by Drew Wagar
He and the crew had also found many devices in the ancient caves on the Scattered Isles. Some were remarkably mundane; winches, pulleys and all manner of gear useful for managing a ship. Others defied explanation, such as black panels made of glass in various sizes, some large, some small enough to be handheld. They were all cracked and broken now, but the quality of the glass and the strange internals of the devices showed a sophistication beyond anything they had yet seen. Meru would have dearly loved to know what they were.
We lost so much knowledge of the past. Will we find it again?
Meru knew the crew well now, with the exception of Fitch, who stayed as distant as ever. From what Meru had seen during the preparations for the voyage to the mainland he’d been procuring strange coloured powders and mixing them in very exacting quantities. Fitch had often retired to a distant part of the island for days at a time before returning and repeating the process of mixing the powders. Meru had sneaked a look at them, but they seemed unremarkable to him.
Only the memory of the squid and the strange fiery explosion reminded him that Fitch clearly had expertise of his own.
Fourteen stretches before, the Mobilis had set out from the Scattered Isles. Meru had timed it using the on-board timers and verified it with the last pass of Mayura. If his calculations were correct and the map was accurate they should arrive close to the coast of Scallia in good time to recalculate their position precisely when the next pass occurred. They had rounded the peninsular as they had expected and were now heading shaderight.
According to his calculations they should sight land again this stretch, in the vicinity of the first city marked on the map. Dynesia.
Meru peered out to sea, but there was nothing in sight save for the endless waves.
‘Keeping a weather eye out?’
Meru turned to see Fitch, in his trademark wide-brimmed hat, now tied under his chin to save it from the breeze. His long aquiline nose jutted out, almost to the brim.
Meru eyed him warily. ‘Should be seeing the coast soon.’
Fitch sniffed the air. ‘Reckon a spell or two yet. With me boy, Captain’s asked me to show you something.’
Meru stiffened at being called a boy, but he knew Fitch only did it to annoy him. No point in being petulant about it. He had his full eighteen rounds now after all, something he’d marked in the last pass.
‘Now?’
‘Yes, boy now. And jump to it!’
Fitch led him right the way back to the stern of the Mobilis to the rearmost cargo hatch. The reverberation of the engines was stronger here, coursing through the deck under their feet. Meru’s eyes widened. Ever since he’d come aboard Fitch had aggressively guarded this hatch.
‘Let me be making this clear,’ Fitch said. ‘Don’t hold with kids knowing this myself, but the captain’s the captain, aint he?’
‘He is,’ Meru answered.
‘And seeing as we’re going into unknown lands and unknown waters carefree an all, seems fitting to be able to give a good account of ourselves, yes?’
Meru frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll see soon enough.’
Fitch reached down into the cargo bay and hoisted out a heavy crate. Meru moved to help him, but Fitch batted him away. Meru caught sight of several other crates, all carefully stowed.
‘Wait your turn, boy.’
Fitch levered off the lid of the crate and reached inside, withdrawing a long metal and wooden device. To Meru’s eyes it was a tube, with a wooden wedge at one end and some kind of mechanism two thirds of the way down its length.
‘What is it?’
‘Ancients had a name for it,’ Fitch replied, offhand.
‘What does it do?’
‘It kills things.’
Meru looked at the device again. It was oddly shaped to be a weapon, it had no cutting edge like a sword or an axe.
‘How do you use it?’
Fitch handed Meru a belt, which contained a pair of large pockets. It felt curiously heavy as he put it on around his waist. Fitch gestured to one of the pockets. Inside Meru found a series of metal cylinders, sharpened to a point at one end and flat at the other.
‘Don’t muck about with these,’ Fitch instructed. ‘Have a habit of making a mess of things if you do.’
Next Fitch handed Meru one of the devices and told him to push a series of the cylinders through a metal flap in the side of the mechanism. Each cylinder clicked into place with a sharp metallic clunk. Six cylinders fitted in sequence. Fitch grabbed his own weapon and then gestured for Meru to copy his movements.
Fitch pulled a lever on the bottom of the weapon outwards and upwards in a smooth pump action. A decisive click emanated from the weapon. Meru copied the action and was rewarded with the same result.
Satisfied it was ready, Fitch showed Meru how to hoist the weapon.
To his surprise the weapon was raised with the wooden wedge tucked firmly into his shoulder.
‘Look down the barrel,’ Fitch said. ‘That’s where you’re aimin’.’
Meru squinted, seeing a pair of marks at each end of the barrel. ‘Aiming at what?’
He lowered the weapon carelessly. Fitch grabbed the barrel before it could point at him.
‘Scorch … Never point this at anything, lest you mean to do it harm! Understand?’
Meru nodded, embarrassed and trembling at Fitch’s sharp voice.
‘Raise it,’ Fitch said. ‘Tuck it in your shoulder, there’s quite a kick. Firm your stance, be ready. You’re aiming at that plank of wood on the far side of the ship. Line up the plank with the two marks.’
Meru looked. Fitch had set up a series of six planks of wood on the opposite side of the ship.
‘Aim. With your other hand, squeeze the flange.’
