BOOK: The Far Side
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“Aye, that’s so.  It worked better in Russia and China, and, I think, in Korea.  These things, Mr. Bullman, are a function of education.  When the US opened Japan, they too had limited rights for women, but things were just starting to change.  The Japanese weren’t culturally open to that change and resisted longer than the Americans did.  Eventually, though, it makes too much of a difference in outcomes.  Adding twenty or more percent to your productive population is a big jump.”

“True, but again, as a topic for food for thought: even in the US, the transition hasn’t been smooth.  Too many women walked away from having children, too many fathers walked away from their families.”

Andie tilted her head to one side.  “I’m a rocket scientist, Mr. Bullman -- pure and simple.  I try to evaluate things with the best, most open mind I can manage.  Our government let ‘feel good’ policies trump common sense, which was bad.  Worse, they let intentions trump results -- that is still an ongoing catastrophe.  I already know that the Arvalans are very different philosophically from us, and I intend to encourage those differences.

“Did you know, Mr. Bullman, that they don’t believe in gods or magic?  They are as rational as we should have been, but never were.  It comes at a cost of course.  We assigned explanations to events we didn’t understand to gods or magic.  When they don’t understand events, they tend to say ‘We don’t know and may never know’ and let it go.  If they concentrate on something, they can develop very rapidly -- it’s just that they don’t usually do that.

“I’m teaching them the scientific method.  Already it’s been seized upon in Arvala as a perfectly logical approach to inquiry that is far superior to the old way of ‘We may never know.’”

Andie wound down at the end of the sentence, watching the much older man.  He was as inscrutable as ever.

“Miss Schulz, I’ve heard that you are stubborn -- mulish if you will -- and that you aren’t fond of listening to other people’s ideas.”

She shook her head.  “I’m nothing like that at all.”

“Then I have a comment, a recommendation, and then a suggestion.”

“Sure, go ahead.

“A great many of the things you have on your list won’t fit through the tunnel that leads to the rookery.  A number of other items aren’t likely to go through the Far Side door, because the passage is little more than four feet wide.

“You mentioned earlier that you were concerned about what would happen if the physical shape of the other side was changed.  My recommendation is that you should find out sooner rather than later.  Right now it would take an hour or two to get everyone back on this side of the door.  There are plans, including your own, for more general exploration on the other side, and if that were to happen it might take a week or two or perhaps even a month to get everyone back.

“I’m not sure how that would affect your schedule, since you didn’t include one, but I have a feeling that it would.  I recommend that we arrange with Melek to have some Arvalans standing by to widen that passage once we have everyone on this side.  We can either leave the Far Side Door open or closed -- it’s up to you, Miss Schulz.  Personally, I’d recommend shutting down for a day or so to check everything, but that’s just me.”

Andie stared at him.  “You’re right.  I personally don’t think it’s a large risk, but it is a risk.  Better to close the door, so no one is tempted to sneak through.  Tell them they have a full day to work, and then we’ll check to see what happens.  I tell you true, it would break my heart if we lose the connection.  But it would hurt more losing people.”

“Indeed so, Miss Schulz.

“My last point is about those ATVs.  You have specified trailers and sidecars with them, which will mean that they can haul additional cargo.  Except, Miss Schulz, most ATVs aren’t overpowered and their engines aren’t designed to tow cargoes.  You may find that you will go through engines much faster than you thought.”

“Then we go through engines,” Andie told him.

“I assume you wish to be able to haul cargoes up to Arvala.”

“That’s right.  I realize that the gasoline is a risk, and I didn’t know about the maintenance issues, but it’s something we can deal with.  We need to be able to bring supplies to Arvala.”

“I understand that the Arvalan army, most of it, has turned around and marched home.”

“That’s correct.  They have no way to supply them that far away from home -- not since the road was destroyed in the two storms.  They cut a road south from Arvala that they used to supply the army when it was here, but it is very rough and needs a lot more work.”

“So, what you really need is a way to deliver supplies in both directions.  As things stand the Arvalans would be hard put to defend against a large-scale invasion.  And we know that the Tengri are on those islands to the east, and they are talking to their homeland.

