The Pen and the Sword (Destiny's Crucible Book 2) (5 page)

“Gentleman,
unfortunately, we don’t have a general staff meeting for another sixday, but
before we part, I, and I’m sure Morfred also, want to offer congratulations to Brigadier
Zulfa. I understand from my wife, Rabia, that a child was born in the Zulfa
household from your woman, Panira.”

Admiral
Kalcan slapped Zulfa on the back, shouting, “Good going, Aivacs! That’s two
from Panira, if I recall.”

A
broad smile broke on the face of the usually impassive Zulfa. “Yes, first a
boy, Turmin, who’s now almost two, and yesterday a girl, Nizla. Both baby and
mother are doing well.”

Zulfa
could have brought his family with him when he posted to the Caedellium
mission, but his wife had been heavy with child, and one of their other three
children had a long-term weakness that needed constant attention. He hadn’t realized
the posting to Caedellium would last more than two years. He and his wife had
agreed he needed a woman, neither expecting him to remain celibate.

Zulfa’s
wife played a central role in choosing a seventeen-year-old girl, Panira, the
daughter of one of Zulfa’s retainers back in Narthon. Her family was honored to
accept the offer to have one of their daughters join the Zulfa household. Her
position would be as a “second wife”—effectively a concubine. There could be many
such second wives, but resulting children were formally the children of the
first wife. For Panira, her children might not be major inheritors of the
father, but would have education, contacts, and more opportunities than
otherwise possible. It was an accepted and respectable position in Narthani
society, particularly for a lower-caste Narthani family, descendants of a
people absorbed into the Narthon Empire eighty years previously. They were of
the core of Narthani society, yet had no expectations of rising into higher
levels for another generation or more, without associating with the higher
levels of society, of which Zulfa’s immediate and extended family was part.

The
daughter, once informed of the arrangement, acquiesced, as expected. Not that
she had a choice, but Zulfa wouldn’t have taken her if she were unwilling. It
had proved a good decision. The girl managed his Caedellium residence, which
included several local slaves and the aides and the guards of Zulfa’s who
resided within the villa he had appropriated from a wealthy Preddi family

Akuyun’s
wife, Rabia, was a friend of Panira’s, an uncommon connection between a wife
and a concubine in another household, but Rabia and Akuyun both approved of the
young woman and the stability she gave Zulfa, allowing him to focus on his
duties.

The
two years Zulfa had expected stretched into four. He exchanged letters with his
wife, but his children were growing up without him. The separation hit him hard
recently when his oldest son, now eight years old, began writing letters to a
father he hardly remembered. If he didn’t get back soon, Zulfa wondered whether
the children at home would ever form the level of connection he had had with
his
father.

The
islanders often reinforced Yozef’s opinion of their acumen and industry. They
might be backward in technology compared to Earth, yet once given direction,
they ran with it. None of his earlier shops needed his attention. The Caedelli
supervisors and staff implemented his initial instructions and developed
further products and processes by experimentation. He seldom stopped at the
workshops for ether, alcohol, papers, or soaps, while devoting only moderately
more time to keeping abreast of progress on the cannon and gunpowder projects. Business
details he left to Cadwulf and the staff at the Bank of Abersford.

It
was after a meeting to discuss expanding kerosene production that Cadwulf
commented on Yozef’s recent activity.

“Yozef,
I hope you don’t mind my asking, but recently you’re spending most of your time
preparing for fighting. Not that I don’t think it important to do whatever we can
in case the Buldorians or the Narthani come again, but I’ve seen you more as
the scholastic type.”

“I
am, but we can’t always do what we want. My people have a saying: ‘The quill is
mightier than the sword,’ though it’s more a philosophical proposition than one
rooted in the real world. While I agree that over time, often what a person
writes can have more influence than another person’s conquests, time and the
effect of the present can’t be ignored. The quill may be mightier long term,
but the sword wins short term.

“To
do what I’m best at, I and everyone here have to survive whatever the Narthani
plan. I hope my projects can help both Keelan and me to survive.”

What
Yozef didn’t tell Cadwulf was that in this case, the “quill” was his journals.
He needed time to write as much as he could remember. Soon after he’d recovered
from the shock of being cast away on Anyar, he recognized that his knowledge of
Earth science would advance human civilization on Anyar by centuries. The
problem was that there was no way to suddenly incorporate what he knew into the
existing civilization. Knowledge didn’t exist in a vacuum. Each piece needed to
fit into a society’s existing knowledge base and philosophical principles.

