The Shasht War (22 page)

As a scientist he was elated. He was onto something, something big, but the outlines were still fuzzy. And thinking that the plague was a small life-form made Filek wonder if he could find some substance that could be fed or injected into men that would destroy it. Or at least prevent it from killing them. Such research would require infecting many men, then giving them a drug to kill the infecting life-form. By trial and error they might discover something that would save millions.

Filek was also intrigued by the fact that men who'd already had the plague once could have it again, but not nearly as seriously and with no mortality. That seemed to indicate that suffering through one bout of the disease hardened a man to the next bout. Surviving a single infection left men changed in some way. They could then resist the plague life-form. Here was a profound mystery that Filek wished to study carefully. He would need men as experimental subjects.

In the new world this would be hard to achieve, for men would be at a premium. He would have to go back to Shasht for this type of experiment. Perhaps a message to the Emperor with the news of his discovery, along with a dedication to Aeswiren, would lure the Emperor to summon him home and allow him to begin the project.

This insight of his could change the world forever.

Outside a cold wind had sprung up, coming off the sea. Low grey clouds covered the sky, making the fleet invisible as it moved out to sea.

The fort was a simple palisade with four stout towers at the corners. One of the towers doubled as the main gate. Inside were eight large sheds and several small structures. Filek headed for one of these, where he was billeted with three good-sized rooms on the second floor. Since Dogvalth had fallen sick, Filek had become the virtual commandant of the camp.

He reached his rooms and closed the door behind him, to be left alone. They were the first private place he'd had since he'd been forced to leave Shasht, which he had come to relish after such a long period aboard the crowded ships.

He examined the stack of papers on his desk. Nine more death notices, all soldiers, so the proper forms had to be filled out. But it would wait until the morning. He sat in his favorite chair, a rough-hewn construct of wood that still had the bark on it, and picked up a notebook.

A knock at the door was followed by Hottom, his personal aide, bringing up some soup and mealie biscuits for his supper.

He propped the book open before him and ate his meal while studying the figures the new bout of plague had generated. He barely tasted the food, so intent was he on the page in front of him. The twelve men in ward three, who were survivors of last summer's plague had all recovered within three days. More confirmation of his theory. That meant a total of 348 survivors of the old plague had come down with the new, and all had survived. Among the newcomers there were three more deaths. He entered the names of the latest victims on this tally and finished the soup.

After ruminating on the way the plague was progressing, he picked up Retuloge's
Pharmacy of the known Toxins
, a reference tome that Filek had been investigating as his new ideas took shape. Old Retuloge had spent his long life on this masterwork. Filek opened to the letter "T," and ran his finger down to the entry for Tars. A solid, substantial piece of work.

"These noxious black substances are to be derived from oily plants and oily tissues or organs," he read. Many interesting forms existed. "Tar of Whale was highly greasy while Tar of Vegetable smoke was like wax. There was even a Tar rendered from the livers of Eagles. The toxic effects of these substances varied. Some, perhaps most, had no effect at all. Others produced acute effects, including death.

Another knock at the door broke his concentration.

"Come in," said Filek wearily. Probably just another breach of camp rules. Most involved drunken fights ending in injuries.

The door opened, and two men shrouded in cloaks and black velvet hats entered. Alarmed, Filek jumped to his feet. Was this a visit from the Hand? Had they finally decided to put him to death?

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" he began.

And then he realized that one of the men walked with a strange gait. The cloaks were pulled back.

"Admiral?"

"Sssshhhh!" said Heuze raising a finger to his lips. The other man shut the door and stood guard.

Filek had not seen the admiral since the quarantine began.

"What is it?" Filek dropped his voice to a whisper. "Why are you here?"

"The time has come for us to make a move. We are about to take certain, actions."

"Actions?"

Heuze looked around, stepped closer, and whispered in Filek's ear.

"We have to kill the Gold Tops. We must also kill Beshezz and maybe Nebbeggebben, too."

"Oh, I see." Filek's pulse raced. He realized he was in great danger.

