Part 1

CAPTAIN of the KALI

By Gary Wright

Sail down the wind, Kali! Victory waits across the seas--and so does death!

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

John Ward, God Helper, hung in his chair like a damp, empty uniform. An open, four-foot port showed a circle of blazing blue sky and a regular glimpse of a high, curving topsail. The humid, hot salty flavor of a strange sea blanketed the cabin, and sparked a sudden thought:

"What the hell am I doing here?"

There was no prompt answer. The wind rushed and moaned. The roiling water crashed and hissed under the stern. The following ship heaved its topsail into sight again, and withdrew it. A lilting chant drifted like smoke on the wind.

_We ride the wind down like sleek, skimming birds. The seething foam furrows follow true. The sky is clouded with our singing sails. We ride the wind down, down the wind._

He was Comet Colonel John Ward, Terran Confederation, Earth; he was certain of that. Age? Forty-two, more or less. Specialty? Historical Naval Tactician. If you had to call it something you might as well call it that. Hobby? Sailing. But, God, Snipes and Lightnings aren't ships-of-the-line! Reading? Well ... lyric poetry and ancient history, if you must know. Present Occupation? God Helper. No, call that Commander Advisor to the Kali, Aqua. Future? Oh, hell-yes; right up the....

_Wide shouldered, wave exploding, trim twin-hulled we come. First, the sky tall, fine first-liners. Then the seconds, flanking fast. Lean and level slide the frigates. All around us flash the corvettes. Ride the wind down, Kali seamen, down the wind to Ande-Ke._

Six months ago he had a future all outlined, but six months ago he was a shining God Helper, come in glory. Now he was simply a God Helper, and sometimes not even that.

_We are the Kali. The fortunate ones. Yes! Heirs to our wind and water world. Like our ships we are tall and proud. Like our wind we are wild and restless. Like our sea we are strong and savage. This is our world, wide and lonely. Ride the wind down. Kali brothers, down the wind to Anda-Ke._

* * * * *

Six months on this barely discovered, one per cent land area, behind-the-galaxy planet, with piercing Confederation insight: Aqua. Where the land was scattered about like pepper on an egg, and even the wind tried to run backwards.

_Down the wind at Anda-Ke--there is trouble. There we meet the stupid Grimnal. There the challenging, groveling Grimnal. He will plead for his wives and children. And, as proper Kali seamen. We will keep them soft and happy. After, we send their men away, Under the hungry gray-green water: Under the wind as we ride the wind down, down the wind to victory._

And here he still was, trying to show some life-loving, song-singing, battle-mad, contrary-thinking, conceived of leather and salt spray, five-foot humanoids how to fight a sea war.

And that was really quite a joke. The Kali and the Grimnal had been at this for a hundred years, and doing quite well. They were in no danger of getting overpopulated for one thing, and had evolved a dual power political system over the entire planet before the invention of an explosive. But now, being newly discovered by bigger and better dual powers, they were being shown how to fight in a bigger and better way. Only the Grimnal seemed to be learning, however. Oh, the Kali listened, and even followed directions, but they seemed incapable of understanding that slamming two corvettes upwind into the guns of eight first-liners was simply not good military tactics.

They had a game. Something like Tag in reverse. One man was It, and everyone on ship tried to catch him. He could go anywhere, do anything, even cut the rigging as long as it didn't endanger the ship. The more daring he was, the better. Ward had watched one make a hundred and fifty foot dive from a skysail yard with the ship making about twenty knots in a heavy sea. How do you go about explaining caution to a people like that?

* * * * *

But he had to. Somehow. Since the big boys had taken sides the Kali had been losing. Or, more accurately, Ward had been losing.

_All the Gods are busy Beings. We know. But even They have noticed now_,

Ward's wandering mind snapped back. This was a new verse.