“I know this will infuriate you, but the information you’ve given the NSA has allowed them to decode most of the Tengri transmissions -- but they are under orders not to share the information they’ve gained from those transmissions with you or anyone else in the project.  A friend told me about them, but not even he is brave enough to disclose the actual contents.”

“You’re right, that fuckwad President!” she started to say something else, but he held up his hand.

“Please, Miss Schulz.  I know your opinion of the man, and we both know it’s shared by the vast majority of our fellow countrymen.  However, the law of the land is still the law of the land, no matter how much those in power have been misusing those laws.  We make their case for them if we break them ourselves and ignore the fact that we are.  Please don’t make verbal threats of violence against the President.”

Andie growled something under her breath.  “He can not only threaten me and my friends with violence, but he can kill people, break people’s legs, arms and all of that -- and I can’t say that I hope one day to even the score?  I’d say it’s not fair, but then, when is life ever fair?”

“Miss Schulz, the people of our country are just as eager as you are to make sure the laws apply to everyone equally.  He will be brought to justice.”

“Fine, go on with what you are saying, then.”

“The Tengri are an existential threat to the Arvalans.  Moreover, the Tengri have, according to what Chaba and Diyala have told us, upwards of ten million slaves.  Slaves that need to be freed.  I know of no one, not even the fuckwad President of ours, who disagrees about that.  It’s about means and timetables, of course.

“You need a means of delivering significant quantities of goods between here and Arvala.  I would suggest, Miss Schulz, that you build a rail line.”

She sighed.  “Right now their iron ore production isn’t nearly enough for the demands on it.  With the coming introduction of rifled flintlocks, which use considerably more steel than a sword, the introduction of cannon, which use enormous quantities of iron and steel -- there isn’t enough to go around.  It’s going to take several years to ramp up the mining, smelting and refining of the ore.”

“Yes, I know,” the government’s representative agreed.

“It is true that steam engines are conceptually relatively simple and that there were steamboats introduced very quickly after the discovery of the steam engine.  Railroads are even simpler -- it would be a good idea, but I don’t see them able to do anything about it for three or four years -- and they may not have three or four years.”

“That is correct, Miss Schulz.  I told my friend that while the Arvalans could use any intelligence about the Tengri they could get, any information about the dispatch of additional vessels in this direction is critical to their survival.  He’s assured me that while he doesn’t dare give details, he will let me know if any more ships are on the way here.”

“I guess thanks are in order.”

“He’s like all of us, Miss Schulz.  We chafe under the restrictions that small men with small minds -- and small dicks -- have placed on us.”

Andie smiled.  “So, trains, planes and automobiles.  All good ideas whose time will come, but just not yet.”

“Miss Schulz, I wasn’t thinking of building a spur of the Santa Fe or the Union Pacific north to Arvala.  I know this will sound crazy, but I volunteer summer weekends at a local amusement park.  I know diesel engines, and they have a small train that runs around the perimeter of the park.  It has a track gauge of fifteen inches, and the cars are stable and can do real work.  I might add that there is a large community of steam engine builders out there who would dearly love to build and maintain such a railroad system.”

“Not diesel?” Andie asked, focusing on the one thing she could improve on.  “The Arvalans have mountains of hard coal.  If you want a stunning geography lesson start anywhere on the west coast of the East Finger and walk east for twenty miles, until you get to the watershed line between the east and west slopes of the peninsula.  Twenty miles of limestone, sandstone, granite and basaltic intrusions, coal seams that can be a hundred yards thick -- you name it, it’s there.  And I understand that the same thing is true on the West Finger as well.  The Middle Finger seems to be more like the Mississippi River delta -- think of a long, skinny Louisiana.”

“That’s a lot of sedimentary layers,” Jon Bullman told her.

“It is.  I think this planet is a lot older than Earth.  A lot older.  And it’s odd, don’t you think, that in both cases there was a continent that wasn’t inhabited at first by people, then travelers reached it and began to spread across it?  Of course, these people have had little more than a thousand years.  On Earth it took tens of thousands of years to populate the Americas.”

