The Gostum Sirl sat on the floor at command headquarters, huddled with her companions next to the fire. The sound of the slow, swinging pendulum was almost lost in the constant creaking of the newly built structure. She kept an eye on the clock, which ticked off the clads, belclads, and telclads, the new constant telclads, as she had been told. At the sound of a dull gong, Sirl stared straight at the clock, just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken, and rose to her feet. She put on her thick boots and then another pair, threw on an outer parka, and picked up her spear in gloved hands. Sirl walked through the double doors, closing the inner one before opening the outer, and left her companions by their warm fire.
As the wind whipped around her, carrying stinging snow, the little snow that wasn’t frozen fast to the ground, she grabbed hold of the guy line that would mark her path and keep her on her feet. Ahead of her, beyond the whipping snow, a few bright stars were mounted on dark gray. Behind her was a lightening sky, the stars to the west well obscured by the coming sunrise. The ceremonies would be held any beclad now—as to which beclad, that was for the astronomers to worry about. Her concern was to follow the rope a kilometer through hellish winds and relieve the watch at the base of the citadel.
Relend, too, was aware of the lightening sky as he and his two companions pressed close to the fire at the mouth of an old mine that overlooked Triesk. He glanced up at the huge horn swaying in the wind from its wooden post and knew that if he had to use it now, the sound would never be heard. As was his duty, Relend kept an eye on the city itself. It was now white on white, and virtually any detail was wiped clean. If there had been any activity below, he had missed it in the snow and grayness of early morning. He saw several figures poling their way up the hill and watched his end of the guy line tense and relax under the approaching hands. He was glad he was being relieved.
Pike steadied himself by Number Three against the fierce wind and through the small hole in his long hood watched the astronomer take the sunrise. He nodded to his assistant, who ran inside the command building to check the clock. Pike turned back to see the giant icicle that had formed on the exhaust tubes of the shuttle fall to the ground with a drowned-out crash.
Alhane, at one end of the city, and Benjfold and others, at the opposite end, made checks and attempted repairs on the windmills. The sound of banging hammers was lost in the crazed howl, and they could be sure their activity was disguised by the simplest of camouflage: white quazzats. The only limitation to the work was the high wind that did its best to knock the Tjenens to the ground, compounded by that same wind’s own screech, which pierced their ears and made thinking unbearable.
With his telescope Alhane studied the Gostum headquarters sitting a kilometer away and saw the soldiers trying to position a front line almost directly below the city. He watched the tiny figures digging, chopping into rock-hard ground and attempting to drive in stakes for future tents. Then he glanced up at the sun, now almost fully above the horizon. He nodded to himself and began directing placement of the mirrors.
Effrulyn had finished taking the Angles and had just pronounced a favorable outcome when the guard Relend appeared at the entrance to the command room.
Yes, do you have a report?
Pike asked.
Commander, there is some activity on top of the
city. The populace have not yet come Above, but they must certainly know of
our presence.
Pike nodded brusquely. Karrxlyn, have the city
surrounded at once.
Alhane, as Time Keeper, once again stood by his traditional post and snuffed out the candles while the Tjenens emerged from the Gateway, one by one. They were armed with long bows, crossbows, swords, and spears. He was not surprised to see the debris poking its way through drifts of sparkling snow, nor surprised at the absence of a shadow on the mounds of the snow-covered sundial; the gnomon, as well as most of the meeting tent, was gone. He doubted that the gnomon would be repaired this Bannk, if ever. Alhane would judge the sun with his eye, and it was now several diameters into the sky.
Alhane was not even surprised when he reached the city wall with throngs of people trailing behind him and peered over the edge at the Gostum army arrayed below him, thousands of warriors standing in concentric circles around the acropolis.
Kenken Wer stood beside him scanning the flanks of Gostum and their allies. A figure atop a tall grask struggled against the wind, was blown over, stood up, and walked the rest of the way to the base of the citadel. He called up to them, but his voice was small and carried in the wrong direction. Alhane opened the nearest gate and walked down the steps to the man so that he could hear him.
I come from the Commander of the Gostum
army. We order Triesk to surrender at once the secret of the rockets and of
the stala or be reduced to rubble.
