Leo Frankowski - Two Space War

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Dave Grossman & Leo Frankowski - Two Space War

Introduction

CALIPH: Ah, if there shall ever arise a nation whose people have forgotten poetry or whose poets have

forgotten the people, though they send their ships round Taprobane and their armies across the hills of

Hindustan, though their city be greater than Babylon of old, though they mine a league into earth or

mount to the stars on wings-what of them?

HASSAN: They will be a dark patch upon the world.

Quoted in Other Men's Flowers

by Field Marshall Earl A.P. Wavell

On Warriors and Warrior Scientists

My "day job" is to be on the road, almost 300 days a year, training soldiers (the Green Berets, the

Rangers, the USMC, etc.) and cops (the FBI, the ATF, the CHP, the RCMP, etc.) about the psychology

and physiology of combat. It's a great job. I teach them and then they teach me, in an endless, ever

refining feedback loop. I can never thank them enough for putting it on the line for us, every day, and for

sharing their experiences with me. You can get a better feel for what I do, and take a look at some of my

scholarly writings on these topics, on my web site: www.killology.com, or my books, On Killing and On

Combat.

I need to thank my fellow "warrior scientists." The concept of science fiction has usually involved the

integration of science, or projected science, into fiction. This is the first book to integrate the new field

of "warrior science" into fiction. The characters in my book cite real "twenty-first century" researchers

such as Alexis Artwohl, coauthor of Deadly Force Encounters, and Bruce Siddle, the man who coined

the term "warrior science" and the author of Sharpening the Warrior's Edge. I sincerely believe that

hundreds of years from now these pioneer friends of mine will be remembered and cited.

The combat experiences of my characters are based upon the latest research, on what I'm teaching, and

on what those who have been there have taught me. Any errors are my own!

On Poetry and Science Fiction

If not otherwise indicated, the titles and authors of the poetry used throughout the book are listed at the

end. Lord Wavell and his book, Other Men's Flowers, deserve special mention. Wavell was the

commander of the British Empire's armed forces in World War II. After the war he put all the poems

that he had committed to memory (that's right, to memory) in a book. Wavell, perhaps the last of the

great "warrior poets," is one of the models for my hero, Lieutenant Melville.

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I've tried to craft a world in which deep respect, even veneration for poetry could exist, but in reality

there's no need to make up such a world. Throughout history, from Homer through Lord Wavell,

warriors existed in that world. In an environment such as two-space, where technology can't exist, the

power of well crafted words would again be the key to men's hearts. The leader who masters such words

would have a powerful edge in mastering his men.

I also wanted to construct a world in which science fiction would be the primary literature to survive

from our era. The creators of SF are "pure poetry" to my soul, giants on whose shoulders I stand.

On Poets

But most of all I thank the poets who have gone before me. The poets of words and the poets of bullets,

blows and swords. They wrote down their poems, or their narratives of combat, or they allowed me to

interview them. They made it possible for me (as Lord Wavell puts it, quoting Montaigne) to build a

garden "of other men's flowers."

When you read these poems, I encourage you to read them aloud. Or, if you're in a public place, at least

mumble them quietly! For poetry was meant to be spoken, not read, and you lose half the joy if you

don't let these words, these ancient, powerful words, roll off your tongue and o'er your lips.

Hopefully the words in between the poetry will give you some small measure of pleasure as well.

And Finally

To Leo Frankowski, a great partner and true gentleman, friend, and scholar of the old school. To our

publisher, Jim Baen, who has proven himself to be a good friend and a man of vision. To my faithful and

true friends and proofreaders: Rocky Warren, Steel Parsons, John Lang, Elantu, CC, and many others.

Most of all, to my princess and favorite proofreader, my Jeanne. In Beethoven's words, "From the heart

it has come, to the heart it shall go."

Hooah!

