The Guns of Two-Space (62 page)

"Dead cat bounce," said the one, laconically. "Thas sumpthin' ya don't see ever' day."

"Yep," replied his friend, calmly. "Except I don' think 'e was dead. Looked like he was squatting to poop."

"Rough way ta go."

"Yep. He didn't look none too happy 'bout it."

The cats around Cuddles all watched Brutus bounce once and disappear into two-space. They understood. Once again Cuddles had demonstrated that old age and treachery will defeat youth and enthusiasm every time.

Cuddles wandered off with the kind of catlike nonchalance and poise that causes envy in humans and outrage in dogs. With both his enemies (vermin and feline) now well and truly defeated, he automatically went into his default mode of looking for food or females to rape.
Food or sex? Food? Sex?
Sometimes life was hard for the top cat. Decisions, decisions.

Food.
Food sounded good, and this time of day Mrs. Vodi should have something for him, he thought as he trotted off.

"Well, Captain, we have good news for you," Brother Theo reported.

Once again the purser, surgeon, and first officer were meeting in the captain's cabins. Mrs. Vodi was too busy nursing her sick and dying cats to come this time.

"That would be a pleasant change," Melville replied with a grin. "What have you got for me?"

"Welladay," said Lady Elphinstone, "we hath found the source of the illness that hath afflicted our gallant crew. Wouldst know what it is?"

"I'd like nothing better!" said the captain.

She shook her head in frustration as she continued. "'Twas a water barrel placed as deck cargo in the lowerside waist. It hath been broached by the cooks, but 'twas not recorded!"

"Aye, Captain," said a grim faced Theo, "and it is my division's responsibility to keep those records. I'm afraid I must accept the blame for what has happened."

"Nay," said Elphinstone. "'Tis a joint responsibility to inspect all sanitation and monitor all records. I must shoulder my portion of the reprobation."

"Hell, I should have spotted it during captain's rounds on Sunday," said Melville, "and in the future we'll be watching for this. The good news is no one has died." Then he looked at the surgeon's grim countenance and corrected himself quickly, "Except for our cats, of course. Which is certainly a tragedy. The question before us is, how much harm has been done to our water supply?"

"There shouldn't be too much cross-contamination, Captain," said Theo. "There are procedures in place to prevent that. Any secondary reservoirs that drew water from that source will have to be purged and cleansed, but it shouldn't amount to much."

"Good!" said Fielder. "So it should all be over now?"

"Aye," replied Elphinstone. "Fear not. The nausea, incontinence and anal leakage shall clear soon. I'm not sure about the impotence, though. 'Tis possible that will be a permanent effect. I am confident that thou shalt let us know when we get into port, won't thee, Daniel?" She gave him a sweet smile which didn't hide the glint in her eyes.

"Oh, hell," he moaned.

"Back on subject here," Melville said. "The final question is, how did it happen? I mean, why a poison that only kills cats?

"We think it's just a fluke," said Theo. "Some local toxin, maybe from an aquatic life form on Show Low that the felines just happened to be sensitive to. No way it could have been intentional. I mean, if someone was going to attack
Fang
, why would they poison our cats?"

"Aye," nodded Melville. "I know you love them," he said quickly to Lady Elphinstone, "but they're not exactly our achilles heel! I mean, come on, you have to admit that they're not
essential
to our survival, now are they?"

"Hello, my sweet little Cuddle-kins," cooed Vodi, scooping up the cat as he sauntered into the hospital. Vodi was a truly wise woman, but everyone had a weakness, and this was one area in which the universe had pulled the wool over her eyes. In her mind, this malignant, vicious, rapacious, murderous fur coat with razor blades was still an adorable kitten. Cuddling him and cooing to him she said, "Has 'ou been a good boy? Has 'ou been staying out of trouble?"

Cuddles purred happily, and somewhere deep in his self-centered cat soul he thought his feline thoughts:
If you only knew, person. If you only knew. Now, where's my damned food?
 

