by Ste Sharp
‘Do we need to find grass for the tocka?’ a rifleman to Dakaniha ’s right asked.
‘No, they fed well last night,’ Tode replied.
Dakaniha rubbed his hands on his trousers, convinced he could still feel the water-beast’s blood on his skin. It was good to be on dry land, but something tickled the nape of his neck, like they were being watched. He looked around but his nervous glances caught nothing moving in the flat landscape. He scratched at his temple s and peeled tiny scab s from under his headband. W as it l ice? He pulled the headband off and saw Ethan had moved up to rid e beside him. The journey was always quicker when you had someone to talk to, he thought, but his gut tightened: Ethan was his people’s enemy. Then he pictured his mother’s father. Maybe he could learn from his enemy as he had done? Guns and horses were the European’s weapons , but Dakaniha ’s people had mastered them. Was there more to learn?
‘Your rifle,’ Dakaniha started a conversation , ‘I haven’t seen that type before.’
‘Well, ha!’ Ethan nodded at the musket strapped to Dakaniha ’s back. ‘Compared to some guns this is pretty new.’
‘This was not mine . ’ Dakaniha felt his cheeks flush. ‘I… found it.’
‘Okay, I get it,’ Ethan nodded. ‘Well, this is a Whitworth . ’ He patted his rifle. ‘Only us who trade with the British got hold of ’em. The bullets whistle but I can take the tail off a chipmunk at a hundred paces.’
Dakaniha wanted to ask Ethan why he needed to shoot tails off rodents but held his tongue.
‘ It’s saved my life a few times and taken more than its fair share of other s ’ . ’ Ethan’s face looked grim as though the weight of each life still pulled at him.
‘And your war?’
Ethan laughed. ‘Well, they call it civil but it’s anything but civil, believe me!’
‘It must be far from my land – I haven’t heard of it,’ Dakaniha replied.
That shocked Ethan, who peered at Dakaniha as though waiting for a joke.
‘What is it?’ Dakaniha asked after several side glances.
‘The whole of the United States is at war – south versus north – and you ain’t heard of it?’
Dakaniha squinted at Ethan. ‘What country is this, United States ?’
‘Jeez . ’ Ethan shook his head. ‘We’re fighting from Richmond to Chattanooga – that’s Cherokee country ain’t it?’
Dakaniha shrugged. ‘Sounds like a fishing village.’
‘Chickamauga?’ Ethan asked.
‘No . ’ Dakaniha thought of the larger settlements that Ethan was bound to have heard of. ‘Do you know Keowee?’ he suggested.
‘No… the British burnt it down a hundred years ago, why – ’ Ethan looked at the other warriors in the group, then back to Dakaniha . ‘Say, you ain’t from my time , are ya?’
‘I don’t understand,’ Dakaniha replied.
‘You’re an ancestor . ’ Ethan looked to the grey sky, wide- eyed. ‘Is that why I’m here?’ He spoke to the clouds. ‘To repent for my sins?’ He looked back to Dakaniha . ‘I had to make them pay. I know the good book says do not take revenge but leave room for God’s wrath, but they had to pay. My family, my wife, my children… they deserved vengeance.’
As Ethan’s voice trailed off, Dakaniha star ed at his comrades. How could they be from different ages? Different nations travelling to one country maybe but not different generations.
Dakaniha saw the tocka ahead were slowing to form a fan shape around Kastor and Gal-qadan’s steeds.
‘– and then he just stopped,’ Dakaniha caught the end of Kastor’s sentence.
Gal-qadan pointed to a series of round mud mounds in the ground. ‘We haven’t seen these before – I don’t trust them.’
Always so wary, Dakaniha thought.
Kastor shrugged and said, ‘Well, the tocka won’t go nearer so we’ll have to go – ’
An explosion erupted ahead of them, followed by more behind and on each flank. L umps of mud rained down on them and Dakaniha gripped the thick mane of his tock a as it jostled and shimmied . T he shocked herd were the closest he had ever seen to panic.
‘There!’
Dakaniha saw a monstrous blue creature charging at them with a wild, snapping array of pincers and claws.
They were surrounded.