She contemplated him for a moment.  “I’m going to need someone who is a mining engineer who can come and look at what needs to be done to make the rookery easier to traverse and do the planning.  No blasting and he has to stick close to the guidelines.”

“Someone like that can be found easily enough,” Jon told her.

“Since he has to be approved by the government, why don’t you see to it then?” Andie asked him.

Jon laughed.  “Ah!  An action point!  You haven’t given me very many of those!  I’ll get right on it!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 27 :: Choo Choo!

 

 

Andie Schulz got out of the car and looked around.  Linda climbed out of the driver’s side and stretched, flexing her legs.  It was, Andie thought, enough to make you see red, knowing that her friend was going to have aches and pains for the rest of her life.

The area was pretty enough, high in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.  Tree-covered mountains, fields, and an occasional cluster of buildings stretched away into the blue haze, and the sky was cloudless and blue.  The house not far away was rather old and not terribly well maintained.  There was a small version of a steam locomotive visible inside a barn.

In spite of the relatively early hour, the man sitting on the porch of the house was balancing a long-neck beer bottle on a paunch that was every bit as large as her father’s in his heyday.  From the number of empties around him, there was no way to be sure just which one of the day this beer was.

Andie walked up to the steps and stood looking at him.  “Who the fuck are you?” the man asked.

“Andie Schulz, fuckwad.  If you’re Henry Martindale, I told you I was coming.”

He blinked.  “That’s not very lady-like language.”

“I’m a person more interesting in getting things done.  The lady stuff I keep for special occasions.”

“And you’re interested in Liberty 176?”

“That’s me.  Is that it, in the barn?”

“That’s her, in the barn, yes.”

“Show me.  Tell me in as many words as you need, why the fuck I’d want to buy it.  Her, excuse me.”

He heaved himself up from the rocking chair he was sitting in and walked towards the barn.  He gestured at Linda.  “Does your friend want to see, too?”

Andie stifled a moment of pain.  “A couple months ago, both her legs were broken, along with some of the bones in her right hand.  She’s getting around better, but she doesn’t like to climb up and down things, not if she can avoid it.  Sitting in the car for the drive up here -- her legs are stiff and hurt.  She’ll be okay.”

“Life sure sucks, don’t it?” he told Andie.  He waved towards the barn and led her there.

So, Andie got a tour of a steam locomotive, learning a whole lot more than she’d ever wanted to know about steam boilers and engines.

Andie listened politely, and when he finished, he nodded at the engine.  “If you’re serious, I’ll fire her up.”

“I’m serious, but not just yet.  I have a couple of questions.  How much water does it use?”

“The tender holds about a thousand gallons; I rarely fill it more than a quarter of the way.”

“No, I mean, like miles per gallon?”

He laughed.  “Gallons per mile.”

“How far can she go without having to stop for water?”

“Right now, about forty out and back, call it a hundred miles.”

“A hundred?  That’s no good.  Can that be extended?”

“You have to understand that right now forty miles is the longest 15-inch track in the world.  Why would you need to go further?”

“This would be a working engine on a longer line,” she told him.

He rubbed his chin.  “Push come to shove, I can probably double that, out and back.”

“Two hundred?  How about two fifty?”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be hard to fill her all the way up, but you’d be awfully slow at first.  You wouldn’t want to think about having to make a fast stop -- you wouldn’t.”

“How fast can she go?”

“On a flat, straight stretch of track, maybe forty miles an hour.  If it wasn’t a great stretch of track, laid down by some guys who seriously knew their shit, about the fourth or fifth time you did that, you’d derail.”

“Safe at twenty, thirty miles an hour?”

“Good track, without a lot of curves, I’d say twenty-five for sure, maybe thirty.”

“How much will she haul?”

“Usually we ran her with two cars.”

“Two? That’s no good either.”

