The Dark Design

  “Whoever made this world had pushed the stuff there, you know, as if by a gigantic bulldozer. Then the rock had been put over it, then the soil, then the grass.”

  Podebrad had gotten the minerals out, was, in fact, still bringing them up. All his people were armed with steel weapons now. And New Bohemia had expanded from its 12-kilometer-long boundaries to 60 kilometers on both sides of The River.

  However, this had not been done by conquest. Neighboring states had asked to be absorbed, and Podebrad had welcomed them. There was wealth enough for all.

  Meanwhile, other states along here had launched their own digging projects. They had been at it about three years but had gained only sweat, worn-out tools, and disappointment.

  Podebrad’s original site seemed to be the only one to contain minerals. Or else other dumpheaps—as Emil called them—were buried even deeper.

  Emil pointed at the hills.

  “Our own country has a hole sixty meters deep. But it’s being filled up now. The caprock is dolomite. Podebrad was lucky. His was soft limestone.”

  Frigate thanked them and excitedly hurried off. As a result, the Razzle Dazzle anchored off the bank of Podebrad’s capital eleven days later.

  The crew smelled New Bohemia half a day before arriving at its southern limits. The fumes of sulfur and coal stank throughout the area.

  High earth walls had been erected along the banks. Steel weapons, including flintlock firearms, were everywhere. The River was patrolled by four large steam-powered paddle-wheeled boats, each carrying two cannons, and a large number of smaller boats with machine guns.

  The crew of the Razzle Dazzle were astonished. Also, somewhat depressed. The fair valley was blighted. For too long, they had taken the clean air and pure blue skies, the green plains and hills, for granted.

  Nur asked a local why it was necessary to foul the land and make all those weapons.

  “We had to do so,” the man said. “If we hadn’t, then other states would have tried to take our ores away from us. And they would have embarked on conquest by arms. We made the weapons for self-defense.

  “Of course, we make other artifacts, too. We trade these, and we get more tobacco, liquor, food, and ornaments than we can use.”

  The man patted his fat paunch.

  Nur smiled and said, “The grails provide enough for any person’s needs and some luxuries, too. Why tear up the land and make a stench to get far more than you need?”

  “I just told you why.”

  “It would have been best to have filled up the hole again,” Nur said. “Or never to have dug it in the first place.”

  The man shrugged. Then, looking surprised, he walked up to Rider.

  “Say, aren’t you the movie star Tom Mix?”

  Tom smiled and said, “Not me, amiko. People have told me I look a little like him, though.”

  “I saw you… him… when he came to Paris during his European tour. I was on a business trip then, and I stood in the crowds and cheered you… him… as he rode along on Tony. It was a great thrill for me. He was my favorite cowboy actor.”

  “Mine, too,” Tom said, and he turned away.

  Frigate called the captain and first mate to one side.

  “You look excited, Pete,” Martin Farrington said. “You must be thinking of the same thing Tom and I were discussing just a minute ago.”

  Frigate said, “Now, how could you do that? What is it?”

  Martin looked sidewise at Tom and smiled. “Sure, what else could it be? We were talking about, just speculating, mind you, about how nice it would be if we had one of those small steamboats.”

  Frigate was astonished. “That wasn’t what I was thinking of! What do you mean, you’d steal it?”

  “Sort of,” Tom drawled. “They could always make another one. We were thinking of how much faster we could get upRiver on one of those handy-dandy paddle wheelers.”

  “Aside from the ethics of the thing,” Frigate said, “it’d be dangerous. I assume they guard them at night.”

  “Look who’s talking of ethics,” Martin said. “You stole your spear and bow and arrows, remember?”

  “Not really. I had made them myself. They were mine.”

  “It was stealing,” Martin said. He gave one of his wonderfully charming smiles and slapped Frigate on the shoulder. “No need to get huffy. Your need was greater than the state’s, and you took something that could be easily replaced. We’re in the same situation. We need to get upRiver a lot faster.”