_And sent a sky man down to help us; Sent a Helper down to lead us. But the ways of Gods are strange. The Grimnal leaps from isle to island, While the Kali stand and watch him. While the Gods and Helpers falter. Ride the wind down, Kali brothers. At Anda-Ke we stand the test._

A polite cough from behind reminded him that Captain Tahn was still in the cabin. The Kali coughed to express anything from rage to sheer joy, and this one probably meant that Ward's hearing the last verse was an accident. Ward swung around and glanced at him, but the Kali deliberately kept his slitted eyes on the chart before him. Ward was reminded again of the Kali likeness to the long vanished American Indian: black, straight hair; narrowed, snapping black eyes; high, angular cheek bones. But not much beyond that. If you took a fine featured Sioux of long ago ... shortened him about a foot, thinned him down--bones and all, raised his shoulders to a perpetual shrug, stretched his arms so that they still reached his hips, then starved him for a month ... you might be close. But if you took a picture of him then, and looked at it slightly sideways, you would almost have it. An extremely thin, short, shrugging strip of muscled rawhide.

Tahn coughed again; the your-attention-please cough. He swung a chart around for Ward to see. It was a rough drawing of Anda-Ke, the largest of the Grimnal Group, and more or less the home island. It looked somewhat like a startled elephant: mouth open, trunk arced out at an angle. The mouth was Anda Bay, and was guarded by Anda Passage where the lower lip came within two miles of the upper. The trunk was Pelo Head, and was broken about halfway down by Pelo Break. The area between the drooping trunk and the neck was the Grimnal Sea. It was into this that the Kali fleet was charging like a peanut sailing for the mouth.

Tahn tapped a pencil-like finger at the rearmost reach of Anda Bay.

* * * * *

"There," he said, in the Kali-Confederation mixture they found to be the shortest distance between two cultures. "Anchored there like marks on a sail. Feeling so safe in their home. Thinking we do not dare come after them. Grimnal rafts just waiting to go to the bottom."

"And the gliders?" Ward asked. "Are they returned? We have no information but the tales of two natives."

Tahn glanced at a water trickling, time-measuring device hanging from the overhead.

"Soon the gliders return, but...." He shrugged, somehow.

"And those are not rafts," Ward went on. "The natives said three, two and single gun rows. That means first and second-liners, frigates and probably corvettes. And they said 'many,' which means anywhere from fifty to two hundred."

Tahn coughed his agreement.

"But with Grimnal stupidity," he said, "they can do no more than run around in terror as we shell the city and fire their ships. We have this won."

Ward looked down at his bands, caught a deep breath, and continued.

"I have said before. We are not fighting just the Grimnal. We are fighting God Helpers too. Men like myself have come to help the Grimnal." He caught Tahn's flickering glance and added quickly, "Men who are probably better fighters than I am."

Tahn coughed and leaned his head sideways, fairly equivalent to a casual 'so what?'

"False Gods. False Helpers," he said.

Ward held his breath and swung back to face the port. Great, sizzling Hell! He wondered if his opposite with the Grimnal had such problems. Probably not. Problems weren't allowed in the United Peace Worlds. And with the Grimnal preference for island life over the sea, it apparently took little urging to make them want all the islands in the world.

"You realize," Ward said without turning, "that they have probably known of our coming for days."

"Good."

"And what would they still be doing at anchor?"

Cough, cough. Probably meaning how the hell should I know?

II

If only they didn't have this towering independency and conceit, Ward thought. They used to fight as individual ships. Then they weren't the least surprised if a lonely frigate was blown to splinters by an overwhelming Grimnal force. In fact, it was a thing of joy and beauty forever.

It was only by the very fiercest thundering had he gotten this fleet together under Tahn, and only Tahn's high position had kept it together. And God only knew how much longer it would hold together. The Grimnal had shown remarkable organization. Ward had pointed that out, and that was a gross mistake.

The Kali wanted nothing to do with what the Grimnal did.

A sharp rap sounded on the cabin door and a Kali slipped in. He made the casual motion that could be a salute, a greeting or a wave good-by, depending on circumstances.

"Two gliders return," he said happily. "In the bay are two first-liners, four second-liners, five frigates and some corvettes. All at anchor. Just waiting for us."

Ward nodded.

"How many corvettes?"

The Kali's face wrinkled in dismay.

"Fifty-six," he said softly.

Ward smiled to himself, and ran the Kali fleet by in his mind.

