The Icerigger Trilogy: Icerigger, Mission to Moulokin, and The Deluge Drivers (71 page)

“ ’Tis me alone he seeks out,” Teeliam went on sadly. “He cannot stand the thought I may finally have escaped him. I would kill myself here save that he would be more furious still at being deprived of the pleasures he doubtless has spent these past days planning.” Fur rippled nervously as muscles tensed.

“Come what will, in fairness I must go back to him.” Her gaze rose, traveled from human eyes to Tran. “If I do this, he may depart.”

“I do not understand,” said K’ferr slowly, gaining more knowledge from something behind Teeliam’s eyes than from her words. “It was said that Rakossa demands also crew and ship of you.”

“Yes, he desires them, but will be satisfied with me.”

“He may be,” Ethan admitted, sounding more heartless than he intended, “but Calonnin Ro-Vijar will not.” He tossed a brief explanation over his shoulder to the staring Mirmib and K’ferr: “Ro-Vijar is Landgrave of distant Arsudun, an ally of Rakossa’s in spirit if not material.”

“It is not right that an entire city risk war for one person.” Teeliam sounded resigned. “I will suffer whatever Rakossa has concocted for me.” She made the Tran equivalent of a resigned shrug. “It cannot be worse than what I have endured before.”

“We will not,” Hunnar said tensely, “turn you over to the madman. Sofold does not sacrifice the innocent for the sake of expediency. Besides, as Ethan says, doing so may not sate Rakossa anyway. Of course,” and he turned to face the throne, “ ’tis not properly our decision to make.”

K’ferr had left the throne and was pacing once again. Almost absently she said, “This business of turning over your companion to Rakossa is a waste of time. We would never consider such a thing, nor permit you to do it even should that be your wish. There are more important matters to discuss.” She looked to her minister.

“So the Poyos would challenge us here, at our own door, in our canyon, on our ice. Further proof of this Rakossa’s insanity. Arrogance dilutes sense as
vouli
thins strong drink. If they are in truth foolish enough to attack the gate, we will give them a welcome they will not outlive.”

“If you’re determined to fight, we’d better ready our own people,” Ethan said. “With your permission, and our deepest thanks, my Lady, we’ll return to our raft.”

“Do we permit them to enter the first gate and trap them between, or stop them at the first with arrows and spears?” The compassionate Landgrave was deep in discussion of life-shortening methods with her minister. Mirmib had presence enough to dismiss the visitors.

Ethan rose from his place at the long table in the
Slanderscree
’s galley-cum-conference room. “We can’t let them have Teeliam, and it doesn’t seem right to let the Moulokinese fight and die over something they’ve had nothing to do with.” Teeliam was not present to object to the first part of his statement, having been excluded from the meeting over her protests. She was too biased to render objective suggestions, Hunnar had informed her, a bias which even extended to condemning herself to death.

“Me, I’d rather welcome a chance to dally with this Rakossa and his pack.” September leaned back in his Tran-sized chair. Not designed for his greater weight, it creaked alarmingly beneath him. He rubbed his pinnacle of a proboscis.

“I know you would, Skua. Sometimes you act more Tran than human.”

September grinned, moving the hand from nose crest to white mane, and scratched. “Lad, when you’ve seen as much of the galaxy as I, you’ll know there’s nothin’ especially flattering about laying claim to being part of mankind.”

“No, friend Skua.” September looked with surprise at Elfa. The Landgrave’s daughter had seemed anything but pacific. Now was an odd time for appeasing attitudes to surface.

Appeasement was not what Elfa had in mind, however. “Ethan is correct when he says this is not the Moulokinese fight. We cannot ask them to die for us.”

“But didn’t you see the way that K’ferr cat was actin’?” September argued. “She’s spoilin’ for a confrontation and bloodshed.”

“Surely, my lady,” said a disbelieving Hunnar, “you cannot be thinking of turning Teeliam over to the monster?”

“Quite so, noble knight. I cannot be.” Elfa’s eyes swept over the table. “But suppose Rakossa and Calonnin knew the
Slanderscree
was not here?”

“Not wishin’ to appear condescendin’, gal, but you heard what that soldier said back in the throne room.” September’s nails were mere stubs compared to Tran claws, but he etched a shallow groove in the hardwood table nonetheless. “No ship could make the chiv marks in the ice outside the canyon that the
Slanderscree
could.”