  “Not to mention a lot more comfortably,” Tom said.

  “You want us to risk getting killed?”

  “Would you volunteer? I wouldn’t order anybody to do this. If you don’t care to do it, you won’t peach on us, will you?”

  “Of course not!” Frigate said, getting red in the face again. “I’m not objecting because I’m afraid! Listen, I’d do it, if it was necessary. But what I have in mind is not that. It’s something that would get us far north a hell of a lot faster than a steamboat.”

  “You mean have this Podebrad build us a speedboat?” Martin said. “A steam yacht?”

  “No, I don’t. I mean something that won’t go up The River. It’ll go over it!”

  “Rub me for a saddlesore,” Tom said. “You mean an airplane?”

  Tom looked eager. Martin turned pale.

  “No, that wouldn’t work. I mean, a plane could get us a lot farther faster. But we’d have to land several times and make more fuel, and there’s no way of making more.

  “No, I’m thinking about another type of air travel.”

  “You can’t be thinking of a balloon?”

  “Sure, why not? A balloon, or, better yet, a blimp.”

  Tom Rider liked the idea.

  Farrington said, “No! It’s too dangerous! I don’t trust those fragile gasbags. Besides, you’d have to use hydrogen, right? Hydrogen can catch fire like that!”

  He snapped his fingers.

  “In addition, they’re easy prey for strong winds and storms. Also, where are you going to dredge up a blimp pilot? Airplane pilots should be easy to find, though personally I’ve only run into two. Furthermore, we’d have to be its crew, and that means we’d have to be trained. What if we don’t have the knack for it? There’s another reason…”

  “A yellow streak?” Tom said, smiling.

  Martin reddened, and his hands balled. “How’d you like a few teeth knocked out?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Tom Rider said. “But take it easy, Frisco, I was just trying to think of more reasons why we can’t do it. Help you along, sort of.”

  Frigate knew that Jack London had never taken any interest in flying. Yet a man who had lived so adventurously, who had always been pugnaciously courageous, and who was also very curious, should have been eager to go up in the newfangled machine.

  Was it possible that he was afraid of the air?

  It could be. Many a person who seemed to be afraid of nothing on earth was scared of leaving it. It was one of those quirks of human character, nothing to be ashamed of.

  Nevertheless, Martin might be ashamed to show fear.

  Frigate admitted to himself that he had some of that brand of shame. He had gotten rid of some, but there was too much residue left. He was not afraid to admit a fear if there was a rational reason to do so. To reveal fear if it had an irrational basis was still difficult for him.

  Farrington’s reaction did have some logic. It could be dangerous, perhaps even foolish, to go in a blimp in the unavoidably uncertain conditions.

  Nur and Pogaas were called in to hear Frigate’s new idea. Frigate proceeded to tell them what the perils might be.

  “Nevertheless, considering the time saved, it’s more efficient, more economical, to go in a blimp. Actually, considering the time a blimp would take as against the time a boat would take, you’ll encounter many more dangers in a boat.”

  “Damn it, I’m not afraid of danger! You know better than that! It’s just that…”
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  Martin’s voice trailed off.

  Tom smiled.

  Farrington said, “What are you grinning about? You look like a skunk eating shit!”

  Pogaas grinned also.

  “There’s no need to get all fired up about this just now,” Tom said. “First we have to find out what the Big Cheese, Podebrad, will do for us. More than likely, he won’t build us a gasbag. Why should he? But let’s mosey on up to his house and see what he has to say about this.”

  Nur and Pogaas had more pressing business, so the captain, first mate, and deckhand walked toward a large limestone building pointed out to them by a passerby.

  “You aren’t serious about stealing one of the steamboats?” Frigate said.

  “That depends,” Tom said.

  “Nur will never go along with that,” Frigate said. “Nor some of the others, either.”

  “Then we might do without them,” Tom said.

  They halted at Podebrad’s house, which stood on top of a hill, its peaked roof of bamboo almost touching the lower branches of a tall pine tree. The guards passed them on into a reception room. A secretary listened to them, then disappeared for a minute. Returning, he told them that Podebrad would see them just after lunch two days from now.