‘Weapons!’ Tode shouted.
Dakaniha set an arrow in his bow, controlled his breath and fired at the nearest creature. The bow sang its sweet note and the arrow flew true but glanced off the animal’s armour. Dakaniha tried to calm his nerves but didn’t know what to do against such an enemy. He looked for Gal-qadan but couldn’t see him. Should he dismount and find space to attack with his knife? His head pounded and his temples itched. The tocka beneath him clawed at the ground… then a strange thing happened.
Light came pouring in.
It wasn’t a new light, just more light. Then shapes and colour. Although he couldn’t see it, Dakaniha felt two new eyes open on the side of his head. He could see all around now. Front and back. He couldn’t say why, but it made him feel safe. Impenetrable. Stronger.
He gave his tocka a dig of his heels and it leapt forward, teeth bared: charging to attack.
***
John’s head was pounding. He was tired, his mouth was dry and his stomach growled with hunger. Had he banged his head? It felt like he’d been asleep for a week and strange dreams were swimming before him: Joe; kind nurses; men playing cricket; Crossley’s smile; Rosie’s eyes; lights and… what was that smell? It was worse than Jess’s stable.
Cautiously, John stretched his dry eyelids open and focused on a small square of light. A window? He was lying on his back and he could see shadows and silhouettes but nothing held any colour or shape. A closed door. Was he in an operating theatre? The doctor hadn’t said they would operate, but Crossley had taken him to find Joe and… yes it was coming back now. They’d walked away from the field hospital, out of the woods. Why Joe had been at a field hospital, John had no idea – or why he and Crossley had travelled on a metal contraption like the tanks the army had started to use. Only this one was driven by what looked like a blue lobster… and there John’s memory stopped.
He heard a sound from another room, so dropped his head and closed his eyes. With no memory of how he got here, John knew he was in danger.
‘…they have what?’ A deep voice growled in anger.
‘Steeds, General. Animals to carry them across the plain of battles,’ a higher-pitched voice replied.
‘Their main army will grow in number unless we…’ the first voice trailed off.
John tried to move his legs but something was holding them at the knee. His left arm felt the same while his right arm… clicked when he tensed his fingers. His gun-arm. John visualised his fingers inside the gun, as he’d done before, and could feel shapes forming.
The door burst open to reveal a tall, navy-blue creature.
‘It wakes.’ A mouth of bizarre mandibles snapped in the centre of a face that reminded John of a fish he’d seen at Billingsgate market. The rest of its body was scorpion-like.
‘Please join me.’ The huge beast talked to a smaller, grey scorpion-like animal that scuttled into a dark corner, leaving a trail of electric-blue light in the air.
‘Our first human.’
The blue animal’s legs scraped and clicked against the floor as it walked over and leant over John.
Without warning, a claw punched the table and flipped John up to a standing position. His body tensed against the ties that held him. He was face to face with this thing, whose enormous creaking shell glistened and pulsated before him.
Stay strong, John told himself.
‘And I sense I am your first Brakari?’ the creature asked.
So this was the enemy they would face, John thought. He nodded, trying not to show his fear.
‘What’s this? He bares his teeth… anger? Defence?’
Stay calm, John told himself, no point in angering it.
<
br /> ‘A smile perhaps?’ The Brakari rocked back on its legs. ‘I amuse you, do I?’ It turned to the smaller creature. ‘Do I look amusing to you, Captain Millok?’
‘No, General.’
It snapped back to John. ‘Then what is it that amuses you… what is your name?’
‘John Greene.’
You must stay strong, he told himself. If you’re the first human they’ve seen you must show these Brakari what great warriors we are. They must be scared of us.
‘Well,’ the inquisitor snorted. ‘I am General Panzicosta of the Brakari army and I intend to find out every detail about your little army before we destroy it.’
‘I can tell you what I know but it won’t be of any use,’ John replied. ‘We’re changing all the time.’ He thought of Mihran and Lavalle and tried to emulate their arrogance and style. ‘Many dangerous adaptations and defences – unbreakable by any army.’