"No you probably don't see. Because I need you to do it with me. I cannot trust many men at this juncture."

Filek immediately saw that he would be fatally implicated in what was certain to be an offense to Aeswiren. The Hand would want his head.

Filek also knew that he could not turn the admiral down. He owed the man his life. Moreover Heuze would never forgive such a rejection.

Helplessly, Filek saw himself dragged into this dangerous operation.

"What do you need me to do?" Filek still hoped he could get away with just some medical help.

"You will come with me to see Nebbeggebben. He is feeling poorly again, and he has finally decided to let you examine him. We will take him hostage to neutralize the Hand."

Filek felt a shiver run through him.

"But I cannot break the quarantine," he said weakly.

"Believe me, Filek, if we don't get them, they are going to kill us, very shortly. Don't think you will be spared. You are much too closely identified with me for that."

"They're going to kill us?"

"Yes. That's why I have to move. It is too soon for my plans, but it can be done. Once we have Nebbeggebben, we will use him to summon the Gold Tops one by one. We will kill them as they arrive and throw them to the fishes. When the Gold Tops are dead the Red Tops will be a leaderless mob. We will dispose of them quite easily."

"If we fail..."

"Oh, if we fail then they'll have our guts for garters. The priests will work hard to purify our flesh before they grant our pleas for death. But they're going to do that anyway if we don't stop them."

"How do you know?" whispered Filek.

"I have my sources. They're planning my demise for the end of this week. Beshezz has been to see the Gold Tops several times in the past ten days. Now, when that happens they aren't gathering together to pray for my soul, that I can assure you."

"What are the chances that Nebbeggebben will see it your way and go along with this?"

"Slim, to start with, but later I think I can reconcile him to it. As long as he has nubile girls to play with, he's happy."

Filek's face must have betrayed his agitation.

"When this is done with," said the admiral, putting a hand on Filek's shoulder, "and we have Nebbeggebben's cooperation, I will send a ship back to Shasht. You will go on that ship as my personal envoy to the Emperor. I will also promote your ideas about medical practice and beg him to set you up with the resources you need for your research."

Filek's eyes lit up. Heuze smiled, knowing he had Biswas hooked.

"You would do that?"

"Of course."

He might even return to the hospital and do his research there. They would resume their old lives, except of course there'd be no Chiknulba. His darling wife had died in the plague the previous year.

Of course they wouldn't want to live at West Court. The place was too big and held too many memories of Chiknulba and their old life together. Filek thought he would apply for an apartment in the Bronkolo tower, an elegant building quite close to the hospital.

"So you're with me, Biswas?"

Filek came down from the clouds with a jerk.

"Yes, of course, sir."

It was odd how ambition came in so many different flavors, he thought.

Filek had taken a few drops of opium oil and a shot of brandy before setting out on this mad mission. It had made him quite calm for the first few minutes, but once they'd set out, with twelve handpicked seamen rowing the barge, his nerves returned. His hands shook, he was dry-mouthed and he was terrified.

He was not a man of action. But now he was going to have to be. In his traveling kit bag was the long needle that he was going to use to take control of Nebbeggebben.

Filek had never been in a fight in his life. In his school days he had avoided fights. He was mild-mannered, more comfortable in the company of women than with rough-hewn men. But now fate had thrust him into this position, and he would have to threaten another Man with death, to save his own life.

They reached the ominous black hull of
Hammer
, Nebbeggebben's ship. The net was already hanging over the side to greet them. They scrambled up to the deck, the admiral hauling himself up with his strong arms, and were met by a party of officers with an honor guard for the admiral.

While Filek looked around with anxious eyes, the drums banged and whistles blew as Heuze inspected the line of soldiers turned out to greet him.

When it was done, the captain of the ship came forward.

"Come this way, Lord Admiral," he said, and then ushered them through several doors and into Nebbeggebben's presence.

Filek remembered the room. Very spacious, well-polished floors and pillars. The uncomfortable throne chair for the heir.