Added
to this problem was fear for his own safety, if he attempted to introduce
knowledge violating religious or cultural precepts he didn’t even know existed.
As a science student, he knew of the fate of early scientists who contradicted the
Catholic Church’s teachings on astronomy around 1600 AD: Giordano Bruno, a
Dominican friar, was burned at the stake for heresy, and Galileo, thirty years
later, was threatened with the same fate, until he recanted. Yozef had
estimated Anyarian technology to be at approximately Earth’s level around 1700,
so he treaded lightly at first.

As
time passed and he gained more confidence, he had used elementary chemistry to
introduce new products and processes without experiencing serious repercussions.
Mathematics had also been safe, because it was seen as more abstract than something
that directly impacted beliefs. The Caedelli were not yet aware of how it
permeated everything else.

He
had also given St. Sidryn’s medicants, members of the medical order of the
Caedelli service society, ether, ethanol as an antiseptic, and knowledge of the
body’s organs and physiology, being very careful not to introduce too much too
soon and retreating into feigned ignorance at warning signs.

Still,
these were minor advances. He assumed he would transfer only a fraction of what
he knew within his life span. To reach beyond that time, he wrote in English
two sets of secret journals.
One set recounted how he had come to Anyar and
everything he could remember about Earth history. He intended that no one read
this set while he lived, but he wanted there to be a record of what had
happened to him to tell future Anyarians where they came from.

The
second set of journals he also wrote in English, but it was everything he
remembered about science and mathematics. The Watchers, aliens who had saved
him after colliding with his airliner, had modified his DNA for more efficient
energy production and utilization. The AI, Harlie, said it was to compensate
for Anyar’s gravity being higher than Earth’s. Whether intended or not, a side
effect was enhanced memory for previous experiences. Concentrating brought
forth entire pages of text and lessons from his undergraduate and graduate courses.
There were annoying gaps, paragraphs, or pages missing from a chapter, but the
totality was more advanced than anything likely to exist on Anyar for a century
or more, especially in physics, geology, biology, biochemistry, and, most of
all, chemistry—his specialty.

He
spent many hours with quill and ink filling blank bound journals with carefully
stroked words, equations, and diagrams. Page after page, journal after journal.
His latest efforts focused on electromagnetism and Maxwell’s equations and a
second journal on the elements of molecular genetics and the structure of DNA.
He hadn’t time to translate everything into Caedelli, so he expanded the English/Caedelli
dictionary, which he’d begun when first learning the language, to include a
Caedelli explanation of English grammar—the dictionary and the grammar to be
stored with the science journals. At some future time, whether in his lifetime
or not, the science journal set would be available. Initially, he’d thought the
time to reveal this set would be after his death, but after the raid on St. Sidryn’s
and his own narrow escape, he became impatient. He needed to push knowledge
forward faster, but it required more people to understand and extend what he
knew. Cadwulf’s enthusiasm for the new mathematics and Brother Wallington’s
epiphany on using the first microscopes to study previously unknown realms of
animal and plant life encouraged Yozef to bring in more Caedelli scholastics.
He envisioned expanding St. Sidryn’s scholastic staff, the Caedellium version
of academics, into a university. These were dreams to which he could devote the
rest of his life.

However,
the university would succeed only with the abbot’s approval and backing. He had
procrastinated, but the time had come. He spent two days thinking, and then one
mid-afternoon, after seeing the abbot enter the cathedral, he knocked on Sistian’s
door.

“Enter.”
Sistian sat behind his cluttered desk. “Ah, Yozef, what can I do you for
today?”

Yozef
jumped right in. “If you have time, I’d like to discuss expanding the
scholastic staff here at St. Sidryn’s.”

“Expand?
How do you mean expand?” asked the abbot, waving for Yozef to sit.

“I’m
thinking about the number of scholastics. I understand there are fourteen
scholastics here, plus several of the brothers and sisters are medicants and
have interests that might be considered scholastic oriented. The experience of
my people is that scholastics are more efficient in learning when their number
is higher and represented by many different areas of knowledge.”

We’d
call it a “critical mass,” but if he asked where the phrase came from, how
would I explain about nuclear chain reactions?

Sistian
nodded. “I understand, Yozef, but how many scholastics can there be in one
place?”

“As
many as possible.”

“Then
how are they supported? An abbey like St. Sidryn’s is doing well to provide for
its fourteen scholastics. Even so, some of the medicant and theophist brothers
and sisters chaff at even the fourteen as being too many.”

Yozef
had learned early on that the Caedelli service society included three orders:
medicants to tend the body; theophists, to the spirit; and scholastics to study
God’s world. Sistian was St. Sidryn’s abbot and head theophist, while his wife,
Diera, was abbess and the head medicant. This was the first Yozef had heard of
tension among the orders.

