“Thank you, but then what? I have no idea how to win this battle. I am a peaceful man from Earth.”
“There is no such thing as a peaceful man from Earth. You have a very old culture of warfare there, you were born in that culture, consciously or not you are part of it. Deep inside you there is whatever knowledge you need to win this battle. Think! You are trained to think, not to flex muscles for nothing. Your mind is your most dangerous weapon, or at least I hope so.” And, as always, she left me with the darkness of the cave matching the one inside my mind.
“Stop where you are, Deceneus.” Armin’s voice was sober, even anxious. “There is a mortal danger coming along with you.”
“Can you feel it?”
“Yes. Where does it come from, what is the source of it?”
“From the south, I have two knives poisoned like this for inglorious fights. Can you prepare this toxin? With this we can easily win the war.”
“Then what difference is there between us and the Travelers?” And he turned his back to me. Everybody wants me to do the thing graciously. It's not fair.
*
It was dark again, more like a friendly obscurity. Somehow, I found it easier to gather my thoughts in the loneliness of the night. As before, I was far from the fire and the agitation of the camps. I refused even Delena's overture for conversation and apparently she was not upset; we had already agreed that the lake episode was something to forget. She, like everybody else, understood my need for solitude or at least tolerated it because of their expectations of me. I had got tired of those expectations, manifested in furtive glances and whispers and loud encouragements. “Yes, you can!” As if I could be some sort of super – I don't know what – Baragan, Munti or Erin, depending on everybody's origin.
“Focus on the picture!” I shouted, realizing too late that the cry was for real, not only in my mind, when Armin and Duras appeared from the night.
“Is everything okay?”
“Too much tension, that's all,” I answered, barely audible, fighting automatically to put a smile on my lips without realizing that no one would see it in the dark, and they left.
What can we use against their strength? Arrows? Spears? Hit and run? Invaders are tested in this way, but they don’t kill everyone, they only want to rob them by using force. The Nogi will leave no survivors; they will eliminate every man, woman and child, and make space for their new homes. They do not need slaves in either a classical or modern economic dependency. No one will be left for guerrilla warfare. Still, an asymmetrical response ought to be the answer. But how?
I stood up and started to walk until the last hum of noise from the camp was gone. Armin told me later that he and Duras had followed me closely in the night, fearing for my safety, but I never realized that myself.
Travelers were filling my nightmares again, only now the writing said eight days. I have to ask Armin. Maybe it is some kind of psychological warfare. But in the end I was ashamed, and I don't remember if fear of losing my hero status was the cause of that.
*
The patch of dust grew into a cloud. Horses came out, here and there, ghosts neighing power, riders shouted, the famous Munti cavalry filled the large plain, making it smaller. I now have my cavalry. Your wish came true. Next time… Warriors, brave and hearty, ready for the last desperate fight, twelve thousand horses and men, the Draco flags loudly howling their pride. The Southern and Northern armies divided the valley to play their war games. We had decided to strike the enemy in stages, like thunder: the larger Northern army would take the lead crashing against the Nogi troops head-on, trying to stop their advance and dislodge their formation, the Southern one would make a big detour, hitting the enemy from the back, and finish the Nogi menace once and for all. This was the plan; made with faked optimism for the sake of the troops. Bad morale is worse than weakness. A memory from the past came into my mind, the Byzantine army running before the battle after a mule-keeper tried to push back his animal shouting ‘turn now’. The whole army ran from the battlefield, pushed by their fear as though they had wings. Not the case here, I muttered, but that doesn't mean that we have much chance of winning.
From the small ridge, I could see the entire caldera, an insignificant part of the broader Munti plain, a five mile circle of fine grass, perfect for the horses to gallop. The mouth of an old volcano, now worn away by the soft power of wind and water, only sixty feet left of its once mighty peak. It had the advantage of being in the path of the Nogi and gave us a good view over the battlefield. A drop of water looks powerless against a sturdy rock but will still erode it in time. We don’t have that time; again I discarded the card of guerrilla warfare. The victory must be won here in one single day. An image came to my mind, this time from Houston’s recordings: seven Munti riders attacking a Nogi, a large one even by their standards. The horsemen leveled their spears at him; charging at full speed; their horses passed the hopeless Nogi, but the next moment two of them were down, the riders were lying on the ground together with the two animals. The Nogi seemed unscathed.
“Houston I need to see this movie in slow motion,” I asked her in the cave. With no comment, she ran the movie again in my mind. I saw the Nogi feinting past the spears of the first riders, giving such blows to the horses, with bare hands, that they were down the next second, then catching one of the spears and hitting a third rider. By the time the rest of the horsemen had turned back the two fallen Munti were already dead. The riders changed their minds and threw the spears from a distance; of four of them only one hit their target, the frantic hand movements of the Nogi deflecting the other ones. With sure moves, he defiantly took out the one piercing his shoulder. The Munti changed their minds and fled.
“How many warriors were in the fight when the Munti destroyed the Nogi village? I asked her.
“Three hundred riders and twenty Nogi men and women.”
“And you still think that we have a chance to win?”
