Steven Gould - Helm

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HELM

Steven Gould

ISBN: 0-812-57135-5

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

PROLOGUE KATSU JIN KEN: THE SWORD THAT SAVES LIFE

ONE SHOSHIN: BEGINNER’S MIND

TWO RENSHU: REN (REPEAT) SHU (LEARN) OR LEARN BY REPEATING

THREE KUZUSHIN: DISRUPTION OF BALANCE

FOUR KIHON: FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES

FIVE UKEMI: LITERALLY “RECEIVING [WITH/THROUGH] THE BODY”

SIX KOSHIN: MOVING BACKWARD

SEVEN KI MUSUBI: KNOTTING UP, CONNECTING, KI

EIGHT TAMESHIGIRI: TEST CUTTING

NINE ZENSHIN: MOVING FORWARD

TEN HITORI WAZA: INVISIBLE PARTNER PRACTICE

ELEVEN SETSUZOKU: CONNECTION

TWELVE TANINSUGAKE: TRAINING AGAINST MULTIPLE ATTACKERS

THIRTEEN NANKEN: BAD SWORD

FOURTEEN SEI: MOTIONLESS, INACTIVE

FIFTEEN IRIMI: TO ENTER

SIXTEEN SETSU NINTO: THE SWORD THAT KILLS

SEVENTEEN SHIKAKU: POSITION RELATIVE TO ONE’S PARTNER

WHERE IT IS DIFFICULT FOR THEM TO CONTINUE AN ATTACK

EIGHTEEN SUTEMI: TO THROW AWAY THE BODY

NINETEEN MA AI: PROPER DISTANCE

TWENTY AI UCHI: MUTUAL KILL

TWENTY-ONE KAESHI-WAZA: REVERSALS

TWENTY-TWO KENSHO: ENLIGHTENMENT

TWENTY-THREE RANDORI: FREE-STYLE “ALL-OUT” TRAINING

TWENTY-FOUR NINJYO: COMPASSION

EPILOGUE KACHIHAYABI: VICTORY AT THE SPEED OF SUNLIGHT

Acknowledgments

^ »

Thanks are due to my sempai, Ron Druva, for screening the aikido scenes in this

book for accuracy. Any mistakes that remain are my fault. More general and heartfelt

thanks are due to all my teachers and fellow students at Southwestern Aikikai and in

the Western Region of the United States Aikido Federation.

Depending on the circumstance, you should be: hard as a diamond, flexible as

a willow, smooth-flowing like water, or empty as space.

—Morihei Ueshiba

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PROLOGUE

« ^ »

KATSU JIN KEN: THE SWORD THAT SAVES LIFE

They huddled on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, in a rock pocket off the main

corridor, moving their heads carefully to avoid banging them on the low roof. A

single low-wattage light shone down on dirty hands clutching notes and data screens.

Unkempt hair floated above wrinkled brows and sunken cheeks. The fresh, sharp

tang of acetic acid from caulk-covered cracks mixed with the ever-present smell of

sweat, ammonia, and feces.

Those crowded into the corridor outside envied them.

“Is the recorder on?”

“Yes.”

“This meeting of the executive committee is in session. Minutes are accepted as

filed. The only item on the agenda is the emigration vote.”

A minor quake shook the rock slightly and Dr. Herrin stopped talking. Eyes

widened and down the corridor somebody started screaming and thrashing around.

Dr. Herrin ignored the noise and concentrated on her breathing.

She was sitting seiza, on her shins, composed, her shoulders relaxed, a sharp

contrast to the others, who were sitting cross-legged or leaning back against the

rough rock walls. Many of those clutched their knees and squeezed their eyes shut.

If the section was holed badly, there wasn’t anything that could be done. There

weren’t enough pressure suits to go around. She hoped that the panic in the corridor

wouldn’t spread. They had to keep the pathway clear so that the emergency squads

could get to smaller leaks—the ones that could be repaired.

The month before they’d lost forty-nine men, women, and children when a quake

holed a corridor. Vacuum decompression is a violent death, and any death was hard

to face after so many dead on Earth. Two of the cleanup crew went back to their

niches and poisoned themselves.

The quake subsided and the screams down the hall died to violent sobbing.

Dr. Herrin continued. “There is high confidence in the accuracy of this data?”