Eighteen first-liners mounting a hundred-twenty guns apiece. Eleven second-liners mounting eighty to ninety guns. Twenty-four frigates mounting fifty to sixty guns. Fifty-two corvettes mounting ten to twenty guns. A strong force, but not as strong as the Grimnal potential. Firmly, he said:

"We will run down almost to Anda Passage--then wait."

The Kali glanced at each other. Tahn coughed.

"Not to go in?"

"No!"

"Why?"

Ward took a deep breath and told himself to stay calm.

"We know there are land guns along the Passage. We know that even without them three first-liners could hold it against anything. We know that those ships in the bay are not the whole fleet. Where are the rest?"

Double cough. Double head bob. Two helpless expressions.

"We outnumber," Tahn said hopefully.

Ward muffled a smile. At least they were learning something.

"We cannot go in, Tahn. It's a trap."

Tahn was quiet, his whole body slowly coming to what Ward knew was hurt pride and anger.

"Then we wait?"

"We wait."

Tahn was nearly rigid, his voice fighting its cage of control.

"We wait like before?"

* * * * *

It was Ward's turn to let a tingling moment pass. This was the first overt mention of his past actions. He must walk softly. Kali temper was like nitroglycerine; one touch the wrong way....

"We wait only to learn of the other Grimnal ships," he said evenly. "We let them make the first move in order to see what they are doing. Then we strike--hard!"

After a long, breathless moment, Tahn coughed. It was one that Ward never heard before, but judging by sound, it was not meant to be pleasant. Ward stood up, stared directly at Tahn and said quietly "I charge you with honesty, Tahn."

It was a serious phrase. Tahn made the equivalent of a nod.

"There is much talk," he began, his voice higher pitched. "We ask ourselves why we do not fight. The Grimnal takes many islands; land that is ours. He does not defeat us, but we do not stop him. We wait as you tell us. We wait and see our islands lost.

"The Kali are ashamed, and the Grimnal laughs. We cannot go home and face our women and children.

"You come to show us how to fight, you say. But we do not fight. We wait. You tell us things that will make us win, but we do not fight. We wait. You hold us back. We ask ourselves why."

He straightened, obviously grabbing a big piece of Kali courage.

"There is an answer why. Perhaps you help other Gods than ours. Or--perhaps you are afraid."

There it was. Stark and ugly. Ward looked at Tahn for a long time, then straightened to his full five-eleven.

"As a God Helper I am charged with honesty at all times," he said, and let it sink in for a second.

"I see many more things than the surface of the sea and the direction of the wind. What I do for the Kali is for the good of the Kali. If you follow me, you go to victory. If you do not follow, you go to the bottom."

The Kali glared with glittering eyes. Tahn's cough was a bark.

"Perhaps some will follow."

Their parting salute was crisp as they spun and left.

Ward eased himself back to the chair and stared at the door. This was the ragged edge. They fight the one coming, or else.... And if they lost it, the Confederation could mark off the Kali, John Ward and the planet.

He remembered all too clearly the other engagements, if you would call them that. And he remembered too the disappointment, chagrin and outright anger of the Kali, and his own frustration.

* * * * *

Engagement One: Taley Point. They had surprised a small Grimnal force close in to shore on the leeward side. After trading shots at extreme range. Ward gave the order to withdraw. Reasons? Shallows, reefs, a raising wind, and nightfall. The Grimnal was gone in the morning. The Kali had been stunned. It was the first time they had ever withdrawn with whole ships.

Engagement Two: Gola Island. They had chased a smaller force into port, but Ward had held off because of intense shore fire. The Kali did not sing for three days.

Engagement Three: Bari Sea. They were closing with a nearly equal force, yet out of range, when a large wind devil, one of the freak, contrary winds, had slashed across both fleets; shredding sails, splintering masts, effectively crippling both forces. Ward gave the order to heave to and repair damages, as the Grimnal did the same. The Kali were astonished. Such a thought was madness with the enemy in sight. But they followed orders, and did not smile when he appeared any more.

Engagement Four: Darel Sea. (Oh, the Darel Sea!) They were closing at glider range when a lucky Grimnal had sneaked in and managed to fire bomb a first-liner. Without that ship they were greatly out-gunned and, leaving a frigate to take off the crew, they slipped off downwind. It was a near rebellion, but Tahn had held them. Then the wind came up, bringing the Grimnal force with it. And both the frigate and the burning first went down fighting. The Kali had cried, probably, Ward thought, more in admiration than in sadness.

