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Chapter the 4th.
The Ship Returns:
One Nameless,Tattered, Broken Man
Though giant rains put out the sun,
Here stand I for a sign, Though Earth be filled with waters dark, My cup is filled with wine.
Tell to the trembling priests that here Under the deluge rod, One nameless, tattered, broken man Stood up and drank to G.o.d.
"The Deluge"
G.K. Chesterton
The next morning the wet, rainy world slowly, sullenly dawned, and the men of Westerness began to stir. Every man in their little company was exhausted to the bone. The rain was still warm, but it was beginning to outlast its welcome.
The wounded lay in the few dry s.p.a.ces that could still be found within the hold of their little cutter. Beneath the branches of the mighty trees were more dry patches where the rest of the company slept.
As they began to move around, some of them found that they had company. Somewhere in the night, soft little spider monkeys had joined them. Melville had his. Petreckski had one. Chief Hans and even Sergeant Broadax literally had monkeys on their backs.
For Melville it was an eerie feeling. He'd turn his head, and there'd be an upside-down face staring solemnly back at him. Broadax seemed slightly embarra.s.sed by hers, but she opted to ignore it, acting as though it wasn't there.
Little Aquinar still slept in his hammock, a full five yards off the ground, warm and dry next to the bole of a great tree. His little fawn-colored monkey still clung tightly to his neck. Dozens of other monkeys also shared his hammock, sleeping contentedly.
Melville didn't have the heart to awaken the little midshipman, but he did climb up to be sure the boy was still alive, that the monkeys hadn't killed him in his sleep. Melville was horrified at the boy's peril, but he was their best amba.s.sador to the little monkeys. Aquinar was a boy, but he was also a warrior and the right man for this job. Like a loving father checking on his young child in the middle of the night, Melville watched to see that the boy still breathed. Rea.s.sured, and observed by sleepy monkeys who seemed completely unbothered by his presence, he slid back down.
At this point the huge Corporal Kobbsven strode up to Melville. He was clearly a man with a mission. "Sir! I am happy to report that there is now vater in the vell that vee bin diggin'!"
Blink. " . . . Yes. Good. Thank you, Corporal."
Their first duty that day was to bury their dead. Everyone took turns digging the graves of their comrades. Melville took his turn and made sure that each of his young midshipmen did as well. Little Aquinar awoke and descended from above in time to help dig one of the dogs' graves.
Six large holes and four smaller ones were dug. The bodies of their comrades were lovingly wrapped in sailcloth shrouds and lowered one-by-one into the graves. They'd traveled far across the sh.o.r.eless seas of Flatland to reach this world, and now they'd be planted here. They would gain immortality in this land that they had discovered and died to defend. Immortality such as every sailor dreamed of. Future settlers would remember their names. Cities and mountains would be named after them. It would be a fit and proper ending for one who traveled the hidden land forlorn. Provided their mother ship returned and their sacrifice was not in vain.
Now it was Melville's time to say Words. He'd never felt so inadequate. All he could do was reach back into their heritage and set forth the Words, those ancient Words. Ten thousand applications to the griefs of a thousand years had carved these Words into their cultural consciousness. Thereby giving them the power to heal and strengthen lives in times of sorrow and loss.
Melville's personal hero, the warrior poet Lord Wavell, once wrote that, "Long funeral pieces . . . become tedious . . . by their length. Heavy mourning, deep black edges, long widowhood, unrestrained grief are out of fashion, as they must be to a generation which has indulged in . . . war." The key was "economy of words."
And so Melville chose simply to say this, as his company looked on. Above them countless thousands of monkeys, like a heavenly chorus of fawn-colored, eight-legged angels, also gazed solemnly from the trees.
"Here dead lie we because we did not choose
To live and shame the land from which we sprung.
Life to be sure is nothing much to lose;
But young men think it is, and we were young."
He turned to Petreckski. "Brother Theo," he asked, "could you say a few words?" The crew wasn't a particularly religious bunch. Yet, like the sailors of Old Earth, most of the men who sail in two-s.p.a.ce have some spiritual aspect to them They came from many and diverse faiths, but when the mystery of life and death was upon them, the Words of a cleric, even an unordained monk like Petreckski, could be comforting.