“No known ship,” admitted Elfa. “Yet there are many regions of this world that the Poyos, much as ourselves until recently, know nothing of. This would be true also of distant Arsudun. How could they be certain our tracks are not those of another ship, say a great towed barge long since dismantled for its wood by the Moulokinese?”

“Not impossible, my lady,” put in Ta-hoding. “But how could we convince the attackers of this?”

Elfa looked embarrassed. “I had not considered that far. Could we not hide our craft while representatives of the Poyolavomaar fleet inspect Moulokin’s harbor?”

“Hide this vessel?” Hunnar executed a high Trannish laugh.

“No, let’s think this through, Hunnar?’ September appeared thoughtful. “The lady, she has a point.”

“What if,” Ethan said after a moment of introspective silence, “we took the ship apart. Yeah, took it apart and put the sections up on the plateau. The Poyo representatives would never think of looking up there.”

“And with good reason.” Hunnar tried hard not to sneer. “ ’Tis a most marvelous proposal, friend Ethan, save that it would take the whole population of the city in addition to our own crew working several weeks to accomplish such a task, even if the Moulokinese have heavy engines enough to raise the large timbers and masts. We have but four days.”

“No, wait a minute, now.” September leaned forward, speaking with controlled excitement. “What the lad suggests makes sense, but in a different way. We need to get the rigger up on the plateau, and a really fair distance inland in case the Poyos
do
insist on lookin’ there, something this Rakossa is likely to try. Since we can’t do it in sections, we need to move her intact.”

Murmurs of polite astonishment came from several of the Tran seated around the table.

“Suppose we sail her to the upper end of the main canyon, Captain.” His attention was directed at the intent Ta-hoding. “I’m kind o’ curious to meet these Golden Saia folks myself.” Ethan threw him a questioning glance. Had Skua, despite his initial disclaimers, been as intrigued by the mysterious Saia as Ethan and Milliken Williams?

“Now with all the forces actin’ on the land there, it’s a fair assumption that the land of these Saias slopes fairly gently inland.”

“Given that it does, friend September, and I intend no disrespect, but—what of this?” Hunnar waited to be convinced of he knew not what.

“I was on a world once,” the giant said reminiscently, “similar to this one. Only the oceans were covered with grass—sort of an anemic pika-pina, Hunnar, like they say grows inland here—and there were sailin’ ships akin to the
Slanderscree.
They sailed easy over those green oceans, on wheels instead of skates.”

“What,” inquired Hunnar blankly, “is a wheel?”

Ethan sat stunned. The Tran had achieved such a high level of civilization that he’d taken an invention as basic as the wheel for granted. Now that he thought back on it, nowhere in Sofold could he recall seeing a wheeled vehicle; not a cart, not a wagon, nothing. Everything traveled on chiv, or skates. Dry land transport was by means of sledges, used as little as possible. And they had no need for wheels, after all, in a land where icepaths were easily constructed and frozen seas surrounded every city-state.

He finally found an example to serve as illustration. “Like the millstones, Hunnar, you use for making meal from dried pika-pina and juice from its pulp. Like the,” and he had to use the Tran term for steering control to refer to the
Slanderscree
’s own great ship’s wheel. “You place them apart like so, with a supporting beam between like those that connect our ship’s skates and they carry you smoothly across unfrozen lands.”

“This is surely an awkward way of traveling,” Hunnar admitted, brows contorting in confusion, “yet if you say the thing works, it must be so.”

“It’s a proven method,” replied Ethan without smiling. At least Hunnar and the other Tran had the idea now.

“We will need,” Williams began, already drawing designs and measuring stresses in his head, “additional axles to place beneath the ship. While the five duralloy skates now positioned beneath us are sufficient to support the icerigger’s mass, I have less confidence in stone or wooden wheels, and that is the best the Moulokinese could construct. They have good quality timber. Perhaps they can be metal-reinforced, if the work of these Saia is as fine as they claim.”

“Why not just make metal wheels?” wondered one ship’s mate.

“Assuming these Saia are indeed not gods, they would do extraordinarily well to manufacture one wheel of such size in only four days,” Ta-hoding pointed out gruffly. Gentle of demeanor when speaking to his superiors or the three humans, the icerig-ger’s captain could be harsh whenever he thought one of his own crew guilty of stupidity.

