by Isaac Stone
The two marines pulled back the levers on the machine guns, but never had a chance to squeeze the triggers. The four troopers when down seconds apart. Four shots rang out from the top of a building and four bodies hit the ground.
“Jacobites,” Shamsana said to her companion. He nodded and ran with her to the nearest open door.
“Wrong,” Sir Nagashi said to himself as they cleared out. “Just me here.” He stood on the edge of the precipice that looked down into the street.
He reloaded his rifle and shook his head.Machine guns. A peasant weapon if there ever was one. It killed too many people at once and took little skill to master.
“I think he’s gone,” Krodha said to Shamsana a few minutes later. He was at the edge of a window and watched the top of the building where the gunfire had come.
“How do you know?” she asked, her braid trailing down her back.
“I don’t,” he replied, but think about it. Why would a Jacobite knight stay around and waste his time with the two of us when there are better targets out there? He’ll want to use his ammunition where it can do the most damage. I’m guessing he’s working his way toward where the main body of the Synarchists is camped.” He stepped out of the door and looked up.
There were no further bullets from the top. Shamsana took a chance and stepped out with him, but stayed close to the door. The knight might be waiting for them to show, but it was quiet.
“This is the part where he shoots us both,” she said to companion. Shamsana stayed in the shadow of the building. It was almost dark and the shadows were very long.
“No, I think he’d gone this time,” Krodha said to her. “We need to finish our scavenging and get back to the post.”
“Maybe we should return to the post now,” she told him. “I think the commander will want to know about these bodies.”
“What? Dead bodies in a war zone? It can wait. She’ll want to know about the Jacobite, but the rest isn’t that big of a concern.” His boots crunched some broke masonry as Krodha walked away from the building in search of somewhere where more supplies might be located.
He froze when he saw the lone figure that moved down the middle of the street. His machine gun came up in half a second.
Shamsana saw the movement and ran to his side. If there was another threat, she needed to be with him to stop it. Her gun was slung over her shoulder, but she slipped her arm out of the strap and had it into f firing position in a second.
The figure walked to them slowly. Krodha released his finger from the trigger when it realized this had to be a local woman. She was in a daze, not too much of a surprise given their location. His companion saw her. She squinted her eyes to get a better look at in the fading light.
“Are you alright?” Shamsana shouted to her. “We’re with the Jyotish marines. If you need help you can come with us.” If she was badly wounded, there wasn’t much anyone could do at this stage.
The woman appeared to be in her early twenties at first glimpse. As she walked closer, Krodha realized she was just out of her teens. Her hair was long, black, and messed-up, as if she’d waked from a deep sleep. If she was in some kind of shock, they needed to get her back to the post. He started to walk to her.
“Hold it,” Shamsana said to her. “What the hell is she wearing?”
The woman didn’t have the usual wrap worn by the locals, or a uniform of any of the Jyotish military branches. There were bits of body armor dangling from her. She had a harness of some kind over her torso, the very type used to secure armor.
Her hand came up with a pistol in it. Krodha almost shot her that very moment, but held off. She didn’t resemble any of the invaders, but both groups did use local conscripts. He hesitated again and the woman dropped the pistol, which bounced off the ground.
Shamsana swept the pistol up and shoved in into her belt. Before she did, she glanced at it and noted the gun was a Jyotish design. She was much closer to the woman now and saw scores of cuts on her body. Whatever happened to her, it was recent.
“Can you help me?” the woman said in a weak voice. “I don’t know how I got here. I’m sick, can’t walk much further.” With her last words, she fell to the ground. She lay there and coughed.
“What do you think?” Krodha said to his companion as he stood over her. “Looks harmless enough. Should we take her back?”
Shamsana walked up to her and looked down too. She kneeled at the woman’s level and felt over her body. No weapons on her. Nothing to identify her either. She looked too well fed to be a refugee, unless she’d held up some place with many supplies. If such a place existed, they needed to know about it.
“I don’t think she’s suffering from any disease,” Shamsana mentioned. “No reports of any plagues, so far. We need to get her back to the post. She might know where there are more supplies than we’ve been able to locate.”
“I’ll need help getting her out of here,” Krodha told his companion. “You’ll have to help me pick her up.” Shamsana reached down with him as each marine took the young woman by a shoulder. They brought her up to their level.
“Thank you,” the woman said to them as she regained consciousness. “I don’t know how I got here. I’m glad you helped me. I don’t live too far away. I think.” She didn’t weigh much, but Krodha noted her body was hard, as if she was an athlete.
“You’ll have to come with us,” Shamsana told her. “That’s it; just move your feet one step at a time.” The woman began to shamble along as they helped her down the rubble-strode road.
Krodha kept one eye on the top of the buildings near them. If there would be an attack, it would come from that direction. His other eye was fixed in the location of where the Synarchist troops had run. The latest batch was all dead, but more were out there.
“Just stay awake, lady,” Krodha spoke to the woman, “We’ll get you someplace safe but you have to let us help you.”
