by Joe Horan
She tried to stand up, failed, tried again and succeeded. She leaned against the hull of the escape pod, then quickly pulled her hand back. It was still hot enough to hurt. The representatives of a Grade 1 (pre-industrial) civilisation and a Grade 5 (spacefaring) civilisation gazed at each other across a hundred feet of mud, each wondering what the hell to do next.
It was written in the ancient Chronicles that the Ancestors descended from the sky in a ship of fire. Not many people took that literally nowadays, but many of the beliefs that had arisen seemed just as unlikely. Some people believed humans came from an accidental mating between a mountain ape and a lion. (There had been attempts to get lions and apes to mate to see what was produced, but so far no one had succeeded. There had been some spectacular fights, though.) The water people believed the first humans emerged from the sea. The inhabitants of Kaun believed some nonsense about the God Sol cutting the Goddess Eota in half with an axe and then fashioning humans from her corpse, but that was typical of Kaun. The Book of the Ancestors kept in the Ractaz in the Mountains of Amorn might or might not shed some light on the matter, but as it was written in a language no one could read it wasn’t much help. Oriol himself believed that the gods had created humans, but not many people still believed in them and as they appeared to have left no explanation or instructions, it put everyone somewhat at a loose end. However, what he was looking at was undoubtedly a girl, and with his own eyes, he had seen her fall from the sky in what might be termed a ship of fire. No belief is so ancient that it cannot be changed; his mind was not so rigid that he couldn’t return to the ancient Chronicles if enough evidence was presented.
To be honest, it didn’t matter. He was a soldier of Ochira and it was his duty to investigate what happened on Ochiran soil. He walked slowly forward, sword at the ready.
Steph watched the knight wading through the mud towards her. He had a sword and he looked ready to use it. There was a blaster in the weapons locker, but as the door was fifteen feet above her and she had neglected to extend the ladder, getting up there was going to be a problem. She backed slowly away round the curved side of the pod.
Oriol stopped and said, “Who are you?”
He was speaking a form of Atumcarian. It had a nasal accent, but no worse than the Arrican accent. All languages change over time, but Atumcarian seemed particularly resistant to change and someone from a thousand years ago could probably understand a modern-day Atumcarian speaker quite easily. The problem of communication had not occurred to Steph until that moment. Of course, if she hadn’t understood what he was saying she would not now have to devise a reply that didn’t knock too big a hole in the non-interference directive. Non-contact had surely disappeared the minute her feet (or more correctly her face) hit the ground.
“My name’s Steph,” she said. There, just giving her name surely couldn’t be construed as interference.
“Where are you from?”
“Atumcar.” A name would mean nothing.
“Where’s Atumcar?”
She felt herself being pushed inexorably closer to the boundary. Damn those League of Planet bureaucrats sitting in their plush offices on Garronica. She was standing in a muddy field facing a man with a sword. This planet had been smashed sideways by a blast wave from a battle in space. Non-interference had gone long before she got here. Wasn’t there an Arrican saying that went something like: If you’re going to be hung, make sure it’s something worth hanging for? If there wasn’t there damn well should be.
“Atumcar is a planet,” she said. “We can travel between the stars in ships. I served on a ship called the Balastar. It was damaged and I found myself in this escape pod. That is how I came to your world.” And they can put me up against the wall and shoot me when I get home if they like, but if that chap sticks his sword through me they won’t get the chance.
“You travel between the stars in ships of fire?”
“Yes.” She was a drive specialist. She knew the vast amounts of energy pulsing through a multi’s cores. Ship of fire was as good a name as any.
To her astonishment, he placed his sword vertically in the ground in front of him. He used it to lower himself to one knee, then both knees.
“Welcome, most exalted Ancestor,” he said.
