My Big Goblin Space Program

Chapter 8 - Of Our World

“You really don’t want anything in trade for this information?” I asked. “They say knowledge is power.”

“Ah,” said Rufus. “But a question is an answer. You cannot take without first giving. I have a skill that tells me if your question is genuine or meant to mislead.”

That was some Philosophy 101 stuff right there, but he was right. Every question I asked revealed my ignorance of something. And when I started asking of things of which I should have no knowledge, which I intended to, well that would reveal something else entirely. If he was telling the truth about that skill, it told me two things: other people had access to this world’s skill system, and I should definitely not lie to Rufus in case he had other skills to separate truth from falsehoods. I decided to start small.

“What’s the name of this world?

“Rava,” said Rufus. He nibbled at the sloth haunch and withdrew a small brick from his satchel. He rooted around for a moment, but I handed him a stone knife and he used it to scrape what I presumed was salt onto the meat. “That’s what the dwarves—my people—call it.”

“You’re a dwarf?” I asked.

“Wilds-marked. Fae-touched, if you prefer. The sign of the wanderer. But yes, my countenance is that of a beast—though I am not one, unless you get a few more of these in me,” he lofted his bottle. “We come and go as we‘re driven by whim, one foot in the wilds and one in civilization. We’re seen as lucky, by some, oddities to others.”

“You mentioned dwarves before. You also mentioned humans.”

Rufus nodded. “They call the world Enclova, which translates to Skyclad. You see, they only view the world as the surface. The dwarven word, Rava, acknowledges the world below, as well as above. But you should hear what the orcs call it.”

“What do the orcs call it?”

“Kelembog. It means ‘to be trampled beneath our feet.’” he nudged me with an elbow. “Tells you all you need to know about orcs, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does.” I had little desire to meet one. I watched as the fire popped and fizzled, considering how to phrase the important questions. And then just decided to go for broke.

“Are there computers in Enclova?”

Rufus tilted his head down. “Computers? Those who practice arithmetic and figures?”

I waved my hand in a circle. “Not people, things. You might call them thinking machines, or logic engines.”

“If there are, they are surely the demesne of wizards, who are not to be trifled with.”

I nodded. I had less desire to meet a real wizard than I did to meet an orc. “What about internal combustion engines?”

Rufus’ furry brows climbed. “My word, what a horrific thought!”

“No, no,” I said. “It’s a way to turn heat and pressure into motion using fuel that burns rapidly. It can be used to turn a wheel, or move a plow, or even push a ship without masts or sails.”

“In all my travels, I’ve not heard of such a thing,” said Rufus. He tapped his lips with a claw. “Though I once saw an eastern contraption that used the steam from boiled water to spin a puppet.”

“So, steam power?”

“I suppose that would be one term for it, yes. I have seen artifices of wound spring, as well.”

“Clockwork?”

“Clocks were the least of it.”

This was not entirely unexpected. All indications pointed to this being a pre-industrial land. “How about flying machines?”

“How hard can you throw?” laughed Rufus. “Apollo, if the Gods want a person to fly, they mark him with wings."

“What shape is the world?” I asked next.

Rufus pointed to the prodigious moon. “The same shape as Raphina. As round as a pot-belly.”

Raphina. My final destination. Fine, I knew about a few technologies already, like glass grinding and ship-building. There were a few others that might become important. “Firearms, grenades, cannons, and explosive powder?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of such things, except for a trip across the sea where I watched a powder that burned swiftly and in strange colors.” Rufus made a show of thumbing through his journal. “It seems as though I should be the one asking you questions. I am not living up to my end of the bargain, I fear you will feel.”

“No,” I said. “It’s important to determine what means and methods are available, as well as what aren’t. The land is called Rava, but where are we now?”

Rufus flipped through his journal to a rough sketch of an island. Though, since I couldn’t tell the scale, I couldn’t say whether it was the size of Hawaii or Australia. “Lanclova,” said Rufus. “Shadow-clad. The untamed land under Raphina’s watchful eye. Many nations have laid claim because there are fortunes to be made here. Natural treasures, remarkable plants, new knowledge, strange natives, and fantastic creatures abound. Its enticing mysteries are eclipsed only by its myriad dangers. Few are equipped to penetrate its depths."

