The Guns of Two-Space

by Dave Grossman

  Honest labour bears a lovely face..."

  "Aye," replied Lady Elphinstone. "'Tis pleasant. 'Tis 'sweet content' indeed. But I fear 'twill not last. Peace is not thy lot, my friends, for thou are not 'souls of clay.' Thou are heroes: the 'sons of the immortals,' the 'souls of fire.' And of thee the Goddess says:

  "But to the souls of fire I give more fire,

  and to those who are manful

  I give a might more than man...

  for I drive them forth by strange paths

  that they may fight the titans and the monsters

  and the enemies of Gods and men."

  "Thanks, milady," said Fielder sourly. "Forgive me for saying so, but you really know how to ruin a mood."

  She only smiled softly and quoted, "'Tell me now, which sorts of men seem more blessed?'"

  And from every Pier they visited, Fang sent forth her message: <>

  CHAPTER THE 11TH

  Liberty:

  "Went Downtown Just to Ease My Pain"

  I went downtown, it was just to ease my pain

  I ended up out walkin' in the rain

  I took my pistol and a hundred dollar bill

  I had everything I needed to get me killed

  "South Nashville Blues"

  Steve Earle

  The next stop on their agenda was a planet called Show Low, which had recently been selected as the capital for a new territorial sector. Demonstrating a singular but common dearth of imagination, the sector had subsequently been designated the Show Low Sector.

  As they approached Show Low's Pier, old Hans and Midshipman Hayl were once again up in the crosstrees.

  "That's the mighty Weber and the redoubtable Ringo!" said young Hayl, correctly identifying the two frigates docked at the Pier.

  "Aye, lad," replied Hans. "Two o' the greatest Ships ever ta set sail. I can tell ya been studyin'. Theys lots less Ships here than Earthport, as you'd expect. But what's the significance o' these two?"

  "Together with the Drake and some other Ships a little more loosely affiliated, they form the core of what's often called the Baen Fleet," said the little middie, eager to show off his knowledge. "They were assigned to the 'near frontier' immediately upon commissioning, and have been working the most profitable of the well developed frontier worlds ever since. As opposed to the Ships we saw at Earthport, which were mostly working the developed worlds, and the Sylvan and Dwarrowdelf runs."

  "Well done, lad!"

  "Do you want to know their boats?" Hayl asked eagerly, since he had the answers on the tip of his tongue.

  "No, lad. That one's too easy fer ya! I'll try never to give ya a question I knows ya know the answer to. Them Ships' are both loaded up and ready to head out, which will make us the cock-o'-the walk here. So tell me what they's loaded with? What's their cargo, lad, where do they come from, an what cargo did they bring from those worlds?

  "Cargo?" squeaked the middie in dismay. "How would anyone know that?"

  "A veteran ossifer could make a pretty good guess. And a good Ship's ossifer would make it his job to find out! What's sellin'? What's good to get from each port? Tha's yer job now, lad. Knowin' that kind of info is key to the success of yer Ship! And it ain't just the purser's job. By the Lady, it's ever'body's job! So find out, an' brief me on it, asap."

  "Aye, sir," replied the middie. He gazed out on the bustling Pier with a look of dismay. Then with a visible effort he took on an aspect of dogged determination that made the old Sailing Master laugh. The boy's a right plucked one all right! thought Hans. He'll do. He'll do jist fine.

  Show Low. From the name you would expect that it was a planet run by gamblers, a casino world. A whole world named after a game of poker! Instead, the world had started as a farming paradise, with a climate and soil that made attractive and bountiful propositions of both farming and ranching.

  So this colony, by virtue of its ability to resupply the Westerness Navy's two-space fleets, as well as its attractive location on the Rim, made it an excellent hub for travel up and down the western edge of the spiral arm, and an ideal launch point for expeditions across the Far Rift. This created more and more trade, bringing increasing quantities of money, business, and lawlessness to the capital city of Lowball.

  While there were casinos by the score in Lowball, there were also restaurants, theaters, bars, taverns, and sporting events. And, of course, there were establishments euphemistically referred to as "sporting houses" where ladies of negotiable virtue could be found.