Novato, a woman wearing a faded pair of NASA/ESA coveralls, nodded.

Herrin swallowed convulsively, then put her fingertips to her temples and closed

her eyes. “Let’s reiterate.” She opened her eyes and held up five fingers. “The probe

data is more than conclusive. Epsilon Eridani has an Earth-sized planet with a CO2

nitrogen/water vapor atmosphere. The probe has initiated phase one seeding and

initial results are excellent—the tailored bacteria are reproducing exponentially and

already producing detectable oxygen. And, as you know, these results are

twenty-five years old. Based on this data, current estimates indicate that by now,

though there are still toxic levels of CO2, the atmosphere is at least ten percent

oxygen.

“However, in the hundred and thirty years it will take the ship to reach the system,

the bacteria will finish the job. The atmosphere will be fully breathable. Resulting

temperatures will be in the Earth-normal range.

“These are not only encouraging results—they’re optimal.”

Stavinoha, a middle-age man with a shaved head, said, “It’s certainly better than

we can get from this solar system.” Stavinoha had been the last person off Planet

Earth, launching from the Baikonur Cosmodrome in a converted ICBM six weeks

after the Earth’s mantle was breached at Tehran and, miraculously, snagged at the

peak of his ballistic arc by an American Epsilon-Class orbital tug. Unlike the rest of

them, he knew firsthand how bad conditions were on the planet.

The temperatures at Earth’s equator hovered around 4 degrees Centigrade.

Snowstorms and high-altitude dust clouded the planet.

Herrin continued. “There are seven thousand humans on the moon in facilities

designed for six hundred. If we don’t do something about reducing the load on our

current resources, everyone will die. Given our current status, we might die even if

we do reduce the load.”

More nods.

“So, we send four thousand in the ship in cold sleep for one hundred and

twenty-five years. However, since it was designed for one thousand, we’ll have to

use cargo space as well. This is acceptable because we can’t afford to send all that

equipment and supplies away. We need it here to survive on Luna and, eventually, to

rehabilitate the Earth.”

“But they’ll need that equipment!” said the NASA/ESA rep. “It was in the

original mission specs!”

Dr. Herrin shook her head. “Yes and no. They’ll need that equipment if they’re to

have a high-tech society at that end. It’s been estimated that they won’t need it to

survive. It’s a certainty that we do need it here to survive.”

She paused to look around the room. “So… our main problem is how to insure

they have the highest chances of survival given a low-tech environment.” Dr. Herrin

looked now at Dr. Guyton, a small man wedged into the corner outside the circle of

the executive committee. “I’d like the Focus Committee to summarize the proposal.”

Dr. Guyton, an anthropologist, leaned forward and cleared his throat. “We feel

that there are three areas we must concentrate on: nutrition, hygiene, and literacy. As

you know, the ship already holds a comprehensive and nearly indestructible library.

If we can get the colony to retain literacy while surviving the initial colonization

effort, we think they can build back to a comparable technology within three hundred

years. In the meanwhile, maintaining good hygiene and nutrition will take care of

ninety percent of their health problems. Other problems can be taken care of by

practical nursing, but, no matter which way you stretch it, they’ll lose people that we

could save with our current technology.”

He looked around to make sure everyone understood. “What is needed is a

strongly enforced code of behavior that will insure good nutrition and hygiene as

well as keep succeeding generations literate.

“Codes of this kind have been a part of every viable culture in our planet’s

history, but the most striking example is that of the Talmudic Laws followed by

Judaism. Not only do they provide specific instruction on nutrition and hygiene, they

also require a Jew to demonstrate literacy as he comes of age.”

“We don’t have four thousand Jews on the moon,” said Spruill of Logistics.

“No, of course not. Besides, we need a much more abbreviated version than the

Talmud. It contains much that is inapplicable and, frankly, countersurvival under

these circumstances. My staff has prepared the basic tenets, and we are fleshing

them out. We will be ready by the time the ship is.”

Bauer, a former congressman from Connecticut, spoke. “What’s to make them

follow your code? When they’re scrambling to stay alive on that distant world,

what’s to make them take the time to teach it to their children? Are you going to

hand it down to them on clay tablets?”

“No.” Dr. Guyton exchanged glances with Dr. Herrin. “We propose using the

imprinter.”

