The Chronicles of Misty

by Ed Hurst

  Chapter 40: Proposal

  As they walked out into the main plaza of the village, Fortis stopped and planted his feet, arms crossed and faced Samir. “I find it utterly repugnant that someone would be pressured to marry me without having some idea what she is up against, and have a chance to veto. The only reason I even consider your offer is because, while I can always find another secretary, there is only one other person on this planet whose wisdom I would trust as much as yours. And he is no longer available to me.”

  Samir bowed low. “By whatever means necessary, Sir, I would have persisted. I am the last to pretend I could have any great part in the things ahead, but I could not simply forget the deep burden of sorrow in my heart for what I see coming to Misty. That destruction will come cannot be avoided. What beckons those hideous forces is the one thing we must preserve and propagate. Striking us will only scatter what threatens them to more places, until they are surrounded. The lamp of truth cannot be put out until the End of All Things. We fail only if we do not try.”

  Fortis decided he would pay almost any price to be reminded of that often. “So how do we proceed? What is the custom here?”

  Samir escorted him to a public bench, asking him to wait a short time. Then the boy trotted off down the street. Fortis gave himself to what Samir had said was coming. Something inside him had embraced it even as the young man spoke, as if he had simply recognized something inherent in all he had learned up to that moment. Suddenly, there was no real hurry, yet there was an urgency of a completely different kind.

  It was the same as everything else on Misty, formality and simplicity in a mixture he could never predict. Samir returned a few minutes later and asked him to follow. The main street wound through tents which, though rather neatly lined up, still followed a somewhat winding course parallel to the coast. One turn inland and a few tents down, the young man stopped. “In honor of your wishes, I ask you to wait here a moment.” Samir stepped into the tent.

  Fortis could hear some discussion inside, then the curtain across the door parted a moment, but not enough for him to see inside. Having learned the dramatic regal bearing which was expected, Fortis stood waiting with his arms across his chest. There was more hurried discussion inside, and Fortis gathered Samir was no longer the only one surprised to see him. Finally, the boy returned.

  “Sir, she has echoed your scruples, and wishes you the opportunity to reject her, as well. Will you come inside?” He stood with the curtain held back.

  Fortis played the role and stepped inside, and took two paces. He found himself in a vestibule separated from the rest of the ten by a wall sewn into the tent. She stepped out through an opening. It was not some magic moment. Her appearance was fairly ordinary, with long dark hair, a relatively short stature, and slender figure. Naturally, her eyes were cast down, because under these circumstances, only a prostitute would look him in the eye.

  Searching internally, he saw no reason to object. If any portion of what Samir had said was true, there was little time to waste over story book romance. “My name is Fortis Plimick. What do they call you?”

  It was barely audible. “Kalila.”

  Fortis looked at Samir, who motioned a question, then pointed at himself. In his best authoritative voice, Fortis said, “I accept the offer.”

  Wide in shock, her eyes met his for just a few seconds. Then several people came spilling out of the inner room, as they milled around and decorated Kalila with some lacy fabric. Samir walked over to Fortis. “Because we are not at our home, there is little else to do but travel to the city and let the Sheik know he has lost a servant. He will protest relative to how much he values her service. Then he will send you both away with gifts.”

  Fortis replied, “Given what we have discussed, I would say we have no time to waste – Son.” Samir flushed and grinned. Fortis went on, “Where do we get some transportation?”

  Chapter 41: Back to School

  It was as if everyone simply stepped into their new roles without transition. They were husband and wife, with a nearly grown son, heading off to Nadul City on a fast wagon trip. Actually, it was the same rig and animals Kalila had borrowed for the vacation, now cut short by a few days. She offered not the slightest objection or hesitation, just looked at Fortis with adoring eyes and jumped into his world with both feet.

  The Sheik was caught off guard completely. Fortis doubted the grousing about stealing an important servant was entirely formality, and wondered if he would be allowed to leave with her. Eventually, the scene ended and they were preparing to pack those few things she was interested in taking to her new life. She sent Samir to fetch in various neighbors to whom she gave various parts of her accumulated goods. Among the gifts carted to the door from the Sheik were precisely the things they would need for their journey, and little more. This included a travel tent and lightweight furnishings. They were, of course, in the blue and tan colors of Nadul.

  The Captain groused on a little at loading the extra baggage when Fortis finally returned to the ship. This time, Fortis knew it was all good natured, because the Captain winked before climbing to his bridge. Taking advantage of the voyage time to Johnston Island, the trio discussed the work of opening an academy and writing a curriculum. What Fortis already had was now revised greatly. Kalila hardly argued with her son’s thesis. Fortis found himself slightly confused by the odd feeling of wondering, on the one hand, how he got along without them, and on the other hand, how it seemed there was no transition at all. It was not just instant family, but instant partnership.

  When at last they bid the Captain and his crew farewell, Fortis was looking forward to seeing their new home in Johnston City. At his request, the Council funded and Sheik Johnston built an all-wood structure with quite a large number of rooms for housing. His explanation for not having his students stay in tents, as most of the religion students did just a short distance away, was to prepare them for living in the rest of the galaxy. Fortis knew of no other planet where tents were the norm.

