A Larger Universe (8 page)

He disarmed them and fended off several blows. "Are you
sure you want to continue this?" he asked.

The three heaved up until Tommy cuffed each of them with the
back of his work-hardened hand, then placed his knee into the top man's back
and pressed down.  This time the man's squeal was pure pain.

"Do you want more of that?"  Tommy asked.

"No!" the man screamed.

"Did you do this on your own?" Tommy asked,
pressing down again.

"No!  No!  The first Jack told us to do it," the
man sobbed.

"Shut up, you idiot!" said one of the men on the
bottom.

Tommy stood up and stepped back.  He watched warily as the
three got to their feet and whispered to each other. 

"If Jack wants you do to this, why isn't he here to
help you?" Tommy asked.

Their answer was another assault.  This one Tommy met with
his own rush, straight ahead.  He cracked the man in the middle across the jaw
with his right elbow and shoved him aside, then spun in place, grabbed the
shirtsleeves of the two outside men, and pulled.  The sound of their heads
striking each other echoed from the barn wall.

Tommy looked down at the unconscious men on the ground. 
What
have I done?
 

He turned toward a sound from behind.  The first Jack stood
there, his neck red around the top of his tunic, his brown eyes almost hidden by
black pupils.  When he spoke, he echoed Tommy's thoughts, "What have you
done?"

Tommy shook his head.  "What have I done?  What have
you
done?  You sent them after me.  I just defended myself."

Jack looked up at Tommy looming over him, then down again at
the three men lying on the ground.  He raised his hands as if trying to fend
off an impending attack. 

"Why did you send them to do this?" Tommy asked. 
"Were you hoping they would kill me?  You know I can't leave here until
the lords tell me to."

Jack crossed his arms tightly in front of his narrow body. 
He looked again at the three unconscious bodies on the ground, then back at
Tommy.  "This isn't over,” Jack said.  He turned and stalked toward the
central column.

I suppose it's up to me to take care of these three.
 
He knelt and felt each man's pulse.  A bucket of water from the horse trough
brought them to sputtering consciousness. 

"Jack deserted you," Tommy said.  "If you
don't have any work to do here, you might want to follow him.  He's headed toward
the stairs."

#   #   #

On his next walk with Forset, Tommy said, "I once asked
someone why you are so small.  He said the lords wanted it that way.  Was he
right?"

They strolled that day on the horse trail Tommy and Jack had
followed that first day on the ship. 

"Do you have some reason for asking that question? 
Forset asked.

"I had a confrontation with some farmers
yesterday."  Tommy said.

"Were you injured?"

"My size made a lot of difference," Tommy said. 
"They were injured.  I was not."

  Forset made a show of looking at Tommy's body, as if he
were seeing it for the first time.  "I suppose so," he said. 
"We are inbred compared with you wild humans."  He paused. 
"Perhaps 'bred' would be a better word."

"What do you mean?" Tommy asked.

Forset walked quietly for a while before answering. 
"Our ancestors were small when they were taken.  Their children were
larger, and their grandchildren larger still.  The lords said we grew because
we ate better and more regularly.  In the third generation, the lords told us
who could marry whom, who could have children, and who could not.

"That led to the first and only revolt against the
lords on this ship.  We might be serfs, that we understood, but God had granted
us the right to have children."  He used the English word for God; Tommy
couldn't remember having been told the lords' word.

"Many humans died when the lords suppressed the
revolt.  The lords fought for themselves, the only time they have, so far as I
know.  After that, we married as the lords willed.  We became smaller, both
farmer and artisan.  Smaller and different.  When the physical differences
between farmer and artisan were great enough, the lords separated us, as we are
now."

"Which are you?"

"I thought that would be obvious.  I am a farmer.  All
of the priests are farmers, except for our education.  We are taken into the
priesthood at an early age and apprenticed to an older priest to learn the
lords' language.  The lords think we have a calming effect on the crew.  They
see no harm in the worship we lead, even though they long ago stopped us from
preaching at the service."  He looked at Tommy.  "They consider our
hopes for a savior to be unfounded and more than a little amusing."

