The King's War

by Andrew Stanek

  “Ever won one of those?” Old Pete said with a sly smile.

  The soldier gave him a cool look. “I’m telling you old man, that ceasefire isn’t real. Don’t you go to the town meetings? The rebels and the Black Force are a bunch of rats and snakes. Any moment - and I absolutely mean that - at any moment, the rebels are going to attack again. The invasion is coming. We have to be ready for it. We all have to be ready for it,” he added, seeing Nate listening to their conversation. Nate nodded emphatically.

  Old Pete was having none of it.

  “When was the last time you youngsters had a real battle?” he demanded.

  “Naval command has battles all the time,” reported a second soldier, walking up to the bar. “I heard just last week one of our dreadnoughts sank a rebel destroyer. It was on the radio. You must have heard about it.”

  “I don’t have a radio,” croaked Old Pete. “What with the blackouts you can only listen to the thing a quarter of the time anyway.”

  “The factories need the power, old man,” the first soldier said. “They need it to make guns and ammunition. What? Do you expect us to fight the Black Force with our bare hands when they come? Or are you going to tell us that in your day you fought rebels without a rifle?”

  “You bet we did,” Old Pete shot back. “Once you saw the enemy, you continued to fight even if you didn’t have a gun. Did I ever tell you how I lost my arm?”

  And from there he launched into a meandering story about his own experiences in the war, of choking a dozen rebels to death and saving his whole unit, which the soldiers rolled their eyes at but Nate listened to with zeal. Will listened half-heartedly - he was only here because he had nothing better to do, and hoped to catch some kind of snippet about airplanes. Martin didn’t listen at all. Instead he took out one of his books and began to read it. It had plenty of diagrams of organs and cells in it, so Will could pretty well guess what it was.

  They stayed for about two hours, until Old Pete had finally exhausted his war stories and the younger soldiers had told all theirs - about the rebels they spied in the forest and the great feats of bravery that they’d accomplished in the King’s name. Eventually, when it got late enough that they had to be getting home, Will and Martin finally roused Nate and led him out the door.

  Outside there was a man whom Will had never seen before. He was looking at his car with a puzzled expression; an ominous steam was rising from the engine.

  A soldier approached the man and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Need some spare parts, buddy?” he asked. “I can get them for you for cheap. Army surplus. Or if you need gas, I can get that for you too.”

  The soldier gestured to a nearby army truck, apparently loaded with spare parts.

  “Thanks, but I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” the man said, looking confused.

  “Well, I can’t help you there,” the soldier said, scratching his head.

  “Let me take a look at it,” Will suddenly interjected. He approached the car and looked under the hood.

  “The engine stalled,” Will announced after a brief inspection. “There’s nothing wrong with it. You just need to start it again.” He took the detachable crank from the car’s trunk and applied it to the engine. Soon, the engine turned over and roared to life.

  “Thanks a lot, kid,” the car’s owner said.

  “Don’t mention it. You know, these days they make cars with electric starters. You don’t need to crank them and they’re a lot easier to start. Most new cars built in the capital have them.”

  “Really?” the man asked with surprise. “Well, that’s really something. Isn’t technology amazing? I doubt I could get my hands on something newfangled like that, though.” He got back into his car. “Thanks a lot, kid. You have a good one.”

  Will waved goodbye to the man as he drove away. The soldier looked as if he was going to say something, then shrugged and walked back to his truck.

  “Who was that guy?” Martin asked curiously. “No one in our village owns a car, do they?”

  “Nah. Some of the farmers do, but he didn’t look like a farmer. He was probably just a guy from the capital visiting family.”

  “You’re getting really good at this repair stuff,” Martin continued, but he never finished his sentence. Before he could say another word, a loud explosion rocked the peace of the village. Gunshots echoed through the air.

  “Is it a rebel attack?” Nate said wildly. “Is it the invasion?”

  Will looked around frantically. He could hear the gunshots were coming from the residential sector - from where he was going. A prickle of fear ran down his spine. He tore off in the direction of the shooting, with Nate and Martin running after him. They charged through the market district without a second look at the stalls, past the railroad tracks and the station, and into the little cluster of houses that most everyone in the village called home. Will stopped dead.

  His house was in ruins. The roof had collapsed and the whole house seemed to have imploded. Several armed soldiers were standing outside of his house, along with the village mother, Ms. Diane. Two more soldiers were dragging a pair of bodies out of the building. Will fell to his knees. Nate charged up behind him and stopped at the sight of the destroyed home. He gripped Will’s shoulder tightly.

  One of the soldiers saw Will and stepped forward uncertainly.

  “Should we-” he began.

  Ms. Diane thrust her arm out and shook her head.

  “It’s alright,” she said. “It’s my responsibility. I’ll tell him.” She knelt down. “Will, I’m sorry. It was a rebel raid. Your parents are - they’re dead.” She hugged him.

  Martin gaped at the destruction. Will could only stare.

  Nate’s grip tightened painfully on Will’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry Will,” he said fiercely. “We’ll get them back for this.”