Chapter 5
The Ancestor
The knight helped Steph out of the mud and put her on his horse. He got up behind her and they started to ride. He told her his name was Oriol Eanus, a warrior in the Ochiran Army. He gave her a brief explanation of the situation; the siege, the Sun Scorch and how Princess Desiree had taken advantage of the situation to lead her makeshift army out and defeat King Shalmazar’s army.
They found a tiny abandoned cottage hidden in a stand of trees. Oriol told her that everyone had fled into the city because of the siege, but he was sure the owners would not mind if she borrowed a change of clothes. There was no effective way to get clean, so she rubbed off as much dirt as she could and put on some loose trousers, shirt and a jacket. She kept her spacefleet-issue boots, however. They were comfortable, fireproof and virtually indestructible. After that they set off to the west, but before long they encountered a group of armed men riding fast the other way. There was a long conversation between Oriol and the leader of the group; it seemed the leader wasn’t prepared to accept that she was an Ancestor and wanted to bind her. In the end she was given the benefit of the doubt. There was a certain reshuffling of mounts – two of the soldiers shared a horse so she could have one of her own – and they all set off to the west. Steph, who had ridden a horse once before when she was ten, would rather be sharing with one of the men, but it was starting to appear that being an Ancestor had certain advantages and might even prevent her from being killed, so it didn’t seem like a good idea to admit she couldn’t ride.
Before she joined the spacefleet Steph had been a city girl, but she could see that the countryside had suffered badly. The crops were flattened down in the fields, all the animals were dead and most of the houses had been burned. After a while they came to what appeared to be a battlefield. There were corpses everywhere. They appeared to have been dead for some time; the smell was indescribable. A group of men and women were busy digging a large pit in which the dead would presumably be buried, and ahead of them was a city.
For a while now Steph had been getting the feeling that she had somehow found herself in a history vid. The city completed it. A high crenellated wall surrounded it, with towers at intervals. From some of the towers colourful banners were flying.
A large gate faced them. They rode towards it. A challenge was issued from a tower next to it, the leader answered and the gate swung open. They rode through into a large square. On the far side was an ornate building with a balcony along the front. It looked like a palace. From a small tower projecting above the roof flew a flag on which were depicted what looked like two lions holding up a globe with a crown on top. Presumably, whoever ruled this city lived here. Steph felt a considerable amount of trepidation. They might not be pleased to see someone claiming to be an Ancestor, and if they wanted to be rid of her they probably had some very unpleasant ways of doing it.
She saw that two people had just come out of the palace, a young man and a young woman. The man wore a light green tunic and dark trousers, the woman wore a plain blue knee-length dress with a polished metal breastplate over it. She had long, unruly blonde hair.
“Prince Joaquin and Princess Desiree, joint rulers of Ochira,” Oriol said to Steph, and rode forward to meet them.
Joaquin and Desiree were in the maproom receiving the reports from the riders who had gone out this morning. Three had returned so far, bringing a depressing story of ruined fields, flattened crops and dead livestock. Chief Cartographer Nyassa and her team were recording the data on a large-scale map of central Ochira. The watchmen reported the company that had been sent to investigate the strange object that fell from the sky was returning, but they assumed the captain would come and report when he got in. Now, ho
wever, there was such a commotion outside that they got up and hurried to the Main Square to see what was happening.
The gates were just opening and the company was coming through. With them was Oriol Eanus, the scout rider who had gone to the east that morning. Next to him rode a girl. He saw the prince and princess on the steps of the palace, rode over and dismounted.
“The Ancestors have come!” he said excitedly.
The girl dismounted; in fact she almost fell off the horse, she clearly wasn’t an experienced horsewoman. The captain brought her over.
“This is Steph Campbell,” he said. “She claims that she came from the stars in a ship of fire.”
This man clearly wasn’t prepared accept at face value that this girl was an Ancestor, but he had brought her to the prince and princess and it was up to them to determine the truth.
