There's a story as to how this chapter was written before there was a concept of the book:
Chapter 1
Hunting is a skill that many people wish to acquire but never attain. They seem to concentrate on the actual kill rather than the chase. Pringle and Parker were attachés of the Albion government. “Mr. Pascal” was recommended to them as a guide who knew the best places to find prey and he was multilingual. “Mr. Pascal” was Pascal Adam Scintilla. His real name was Adam Scintilla. Pascal was a nickname given to him in an orphanage-monastery by the monks who enjoyed the company of this youth of uncommon cleverness and gift of gab. His fate was intertwined with the monks who raised and trained him and he accepted this nickname as a badge of honor.
In truth, fate was something in which Pascal did not take stock or believe in. He thought that chance and effort combined to make a person’s future. Presented with chance, he believed that effort was required to take advantage of it. Through effort sometimes chance became visible to seize.
So it was chance that Pringle and Parker looked him up to lead them through the forest looking for their prey. The prey was a deer. They both rather enjoyed traipsing through the woods and shooting at fast moving animals. Pascal thought they were tolerable fools, but he was enough of a player to understand that with a bit of effort he could parlay this relationship with them to his advantage.
Pascal spoke seven languages fluently and idiomatically. Well, six fluently and idiomatically. He struggled with an accent in the local Barabreen. In both Barabreen and the Naerian language there were two sounds, a “g” like esophageal sound, and a “k” like sound that was a sound one could make removing the phlegm from one’s throat. In Barabreen, there was unfortunately for him a third sound, more of a guttural hiss, that he never mastered. It was the one way the locals knew he was different.
He was different...he was educated. The Barabreen respected him as a peacemaker, an impartial judge to their many grievances. Since he was not one of them, he had no stake in whose claim was stronger. Calling him “Mr. Pascal” was the deference they used with him. He was no doubt an infidel in their judgement, and yet he was strangely superior to them in their eyes.
Pascal took Pringle and Parker into the woods for the morning. This was the best time to catch the deer as they had emptied their bellies and were spending time concentrating on eating. He saw several deer that the two men did not notice. He had to make the hunt slightly time consuming so that it was worth their time. Nothing more boring than an easy hunt.
A real prince was off in the distance. Pascal saw it first, of course. He stopped to peer in that direction. Parker came over and saw Pascal’s hesitation. He looked in the same direction and saw his victim. He immediately raised his shotgun and Pascal grabbed his elbow gently and whispered, “Mr. Parker, you are 100 yards from that animal, if you shoot now you’ll wound a tree and scare a deer.”
Pascal was quite proud of this shotguns. They could be very lethal against a prey at close range as the many projectiles cause multiple penetrations in a small area. Pascal used large pellets which carried enough kinetic energy to be lethal at about 40 yards and Pascal had custom built his weapons to increase accuracy over that range by giving them a slightly longer than normal barrels.
Pringle caught up to them at this point. He was a tall, gangly man and moving through the woods with all the low branches was more effort for him than for Parker or for Pascal (who was barely 5’6”). The deer had not noticed them. Pringle said, “ So, gentlemen, have we a victim?”
“Possibly, Mr. Pringle, but we need to move closer. Please stay together as I do not want us to accidentally shoot each other”
“Mr. Pascal,” said Parker, “I was a carabinieri in the Queen’s forces, and I would never shoot my own troops.”
“Typical,” thought Pascal. “Nevertheless Mr. Parker, humor me by staying close as you have asked me to be your guide”
Parker said nothing but was concentrating on the deer. Pringle was now crouching next to them as best as he could. They moved slowly forward, about 10 paces apart. The deer was chewing on a leafy branch of some shrub enjoying what might be his last meal.
When they had reached about 25 yards, Pascal signaled to the two men. Pringle gestured to defer to Parker to allow him a chance at this point. He raised his shotgun and fired. The deer dropped his rear legs and struggled to run. Pringle waited what seemed an eternity to Pascal and then took his shot and the deer went down. The two men smiled at each other. “Why thank you Mr. Pascal, this was a success”
Pascal replied, “Good job, gentlemen! Let’s take it back.” Thinking to himself, “Two shots? With a hesitation in between? What was he waiting for? Barbarians.”
They proceeded back to the town with their fallen prey as their prize. Pascal tolerated these men because they were useful to the town. They had set up a communications tower in the town which could signal back to Freeport if there was any trouble by the local insurgents as well as several other improvements. He hoped they could be useful to him in other ways, like getting him off this planet.
