The Icerigger Trilogy: Icerigger, Mission to Moulokin, and The Deluge Drivers (99 page)

It was Ta-hoding who brought the search to a halt. Like most of them he’d spent endless hours scanning the unbroken barrier paralleling them off to starboard, the wind ruffling his mane and the fur on shoulders and neck. He was very patient, Ta-hoding was, but he, too, had his limits. The day came when he requested a conference.

“It is time to decide how we intend to make our way southward from this region. We cannot sail around the world only to meet ourselves in the same places we have already visited.”

“There is no other way.” Hunnar was as frustrated as any of them. “We have already determined that.”

First Mate Monslawic nodded. “Still we must find one. Let us think hard on this matter as we continue as we have for another day or two. If by then we have not found a place to make a passage, we must turn about and retrace our course. Better to sail all the way back toward Moulokin to search for a way through we know exists than to continue endlessly on an unprofitable heading.” Clearly the
Slanderscree
’s first mate had given their situation much thought.

“We cannot go back,” Ta-hoding informed him. “We must cross the Bent Ocean within the next couple of days.”

“Why the hurry?” September wanted to know.

By way of reply Ta-hoding pointed toward the bow. Ethan joined the others in staring forward. A few scattered clouds marred the otherwise pristine horizon. Not rain clouds, of course. It never rained on Tran-ky-ky. Most of the planet’s moisture lay permanently frozen on its surface. Even snow was rare, though more common in the planet’s warmer regions. Clouds were seldom seen, even here near the equator.

Ethan wondered what Ta-hoding was pointing at. As it developed it was something visible only to an experienced sailor.

“For the past several days the winds have been erratic,” he told them. Ethan knew the winds of Tran-ky-ky blew with extraordinary consistency from west to east. “That is a strange formation but not an unknown one.” Then he
was
talking about the clouds, Ethan mused. “Also it is the season.”

“Season for what?” Williams asked.

“Comes soon a rifs. Not today, not tomorrow, but soon. Out of the east. Usually they come from north or south. This comes out of the east. It will be very bad.”

That went without saying, Ethan knew as he stared at the innocuous-looking puffs of cumulus. It meant a complete reversal of normal wind patterns. The atmospheric disturbance required to accomplish that would have to verge on the demonic. Yet Ta-hoding sounded so sure.

“What’s a ‘rifs’?” Jacalan asked.

Hwang let her colleague Semkin explain. “A local superthunderstorm. Several thunderstorm cells cluster in the same area. They start feeding off each other, the way a firestorm feeds on its own heat. On Tran-ky-ky very little actual moisture’s involved. That only seems to make the storm worse.” He was gazing thoughtfully at the clouds.

“I’ve never actually experienced one, of course. None of us have. They’re nearly nonexistent away from the equatorial regions. But Cheela and I have studied them via satellite reconnaissance. The thunderhead crowns will boil up tens of thousands of meters until they scrape the limits of the upper atmosphere. There’s lightning, lots of lightning, and surface winds approaching hundreds of kilometers an hour. Not good kite-flying weather. Any animal with any sense immediately goes to ground to try and wait it out.”

There was silence as his colleagues absorbed the implications, which were obvious even to non-Tran and non-sailors. You couldn’t tack into a three-hundred kph wind, nor could you safely anchor yourself anywhere on the barren ice sheet. The only reasonable chance of safety lay in a protected harbor. There were no harbors of any kind out on the naked ice.

A ship caught in the open and overtaken by the rolling storm front of a rifs had one chance and one only to survive. That lay in adjusting the amount of sail and turning about to run directly before the wind, praying that sails, masts, and crew held together long enough for the storm to pass over.

Once before the
Slanderscree
had done that and survived, battered and bruised. Attempting it a second time would involve tempting whatever fate had thus far watched over her. Even if they tried it and managed to ride out the storm, it would shove them, probably damaged and unstable, far off their chosen course. The planet itself seemed to be conspiring to keep them from reaching their destination.

Ideally they would make it through the pressure ridge, put on all sail, and fly southward beyond the storm’s reach. Ideally. Ideally, Ethan thought, they would have ignored regulations and smuggled along a few explosive devices with which to blast their way through the barrier. No time left now for what-ifs and maybes.