  It had been a year and five months since parting from his friend. George had been at the pole most of that time. Whatever he had negotiated bore significant fruit. Already Fortis was seeing message birds with reed-stiffened wings, and even a few with tiny motors. A new class of batteries was shipping, along with prepackaged wind chargers. One trading applicant as a free offer had placed a permanent satellite in orbit, and four birds to fly up and dock with it. George had emphasized communications first, and then began with the heavier machinery. Johnston Island had already installed high capacity wind generators in the city, one attached to the new Foreign Service Academy.

  Fortis was almost in shock, standing in his apartment, attached to the back side of the four-story building. Several modern conveniences he had not seen in over two years awaited him, with the power to run them. “This is the beginning of the end, Son.” Samir agreed silently. Once Kalila absorbed the situation, she went to work making it home.

  There were several messages from George waiting. It’s not as if he had forgotten the new birds traveled faster than Fortis could reply. Rather, each was an update on the situation. The various trade deals and feelers for embassies were mounting quickly, but the one thing which caught his attention was the notice a small colony of “seekers” had set up, paying a premium for authentic tents outside the official Port facilities, with their own electric fence and the older light-sensitive charging system. At first, George was delighted with teaching religious mysticism, but it quickly became too great a burden. He had already called for and brought in a few religion professors, mostly out of retirement. Naturally, Fortis showed this to his wife and son.

  They all stopped and prayed together in a small circle.

  Fortis composed a condensed version of Samir’s warning, had Kalila transcribe it, and sent it on one of the new fast birds, along with a summary of events.

  The new students began arriving the next week.

  Chapter 42: Buying Time

  It wa
s to become the standard introductory lecture.

  “You were warned before: Most of you will never make it back home to Misty. You must take Misty with you.

  “Business and trade here on Misty will never proceed in a hurry. Wherever you go as trade ambassadors, do not allow anyone to create for you an atmosphere of dizzying rapid changes. Do not attempt to adapt yourself. If they want what we have, they must slow down to our pace once they get here. They must become acquainted with that pace through your services there.

  “Recognize and make room for their ways of doing things on their turf. Nothing you do can change them, but your whole mission is to expose them to our ways. Trade is simply how we get their attention. Once in place, bring your world with you. Where you are, Misty is. We should expect Misty to outlive us, even if Misty as a physical reality is destroyed. Misty is how humanity should live, not because we are better than they, but because our centuries of peace and stability are the showcase of life lived God’s way.

  “We do not demand arrogantly anyone follow this way. We simply show it, offer it to those who feel drawn. Any part of Misty they can use, allow them take it and make it their own. The very nature of Misty is loving sacrifice, not control.”

  It was most important that the future ambassadors be deeply committed before they understood what they would face.

  “You can memorize these lectures, know beyond all doubt what they mean, but if the words and ideas are all you know, I have failed. The words and ideas simply represent things for which there are no words. But this is what we have to work with, so I will provide for you a short list of concepts which must color all our studies, and continue to color your whole existence throughout the future.

  “You must be transparent at all times. It matters not a whit what they hide, mask, emulate, or show. Find out what passes for brutal honesty in their culture and live there. Never step outside it for any reason, or you cease of have any reason for being there.

  “Their needs, relative to what we can provide, must remain your ostensible mission. If they do not get the sense we care, we have nothing to offer. Cultivate business contacts on the basis of what you can do for them.

  “At the same time, you have absolutely no control over the results. You go with a mandate to offer only what we have. There is no need for negotiating anything, because there are no exceptions for anyone. The only question is relative exchange value. If they cannot meet a certain minimum, you cannot help them. If you go and offer our best, you cannot possibly fail.”

  He had encouraged his wife and son to adopt the students as distant cousins, to make them feel at home. He was particularly interested in seeing Samir’s character rub off on them, and to hear his predictions. If anyone became uncomfortable with it, they were given time to adjust. If they could not, they were allowed to go home. Until they passed the initial test of shock, the details of the broader galactic culture and laws would mean little.

  By now, the new message birds made the round trip to the pole in less than a week. George backed Samir’s expectations. The colony of seekers were at first content to absorb the slow pace of life, and learn first hand what mattered most to folks on Misty. Some got it, and returned home with a fresh other-worldly perspective. They knew it hardly mattered where your body resided, what mattered was whether your spirit lived. That they had previously been the cutting edge of their respective cultures gave them leverage to share the message.

  As time went on, though, the groups were larger, and less pure in their motives. Natural to Misty’s teachers was the ability to discern and cull the herd, as it were, to ensure those who were open got what they came for, while the rest were fed a strict diet of religious law. It was the best they could do. Knowing there would arise a cultic false version did not justify purging the seekers of those so minded. In due time, they separated themselves. A precious few were allowed to graduate and visit Johnston Island.