Alhane returned to the top and latched the gate behind him. They want the rockets. If all they want is the rockets,
why don’t we give them the rockets?
Do you believe they will stop at that?
Kenken Wer responded.
I don’t know, but we’d be a lot safer that way.
Are you sure?
No. I am sure of very little now.
Then let us ask the rest of Ta-tjenen.
Kenken Wer turned and shouted out the terms to the crowd, finishing with Do you wish to surrender to the Gostum?
Alhane doubted that many of the nearest heard her. But the shout that arose expanded and amplified as it traveled the crooked streets to the plaza and the farthest gates. It was deafeningly negative. Nothing but solidarity could ever be expected from Ta-tjenen.
Alhane descended from the citadel again until he reached the emissary. No,
he sighed, and hoped that the shake of his head
was visible if his voice could not be heard. No, I
am afraid not. We do not accept.
Alhane once more climbed the stairs,
took one brief look at Kenken Wer, and walked away to begin repairs on his
house. He had not progressed far before a small girl ran up to him and
handed him a message.
Alhane,
it read, I once
knew a girl, briefly, younger than I even. And although I knew her but
briefly, I came to feel that she instinctively knew how to act. She said
little, thought quietly, but always seemed to know the right thing
to do. Then she acted, positively, no looking back. I am not so gifted as
to always sense the right thing. The situation we are in is largely my
fault. Perhaps my trip south will yet prove to be of some value. I have
taken three companions, old nestas and another, and have gone to Glintz. I
am known there and they will come to our aid. At least let us hope that. I
must make up for the trouble I have caused. Now I have acted, no looking
back. You can be sure my escape was made good. I love you. Taljen.
Alhane threw down the note and walked clear to the east end of the city,
slipping over warming snow, skipping over fallen posts, and dodging
still-collapsing houses. Why had Taljen done such a reckless thing? He
looked down the shore road and could not convince himself that he saw
anyone. But he did see the shore itself, several kilometers away. The ice
was not yet cracked: the ocean surface was still a solid white. What had
Taljen expected to do, with an ocean like that? Lashgar be with you,
he mumbled. Indeed, as Taljen
must have suspected, there were few Gostum below on this side of the
city. But more would be there soon, in the shade of Ta-tjenen, where there
was no sun to blind them.
Sirl was in the first attack. The arrows raining down from above bounced off the metal of her shield or stuck into the leather padding. She pressed onward. Suddenly a bolt ripped through the entire shield and tore a gash into her arm. Her blood sprinkled the snow, which was now beginning to melt beneath her feet. Another bolt struck the man next to her; he fell, tumbling down the wide staircase. The wave of Gostum continued to rise with shouts and screams that filled the air. Sirl glanced beyond her shield and saw that the summit was not far.
Suddenly the wall above them lit up like the sun and Sirl couldn’t see. She clasped her hands over her eyes and fell backward down the steps, losing consciousness quickly.
Curious about the proceedings, Effrulyn had stood at the base of the hill amid onrushing soldiers. All at once he felt a little warmer and glanced up. The sun flashed in his eyes, momentarily destroying his vision. Effrulyn, dazed, walked back to the command post.
Alhane looked down from the parapet and nodded as he saw the Gostum army fleeing. He signaled his men to lower the polished reflectors and sat down in relief. If the Gostum fools waited until the sun was a little higher before attacking again, he would not only blind them but have them in flames as well. And since this was a Weird Bannk, the sun would be on his side for a long while, never too high, always within reach.
A whistling sound curved across the air and Alhane saw a nearby house burst
into flames, fanned by the wind. Tjenens began running toward it. Don’t use any water!
Alhane cried. Let it burn if it must. Knock down the other buildings
near it if you must. But we must save all our water!
Alhane sighed,
tightened his parka, and turned to one of his assistants. Let me know if they attack again. I have some work to
do.
Pike stood next to his grask amid excited captains.
Half our men are blind!
Karrxlyn shouted.
A trick worthy of ourselves.
Effrulyn nodded
with a laugh, which he quickly smothered under Karrxlyn’s glare and added,
But very trivial, you understand, and considering
their position, an inevitable defense to use. We should have expected
it.
