We now have a workable plan, said Center. It is time to risk discovery by Zentrum. It is time to introduce the innovation you and Golitsin have been preparing.
So, he was finally going to see in reality what had only been an idea placed in his mind for years.
Converting regular army rifles to breech fire will not be necessary, said Center. No, only one military component need receive the innovation.
“Delta gum,” Golitsin said. “It is the most amazing substance!”
“You mean the nasty stuff the Delta men chew instead of nesh?”
“Exactly. We’ve solved the blowback problem with it.”
“I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
“I’ll do you one better than that,” said Golitsin. “You can
He showed Abel the prototype.
He half cocked the hammer to safe in order to slide back the breech dog, the heavy covering that kept the trapdoor opening fully shut during firing. Then he fingered the little hook and latch lever he’d created and popped the top of the breechlock up. It did look like a trapdoor, swinging on a hinge open upward and toward the muzzle of the rifle. He pulled the breech piston back and showed Abel his latest innovation. “See how I’ve made a round, flat piece out of the Delta gum, but left a hole in it so the hammer can strike the percussion cap?”
The ancient term for such an object was a “rubber washer,” Center said.
“That stops the back-gassing problem we were having,” Golitsin went on. “Forms a tight seal, like beeswax, but won’t melt and is reusable. Well, reusable to a point. Until I can perfect the formula, those gum pieces will need to be replaced ever twenty or thirty rounds. But if you look at the rear of that stock…”
Abel turned the rifle over in his hands and saw a small sliding wood door intricately set into the wood of the rifle butt. He pushed it aside to reveal a small compartment.
“Spare parts and cleaning kit go there,” said Golitsin. “We’ll put five of these washers in every gun to start with.”
“Nice.”
“Now, I know we were talking about an ejection device for the spent caps, but I haven’t had time to do that yet. The chamber will have to be cleared by hand. They’ll probably get it down to the flick of a thumb, or hooking a finger inside to pop it out.”
“What about papyrus residue?” asked Abel. “We were getting fouling on the tests before.”
Golitsin chuckled. “Solved that, too,” he said. “I got some of those lucifers you Scouts always seem to be carrying against Stasis, and figured out how they’re made. I used some of the same essence of sulfur in a liquid goop I cooked up to soak the paper. Then I let it dry and, bang, you have cartridge paper that burns completely up, leaves as fine an ash as you could wish for.”
“Which brings me to the cartridges.”
“You’ll have to see this to believe it,” Golitsin said. He rose and indicated that Abel should follow him out. The pounding and scalding cacophony of the smithery reached their ears full force. He ushered Abel into the rear of the complex with its final assembly stations. “We’re turning out five hundred a day. We have a built stockpile of five thousand. And we’re getting faster at it.”
Golitsin reached into a wicker basket and picked up four of the paper cartridges, about all his hand could hold. Each was about as big around and as long as a regular-sized man’s thumb.
Equivalent to forty-five caliber, eight-five grain cartridges, Center said. Impressive.
The construction was simple. On one end was a standard percussion cap of the sort that all muskets used. Glued to this using standard dakhoof glue was a cylinder of about a thumbnail in length. The cylinder was made of thinly peeled rolled papyrus, and was a pale yellow in color. Inside, the paper cylinder was two-thirds filled with gunpowder. On top of that, a lead two-ridge minie ball was fitted and attached with a dab of wax where bullet met paper casing.
With what? said Center. Your society’s metallurgy skills are barely good enough to create the breech lock mechanism. The large-scale production of copper casing is beyond your existing technological base for the time being. That will change rapidly after successful deployment of these cartridges. For the moment, paper will have to do. It will prove effective if deployed correctly. In ancient times, paper cartridges were extremely effective in the Chassepot needleshot breechloaders of old Earth, and elsewhere. And the fact remains that we simply do not have appreciable supplies of metal to work with.
It will certainly have a longer range, Center answered.
“How much more time do you need?”
“Two days to change out the washers,” said Golitsin. “Then we’ll have two hundred rifles ready in addition to the two hundred your Scouts already have.”
“Make it tomorrow,” Abel said. “Keep at it all night if you have to. I’ll bring the wagon at midmorning to pick them up.”
“The Blaskoye must be at Garangipore by now,” Golitsin said, shaking his head.
“Yes,” Abel replied. “We’re getting reports. It’s not pretty.”
“You’ll have your rifles,” Golitsin said. “Come at dawn.”
All the Scouts had fired at least five practice rounds with the breechloaders. All were drilled weekly on its operation. Only the first two hundred carried the weapons every day, however. They had practiced extensively with their weapons and had been given ample ammunition with which to drill and fire at targets.
They had developed a method of holding cartridges-someone said it had been developed by Maday, or at least by a man in Maday’s squad-between the fingers of their stock hand, usually their left hand, so that three cartridges protruded out. This way they could fire four rounds in rapid succession, with no fumbling in a cartridge box for replacements.
Abel, who had known to expect good things, was stunned at the rate of fire they achieved. He counted it off, just to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him. A shot every two heartbeats. The men with rifles were able to undog the bolt, slide it back, clear the spent cap (the cartridge paper had burned up in the barrel and was no more), load another paper cartridge, slide the bolt closed, take aim, and fire. What was more, they were perfectly able to do it from a prone position as well-something that was impossible when reloading via the muzzle of a musket.
And when Abel checked the targets, he could see that the accuracy was there, as good as ever. It was phenomenal. At least in theory, it was like having five more muskets in ranks, stepping forward one after another, and firing.
Joab was on dontback when Abel found him on the muster field to the west of Hestinga. To the north lay the lake, a blue-green expanse that was the biggest stretch of water in the Valley. Abel wondered how the sea would compare. Perhaps one day he would find out. Abel rode up beside Joab and hailed his father.
