Refuge: The Arrival: Book 2

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Refuge: The Arrival: Book 2 Page 19

by Doug Dandridge


  Speaking of the devil and he appeared, the Chieftain Priest walking into the firelight and up to the men. “Have you made a decision, friend Paul,” said the Dwarf in his own language. “Tomorrow your people will be out of our territory. Will you accompany them, or will you stay and study the ways of the Goddess?”

  “I will stay,” said Paul with a smile, looking over at his friend.

  “That is very good news,” said the Dwarf with a return smile. “The Goddess will be overjoyed. You understand that the training will be tough.”

  “It always is,” said Baurieth, nodding his head. “I have found in the past that anything worthwhile is difficult.”

  “The Goddess chose well,” said Girison.

  “We will miss you, my friend,” said Schmidt, holding up a hand that Paul clasped.

  “We have a night of drinking before morning,” said Baurieth with a smile. “We will say our goodbyes then.”

  “And what will your Lutheran Priest father think of you going Pagan?”

  “My father was a practical man,” said Baurieth after a moment’s thought. “He would say something about being in Rome.”

  “I have not heard of that saying,” said Girison, looking at the human. “Perhaps I will learn as much from you as you from me.”

  “I am sure of it,” said Baurieth with a laugh. “I am sure of it. Confusion to our enemies.”

  “What a wonderful toast,” said the Gimikran. “Confusion to our enemies,” he said, holding out his cup.

  “Confusion to our enemies,” said Schmidt, pushing his cup against the other two.

  “Just before we kill the bastards,” said Baurieth with a smile.

  * * *

  General Zachary Taylor grunted as he looked at the map that intelligence had laid out for his perusal this morning. They had been working through the night to finish this presentation, and the General could tell that a lot of work had gone into it. It was useful information. The question was, was it information that he really wanted to acknowledge? But whether he wanted to or not, it was the facts as far as they knew.

  “So as you can see, Mein General,” finished the young Hauptman, slapping the map with a pointer, “the area of control has been shrinking from day to day, and will continue to shrink until our laws no longer hold sway over any part of this world.”

  Taylor looked closely at the map, which the corps cartography section had drawn with as much detail as possible given their lack of satellite photos of this world. The multi colored lines denoting different days showed how the effect of Earth laws had shrunk from day to day. Today’s line was at most out to a hundred and fifty kilometers from the valley. And the red line indicating three days hence was in a small oval that was enclosed by the mountain walls of the stronghold.

  “So we’re reaching the end of our tether out there on the fringes,” said Taylor, shaking his head. “The tether is getting shorter day by day. And this is being caused by the natural laws of the planet overcoming the what? The belief of our own people in the natural laws?”

  “It is partially that, Mein General,” agreed the Hauptman, his blue eyes meeting those of the ranking officer. “And as more of our people withdraw into the valley, the preponderance of that belief moves with them. But eventually no amount of belief will allow our weapons and equipment to continue to function.”

  “So I have to order our forces to retreat ahead of your projections?” said that ranking officer. “Or I risk their going into combat with systems that will not work as designed? And risk the forces being overwhelmed and destroyed by the enemy?”

  “That about sums it up, Mein General,” agreed the Hauptman, nodding his head.

  “Thank you very much, Hauptman,” said Taylor, getting to his feet and shaking the man’s hand. “I will take your information into consideration when making my plans for the next couple of days. And please leave me a copy of that map.”

  The man nodded his head while a slight smile played on his face. Taylor walked from the tent, his eyes looking over the almost finished bunker complex that he had been promised would be ready the next day. Sergeant Major Cliff Jackson followed the General out into the brightening morning, his own face a study in concern.

  “We knew it was coming,” said Taylor, walking toward the mess tent where the smells of breakfast drew men and women from all over the compound. Taylor returned a number of salutes with abbreviated ones of his own, while the senior NCO chewed his lip in thought.

  “So what do we do now?” asked the NCO, walking beside his Commander into the tent and heading for the line. “Do we pull back the offensive and go over to the defense?”

  “I don’t think we can continue to push forward,” said Taylor, looking up toward the serving line. It had always been his policy to not use his rank to move to the front of the line. If it was necessary to get food fast he would have a mess orderly fetch it to the table.

  “Be a mess if more units got into a fire fight and had the fire withdrawn from their weapons,” agreed the Sergeant Major, nodding. “That German unit sure got a new asshole chewed out of it.”

  “So we fall back to within the projected lines of functionality,” said Taylor, his brow furrowing with worried thought. “We hit anything that comes in at us, hard. Then fall back to the next day’s line. But we continue to hit hard with no thought of conservation of ammo. I still want to inflict maximum casualties on the enemy before they get within sight of this valley.”

  “Sounds good,” said Jackson, smiling. “I want to hurt the enemy. But I don’t want to fritter away our own strength for no return.”

  “Don’t worry about that Cliff,” said the General when they approached the line and grabbed their trays. “The usual, men,” he said to the servers as he put his tray on the table. “I know we will get no more reinforcements. So I’m not about to fritter them away. But unless I hurt the enemy some more I don’t see a lot of hope for the near future. Especially with that really big force marching up the road toward us. And maybe some more behind them.”