Pike nodded. Have your men rest a beclad and then
reattack from the other side of the city. Meanwhile, continue the
bombardment and stake out the forward camp. The Trieskans will know that we
are here to stay.
But the wind is still strong—
Karrxlyn
protested.
Do as I say!
Karrxlyn saw the Commander’s figure towering above him and stalked off in the wet snow.
Despite the fact that dozens had died from the bolts of nearby crossbows, Benjfold could see that the Gostum would reach the gate very shortly. He glanced hopefully at the whirling windmill to his right. The first of the Gostum reached the summit and began pushing aside the wire fence. They screamed at its touch and jerked away, some falling and not standing up. Had Alhane’s mysterious coils and rotors really done that? More Gostum followed. Those who eluded the arrows and spears touched the electrified fence and, screaming, fled in terror down the hill. The struggle continued in this manner for half a beclad, until the entire army had retreated once more. Benjfold fired the last of his bolts, turned from the still largely frozen sea, and went off to seek sleep.
The Gostum flag whipped, shredded in the wind, above the command headquarters as once again Karrxlyn had a gloomy report for his Commander. He shut the door behind him and removed his gloves.
Commander, there is a magic fence surrounding the
city. It stuns, sometimes even kills, our men who touch it.
Pike walked outside and gazed at the citadel in the distance.
Effrulyn approached from behind. Someone is being
very clever. I suggest that we personally investigate these reports.
Pike nodded slowly, leaning on his spear. Yes, under
the circumstances…If I had any explosives left, the story would be
different.
But you do not, and we have encountered more than
the expected difficulties. The numbers are theirs, as any idiot who can
count could tell you. They have a clever defense and a good site for it as
well. But, Commander, you have them surrounded and they cannot get out. It
is just a matter of time. We could do nothing and still win eventually. You
might as well enjoy yourselves.
Any more suggestions, Mathematician?
Karrxlyn
growled.
The outcome of this is of little interest to
me. However, if you insist on remaining here, I suggest that in the first
place we keep up the bombardment and, in the second, investigate the source
of these odd defenses and see what can be done about them.
Effrulyn’s
attention was caught by the sight of a firebomb catapulting over the city
wall and crashing in the midst of the forward camp. It seems that Trieskans learn quickly, which is more
than I can say for some around here. We had better prepare for a long
stay.
The Commander nodded slowly and left Effrulyn standing alone on the field.
The Weird Bannk, the shortest of all the Bannks, moves slowly when one is laying siege to a stubborn city, but quickly, far too quickly, when one is the besieged and supplies grow scarce. The howl of the wind lessens, the frosted ice over the ocean begins to glisten, then to shine and then to crack. The blue underneath begins to peer through and clouds begin to form, the clouds that will eventually obscure the shadow of the sundial so that no one is unaware of the time. The sun itself has risen and the chill in the air has long worn off. Even though this is only the Weird Bannk, the sweat rolls freely as the great sundial indicates the second teclad is approaching its end here at Ta-tjenen. And, of course, the second teclad is longer than the first.
The fresh smell of resin from the fully opened pod-trees in the park mingled with the smell of decaying flesh. Benjfold wrapped the body of Kenken Wer in a cloth and struggled to lift it onto the pyre.
He recalled having seen her die at the Center, surrounded by many Tjenens
who had gathered in the meeting tent. Not having eaten for beclads, and
being well over ninety Patras, she had been very sick. She had shuddered as
a Gostum missile crashed near them on the plaza. She had looked at each of
them in turn, gazing into their eyes. There is
no future,
she had said, and then she died.
Benjfold walked away from the flames, coughing and reaching for his water flask. He unstoppered the neck and brought it up to his mouth, then thought better of it and lowered the flask. He licked his parched lips and wished for rain. But he knew that hope was a deceitful one and wished instead that he were dead.
He thought he heard shouting from the east and limped in that direction. Had the Gostum finally broken through? They had tried on many occasions, but the Time Keeper’s defenses still held. Alhane had managed to rig his mirrors on all sides of the citadel, and more than once the enemy had been temporarily routed by flames. But now the haze and the clouds made that defense less than perfect. The crossbows were still plentiful and the electrified fence had been extended, but even if that extension could keep them alive a bit longer, what was the purpose?
