Alan Foster - The Icerigger Trilogy

“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.