Bauer recoiled. “Jesus Christ!”

Another voice said, “You want to do what?”

There was a moment of chaos as everybody tried to speak at once. It subsided

almost immediately, but faces betrayed rage and fear.

Herrin raised her hand and let the silence stretch a bit before she spoke.

“Consider carefully, please. Everything depends on what we decide here today.”

She waited a moment. “Bauer, you object to the imprinter?”

“Our fellow humans destroyed each other because of the imprinter! I’m outraged

that there’s even one on the moon! How could this happen?”

Dr. Guyton shook his head. “There isn’t an imprinter on the moon… but we

know how to make them.” He leaned forward and held out his hands. “Look, it’s

true that the French dropped Mag Bottle Seventy-four on Tehran because the

Iranians were using the imprinter to forcibly convert Muslims and non-Muslims to

their particular brand of Shiite fundamentalism. But this is an argument against

antimatter as much as it is against the imprinter. We can’t ignore the fact that it could

make the difference between life and death for the human race! If we imprint the

tenets on the colonists, they’ll adhere to them automatically—with almost religious

fervor. This will assure that they pass it on to their children at the earliest age. It’s

not as if we’re inducting them into a particular political or religious philosophy.

“And we must also consider the imprinter’s ability to drop a lifetime of

experience into the user’s mind. If we were to send loaded imprinters with the crew,

we would have a further hedge against failure.”

Bauer exploded. “At what cost? You know that information instilled by

personality dump is useless without adequate preparatory education. You do that to

an ignorant man and you’ll end up with a dangerously confused ignorant man.

Besides, no matter whom you choose for the template, there’s no such thing as

slant-free information. A political bent will still be imparted!”

The chairman leaned forward. “We are wasting time.”

“It’s important!”

“As important as the survival of the human race?” Dr. Herrin turned to the Dr.

Guyton. “Is that the extent of the proposal?”

“I just want to point out, again, that this also gets all the antimatter manufactured

to date out of the system. But yes, that’s the extent of the proposal,” the

anthropologist said.

“Then I call for a vote.”

The tally of the main committee was seven in favor, one against.

Dr. Herrin looked at the next page of her clipboard. “Very well. Prepare the

catapult. Initiate the ship modifications after the cargo has been removed from the

holds and put in stable orbits. We currently don’t have the fuel to bring it down to

the moon’s surface, but it’ll be safe up there until we do. As soon as the passenger

bags are ready for the launch buckets and the ship is moved to the L-2 point, we set

up a catcher crew. As proposed earlier, imprinting will be done after the first stage of

cold sleep prep. If they wake up at the other end”—she spread her hands and

exhaled—“well, they’ll have religion.”

After the vote, Bauer had rested his face in his hands, but he looked up at she

said this. “You’re not going to tell them?”

“No,” the chairman said.

Bauer’s face turned white. “You must! If you don’t, I will!”

The chairman looked at his furious face and thought about her two daughters,

now among five billion humans dead. “Consider how many lives your announcement

would end. Panic leading to riots could kill us all.”

“Nonsense,” said Bauer. “That’s the sort of argument that’s been used to control

people through the ages. The only way I’ll keep quiet is if you abandon this plan to

use the imprinter.”

She placed the palms of her hands together, fingers up, and bowed from the

waist. “Then I’m sorry.”

He frowned, puzzled. “Sorry? What do you mean? If you think for one minute

that an apology will change my—”

She moved, then, forward in shikko, samurai knee-walking, skimming the floor,

really, in the low gravity.

He raised his hands as she closed, uncertain, surprised. She was a small woman,

unarmed, after all, and he was a large man.

She brushed her right arm against his right wrist and then pivoted, sliding beside

him, faster than he could turn to follow. As he tried to twist around, she swept his

right arm down with both of her hands, to the floor and back, then the edge of her

left hand cut down into the back of his shoulder as she moved behind him, twisting

her hips. He bent over abruptly, facedown, his own arm a crowbar levering his torso

down.

She reached across the back of his head with her right hand, slid it down across

the side of his face, and reached under, to cup his chin. Then she pulled, twisting her

hips and shoulder back in one abrupt movement.

Bauer stared up at her, his torso still facing down, his neck twisted one hundred

eighty degrees.

Everyone in the small chamber heard his spine snap.