“There is always a chance for even the least probable events to exist. Remember that you are, bit by bit, creating your own reality based on your own fate in that reality.”
“Yeah, I know, you can move mountains, if you have enough will,” I snorted derisively.
“There is more truth in that saying than you are able to perceive in this moment.”
“What do you want to perceive, apart from our utter defeat? You just saw the same movie as me. What chance do we have with these animals able to kill a horse with one stroke? A fist stroke, not an ax or a sword.”
“If you believe in your defeat then you will fulfill your own prophecy, and they are not animals, they are human beings. If you try to hunt down animals and find humans in their place, you will be the surprised loser. You must have surprise on your side, not against you. Think of them as humans and find the surprise you need to win the battle.”
“Are they a kind of 'Salusa secundus' experiment?” I tried desperately to receive more information.
“In a way yes, the hostile medium is doing the survival of the fittest job, but there is also a lot of genetic modeling in place. And yes, they are what they were meant to be, but they are also different. The hand of uncertainty is at work everywhere and mocks any designer. They are not the huge surprise that the Erin were but they are a surprise of their own, even for their creators. They are stubborn and not easy to influence. Fear is your worst enemy but also your ally; the balance of fear will win the battle. Ask the master in you how to tune fear.”
“What do they fear the most?” I could not yet perceive her arguments. Houston never says something without motive. I tried to force my deeper senses to figure out if she was afraid of the outcome of this battle, but I could not feel anything. Is there nothing to feel or I am not consciously able to access it? I continued my thoughts without noticing the long silence.
“Cold. Their plain is freezing; the planet is reverting to the normal climatic cycle.”
I was not sure what she meant by this, maybe because my atte
ntion was far away. “Can you be less cryptic?” But the cave was empty and the silent walls provided no answers.
*
“Do you still believe we have a chance to root out the Nogi with one hard push and a final cut? How many Erins will escape from the first shock and how many Munti?” I asked Armin as we contemplated the future battlefield. We were alone; Duras was leading the combat training, his Northern Army being the first to be baptized in battle.
“There will be no Erins in the charge.” What the hell? Are you joking? “We are not constructed for wars. We eliminated as much aggression as we could from our original minds, for we were designed like the first Nogi. It all ended with us being able to respond to any psychic threat but no longer able to carry out large-scale combat like this. We need a specific and unprovoked threat in order to react and charging with cavalry against a group of people, be they warriors or not, is not an option. Our reactions would be slower than usual and we would be easy prey. I am sorry, but we came to this conclusion last night. There will be only one hundred Erin warriors in the battle and only in the second line or for scouting.” Silence fell heavy and sticky between us. All my hopes of finding some asymmetrical ways of defeating Nogi had vanished into thin air.
“We are prepared, twelve thousand riders and as many spears.” Duras’s voice was calm, or as much as it could be. “Here is the best place to attack them. We have to lure them into this trap. This is our first and last stand; it's either them or us.”
“Travelers’ conditioning is still working in you. Fear of the Nogi made you attack their village. Fear is killing your mind. They seed and play your fear.” I saw them frowning. Frown as much as you want but listen. We cannot win.
“We have … to … destroy them.” Siena's voice began abruptly but lost power as the significance of her words dawned on her. Fear them; it's good for a leader to be aware of her own weakness. This will only make my task easier.
“We cannot destroy them and I don't want to destroy them, even if we could. We need to change the narrative the black hats inserted in their minds. Fear can do this.”
“Fear? They have no fear. They would attack us even with bare hands against spears or swords. They are animals.” For the first time, panic surfaced in Duras's words.
“They are not animals, they are as human as us, and even stones fear water.” Thank you, Houston, I noted in my mind, knowing well that she would read this at the next encounter. “And we have to prepare the war as if we are acting against humans, humans with cleverness, a resolve to fight but also fear. This battle can’t be won only by force. Fear must work for us. They are afraid: the climate is going back to normal; the large northern plains will freeze. You know this. Each year your people from the north are migrating to warmer areas, Munti and Erins together. It is this fear which is played against us, as is ours played against them.” I stopped to let my words penetrate their minds. You will curse me for playing on your fear, but after fear comes hope; if I am able to show you the smallest glimpse of hope you will all grasp it. But first you have to fear. “We need to gather as many people as we can here, warriors, women, old people, teenagers. Can you bring me fifty thousand of them in three days?”
“If we lose, all will die, there will be no future for the Munti.” Siena's voice was worse than bitter.
“Look around!” The council had gathered in the middle of the old caldera at my request. “Look around and imagine that each place on the edge of the circle we see is filled with warriors. We know that they will not all be warriors”, I prevented their questions, “but the Nogi will not know this; even if the people at the back have only sticks in their hands from here they will see dangerous spears. There will be four thousand Nogi here, almost all their population, men and women. If you still think that the Munti cavalry can win against those Nogi armed with iron double axes and wooden armor, tell me now.”
“Yes, they will be scared and go back to die in the frozen north.” Siena's voice was biting like frost, but she did not object to the most obvious thing, that the Munti could not win the battle.