* * *

When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who biddest the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
Lord, guard and guide the men who fly
Through the great spaces in the sky.
Be with them always in the air,
In darkening storms or sunlight fair;
Oh, hear us when we lift our prayer,
For those in peril in the air!

The Navy Hymn or "Eternal Father"
(Various verses have different authors, and many are unknown)

There were very few truly devout men about the
Fang
. Even Brother Theo could not really be called pious. But there were also precious few who did not feel the tug of mortality in the midst of battle, and no sentient creature could avoid a sense of wonder and awe at the nature of

this magical realm that they traveled in.

Thus, the religious services held every Sunday morning were always well attended, and Brother Theo tried to minister to their spiritual needs without chasing anyone away. He found that the best way to do that was to keep it short, and to tap into the deep roots of their history and culture with Words and stories. And of course a few Songs of faith. The
Fang
s did love their singing, and the ancient old Songs touched the soul of the sailor far from home.

"Shipmates," said Theo, "we are about to enter into a new chapter in our voyage. We are far from home, and far from our loved ones. But we are off on a
great
adventure, and we are never far from the Almighty, even out here. So let us sing the Navy Hymn, and let this be my sermon, and may this be our prayer, dedicating our loved ones and our Ship to Him." In his strong, clear, tenor voice he led them through the first three verses. The third verse was written in the twentieth century for the early astronauts, but the sailors of two-space claimed it, happily and loudly, for themselves.

"Aloft in solitudes of space,
Uphold them with Thy saving grace.
Thou Who supports with tender might
The balanced birds in all their flight.
Lord, if the tempered winds be near,
That, having Thee, they know no fear."
 

"Aye," growled Broadax, in the pause between verses, "having
us
, 'they know no fear' out here!" That drew a cheer as the assembled
Fang
s continued.

"God, Who dost still the restless foam,
Protect the ones we love at home.
Provide that they should always be
By Thine own grace both safe and free.
O Father, hear us when we pray
For those we love so far away."
 

There were more than a few tears as they dwelt upon that verse and their loved ones far away, and there was peace and solace in entrusting them to the Almighty.

Before the final verses Brother Theo interjected, "And as we sing these last two verses, let us take this opportunity to humbly entrust and rededicate ourselves and our Ship to Him."

"O Father, King of earth and sea,
We dedicate this ship to Thee.
In faith we send her on her way;
In faith to Thee we humbly pray:
O hear from heaven our sailor's cry
And watch and guard her from on high!
"And when at length her course is run,
Her work for home and country done,
Of all the souls that in her sailed
Let not one life in Thee have failed;
But hear from heaven our sailor's cry,
And grant eternal life on high!"
 

"'Hear from heaven our sailor's cry, and grant eternal life on high!' What more could we ask?" concluded Brother Theo.

"Amen," said the captain. "First Officer, clear for action! All hands to battle stations, and prepare the Ship for competition between the gun crews. Mr. Hans, get my jollyboat out to position the targets!"

The problem with the enthusiastic competitions so beloved by the captain and his crew was the occasional injury. These kept Lady Elphinstone, Mrs. Vodi, and their corpsmen gainfully occupied with repairing the young sailors and marines, and castigating them for their carelessness. While the medicos complained of the extra effort these injuries caused, they took solace in the fact that the wounds were all relatively minor and the work was fairly easy.

The lack of major casualties left the medical personnel with plenty of time to deal with their one major recovering invalid, Midshipman Hayl. The sword wound itself had healed quickly, but the hand failed to reattach properly and had to be amputated. Joby DeWalt, their Celebri carpenter, had spent many days during the long voyage across the Far Rift, carefully forming a prosthesis and working with Mrs. Vodi and Hayl to ensure that the cup was a proper fit. The final product was a pleasant surprise to the boy.

"All right, young sir," said DeWalt, "let's see how the cup fits over the arm now. Make sure it isn't binding."

Hayl held his arm out and looked at the leather and wood brace which extended up the length of his forearm. "It's on like you and Mrs. Vodi showed me, sir," he replied. "It's snug but not too tight, and there's room in the straps to tighten it if I need to."