Chapter 5
Shamsana handed the pistol the woman carried to Vatuka as they entered the former ministry building. There were no other interferences from either the Jacobite or Synarchists on the way back. Vatuka almost refused to let them in the building with the strange woman until Shamsana refused to enter without her.
The first thing they did was to put her into one of the offices next to the atrium. She was still delirious. A medic looked at her and wrapped the strange woman in a blanket after he checked her vital signs.
“She’s in shock,” he told them. “It’s a good thing you got her to me because she’d be dead out there if you hadn’t brought her inside. I can’t see her surviving very long alone in her state. At least we can save her life. For now.” He sat a dim lantern by the woman and walked away.
The atrium was illuminated by small lanterns the marines brought along with them. No fires, other than small candles, were allowed since there would be no way to stop an out of control blaze if one happened. The lower part of the windows was covered to keep anyone from noticing the light outside the building.
A sentry would tell them if there was any movement near the building. It had happened a few times last week. All lights were extinguished until the marines felt it safe to light them again.
Both Shamsana and Krodha seated themselves by the office where the woman was kept. A sentry posted by the door to keep an eye on her, but the woman didn’t seem dangerous. At least for now.
Two hours later, Krodha felt a thump on his head. He’d been asleep in a brief nap, the only kind of rest he allowed himself. He looked up to see Shamsana stand over him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Time to go kill some Synners?” His hand pulled the machine gun back to him.
“That woman,” Shamsana said to him. “She’s rambling over in the office. “She’s scaring the hell out of the refugees.” She didn’t carry a gun, but her knife was holstered on her belt.
“What is she saying that scares everyone?” he asked her. This was a new development.
“She’s rambling abo
ut Holy Mother Kushmanda. She claims to be in touch with her.”
“I don’t understand why this should bother anyone. People say all kinds of crazy things when they’re delirious. Didn’t one of the men talk about Lord Krishna the moment before he died?” He laid his head back, ready to return to the land of sleep.
“It’s the way she talks,” Shamsana, pointed out. “People are whispering about forest demons and all kinds of nonsense.”
“Have you told Sura?”
“She’s on her way down here now.”
“So this is the woman you picked up in the street?” Commander Sura asked the two as they stood next to the prone form of the strange woman. “She’s quiet now. Tell me how you found her.”
Shamsana went over the firefight between the Synarchists, the Jacobite and the strange young woman who’d wondered into the street afterwards.
“Here’s the weapon she carried when they brought her into the building,” Vatuka said to Commander Sura. He’d been summoned when Krodha told her the woman was found with a pistol.
“It’s local,” Sura pronounced to the others. “But it doesn’t prove a thing. Both groups of invaders are using what they can find. We don’t know whom she was with before we found her. Did you say she on some body armor when you found her?” Shamsana nodded and pointed at the harness in the corner.
Sura walked over and picked it up. She examined the dark armor and placed it back in the corner.
“Could be Jacobite, I don’t know,” she pronounced. “She could have stolen it from them or perhaps she was a conscript. The Synners recruit when they can; I suppose the Jackies could do it too.”
“Commander,” Shamsana brought up, her dark eyes with a fierce look, “we aren’t the only people from this city attacking the invaders. I’ve seen lone groups of fighters without uniforms shooting it out with the Synners. Maybe she’s from some local militia.”
“Still,” Sura brought up. “You shouldn’t have brought her into the building. You and Krodha could have found a place for her outside. We’ve got plenty of people in here who are civilians already.”
“All we saw was a woman in need,” Shamsana told the commander. “Paranoia and despair are as much a threat as the invaders. Who are we to judge if a person should live or die?” Krodha could see the anger in her eyes, but she held it back.
“We can’t save everyone!” Sura snapped back at her. “I don’t even know if this woman will be alive much longer. We don’t have much in the way of medical help and it has to be used for the marines before anyone else is helped. If you aren’t out there killing invaders, you go the back of the line. That includes me. I have to stay here and call in the strikes, so I eat after the rest of you.”
“I wasn’t arguing with you, commander,” she tried to explain. “I was giving you my line of reasoning. Krodha was all for leaving her out there, because we don’t have the resources here to care for everyone. No civilians are supposed to be in Parmesh, if I recall executive order ninety-seven. We can’t be responsible for people who are so ignorant they stayed behind, even if they have children. But at the same time, we have an entire floor of refugees here.” She turned and walked away in anger.
It was in her right as his commanding officer to discipline Shamsana right now, but Sura didn’t say a thing. The best thing to do was to let her cool off. In a few hours, she’d feel guilty and apologize. She’d seen this play out many times over the past few weeks with other marines. Some of them were still alive; the most foolhardy were killed off early in the battle.