Like Melville, Petreckski reached back to the old, strong Words that resonated in the heritage and souls of these lonely men on this distant, alien sh.o.r.e. In his clear, pure tenor voice he began to sing a song that was a particular favorite to sailors, and the company joined in.
"There's a land that is fairer than day,
And by faith we can see it afar;
For the Father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there.
In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful sh.o.r.e.
In the sweet by and by,
We shall sing on that beautiful sh.o.r.e,
And our spirits shall sorrow no more,
" . . . on that beautiful sh.o.r.e. Amen."
Then the dead were left to their own affairs, and the living got on with theirs. Or, as Old Hans put it, "Those who git ta live, should."
Only a few more days pa.s.sed before their Ship returned, not with joy, but with more sorrow and tribulations. With yet more challenges for young lieutenant Melville.
"Sir! Sir!" called Midshipman Archer. "Kestrel has returned! Lieutenant Fielder has come down!"
Lieutenant Daniel Fielder and two sailors had descended from two-s.p.a.ce, and were striding down the hill. The rain had finally stopped but clouds still hung low in the sky. The wounded were laid out to take the air.
Fielder was dark haired, thick set, with a florid face and bushy sideburns. He was junior in rank to Melville, but he'd spent many more years as a midshipman and was the older man. Melville always considered him to be a bit of a bully, and now Fielder tried to a.s.sert the authority of his years. "My G.o.d, Melville, everything has gone straight to h.e.l.l, and now you've made a hash of it here!" he said, looking at the wounded. "Your company has been torn to h.e.l.l!"
Perhaps Fielder would have succeeded in turning the men from Melville, but every heart was turned against him the moment this mean-spirited insult left his lips. He severed all chance of winning them over with one further thoughtless comment, as he looked at the little eight-legged monkey peering over Melville's shoulder with its comical upside-down face. "And what is that clinging to your necks? We've been in a running battle, the Ship is shot to h.e.l.l and here you are playing with the local critters? Have you all gone native?" The monkey and Melville turned their heads to look at each other, and it seemed as though they were sharing the same thoughts as they nodded to each other reflectively.
Lieutenant Fielder continued his rant, "We were attacked without warning by an overwhelming force of Guldur. We gave them the slip, but they will be upon us in a few hours. The Kestrel is dying. Everyone senior to us is dead. A third of the crew is dead or wounded. I'm in charge. We have to abandon ship. We'll flee down to this world and scuttle the Ship. Then we'll uproot the Pier. That's the only way we can be safe. We have to hurry!"
Melville was stunned but he quickly rallied. In the end it was protocol, procedures and principle that empowered him. He replied softly, "Aye, we can evacuate the seriously wounded. But if Captain Crosby and the first officer are dead then I am senior to you, Mr. Fielder, and I will make the decisions here. I will inspect the Ship and the crew while you begin movement of the wounded."
Fielder screamed, "You're insane! We can't fight! I told you, the enemy force is overwhelming, our Ship is dying!"
Melville became even more calm. "I'll judge that for myself. If we are capable of inflicting damage upon our foe, then we are duty bound to do so."
"Now I know you're mad! You're filled with your poetry and it has twisted your brain!"
Melville took a deep breath and tried to reply calmly. He raised his voice so that he could be heard clearly by the sailors and marines around them, "If anything has influenced me, I hope it's duty and honor. Aye, as befits a warrior of Westerness. Duty and honor haven't 'twisted' me, they have shaped me so that I cannot and will not turn from a fight while we have the means to hurt our foe. I am the senior man here Mr. Fielder, and you will by G.o.d obey my orders!" Then Melville turned his back and walked away. Like all bullies, Fielder backed down when the odds were against him.
"Lady Elphinstone?" Melville asked their surgeon as he walked into the aid station.
"Yes?" she responded, stepping forward.
"Decide who among your charges can be released immediately for light duty, and have them sent up to Kestrel. Then join us on the Kestrel and evacuate anyone who is too injured to a.s.sist in battle." She calmly nodded her a.s.sent.
"Mr. Crater?"
"Sir!"
"Work with Sergeant Broadax and the marine detail. You'll be responsible for the movement of all wounded from the Kestrel. Draft the marines on the Ship if you need a.s.sistance. Evacuate only the individuals the surgeon designates." He looked briefly at Midshipman Crater, but mostly he watched for the marine sergeant to nod her understanding.