Tall, withered Nebbeggebben sat on the throne looking out of sorts. In one hand he held his cane, a heavy ebony rod capped with a silver death's head.

A wide couch crowded one side of the room, with a table beside it cluttered with objects. Clearly, Nebbeggebben spent most of his time lying down.

Heuze and Filek knelt and knocked their heads on the floor. He let a second or two pass before speaking. Just to let them know who was in charge.

"You have come promptly, I thank you for that."

Heuze spoke while lifting his head a few inches from the floor.

"I am most concerned about Your Revered Majesty's health. It is time you listened to the good surgeon Filek Biswas. He is bringing about a revolution in how we treat our wounded and sick. Our losses are far less than all of our predictions. I can say with all honesty, Your Revered Majesty, that this is going to change many things."

"Hah," snorted the heir. "And one-third of the entire expedition died last summer. And I was left like this. Weak, barely able to sit up."

"Yes, Your Revered Majesty, that is sadly true, but the good Filek Biswas was not responsible for that plague. He has a theory concerning such illnesses. He will be happy to tell you of his ideas, if you wish."

"Bah, I hear enough mad ideas from the priests. They are always at me, worrying away with their suspicions. Oh, yes, you should hear what they say about you, Admiral."

Heuze kept his gaze rooted on the floor in front of Nebbeggebben's platform-soled shoes.

The heir snapped his fingers.

"Oh, damn it, look up, stop groveling. I do so hate it when it goes on too long."

"My apologies, Revered Majesty."

"And stop apologizing all the time. Anyway, the priests think I should order you lopped and pressed down to the slave deck. They say you threw away a great victory and put my army at risk by going too far inland. They say you hunger for glory and that you desire to take my head."

"Lord, the priests speak with twisted tongues. You know that. I am no threat to you. I wish merely to serve my master and bring about the safe implantation of our colony on this new world."

Heuze did not bother to defend his record. Nebbeggebben knew perfectly well that the generals were politically acceptable nincompoops and only Heuze could be trusted with the army. Hadn't the admiral beaten one enemy army ashore and then fought a rousing retreat to the sea pursued by a much larger horde of the monkeys?

"Yes, yes, yes, of course. Well, I think you can still be trusted. I read your reports. You caught the enemy while his force was separated, and you destroyed them. All reports concur. Very good work. Our spirits were greatly lifted at the time. And I admit that I agreed with your plan to push on into the interior in pursuit of the broken enemy. When you found their infernal anthill, I think you were right to invest it and put it to the torch."

Listening to this favorable treatment, Filek wondered if the admiral had miscalculated. Perhaps Nebbeggebben really did want to keep Heuze alive. Perhaps he was not going along with what the priests wanted.

"But then you became careless. Then you were caught in a perilous situation by a sudden attack." Nebbeggebben's voice had grown harsh. "They caught you napping!"

Filek and Heuze stared down at the floor again.

"Your men were inexcusably absent, looting the infernal monkey hill. For that alone they should be decimated!"

And if this army was in Shasht, they would have been. But they were in the new land, and every man was vital.

"And from that moment on you were on the defensive. You never regained the initiative."

The silence was awful. Once again, Filek feared they were about to be sentenced to death. Heuze, he knew, had a smuggled knife hidden in his shirt, but Filek didn't think he could bring himself to resist. Then, suddenly, Nebbeggebben's voice changed pitch. The tirade turned off.

"However, you were outnumbered. I understand how difficult it can be. The enemy are not the stupid animals that the priests would have us believe."

Filek took a breath, the sweat congealed on his brow. They would live, for now. Nebbeggebben had turned to more interesting topics, like his health.

"All right, enough. It is time for more important matters. Attend me, physician."

Heuze knocked his head again and withdrew to the middle of the room. The guards retreated with him. One on either side, armed with spear and sword. Heuze had to kneel but could raise his body upright leaning on his crutch. A slave stood behind him and stroked a cymbal to make a constant sound so that Heuze would hear none of what transpired between Nebbeggebben and Filek.