Pastwatch

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PASTWATCH: THE REDEMPTION OF CHRISTOPHER

COLUMBUS

By Orson Scott Card

Pastwatch

Some people called it "the time of undoing"; some, wishing to be more positive, spoke of it as "the

replanting" or "the restoring" or even "the resurrection" of the Earth. All these names were

accurate. Something had been done, and now it was being undone. Much had died or been broken

or killed, and now it was coming back to life.

This was the work of the world in those days: Nutrients were put back in the soil of the great rain

forests of the world, so the trees could grow tall again. Grazing was banished from the edges of the

great deserts of Africa and Asia, and grass was planted so that steppe and then savanna could

slowly reconquer territory they had lost to the stone and sand. Though the weather stations high in

orbit could not change the climate, they tweaked the winds often enough that no spot on Earth

would suffer drought or flood, or lack for sunlight. In great preserves the surviving animals learned

how to live again in the wild. All the nations of the world had an equal claim on food, and no one

feared hunger anymore. Good teachers came to every child, and every man and woman had a

decent chance to become whatever his or her talents and passions and desires led them to become.

It should have been a happy time, with humanity pressing forward into a future in which the world

would be healed, in which a comfortable life could be lived without the shame of knowing that it

came at someone else's expense. And for many -- perhaps most -- it was. But many others could not

turn their faces from the shadows of the past. Too many creatures were missing, never to be

restored. Too many people, too many nations now lay buried in the soil of the past. Once the world

had teemed with seven billion human lives. Now a tenth that number tended the gardens of Earth.

The survivors could not easily forget the century of war and plague, of drought and flood and

famine, of desperate fury leading to despair. Every step of every living man and woman trod on

someone's grave, or so it seemed.

So it was not only forests and grasslands that were brought back to life. People also sought to

bring back the lost memories, the stories, the intertwining paths that men and women had followed

that led them to their times of glory and their times of shame. They built machines that let them see

into the past, at first the great sweeping changes across the centuries, and then, as the machinery

was refined, the faces and the voices of the dead.

They knew, of course, that they could not record it all. There were not enough alive to witness all

the actions of the dead. But by sampling here and there, by following this question to its answer,

that nation to its end, the men and women of Pastwatch could tell stories to their fellow citizens,

true fables that explained why nations rose and fell; why men and women envied, raged, and loved;

why children laughed in sunlight and trembled in the dark of night.

Pastwatch remembered so many forgotten stories, replicated so many lost or broken works of art,

recovered so many customs, fashions, jokes, and games, so many religions and philosophies, that

sometimes it seemed that there was no need to think up anything again. All of history was

available, it seemed, and yet Pastwatch had barely scratched the surface of the past, and most

watchers looked forward to a limitless future of rummaging through time.

Chapter 1 -- The Governor

There was only one time when Columbus despaired of making his voyage. It was the night of

August 23rd, in the port of Las Palmas on Grand Canary Island.

After so many years of struggle, his three caravels had finally set sail from Palos, only to run into

trouble almost at once. After so many priests and gentlemen in the courts of Spain and Portugal had

smiled at him and then tried to destroy him behind his back, Columbus found it hard to believe that

it wasn't sabotage when the rudder of the Pinta came loose and nearly broke. After all, Quintero, the

owner of the Pinta, was so nervous about having his little ship go out on such a voyage that he had

signed on as a common seaman, just to keep an eye on his property. And Pinz¢n told him privately

that he had seen a group of men gathered at the stern of the Pinta just as they were setting sail.

Pinz¢n fixed the rudder himself, at sea, but the next day it broke again. Pinz¢n was furious, but he

vowed to Columbus that the Pinta would meet him at Las Palmas within days.

So confident was Columbus of Pinz¢n's ability and commitment to the voyage that he gave no

more thought to the Pinta. He sailed with the Santa Maria and the Niha to the island of Gomera,

where Beatrice de Bobadilla was governor. It was a meeting he had long looked forward to, a

chance to celebrate his triumph over the court of Spain with one who had made it plain she longed

for his success. But Lady Beatrice was not at home. And as he waited, day after day, he had to

endure two intolerable things.