“Those cars hold twenty-four people each.  Getting one full car was a chore, most times.  We ran with two so people could have some room.  On a working line you could probably haul twenty cars of passengers, maybe half that of hopper or flat cars.  Depends on what the cargo is.  You put any kind of a load on her, though, and the steepest grade you could have would be three percent.  Even without a load, four percent would be pushing it.  You don’t even want to know what it would be like going down a four percent grade with a full load.  Casey Jones time!”

“She burns coal for fuel?  How far can she get on a tender load of that?”

“Water’s the limiting factor, but you have to know the fucking dickwads at the EPA go crazy when they see a smoke streamer a mile high.  You’ll have to do some fancy footwork to get permission to run her.  Not to mention, she’s just a little noisy.  Where, may I ask, are you thinking of putting her?”

“Somewhere unusual.  You understand, that all I know about steam, trains, and that shit is what I’ve learned in a couple of days on the Internet.”

“Guys like me, we have it in our blood; it’s our lives.”

“So, why are you selling her?” Andie asked him.

He regarded her coldly.  “Four years ago I was the happiest fat fucker in the world.  I had a tall son that I was proud of -- he was a Marine.  My daughter-in-law was a city girl, but she said she liked living away from the city.  I had a five year old grandson who I could hold on my lap as we went down the rails and I like to have busted with pride.

“Then some raghead blew my boy up in I-rack, and then my dippy daughter-in-law ran off with some college boy, leaving my grandson behind.  And then the kid went fishing in the pond, like I told him a million times never to do by himself, and fell in and drowned.  I get this puppy sold, and I’m checking out of here.”

“Two weeks ago my old man died.  Fucker had cancer; the assholes wouldn’t let me out to see him and wouldn’t let him in to see me.  All I got to see was an urn with his ashes,” Andie said bitterly.

He eyed Andie.  “You don’t look like a bad girl, but I admit, you kinda sound like one.  I’ve been in stir; it sure ain’t no fun.”

She laughed.  “No, I’m the best kind of kid.  I was in a hospital and he was in a different hospital and they wouldn’t let either one of us go to the other.”

“Fucking assholes!” he said with venom.

“They just thought they were doing their jobs -- like concentration camp guards, you know?”

“Like I said, fuckin’ assholes!”

“Henry...” she started to say.

“Hank,” he corrected her.

“Hank, I’ll be honest with you.  I need a rail line.  I’m a little limited on how big the equipment can be.  No more than six feet six inches high, and no more than three feet nine inches wide, and no longer than nineteen feet.”

“You can take the tender off; that’ll get the lengths right.  You’d have to take the trucks and wheels off, not to mention the smoke stack, to get the height.  The cow catcher comes off easily enough; that’ll get the width down to what you want.  Yeah, it can be done.  Wouldn’t be much work, not really.”

“Hank, buddy, you sound like someone who hasn’t got a reason in the world to live for, except seeing this engine go to a good home.  Is that right?” Andie spoke gently.

“That’s right.  Like I said, I sell her and I’m checking out.  I know a couple of working small-gauge railroads that I’ll will the money too, but they don’t need another engine -- they need the cash.”

“Hank, I have a lot on my plate.  While I need a railroad, I don’t need the drain on my time that running it would entail.  I have some friends who would pay a man well to run the railroad I’m going to build for them.  Say, a pound of gold a month for the first year, then double that the next year.”

“A pound of gold?  I sure as fuck ain’t going to work for no fucking ragheads!”

“These guys aren’t ragheads.  In fact, when I tell them you’ll work for a pound of gold a month, they’ll think you’re about as dim as someone who wanted to work for a pound of copper a month.”

“That would be pretty stupid,” Hank agreed.

“Hank, I don’t want publicity.  I’m real publicity shy.  I need a guy to run this railroad, I need him yesterday.  I need someone who is good, but isn’t going to sweat the small things -- like it’ll be just a bit dangerous.”

“For five hundred grand a year, or thereabouts?  Working on a railroad?  Sure -- just so long as it isn’t some stupid hobby setup.”

“This will be a righteous, working railroad, Hank.  I want to put up four or five hundred miles of track and however many trestle bridges are needed.  When I’ve got that single track done, we’ll put in a second line.  Plus build a couple of stations.  Then we’ll see about extending that, as well.”

