Pathspace: The Space of Paths (10 page)

The Honcho's eyes narrowed. “Sometimes your
cynicism is only matched by your foolishness,” he snapped. “What
you say is true, but
irrelevant
. The majority of the public
hasn't had your expensive education, your private tutors, or your
access to ancient records. What they believe isn't based on the
truth. It's based on what they know, or think they know. “ He could
hear the rising temper in his voice and took a moment to sigh and
calm himself. “It has been generations since the Fall happened.
None of them has ever seen a functioning refrigerator, a light
bulb, an electric stove, or any other device of the Ancients. All
they have, instead, are the odd coldbox, everflame, or glow-tube,
slowly dying. That, and the old stories.”

“Told by the priests – as moral lessons,”
his son spat. “By the flunkies of the old fraud we are on our way
to kowtow to.”

Peter managed not to slap him. Managed only
because of two reasons. First, because it would be taken as a sign
of weakness if he let the boy provoke him into losing control – and
he wouldn't give the Runt the pleasure of thinking he was slipping.
Your promotion is a long ways away, you senseless idler!
But
the main reason, at the moment, was that they at that very instant
pulling into the papal compound. If he struck the lad as he
deserved for that crack, it would likely leave a mark – and he'd be
damned if he'd show the Pontiff the slightest sign of division in
their ranks.

“We are not
kowtowing
,” he hissed.
“The Church is an effective tool of statecraft. If you paid
attention to your history tutor you'd know that by now. We don't
have to believe in it, in order to use it. And we don't have to
suffer the kind of trouble he could cause for us, if nothing more
than a show of respect and courtesy will prevent it.”

“Or a crossbow at short range.” Jeffrey
grimaced. “It's not prayer that makes crops grow or herds
increase.” Seeing Peter's expression, he held up his hands. “Oh,
all right, I'll make nice for the sake of the Empire. I'll pretend
a respect that I'll never have.”

How did I raise such an insolent
fool?
It was a question he asked himself often, and he asked it
yet again while they sat in the Pontiff's outer room. Could I have
been that bad before my own promotion, when I was the Runt?

The problem was, he actually agreed with the
boy on many points. In a country poised for greatness, the Church
contributed little and consumed much. Every bit of coin or
hempscript dropped into the coffers of the Texan Catholic Church
was money that could have gone to finance his growing army. And
unlike other enterprises in his empire, the TCC paid no taxes on
its incomes or properties, a convention as inconvenient as it was
ancient.

Still, they were needed, at least for the
short term. People had to have something to believe in. Naturally,
he wished that he were that something, but even he had to admit
that the Honcho could not make it rain or ward off sickness. Some
of the old stories said the Ancient had controlled the weather.
Well, that ability was long gone. Mankind was once again at the
mercy of the vagaries of Fate, and until he could offer a viable
alternative to their comforting belief in a benevolent Creator
watching over them, he was not going to make life harder by trying
to take that away from his people.

But what about Jeffrey? Could he make him
understand before the idiot inherited the throne? Eventually, the
growth of the Lone Star Empire would put them up against the Dixie
Emirates. Even if he succeeded in fielding a mechanized army, the
Church could come in handy then. A holy war would play out far
better in the farms and cottages of the commoners than the mere
continuation of the expansionist agenda. With a provoked incident
here, and a widely publicized outrage there, they might even
volunteer for it and make conscription unnecessary.

By the time they were admitted into the
presence of the Pontiff Jeffrey felt like screaming. It was never
easy spending time with the Honcho, and even less so when his
father was in the mood to teach him.
I've read the books. I know
some of the roles the Church has played in history.
Constantine, also, thought he could tame the
Church for his own uses. But he was wrong. When they became the
official religion of the Roman Empire, they ended persecution of
Christians … and immediately set about the persecution of both
older religions and younger cults.
My father, led my the
example of his father, is making the same mistake as
Constantine.

But I shall not repeat his mistake, or
continue it, when I am Honcho.

When the chamberlain entered the waiting
room, he stood, without waiting for his father to do the same. He
could see that the official was amused by this sign of youthful
rebellion.

“
His Holiness will see you
now.”

Following his father into the audience
chamber, he was amused to see that the Holy Father's minion had
crafted him a papal throne, with a short row of lower chairs
arranged in front of it. He could see the Honcho's eyes narrow at
this, at the way the head of the TCC put him at a disadvantage –
from the seats provided, they would be looking up at he who filled
the shoes of the Fisherman. Jeffrey wondered how his father would
make reply to this without drawing attention to it.

He did not have wait long for his answer. As
they approached, His Holiness Pope Rodrigo, the Second of that
name, did not stand; he was not a tall man, and it would not have
contributed much to the effect his raised throne had already
established. This was especially so because he was also not a thin
man. He smiled innocently at them and raised his hand, extended his
ring to be kissed.

The Honcho replied with just as innocent a
smile, but reached forward and shook the Pontiff's hand.

Jeffrey stifled the urge
to laugh out loud. The message had been delivered!
We are
not your flunkies.
His Holiness's mask of
cordiality slipped for just a second, as his eyes flashed with
anger, then just as suddenly it was back in place, his smile broad,
if a trifle forced. “We are always pleased to greet you, Your
Excellency. Please be seated.”

Without that “please”,
thought Jeffrey, I would have ignored him, and remained upright. He
waited for his father to seat himself, then settled himself in the
chair to the right of him.
No disunity, but a united
front. I am his right-hand man. As far as
you
know, “Holiness”.

“
Now then, your
Excellency,” the man on the throne continued, “to what do We owe
the pleasure of this visit?”

