The Karasor Page 2

  “But you have an opinion on the future of our empire...?”

  Narikin hesitated, “I have a personal opinion, sir, but my thoughts should not be interpreted as my father’s will on the subject.”

  “Let me hear them anyway…”

  “I believe it was a mistake to withdraw our influence from the Third Sphere; I believe we should have retained our connections with the humans and continued the old alliance rather than retreat behind our walls. We have lost whatever influence we had and, worse than that, we have lost our opportunity to grow and develop as a people through interaction with species and cultures other than our own. I believe our traditions would not have been under-mined by contact with the humans and I believe we are poorer for our isolationism.”

  There was a long pause and then the emperor said, “So, you’re not an idiot after all.”

  “I don’t think that’s the general opinion, sir…”

  “You must not listen to Shōgun Taira; he is trying to goad your father and sees you as a potential trigger.”

  “I don’t think my father is particularly concerned about me being called names.”

  “Not you perhaps but your position as his son and heir is relevant – however, that’s for them to argue over. I want you to relay a message to your father.”

  “Of course, sir…”

  “I want you to tell him that I have banished you from the Takla Makan. It is not my personal wish but it is expected of me. Your father must attend the next meeting and not send another in his place. He will have anticipated this move, no doubt, and will be studying the law to find a loophole – but for the moment you are relieved of this duty.”

  “Thank you, sir – I’ve never felt comfortable in this role.”

  “It’s a pity that your father has never allowed you to speak. I think your words would be well-received even if Shōgun Taira might not want to hear them.”

  Narikin bowed his head, “Thank you, your Majesty.”

  “And if I might make a suggestion – perhaps you should find a way to visit your brothers in the Third Sphere. Such a trip would be very instructive and might change your opinion or re-enforce it - I would be interested to hear which. Now, let’s put our veils back on and leave this draughty old ship.”

  2 – Kuchī Island

  As a reward for being abused by Shōgun Taira, Narikin was allowed to go to the market on Kuchī Island. It was a rare treat and Narikin took his camera to record the event. Even better, because nobody outside Kimidori Island had the faintest idea what he looked like, he was able to travel without an escort. He dressed in ordinary clothes, put a peasant’s hat on his head, and took a small, unmarked boat from the pool.

  In less than ten minutes, he was drawing-up to one of the quays that lined the small bay at the foot of the town. Above him, the shops of the local merchants clung to the hillside on a series of terraces like the goods on their shelves. Kuchī was a place of colour and activity. Green pennants and banners blew in the breeze, music played, keepers shouted their wares and street vendors sold snacks from steaming pots.

  Narikin wound his way up between the kelp-board buildings, climbed stairs cut into the rock and walked along cobbled lanes. He took pictures of the produce laid out on barrows and porches, snapped the islanders sitting on their steps having a smoke and a chat with their neighbours, and enjoyed his freedom from the stifling formality of the palace.

  After a while, he began to notice a general movement towards the top of the island and the sound of drums beating a steady rhythm. People were hurrying past, chattering with excitement.

  Narikin found himself following the stream, wondering what the occasion was. It couldn’t be a festival; nobody was carrying flags or any of the usual paraphernalia of a celebration.

  Despite its steep sides and cone-like shape, the island had a square large enough for public meetings to take place. On one side, the cliff rose up to the shrine of the ancestors on the summit and the square was on a shelf underneath, with a fine view of the bay and the other islands of the Midori Archipelago. Wide stairs led up from the town, lit by lanterns at night, winding between evergreen trees and shrubs whose blossom was a delight in the spring.

  The public hall was on the far side. Tiers of balconies under coral-tiles rose up to a tower where the drummers were pounding, the sound carrying across the town like a complicated heartbeat. Hundreds had gathered on square already and Narikin was at the back, unable to see what the fuss was about. He turned to a tall youth standing beside him. It was against his nature to be bold but curiosity got the better of him; “What’s going on?” he asked.

  The youth grinned, “Haven’t you heard? The first of the new ranger ships will be ready in a few months; the navy is asking for recruits to be trained for when it’s finished.”

  Narikin knew about the ships from the dispatches his father made him read. The Karasor clan had ordered six from the Ishan, the first new vessels to be added to the fleet for nearly two hundred years. There was much debate over their necessity; if the empire was withdrawing from the Third Sphere, what use would they be in the Second? Some said it was a waste of resources while many more believed it was a sign that war was coming.

  “Are you going to volunteer?” Narikin asked his new companion.

  The youth nodded, “If they’ll have me.” He was a big lad, strong, with shoulders that spoke of heavy lifting and manual work. He looked brave too as he faced the hall and hoped he would be selected. He seemed ideal for a place as a warrior.

  Narikin asked him, “Why do you want to leave Pentī Prime?”

  “I’m a fisherman, like my father, but I want to see the rest of Evigone.”

  “Won’t it be dangerous?”

  “I expect so,” he grinned. “What about you? Are you going to volunteer?”

  He didn’t want to sound like a coward so he said, “Of course – but I doubt if they need somebody like me.” He smiled and hoped it was true.