And now, as a result of a vote of ships' captains, they were headed straight for the Grimnal's heart; and Ward wondered if he was anything more than a passenger. He knew he had been tactically right in each case, but the Kali knew he was morally wrong. So who had it, the head or the heart?

And what about this thing of being afraid? That hurt. He didn't believe he was afraid. Honestly, he really couldn't say. He had, as a fact, never fought a battle in his life.

* * * * *

He used to play a game in the scouts. What did they call it? Capture the Flag, or something like that. Each side had a hidden flag and the other tried to get it. He was always the planner. How'll we do it, John? And he would tell them, and keep away from the rough stuff, and they nearly always won.

But violence fascinated him as a spectator. Later his reading took him in that direction, and later still his studies. In the middle of his life he found he was one of the leading historical naval tacticians in the world. He started writing historical novels, under a pseudonym, of course, and soon became the world's authority.

Then someone blundered into Aqua.

For a couple hundred years the Terran Confederation and the United Peace Worlds had been at war. Not an open, honest, stand-up-and-get-it war; but an undercover, half ignored, let's-get-the-kids-to-fight war. A galaxywide game, played for planets, using local cultures. And always according to the rules. No new technologies. No new weapons. Use what you have at hand. Play it fair. Because if you do not, neither will we--and together we will eliminate the universe.

Aqua was a natural. It had a war already underway. Deep in the secretmost catacombs of Confederation Central a voice said: "Find a man who knows ancient naval tactics. Find a man who knows sailing. Find a man who knows combustion firearms. Find a man. Now!"

And the order went rattle-rattle, click-click, wink, blink ... and reached out and touched Doctor John Ward.

Although _Colonel_ Ward's training had filled three straight days, there was one thing they forgot to tell him--what do you think about, really, when someone fires a cannon in your face?

A knock came at the door. Ward rubbed his face back into an expression of awareness.

"Come."

Tahn entered briskly and strode to the opposite side of the table. His eyes held a level, challenging look.

"Gliders say there are Grimnal coming up behind us along the coast. About--uh--two hours distant."

"How many?"

"There are four firsts, five seconds, twelve frigates and some corvettes."

Ward patiently tapped the table.

"How many corvettes?"

"Twenty-three."

Ward was thoughtful for a moment.

"We still have them. But it still is not their whole force."

"We hit them?"

I'd better answer this one right, he told himself. They were now just below Pelo Break, about two hours from the Passage. There was about an hour of daylight left.

"After the sun dies," he said, avoiding the word "wait," "we will swing to meet this new force. If the wind holds straight and steady, we will come across to them like sharks in the night."

"Sharks?"

Ward grinned.

"A very savage deep sea fish of my world."

Tahn relaxed, and a twisted smile came over his narrow face.

"It will be a short fight," he said softly.

III

Aqua's sizzling sun was getting hazy as it settled behind lower Pelo Head, outlining the violent peaks like teeth in some savage jaw. Ward stood on the bridge of the first-liner, _Bad Weather_, and watched the fleet and the late returning gliders. He never failed to marvel at these ships--sleek, sea-flying catamarans, steady, tall and wonderously beautiful. Their twin hulls skimmed the seas with hardly a roll. Their speed was something you had to feel to believe.

He watched the second-liner. _South Bird_, come around to catch her glider.

Both soaring upwind, they aimed for an intersection. As they drew closer, two long booms with netting between were extended over the stern. Slowly they angled together. When it appeared that the glider would crash the bridge it pulled up, stalled and fell softly into the net.

He never failed to exhale a long breath after such a landing--catching, rather.

Launching was even more spectacular. The ship raced out on fast beam reach with its glider poised upwind on its two poles. Then a streaking corvette hissed up under the stern, swung slightly upwind, caught the braided stretch-line and actually yanked the glider aloft. Ward was quite sure it was something he never wanted to try.