DeWalt nodded and pointed to the white wood along the length of the brace. "You can see that I used Nimbrell wood on your new arm, lad, and the Elbereth Moss took to it well. See, the braces come down to the end of the cup where there's a socket for your attachments to screw in, so you won't have just a pirate's hook!"

"Although," added Mrs. Vodi cheerfully, "if you wanted to impress the pretty girls you could always borrow Mr. Asquith's eyepatch and one of Ulrich's birds and pretend you're an old time freebooter!"

Hayl smiled dutifully, but stared despondently at the leather and wood brace on his arm.

"But, how...." he burst out, "how can I ever be a midshipman when I'm missing a hand? How can I be as good as I need to be for the captain if I can't use both hands?" He turned his head away to hide his tears.

DeWalt flushed and started to mumble, "Well, as to that..." but he was overridden by another voice.

"As to that, Mr. Hayl," said Melville as he came into the sick bay, "don't you think the captain should decide what you can and cannot do for him?"

Melville and DeWalt had talked with the medicos about Hayl. Physically, he was in excellent shape, indicating that he was one of those individuals whose healing benefited by the unpredictable environment of two-space. Mentally though, the boy was having a difficult time of it.

Hayl felt guilty about passing out after the fight, and was second-guessing himself. But Melville also felt guilty, and he saw the lad as he was: a brave young man who had done his duty to the limit of his endurance and stayed ready to fight until the moment when his abused body could stand no more and collapsed.

He thought of Words that described the young middie's spirit:

Out of the night that covers me
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
 

Melville smiled as he felt a surge of joy.
Joy
that he had the privilege to command such men (
and
boys!) as this. He looked at the middie with so much pleasure and affection in his eyes that Hayl felt the top layers of his sadness being swept away, and he couldn't help but grin back. If his captain could be so happy to see him, then maybe life wasn't so terrible.

"I think that perhaps the situation is not so grim as you're making it out to be," said Melville kindly. "It'll be a long while before we can get you back to Earth to have your hand cloned and attached. Until then, Mr. DeWalt has come up with some, ah,
innovations
, you might say, that will help you along the way. In particular, the Nimbrell wood and the Keel charge he incorporated into the brace should help."

Hayl looked at the brace, and then at the captain and the carpenter. He concentrated on the wood where it touched the skin of his forearm and felt a... well a <>>
was the only way he could describe it!

He looked over at DeWalt, with his eyes wide. "I feel it," he said, "I feel it in my head. It's purring! It likes me!" he said excitedly.

Hayl's monkey
eek
ed and slid down to examine the brace closely, touching it gently. Then the little creature extended its head up and over so it was looking at Hayl eye to eye, and it
eek
ed again excitedly.

"Yes, lad, it purrs," DeWalt replied with a gentle smile. "And it will do more as you get used to each other.
Fang
is fond of you. She thinks you are a 'good pup.' Which made it easier for me to work with the Ship and the wood to build a tiny mite of a Keel charge into the cup, and a bit of Nimbrell wood for the bracings.

"I tell you true, lad," the carpenter continued, "that even being of the Celebri this brace was cursed hard to make." DeWalt shook his head slowly, "If the Ship itself hadn't wanted to help, it wouldn't have worked. So what you have there is a piece of the
Fang
, which means that it has a bit of an ability to influence and manipulate gravitic forces, just like a pistol's Keel charge." He reached into the bag next to him and pulled out what appeared to be a simple hook, made of steel inlaid with white Nimbrell wood.

"This little jewel works with it quite well. The hook is actually split, so with practice, you can grasp things with it. The inside arc is sharp, except for the top of the curve, so you can hold something like a rope to climb without cutting it. The Keel pieces will give it the force you need to hold the two sides of the hook together, and will let go when you want them to. They're cursed rare. I've only seen a prosthetic like this once before and that when I was a lad. To make one takes not only a master Shipwright.
Which
you are just lucky enough to have," and he bowed with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "But you're also blessed to have a Ship that cares enough to help. Like I said,
Fang
thinks you're a 'good pup.'"