  The young fisherman shrugged, “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

  Confident the recruiters would reject him the moment they glimpsed his stick-like arms and legs, Narikin stayed with his companion (whose name was Fengtai) as they joined a long queue that snaked across the square. Around the sides, those too old or indifferent to the call of the navy, cheered and waved. Narikin saw several people laughing and pointing at him, as convinced as he was the position of ranger, defender of the clan, was no place for somebody like him.

  Above him, on the steps to the door of the hall, stood two warriors in armour, their faces hidden behind breathing masks, hands resting lightly on their swords. Narikin looked at the heavy plates around their waists, chests, legs and arms, and imagined what would happen if he tried to wear them; saw himself lying on his back like an insect, unable to get up. He looked at Fengtai and could see him striding about in the same armour, wielding a spear like a matchstick. “Are you hoping that will be you one day?” he said, nodding towards the warriors.

  Fengtai shrugged, “I’m not bothered. I thought I would volunteer to be a gunner first. I’m good at heavy-lifting.”

  I expect you are, Narikin thought. He had often watched the fishermen; hauling in their nets, dragging the catch over the side with nothing more than brute strength. Like one of their fish, he wouldn’t have lasted very long.

  Another ten minutes and they were inside the public hall, out of the sun. The drums had stopped and the silence after the noisy square was a welcome relief. At the far end, was a table with a gruff-looking sergeant interviewing a potential recruit. Behind him was the Karasor banner. Narikin watched as the recruit signed his name on a scroll and was led away by a second official through a side door to another room.

  The next recruit wasn’t so lucky; there was a shaking of heads on both sides and then the rejected volunteer, keeping his head down and walking quickly, passed them on the way back to the front door.

  “Why they didn’t want him?” Narikin whispered. The volunteer had seemed quite stro
ng and able to him.

  “He was a baker,” Fengtai replied. “I expect his skills are needed here.”

  Narikin didn’t have any useful skills, he thought, but that didn’t mean he was more likely to be chosen. He began to regret joining the queue. He was wasting their time as well as his own; he could be outside taking more photographs or shopping in the market.

  When they reached the end of the line, Narikin let Fengtai go before him. There was a gap of twenty feet between them but he could hear the sergeant’s questions: Who are you? Where do you come from? What do you do? How long have you been a fisherman? Why do you wish to serve with the Karasor rangers? Fengtai answered each question nervously and kept bowing his head like a bird. When he answered the last one, he stumbled over his words and made a mess of his reply.

  The sergeant asked, “What do you mean by ‘it’s your duty’?”

  “I want to serve…”

  “Give me a better reason and not one you think I want to hear…”

  Fengtai’s shoulders slumped, “I have three older brothers, all fishermen; my father does not need me, he has enough help. I spend every day either on the water or on the beach mending nets. Sometimes, I think the fish we catch have led a more interesting life than me.”

  Narikin heard the sergeant grunt and say, “Sign here.”

  Fengtai was so big the sergeant wasn’t able to see Narikin until he was led away to the side-room. When he said ‘next’ and saw what was facing him, he almost laughed.

  Narikin crossed the intervening space as boldly as he could and smiled pleasantly at the ranger. He gave his name and told him he was an artist.

  Neither ‘Narikin’ nor ‘Karasor’ were unusual so it didn’t occur to the sergeant that he was talking to his prince.

  “We don’t have much call for ‘artists’,” he said, trying not to be rude.

  “I understand…”

  “What made you want to volunteer?”

  “I have never been to the Third Sphere.”

  “Life on board a ship is hard – are you sure you’d be up to it?” He looked at the wrists holding the hat and the thin fingers tapping nervously on the rim.

  “I expect with some training I could get stronger…”

  “I’m not sure we can wait that long,” he mumbled. And then he noticed the camera hanging from its strap on the bony shoulder. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “It’s for taking pictures,” Narikin took it off and showed him. “You look through here and then press this button. The light reflecting from the object is captured on a film inside the box and then later I use chemicals to ‘fix’ the negatives. I produce images on special paper using an enlarger and more chemicals…” He showed the sergeant a small photograph of Tosa and Chikutei that he happened to have in the camera bag.

  “I have heard of such tools,” said the ranger. “But how did you come by yours?”

  “I have family in the diplomatic corps – one of them brought this back from Clun B. I had to have the rest of the equipment made and finding the right chemicals has been a real trial but at least I have lots of spare film…”

  The sergeant looked pensive. “Wait here a moment,” he said, getting up from the table and walking to the side-door. Narikin waited and then an officer in green silks appeared.

  The sergeant spoke quietly to him. Both of them turned and looked at Narikin and he didn’t need to be able to read minds to know what the officer was thinking as he looked the potential recruit up and down. The officer shrugged and nodded.

  The sergeant came back to the table, “Sign here…”

  “Eh…?” Narikin’s heart fell. “But…”

  “Do you want to join the rangers?”

  “Well…”

  “Do you want to see the Third Sphere and take pictures of it?”

  “I suppose…”

  “Then sign here…”

  “But sergeant – I’m not really warrior material, am I?”

