‘Resistance started small. Bands of Wends fiercely fought to hold off the larger invasion forces using night raids, sheer will power, self-sacrifice and their own brand of terror. Any attempt of a direct confrontation with the invaders was shattered, but that does not mean the Wends were helpless.
Our people grew up in the steep wild slopes of these mountains. Their ancestors hunted there for generations and only recently began farming the high valleys. They still understood the forests and the night trails. A bright moon like this allowed the hunters to move easily and quietly through the night woodland and steep slopes of the Caucasus. As it always was, the wolves followed them and hunted around them but in this time the game was human.’
‘As the hunters approached the invader’s camps they would look down from the high slopes and see the guards sitting by their protecting campfires. Those lowland Turks fearfully watched the darkness enveloping them from the warm safety of their massive watch-fires. They particularly feared the wolves that appeared in the black of night with their eyes aglow in the reflected firelight. Dark, sinister shadows of power prowled around them in the night, seen only briefly by the sentry’s fire-dimmed eyes.’
‘The packs distracted the sentinels, allowing the small band of defenders to move silently through the rock and brush and just as silently remove the guards. In the early hours just before the false light of morning, they would creep in, out of the shadows and without a sound to slit the sleepy guard’s throats and bellies before moving onward into the camp.’
‘The hunters knew they could not kill all of the invaders, there were too many in the camps. They did the next best thing. They brought their own form of terror back to the butchers. After the guards were removed the hunters broke up into even smaller bands that would silently penetrate as far into the camp as possible. They passed through the camp as dark angels of death, killing those in one tent and passing by the next.’
‘As they went along, they would artfully slit the sleeping invader’s throats and cut their tendons behind the knees so they could not call or even crawl for help. The hunters were careful not to bring a fast death by severing the neck arteries. They left for the invaders a slow and very messy passing brought on by eventual suffocation and shock. Many foul invaders drowned in their own blood with their companions helplessly watching by their side. Fear filled the hearts of the crippled victims, silently pumping blood and terror throughout one tent while leaving the next undisturbed with its occupants peacefully asleep. Methodically the hunters moved onward to the next tent.’
‘They struck fast and then left. As the hunters worked through the camps, the wolves that followed them turned their attentions to ripping into the downed sentries. The packs then silently followed the hunt, spreading the seeds of even more terror in their dark path through the heart of the enemy encampment. Soon the enemy would be full astir and, from up in the forest, the retreating Wends would hear dismay fill the black hearts of the invaders.’
‘As the first rays of sun touched them, the near panicked soldiers below would come across the silent bloodied tents, slit throats and bodies. They cried out in dread of the wolves still working the camp and the havoc that was descended upon them. Many died so silently with their necks or gut chewed out by the wolves that viciously followed the initial attack of the hunters. The questions would always arise; “How could wolves kill sentries and move so silently? Why were they slain while our tent was passed by? Look here, these aren’t bites. How could wolves slit throats and tendons with knives? But it was wolves we’ve seen amongst us! Or are they truly wolves?”’
‘Eventually my ancestors did stop and then ultimately drive the invaders out by using these tactics of the night. The tribe got to be very good at it. Grandpop often wondered if these hunts were the basis for the vampire stories of eastern Europe. The killing and gore was obviously started by humans but the aftermath of terror in the camp they gained from the wolves.’
‘For those who knew the tribe there is an additional minor bit of coincidence between the legend and the stories. You see the majority of the Wend tribe’s males have fewer teeth than most Europeans. The two teeth on either side of their eyeteeth never come in. This makes the fangs stand out a little more when we smile.’ Corey turns and smiles in the bright moonlight, two sharp teeth, for the most part unnoticed before, glisten white in the pale moonlight.