  “So what do you want to do about that really big force?” asked Cliff, pointing to the eggs he wanted put on his plate.

  “They’re just about up to our reality barrier aren’t they?” asked the General, reaching for his heaping full plate. The Sergeant Major nodded. “Well, what say we use the biggest boy in our arsenal to put paid to them.”

  * * *

  Dr. Vogel Kreigel had ridden before, in his many travels of the world as a zoologist. He had especially enjoyed spending the day in the saddle on the Pampas of Argentina. He knew that horseback riding was incredibly tiring, and left the posterior of one not accustomed to riding in a sorry state. And he had not ridden for many years before these last days. That said, he had never experienced anything like the riding of a unicorn.

  The gait of the beast was unbelievable, as smooth as riding a car over the autobahn. The animal was also very intelligent, and seemed to go out of her way to make sure her rider was as comfortable as possible. They even smelled better than regular horses, having almost a light perfume of flowers about their fur. He had yet to see them in combat, but he knew that they would perform in ways that would shame the best normal equine. Altogether, they were the second most wondrous beasts he had seen in the last week.

  First place was reserved for the wolves he had come to this world with. He was still amazed at their abilities. Most amazing of all was the ability of the canines to link with his mind and transmit information to him. He could see through their eyes, hear with their ears, and most wonderful of all, smell with their noses. Right now he was watching the entrance to the valley from the cover of heavy brush, the wolf totally unnoticed by any of the human sentries.

  The image was very clear, as good as the acuity of his own eyes, though the colors were washed out a little. He could hear the sounds of engines off in the distance, and the conversation of humans close by, clear enough for him to understand. And there were enough scents in the air to let him know that human
s and people who weren’t human were near, as well as a multitude of machines.

  What a recon asset they are, he thought, marveling at all of the information that was coming over the link from the wolf, as well as the sights, sounds and smells of several other of the beasts. Even the Elves don’t have the range of hearing and smell that they have.

  A sentry seemed to be looking right at the wolf, and made to move to another position, probably to get a better angle on whatever he thought was hiding in the brush. The wolf sent out waves of mental images, willing the human to not see him. The soldier shook his head for a moment, scratched his ear, and turned away, clearly having forgotten his suspicions. Another useful trait of the wolf, being able to call upon the abilities of his brethren and magnify his own psionic powers.

  “I do not like the way these people are looking at us,” said High Commander Fenris Hallanta from his side, sitting on his own mount. The next bend of the road would see them to the entrance of the human stronghold, and many of the humans on the road were staring at the Ellala with undisguised looks of fear or anger.

  “From what we have heard, they have not had positive contacts with people of your race,” replied the German biologist, gesturing toward a group of pedestrians heading toward the valley who had been moved aside for the passage of the Ellala regiment. Several hummers led the regiment of Ellala, and a couple to the rear, their American soldiers ensuring that no one panicked and took action against the new allies through ignorance.

  “It was not us,” said the Commander with a frown, his quick eyes darting around to take in all the sights of the refugee column. From minivans to large trucks, the vehicles were on the side of the road to make way for the Ellala. There were few military vehicles in evidence, most of them being deployed against the enemies who might still threaten the humans.

  “While we know that,” said Kreigel, nodding, “and the word has been disseminated as much as possible, I am afraid that many of my people think with their emotions. When they see you they think of fireball throwing monsters who want to enslave them. Or even worse, eat the souls which they believe are theirs alone.”

  “Such a foolish notion,” said the Ellala, his eyes locking with the human’s. “We know on this world that our souls, even if they are us, are the playthings of the Gods. It is fortunate if we reach our reward. There are too many factors outside our control for that to be guaranteed.”

  “That is not the view on my world,” said the German, thinking again about his own lapse of faith. “According to most religions on our planet, if one follows the laws of the faith, they are guaranteed a place in paradise.”

  “What about fate?” asked the Ellala Commander, his eyes narrowing. “We believe that one is fated to one’s end. No matter the life you live, you end where you are destined to end.”

  “We have some like that as well,” agreed the scientist. “Some that say our names are written in a book of life and no matter what we do, we end where we are placed by that book. But the great majority believe that a man’s deeds through life determine his fate in the afterlife.”

  “That is a most, comforting, philosophy,” said the Ellala. “One that I would like to know more about.”

  “I am sure that there will be many among my people who would be glad to lead you down that path,” said the German, watching as the soldiers in the first hummer talked with the sentries at the valley entrance. The entrance itself was being fitted with sturdy wooden gates, while gate towers were being erected on the high berms that continued in both directions toward the steep mountain walls several kilometers to either side. While he watched one of the soldiers came running back to him and stopped at his side, looking up at the scientist.

  “You can bring out the wolves, Doctor Kreigel,” said the Sergeant in accented German. “The men at the gate are prepared for their appearance, so they shouldn’t be any trouble.”

  Kreigel nodded his head and sent out the thought. People gasped and cried out as the six huge canine shapes seemed to materialize out of nowhere, slinking lankly out of the brush. A few humans grabbed objects and one raised a pistol. The scientist was about to yell out when all of the humans seemed to calm considerably, and he marveled again at the ability of the canines to affect people with their mental emanations.