  Thus, the Fangs finally had an opportunity to sink into the fleshpots of a major port and seek wine, women, and song. But not necessarily in that order. Wine and song the Fangs had been enjoying in moderation on a daily basis. And women were periodically available during the Dance on many of the worlds they had visited. But Lowball provided an environment that combined great quantities of wine and song with an endless supply of willing, attractive young women. At least it was an "endless supply" until their money ran out.

  In other words, Lowball had all the basic ingredients for a port call where a crew with prize money to burn could relax and cut loose. But it was also infamous for its lawlessness and violence. The spirit of the endeavor was communicated by an old ballad sung by one sailor as he staggered back aboard Ship:

  "Oh, I've traded tomorrow for today.

  But goin' up was worth comin' down!

  Yeah I had lots of money

  Which I spent,

  Like it was goin' out of style!

  Now I'm content!

  Wearin' my memories like a smile.

  "Yeah, I've traded tomorrow for today.

  But goin' up was worth comin' down!"

  After a few days of hard work, the officers also were given the chance to take shore leave.

  "Clothes make the man," said Fielder, admiring his perfectly tailored uniform as the Ship's officers met in the wardroom prior to departing the Ship. "Naked people have little or no impact on society."

  "Beauty's only skin deep," growled Broadax in reply, "but ugly goes all da way to da bone."

  "So, when we get off the Ship would you like for me to call you a cab, or should I just whistle and have the flying monkeys bring you your broom?" Fielder's monkey eeked at the jest, and reached down to straighten his lapel.

  Broadax growled briefly and chewed on her stogie, but her heart just wasn't in it. "I've got plans fer this liberty, I do!" She laughed gleefully as her monkey puffed out a toxic cloud to equal hers. "We got da best damned cook in the Navy. Nobudy on any o' these pitiful li'l planets can't match Jones' cookin'. Nope. But beer! Lager, stout an' all their li'l brothers are jist callin' fer a girl 'at knows how ta treat 'em. An' then I gots me a few udder plans, I do!"

  She glanced over at Hans, and gave a girlish giggle that sounded like gravel being crunched underfoot, winking in what she obviously believed was a sly manner. The old salt gave her a goofy grin, and then spat through the open port in unison with his monkey. Everyone in the wardroom tried simultaneously to pretend they hadn't noticed the byplay and to erase the thought of Hans and Broadax having "plans" together.

  Fielder suppressed a shudder and shook his head. "Well, personally, I plan on finding the finest restaurant in town, and getting around the biggest, freshest, tenderest steak that money can buy, followed by an equally fresh and tender young lady!"

  "I didn't know you knew anyone on Show Low, Daniel," Asquith replied confusedly. "Is this one of those Navy things, a girl in every port and all that?"

  "More like a port in ever' girl!" cackled old Hans.

  Brother Theo shook his head and replied, "Well, Cuthbert, I think it's more in the nature of Lt. Fielder making acquaintance with a young lady of negotiable virtue, if you catch my drift. Not the sort of friends I could hope he makes, you understand, but perhaps this is where he will see the error of his wayward ways!"

  As Fielder started to retor
t, Gunny Von Rito stuck his bald head in the wardroom. "Excuse me, sirs. Ma'am," he added, nodding to Broadax. "Cap'n said to remind you to report to the armory in the Westerness governor's compound first. The Marines are gonna fit us out from the 'emergency supplies.'"

  Then the gunny looked at Broadax and added with a grin, "And, Lieutenant, they say they've got somethin' even a Dwarrowdelf can do some good with! So cap'n said you need to go too!"

  Broadax growled as she stroked the ax strapped to her chest. Her monkey gave a derisive "Eek!" as it looked over the top of her head to meet her eye to eye, then eeked again and yanked its head down tight to its torso. Apparently even her monkey wasn't immune to the glare from an angry Dwarrowdelf.

  Fielder nodded. "Gunny, how about the sailors? Is there sufficient stock of .45s for the men who are pistol qualified?"