‘Jeez Corey, that’s the last thing I needed tonight.’ Alex turned and stood up to brush the dirt from his pants. ‘I think it’s been quiet enough out there. The defenses seem to be doing their job and I’m tired. Let’s call it quits with the ending of this happy story and go to bed. Man, what a classic campout. Great food, a beautiful fire, an evening beyond description and even ghost stories. Good night! By the way, do you tell these stories to your kid and expect him to sleep at night?’
* * * * *
Corey woke up. He always was a light sleeper. This time though, he wasn’t sure just why he woke; maybe just a bit uncomfortable in the sleeping bag. Then why did he feel like he shouldn’t move a muscle? Just listen. Don’t even open your eyes or change your breathing. Just listen. He could almost feel the room around him at times like this. Somehow though, this time it is different.
There are no unexpected sounds. Nothing out of the ordinary. Anton and Alex are breathing regularly, peacefully. You can almost feel the rhythm of their breath and the faint soft movement of the cloth of their sleeping bags as their lungs fill and exhale the evening’s cool air. Anton snores faintly now, he must have turned onto his side. Strange, uncorrelated thoughts fly through Corey’s mind, ‘It’s amazing what a few more percentage points of oxygen in the air can do to improve your senses.’
Outside a low and cooling breeze blows through the pines to the south. It’s weird how, if you listen closely like this, you can hear the difference between the pine’s needles and the palm as they rustle in the wind. Even the surf sounds of the ocean carry, pushing against the shore and the rush of the river in the valley to the north. He couldn’t hear these in the daytime or at least he never noticed. ‘Hmm, this is nice, a whole new world that you can’t experience in the day.’
Corey’s leg is stiff but he’s hesitant to stretch. Something still isn’t right. Yes, that’s it! It’s not what I hear, it’s what I don’t hear. I can hear the distant singing and low warble in the swamp. Normal sounds of night. Bugs and small creatures call, twitter and click all around. Now that I notice, their volume is almost deafening; except for those that should be very near. Most of all, there’s no evening song from anything nearby.
‘Yes, that’s it! The sweetly singing birdcalls that were pushed almost to the background by those of the dinosaurs. I listened as I fell off to sleep last night to that sweet chorus. They aren’t there! Maybe it’s simply late evening. Perhaps they quiet down as the …’
‘What’s that smell? A sharp odor coming in through the tent, tickling my sinus. Yes, something like ammonia but not as strong.’ With that thought, Corey opens his eyes slowly. Just a barely noticed slit, enough to see the shadows on the tent. Long dark fingers extend across the tent wall. Branch shadows from the brush projected by the moon onto the sides and top. A Hunter’s bright moon, now full and high in its path across the sky. Nothing more. ‘That’s the last time I tell family stories before bedtime. Back to sleep or you’re going to be tired tomorrow.’
‘Perhaps if I …’ A scraping sound behind him. Along the edge of the hut’s wall behind him. He stops, frozen at the level and suddenness of the noise. His eyes are wide open. The others still sleep. ‘How could they not have heard that!’ His senses scream. ‘What is trying to get in behind me?’ The very thought is like a knife point held between his shoulder blades. ‘Should I turn? I need to turn and look! What will happen if the seal on the hut is broken?’
His hand slides out silently to the utility belt hanging from the pole by his head. He fumbles for the catch. Something warm grips his hand. Holds it there and gently squeezes.
‘Alex, yes it has to be Alex. He must have sensed it too.’
Corey freezes and the tension in his hand slowly releases. Now he can feel Alex moving, a dark shape at the edges of his vision. Slowly rising then the shadow stops, frozen in mid-stance as a second scraping sound erupts from the other side of the hut that is followed by a faint tearing sound from the one behind Corey’s back. His eyes turn but he’s afraid to move his head even though the ripping is but a few inches from his back. A hand silently covers his mouth and his eyes snap up to see Alex’s dark shade standing next to him with the dull black, deadly blade of his Ka-Bar fighting knife extending out from his hand.