  Chapter 2

  It was the day after graduation, while he was on his way to the weekly town meeting, that Will saw it. His eyes were turned skyward, as they always were, when a sudden, distant roaring sound - like the boom of artillery but a million times longer and drawn out, continuous, deep, and resounding, split the sky. Then suddenly it had appeared in the air, gleaming and metal, streaking upwards with unfathomable speed. Its sleek shape resembled that of an arrow; there was even fletching around the tail. Fire spewed from the aft of the construct as it zipped up into the clouds, slowly at first, then faster and faster until its velocity almost defied Will’s comprehension, and then it was gone.

  For a full minute or so, Will was left staring up after it, even though it had faded into nothing more than a sparkling morning star. It had not been an airplane, but he was fairly certain that it was something very much like one. He was not the only one who had seen it. Others had stopped and stood stock-still, watching as the thing had accelerated and disappeared. Some, like him, looked up for a full minute after it had vanished.

  “What was that?” Nate Larson asked.

  Will started. He had forgotten that Nate was with him.

  “I don’t know,” Will said cautiously. “But I think it was something the army launched.”

  “Wow,” the other replied, obviously impressed. “So the army has something like that, huh?”

  “I guess,” Will said hastily. “Come on. Let’s get to the meeting or we’re gonna be late.”

  There was one building in the village - other than a few of the warehouses - that was bigger than both the canteen and the train station. It was the town hall. Situated just across from the canteen and built out of sleekly polished wood in a solid concrete foundation, it was easily the most recognizable building in the village. The red, green, and gold national flag flew from either side of it and from the roof. Every single week, every person from the whole village converged on this building for the meeting. On off days, some of the village wives would meet in it periodically, but it otherwise went almost unused.

  Will and Nate drifted inside along wit
h a flood of other people and rapidly located Martin and Harry, near the back. Harry looked like he had just come from the field. There was dirt up to his ankles (he had obviously tried to shake off a little before entering the building but basically failed) and Martin who, for once, could be seen without his books. Will sank down in the chair next to Martin. He couldn’t help but notice that Martin seemed to be in a state of extreme nervousness. Martin was wringing his hands and his eyes were fixed on the vacant stage, near the familiar blond picture of King Edward, quietly mouthing something to himself that Will could not hear. When Will sat down, Martin jumped as though electrified.

  “I hope they let me go,” Martin said instantly.

  “What?” Will asked.

  “To the capital. I hope my scores were good enough on the national exam. I want to go to the capital and study to become a doctor. But I’m not sure they were good enough. They’re going to announce today who’s going to go... I heard - my dad said - that you did pretty well on the practical exams, Will. Maybe we’ll be able to go together.” He gave a faint smile.

  Will gave him a reassuring nod. “Sure, we’ll go together.” He looked at his other friends. “You two won’t be lonely without us, will you? If we end up in the capital?” Nate and Harry looked at each other.

  Harry shrugged. “It’s not a matter of lonely. I’ve got my folks and I’ve got the village farm to tend to.”

  “And I already know what I’m going to do,” Nate said calmly. “I don’t think I’m going to be sticking around here for long either.”

  They lapsed into a silence after that as Ms. Diane, the village mother, walked out onto stage. A few of the local notables and a handful of soldiers from the base seated themselves on the chairs behind her. Ms. Diane approached the podium. On one side of her there was the flag of Vermark, the same, red, green, and gold that they’d seen on the outside of the building. On the other side there was a picture of the King, followed by pictures of his royal ancestors.

  Ms. Diane cleared her throat. “All hail King James Edward, Rightful Ruler and Protector of Us All.”

  Everyone rose in unison, their cacophonous voices echoing, “All hail King James Edward, Rightful Ruler and Protector of Us all.”

  Then everyone sat - except of course for Ms. Diane, who remained behind the podium. She cleared her throat.

  “I have much to say this week about the War. Our brave soldiers have continued to toil and struggle against the insidious rebels and the Black Force. This week there was a battle in the forest in which our brave soldiers repelled an unprovoked attack from the rebel forces across the ceasefire line in the southeast. After an exchange of machine gun and artillery fire, twelve rebels were killed. None of our soldiers were killed or wounded. The good offices of the King strongly condemn this act of obvious and flagrant aggression in breach of the peace, and commend the valor of our soldiers in repelling the attack. Naval command also says that their dreadnoughts sank an enemy frigate off the coast, which violated the integrity of our territorial waters. The War Office also reminds us that these rebel maneuvers are a prelude to a full-scale invasion by enemy forces. By attaining victory today, we have made the rebels and the Black Force think twice about invading the sovereign territory of Vermark, but it is obvious that our enemies’ evil intent remains.” She paused, looking significantly out across the entire town’s population. Her wrinkled face and eyes drifted from one person to the next. “Just as our brave soldiers are toiling and risking their lives in the face of the enemy, we too need to continue to sacrifice for the sake of the King’s War. Our soldiers rely on us for their rations, and the war office has asked us that we provide an extra hundred grams of corn per villager per day. Let’s mount a ‘full attack’ of our own by meeting this quota and making sure our brave soldiers have the food they need!”