The woman slowly opened her eyes a few hours later. She shook a few times and sat up as she adjusted her hair. A few times in the night, the medic had come by to check on her and make sure her condition had improved. It was the medic’s opinion the woman would be fine with a little rest. Other than the cuts on her arm, she didn’t appear to be in bad shape. Without any way to scan her for injuries, there was no means to determine if she had internal damages. However, the woman didn’t appear to have any of the classic signs of internal bleeding or broken bones. She would be fine in a few days with proper rest.
“Something no one can give her right now,” Commander Sura grumbled. She was watching over her in a chair in the office where the woman slept.
When the last sentry was relived, Sura had her come to the office she used as a command center. As she’d done every night since relocating to the former ministry building, Sura slept in her uniform on the couch with Tripada at the door. She wanted to check on the strange woman who terrified the refugees in the atrium. She was quiet when Sura came into the room to check on her. The commander sat down in the chair near the door and dozed until she heard the woman stir.
The woman turned over and looked up at Sura. “Where am I?” she asked. “Who are you and how did I get here?” She had large eyes that absorbed your soul.
“You are in the Forward Operating Post of Aadya Brigade,” Sura informed her. “I am Commander Sura Singh of the Jyotish Federal Army. We found you in the street wandering around and brought you here. Why are you still in Parmesh? The city was supposed to be evacuated last week. You don’t look like one of the typical refugees who decided to stay behind and help themselves to the goods.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman answered her. “I can’t recall very much. I was outside, I remember some people finding me. I don’t recall what happened afterwards.”
“Was that your gun we found on you?” Sura demanded. “It’s similar to the ones the militias have used in the past. Are you with some militia group? If you are, I need to know. All the militias were disbanded at the start of the invasion and incorporated into the Federal Army. Are there any more in your group out there? How long have you been wandering around the city? You’re lucky you didn’t run into the Synarchists or the Jacobites. They’d have shot you on sight.”
She attempted to stand and wobbled a bit. “I really wish I could tell you more,” the woman informed her. “All I remember is staggering outside and the gunfire. It was horrible and I thought they were going to kill me.”
“Who was shooting at you? Where did this happen? I need to know because information on the invaders is weak. They’ve moved into the center of Parmesh and we don’t know where all of them are located. You need to start talking!”
“I wish I could tell you what you want to know, commander,” she spoke. The woman saw the armor harness in the corner and walked over to touch it. “Is this mine? I seem to recall having it on me.”
“We found that on you when you collapsed in the street,” Sura informed her. “Where did you get that body armor? It resembles the type worn by Jacobite knights. Are you working with the Jacobites?”
“Commander, I wouldn’t betray my own world. Why would someone do such a thing?”
“Both factions of invaders are recruiting from people who are desperate. They don’t realize what will happen to them if either group takes control of this planet. So there is your answer.”
The woman found a chair across from the commander and sat down. The office had to be some kind of conference room at one time, as there were several tables and chairs in it. The young woman grabbed both arms of the chair and held on. Sura worried she would have to call the medic back in to look at her, but the woman steadied herself and leaned back.”
“Do you have a name, young woman?” Sura asked her. “We didn’t find any sort of identification on you.”
“Kushmanda,” she told her. “I am called Kushmanda. I can’t remember anything else.” Her eyes focused on the commander.
“Are you serious?” Sura demanded. “Do you expect me to believe that?”
“Why not?”
“Wouldn’t you find it funny if I told you my name was Goddess Mahakali?”
“Why would I?”
“I thought you were from this planet? Don’t you know anything about the cultural of Jyotish? You don’t seem to know much.”
“As I have said, my head hurts and I have a hard time remembering anyt
hing.”
Sura was quiet. Perhaps the young woman had suffered a concussion or some other head trauma. It was possible this happened in the fighting and she suffered from memory loss. People with head injuries did all kind of strange things and she might be calling herself by the last word she’d heard someone say.
On the other hand, she could be a Synarchist infiltrator who wanted to give the troops false hope. If she were trying to play the historic role of Holy Mother Kushmanda, this would be a good strategy. Both the Synarchists and Jacobites had a reputation in how they used propaganda as a strategic weapon. If the target planet could be made to surrender without much resistance, it was resources saved to be use on the next objective.
“Why should I believe you?” Sura demanded. “You’ve given me no proof you are anyone I should trust. The best I can believe is that you are a poor fool who was stuck inside the city. How did you survive here so long? Where did you get your supplies?”
“I can’t remember?”
“What is your real name?”
“Kushmanda.”
“Quit playing these games with me! You know the same lessons everyone else was taught at in temple school. Or you are messing with our beliefs and I don’t care for this at all. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t have you taken outside and shot as a potential infiltrator!”
The woman looked at the commander and began crying. The tears flowed down her eyes and she sobbed relentlessly.
“I can’t remember who I am!” She sobbed. “All I remember is that I’m Kushmanda!”
Commander Sura left the office and tapped one of the sleeping marines near the door on the shoulder. “Make sure she never leaves that office,” she told him after gesturing to it. “I don’t trust our new arrival.”
The man looked up at her with sleepy eyes. “You mean the one who calls herself Kushmanda?” He asked.