#   #   #

After many rest days, Tommy arrived for his usual lesson to
find a small cake and drinks set up on Forset's desk.

"What is this about?" Tommy asked in the lords'
language.

"I could no longer give Lord Ull excuses for you to
continue in my class," Forset replied in English.  "I've been
teaching you for almost two years.  You’ll learn more, but you must do so on
your own.  Your new assignment begins next week, after the rest day."

For the rest day, Forset asked Tommy to be at his cabin
before services.  When he arrived, Tommy found Forset talking with his assistant,
who abruptly bowed to Forset and brushed past Tommy in the doorway.

"I've asked the fourth Forset to perform my service for
the farmers.  It's time for you to meet the artisans, and rest day services
provide the means.  I've arranged to take the place of their regular
priest."

As they walked to the stairwell, Tommy asked, "Why does
the fourth Forset dislike me?"

"I had no idea he did."

"Whenever I talk to him, he ignores me.  I hoped I
could talk to him in the lords' language for practice, but he looks through me
as if I am invisible."

"Perhaps the fourth Forset resents the time you spend
with me," Forset said.  "Until you came, I was his teacher as he was
my assistant.  Now, I have time only for you, though that will soon
change."

Forset led Tommy down several decks to another large room
with a labyrinth painted on the floor.  "You wait here and join the
service.  I need a few minutes alone to prepare."

The artisans who filed in were, if anything, thinner than
the farmers, making the large size of their heads even more noticeable.  They
were taller, too, though the tallest couldn't have been more than five feet
five inches.  Instead of the drab shirts tucked into equally drab trousers
above sturdy boots of the farmers, the artisans wore colorful, short-sleeve
tunics to mid thigh over equally colorful, but often clashing, tight-fitting
pants and soft slippers.  Also unlike the farmers, who entered the labyrinth
room quietly, the artisans entered chattering among themselves.

Tommy had placed his back to the
corner of the room closest to the door, so most of the worshipers didn't notice
him.  Forset's entry into the room cut off the scrutiny of those who had seen
him and brought the room to order.  Forset said nothing as he entered, stepping
into the room as he had for each service in the farmers' church, with his hood
over his head, and his hands clasped in front.  The service that followed was
identical with those Tommy had participated in previously.  Tommy joined the
chanting line when his turn came, his farmer clothing contrasting with the
colorful clothes of those near him.  The lines of people flickered in the
corners of his eyes as the varied hues passed by, step by slowly moving step.

The last "We must have faith" in the closing chant
ended, and the chattering started again among the congregation.  Every person
had passed him in the labyrinth, some many times.  Now, rather than leave, they
all turned toward him.  He heard Forset calling him from the entrance. 
"Tommy, go to the center of the labyrinth."

"This is Tommy.  He's the one taken from Earth.  The
lords commanded me to bring him to you, so he might begin the task they've set
for him.  I was also told one of you will be overseeing and instructing him in
his work, but not who that might be."

A man dressed in pale shades of red and blue, but, to Tommy,
otherwise indistinguishable from the other men, stepped forward from the
congregation. 

"I'll be supervising his work, priest.  On work days,
not on rest days."

Forset didn't seem embarrassed.  "Since the lords
didn't tell me whom to bring him to, this seemed the most efficient way to find
you.  I've always been led to believe efficiency is important to artisans.  The
time we take today will be minimal.  What is your name?"

"Valin."  He turned to Tommy.  "Meet me here
tomorrow after the midday meal.  I'll take you to your workplace and explain
what you must do."

On the way to the priest's cabin, Tommy asked, "Do I
continue to live in my present barracks and work mornings with the
farmers?"

"Until someone tells you otherwise.  My part in this is
finished.  Can you find your way back to the artisans' labyrinth?"

"Yes, of course.  The pattern on your level is repeated
on that deck."