Dr. Herrin laid him on his back, carefully, folding his hands across his chest, then

backed away, still on her knees. She bowed again, to the body.

The rest of the committee stared, shocked, shifting their eyes between her and

Bauer’s lifeless form.

When Dr. Herrin finally spoke, her voice was calm. “The vote on emigration

stands. I depend on you, Dr. Guyton, to handle the imprinting procedure with

appropriate candor. As to my behavior in this incident”—she nodded toward

Bauer’s body—“I tender my immediate resignation.”

She slumped then, her hands folded on her lap, her eyes downcast. In a quiet,

empty voice she said, “I have betrayed my training. If the committee decides I

should live, I would like to go with the colony.”

ONE

« ^ »

SHOSHIN: BEGINNER’S MIND

First there was the cyanophyta, the blue-green algae, a hundred different kinds,

tailored to float at various strata of the atmosphere, to lie in puddles of water, to

infest the shallow seas. They were injected into the upper atmosphere in ablative

capsules that exploded when they’d sloughed off enough heat and velocity and

floated on the winds.

Some varieties went extinct, never finding their needed habitat, but others thrived,

harvesting carbon out of the all-too-plentiful CO2 and releasing oxygen and, at an

exponential rate, reproducing.

Next, when the temperatures began to subside, came the lichens, desert, arctic,

jungle, temperate—tiny filaments of fungus surrounding algae cells. These soredium

fell like fine ash, scattered through the atmosphere to fall gently to the rocky surface.

In some regions the fungus couldn’t attach to the rock, or there wasn’t enough

water, or sunlight, or there was too high a concentration of heavy metals, or it was

too hot, or too cold, or any of a hundred other versions of just not right. But

elsewhere, in the cracks, in drifts of crumbling rock, and in basins of dust, they

thrived, the fungal layers absorbing minerals and water while the algae did their

photosynthetic magic with CO2 and sunlight.

Right behind the lichens came the decomposers, bacteria and fungi critical to the

breakdown of biological material. The fungal filaments of lichen found tiny cracks

and flaked off bit after bit of rock. And as parts of the lichen aged, or conditions

changed, they died, and the decomposers went to work, mixing with the dust and

water—a simple sort of topsoil was born.

Later the grasses, clovers, and other complex groundcovers came, along with

simple aquatic plants, and desmids and other freshwater plant plankton, more

ablative capsules put in deliberately decaying orbits and entering the atmosphere like

clockwork—ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years after the lichens. Freeze-dried

bundles of bacteria, fungi, and seeds encased in nutrient pellets fell like rain to die,

flourish, or lie in wait.

These early arrivals were limited to those varieties that could self-pollinate or

spread asexually, by budding and branching. Their root systems were, for the most

part, shallow. Except for pockets and basins where natural forces had concentrated

dust and rubble before the arrival of life, the new soil was thin and tenuous, easily

disturbed by wind and water.

The first insects arrived by parachute, in capsules targeted on the highest

concentrations of reflected chlorophyll spectra. While the capsules still floated high

above the ground, small openings ejected newly revived impregnated queens of the

honeybee, the Asian carpenter bee, and the bumblebee, as well as fireflies, caddis

flies, nonbiting midges, cockroaches, and lac bugs. Closer to the ground, the

capsules scattered earthworms, butterfly larvae, crane-fly larvae, and crickets.

Specialized capsules delivered animal plankton—rotifers, copepods, and

cladocerans—to bodies of water large enough to detect from orbit.

The next spring came the predators: praying mantises, ladybugs, ground beetles,

and other insects. Spiders included the orb weaver, trapdoor, tarantula, jumping, and

wolf. The capsules scattered them wide, ejected kilometers above the surface in

gossamer packets of protein webbing that slowed their fall. On the ground, the

webbing broke down, oxidized within minutes of creation, freeing the spiders and

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Scanned&proofedbyunknown.Cleaned,re-formatted&proofreadbynukie.Color:-1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8--9-TextSize:10--11--12--13--14--15--16--17--18--19--20--21--22--23--24HELMStevenGould Copyright©1998byStevenGouldISBN:0-812-57135-5TableofContentsAcknowledgmentsPROLOGUEKATSUJINKEN:THESWORDTHATSAVESLIFEONESH...

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Steven Gould - Helm

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