Bob Shaw - The Fugitive Worlds

Cassyll stood up as a tipstaff opened the door and pounded the floor with his metal-shod rod to announce the arrival of the Queen. Daseene came into the room, dismissed the two ladies-in-waiting who had accompanied her as far as the door, and went to her chair. She was thin and frail-looking, seemingly burdened by the weight of her green silk robes, but there was undiminished authority in the way in which she signaled for the others to be seated.

“Thank you for your attendance here this foreday,” she said in a reedy but firm voice. “I know you have many demands upon your time, so we will go straight to the business of the meeting. As you are already aware, I have received an advance dispatch from the Land expedition. Its contents may be summarized as follows.” Daseene went on to describe the expedition’s findings in detail, doing so without hesitation or reference to notes. When she had finished she surveyed the group, eyes intent beneath the pearl-beaded coif without which she never appeared in public. As had happened before, it occurred to Cassyll that Daseene could if required have taken over the rulership of Kolcorron at any stage in her husband’s career and coped well with the task. It was perhaps surprising that she had usually chosen to remain in the background, except in a few cases where women’s rights had been concerned.

“I think you have already divined my purpose in calling this meeting,” she went on, speaking in formal High Kolcorronian. “In view of the fact that I shall have a full report from the expedition commanders in only three days from now, you may consider my actions precipitate—but I have reached a stage in life at which I am loathe to waste so much as a single hour.

“I intend to send a fleet to Land without delay.

“It is my intention to establish Ro-Atabri as a living capital again before I die; therefore I require decisions from you this very foreday. I also expect the practical work of implementing those decisions to begin as soon as the coming littlenight has ended. So let us be about our work, gentlemen! My first question for you is: how large should the fleet be? You first, Lord Cassyll—what are your views?”

Cassyll blinked as he rose to his feet. This was the style of rulership developed by the late King Chakkeli to suit the needs of pioneers on a new world, and he was not at all sure that it was apposite in the present situation.

“Your Majesty, as loyal subjects we all share your views about reclaiming the Old World, but may I respectfully point out that we are not in a state of dire emergency such as prevailed at the time of the Migration? As yet, we have no proof that the whole of Land is available to us, so the prudent course would be to follow up the first expedition with a primarily military force equipped with airships which could be reassembled on Land and used to circumnavigate and survey the planet.”

Daseene shook her head. “That course is too prudent for me, and I have no time for it—your father would not have counseled me thus.”

“My father’s day has passed, Majesty,” Cassyll said.

“Perhaps it has, perhaps it hasn’t, but I take your point about the airships. I propose to send… four. How does that number sound to you?”

Cassyll gave a slight bow, expressing irony. “That number sounds very good to me, Majesty.”

Daseene gave him a faint twisted smile to show that she had not missed the nuance, then addressed herself to Bartan Drumme. “Do you foresee any great difficulty in transporting airships to Land aboard skyships?”

“No, Majesty,” Bartan said, standing up. “We could adapt small airship gondolas to serve as skyship gondolas for the single crossing. On arrival on Land it would simply be a matter of disconnecting the balloons and replacing them with airship gasbags.”

“Excellent! That is the sort of positive attitude I like in my advisers.” Daseene looked meaningfully at Cassyll. “Now, my lord, how many skyships can be made ready for the crossing within, say, fifty days?”

Before Cassyll could speak Bartan coughed and said, “Forgive me, Majesty, I have something to report… a new development… something I feel should be brought to your attention at this point.”

“Has it any bearing on the discussions in hand?”

Bartan shot Cassyll a worried glance. “It probably has, Majesty.”

“In that case,” Daseene said impatiently, “you had better speak, but do it quickly.”

“Majesty, I … A new world has been discovered in our own planetary system.”

“A new world?” Daseene frowned. “What are you prattling about, Mister Drumme? There can’t be a new world.”

“I have observed it with my own eyes, Majesty. A blue planet … a fourth world in our local system…” The normally fluent Bartan was floundering as Cassyll had never seen him do before.

“How big is it?”

“We cannot decide that until we are sure how far away it is.”

“Very well then.” Daseene sighed. “How far away is this infant world of yours?”

Bartan looked deeply unhappy. “We cannot calculate that until we—”

“Until you know its size,” the Queen cut in. “Mister Drumme! We are all indebted to you for that little excursion into the marvelously exact science of astronomy, but it is my earnest wish that you should confine your remarks to the subject already in hand. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Majesty,” Bartan mumbled, sinking down on to the bench.

“Now…” Daseene suddenly shivered, drew her robes closer together at her throat and looked about the room. “No wonder we freeze to death in here! Who opened that window? Close it immediately before we perish from the cold.”

Lord Sectar, lips moving silently, got up and closed the window. His embroidered jacket was heavily stained with sweat and he was ostentatiously mopping his brow as he returned to his place.

“You don’t look well,” Daseene told him tersely. “You should see a doctor.” She returned her attention to Cassyil and repeated her question about the number of skyships that could be available within fifty days.

“Twenty,” Cassyil said at once, deciding that an optimistic estimate was called for while the Queen was in her present mood. As head of the Sky Service Supplies Board he was in a good position to judge the quantity of ships and associated materiel which could be made ready for an interplanetary crossing as well as being spared from normal function. Ever since the discovery that Farland was inhabited a number of defensive stations had been maintained in the weightless zone midway between the two sister worlds. For some years the great wooden structures had been manned, but as public fears of an attack from Farland had gradually abated the crews had been withdrawn. Now the stations and their attendant groups of fighter jets were maintained by means of regular balloon ascents to the weightless zone. The schedule of flights was undemanding, and Cassyil estimated that about half the ships in the Sky Service fleet were available for extraordinary duties.

“Twenty ships,” Daseene said, looking slightly disappointed. “Still, I suppose that’s enough to be getting on with.”

“Yes, Majesty—especially as we are not obliged to think in terms of an invasion fleet. One can foresee continuous traffic between Overland and Land, sparse at first, but gradually building up until—”

“It’s no use, Lord Cassyil,” the Queen interrupted. “Again you are advocating a sedate approach to this enterprise, and again I say to you I have no time for that. The return to Land has to be decisive, forceful, triumphant … a clear-cut statement which posterity cannot misread…

“It may help you to gauge the strength of my feelings in the matter if I tell you that I have just given one of my granddaughters—the Countess Vantara—permission to take part in the reclamation. She is an experienced airship captain, and will be able to play a useful role in the initial survey of the planet.”