  They decided to go fishing the rest of the day. Rider and Farrington caught a few striped “bass,” but they spent most of their time planning how to capture a steamboat.

  Ladislas Podebrad was redheaded and of medium height, very broad and muscular, bull necked, thin lipped, massively chinned. Though he had formidable features and an icy demeanor, he permitted the meeting to last longer than the three had expected. It even went well, though not entirely as hoped for.

  “Why are you in such a hurry to get to the North Pole? I have heard of this tower that is supposed to be in the middle of a sea behind impassable mountains. I do not know that I believe the story. But it seems possible. Perhaps, even probable.

  “This world may have been fashioned originally by God. But it is evident that human beings, or something similar, have remade the surface of this planet. It is also evident to me, a scientist, that our resurrection is caused by physical means, by science, not by a supernatural agency.

  “Why, I do not know. But the Church of the Second Chance has an explanation that sounds somewhat logical. Though they lack much data and even more certainty.

  “In fact, the Church seems to me to know more than anyone else about this business, if I may put it that way.”

  He drummed long, slim fingers on the table as they all fell silent. Frigate, watching them, thought how ill matched they were to his husky physique and broad, thick hands.

  Podebrad rose and walked to a cabinet, opened it, and withdrew an object.

  He held in his fingers a spiral bone taken from a hornfish.

  “You all know what this is. The Chancers wear it as a symbol of their faith, though I wish they had more knowledge to back their faith. But if they had more knowledge, they wouldn’t need faith, would they? In this respect they’re like all other religions, Terrestrial or Riverworld.

  “However, we do know that there is an afterlife.

  “Or perhaps I should say, there was an afterlife. Now that people no longer are resurrected after death, we don’t know what to expect. Even the Church has no answer to the question of why translation has suddenly ceased. It speculates that, perhaps, people have been given enough time to save themselves, and there is no longer a reason to continue the resurrections.

  “Either you are saved by now or you are not.

  “I really don’t know what the truth is.

  “Gentlemen, I was an atheist on Earth, a member of the Czechoslovakian Communist Party. But here I met a man who convinced me that religion has nothing to do with rationality. At least, its foundation, the basis for its existence, does not.

  “After the act of faith comes, of course, the rationalization for the faith, its pseudological justification. However, neither Jesus nor Marx, Buddha nor Mohammed, Hindu nor Confucian, Taoist nor Jew were right about the afterworld. They were even more mistaken about this world than the one we were born in.”

  He walked to the desk, sat down behind it, and placed the spiral bone on it.

  “Sinjoroj, I was going to announce today my conversion to the Church of the Second Chance. And also announce my resignation as head of the state of Nova Bohemujo. Several days afterward, I would embark up The River to journey to Virolando, which, I am assured, does indeed exist. And there I would ask the leader and the founder of the Church, La Viro, some questions. If he answered them satisfactorily, or even if he admitted that he did not know all the answers, I would place myself under his jurisdiction. Go where he said, do what he said.

  “But if my information is correct, and I have no reason to believe my informants are liars, Virolando is millions of kilometers away. It would take me half an Earthly lifetime to get there.

  “Now, you suddenly come to me with a proposal. One that I am astounded I did not think of myself. Perhaps because I was really more interested in the voyage than in its end.

  “Voyages are always more rewarding in self-discovery than in anything else, are they not? Perhaps that is why the obvious escaped me.

  “Yes, gentlemen, I can build a blimp for you.

  “There is only one stipulation. You must take me with you.”

  After a long silence, Farrington said, “I don’t see how we could say no, Sinjoro Podebrad. I think I speak for all of us.”

  Frigate and Rider nodded.

  “You really got us by the short hairs. Not that I have anything against your coming along with us. In fact, I am delighted. Only… well, what if we can’t find any experienced blimp men? We’d be crazy to go up there if we don’t know how to handle the machine or what we might run into.”