  Von Rito nodded. "Aye, sir. The petty officers and sergeants have all made sure the men are buddied up with our people who are qualified and carrying .45s, and everybody's got their knife with 'em too. The marines here say they got plenty of emergency supplies an' they're making sure we know what's what here. I guess this can be a pretty rough port call, and the local boys don't want to have to be pulling nobody's chestnuts out of the fire. If you know what I mean, sir?"

  Show Low's marine armory was a surprise. Melville and his officers had expected the standard armory: a small room or building designed to withstand almost anything man or nature could throw against it, with a selection of firearms and sharp pointy objects to thrill the heart of any warrior.

  "It's a damned warehouse," breathed Fielder in awe.

  Their expectations were right in one way—it was a blockhouse, solidly built, and well-lit by gaslights and skylights. In every other way, it far exceeded their expectations.

  "Aye," Melville agreed, looking around at the neatly arranged crates stacked up to the ceiling. "I would say that the marines here have had time to build up their supply."

  "You know, Captain," said Brother Theo as he gazed around and fingered the crates with a professional eye, "the Roman legions of ancient Earth ran workshops which manufactured most of their weapons. One papyrus of the second or third century A.D. from Egypt shows small groups of men working in the workshop of the Second Legion, Traiana, on a whole range of weapons including bows, shields, broadswords and catapults. Somehow I imagine it must have felt a lot like this."

  The monk's pontification was interrupted by a big marine officer in working uniform, who walked up and saluted Melville.

  A navy captain was considerably higher in rank than a marine captain, but Melville was not a captain. By courtesy he was referred to as "captain" aboard his Ship, but he wore the one epaulet of a lieutenant on his right shoulder, indicating that he was a lieutenant in command of a Ship. Thus there was no real requirement for a marine captain to salute him. But there was something about this salute that said it came from the heart, and Melville returned the salute with a flush of pleasure. It felt good to have the respect of fellow warriors like this.

  "Captain Melville, I'm Captain Muhn Koluvitz," said the big marine, "commanding the Westerness governor's marine forces here. Welcome to Show Low. The sector's crown governor, Sir Geoffery Chudloss, asked me to extend his warmest welcome to you and your officers." He paused and waved a hand at the warehouse. "As you can see, my marines have had time and resources to prepare a stockpile of emergency supplies for future use, and some of my boys have proven themselves to be quite skillful. And the governor agreed that it would be useful for you to be properly equipped for your visit here." He chuckled. "Although our idea of proper equipage might be different from that of the Admiralty's!"

  Melville cocked an eyebrow at him in inquiry. "How so, Captain? I would think that we were a bit below the Admiralty's notice out here."

  "To be honest, sir, I would have thought so too. Governor Chudloss and I had a little heart-to-heart chat a few days ago. A heart-to-heart with the governor isn't something a lowly marine really hankers after, if you know my meaning." He shuddered slightly, with a grin.

  Broadax snickered and her monkey eeked along with her. "I think wat yer sayin', Cap'n, is ye ain't real keen on comin' ta the attention of the politicians and boo-ree-crats that done infested da higher regions o' our fine milit'ry org'nization, eh?"

  Captain Koluvitz replied thoughtfully, "Well, Lieutenant, coming to their attention doesn't bother me near as much as what their attention on you and your Ship does to my sensibilities. Captain Melville, the governor asked me to pass on an informal message from him, in two parts. Would you like to hear it here with your officers, or in private?"

  "Right here will be fine," said Melville.

  "I get the feeling," scowled Fielder, "that we're persona non grata again, and the governor isn't going to be seeing us any time soon."

  Captain Koluvitz replied with a sigh, "You are right, and wrong, but probably not for the reasons you think. The first part of the message is that the governor has received a letter from the Secretary for Colonization which passed on a request from the Admiralty. Taking out all the flowery parts, it basically says we are to expedite your arrival and departure, with emphasis on the departure, with a subtly worded hint that interaction with you would not be a 'good thing.' However, through private channels, the governor has also received a copy of the formal declaration of support from the King of Osgil, the Stolsh Ambassador to Osgil, and the Dwarrowdelf Ambassador to Osgil."