Alex raises his hand and curls his fingers, calling Corey up and away from the edge of his tent. Corey silently presses the tab and the sleeping bag unseals and falls to the floor with a faint rustle that seems to scream for attention. Quietly he slips out of the bag, rolling across the mat on the floor with only the faintest swish of falling material to mark his exit from the sleeping bag. Alex steps forward. There’s a small cut in the edge of the hut, nothing more and of course no shadows on this side.
A quiet scraping on the other side, behind Alex followed by a low snuffing sound. Then another sound on the other side of the tent. There are at least two of them! A low dark shadow flows across the side of the tent, unrecognizable in the distortion of its passage. Silently they turn. Anton is sitting up and has his pistol up and ready. Slowly Anton reaches into his backpack and pulls something out. Alex looks, it’s a flash-bang. A small grenade designed to startle and scare. Alex shakes his head, “No!”
More scratching and sniffing as the shadows circle the outside of the hut. What are they? How did they get past the AutoSentinels? A low keening sound begins just on the other side of the wall. A plaintive wailing and the faint sharp odor rises stronger penetrating to the very back of their sinus. A dark spot slams into the low panel of the hut and pushes. Reinforced memory fibers of the tough synthetic push and reform back into shape, actively resisting the intrusion. Four sharp claws punch through the material. The hut shakes as the intruder pushes vainly against the resisting and self repairing memory fiber of the active polymer crystals.
Claws suddenly retract and the shadow pushes down and glides off the side. Scraping sounds carry into the hut from outside. Then nothing. The three engineers stand silently in the center of the hut with only the distant sounds of the night around them. For a time, familiar shadows slowly move across the side of the hut. The smell has even passed.
Corey slowly reaches over to his belt and pulls his pistol. He walks to the door of the hut and reaches out. Alex grabs his hand and silently shakes his head. Alex moves his hand up to his ear and points at it and then he points outside, ‘Listening! They are watching! A trap!’
Corey nods his silent understanding. They seem to stand there silently forever and then gradually the sounds of the nearby night-singers return. Alex reaches over and puts on his soft armor utility suit. He motions for Anton and Corey to also dress. Then, ever so slowly, he opens the now pliant door of the hut. Their night-sensitive eyes scan the pale-lit meadow around the camp.
Alex turns and motions for Corey to look right, Anton to the left. They exit the door, ready and aware of every movement perceived and imagined. All is quiet except for the singing and calls of the peaceful night song. Alex walks over to the perimeter console, examines the display for a while and then whispers back, ‘No movement in the area so I… Shit, four of the AutoSentinels are down.’
Anton stands erect and rubs his lower back but his eyes continue to scan the meadow around him. Without turning he whispers ‘Well don’t that take the cake? I never heard of four of them failing at the same time. Murphy seems to be working overtime.’
‘Murphy who?’ Corey asks then stops, ‘Oh, you mean Murphy’s Law, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong!” Ok, but the probability of four going out must be astronomical!’
Alex’s whisper raises a little higher, ‘Nope, wasn’t Murphy this time. Remember, we lost that outer sensor last night. The other three failure’s form a path right through our perimeter defense net. This was a planned incursion.’
‘Whoa, let’s not get carried away here. Do you realize what your last statement would imply? Anyway, why didn’t the AI detect the systematic failures and alert us?’ Anton asked as he carefully walked over to Alex.
‘I didn’t activate it last night. This really isn’t a combat situation and we are running on stored energy until the Gravitic Field generator is running. Animals just don’t have the technology or even the concept of electronic surveillance so I thought we wouldn’t need it.’
Voices returning to near normal, Corey walks over to the side of the hut. ‘It seems our local singers are a better warning system. What the hell could be so scary that they all hunker down into silence when our visitors appeared?’
‘Jeez, all that scratching and nothing to show for it but a few ruts in the ground and a hole in the side of the hut where the claw went through.’