The first consisted of having to listen politely to the petty gentlemen of Beatrice's little court, who

kept telling him the most appalling lies about how on certain bright days, from the island of Ferro,

westernmost of the Canaries, one could see a faint image of a blue island on the western horizon--

as if plenty of ships had not already sailed that far west! But Columbus had grown skilled at

smiling and nodding at the most outrageous stupidity. One did not survive at court without that

particular skill, and Columbus had weathered not only the wandering courts of Ferdinand and

Isabella, but also the more settled and deeply arrogant court of John of Portugal. And after waiting

decades to win the ships and men and supplies and, above all, the permission to make this voyage,

he could endure a few more days of conversation with stupid gentlemen. Though he sometimes had

to grind his teeth not to point out how utterly useless they must be in the eyes of God and everyone

else, if they could find nothing better to do with their lives than wait about in the court of the

governor of Gomera when she was not even at home. No doubt they amused Beatrice -- she had

shown a keen appreciation of the worthlessness of most men of the knightly class when she

conversed with Columbus at the royal court at Santa Fe. No doubt she skewered them constantly

with ironic barbs which they did not realize were ironic.

More intolerable by far was the silence from Las Palmas. He had left men there with instructions

to tell him as soon as Pinz¢n managed to bring the Pinta into port. But no word came, day after day,

as the stupidity of the courtiers became more insufferable, until finally he refused to tolerate either

of the intolerables a moment longer. Bidding a grateful adios to the gentlemen of Gomera, he set

sail for Las Palmas himself, only to find when he arrived on the 23rd of August that the Pinta was

still not there.

The worst possibilities immediately came to mind. The saboteurs were so grimly determined not

to complete the voyage that there had been a mutiny, or they had somehow persuaded Pinz¢n to

turn around and sail for Spain. Or they were adrift in the currents of the Atlantic, getting swept to

some unnameable destination. Or pirates had taken them -- or the Portuguese, who might have

thought they were part of some foolish Spanish effort to poach on their private preserve along the

coasts of Africa. Or Pinz¢n, who clearly thought himself better suited to lead the expedition than

Columbus himself -- though he would never have been able to win royal sponsorship for such an

expedition, having neither the education, the manners, nor the patience that it had required -- might

have had the foolish notion of sailing on ahead, reaching the Indies before Columbus.

All of these were possible, and from one moment to the next each seemed likely. Columbus

withdrew from human company that night and threw himself to his knees -- not for the first time,

but never before with such anger at the Almighty. "I have done all you set for me to do," he said, "I

have pushed and pleaded, and never once have you given me the slightest encouragement, even in

the darkest times. Yet my trust never failed, and at last I got the expedition on the exact terms that

were required. We set sail. My plan was good. The season was right. The crew is skilled even if

they think themselves better sailors than their commander. All I needed now, all that I needed, after

everything I've endured till now, was for something to go right."

Was this too bold a thing for him to say to the Lord? Probably. But Columbus had spoken boldly

to powerful men before, and so the words spilled easily from his heart to flow from his tongue. God

could strike him down for it if he wanted -- Columbus had put himself in God's hands years before,

and he was weary.

"Was that too much for you, most gracious Lord? Did you have to take away my third ship? My

best sailor? Did you even have to deprive me of the kindness of Lady Beatrice? It is obvious that I

have not found favor in your eyes, O Lord, and therefore I urge you to find somebody else. Strike

me dead if you want, it could hardly be worse than killing me by inches, which seems to be your

plan at this moment. I'll tell you what. I will stay in your service for one more day. Send me the

Pinta or show me what else you want me to do, but I swear by your most holy and terrible name, I

will not sail on such a voyage with fewer than three ships, well equipped and fully crewed. I've

become an old man in your service, and as of tomorrow night, I intend to resign and live on

whatever pension you see fit to provide me with." Then he crossed himself. "In the name of the

Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Having finished this most impious and offensive prayer, Columbus could not sleep until at last, no

less angry than before, he flung himself out of bed and knelt again.

"Nevertheless thy will not mine be done!" he said furiously. Then he climbed back into bed and

promptly fell asleep.

The next morning the Pinta limped into port. Columbus took it as the final confirmation that God

really was still interested in the success of this voyage. Very well, thought Columbus. You didn't

strike me dead for my disrespect, Lord; instead you sent me the Pinta. Therefore I will prove to you

that I am still your loyal servant.