“Obviously,
it takes more coin as the number of scholastics increases,” Yozef said, “which
is why I wanted to speak with you. My people strongly believe in the value of
scholastics and willingly provide such support, but what about the people here?
I assume to expand the number of scholastics on Caedellium would require
considerable additional coin.”

Sistian
sat back in his chair and folded hands over a stomach that had been growing the
last few years, as Diera had mentioned to him numerous times. “And how would
you see such support happening here?”

“The
people are already taxed, the funds going first to the district boyermen and
then part to the clan hetman. It would require using part of that tax to
increase the scholastic staff.”

“I
hope you understand you would need to convince not only the hetman and the boyermen.
The people would also have to believe in the value of supporting more
scholastics. As much as I love all Keelanders, most are concerned with the here
and now, and getting them to understand the longer-term value of scholastics is
always difficult.”

“I
appreciate the problem, but what do
you
believe? Given all the uses for
available coin, how do
you
value scholastics, compared to all the other
needs?”

The
abbot was quiet for a moment, his eyes on Yozef, the fingers of his hands now
tapping his stomach as he thought. “Before you arrived, I thought I was
allotting as much of St. Sidryn’s resources to our scholasticum as was possible,
and possibly more than I should. Now… after the ether, kerosene, the
mathematics you’ve shown Cadwulf, the medical knowledge you’ve shared with
Diera, I’ve been wondering . . .

“Tell
me, Yozef, how many scholastics are found at one site in your land?”

Yozef
could hardly tell him thousands to tens of thousands—if you counted professors,
post-docs, graduate and undergraduate students. It needed to start slowly,
here. Too grandiose for Caedelli standards, and he’d lose the abbot.

“Our
scholastics aren’t part of abbeys such as here on Caedellium. They gather in what
we call a university, where they can number several score, and at some of the
more important universities, hundreds.”

Sistian
jerked in his chair. “That many! And your people support such a number?”

“Yes.
Naturally, people being people, there are always arguments over whether that’s
too many or not enough, but certainly many more than on Caedellium.”

“University,”
Sistian repeated. “I suppose I appreciate the value of getting scholastics together
in larger numbers, although I’m dubious about it here on Caedellium. I know
there are such centers on some of the mainland realms—the Fuomi, for example,
and some Iraquinink states. Diera spent several years in medicant training on
Landolin in a large center. Here? I doubt the hetman and the boyermen would
even consider such a proposal.”

“I
agree, which is why I came to you. What if we start by increasing the
scholastic staff here in St. Sidryn’s? You already have fourteen scholastics. Plus,
I suspect Cadwulf would reasonably be considered a scholastic in mathematics.
What I propose is that since the abbey has increased coin from its share of the
ether and kerosene trades, and since my enterprises are doing so well, that we
jointly support establishing a small university.”

Sistian
sat thoughtfully, considering. “And if we did this, how much would the abbey
need to provide?”

“We
can discuss it, but I suggest the abbey provide one-fifth of the coin, and I
would provide the rest.”

“Such
an uneven share,” said the surprised abbot. “I expected you to propose we share
the cost equally.”

“Realistically,
I probably have more available coin than the abbey, plus the abbey would
provide not only one fifth of the coin, but also its existing scholastics, the
prestige of the abbey, and, let’s be honest, the reputation of, and regard for,
the abbot.”

Sistian
smiled at the compliment and waved it off with a hand motion.

“Over
time,” Yozef said, “the boyerman, the hetman, and hopefully the people will come
to understand the value of supporting the university here and possibly other
ones elsewhere in Keelan and the other clans.”

Sistian
raised a hand. “That’s getting too far ahead for now. Some clans hardly support
any scholastics at all, although I’m inclined to be positive about trying one
of these universities. Would it need to be housed here in the abbey complex or
outside, and how many additional scholastics would you envision?”

“I
suggest a new building near the abbey, and I was thinking of adding twenty-five
additional scholastics. With your permission, we could call it the University
of Abersford.”

“Hmmm,
I think the abbey could manage that. Would you envision specific topics of
study?”

“I
suggest three broad areas. One would be what my people call ‘biology,’ the
study of living organisms. Included would be topics related to medicant
knowledge and agriculture.”

 
And
an avenue to introduce more physiology, anatomy, biochemistry, genetics, and
everything else I can dig out of my memory
.

“The
second would be mathematics. My impression from Cadwulf is that there’re several
of the better mathematics scholastics scattered around Caedellium he thinks we
could convince to move to Abersford, thereby giving us a strong group right
from the start.”