Meru’s fingers found the small curl of the mechanism on the lower side of the weapon. It seemed stiff. He squeezed a little harder.
With a sharp click the mechanism spun forward. There was an almighty bang, accompanied by smoke and a burning acrid smell. Fire jetted from the front of the barrel. The weapon jolted backwards in his grasp, bruising his shoulder. The unexpected recoil threw him off balance to fall on his backside on the deck.
Fitch laughed, slapping his thigh, his head rolling back with amusement.
‘Told you there was a kick, boy!’
Meru ruefully got to his feet.
‘What happened?’
‘You missed, that’s what happened.’
Meru looked up, the planks were unharmed.
‘You show me then.’
Fitch grinned and took up his weapon with a practiced air. Holding it confidently and bracing himself. A moment later he fired. Meru saw the smoke, but also saw the left-most plank shatter into kindling. He gasped in surprise. Fitch pulled the lever on the underside and the weapon clicked back. He fired again, destroying another plank.
He repeated it until all six planks were shattered. Meru stared at them in awe.
Imagine if one of those hit a person!
‘These are lethal!’
‘Yeah,’ Fitch said, grinning. ‘Blow a man’s guts clean out.’
Meru had no doubt Fitch knew that by some personal experience. ‘Where did you get them?’
‘Found ‘em. Figured ‘em out. Ancient’s technology. We’ve got a few hundred of these cylinders and half a dozen weapons. Don’t know if we can make ‘em ourselves. But it’ll give us an upper hand should we need it.’
‘I’ll say,’ Meru agreed. ‘What other surprises have you got down there?’
‘You’ll see, should we need ‘em. Master of weapons me. Need to know y’see and right now …’
‘I know. I don’t need to know.’
Fitch grinned. ‘Want to try again? You’ve got to be useful.’
Meru nodded eagerly. Fitch pulled the broken planks away and put some new ones in their place.
‘Right then.’ Fitch appraised Meru’s performance as he hoisted the weapon again. ‘Load … remem
ber your stance, breathe out … and fire.’
This time Meru managed to hit a plank. It shattered into kindling with a satisfying bang.
‘Yes!’
‘Not bad,’ Fitch admitted. ‘But the true test is hitting something at range, a hundred paces or thereabouts.’
Meru puffed out his cheeks. ‘You can do that?’
‘Me? Yeah. I can.’
‘You two finished blowing holes in my ship?’
Meru turned to see Coran approaching them from the wheel house.
‘Just showing him as you directed, Captain.’
Coran held up his hand in acquiescence. ‘Hopefully we’ll never have to use them, but it’s as well to be prepared I’d warrant.’
Meru handed the weapon to Fitch, who unloaded it and stored it in the crate. He set about repacking the crate and shifting it back into the hold.
‘So what do you make of that then?’ Coran said, conspiratorially.
‘They’re deadly,’ Meru replied. ‘Vicious. Why you could kill dozens of men at range with such things …’
‘Or women …’ Coran said, with a knowing look.
Meru swallowed.
‘Gives you a feeling for how brutal the end of the Voren empire must have been,’ Coran said. ‘And to think that despite those weapons we still lost.’
Against the witches …
Meru nodded. ‘You found those too?’
Coran nodded. ‘We found caches of them all over the Scattered Isles, buried carefully, wrapped in oiled fabrics to keep them clean and workable. Clearly their owners intended to come back to reclaim them …’
‘…only they never did. Like the rest of this.’ Meru looked up across the decks of the Mobilis.
‘Aye. Rifles they called them, according to the texts we’ve deciphered.’
‘Rifles,’ Meru mouthed, trying out another unfamiliar word. ‘They seem almost simple compared with the rest of the workings aboard.’
Coran smiled. ‘Shrewd observation. I thought the same myself. Half expected the power of ‘tricity to be used instead, yes?’
Meru nodded.
‘I’m thinking they couldn’t make it small enough. All these wires and devices needed to tame that power. Fitch took one of those cylinders apart to see how it worked, never seen him do something so carefully and painstakingly!’
‘What was inside?’
‘A metal slug at the top and a fine powder behind it. The powder is the deadly part. Burns like a flash if you set fire to it. But it’s more than that, it sets off if you hit it. The action of the mechanism makes it explode …’
‘Sending the slug down the barrel.’
Coran nodded. ‘Simple eh? Simple, but effective. I think that’s the reasoning behind it. If you’re in a tight spot you want something that’s quick and effective. These rifles have twice the range of a crossbow or an archer’s bow and more than enough accuracy once you get familiar. Six shots before you need to reload.’
Meru nodded. ‘You expect to use them?’
Coran looked back out to sea. ‘They were necessary before, perhaps they will be again. Let’s see what we find eh?’
Just then, a voice hollered from the front of the ship.
‘Land ho!’
Meru looked up to see Daf waving frantically from the bow of the Mobilis. Both he and Coran raced forward to peer over the bow.
Daf was right. Clouds shaded most of the detail, but a series of low wooded hills could just be seen on the horizon. Coran signalled for Mel to steer towards it. Meru could see her spin the helm inside the wheelhouse. The Mobilis came about and headed towards the hills.