The Honcho eyed him, “I suspect that you
already know,” he said. “But in case your spies are less efficient
than I thought, or haven't reported to you yet, I'll summarize. I'm
planning a major offensive to expand the Empire, using some
vehicles and weapons of the Ancients discovered in an buried
Armory.”

The Pontiff blinked. “Is this a change in
policy – consulting with Us on matters of military strategy?”

“
No,” said Peter.
“Unfortunately, we do not have any fuel for the motorized vehicles.
My technicians assure me that they have adequate information to
distill sufficient fuel from the crude oil available in the old
wells, but there is a catch.”

“
Word had reached me about
the Armory you discovered,” Pope Rodrigo admitted. “But my
operatives thought that there would be fuel stored along with the
vehicles, as undoubtedly there is ammunition for the weapons.” He
gazed at nothing for a moment. “You mentioned a catch. Let me see.
You have the vehicles, and you have the old oil wells, and plans to
distill usable fuel from the crude oil. So the question must be how
to get the oil out of them. I've heard that there used to be wells
called 'gushers' in the old days that literally spewed oil out of
the ground when breached by a drill. I take it that you do not have
any of those left?”

“
None. We'll have to pump
it out by force.”

Now His Holiness appeared to be confused.
“But pumps are simple. Our monks use them all the time to get well
water for drinking, cooking and watering crops.”

“
We will need a lot of
crude oil to make our fuel,” the Honcho told him. “And it is deep
underground. Hand pumps won't do the job. We could devise
rotary-operated pumps driven by teams of oxen, but they'd take
forever to bring up the quantity required.”

The Pontiff absorbed that. “How did the
Ancients solve this problem?” he asked.

“
Machine pumps. But even
if we could build them, they'd be useless.”

The heir of Saint Peter lifted his eyebrows.
“Why?”

“
Because they'd need a
power source, either the same fuel we don't have and are trying to
make…or the tamed lightning of the Ancients that we don't have
anymore. There appears to be no conventional solution. We're going
to have to think outside the box.”

The ecclesiastical eyes narrowed at that.
“Now I begin to understand. No conventional solution, but you have
thought of an unconventional one. One that you know will upset Us,
or you would not be here today.”

“
Correct. “We're going to
have to use
swizzles
and
everflames
. I know the Church is dead
against any official use of the Gifts of the Tourists, but in this
case – “

Rodrigo held up a finger,
interrupting him. “Hold on. I see why you want to use
swizzles
, but why the
everflames
too?”

“
Once we get the oil out
of the ground, we need to heat it up and distill gasoline and
diesel fuel out of it. The scale of what I'm planning would require
so much firewood that it would seriously hamper our ability to
build on the conquered lands for lack of lumber, if we burned that
wood to make fire instead.”

“
Couldn't you just trade
with other countries for coal? You could burn that
instead.”

“
Not a good idea,
Holiness. They're not dumb. They'd wonder what I need all that
extra coal for. Once the army moves out and they understand, trade
will grind to a halt. Once we locate and take possession of the
coal mines, of course, we can use coal-fired heating for the
refineries from then on. But in the short term – “

“ –
you will need the
short cut of the everflames. I see.” The Pontiff rested his chin in
a palm, reflecting on this. “We have a long-standing ban on the use
of the Gifts,” he reminded them. “The use of this sorcery from the
demon 'Tourists' is what led to the downfall of the Ancients and
all their marvels, as you well know. We are still paying penance
for it, even after all this time.”

“
I won't argue theology
with you. I agree with the Church's position, you know that. The
only way to rebuild civilization is the hard way – the way it was
done before.” Peter leaned back in his chair. “But political
unification has to come first, or we'll spend the next thousand
years slowly advancing, while fighting little wars with increasing
death tolls from better weapons. We can't let that
happen.”

It was a nice speech
, Jeffrey thought.
But you left out a key part,
father. The real reason you're in such a hurry is you want it to
happen in your own lifetime. So that you can rule it all.

“
Why not?” asked His
Holiness. “I mean, granted, the loss of life would be be
regrettable
, but it worked that way the
first time. Maybe God wants us to do it the same way – the hard way
– to show we've learned from our mistakes.”

“
I don't think so,” said
the Honcho. “And I'll tell you why. God knows something that you
might not have considered, and He knows we have to progress faster
this time.”

Pope Rodrigo regarded him, amusement plain
on his face. “Has He told you something he has kept secret from Us?
That would seem unlikely.”

“
No, I've just thought
about it more than you have. The Tourists could come back. Or
others could follow in their footsteps. For all we know, they may
have told others about Earth, and put us on the celestial map for
everyone out there. We have to be ready for them.”

The Pontiff's eyes grew wider. “You're
right. I hadn't thought of that.” He was silent for a minute. “If
God let them come once, He may do so again, if He decides we need
further punishment. We have been thinking of the past, and not the
future.”

He drummed his fingers on the armrest of the
papal throne. “It would be…awkward to make an official announcement
that Our policy has changed. We would have to give reasons, reasons
that could stir up unrest among the faithful.”

Peter nodded. “I know that. You don't have
to say anything, provided we come to an agreement about this
between ourselves. I won't flaunt your ban publicly, and you won't
have to condemn what the government is doing … publicly.”

Pope Rodrigo nodded. “It sounds workable.
Nothing written down, of course.”

Of course,
thought
the Runt.
So you can deny knowing when it finally
surfaces.

“
That brings up another
issue,” said the Honcho. “Does the Church have any
confiscated
swizzles
or
everflames
that we could … borrow? The
more we have the sooner we can begin expanding the territory of my
Empire and your Flock.”