  Then the marine captain added, "Oh, and did I mention the governor also knew the late, unlamented, Sir Percival Incessant, the former Westerness Ambassador to Osgil? I won't bore you with his feelings for Sir Percy, which are apparently shared by many others, but being an enemy of Sir Percy has definitely made some friends for you."

  He smiled openly as he continued. "In any case, the governor will certainly comply with the Admiralty's guidance in this matter. However, in light of the repairs and refit necessary for your Ship (which he noted he has not yet received the request for) the governor has found it acceptable to grant your request for shore leave and liberty for your crew. And while the governor shall not receive you, Sir Geoffery Chudloss, in his private capacity, is hoping you will honor him with your presence at dinner tonight. Those of your wardroom who are able to attend are also invited. This includes your monkeys as well, since he's heard of them and is interested in meeting them."

  Melville and his officers grinned in response to this, while their monkeys lifted their heads high and eeked happily.

  "Is it true that the baby monkeys appear from nowhere? If your monkey is killed, a new one appears that has the same personality and memories as your first monkey? And if their master dies they just disappear?" asked Koluvitz, eyeing the little creatures in wonder.

  "Aye," said Melville with a shrug. "And the little buggers can do some amazing things for you in a battle. Just try not to think about it too hard, it'll only give you a headache. And the second part of Sir Geoffery's message, Captain?"

  The big marine captain sobered quickly, but the merriment in his eyes didn't stay away for long. "Watch your back, sir. Watch your back. Show Low is a dangerous, lawless place at the best of times. Sir Geoffery was sent to do some housecleaning here, but he's just getting started. Every criminal and gunslinger in the sector has been hanging out on this planet. They're all here. You name it, we've got it. Rustlers, cutthroats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperadoes and mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, half-wits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, aliens, alien agents, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswagglers, horse thieves, bull doggers, train robbers, bank robbers, ass kickers, cow punchers, and Methodists!"

  "Damn," said Melville. "Could you repeat that?"

  "Hmph," grunted Fielder scornfully. "With all due respect, I think you've both been watching too many Old Earth westerns."

  "So," continued Koluvitz with a wink, "it is best to always watch your 'six' on Show Low. But in your case there are some strong rumors floating around. We haven't been able to track them d
own, which is another reason that the marines are making sure you are properly fitted out for the current fashion in evening wear." He grinned again. "Wholly on our own authority, as standard SOP, mind you."

  Melville nodded. "We are truly in your debt."

  "Think nothing of it, sir. The industrial base here is strong enough that our initial sales of .45s to law enforcement types and rangers brought in enough to purchase a steam engine. With the steam engine and a few metal bits which had been enhanced in two-space we were able to improve our capacity, which let us build our own nitrocellulose plant. In other words, we ended up building our own firearms and ammunition plant."

  He looked embarrassed. "In all honesty, it was unintentional overkill. The men were under utilized and the project just took on a life of its own, so we expanded out and built the warehouse and firing ranges. Overall, though, not too bad for a short company!" He gazed around proudly as he escorted them to the armory's office.

  Brother Theo coughed politely. When that didn't attract the big marine officer's attention, his monkey eeped loudly which quickly caught their host's attention.

  "Your pardon, Captain, but what do you do with this abundance of 'emergency supplies'?" Brother Theo asked curiously.

  Captain Koluvitz walked back to him, looking at the monkey curiously. He replied absently, "Not much, Padre, mostly clean and maintain them, and shoot them—a lot!" He chuckled, sharing his joy at having an almost unlimited supply of warrior toys to play with. "Our pistol and rifle teams have done well in inter-sector competitions for many years now. We also sell some to law enforcement organizations, maintain a partial loadout for the local militia and their training, and whatever's left over—well, that's why they call them emergency supplies."

  Then he turned grim as he continued. "And we saw the complete report on your Ambergris exploits. The one from the King of Osgil, not the one from the Admiralty. And 'exploits' they were! I talked with Corporal Petrico as well when he was function-checking all the weapons for issue. As a result of this information the governor has decided to authorize a new warehouse, and some additional workshops as well, out of the sector trading funds. We want to have enough BARs and .45s to equip a few battalions, at least. Eventually, we hope to do something similar with the other planets in our sector.