The Stones of Nomuru
- Автор: Де Камп Лайон Спрэг
- Серия: Viagens Interplanetarias #7
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Stones of Nomuru». Краткое содержание книги:
Mild-mannered Terra archeologist Keith Salazar was just minding his business, digging up the alien past on an out-of-the-way site on the planet Kukulcan, when suddenly he was beseiged by intruders on his scholarly peace: hostile natives, an indifferent ex-wife, and a demon developer with rapacious eyes glued on both his site and his true love.
In the course of protecting his dig, regaining his loved one and vanquishing his rival, Salazar will fight a giant reptilian predator bare-handed, leap into snake-filled pits, engineer the planet's first imperial conquest, lead and train a battalion of alien riflemen, and hold a séance. Pretty exciting work--but then maybe Keith Salazar wasn't such a milquetoast after all...
When Shta ran down, Salazar said: "We hear thy words, O mortal, and shall consider them. Let the next minister speak!"
Gakki in turn advanced her argument, that electronic devices harmed ancestral spirits. The ghost retorted: "We speak to thee over these same devices. If the machine cause us pain, should we not know it? We do assure thee that these things be harmless to us who dwell beyond. Let the next minister speak!"
After the last minister had had a say, Salazar rasped: "Ye are right to suspect the Terrans and hold them at a distance. Yet in this case, the use of Terran guns is the lesser evil; without them ye shall surely be overborne and slaughtered."
Shta burst out: "But, great lord, do consider ..." He began to repeat his previous argument.
Knowing the Kookish tendency to orate by the hour, Salazar thundered: "Silence, O mortal! Thou hast had thy say. Know that we seldom meddle in the affairs of the living; but when they summon us from our well-earned rest to beg advice and then flout our counsel, we wax wroth! Moreover, we can make our displeasure manifest on the material plane, thus!"
Salazar listened tensely through long seconds of silence. Then a mighty crash announced the toppling of the torchere. Guttural cries and scuffling ensued as a couple of Kooks leaped up from the table and bolted out the door that led to the main corridor.
Feigning concern for the welfare of the Empress, Salazar rushed into the séance room, now bathed in light from the lamps in the corridor. Kara remained seated, leaning back with her eyes closed and gasping as one just rescued from drowning. Salazar went solicitously to her, feeling her forehead and patting her hands, saying:
"Are you all right, darling?"
"Don't spoil my act," she breathed. Little by little she gave the appearance of returning to normal. At last she turned to the Empress, saying:
"Your Majesty, the spirit of Simmo has departed. May I rest now?"
"I should hope so!" said Gariko in English. "You have frightened us more than the Choshas ever could." In Feënzuo she added: "The meeting is adjourned. We shall expect our ministers tomorrow at the usual time. May you all enjoy good health! ..."
Two mornings later, on the drill field, Salazar inspected the soldiers chosen for him by the Minister of War. At length he asked General Shta: "Are these your picked companies?"
"Aye, they are," said the general coldly.
"Then I should hate to see your discards," growled Salazar, for the line of 120 Feënzurin was the most unsoldierly lot of Kookish soldiers he had seen. Although they were supposed to be standing at attention, they slouched and squatted and held their muskets every which way. Salazar was sure that to demand another lot from the hostile Shta would effect no improvement.
"Where are my officers?" he asked.
The Kooks's tongue flicked. "I must tell you that none is willing to serve beneath an alien."
More likely, the archaeologist thought, Shta had quietly passed the word that any officer who served under Salazar would thenceforth find himself in the Kookish equivalent of the doghouse. He addressed the line of soldiers:
"Attention! Right, face! Left, face! About, face ...!"
After some more commands, Salazar went down the line and pulled out six soldiers who had obeyed with more snap than the rest. These he lined up and commanded: "Forward, march! To the rear, march! Halt! ..."
Eventually he chose three of the six, made one his captain and the other two his lieutenants—or his sergeant and corporals, depending on how one translated the Kookish terms.
"Now," he told his new officers, "arm yourselves with those sticks used for punishment." When this had been done, he led the trio down the line. Whenever they passed a recruit who was not standing correctly, Salazar said: "Hit him!"
Salazar knew how tough Kooks were; a blow that would cripple or kill a Terran would merely sting a Kook's leathery hide. Nonetheless, after a few had been whacked, the rest straightened up remarkably.
Later, lying exhausted on the cushions in their suite, Salazar told Kara: "May I never have another such day! I wish my predecessors at the Museum had bought a few machine guns instead of a gross of rifles. A machine gun has the firepower of a section of riflemen, without the riflemen. As it is, Shta is determined that the experiment shall fail. So he sent me picked men all right; a selection ranging from bad to worst."
"Seems he'd rather lose the war than see someone else get the credit?"
"Not exactly. Such a leader often rationalizes his jealousy by assuming that his way is necessarily the best. Terran history is full of examples of this self-delusion."
"Think you can make soldiers out of that ragtag collection?"
"I intend to try. Been thinking of ways to boost their morale."
"How soon will they be ready to fight?" she asked.
"Depends on how fast they shape up and learn to hit a target. A week at least."
"But the Choshas may invade any day!"
Salazar shrugged. "Nothing I can do about that. Sending this gang against them without training would be throwing them away, the way a British general threw away the Light Brigade."
"But if you use up your ammunition in target practice, you won't have any when the real shooting starts."
"Luckily, the people who stored the rifles did one thing right; they packed a couple of hundred rounds for every rifle. If I use twenty or thirty rounds for practice, there will still be enough for a battle, provided my Rangers aim their shots. Untrained soldiers tend merely to spray landscape with lead."
For nearly a sixtnight, Salazar sweated to whip his raw companies into shape. Mornings were given to drill—simple commands for marching and more complex maneuvers in open order for fighting. He taught his Kooks to take cover, to advance by rushes, and other features of later Terran warfare. Minister Shta remarked:
"Sarasara, such conduct on the battlefield is unheard of! It is disgraceful for warriors, instead of standing bravely facing the foe, to skulk behind trees and crawl on their bellies!"
"In a Terran war," mused Salazar, "centuries ago, a general named Braddock thought as you do. He was routed and slain."
"Well, play your silly games," said Shta. "Since nought will come of your heretical ideas, it matters not what tactics you employ. You barbaric aliens do no end of crazy things." With his reptilian jaw set in scorn, he strode off.
Afternoons were given to target practice. For the first few days, Salazar's Kooks practiced without ammunition, going through the motions of lying prone, working their bolts, and squeezing triggers. Several times, the Empress was driven to the drill field in her steam car to watch her soldiers' progress.
One evening, Salazar told Kara: "They're coming along better than I expected; Kooks, being very literal-minded, are good at following exact directions. I've forbidden them to touch the button that sets one of these guns on full automatic, lest they shoot off a whole clip in a couple of seconds." A knock interrupted. "Yes?"
A palace flunky bowed. "Her Imperial Majesty desires the honorable Sarasara's presence."
"Get on with your notes, Kara," said Salazar. "I'll return as soon as I can."
The Empress received the archaeologist in the audience room. "Sarasara, I have had word from a spy that Kampai is massing on his border. Are you ready to march?"
"If occasion demands, Your Majesty. I could spend a year training your soldiers and see improvement every day; but we shall do the best we can."
"Can you march tomorrow?"
"Perhaps not at dawn, but soon enough. Where do we go?"