They had no explosives, no beamers, no appropriate modern technology. All they did have, they realized as they took stock of their resources, was a lot of muscle and determination. That would suffice to chop a path through the ice ridge. In weeks. They needed to break through within forty-eight hours.

What sophisticated scientific instrumentation they did have consisted largely of devices for measuring and calibrating and weighing, not for concentrating brute force on a specific area. A pair of drills designed to take core samples from the ice would help. A hundred such drills would be needed to accomplish their ends. The drills could melt some ice but not nearly enough fast enough.

The alternate solution did not occur to the Tran because as Tran they would never have conceived of something like it. For once the obvious was voiced by Skua September and not Williams.

“It’s pretty damn clear to me that since we can’t go through this stuff we have to go over it.”

Ethan added his own expression to the sea of astonishment that greeted this blithe observation.

“A
RE YOU PROPOSING,” WILLIAMS
said finally, “to turn the
Slanderscree
into an aircraft?”

September didn’t bat an eye. “Something like that.”

Since September was considering it semiseriously, the teacher did likewise. “Even if we could pack on sufficient sail the wind isn’t strong enough.”

“Funny, that is.” September looked thoughtful. “Though with a rifs behind us and enough sail I wouldn’t be surprised if we
could
get the ol’ scow airborne. Controlling her would be something else again.” He glanced past Williams until he found Snyek. “Going to need those coring drills you mentioned. Have to melt some ice and then let it refreeze.”

“What in heaven’s name for?” Hwang demanded to know.

September grinned at her. “Your corers aren’t big enough or powerful enough to melt half a path through that ridge, but we can use them to take the sharp edges off, if you know what I mean. Some of those ancient ice blocks that form the ridge are pretty big and pretty solid. If we could just sort of melt them together and even them out, doing the fine work with ice picks and axes, why, we might end up with something.”

“Like what?”

His eyes twinkled and he turned his grin back on Williams. “Like a ramp.” He let them mull that thought over, then continued. “See, we form and shape this big ramp out of ice using the coring drills and hand tools, ran it right to the crest of the pressure ridge. Then we back the
Slanderscree
off a fair ways”—-he illustrated the necessary maneuvers with great sweeps and twists of his long arms—“as far to the west as required, put on all sail, and bring her in to the ridge at an angle with the wind strong behind us.

“We go
up
that ramp,” he said as he slid one palm sharply against the other, “and over the top. That’s it, we’re through. We don’t have to cut through the damn ridge, all we have to do is go over it.” He coughed into a closed palm. “And make a respectable landing on the other side, of course. One thing about ice: It may be sharp-edged and cold and uncomfortable, but as long as you’ve got some tools, good cold weather, and a heat source or two you can sculpture it as easy as you would a bar of soap.”

His companions’ response was underwhelming. “I would prefer to transit the ridge another way,” Williams said finally.

“So would I.” This from a doubtful Ta-hoding. “I find your thoughts intriguing but impractical, friend Skua. As you have said, the critical problem is one of velocity.”

“Are you kidding? The
Slanderscree
only put on all her sail once or twice. You know how fast she could go.”

“On the level ice, yes,” the captain admitted, “but uphill? Such a thing has never been done in a large ship. It is a maneuver left for sport, on chiv or in a very small light craft.”

September looked at Hwang. “Run some calculations. Mass and velocity, wind speed—let’s find out if it’s theoretically possible, at least. We can make the ramp as graduated, as long as necessary.”

“Not too long.” Ta-hoding the sailor had an excellent grasp of elementary geometry, not to mention the physical capabilities of his crew. “We have only so much time.”

“We’ll manage,” said September impatiently. “We’ll do whatever we have to do. I’m sure we can gain the necessary speed and hold the ramp.”

“That is not what troubles me.” All eyes turned to Hunnar Redbeard. “Let me see if I understand this novel sky-people notion.” He employed his arms and paws in rough imitation of September’s aerodynamic gestures. “We retreat a certain distance, put on all sail, and catch the wind full behind us.”

“That’s it, that’s right,” said September excitedly.