Benjfold pushed his way through the lines of Tjenens manning the walls until he reached the east gate. There he saw ships bobbing through occasional ice chunks, fighting the wind, making ready to land at Ta-tjenen.
We’ve been saved!
The cries went up.
But the cries did not last long. Part of the Gostum army was already marching along the shore road. They had eyes also. Within two telclads, the dust cloud was so thick that Benjfold could not see what was happening on the beach. In the confusion, the attention of the Gostum camped below was diverted to the new battle, and no one noticed a solitary figure making its way up the eastern steps. Benjfold picked up a bow and fitted an arrow. But no, was that Taljen? More cries went up and the gate was opened to let the cloaked girl pass.
Taljen! You got to Glintz!
A nod was the only reply. Someone pushed back the hood to reveal a gaunt, dirty face with half-closed eyes. It was Taljen.
Where are the others who went with you?
Dead.
Taljen pushed her way through the crowd of
friends, not bowing her head but not looking anyone in the eye.
Taljen,
Benjfold said, gently catching her by
the arm. Please tell us what happened.
Taljen laughed to herself, but this was no laugh that Benjfold had ever
heard. What is to tell? We skied on the ice in the
bitter wind and searched out still-hibernating animals for food. After the
ice cracked we walked on land in the sun and in the mud. By the time we got
to Glintz, I was the only one left. You can talk all you like but the time
for talk passed long ago. Now let me rest.
The noise level dropped and the crowd parted to let her pass. Taljen pulled up the hood on her cloak and walked away.
The council chamber was filled. Karrxlyn leaned forward with his elbow on the table and unstrapped a leather armguard. Fara-Ny sat shrunken in his chair. Like a dwarf on a throne, his badly fitting robes made him look even smaller. His staff, which was leaning against the seat, tottered and fell when the door slammed shut and the Commander strode in.
Effrulyn glanced up from his papers as a Pike, dripping with sweat, dropped down next to him and removed his helmet. Pike breathed heavily and Effrulyn unfastened his own cloak. The wind that blew in at the ceiling was of little comfort and the freshly painted white on the outside of the headquarters was but an occasional blessing.
The Bannk moves on,
Karrxlyn said, the shortest Bannk. And Triesk refuses to
surrender. You have not pressed the siege. You have not used any of your
advanced weapons or your explosives. Why is this?
Pike raised an eyebrow. I have no more
explosives. They were wasted in that stupid mining of the Massarat steps
which, I believe, was prompted by faulty information from you. I have a few
grasers and other sidearms which I will not allow to be used by ignorant
men. Ignorant men in any army are dangerous when given great power—
Karrxlyn tightened his fist.
—and I would not like to see your head blown off, or
my own, by an ignorant man playing with a toy that he does not
comprehend. And that goes for ignorant men on this side of the city wall or
the other.
Karrxlyn relaxed slightly. Then what will you
do?
Pike smiled. I am playing their game. They know they
cannot win. They know that they cannot now survive the coming Patra with
their forest burned out, so they intend for us to exterminate them
instead. I am doing exactly that. Why waste men on foolish attacks? Their
food must be low or gone. Have you seen the smoke, pyres for the dead? They
are dying. Disease always follows the heels of famine. Soon, when the
moment comes for the final push, that push will be an easy one. You asked
me to Command. Thus I am commanding.
Your comments bring to mind another problem,
Karrxlyn replied. Our men have seen the
smoke. They are reluctant to attack because it will mean their own death as
well as that of the Trieskans.
As I have said, Triesk is on the verge of
collapse. One more push at my command—
—and our men die with the enemy. Disease does not
discriminate.
Pike stood up and sank the point of his dagger into the table. And, my good Karrxlyn, do you wish to give up?
Karrxlyn shook his huge head. I suggest that if we
make quick work of the navy from Glintz, Triesk will come to its senses and
surrender immediately.
Pike stroked his chin with the edge of his blade. That
is a worthy suggestion of you, and I will accept the advice.
Karrxlyn smiled and Pike returned the grin.
Effrulyn tapped the pen on the table and dropped it flat on the notes he
had been scribbling. I would be happy to act as
emissary and try to elicit a surrender from Triesk while you attack the
fleet from Glintz.