Joaquin looked at her. He saw a girl of about twenty, five and a half feet tall, with shortish hair that was probably blonde, though it contained a lot of mud. She wore the typical working clothes of loose trousers, undertunic and tough weatherproof jacket. They were clean, but they were also several sizes too big which suggested that they were not hers. Her feet were clad in tight-fitting boots made of a soft, shiny material that he had never seen before. She was clearly exhausted; in fact there was a look on her face that reminded him very much of his sister when she returned from the battle.
“Come inside,” he said kindly. “I expect you could do with a good clean-up, some food and a little wine, and then you can tell us why you have come to the World.”
A bedroom was being prepared on the upper floor. A maid had been provided for her and a bath of steaming water stood in the middle of the room. Steph gratefully stripped off her clothes and got in. The water soon turned almost black with the mud from her skin and hair, but this had been foreseen and a fresh bath arrived. This one had something in it that smelt nice and had a soothing effect on her skin. She could have luxuriated longer, but she had been promised food and that seemed very tempting. She stood up and the maid rushed forward with a large, fluffy towel.
“Oh miss!” cried the maid, shock and distress in her voice.
Steph had forgotten about her side. She had been hurt in one of those accidents that tended to happen in the engine room of starships, caught by a spray of liquid helium when a cryo seal blew. The regenerator had fixed it up, but it looked a mess and she had no intention of taking months out of her career for cosmetic treatment. Scars like this were a badge of honour among engineers; few people got through a career without acquiring at least one.
“It’s all right, it doesn’t hurt,” she said, taking the towel from the maid and wrapping it round her. “What’s your name?”
“Kerri, miss.”
“Well, Kerri, don’t tell anyone about it, OK,” she said; if she had to play the part of an exalted Ancestor, it might be a good idea not to let people know that her body was scarred.
A pale green knee-length dress had been provided for her and no underwear. It seemed in this society that girls went commando and there was no taboo about showing some leg. Her spacefleet boots had disappeared and a serviceable pair of sandals had been provided. She wondered what the morality was. There was supposed to be a Grade 1 civilisation somewhere where girls were expected to sleep with any man that offered. Everyone had heard of it, no one knew where it was, she suspected it didn’t exist and was just a self-perpetuating rumour.
As soon as she was dressed, a tray of food arrived; bread, meat and a small jug of gravy. A single broad-bladed knife had been provided. If she was on Atumcar she would pour the gravy over the meat, cut it up with the knife and put it in her mouth with her fingers. She had no idea what the correct procedure was here, so she ate Atumcarian style and defied Kerri to say something. The maid didn’t seem at all surprised so she presumed she had got it right. There was also a large glass of wine which she sipped carefully, not knowing how strong it was.
As soon as she finished there were three loud knocks on the door. The maid looked at her enquiringly.
“Let whoever that is in,” she said, hoping that was the right response.
It was a tall, thin man with a lined face and a small white beard. He wore a blue tunic with the same design on it that appeared on the flag.
“I am Darius Gossard, the chief steward,” he said. “The prince and princess will see you now in the prince’s apartments.”
The prince’s apartments were at the front of the building just behind the balcony. Joaquin and Desiree were sitting side by side in identical chairs. Next to the wall a young man sat at a desk, holding a quill pen in his hand and apparently ready to record the proceedings. Joaquin was holding one of her boots in his hand.
“Forgive the imposition, but I was intrigued,” he said. “What material is this made of?”
“Some sort of polymer, I think.”
“Where does it come from?”
“It’s made in a factory. I’m not sure of the exact procedure.”
“You are able to make material like this?”
“Er… yes.”
“And how does this fastening system work?”
“It’s called Velcro. There are lots of tiny hooks that catch hold of the fibres on the other side.”
“Fascinating.” He put the boot down and continued, “Now to business. I am Prince Joaquin, this is Princess Desiree. We are joint rulers of Ochira. Why have you come to the World?”
Steph had given a lot of thought about what she was going to say. Lies could get complicated. You kept having to tell more lies to sustain you, and if you made a mistake you could get caught out. The truth was better, or at least a version of the truth.