He did it by working half the citizens of Las Palmas, or so it seemed, into a frenzy. The port had

plenty of carpenters and caulkers, smiths and cordwainers and sailmakers, and it seemed that all of

them were pressed into service on the Pinta. Pinz¢n was fall of defiant apologies -- they had been

adrift for nearly two weeks before he was finally able, by brilliant seamanship, to bring the Pinta

into exactly the port he had promised. Columbus was still suspicious, but didn't show it. Whatever

the truth was, Pinz¢n was here now, and so was the Pinta, complete with a rather sullen Quintero.

That was good enough for Columbus.

And as long as he had the attention of the shipworkers of Las Palmas, he finally bullied Juan

Nino, the owner of the Nina, into changing from his triangular sails to the same square rigging as

the other caravels, so they'd all be catching the same winds and, God willing, sailing together to the

court of the great Khan of China.

It took only a week to have all three ships in better shape than they had been in upon leaving

Palos, and this time there were no unfortunate failures of vital equipment. If there had been

saboteurs before, they were no doubt sobered by the fact that both Columbus and Pinz¢n seemed

determined to sail on at all costs -- not to mention the fact that now if the expedition failed, they

might end up stranded on the Canary Islands, with little prospect of returning anytime soon to

Palos.

And so gracious was God in answering Columbus's impudent prayer that when at last he sailed

into Gomera for the final resupply of his ships, the banner of the governor was flying above the

battlements of the castle of San Sebastidn.

Any fears he might have had that Beatrice de Bobadilla no longer held him in high esteem were

removed at once. When he was announced, she immediately dismissed all the other gentlemen who

had so condescended to Columbus the week before. "Cristobal, my brother, my friend!" she cried.

When he had kissed her hand she led him from the court to a garden, where they sat in the shade of

a tree and he told her of all that had transpired since they last met at Santa Fe.

She listened, rapt, asking intelligent questions and laughing at his tales of the hideous interference

the king had visited upon Columbus almost as soon as he had signed the capitulations. "Instead of

paying for three caravels, he dredged up some ancient offense that the city of Palos had committed

-- smuggling, no doubt--"

"The primary industry of Palos for many years, I'm told," said Beatrice.

"And as their punishment, he required them to pay a fine of exactly two caravels."

"I'm surprised he didn't make them pay for all three," said Beatrice. "He's a hard loaf, dear old

Ferdinand. But he did pay for a war without going bankrupt. And he has just expelled the Jews, so

it isn't as if he has anybody to borrow from."

"The irony is that seven years ago, the Duke of Sidonia would have bought me three caravels from

Palos out of his own treasury, if the crown had not refused him permission."

"Dear old Enrique -- he's always had far more money than the crown, and he just can't understand

why that doesn't make him more powerful than they are."

"Anyway, you can imagine how glad they were to see me in Palos. And then, to make sure both

cheeks were well slapped, he issued a proclamation that any man who agreed to join my expedition

would win a suspension of any civil and criminal actions pending against him."

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. You can imagine what that did to the real sailors of Palos. They weren't going to sail

with a bunch of criminals and debtors -- or run the risk of people thinking that they had needed

such a pardon."

"His Majesty no doubt imagined that it would take such an incentive to persuade anyone to sail

with you on your mad adventure."

"Yes, well, his 'help' nearly killed the expedition from the start."

"So -- how many felons and paupers are there in your crew?"

"None, or at least none that we know of. Thank God for Martin Pinz¢n."

"Oh, yes, a man of legend."

"You know of him?"

"All the sailors' lore comes to the Canaries. We live by the sea."

"He caught the vision of the thing. But once he noised it about that he was going, we started to get

recruits. And it was his friends who ended up risking their caravels on the voyage."

"Not free of charge, of course."

"They hope to be rich, at least by their standards."

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摘要：

PASTWATCH:THEREDEMPTIONOFCHRISTOPHERCOLUMBUSByOrsonScottCardPastwatchSomepeoplecalledit"thetimeofundoing";some,wishingtobemorepositive,spokeofitas"thereplanting"or"therestoring"oreven"theresurrection"oftheEarth.Allthesenameswereaccurate.Somethinghadbeendone,andnowitwasbeingundone.Muchhaddiedorbeenbr...

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