Panzicosta’s mouth-pieces stretched and his short pincer arm gestured at the table. ‘Good, good.’ He seemed unperturbed by John’s boasts. ‘I’m sure that will all be useful and help the Brakari cause. Look around you, John Greene.’ He pointed at a long white arm hanging from the wall next to a dog-like head. ‘And here.’ Panzicosta pointed to the other side of the room.
John strained to turn his head to see wooden tables lining the walls covered in machinery and metallic objects that reminded him of the gear Crossley had taken from the dead robots near the castle. A metallic box that twinkled with tiny lights looked damaged where someone had broken into it and, next to it, a group of marbles reflected iridescent shades against the wall.
‘Others have come before you and all have been broken.’ Panzicosta stalked over to a table and grabbed the metal box in a claw. ‘The technology held in this allowed us to enslave the Lutamek.’ He cast the box back, scattering the coloured marbles. ‘And these Sorean shields, ingenious in deflecting any attack, are virtually useless now we understand their workings.’
John fought to find a suitable reply. How could his friends fight against an army of monsters like this with the weapons it had at its disposal?
‘You still won’t defeat us,’ John said and clenched his jaw.
‘Yes, you have spirit, I like that. Now… as entertaining as I find this, it’s time I learnt a little about human anatomy.’ He raised a long, thin pincer with a cutting edge. ‘I have always enjoyed dissecting animals with internal skeletons.’
***
The snaking line of soldiers had wound its way through the barren desert for three hours after leaving Peronicus-Rax’s behemoth tents. Euryleia had walked in a comfortable silence alongside Mata, but had been sent ahead to divine for water.
‘Althorn’s scouting for shelter,’ Euryleia heard Crossley tell Bowman.
She turned to where a hazy green line lay smudged against the horizon and felt her stomach tighten. Was Lavalle still alive? She controlled a pang of guilt. It was his decision to go after John; she hadn’t forced him. Anyway, he wasn’t the man he claimed to be – he was the Black Sword: the killer of unarmed men and innocents.
When had he ever claimed to be anything but a soldier? another voice in Euryleia’s head asked. All soldiers kill.
No. She pushed the thought away. He let me down.
And yet you miss him.
‘Euryleia,’ Li called out and moved up through the line.
‘Yes,’ Euryleia snapped.
‘I need to talk to you about adaptations.’
‘Ah, yes. The amnesty.’ Euryleia didn’t like talking to Li when she had her visor down. Who knew what she was really thinking when all you could see was a warped reflection of your own face?
‘It makes sense after Crossley hid his, and we need every advantage,’ Li said.
Euryleia nodded but kept her eyes fixed ahead. How old was Li? She had to be ten years younger than her, yet she talked to her like she was her mother.
‘So, have you had any changes? Any new skills or feelings?’ Li asked.
Other than wanting to smash your visor with my fist? Euryleia thought, but stifled her anger, worried Mihran was listening to her mind. All these bizarre changes were hard to get used to.
‘No, nothing new. I heal quickly, but everyone heals fast here.’
‘Yes.’ Li dragged the word out like she always did when she was concentrating on something else.
Euryleia bristled. ‘And you? Have you got any new skills?’
‘Nothing of any use,’ Li answered in her monotone voice. ‘The sensors in my visor have picked up new frequencies that allow me to manipulate micro-particles.’
Euryleia kept silent. She didn’t want to sound ignorant, but hadn’t understood a word.
‘I can move pieces of dirt about,’ Li explained. ‘I’ll keep experimenting with it.’
Euryleia tutted and pointed at the line ahead. ‘Why are we stretched out like this? It’s dangerous – anyone can pick us off or divide us.’
‘Peronicus-Rax suggested it.’
‘One night of shelter and we trust him?’
‘Mihran does,’ Li said, ‘plus he gave us some valuable intelligence.’
‘Such as?’ Euryleia asked.
Li pressed a button on her helmet and her visor flipped open. ‘He knows where the silver gates are.’
‘And we’re heading in the right direction?’ Euryleia asked.
Li nodded and Euryleia saw a man stumble up ahead. There were more immediate things to worry about.
‘The stony ground is taking a toll on our footwear and the injured are struggling,’ she said.