  “They’re so big,” said one of the soldiers by the gate, while other soldiers rushed to explain to the civilians that the large wolves were friends and allies. The scientist nodded to the Sergeant and kneed his mount gently. The unicorn moved toward the gate, wolves ranging around her and the regiment of Ellala following behind.

  Beyond the gate the road rose up into the valley proper, and Krieger gasped as he saw the long, wide valley floor ahead. There were patches of forested land, and other large patches of cleared land, with a river in the center that wound away into the distant mists.

  “What a wonderful location to raise a kingdom,” said Fenris, his head moving constantly as he took in the valley. “Defensible, with lots of room to grow food and subjects.”

  Yes, thought the scientist, looking over the large open area between high mountain peaks. Maybe fate was working after all, to send us to this place.

  * * *

  Staff Sergeant Antonio Rivera cursed under his breath while the drops of sweat rolled down his face, one making a beeline into an eye. It really wasn’t that hot out on the side of the hill. But it was sweaty work trying to jury rig an eight inch nuclear shell to perform the job of a nuclear demolition device. That had not been the designed purpose of the ordinance. It had been designed to be fired from an eight inch gun, to detonate according to a preprogrammed flight path. But all of the eight inch guns, as far as Rivera knew, were still on Earth, in another universe.

  So the short Cuban-American was squatting on the side of the hill, reaching into the hole they had dug for the weapon, into the firing mechanism of the device, wiring in a homemade radio trigger. And listening to the echoing sounds of firing that indicated there was fighting going on in the next valley.

  Sure hope this shit works, thought the Sergeant, twisting a wire and putting a cap over the join. Won’t have a chance to fix it if it doesn’t. It would have been so much easier if they had some of the made for purpose nuclear demolition devices. But again, if any existed they were back on earth. Rivera finished the connection and then screwed the cap of the round back into place.

  “OK,” said Rivera, standing up and moving back from the weapon. “Cover her up.”

  The small Sergeant brushed the dirt off of his knees as he watched the larger privates of his detail shovel dirt and rock into the hole. When they were done a Special Forces Sergeant saw to making sure the hole could not be seen by an observer. Rivera had to admit that the man knew his business. He knew where the hole was, but couldn’t tell that it had been made after the special ops man was through with it.

  “OK,” he said to his detail when they were done. “Let’s get.”

  The men made their way down the hillside to their waiting truck. The truck took several attempts to start, which started the Sergeant to worrying again. He had been told about the reality barrier, which they were near the edge of. He only hoped that the weapon would keep on thinking it was on Earth, right up to the moment they lit it up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You sure you want to go into that thing?” asked Kurt von Mannerheim, looking into the dark hole that was the entrance of the largest of the step pyramids.

  “First this one,” said the dwarven Warpriest, Garios na Gonron, nodding, “then the others.” The Priest gestured at the other two smaller but still large structures. “Until we do this valley will not be truly safe, as these are the entrance for evil things.”

  “What about the other tunnels to this, Underdark?” asked Jackie, looking back at the mountains tens of kilometers away.

  “Other Dimikran help your people to fortify those entrances,” said the Priest with a smile. “They will make sure none of the dark peoples come that way into the
valley.”

  “Dark People?” asked Kurt, thinking of the darker peoples on Earth, and wondered if such prejudices also held here.

  “The Kidimikran, the dark Dwarves, the greatest enemy of my people,” said the Priest of Grimmoire, sighing. “And the Dekefin, the dark Elves, enemies of all.”

  “How do we recognize these enemies?” asked Jackie, her own face showing her concern that people with dark skins might be considered evil on this world.

  The Kidimikran look much as my people, but with skins of jet. The Dekefin look much as the Ellala, from which they sprang, and also have skins of black.”

  “Are all black skinned people considered evil here?” asked Levine, giving Jackie a look of concern, even though she was light skinned as far as African Americans went. But some of the other Americans were very dark skinned.

  “Not at all,” said the Dwarf with another clumsy nod. “There have been good people among those races I have named, though it is still good to be sure of them on meeting.”

  “And how do you do that?” asked Levine.

  “We use our God sight and look at them,” said the Priest as if he was explaining something to a child. “Then it is clear to us, as it was clear to us when we looked at you.”

  “So essentially all of the dark races are evil, unless there is an exceptional one among them?” said Jackie, a frown on her face.

  “No,” said the Priest with a smile. “The La’mooricans are a good people. Worshipers of Law, like mine.”

  “And what species are they?” asked Levine.

  “Why, your own,” said the Priest. “One of the four races of humans on the planet. Black, white, red and yellow.”

  “Like the ones on the frescoes in the plateau?” asked Marcus Jordan, walking up to the conversing group.

  Kurt had to admit that the Captain made a splendid martial figure, with his combination of plate and chain armor, the hilt of an expensive sword jutting over his shoulder, M16 hanging from its strap.

  “Those are the ones, friend Marcus,” said the Dwarf. “A fine and noble people. And this was once the capital of one of their kingdoms.”

 

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