That doesn’t sound like you, Effrulyn, but it is a
good idea. Very well. I suggest that you wear the gray cloak of truce so
the Trieskans will not put an arrow through your funny little head.
Thank you for the advice.
Effrulyn went back
to his papers.
Effrulyn, you will leave in four telclads by the
clock. The men will be told. Karrxlyn, let’s go.
When Effrulyn next looked up, the clock told him that more than four telclads had passed. He was startled to find his retainers holding a gray robe to drape around him. Properly dressed, he marched along past the perimeter of the Gostum camp. The ground was hard and dry. There had been virtually no rain since Bannk’s beginning, and although the air was saturated with water, the men were thirsty. Effrulyn imagined that Triesk’s reserves should be depleted by now.
The broken walls of the city reared above him, shattered by the freezing of sunset, the thaw of sunrise, and the constant bombardment of Gostum catapults. Black smoke rose from unseen pyres, the sure mark of sickness and epidemic. Triesk might be ready to surrender now, certain in the knowledge that the Gostum would fall with them.
The enemy looking down upon him respected the gray of truce. No arrows
rained down on his head, nor did those terrible mirrors. But they were
curious; an intelligence was behind them. Each time he looked up, he
shielded his eyes, expecting to be blinded once more. When he’d reached the
foot of the acropolis and nothing happened, he cried out, I am an emissary sent to negotiate. I would like to
speak to your Commander, the one responsible for your defenses.
In a few moments the nearest gate opened and he was met by a tall, dark
woman with a bow slung across her shoulder and a knife in her hand. Are you insane to wear such a cape in the Bannk? What
is it for?
Effrulyn hardly recognized a word she said but understood enough when she
indicated, Follow me,
with a wave of her hand
and a toss of her head.
Effrulyn walked behind her and was soon met by others. They led him to a
small house with a cluttered yard near the city wall. You will speak with our Time Keeper, since the head of
the nestrexam died the other beclad.
Effrulyn was led into the house and heard the constant humming and clicking of clocks. He squeezed his eyes hut and wanted to cover his ears with his hands but restrained himself. The room was filled with scattered papers, some crumpled, other piled, nothing in order. Effrulyn winced and felt queasy.
The tall woman pointed with her chin for Effrulyn to come forward. he was
about to announce his presence straight off, but something made him
hesitate. I…I am Effrulyn, the chief advisor to
the Gostum Commander…
A few moments later the man sitting at the desk glanced up. Hmm, a Gostum, I’d guess by your strange speech. Well,
sit down if you can find room, and we’ll see what we can do for you.
Then he went back to his scribbling.
I was most intrigued by your ingenious
defenses.
Trivial,
Alhane said without looking up.
Effrulyn raised an eyebrow. Exactly my thought,
but effective, nonetheless.
Your shuttles reflecting your bonfires in the Patra
gave me the idea.
Ah, well…
Effrulyn sighed as he peered over
Alhane’s shoulder, that shows what we get for
involving ourselves in such applied squabbles. May I ask what you are
doing?
Alhane looked up again. I’m not exactly sure what
I’m doing. But certainly you may ask; no one else seems interested.
It looks like a lot of arithmetic. Tedious.
Yes, I’ll agree to that. Do you do arithmetic?
Rarely anything so trivial. But please explain
what you are doing.
Alhane cleared away the papers from another stool and placed it next to his
own. Please sit down. Now, if you look here, you see
that I have determined that the orbit of the other planet around the sun is
an ellipse—
Around the sun?
Yes, isn’t it amazing? I didn’t believe it myself
until last Bannk. Do you believe it?
I’ve never really given it a second thought.
So you will believe me?
Certainly. Why not? Define the orbits any way you
like.
It is truly amazing that you believe so easily. You
have no idea how I’ve torn my head about it. Do you realize that it was
only this Patra last when I had an equation that I was sure was wrong and
threw it out, only later to realize that it indeed represented an ellipse,
what I had been looking for since I gave up circles. But I didn’t even
recognize it. What a comedy of errors! How I have finally arrived at the
answer is a source of wonder even to me—
Well, get on with it. What is the problem?