The _Bad Weather_ was coming around now. He caught the white flash of her glider high downwind. Tahn came to stand by him, his quick, cat-like motions betraying his eagerness.

"They bring more news," he grinned. "The Grimnal in Anda Bay is starting to raise sail."

Ward frowned.

"They think to trap us between them. Perhaps they expect us to race into the Passage after dark."

Tahn coughed his pleased cough.

"But our--uh--tactics, is it? They are to keep out of the Passage?"

Ward smiled.

"For now. We fight them as two separate fights, not as one. We will overwhelm each in turn."

Tahn's cough was one of agreement.

"Yes," he breathed. "Just as long as we fight."

They turned to watch the glider make its long floating approach. It had dumped its spoilers and was losing altitude, when it suddenly climbed impossibly fast, spun completely around and exploded in a hundred pieces.

* * * * *

Tahn leaped to the rail, stared, then keened the Kali howl of alarm. Ward squinted downwind in puzzlement, then saw it--the seething, wild slice of a wind devil arcing toward the fleet.

Curling, lashing, faster than any ship, it bore down on them in a track of boiling foam. Other ships took up the cry. Knives flashed as sheets were cut and sails crashed down. Seamen ran aloft to furl the wild cloth. Some of the leading corvettes tried to turn and run out of the way, but the wind was too fast.

A corvette suddenly lifted her bows, flipped over backwards and slammed down like a thrown stone. A frigate lost her sails and masts in less than two seconds. Another corvette rose sideways on one hull, spun and broke in two. The wind shriek became deafening.

Another frigate lost its masts, lifted on its stern and fell back in an explosion of water. The first-liner, _Thunder_, lost its masts and rigging, put its bows down as if stepped on, spun a full ninety degrees and finally relaxed. A corvette went tumbling end over end into the side of a second liner, which immediately lost its masts and half its bridge. A corvette went streaking out of the fleet at blinding speed, one hull hiked entirely out of the water, and disappeared in a wall of spray.

It was abruptly silent.

The foaming wind track left the fleet and slashed toward the open sea. With a soft flutter, then a breeze, the westerly quietly resumed its push. The Kali appeared on deck again and slowly gazed about them. And the fleet lay dead in the water.

Ships lay heading in all directions. Wreckage, lines and bits of sail littered the water. A frigate lay listed hard over. Damage reports were coming in to the _Bad Weather_: the _Thunder_ dismasted and leaking; another first dismasted; one second leaking badly, perhaps going down; three other seconds dismasted; one frigate sinking fast; two more dismasted and leaking; two more dismasted; six corvettes lost; four dismasted and damaged.

Tahn was grim as he scratched marks on a slate. Twenty-one ships out of action in less than a minute. Ward cursed and slammed the rail. Damned planet! Damned Grimnal! Damned everything! Tahn coughed beside him. _And_ damned coughing!

"There is more news," Tahn said quietly. "We just fished out a glider flyer who had returned from cruising Pelo Head."

Ward turned. There seemed to be a smile flickering on Tahn's swarthy face.

"He says there is a great Grimnal force coming into the Break from the north. Sixteen firsts, eighteen seconds and ten frigates. There are no corvettes."

Ward's whole body seemed to tighten. Thanks to a damned wind the trap was sprung.

"Can they come through the Break?" he asked, more to stall for time than gain information. Tahn coughed three times.

"It is a brave thing to do. Even for Kali it would be brave. It is bad water in the Break. The wind goes up; the current comes down. It is slow, but it can be done."

"How slow?"

* * * * *

Tahn tilted his head, stared at where the slice of the Break was barely visible on the horizon, and shrugged, almost.

"Maybe--uh--two hours. Maybe more." He coughed. "Maybe less."

Ward glared at the crippled ships.

"And they would try it at night?"

Tahn coughed assent.

"There will be a good moon. I would try it."

Damn. Forces from three sides that, united, would blow them right out of the water. They could meet any of them alone, but....

"If we could slip south," he pondered aloud, "we could--"

Tahn snarled, his face an unearthly mask in the dimming light. His breath whistled between his teeth.

"You _polasti_!" he hissed. Ward straightened and faced him. The Kali around froze in their tracks. _Polasti_ was the foulest word in their language.