‘And here’s another piece of magic from the ancients,’ Coran said, extracting a small metal tube from his pocket. As Meru watched he pulled it, lengthening it in a series of sections until it was four times as long as it had been when stowed. Meru saw Coran put it to his eye, move it back and forth for a moment before handing it to Meru.
Meru turned it over in his hands. It was heavy and cold to the touch, with thick set pieces of glass in each end, one large, one small.
‘Try it.’
Meru held it up to his eye as he’d seen Coran do … and gasped.
Through the glasses, somehow, the land was nearby, close. He could see individual trees, the beach, a river estuary. In surprise, he lowered the device and looked it over again, trying to understand how it worked.
‘That’s …amazing!’
‘Clever stuff and useful too. They called it a ‘scope.’
Meru continued look it over. He could see the glass had a curve. Looking through the large end he could see it had the opposite effect, making things smaller. Was it a trick of glass? He knew curved glass distorted images, was it possible that the ancients had put that to good use? Their inventiveness knew no limits. He began to understand what was driving Coran to reclaim their lost heritage.
If these little devices are any indication, the ancients had technology so far beyond anything we know today. Does he mean just to find it, or does he mean to put it to use?
The Mobilis was closing the distance to the coast at a rapid rate. Coran returned to the wheel house as they came in close, slowing the ship and carefully scrutinising the coastline. Meru could see a wide channel between two headlands, it looked like a natural harbour. Coran gestured and he vaulted up the ladders to join them.
‘I’m thinking your navigation is spot on,’ Coran said, looking over the map. ‘I’d say this looks like the entrance to the harbour at Dynesia.’
Meru looked over the map. ‘We should round this coastland to the shadeward and then take a course shaderight for half a stretch. Then with a turn to sunward we should be in sight of the city.’
Coran nodded. ‘Right you are. Mel, keep us to the middle of the channel. Steady as she goes.’
The weather remained fine and clear. Meru sat at the bow with the ‘scope, watching the land to the sunward slowly rolling past. It was heavily wooded with shades right down to the water line, almost without interruption, stopping just short of the sea with a narrow stretch of sand. Here and there rivers of various sizes emptied themselves into the sea, Meru even spied a series of enticing looking waterfalls.
The channel was slowly narrowing as they continued up it, now down to perhaps five hundred paces wide, the water growing calmer the further up they went. Ahead Meru could see a rocky escarpment jutting out of the forest of shades, it looked like an ideal vantage point, though there was no obvious way to reach it from the shore. He trained the ‘scope on it to get a better look.
And almost dropped it.
He spied a figure, crouched on the rock. He looked back, seeing a number of figures huddled low against the rock. They had tanned skins, dressed in rough garments of animal skin, with dark hair and long unkempt beards. He looked over the top of the ‘scope with his own eyes, hardly able to make them out at all. They blended with the rocks in an unnerving way.
Meru got to his feet and ran to the wheelhouse.
‘There are people!’ he yelled.
‘What did you see?’ Coran asked.
‘Savages I’d be guessing. Dressed in animal skins, there on the rocks.’
Coran snatched the ‘scope and looked for himself.
‘Nothing there now. Reckon we’ve been sighted all right. Did you see if they carried anything?’
Meru shook his head. ‘I could barely see them against the rocks.’
‘You think they’ll be hostile?’ Mel asked.
‘I’m not rightly sure. Savages you say?’
Meru nodded. ‘Skins for clothes, they looked wild.’
‘Not what I hoped for. Well, this is their land and we’re the invaders. Best to be careful.’ Coran moved to the rear and shouted to Fitch.
‘Fitch. Load up a rifle apiece. Not looking for trouble but …’
‘Aye, Captain,’ Fitch called back. ‘I’ll see to it.’
The Mobilis continued on, Mel slowing the ship gently as they came to the end o
f the channel.
‘Should be able to turn to sunward at the end here,’ Meru said, as the coastline fell away to their left. The channel ended in a large bay. Mel, swung the helm around and set the Mobilis on a new course.
Lacaille was blazing in the sky above them as they turned towards it, making them squint into the glare reflecting off the water. It was a moment before their eyes adapted. The headland fell away, giving them a clear view of the bay as the Mobilis left the channel.
The crew stared, mouths falling open as one.
Across the bay stood a massive bridge. It must have been a thousand paces from end to end and hundreds high. An arch of impossible dimensions in a perfect curve, straddling the bay from one side to the other, supported at each end by four enormous towers. Below the arch was a flat section, still far above the sea below it, joining the land at either side. Its purpose clearly to allow the free passage of some kind of traffic from one side to the other.
‘I said the rifles are set! Can’t nobody hear me … what …?’
Fitch, bad tempered as always, was berating them from below before he also caught sight of the bridge ahead. He stopped and stared, his mouth slack.
‘Well I’ll be scorched! Just be looking at that!’
Mel slowed the engines and the Mobilis lost way, cruising gently towards the bridge, which rose in silhouette before them, black and sombre against the bright orb of Lacaille.