The problem is to deduce from this how gravity
works. I am having trouble, not knowing exactly what to do. I am assuming
that some sort of force emanates from the sun and either sweeps or pulls
the planets around it.
Effrulyn rubbed his eyes and wrinkled his nose. Applied. Hmm. I seem to be getting more of these
applied problems all the time. Why use force? Why not energy? Anything you
can do with force you can do with energy and better. After being prompted
by some foolish physicists at Konndjlan, I have recently discovered that
myself.
Well, I wouldn’t know. My problem is that I really
don’t have a good definition of force. It is something that has been
debated among my ancestors for Patra-Bannks without any satisfactory
conclusion.
Effrulyn shrugged. Define force any way you like,
if you insist on using such a laborious concept. I’d suggest we use potential.
Alhane ran his fingers through his silver hair. What
good is a definition if it doesn’t apply to reality?
Who’s talking about reality? You’re talking about
a definition.
Alhane shook his head violently. But I want a
definition that applies to the real world, the physical situation, one that
will be borne out by experiment.
Well, if you insist, I suggest that you define now
and do your experiments later. But do not confuse usefulness with logical
necessity. You can define force to be anything you like. I’d still rather
use my own principle of the minimax conserved. But tell me, what definition
of force did you have in mind? At Konndjlan some time ago, a reasonable one
was proposed, reasonable, at least, because it gave self-consistent
answers. I’m not sure I can remember what it was. After all, I rarely pay
attention to applications until I’m badgered to death by those…those
tinkerers. At any rate, what did you want to do with this?
I’m not sure. It seems to me that since I know how
the planets travel around the sun—or at least I think I do—I should be able
to find out what kind of force—
—or energy—
—keeps them there. You see that the sun is at this
point here. The trouble is that Patra-Bannk is such a big sphere, and I
might guess the sun also. I am not certain that I will be able to figure
out the force on all the parts.
Spheres, you say?
Yes, that was my first great discovery. Did you
know that?
I had heard some debate on it. At Konndjlan, some
said the Polkraitz maps implied what you say, as well as the existence of
the Elsewheres. But others denied it and said that the evidence was
insufficient. As for me, I can’t see what difference it makes, so I will be
happy to believe you. Go ahead and define the world to be round. It may
make the exercise easier. As to your spheres, have you thought of treating
them as single points?
I have, but I see no justification for doing so.
Symmetry,
Effrulyn replied with a wave of his
hand. I’m sure it will work. I’ll justify it later
when we find out whatever it is we’re looking for. Now, let me see what
you’ve got here.…Is this your equation? Do I understand this notation
correctly?…A child could have told you that this is an ellipse.…
Fent of Glintz sat on the beach near the campfire, chewing a piece of tough, rotting meat. He was tired, not having slept in what he thought was more than a beclad. He thought, too, it was terrible that the battle raged constantly with armies rotating brigades for fighting and resting. Why couldn’t there be a Patra, even a short one, just so everybody could get some sleep?
The distant sound of hooves caused him to look out of his lean-to, west toward the shore road. He shaded his eyes and squinted through the sun’s rays to see a huge cloud of dust marching in his direction. More reinforcements? He saw the banner of the Gostum Command and feared that the fleet from Glintz was going to be destroyed. Fent threw down his meat—but not quickly—picked up his cowl and his sword, and marched off to his own line of men. He was happy that it was the shortest of the Bannks, that the sun was always low and south and would never really become a burning-hot enemy.
Standing beside the bulwark of sand, dirt, and charred wood that his men had constructed, Fent participated in the release of the first flight of arrows. He watched a Gostum fall in front of him, essentially bloodless at this distance, and saw them fling their deadly short spears and whizzers. The dust kicked up by the grask created such a cloud that he could hardly see anything. A Gostum or a Gostum ally stepped onto the bulwark and Fent sliced his head off. He watched the newly acquired food topple over, lifeless, and decided that it didn’t matter if this had been a Gostum or one of their allies.
The noise was deafening. The screams and clashing were ceaseless. Fent wiped his forehead and longed for the water that was behind him. He was almost thankful for the dust that shielded him from the sun, for he knew that it was going to be a long day.