“We sail up this ramp you propose to construct”—he raised one paw skyward—”and launch ourselves over the top of the bent ocean with enough force to carry us across the far side of the barrier and onto the navigable ice on the southern side.”

September looked pleased. “You’ve got it, Hunnar.”

“I have no doubt we can attain the required speed, and I believe it may be possible to maintain enough control at that speed to sail up this ramp. Yet I worry still.”

“About what?”

“The
Slanderscree
is a large, heavy ship. It was designed to chiv”—and he made a shoving gesture with his right paw—“across solid ice. It is a strong vessel and many times have we learned the strength of the wondrous metal we cut from your small ship to fashion the great runners and their braces. Still, for all it has accomplished and all it has survived, it was not designed to be dropped from a considerable height.” He stared at September.

“If all goes as you plan and we overfly the Bent Ocean, what will happen to us when we strike the unyielding ice on the far side? The ocean will not break. That is something that cannot be said of the
Slanderscree.
What would it profit us to cross the barrier if we destroy our ship in the process?”

“That’s one thing I don’t have any way of predicting,” September replied somberly, “and despite all their instruments and learning, I don’t think Williams and his friends do either.”

“The ship’s whole weight will come down on the bow runners, then the stern and the rudder,” Ethan murmured. “If we try this, and I don’t have any better idea, we need to pull everything out of storage that can be used for padding. Spare clothing, extra pika-pina rigging, everything we’ve got. If we cram it all between the runners and their braces, it’ll help absorb the shock.”

“That’s the spirit, feller-me-lad!”

“Those braces can only cope with a certain amount of shock,” Ta-hoding reminded them.

“They’re duralloy from the skin and guts of a lifeboat,” September said. “So are the bolts and sheet bracing. The woodwork’s the product of Wannome’s finest carpenters and shipwrights. Even if we do bust a brace or two we can still rig something temporary to hold the runners in place until we can get the ship back to a repair yard.”

“If only it were that simple.” Ta-hoding gestured toward the bow. “If we break off more than one runner, we will have to anchor the ship so that we can make these temporary repairs you speak of so casually. Remember that the rifs can catch us as easily on the southern ocean as on this side, should we become trapped in this place. With damaged runners we could not even run before the wind. The ship could be torn to pieces.”

For a moment or so only the wind talked. Then Ethan spoke up quietly. “Doesn’t look like we have much choice. We’re much too far from Poyolavomaar or any other known shelter to try to make it to safety before the storm hits. If we sit around and wait for it, we’ll be in real trouble. If we try and outrun it and it overtakes us, it’ll blow us so far off course we might as well go back to Poyo and start over again.”

“Might we not find shelter in the lee of an island?” Elfa wondered.

Ta-hoding shook his head. “We’ve seen none that would be suitable.”

“Then Ethan and Skua are right. We must try this.”

Hunnar looked sharply at his new mate. “I always knew you to be conservative. Have we spent too much time among the skypeople?”

She put two fingers to his lips, letting him feel the claws. “Not that. In your company I would dare anything, lifemate.”

Hunnar let out an appreciative hiss. “Whatever the daughter of the Landgrave dares, can I dare less?”

She withdrew her hand, turned to face Ta-hoding. “Royalty does not command the ice. This is your dominion, your ship. The final decision rests with you. You know what the icerigger is capable of better than anyone else. What are our chances of surviving such a mad enterprise?”

Ta-hoding sighed deeply, executed an intricate gesture with the fingers of his right hand. Fifty-fifty. Ethan had hoped for better odds.

“One is ready to risk all, the other tells me nothing,” Hunnar grumbled. Cat’s eyes turned on Ethan. “What think you, my friend?”

“Why ask me? I’m just a passenger on this boat. I have no authority here. Why don’t you ask Milliken?”

“Because you are no adventurer, by your admission. Because you and not friend Milliken are a counterweight to tall Skua’s opinion. You are cautious where he is rash. You consider where he dares.”

“Well, in the absence of a better alternative I’d have to say that you don’t get anywhere in life without taking a chance now and then. I admit we’ve taken our share, this past year, but that doesn’t alter the situation we’re facing now. That’s all easy for me to say. It’s not my ship.”