#   #   #

After the fights, the first Jack had given up the direct approach
and began harassing Tommy with petty errands and changes to Tommy's routine.  
Most of the errands involved interfering with Tommy's meals.  Jack had
apparently seen how much Tommy ate--he often went back for seconds and
thirds--and the errands often made Tommy miss meals altogether.  Jack also
decided that Tommy didn't need help unloading the feed wagon and assigned Mark
to other duties. 

After a while, Tommy secretly agreed with that decision. 
Mark just slowed him down.  The routine became almost like walking the
labyrinth.  His mind drifted.  Start at one end of the wagon.  Bend at the
knees.  Grab a bag.  Lift the bag to his chest.  Stand up.  Turn.  Walk to the
end of the wagon.  Throw the bag into the wheelbarrow.  Turn.  Walk back to the
load.  Do it all again.  When he had filled the wheelbarrow, walk it into the
barn, grab a bag, lift, throw it on the pile, do it again until he had emptied
the wheelbarrow.  Return to the wagon.  Begin again.  Until he finished, his
body worked while his mind thought about something else. 

The morning after meeting Valin, Tommy's thoughts circled
his new job. 
What could it be?
  Then, he thought about his parents and
home, and he felt a twinge of guilt. 
Why should I care about anything that
won't get me home?
  Bend, grab, lift, turn. 
Maybe it will help get me
home, somehow.
   That led to thinking of the artisans and his new job. 
Bend, grab, lift, turn.  

A shrill shriek followed by a loud thump and crack jerked
him from his trance.  He turned to see the far end of the stable slump to the
ground.  A moment later, a giant ostrich-like bird wiggled from a hole under
the now-slanting roof and loped toward the farmers' fields.

Three of the birds had arrived on the ship a few weeks
before.  Tommy's contacts with them had been for his usual task: cleaning the
bottom of the stalls.  The birds were aggressive and difficult to handle, so
the first Jack had the horse stalls rebuilt to be more confining.  The narrow
stalls allowed the handlers to get close, but moving a bird required three
people:  one at the end of ropes on each side of the bird, to keep it under
control, and one on the lead rope.  Everyone tried to stay out of range of the
bird's six-foot long legs, which had evolved for running and defense.

Tommy jumped off of the feed wagon and ran into the stable
toward the shouting.  He found the second Jack already there, pulling at a
large timber that had fallen into the last stall.  "Get some help.  The
fourth Jules is trapped under this rafter.  The broken end is pressed onto his
chest."

The fourth Jules
, Tommy thought. 
One of the boys
who have been tormenting me.

More farmers crowded next to Tommy.  "Some of you get
in here and help me with this!" the second Jack yelled.

The rafter extending down into the narrow space left barely
enough room for two to stand without stepping on Jules.  One of the other men
pushed in, and, with Jack, tried to lift the beam.

When the beam didn't move, Tommy reached into the stall and
pulled the second man out.  "Let me try." 

Tommy was slightly taller than the second Jack, but much
wider in the shoulders and bigger in the chest.  A few weeks before, Tommy had
arrived early for work to find the second Jack standing in the feed wagon. 
Tommy had ducked behind the edge of the barn and watched as the second Jack
tried and failed to lift a feed sack over his head, as he had seen Tommy do. 
Now, Jack shrugged and turned to the beam.  "On three, lift.  One, two,
three."  The rafter came off of Jules' chest, and Jules sucked in a huge
breath.

"Quick.  Get him out."  Jack grunted.

With Jules out of immediate danger, the men placed him on a
stretcher made of feed sacks and poles and carried him toward the central
column elevators. 

Tommy collapsed on the floor.  That lift had drained him.  "Where
are they taking Jules?"

"Some of the artisans are doctors, such as we have. 
They will do what they can."  Jack's gaze took in those standing in the
stable.  "That bird will be hard to catch."  He picked three of the
stable hands.  "Chase the bird down.  Take horses.  Everyone else, back to
work."

For the first time since he had been introduced, the meal
room became silent when Tommy entered.  He usually sat alone or with Mark, but
that night, the other four of the five boys who had once tormented him sat down
at his table.  "What do you want?" he asked.

"The second Jack told us what you did," one of
them said.