Hank grimaced.  “I can run the equipment, sure enough.  Light maintenance on the rails?  Yeah, I can do that.  How much of that five hundred miles has been surveyed and graded?”

“None.  Think of the Transcontinental Railroad days.  Wild Indians, hostile critters... wild country where if you break down it’ll be real exciting waiting for a repair crew.”

He shook his head.  “I’m a rolling stock guy.  Steam engines and all of that.  Surveying, grading, bridges?  I have only the roughest idea.  Five hundred miles?  Do you have any idea of how much it’ll cost to buy the right of way?  Jeez!”

“Like I said, it’s not around here.  You’re saying I’ll need someone to run the surveying and do the track work?”

“Yeah.”  He laughed.  “Speaking of that, I know a real railroad man who could do it -- but, like me, he’s a drunk.”

Andie looked at him for a long moment.  “Now that’s a thought!  I don’t have a problem with drinking when you’re not working -- so long as you show up sober at the start of the work day.  Hung over?
  Not so good.  The twelve-hour rule, I think.  So, same deal for your friend -- a pound of gold a month, for the first year, twice that the second.”

Hank Martindale laughed.  “This is a dream!  There’s got to be a catch!”

“Oh, there is more than a catch.  Think of it as a remote tour in the army.  You could, I suppose, bring family, but it wouldn’t be a good idea.  It’s Indian country; like I said, not to mention critters only too happy to eat you, the little woman or the little kiddies.  We beat the bad guys back, but they could come back at any time.  Of course, I’ll supply you with any weapon of your choice and all the ammo you’ll need.  To be honest though, most of your troubles will come from critters.”

He laughed.  “Yeah, the four-legged variety!  I hunt cougars a couple of times a year.”

“Well, these ain’t cougars and the worst threats only have two legs.”

“I’m not going to shoot people.”

“If you meet the hostile natives, you’ll change your mind, right quick.  No, these are critters that I’m talking about.  Hank, right now I’d like to make you a firm offer.  But to do that, I have a non-disclosure agreement for you to sign first.  Basically if you talk about this without prior permission, your ass is mine.”

“I don’t talk about things like this out of school, but I ‘spose these days you need a signed piece of paper to be sure.”

Andie held up her arm and Linda saw it.  Andie mimed writing above her head, and Linda leaned into the rental, picked something up and started towards them.

“What, she’s like your assistant?” Hank asked sourly.

“She’s not like anyone else in the world, Hank.  She’s my partner, and she saved my life and the lives of two of my friends.  Right now she’s feeling a little low because she isn’t making any headway on the job she was hired for because of quite a few distractions.  She tells me she wants to be ‘useful’ any way she can.”

Hank cleared his throat.  “Is that girl carryin’ a machine gun?”

Linda arrived and looked at him and shook her head.  “No, it’s Andie’s; I’m just holding it for her.”

Hank held his hands up.  “I surrender!”  He was laughing.

Andie looked at him and held out her hand.  “Hank, good buddy, let’s say we shake first on your holding your peace about telling anyone about this?”

She held out her hand and he shook it.

Andie looked at him coldly.  “Six weeks ago, Hank, I was standing on a beach a very long ways from North Carolina.  I was supposed to negotiate a cease fire and the evacuation of a position by invaders.  They laughed at me, Hank.  I’m short; I know I’m short, and I know that sometimes the only way I can get people’s attention is to be physical.  The third time they ignored me, I used this very P90 to blow a baker’s dozen away.  I killed the mother fuckers, dead -- you understand?

“I stood there shooting at them, and they stood there shooting at me.  It was thirteen for Andie and zip for them.  I got my cease fire and I got my evacuation.  Please don’t make jokes about me or about Linda.”

He looked dubious, and Linda Walsh laughed and said, “I guess you don’t get out much, eh?”

“I drink a lot of beer,” Hank said honestly.  “I don’t much care what the rest of the fucking world does.”

“You hear about the problems of the President and those boys up in Washington?” Andie asked.

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