"Yes, sir!"
"Mr. Archer?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You work with our sailors to set up the rigging to lower the wounded down onto the Pier. Work with Chief Petty Officer Hans, but release him to me as soon as you're sure that you can complete the task on your own. I will be inspecting the Ship. Don't draft any a.s.sistance from the Ship for this duty. Complete this duty as quickly as you can and then return all sailors to their sections aboard the Ship." Again, Melville was addressing and looking at Archer, but he was also watching for Hans' nod.
"Mr. Aquinar, you stay with me."
"Aye, sir!"
"Does everyone understand?" There was a chorus of a.s.sent. He thought briefly about what to do with Fielder. The man seemed out of his mind with panic and dread. Best to keep him here while Melville a.s.sumed command of the Kestrel.
"Lieutenant Fielder?" Melville asked. Fielder had been following Melville around, keeping a slight distance. Now his only response was to glare at Melville. "I'd value your appraisal of our situation here. Please speak with Brother Petreckski and the rangers, they will give you their account of all edible plants and creatures. Their input will be vital as to whether we can stay here indefinitely. I hope to make a fresh a.s.sessment of the situation on our Ship, and certainly your outside a.s.sessment of the situation here will be of value."
This indication that Melville was keeping an open mind to the possibility of evacuating to this world seemed to mollify Fielder. "Very well," he replied, "but you'll see, the situation on the Ship is hopeless." Melville looked at the purser and the rangers, and felt confident that they'd keep the lieutenant occupied. He strode up the hill accompanied by Broadax, Hans, and the middies. Elphinstone joined them, having already designated three of her patients for light duty.
They approached the Keel of the old Swish-tail, now standing like a flagpole, or a mast, surrounded by a platform of white Nimbrell timbers. Melville scrambled up the ladder to the top of the platform, dropped to one knee, placed a hand upon the Keel and concentrated.
">" He turned and saw Sergeant Broadax beam with pride and joy, inhaling deeply on her cigar. He saw the others nod their heads in agreement. Even Swish-tail, now Broadax's World, agreed completely. The Keel was made of a mysterious material carefully guarded by the secretive Celebrimbor shipwrights. This cla.s.s of shipwrights existed in every race that sailed the seas of Flatland, and the men of Old Earth had joined that club. Ah, but at such a price, thought Melville. The "Crash" was the admission fee the Elder King claimed for Earth to join that club. One end of the Keel was planted in the living earth. The other end disappeared up into two-s.p.a.ce. Nothing of the Kestrel or Flatland could be seen from here, except for a rope ladder that hung down from the Ship above, seeming to be suspended in thin air. It occurred to Melville that before he climbed up the ladder he should send his monkey on its way. He'd be sad to see the soft, gentle creature go, but it would be cruel to s.n.a.t.c.h it from its green home into impending battle. Broadax, Hans, and the three middies also moved to set down the baby monkeys that had adopted them. Prior to this the monkeys always permitted themselves to be set aside whenever their presence was unwelcome. Now the result was a comical, ludicrous dance as each of the sailors tried to grab a monkey that didn't want to be grabbed. The monkeys scampered round and about, up the Pier and back onto a shoulder. They were now in front, now down between legs, then they scrambled under jackets to hang just out of reach between shoulder blades. Melville braced himself against the Keel to grab his monkey and he felt Swish-tail say, "Aye," said Hans, " 'Of'n the unbidden guest proves the best company.' " Melville grabbed the rope ladder and scrambled up, followed by old Hans. His head popped into two-s.p.a.ce and lo!, "the gray rain-curtain turned all to silver gla.s.s and was rolled back." And he beheld once again the stunning beauty of the "hidden land forlorn." His ears were caressed again by that strange music, the celestial sounds of Flatland, and his eyes were bathed anew in the endless, vivid blue expanse of the "sh.o.r.eless seas." Maxfield Parrish had known these blues. To the east was light, sunrise blue where this solar system's star was influencing the vast plain of Flatland. Immediately around him was a small patch of blue-green that indicated a living world. To the south, west, and north Flatland began to darken into deep blue. In the distance he could see the midnight blue between solar systems. In the far distance he could see the sunrise blue of distant suns, blending together into a brightness that stretched all the way round the far horizon.