“It was an accident.”
“An accident?”
“I was shipwrecked,” she added with sudden inspiration.
“That was a very clever thing to say,” said the girl, Desiree. “Our father established an edict. Shipwrecked mariners must not be harmed. They must be shown all consideration, provided with food, clothing and assistance to reach their destination. Did you know this?”
“How could I?”
“I can think of at least six ways, even if you are not an all-knowing Ancestor from the stars. However, we are obliged to assist you to reach your destination. Where is that?”
“You cannot assist me to reach my destination.”
“Because it is among the stars?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then it looks as if you are stuck here.”
There was a brief silence, broken only by the scratching of the scribe’s pen.
“The hospitality of the palace is yours,” said Joaquin. “You may go where you like in the city, but you will not leave the gates. If you attempt to do so the guards will stop you. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“We will speak again later. My sister and I have much to do. Our land is in dire straits, as I am sure you have noticed.”
“Of course.”
Darius Gossard entered to conduct her back to her room. Joaquin and Desiree waited until the scribe had gone, then looked at each other.
“What do you think?” asked Joaquin.
“She has seen military service. Did you notice how when you gave her an order she said yes sir like a soldier?”
“Military service? A girl?”
Desiree gave him a pitying look.
“Not all women are like you, my valiant little sister.”
“But some are. There were two thousand women among the volunteers when we fought the Kaun army and they were as brave as the men. In fact we have so few fighting men left that we shall have to start training more, and I intend to train women too. I have already started looking for them. Volunteers, of course. For now we shall accept only those who are unmarried and without children, but women can fight as well as men.”
“We have never had female warriors,” said Joaquin doubtfully.
“The only reason is that women did not want to be war
riors. Now they do. All humans are born free and equal. Women serve as provincial governors, as magistrates and village elders. Every profession is open to both men and women. The law guarantees that there is no discrimination and the magistrates, half of whom are women, make sure the law is properly applied. This is the last step we need to take to make our society fully equal and inclusive. Now, after four hundred years, and a war, and a siege, and a natural disaster we do not yet understand which occurred at the opportune moment to deliver us, we have taken it.”
Joaquin looked at her.
“You are wiser than me,” he said.
“No I’m not, but sometimes I see things clearer.”
When Steph got back to her room she found that her boots had been returned. It was dark outside but still early, but she was completely exhausted and needed to sleep. Half an hour later as she was getting ready for bed (no nightclothes; it seemed you were expected to sleep in the nude) there was a knock at the door and, after a pause so that she could put on some attire. Desiree was admitted.
“Just a friendly warning,” said Desiree. “You may or not be an Ancestor, but we actually have no idea who you are or where you’re from. I’ll be watching you. If I see any threat to the kingdom I will cut you open and strangle you with your own intestines.”
And if that was a friendly warning, Steph was glad she hadn’t got an unfriendly one.
The bed in Steph’s room was a lot more comfortable than the standard spacefleet bed she was used to, with the result that having slept from sheer exhaustion until the early hours she was then awake for the rest of the night. Time spent lying awake was never wasted, however, and she spent it thinking about her situation, Ochira and its two young rulers.
There was something about those two. As soon as she mentioned that she was shipwrecked they had felt themselves bound by their father’s edict. She was certain they could have simply ignored it if they wished, but it never crossed their minds to do so. They had honour, and Desiree at least had courage. On the way to the city the men had told her the details of how she led the army into battle and killed King Shalmazar. They also said that she was only fourteen, though she could easily pass for eighteen, or even twenty. The planet’s years might be longer than standard, but not by a great deal. There was a narrow habitable zone around each star, and for planets to stay within it their orbits could not vary by much. The star, as far as she could remember from what she had scanned, was right in the middle of the M class spectrum, which meant that, if anything, the years would be slightly shorter than average.