Definitely Australia, then. Or, at least, this world’s version of it. “But you can?”

“Badger,” he said, as though that should be explanation enough. “Allow me a question, as well. How do you know of sciences that have not yet come to pass?” asked Rufus.

“Like I said,” somewhat dishonestly, “I was born with the knowledge of many things. Much of what I’ve just mentioned I will eventually build. But, to do that, I’ll need time and tools.”

Rufus laughed and slapped me on the back. “You will build a machine that flies through the air? I do not mean to sound rude, o’ king. I am sure you believe it. But you are sounding quite like a wizard yourself, with these claims. And even goblin kings cannot work magics.”

“Your doubt is fair,” I admitted, looking at the village. A small sleeping mound had already formed from the goblins who took their sloth rare. The rest were waiting for dinner and working, since my technology skill had passed them the benefits of cooked meat. We were slicing it off a bit at a time as the exterior cooked, like shawarma. There was no way my tribe would have the patience to wait for the whole thing to roast through. "But I claim that not only will I fly through the air, I'll stand upon the surface of Raphina."

"A bold claim, indeed!"

I whistled for two of my goblins and pointed to the carcass. “Bring me the claws.”

They moved to obey, and went to work sawing and pulling until they’d worked the large, hooked claws out. They brought them to me. I held them up to Rufus. “What do you see when you look at these?”

Rufus took one and examined it. He applied twist and flexed it to check its strength and handed it back. “Sturdy. Flexible. Light. Perhaps it would make a good knife.”

“Let’s make a wager, Rufus. You’re a trader, yes? Return in a week or two with some essentials to trade. If you’re not convinced, I can do what I said at that time then I will answer any question you have about high technology and where my knowledge comes from and give you anything within my meager power to give.”

“And if I should lose this wager?”

“A brick of that salt would go a long way, and perhaps some jeweler’s tools.”

Rufus scraped his claws across his furry chin. “Jeweler’s tools. You’re not wanting to set gemstones, I am thinking. Very well. I’ll make a trip to Habberport, five days northwest of here at the coast—that is the port of a human king’s expedition. In 10 days’ time, I’ll return and see the truth of your words. Or not.” He raised one eyebrow. “You know, I could always lie and say I’m not impressed, even if I am. This is not a good bargain for you.”

“I don’t think you’re the type to do such a thing,” I said. “But even if you are, perhaps in 10 day’s time, the reappearance of a friendly face would be worth it on its own.”

“It’s lonely at the top,” said Rufus. He gestured around. “Metaphorically and vertically.”

He pushed himself off his haunches and dusted off. “Well, if I’m to return in 10 days, I should walk through the night. I suppose I’ll take my leave.”

“You don’t want to stay and rest?” I asked.

Rufus offered a sheepish grin. “Perhaps I’m not ready to trust the rest of your tribe. Not yet. But badgers are nocturnal, didn’t you know?”

“I did not,” I admitted.

“Aha! perhaps there are some things I know that you do not, after all!” He looked up at the sky through his spectacles. “You’d do well to learn of the day and the night in Lanclova. Each holds its own danger.”

I called for my litter-bearers, since I hadn’t had time to repair my legs. The north-facing slope was shallower, but still too steep to descend unassisted. I called over for some cordage and was only slightly surprised when the two goblins on either end of the line careened over the side, snagging a tree behind them. If goblins could blush, I probably would have had the reddest face watching Rufus record what he saw in that leather-bound journal. The two goblins reached the end of the line, and rather than letting go, they swung inward and collided with each other.

Oh my stars. How was that a technology? But as soon as I thought about it, I realized the applications were nearly endless. Goblins were natural climbers, and what was weight at the top of a bluff if not a bucket of potential energy waiting to be utilized? They were certainly willing enough to hurl themselves off of it at the slightest excuse.

But that would have to wait for another day. Rufus took the rope in his hand and eased himself down the slope. The goblins at the bottom switched to one of the lines, and since Rufus outweighed both of them, he was able to slide down while the Goblins rode the line back up, grinning and hooting. The badger-dwarf waved when he reached the bottom, and I waved back along with the two counterweights.

Once my newest friend was out of eyesight, I returned to the village. 10 days. There was a lot of work to be done. But first, the tribe had eaten, and lethargy was starting to take over.