‘I’m not surprised about the lack of scratches since the hut is somewhat self healing. I’m kind of amazed that they managed to make a hole at all and even more so that it’s still there. No, look, two holes in it.’ Alex replied. ‘Be careful where you walk over there, maybe we’ll be able to see their tracks tomorrow. I’m not about to set up any lights out here right now. There, I’ve started the AI interface, good evening Senti. Nice to talk with you again. We’ve had a problem with four of the sensors knocked out at one time. This was a hostile intrusion. Assume local hostiles with exotic intrusion capability.’
‘Ok, that’s about as tight as I can make it without a full AutoSentinel defense hookup like we have around the Station. Be careful, we don’t know for certain that they left. I hope the charge lasts until the sunlight returns.’
Anton turned toward Alex, ‘We don’t have any visuals on them either. I just reviewed the sequencing from last night and it shows only the four sentinels going down. No other trips and no record of movement in the camp. More importantly, it doesn’t show them leaving camp.’
‘You’re so sure there was more than one?’
‘Yeah, I distinctly saw at least two separate shadows on the wall of the hut. The seemed to work in unison. Notice how one stayed on one side while the other scratched the other side. They had a trap set for anyone escaping out the back.’
‘What the heck was the keening noise,’ Corey asked as he examined the hole in the hut’s side. ‘Jeez, he knew right where I was but couldn’t get to me. I think they were communicating.’
Anton’s head jerked, ‘Oh, now we’re really getting carried away… oh shit. I keep forgetting where we are. Yeah, the Hypes communicate real well and the Troondon, well we still haven’t figured out how they do all they do but it’s definitely communication and coordination.’
Alex emerged from the tent with a small clip in his hand. He plugged it into the AI console. ‘I’m reconfiguring the field around that incursion path. This means a program override for the area and, more importantly, it also means the sensors around the path edge will run a little hotter to cover the dead ones. Our only problem with this is how long the stored energy tank will last. We’ll have a warning signal before it drops to dangerous levels so no need to worry until then. After that it’s Mark 4 Eyeball surveillance in shifts for all of us.’
‘On second thought, hand me my combat helmet. Here Corey, we’re going to begin two-hour shifts right now and you have the first. Come here, sit with your back next to these rocks so you can scan the whole camp. I’ll leave the radio on, call first if you see something. After two hours, come in and get Anton. Anton, I’ll take the third shift.’
Corey put the helmet on and activated the optical. The area lit up clearly across the meadow. ‘OK, I get it, you’re setting yourself up for dawn watch. Well, thanks, I appreciate it Alex.’
‘Yep, you got it kid. Stay alert it’s only for two hours.’
Corey stood back agai
nst the rocks. Pistol in his harness and rifle loosely brace-strapped across his chest. The sounds of the night returned. The level seemed almost deafening as he scanned the perimeter outputs and watched the edges of the clearing. He wondered if the helmet was amplifying the noises.
After an hour or more the sensor alert indicated travel down the incursion path. Warning shots from the hot lasers went off, hitting the intruder and playing the ground around it. They pulled back.
A few minutes later, they began playing another edge of the perimeter. They seemed to appear inside the outer edges even with the AI running. Corey could hear the low keening sound after each attempt.
After a while, Anton called across Corey’s helmet. ‘Coming out, don’t get trigger happy. It’s time for you to get some shuteye.’
‘Over here Anton. I moved so that I could see better. They’ve been trying to get in off and on all night. First through the weak point and then they eventually tested the entire perimeter. I even had a few hits over by the river cliffs. Guess they gave up, it’s been quiet for the last forty minutes or so.’
‘Right, glad to hear they gave up. I’ll settle in here.’
The time passed easily for Anton. Watching the evening landscape through the sensors brought a whole new dimension to his plans. There were tricks that the dull shadows seemed to play as they flowed across the ground. The beauty of the sounds and lighting would make a fantastic meditation chapel or just background display for some theatre.
Hunter's Moon (Cretaceous Station Book 2) Page 10