  “Of course. But it will take a very long time to build the airship. Unless we can find some engineers who know how to design such a ship, or at least can calculate the specifications, we will have to do it from scratch.

  “Meanwhile, we can look for a pilot. Though they’re very rare, somewhere along The River, within two thousand kilometers either way, there must be the man we’re looking for.

  “Or perhaps I might say, there could be one. Actually, the odds are high against finding one.”

  “I was a balloonist,” Frigate said. “And I read a great deal about lighter-than-air craft. I was up in a blimp for two short flights. That doesn’t near make me an expert, of course.”

  “Perhaps we’ll have to train ourselves, Sinjoro Frigate. In which case, any knowledge will be of help.”

  “Of course, that was a long time ago. I’ve forgotten a lot.”

  “You don’t exactly inspire confidence, Pete,” the Frisco Kid said fiercely.

  “Confidence comes with experience,” Podebrad said. “Now, gentlemen, I will start at once. I’ll delay my announcement of my conversion until after the airship is ready to leave. No member of the Church, no one preaching total passive resistance, can be head of this state.”

  Frigate wondered how deep the man’s conversion was. It seemed to him that anybody who really believed in the tenets of the Church would say so at once. No matter what the consequences would be.

  “As soon as our conference is over, I’ll get the facilities for making hydrogen under way. I think the best method, considering the minerals available, will be by the reaction of dilute sulfuric acid and zinc. Our sulfuric acid industry has been operating for some time. We were fortunate in finding both platinum and vanadium, though not in large quantities.

  “I do wish we could make aluminum, but…”

  “The Schütte-Lanz airships were made of wood,” Frigate said. “A blimp wouldn’t need much wood, anyway.”

  Farrington said, “Wood! You want me to go up in a wooden dirigible?”

  “The only wood would be in the keel and the car,” Frigate said. “The envelope could be made from the intestinal lining of the dragonfish.”

&nb
sp; “Which requires much fishing,” Podebrad said. He stood up.

  “I have much work to get done today. But I’ll see you gentlemen tomorrow during lunch. We can discuss this in detail then. Meanwhile, good day.”

  Farrington, looking grave, spoke to Rider as they left the building.

  “If you ask me, this is crazy!”

  “It sounds great to me,” Tom said. “To tell the truth, I’m getting pretty tired of sailing.”

  “Yeah, but we could get killed while we’re bumbling around trying to learn how to fly that damned thing!

  “And what if we find it won’t work then? We’ll have lost a lot of time!”

  Frigate said, “That doesn’t sound like the man who ferried people through the White Horse rapids in Alaska, time and again, just to pick up a few bucks. Or the man who pirated oysters…”

  He turned pale. Rider and Farrington had stopped, and their faces were hard.

  Farrington said slowly, “I’ve told a lot of stories about the Yukon, but I never said anything about the White Horse rapids. Not to you anyway. Have you been eavesdropping?”

  Frigate drew a deep breath, and said, “Hell, I don’t have to eavesdrop! I recognized you two the first time I saw you!”

  Suddenly, Rider was behind him and Farrington had put his hand on the hilt of his flint knife.

  Rider spoke in a low monotone. “Okay, whoever you are, just march on ahead of me. Right into the ship. And don’t try anything funny.”

  “I’m not going incognito!” Frigate said. “You are!”

  “Just do as I say.”

  Frigate shrugged, and he tried to grin. “It’s evident you two are doing a lot more than just concealing your true identities. All right. I’ll go. But you wouldn’t kill me, would you?”

  “That depends,” Rider said.

  They walked down the hill and across the plain. At the dock the only crew member present was Nur, who was talking to a woman. Rider said, “Not a word, Pete. And smile.”

  Frigate, looking straight at the little Moor, grimaced. He hoped that Nur would detect that something was wrong—he was so sensitive to expressions—but Nur only waved at them. When they were in the captain’s cabin, Frisco shut the door and made Frigate sit on the edge of the bunk.