“With stone or wooden wheels then,” the teacher continued, calculating all the while, “we’d need additional axles for additional wheels.”

“Plenty of trees big enough,” September agreed. “They’ll be a lot easier to cut and attach than takin’ the ship apart would be. Of course,” and his excitement grew tempered by thoughtfulness, “this is all assumin’ the Moulokinese are willing to make ’em for us. I expect they will. I’m sure most of ’em would prefer to work a little harder rather than fight. A saw usually sheds less blood than a spear.”

“You speak a truth which I suspect extends beyond my own world, friend September.” Hunnar regarded the giant somberly. “There are those who do not share your opinion and mine of fighting.” He looked around the table. “There is also the question of obtaining permission from these Saia, whatever they may be, to travel through their lands. Given all this, I will defer a personal desire to shed Poyo blood.”

K’ferr Shri-Vehm also had to be convinced. It took considerable persuasion by minister Mirmib to talk her out of opting for the bloodthirsty path. That accomplished, orders were issued for an orgy of work to commence.

The industrious Moulokinese took the enormous assignment as a challenge to their skills. When the first evening fell, lights were brought out to permit the work to continue. The central shipyard reeked of old oil. From a distance, it looked as if the
Slanderscree
rested in a pool of fire.

Huge trees, cut and stored for use as masts on other rafts, were already available to serve as subsidiary axles. Metal bolts made by the Saia were brought out and used to help pika-pina cable secure axle to ship. Four new axles were emplaced between the fore and aft pairs of duralloy runners beneath the motionless icerigger.

Hours passed, became days. The metal-sheathed and reinforced wheels were bolted onto the four new axles. Then the runners were removed, first the pair fore and then the two aft. Wheels slightly larger than the eight already attached were placed on the runner shafts. Finally, the fifth runner, used for steering, was replaced by a steering wheel.

As expected, a brief experiment revealed that the resultant hybrid was as maneuverable on ice as a greased two-year-old. There was no way it could make any distance upcanyon against the steady, powerful winds that blew down off the plateau. The wheels would simply spin in place as the icerigger was shoved into the first cliff behind it.

Seven of the largest rafts in the harbor—and the Moulokinese built respectably big ones—were detailed to tow the helpless
Slanderscree
upcanyon, to the end of the ice. To the land of the Golden Saia. From there it could begin its slow journey inland.

Mirmib, however, could not give assurance to Ethan and the others of safe passage through the thermal regions. A representative hastily dispatched to acquire such assurances had returned, typically dehydrated and exhausted, to report that the Saia chose not to comment on the question. They had not given guarantee of safe conduct, nor had they denied it. Their sole response had been an indifferent silence.

In the absence of denial, it was decided to proceed.

“They have strange powers and commune regularly with the spirits of the interior,” a solemn Mirmib informed the readying travelers. “You would do well to treat cautiously with them, and to avoid conflict at all costs. In addition, they might offer much more information on the true conditions you can expect inland, though they abhor it more than we do.”

It was night as Mirmib addressed them. They were standing on the long dock paralleling the almost-finished, almost converted icerigger. Ethan and Hunnar were alone among a rushing current of preoccupied craftsmen.

Winches were carefully loading the last of the five removed duralloy runners aboard the ship. Hopefully, they would find another sloping canyon far away. Ethan found himself shivering as the minus sixty temperature pressed at his survival suit’s adjustive potentials. On locating another such canyon they would once more replace the duralloy runners, remove the wheels, and set off for a new location, perhaps distant Yealleat. As Ta-hoding had pointed out, the stars were a Tran icemaster’s principal guide to navigation, and the stars remained constant over land as well as ice.

They were loading final stores the next morning when a small raft came racing into the harbor, heeling dangerously to port as its crew hiked to maximum for top speed. She disgorged a single officer, who hauled himself up a boarding ladder with impressive speed despite the blood filtering through the fur over his left eye. The four sailors sprawled exhaustedly on the deck of the little raft looked equally battered.

“The Poyos have not waited,” the officer explained to the rapidly growing group of listeners clustering around him. “This is the fourth day and they attacked two
hoid
ago, no doubt hoping to catch us. offguard and by surprise.” The bleeding soldier permitted himself a vicious smile. “They did not, though they are stronger than we thought.” He recognized Hunnar among the assembled Tran.