The Far Side

by Wylie, Gina Marie

  “I try not to,” she told him.

  “That’s what we do, Miss Schulz.” He tapped the list. “Some of this you are clearly passing to the Arvalans and some you are not. I seriously doubt if they will be able to operate even a simple UAV for a long time to come. On the other hand, hand saws, hammers, files, chisels and assorted other tools are a different matter.

  “The outboards -- I’m not sure about those, but the catamaran is probably for them.”

  “Yes. It’s a special design I got from one of my dad’s drinking buddies who designs racing hulls. There is no way to get anything longer than fourteen feet through the door, because of the narrow tunnel on the other side.

  “I am loath to start changing the shape of the other side significantly.”

  “It didn’t seem affected by two pallets of supplies you put in there.”

  “No, but it wouldn’t do to find out that something we did broke the connection. I like the Arvalans; they have an interesting planet, but I don’t want to live there the rest of my life.”

  “The ATVs,” he said, looking at her. “You have to realize that transporting gasoline through the door is a risk. You might want to be sure how safe the containers will be when exposed to the magnetic field and voltages that exist around the Far Side Door.”

  “Linda took a five gallon gas can through once, during the rescue. She was thinking they could use ATVs to chase after us, but Jake Lawson found us before she could arrange for them. We used the gas to burn some farm fields.”

  He lofted the sheets again. “I know you are now somewhat wealthy, Miss Schulz, but this is going to cost a lot. While I can deflect the government busy-bodies for the most part, I think it is safe to say that for the foreseeable future there is no chance of the government funding any of this.”

  “That’s fine with me. Look me in the eye and tell me that you’re an honest man.”

  “I’m as honest as most people,” he told her.

  “More honest than Richards and Foster?”

  “Please, Miss Schulz, the worst mistake you will ever make in your life is to compare the rest of us with those two.”

  “My friends Kris and Ezra are intelligent, but we had a lot on our plates over there. Once, exactly once, the subject of money came up among us, and it was in reference to Ezra not wanting to teach them poker, so they wouldn’t develop ‘poker-faces.’”

  “I have to say, I never thought about it, either,” Bullman told her.

  “Well, they’re pretty much like us, although on their planet copper is significantly more rare than it is here. Thus, there was a strong push early on to work iron, instead of copper, bronze, and brass.

  “Like us, they use metal coins, worth, literally, their weight in the metal. But, copper, silver, gold and platinum occur in different abundances there than they do here. Platinum, for instance, is more common there than silver, while silver and gold have about equal abundances. Since gold is softer than silver, they use it for ornamentation -- jewelry -- rather than coins.

  “Thus, a hundred iron washers about an inch across, are worth a platinum disk about the size of a quarter. Two platinum disks are worth a coin the size of a silver dollar -- only it’s made of copper and not silver.

  “Their equivalent of a twenty dollar gold piece is a piece of copper shaped a little like a bell. At one point we needed something metal that would be easy to work so we could tip the crossbow quarrels. I saw the little bell-things and asked for all of them to be gathered up. I wondered why they seemed upset at the time, and I was impressed how well they policed the battlefield after the battle to recover quarrels.

  “I had no way of knowing that each of those copper pieces were worth about a month’s pay. We got it sorted out in the end, but it’s just one of a million things that can trip you up.

  “I shipped a hundred pounds of copper across, and they feel bad because I’ve been trading them straight across for their most common jewelry metal -- an amalgam of platinum and gold. They think they are taking advantage of me.”

  Jon Bullman sat still, until he finally shook his head. “Morality, once you go through that door, takes on entirely new and different shapes than anyone ever imagined. Black people holding white slaves. The local white folk think women should be barefoot and pregnant...”

  “Not barefoot,” Andie corrected. “But, yes. There was a serious population problem at first, with only forty or so women of child-bearing age who survived. The average number of children each of those women had, once they were there, was five -- and the men were hyper-solicitous of their health and safety, and had to be for another hundred years or so until they got through the population bottleneck. Even now women are respected in ways our society has never experienced -- but on the other hand, beyond being kept safe, they are expected to keep pregnant and raise their children.”

  “Miss Schulz, what are your ultimate intentions?”

  “To keep the Arvalans safe from the Tengri. To educate both sides about what the word ‘equality’ means. The Arvalans no longer have the critical situation they once had -- women can afford to no longer be cosseted -- not to mention, it would help their society if they freed half the population to be all that they could be. The Tengri outnumber them many times over -- but they can double their effective population at a stroke if women are free to work.”

  “I know you think highly of the Japanese for the ability to adapt to Western ideas. You do realize that women in their society lagged by fifty or sixty years, with Western ways?” Bullman asked.

  “Aye, that’s so. It worked better in Russia and China, and, I think, in Korea. These things, Mr. Bullman, are a function of education. When the US opened Japan, they too had limited rights for women, but things were just starting to change. The Japanese weren’t culturally open to that change and resisted longer than the Americans did. Eventually, though, it makes too much of a difference in outcomes. Adding twenty or more percent to your productive population is a big jump.”