  “No,” he agreed. “But we have many potential warriors and no-one with your kind of skills. Your ability to record and reproduce images is useful to us - so sign and let’s get on.”

  Not quite sure what he was doing, Narikin put his name on the scroll and was led away in a daze to the side-room where Fengtai and the other recruits were waiting. He sat down next to his new friend.

  “Congratulations,” said Fengtai, not questioning the wisdom of the sergeant or the officer in charge. “Perhaps they’ll let us share a cabin?”

  Narikin didn’t think he would be around that long but he nodded and said, “That would be nice.”

  The other recruits were less accommodating; they looked at him and muttered to each other. As far as they were concerned, joining the Karasor rangers to fight for the clan was a matter for heroes and people of a more substantial nature. Having a weakling like him beside them could only lead to trouble – a sentiment Narikin heartily agreed with.

  The officer in charge was a lieutenant called Nayaika who had seen service on the famous Kara Kum. His ship was undergoing repairs after a skirmish with the Taira and gathering converts was a temporary assignment. He kept glancing at Narikin. His face was stern and definitely not happy with his decision.

  When the recruitment was finished, he addressed the hundred or so people in the room. “If you have any doubts,” he said, standing on a table so he could see all their faces. “Now is the time to leave; when we arrive on the Kyzylagash, your training will begin immediately and it will be hard.” He looked in Narikin’s direction. “If you should fail the tests or decide a place in our navy is not for you, we will part company. Until then, everything is prepared for you.”

  Narikin found his mouth had gone dry and he wondered if he had time to find a toilet.

  The other recruits raised their arms and cheered, chanting the name ‘Karasor’. Nayaika put his hand up and they were quiet. “In a few moments, we will depart and you will experience a new kind of discipline. Whatever your background, you are now training to be rangers – the very best – so I say again, now is the time to leave if you are not absolutely certain this is what you want…” He glanced in Narikin’s direction again.

  3 – Kyzylagash

  A mono-hulled patrol ship, with a single cannon, came to collect the new recruits from Kuchī Island. It was not big enough for everyone to sit inside and Narikin and Fengtai had to sit on the top deck beside the gun.

  The other recruits sang patriotic songs or talked about what they wanted to do once they had passed the tests.

  “I want to posted to the Kara Kum,” said one. “I know they must be looking for someone because Captain Subarsi lost a man in his fight with the Harima Nada.”

  “I want to become a radar operator,” said another. “I don’t care which ship they put me on; it won’t make much difference if I’m staring at a screen all day.”

  “I’d like to serve with Captain Kruvak on the Kyzyl Kum,” said a third and the others laughed at him.

  “The captain only takes the very best,” said the first. “You have as much chance of getting on the Kyzyl Kum as that little shrimp does of surviving the first day.”

  Narikin realised they were talking about him but he didn’t react. He wondered what they would have said if he’d told them Kruvak was his cousin, on his mother’s side, and because of his position, he could have ordered the famous captain to take him.

  He had never been among so many men his own age and he felt self-conscious and shy as they bantered with each other. In the palace, he spent most of his time alone. Even when his brothers had lived there, before they left for their governorships in the Third Sphere, he had never been close to them. He kept his distance from his sisters too. He was close to Amah, his dance teacher, and to Chikutei, and to some of the other staff, but that was all. His teachers thought he was naturally solitary. His father thought he was simple.

  The patrol boat left the islands of the Midori Archipelago behind and rose rapidly through the sky. Soon they wer
e in the vacuum of space with the rings of Pentī below them and darkness above.

  “I have never left our world before,” said Fengtai, staring in wonder at the volumes of nothingness.

  Narikin had but he didn’t say anything. He had been on a few short trips with his father to the Karasor moon and to the Kyzylagash, but never on his own and never without the stupid veil over his face. “Are you excited?” he asked his companion.

  Fengtai nodded, “Aren’t you?”

  “I’m worried about the tests,” he admitted.

  The fisherman’s son shrugged his great shoulders, “We can only do our best.”

  He was right, Narikin thought. He knew his father’s bodyguards, led by Captain Haku, would catch up with him eventually and then he would be dragged back to the palace for a scolding and whatever punishment his father saw fit. Better to enjoy his brief encounter with freedom rather than dwell on tests that, even if he passed, would lead him nowhere.

  It took another hour to reach the Kyzylagash but it was worth the wait. Seeing the ship without the stupid veil was compensation enough for all the trouble he was in. It was not just a bigger version of the triple-hulled cruisers that defended the empire but a great city; impregnable, impossible, and awe-inspiring in its enormity.

  Patrolling fighters looked no bigger than the sparrows. Thousands of portholes dotted the towers and it took a moment to realise a massive out-crop was one huge turret, armed with the biggest launcher he had ever seen. There were other turrets too, from medium-sized defences that were still bigger than a house to pill-boxes set into the deck. He could see tiny people; columns marching along gangways and across bridges, exercising as the sun threw shadows across the gorges of green and grey metal.

  They flew into its main bay like a tiny bat returning to its cave. Whole frigates, 400 feet wide, were rowed up inside the hangar. Narikin knew their names, their histories and had even attended receptions with their captains, but he never thought he would get to see them.