Dave Grossman

The Crew

of Her Majesty, the Queen of Westerness'

24-Pounder Frigate, Fang

Lt. Thomas Melville, Captain

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McAndrews, his steward

Ulrich, his coxswain, "cox'in"

Archibald Hargis, his clerk

Lt. Daniel Fielder, First Officer

Lady Elphinstone, Ship's surgeon, a Sylvan

Mrs. Vodi, her "lob-lolly girl"

Pete Etzen, a corpsman (medic), "Doc"

Thadeaus Brun, a corpsman (medic), "Doc"

Brother Theo Petreckski, Ship's purser, a monk

Mr. Caleb Tibbits, Ship's carpenter, "Chips"

Mr. Darren Barlet, Ship's master gunner, "Guns"

Sgt. Don Von Rito, Ship's gunnery sergeant, "Gunny"

Chief Petty Officer Bronson Hans, "Chief." Later "Mr." and Ship's sailing master

Marines

Sgt. Broadax, a Dwarrowdelf. Later "Lt."

Cpl. Kobbsven

Private Harold Jarvis

Rangers

Josiah Westminster

Aubrey Valandil, a Sylvan

Midshipmen

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Jarad Crater. Later "Lt."

Buckley Archer. Later "Lt."

Garth Aquinar

Faisal, Chang, Hezikiah Jubal, Lao Tung, Kande Ngobe, and Ellis Palmer

Ship's Dogs

Ship's Cats

The Monkeys

Chapter the 1st

A Race of Rangers

They were the glory of the race of rangers,

Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship,

Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and affectionate,

Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters...

Retreating they form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks,

Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemy's, nine times

Their number, was the price they took in advance...

"Song of Myself"

Walt Whitman

"What does that boy think he's doing?" muttered Lieutenant Thomas Melville. He sat on the Pier in the

oppressive heat of mid-afternoon. He'd received only one wound in their recent battle, an ignominious

clawing of his right buttock. Not too deep, but sufficient to make him sit carefully. Spread before him

was the emerald shade of the copse of huge trees they'd fought so hard to defend. Exhausted and spent

from desperate battle, he watched little Midshipman Aquinar as he crawled into the white bones of their

beached cutter.

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He looked out on the vast expanse of forest that encompassed their hill. Reaching up and behind him he

put a hand on the Keel of his Ship, which now formed the Pier. Funny, we know nothing about this

world, except what we can see from here, or what our scouts tell us. We're like some old sailors. Like

Columbus, making first landfall on a new continent. All we could tell from two-space was that it was a

green world, and would probably support life. Then we had to crash, like some sailing ship smashing

itself on a reef to enter into a new land. Now you, my friend, my old Ship, are the link, the Pier across

that reef.

Yep, yep. Answered Swish-tail, I'm there, and I'm here!

Through this strange, telepathic link with his faithful Ship, Melville "heard" these words, but they came

with a great weight of context and additional information that was subtly communicated, so that

Melville knew exactly what Swish-tail meant. The Keel of his little ship now disappeared up into two-

space, into Flatland, forming a link between the two realms. It was here, and there.

Funny, in the old, classic science fiction novels they were always talking about going into the fourth or

fifth dimensions to go between planets. Ha! Things just get further apart when you add dimensions. I

wonder why none of them thought about going the other way, into the second dimension. Into Flatland.

A book called Flatland was one of the very earliest science fiction novels, dating all the way back to the

nineteenth century. It seems so simple, really. Just pop into two-space where things are so much closer

together, sail to where you want to go, and pop back out. The problem is that instead of orbiting around

a world, looking at it from outer space, in Flatland all you see is this big green and blue blob that you

sail into. Just like seeing green shores on the other side of the reef. Unfortunately, you have to crash

your ship to get across the reef, and you have no idea what's waiting for you.

Yep, yep. Came down with a crash!

Melville thought back, This world could work you know. We were supposed to find an unclaimed world

on the frontier between the Guldur and Stolsh empires. This was a historical first, a cooperative effort

with the prominent Sylvan world of Osgil. A trading base right between Guldur and Stolsh would have

really paid off for us and the Sylvans. Still might, if only Kestrel would come back for us. Do you really

think she's still out there?

Think so... Feel her there...

But we had to wreck you to get here. Melville added, looking sadly at his old command, his little cutter,

lying on its side next to the copse of trees that topped this hill. Do you regret it?

Nope. Is good world.

Still, it was sad. Was there anything in the universe quite so sad as a beached sailing ship? Especially a

Ship of two-space, looking like two old-time wooden sailing ships joined at the waterline, with masts

protruding out from both top and bottom. They were majestic and grand, with their sails spread as they

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Leo Frankowski - Two Space War

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