“They will not return to the frozen north, they will settle in the High Valley.”
“That is our land!” all the Munti cried in one loud voice.
“You left that land as it was no longer suitable for the Munti or even for the Erins. What is a bad area for you will be heaven for them. Fear is the stick, this will be the carrot; the decision is yours.” I expected everyone to jump on me, but no word came out and that silence raised the fear of losing momentum. I sensed anger mounting inside them and suddenly foresaw all the arguments I had constructed crashing under that anger. Their eyes were colder than the Northern Plain.
“I will tell you something that probably you are not aware of.” Armin’s voice broke the silence. You must help … your bloody capacity of future projection. Use it now! “What came through taking goes through giving. After our revolt, the Travelers were afraid of investing too many capabilities in the Nogi, so they are not capable of mental projection. That much you know,” he stopped the Munti chorus. “What you don't know is that they are more resistant to hypnosis than any of you, their conditioning is weak and, as Deceneus said, it is mostly their fear which is used by the Travelers. I am with him.”
“I am not.” Siena stood up and left the meeting, followed by all the Munti. The night was long and the sky cold, with stars eyeing me in anger.
“The warrior can’t sleep?” Delena's voice broke the silent night.
“Sleep is my last problem for now. Have you come to tell me how much I am hated after the last council?”
“You need sleep. Big things are made from little steps, and no one hates you. You are a traveler seeing many places and many things, so you should know that hard decisions are not easy to take. But I am not here to talk about war or politics.” Her presence comforted me, and near the dawn, my asymmetrical war started to gather some shape in a dream, with many riders attacking something looking like a huge red tortoise.
It was late when Siena’s harsh voice awoke me in haste. “Your fifty thousand people will be here by tomorrow. Messages were sent last night. Do you have something else in mind or will everything be solved by simply waiting for them to come and ask for mercy?” I saw her eyes, sunken in their orbits and failed to give a proper answer. I could pity her for the tough decision, but this is the meaning of being a ruler, taking decisions in ruthless times. In my still sleeping mind, memories started to surface, I had something when I went to sleep, I muttered, a strategy to win.
“Thank you, milady, yes, I will need two thousand good archers on horses.” No direct combat. I continued to squeeze my mind, no spears, no swords ... Attila, Romans ... savage riders, tortoise military formation ... a huge red one... Houston, you are right … peaceful Earth … there is no such place.
In the middle of the plain, five hundred Erins were to play the Nogi in the small warfare game I set for that day. Columns of riders attacked at full speed, riding at a tangent of a circle created by poles planted in the ground, two hundred feet from the Erins' position, the distance from which an arrow shot was still lethal. The Erins had to sprint and touch the horses, their hands having white powder spread on them. The Munti had to manage to avoid having their horses tagged while ‘shooting’ arrows.
That evening I crossed paths with Altamira, a fact I considered coincidental at that time. Seeing her made my thoughts fly to Dava, and that brought me as much pleasure as pain. “Should I remind you again how old I am?” she chuckled, then walked with me in silence for a while. “If everything goes well, a new reality will be formed; one with much influence on Munti and Baragans alike, and that influence will strengthen your political clout.” If. This bloody if is what bothers me. “One star is vanishing there, one will rise here, they can easily change place in the political calculus.” I glanced at her. Political calculus is the last thing I care about right now. “You have enough Munti traits to help the Baragans overcome their blood problem. Yo
u would be a suitable candidate.”
*
“They are not so easy to control by hypnosis.” Give me something Houston. I am in need.
“Armin has already told you the main story. A strong trigger helps to subvert a mind. Nogi are very independent by genetic design. The Travelers were caught in a bind, to give the Nogi some mental powers, therefore making them easier to be influenced by hypnosis, but also the ability to choose an independent course as the Erins did, or to set this aside and make them less prone to hypnosis. I know it sounds somehow like a contradiction, but the result was that the Nogi have no mental powers. You also have no psychic abilities; you escaped the Travelers’ mental influence. The difference between Erins and Baragans lies in other qualities like physical power and...”
“How did the Saurians subvert us?”
“There is a good deal of difference between inducing general knowledge and traits and manipulating a mental pattern to act against something or somebody. It is never easy to create the goal of killing an unknown person from nothing; it is much easier to induce the goal to kill somebody you already know is your enemy. A simple example from your own world: fear is the trigger most often used for mass subversion campaigns, be it based on religion, skin color, or a fear of foreign people. It was always used successfully to drive large populations into submission, to accept a lower level of life and a lack of political rights.”
*
The first arrow was fired into the valley mouth, there where the Alutus River escaped the mountain walls. Column-like rocks towered over the torrent, not many, but once we controlled the path, they could not be climbed, not even by the strong and agile Nogi. Five hundred archers, mostly old people, were already gathered there when the three columns of warriors started to pour out of the mountains. As revealed by the old Deceneus, two smaller groups came from over the ridge. The Nogi scrambled up, but passed by, leaving the first dead to trail in a long row behind. A good omen for us, the word passed by riders to the main quarter raised the morale of our restless troops, the first sign that our strategy could be the winning one.
Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe) Page 36