‘We’re getting low on food as well,’ Li said.
Euryleia glanced at Li, then back at the horizon. She looked genuinely concerned. ‘And then we fight.’ She was missing her horse almost as much as she missed having Lavalle to talk to and laugh with.
‘An army marches on its stomach,’ Li said.
‘Who said that?’ Euryleia asked.
‘A French general many centuries before my time.’
‘What is French?’ Euryleia asked.
Their eyes met and Li gave a little smile, making Euryleia smile in return.
‘What a ridiculous situation we’re in,’ Li said.
‘Yes,’ Euryleia sighed. ‘Forced to fight under the leadership of men.’ She shook her head.
‘Well, Mihran has a remarkable military mind.’
‘Really?’
Li nodded. ‘It’s part of his adaptation – he’s memorised every piece of tactical military text in my memory banks and taken details from every battle we’ve passed.’
‘To what benefit?’ Euryleia asked.
‘He’ll use the models – or predictions – for whatever situation we find ourselves in.’
Euryleia raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s good in theory, but in the madness of battle how will each fighter know where to go and who to attack?’
Li shrugged. ‘I asked the same thing and he said he’s working on it.’
Euryleia shook her head. Back home, her people chose their war leaders on merit and fighting ability: man or woman. Experience was key but strength of mind, foresight and adaptability in the face of defeat were worth a dozen strong, armed men.
‘I have analysed the battles too,’ Li’s voice was quieter now, ‘and found interesting connections.’
Euryleia raised her head. ‘Such as?’
‘In our group, we are all land-based fighters. No navy or air, space or cyber. It’s the same for every other species that has fought here. All land-based.’
‘Does that mean there are other human soldiers out there?’ Euryleia asked.
‘Possibly. Or someone wants us to stay on the ground.’ She flipped her visor back down. ‘Listen, I need to ask the others about their adaptations. Mihran wants a report soon.’
Euryleia nodded and Li sped off. She had seen Delta-Six fly from the obelisk hill but she had never seen a battle on water or in the air and the thought bewildered her, just as the foreign weapons of
her new comrades did. Lavalle was straightforward compared to the rest: a strong man with a deadly weapon. One extra pair of eyes in battle and a sword she could trust. It had all been said in their first look. But now the trust was gone, what was left?
What did she expect? the other voice asked. Did he have to tell her everything? Wasn’t it better to leave some things unknown?
Euryleia looked ahead to where the vanguard had stopped. By the time she was within earshot, orders were being delivered.
‘Althorn says an enemy is approaching,’ Mihran said. ‘We need natural protection. Li, I want two flanks of projectile launchers. I’ll stay with the main army and command in the absence of Samas and Lavalle.’
Euryleia slipped her bow from her shoulder.
‘The enemy number fifteen and are large and armoured with metal casing,’ Althorn said. ‘That’s all I saw before–’
‘Wait a minute,’ Crossley cut in. ‘Large and armoured with metal casing? Did they look like the bodies around the castle?’
Althorn shrugged. ‘Possibly, I…’
Li tapped furiously on her wrist pad and projected an image of a large robot.
Althorn stared at the picture and rubbed his beard. ‘Yes, they could be the same.’
‘Seriously?’ Crossley had his hands on his hips. ‘We’re going to fight fifteen gigantic robots?’ He looked around the group. ‘Shouldn’t we try something else? Like running away?’
Althorn squinted at Crossley. ‘I have followed them for some time and they have tracked us with ease – we won’t be able to outrun them.’
Euryleia looked to the horizon, where a thin cloud of dust was building.
‘Come on.’ Crossley was red-faced. ‘We must be able to do something. If we had explosives, I could knock up a few mines but… Li: surely your laser rifle will make easy work of them, right? Like with those blue lobster things?’
‘I’ll do my best but–’
‘Where’s Mata?’ Crossley turned around.
‘Enough!’ Mihran turned to the horizon, where Euryleia could now see dark shapes. ‘We must stand and fight. Without victory we will never leave this land.’ He pointed to a series of red rocks that rose out of the yellow earth like tombstones. ‘We take shelter here.’