  “True, but again, as a topic for food for thought: even in the US, the transition hasn’t been smooth. Too many women walked away from having children, too many fathers walked away from their families.”

  Andie tilted her head to one side. “I’m a rocket scientist, Mr. Bullman -- pure and simple. I try to evaluate things with the best, most open mind I can manage. Our government let ‘feel good’ policies trump common sense, which was bad. Worse, they let intentions trump results -- that is still an ongoing catastrophe. I already know that the Arvalans are very different philosophically from us, and I intend to encourage those differences.

  “Did you know, Mr. Bullman, that they don’t believe in gods or magic? They are as rational as we should have been, but never were. It comes at a cost of course. We assigned explanations to events we didn’t understand to gods or magic. When they don’t understand events, they tend to say ‘We don’t know and may never know’ and let it go. If they concentrate on something, they can develop very rapidly -- it’s just that they don’t usually do that.

  “I’m teaching them the scientific method. Already it’s been seized upon in Arvala as a perfectly logical approach to inquiry that is far superior to the old way of ‘We may never know.’”

  Andie wound down at the end of the sentence, watching the much older man. He was as inscrutable as ever.

  “Miss Schulz, I’ve heard that you are stubborn -- mulish if you will -- and that you aren’t fond of listening to other people’s ideas.”

  She shook her head. “I’m nothing like that at all.”

  “Then I have a comment, a recommendation, and then a suggestion.”

  “Sure, go ahead.

  “A great many of the things you have on your list won’t fit through the tunnel that leads to the rookery. A number of other items aren’t likely to go through the Far Side door, because the passage is little more than four feet wide.

  “You mentioned earlier that you were concerned about what would happen if the physical shape of the othe
r side was changed. My recommendation is that you should find out sooner rather than later. Right now it would take an hour or two to get everyone back on this side of the door. There are plans, including your own, for more general exploration on the other side, and if that were to happen it might take a week or two or perhaps even a month to get everyone back.

  “I’m not sure how that would affect your schedule, since you didn’t include one, but I have a feeling that it would. I recommend that we arrange with Melek to have some Arvalans standing by to widen that passage once we have everyone on this side. We can either leave the Far Side Door open or closed -- it’s up to you, Miss Schulz. Personally, I’d recommend shutting down for a day or so to check everything, but that’s just me.”

  Andie stared at him. “You’re right. I personally don’t think it’s a large risk, but it is a risk. Better to close the door, so no one is tempted to sneak through. Tell them they have a full day to work, and then we’ll check to see what happens. I tell you true, it would break my heart if we lose the connection. But it would hurt more losing people.”

  “Indeed so, Miss Schulz.

  “My last point is about those ATVs. You have specified trailers and sidecars with them, which will mean that they can haul additional cargo. Except, Miss Schulz, most ATVs aren’t overpowered and their engines aren’t designed to tow cargoes. You may find that you will go through engines much faster than you thought.”

  “Then we go through engines,” Andie told him.

  “I assume you wish to be able to haul cargoes up to Arvala.”

  “That’s right. I realize that the gasoline is a risk, and I didn’t know about the maintenance issues, but it’s something we can deal with. We need to be able to bring supplies to Arvala.”

  “I understand that the Arvalan army, most of it, has turned around and marched home.”

  “That’s correct. They have no way to supply them that far away from home -- not since the road was destroyed in the two storms. They cut a road south from Arvala that they used to supply the army when it was here, but it is very rough and needs a lot more work.”

  “So, what you really need is a way to deliver supplies in both directions. As things stand the Arvalans would be hard put to defend against a large-scale invasion. And we know that the Tengri are on those islands to the east, and they are talking to their homeland.

  “I know this will infuriate you, but the information you’ve given the NSA has allowed them to decode most of the Tengri transmissions -- but they are under orders not to share the information they’ve gained from those transmissions with you or anyone else in the project. A friend told me about them, but not even he is brave enough to disclose the actual contents.”

  “You’re right, that fuckwad President!” she started to say something else, but he held up his hand.

  “Please, Miss Schulz. I know your opinion of the man, and we both know it’s shared by the vast majority of our fellow countrymen. However, the law of the land is still the law of the land, no matter how much those in power have been misusing those laws. We make their case for them if we break them ourselves and ignore the fact that we are. Please don’t make verbal threats of violence against the President.”

  Andie growled something under her breath. “He can not only threaten me and my friends with violence, but he can kill people, break people’s legs, arms and all of that -- and I can’t say that I hope one day to even the score? I’d say it’s not fair, but then, when is life ever fair?”

  “Miss Schulz, the people of our country are just as eager as you are to make sure the laws apply to everyone equally. He will be brought to justice.”

  “Fine, go on with what you are saying, then.”

  “The Tengri are an existential threat to the Arvalans. Moreover, the Tengri have, according to what Chaba and Diyala have told us, upwards of ten million slaves. Slaves that need to be freed. I know of no one, not even the fuckwad President of ours, who disagrees about that. It’s about means and timetables, of course.