  No sooner had she finished speaking than the hall erupted into cheers, some people clapping, stomping, making other noises of all descriptions. Will was clapping loudly purely for the sake of blending in, Nate was clapping a little more enthusiastically, Martin a little less so. Only Harry, with his hands crossed over his dirty overalls, didn’t make a noise.

  “What’s up?” Will asked him as the noise died down.

  Harry shrugged. “A hundred grams a day per person doesn’t sound like much, but you know, it adds up. That’s an extra 3 kg a month per person... 36.5 kilos a year per person if they keep asking for it all year round. It sounds like we’re all gonna be spending our Sundays on the village farm again. Either that or eat less ourselves.”

  “We’ve got to,” Nate replied, across Will’s lap. “You heard Ms. Diane. The soldiers need the food.”

  Will didn’t doubt this. He had noticed more soldiers coming to the village, offering to barter or buy food - but he didn’t have time to say so. As the general din died down, Ms. Diane moved to the next item on her list.

  “Additionally,” she called out, “I’m sure you’ve all noticed the increasing number of blackouts we’ve been having in the village. We have discovered that this is not due to a shortage in power, but rather because of the poor state of repair of the power lines running through our village. I have spoken to the Colonel and the army electricians have agreed to come out to repair these high-voltage electrical wires which should give us a more reliable supply of power. However, he has asked for our help in return with several of his problems. The road running to the army base is generally in a poor state of repair itself. It’s filled with potholes and cracks caused by the heavy rains this past spring. In addition to being inconvenient for the army, this is shameful - both to our village and our nation. We’re going to go repair the road, this Sunday. Everyone should retrieve tools from the equipment warehouse...”

  She continued to talk, but Will could no longer hear her as Martin shook his head and started to whisper.

  “If they really want to fix the roads, they should fix the road leading to the capital. That’s the important road. Not everything comes by train, you know.”

  “Almost everything comes by train,” Will said, but he’d said it more to play the devil’s advocate than because he’d really believed it. He didn’t have a car but he’d seen the way the bumps and potholes in the road could jostle a car from the capital, rocking the whole carriage this way and that. Some part of his mind vaguely wondered how often the suspension on those cars had to be replaced, how often they suffered cracked and damaged windows, how often the engine stalled from the bumps and the constant acceleration and deceleration and had to be cranked back to life, just as he’d done with the stranger’s car. The wear and tear must have been enormous.

  Ms. Diane, of course, did not mention any of this, or anything about the state of the road to the capital. She went on to talk about the poor state of the water infrastructure - the pipes that piped water from the river for the field irrigation trenches were leaking, and they needed to be replaced as well, which is what they would all be working on next Sunday. After much talk of tar slurry and pipe mending, she went on to the next point on her list.

  A man they had never seen before, an older man with thinning hair and filthy clothes, was dragged out onto the stage by two soldiers. His hands were bound. The tone of Ms. Diane’s voice radically changed as she introduced this man. Will knew what was coming next.

  “This man, Carl Garrett, has confessed to the heinous crime of stealing shipments of equipment from the train station - equipment that was being shipped to the front line for our soldiers’ use - and selling it for personal profit.”

  Despite the vagueness of the accusation, everyone in the town booed the man. Some stood and cupped their hands around their mouths as they articulated their condemnation against him; others stood and hurled things at him. Rocks, small bits of wood, a shoe or two, whatever was handy. One of the rocks clipped Garrett on the side of the head and he started to bleed. He did not try to avoid the barrage, but simply hung his head in shame.

  “The items he stole,” Diane continued, “inclu
de food rations, shovels, gasoline, fuel, spare parts, and other items. He has confessed fully, and we have decided that he will be banished to the mountains for his crimes.”

  Many in the crowd loudly cheered this sentence. The soldiers grabbed Garrett by the arms and paraded him off stage; more items were thrown as they went.

  “Who was that guy?” Will asked.

  “He worked on the trains,” Henry answered, his arms still crossed over his dirty overalls. “A coal-man or something. You know, he shoveled the coal into the engines. I guess he must have been able to get his hands on all that stuff when no one was looking.”

  “I had heard some of the soldiers talking about how a lot of stuff had been going missing or hadn’t arrived or something,” Nate said. He still made a habit of going to the canteen and listening to the soldiers banter every day, so if there were missing supplies, he would have heard about it. “I guess that Garrett guy must have been stealing them. It’s a good thing that they got rid of him.”

  There was no back door out of the town hall. Garrett reappeared in the wings, dragged by two soldiers, and was marched down the aisle of people on his way out. Many people leaned over to scream at him as he left the building. Some went as far as to strike him with whatever was handy, or their bare fists. Will watched in silence as the soldiers led him out of the building and into the back of a waiting truck. The engine turned over and the truck drove away - destined, he supposed, for the mountains, to which Garrett had been exiled.

  “Are there a lot of people up in the mountains?” Will asked.

  “I’ve heard about the Mountain People,” Martin advised him. “All the people who’ve been exiled, I guess. They must run a prison up there.”

  Will glanced out the town hall’s south-facing window, which looked out onto the mountains.