  They paid their way, as it were, by guest lecturing on whatever suited them before the Foreign Service classes. It always provided Fortis with a depth and a chance to show how such things could be evaluated. But truly, seeing Johnston Island was so very much like seeing the rest of Misty, it was as far as they were ever allowed. A short stay, and then it was back to the Polar Space Port.

  George established flexible policies as things developed. So it was with Fortis graduating his students: Some were ready early, and some took longer. So at about the same time the first few graduates embarked as passengers on ships returning to their new homes as trade consuls, it became necessary to restrict travel for off-worlders. Several science missions had come to evaluate what made energy fields fail on Misty. The results were inconclusive as to why, but simply confirmed it with solid, consistent experimental evidence.

  So as more and better equipment was being designed to work for sale on Misty, so were the technologies for travel. That is, some proposed to bring aircraft too expensive for trade, but for their own use in facilitating contacts on Misty. Even after being warned, some brought them anyway. George had to threaten armed force more than once, and only superior numbers against the small bodyguard allowed prevented worse trouble. It was only the necessity of using smaller ships to land in the limited space, to actually have a chance to trade, which kept some from bringing troop ships to force things. Plus, the activity created enough of a scent to draw the predators. Apparently swimming from island to island, they were now fairly numerous outside the port fence.

  George had known all along it was only a matter of time. Something had warned him even before Samir’s message came, which simply put into words what his spirit knew. He did his best to slow the approach of trouble, not because he had any hope of stopping it, but to give Fortis ample time to plant the seeds of truth in enough fertile minds to ensure the ultimate mission of Misty would continue.

  Meanwhile, the message birds quickly spread the need to anticipate efforts by the off-world traders to corrupt Misty. The Council quickly agreed nothing could be called an improvement if it compromised the nature of their existence.

  Chapter 43: Not What One Might Expect

  The first infiltrator stowed away in an equipment crate. Upon arriving at the port of destination, he was found when the stevedores opened the crate which was too big to fit on any wagons. He was held at the harbor, then returned on the next ship to the Pole.

  The next three were caught each a little farther along their path, as they gained better understanding of life on Misty. Each was caught simply because they were forced to lie, and were caught at it. It’s not as if people on Misty didn’t deceive each other at times, but there was no room in the culture for winning that way. The social penalties were too excessive. It was apparently the hardest lesson for the traders to learn.

  Eventually, they caught on, and managed to avoid any confrontations with citizens until they were near their targets. At first, it was simply trying to gain a confederate in any of the clans who would work with them on bypassing George’s controls. When the first few offers were rejected, and no terms seemed sweet enough to tempt their targets, there was a lull in the espionage for a time.

  Eventually the efforts shifted mostly to seeking direct access to resources and to the technology. However, whatever it was making energy fields fail on Misty was somehow related to how the technologies worked, and most copies made off-world from Misty were easily spotted as imitations. When one fellow managed to spirit out a small load of cut wood, and attempted to apply heat, moisture and pressure as was done on Misty, the result was pulp, not something nearly as hard as iron. Then came the ships attempting to land on the isolated northern islands. But this was dicey at best, requiring craft with extensive chemical-based maneuver capabilities, and almost no spot they landed was large enough to establish facilities.

  When the rangers discovered the remnants of a couple of failed efforts, George – indeed, the whole Council of Sheiks – wondered how much longer things would hold up. The culture and laws were resilient enough,
and with the forced primitive conditions which made Misty such a perfect home for them, things were going quite well. The magnitude of what they had to trade, and how much they could use in exchange, limited the possibilities. The traders were not the problem.

  The final threat came to life almost unnoticed. Kalila spotted a small notice within the hyperspace radio traffic. It was a fragment using terminology she had not seen before. She asked Fortis about it, and he almost dismissed it. Then something clicked.

  “It’s a debate invitation. Some religious philosophy group is hosting a debate not too far from here, in terms of space travel. Now I remember them. Nasty bunch, because they talk about peace, but it’s just a code word for crushing any thing which smacks of dissent. They are just about as opposite from us as can be, because they cling to serious legalism. They proclaim something which sounds like mysticism, but is in disguise entirely rational and logical. They were outlawed several times in different parts of the galaxy because they spawned fascist movements. I thought they were gone. Keep an eye on this.”

  He consulted his spooler, then gave her a list of terms and names likely to be connected. That night he had a long discussion with Samir.

  “You know, Son, we’ve seen the energy weapons continue to fail here. We’ve seen the scientists puzzle over what causes it, and not yet find out. Do you suppose they’ll ever get past that?”

  Samir thought for a moment. “For now, I feel certain God Himself is doing it. That’s not meant to be simplistic dodge, but I honestly believe it’s an ongoing miracle.”

  Fortis, looked down a moment, then raised his head, cocked it to one side. “Let’s build on that as a fact. Science will not get past the failure of energy fields here. Nothing we have in material terms justifies an invasion, so training troops in the use of weapons which work here would not be worth it. What would be worth it?”

  “False religion.”

  “So if some crazy madman gets stirred up by demon gods, what could he do to attack us? How could we be threatened?”