Chapter 1
Hunting is a skill that many people wish to acquire but never attain. They seem to concentrate on the actual kill rather than the chase. Pringle and Parker were attachés of the Albion government. “Mr. Pascal” was recommended to them as a guide who knew the best places to find prey and he was multilingual. “Mr. Pascal” was Pascal Adam Scintilla. His real name was Adam Scintilla. Pascal was a nickname given to him in an orphanage-monastery by the monks who enjoyed the company of this youth of uncommon cleverness and gift of gab. His fate was intertwined with the monks who raised and trained him and he accepted this nickname as a badge of honor.
In truth, fate was something in which Pascal did not take stock or believe in. He thought that chance and effort combined to make a person’s future. Presented with chance, he believed that effort was required to take advantage of it. Through effort sometimes chance became visible to seize.
So it was chance that Pringle and Parker looked him up to lead them through the forest looking for their prey. The prey was a deer. They both rather enjoyed traipsing through the woods and shooting at fast moving animals. Pascal thought they were tolerable fools, but he was enough of a player to understand that with a bit of effort he could parlay this relationship with them to his advantage.
Pascal spoke seven languages fluently and idiomatically. Well, six fluently and idiomatically. He struggled with an accent in the local Barabreen. In both Barabreen and the Naerian language there were two sounds, a “g” like esophageal sound, and a “k” like sound that was a sound one could make removing the phlegm from one’s throat. In Barabreen, there was unfortunately for him a third sound, more of a guttural hiss, that he never mastered. It was the one way the locals knew he was different.
He was different...he was educated. The Barabreen respected him as a peacemaker, an impartial judge to their many grievances. Since he was not one of them, he had no stake in whose claim was stronger. Calling him “Mr. Pascal” was the deference they used with him. He was no doubt an infidel in their judgement, and yet he was strangely superior to them in their eyes.
Pascal took Pringle and Parker into the woods for the morning. This was the best time to catch the deer as they had emptied their bellies and were spending time concentrating on eating. He saw several deer that the two men did not notice. He had to make the hunt slightly time consuming so that it was worth their time. Nothing more boring than an easy hunt.
A real prince was off in the distance. Pascal saw it first, of course. He stopped to peer in that direction. Parker came over and saw Pascal’s hesitation. He looked in the same direction and saw his victim. He immediately raised his shotgun and Pascal grabbed his elbow gently and whispered, “Mr. Parker, you are 100 yards from that animal, if you shoot now you’ll wound a tree and scare a deer.”
Pascal was quite proud of this shotguns. They could be very lethal against a prey at close range as the many projectiles cause multiple penetrations in a small area. Pascal used large pellets which carried enough kinetic energy to be lethal at about 40 yards and Pascal had custom built his weapons to increase accuracy over that range by giving them a slightly longer than normal barrels.
Pringle caught up to them at this point. He was a tall, gangly man and moving through the woods with all the low branches was more effort for him than for Parker or for Pascal (who was barely 5’6”). The deer had not noticed them. Pringle said, “ So, gentlemen, have we a victim?”
“Possibly, Mr. Pringle, but we need to move closer. Please stay together as I do not want us to accidentally shoot each other”
“Mr. Pascal,” said Parker, “I was a carabinieri in the Queen’s forces, and I would never shoot my own troops.”
“Typical,” thought Pascal. “Nevertheless Mr. Parker, humor me by staying close as you have asked me to be your guide”
Parker said nothing but was concentrating on the deer. Pringle was now crouching next to them as best as he could. They moved slowly forward, about 10 paces apart. The deer was chewing on a leafy branch of some shrub enjoying what might be his last meal.
When they had reached about 25 yards, Pascal signaled to the two men. Pringle gestured to defer to Parker to allow him a chance at this point. He raised his shotgun and fired. The deer dropped his rear legs and struggled to run. Pringle waited what seemed an eternity to Pascal and then took his shot and the deer went down. The two men smiled at each other. “Why thank you Mr. Pascal, this was a success”
Pascal replied, “Good job, gentlemen! Let’s take it back.” Thinking to himself, “Two shots? With a hesitation in between? What was he waiting for? Barbarians.”
They proceeded back to the town with their fallen prey as their prize. Pascal tolerated these men because they were useful to the town. They had set up a communications tower in the town which could signal back to Freeport if there was any trouble by the local insurgents as well as several other improvements. He hoped they could be useful to him in other ways, like getting him off this planet.