  “You need a means of delivering significant quantities of goods between here and Arvala. I would suggest, Miss Schulz, that you build a rail line.”

  She sighed. “Right now their iron ore production isn’t nearly enough for the demands on it. With the coming introduction of rifled flintlocks, which use considerably more steel than a sword, the introduction of cannon, which use enormous quantities of iron and steel -- there isn’t enough to go around. It’s going to take several years to ramp up the mining, smelting and refining of the ore.”

  “Yes, I know,” the government’s representative agreed.

  “It is true that steam engines are conceptually relatively simple and that there were steamboats introduced very quickly after the discovery of the steam engine. Railroads are even simpler -- it would be a good idea, but I don’t see them able to do anything about it for three or four years -- and they may not have three or four years.”

  “That is correct, Miss Schulz. I told my friend that while the Arvalans could use any intelligence about the Tengri they could get, any information about the dispatch of additional vessels in this direction is critical to their survival. He’s assured me that while he doesn’t dare give details, he will let me know if any more ships are on the way here.”

  “I guess thanks are in order.”

  “He’s like all of us, Miss Schulz. We chafe under the restrictions that small men with small minds -- and small dicks -- have placed on us.”

  Andie smiled. “So, trains, planes and automobiles. All good ideas whose time will come, but just not yet.”

  “Miss Schulz, I wasn’t thinking of building a spur of the Santa Fe or the Union Pacific north to Arvala. I know this will sound crazy, but I volunteer summer weekends at a local amusement park. I know diesel engines, and they have a small train that runs around the perimeter of the park. It has a track gauge of fifteen inches, and the cars are stable and can do real work. I might add that there is a large community of steam engine builders out there who would dearly love to build and maintain such a railroad system.”

  “Not diesel?” Andie asked, focusing on the one thing she could improve on. “The Arvalans have mountains of hard coal. If you want a stunning geography lesson start anywhere on the west coast of the East Finger and walk east for twenty miles, until you get to the watershed line between the east and west slopes of the peninsula. Twenty miles of limestone, sandstone, granite and basaltic intrusions, coal seams that can be a hundred yards thick -- you name it, it’s there. And I understand that the same thing is true on the West Finger as well. The Middle Finger seems to be more like the Mississippi River delta -- think of a long, skinny Louisiana.”

  “That’s a lot of sedimentary layers,” Jon Bullman told her.

  “It is. I think this planet is a lot older than Earth. A lot older. And it’s odd, don’t you think, that in both cases there was a continent that wasn’t inhabited at first by people, then travelers reached it and began to spread across it? Of course, these people have had little more than a thousand years. On Earth it took tens of thousands of years to populate the Americas.”

  She contemplated him for a moment. “I’m going to need someone who is a mining engineer who can come and look at what needs to be done to make the rookery easier to traverse and do the planning. No blasting and he has to stick close to the guidelines.”

  “Someone like that can be found easily enough,” Jon told her.

  “Since he has to be approved by the government, why don’t you see to it then?” Andie asked him.

  Jon laughed. “Ah! An action point! You haven’t given me very many of those! I’ll get right on it!”

  Chapter 27 :: Choo Choo!

  Andie Schulz got out of the car and looked around. Linda climbed out of the driver’s side and stretched, flexing her legs. It was, Andie thought, enough to make you see red, knowing that her friend was going to have aches and pains for the rest of her life.

  The area was pretty enough, high in the Blue R
idge Mountains of North Carolina. Tree-covered mountains, fields, and an occasional cluster of buildings stretched away into the blue haze, and the sky was cloudless and blue. The house not far away was rather old and not terribly well maintained. There was a small version of a steam locomotive visible inside a barn.

  In spite of the relatively early hour, the man sitting on the porch of the house was balancing a long-neck beer bottle on a paunch that was every bit as large as her father’s in his heyday. From the number of empties around him, there was no way to be sure just which one of the day this beer was.

  Andie walked up to the steps and stood looking at him. “Who the fuck are you?” the man asked.

  “Andie Schulz, fuckwad. If you’re Henry Martindale, I told you I was coming.”

  He blinked. “That’s not very lady-like language.”

  “I’m a person more interesting in getting things done. The lady stuff I keep for special occasions.”

  “And you’re interested in Liberty 176?”

  “That’s me. Is that it, in the barn?”

  “That’s her, in the barn, yes.”

  “Show me. Tell me in as many words as you need, why the fuck I’d want to buy it. Her, excuse me.”

  He heaved himself up from the rocking chair he was sitting in and walked towards the barn. He gestured at Linda. “Does your friend want to see, too?”

  Andie stifled a moment of pain. “A couple months ago, both her legs were broken, along with some of the bones in her right hand. She’s getting around better, but she doesn’t like to climb up and down things, not if she can avoid it. Sitting in the car for the drive up here -- her legs are stiff and hurt. She’ll be okay.”

  “Life sure sucks, don’t it?” he told Andie. He waved towards the barn and led her there.

  So, Andie got a tour of a steam locomotive, learning a whole lot more than she’d ever wanted to know about steam boilers and engines.