by T. C. Edge
“Stranger things have happened,” says Ellie gingerly as we leave the briefing and make our way back inside the mountain. “It sounds better than I thought it would.”
It does, but still, I can't help but let my mind slip back to the scattered visions I've been having. Blurred though the images are, things don't look good. I can only hope that I'm only seeing a small portion of the carnage, or some other battle far off.
It's a weak hope, but it's all I have.
Of course, our part in the affair will be to strike with the infantry as soon as any holes are punched. In such a situation a Watcher can be worth hundreds of soldiers. My only real concern is that they'll have several more than we do...
The day shoots by in a blur.
Hours disappear as fast as minutes on any regular day, not that I've had a regular day in a long time. The rush of activity remains manic all morning as the basic orders are passed down through the hierarchy to be delivered to each infantry and armoured unit. I can only imagine how frightened some of the people must be; parted from their families, surrounded by strangers, holding weaponry that they've only fired a handful of times. They're stepping towards their deaths and they know it. I can see it in their eyes.
Along with Ellie, with her newly discovered ability to inspire, and Athena, a rousing figure in her own right, we walk through from platoon to platoon, offering any words of comfort and support we can. Hardly any of the animosity towards me remains, but for a grumbling few who do nothing but stare. Most, it seems, have accepted their fate, caught up in the whirlwind of the last couple of days.
As I go, it barely registers on me any more how strange it must appear to an outsider; three young girls, barely adults, handing out wisdom as if they've been through it all a hundred times before.
The truth is, we haven't. We've faced our fair share of troubles and have seen combat, but nothing like this, nothing approaching this scale and magnitude. But as Watchers, people know we're without fear, cold and emotionless when we need to be, able to shut out everything and focus on the task at hand. It gives us all a power to spread strength with our words that others simply don't have.
So we use that power as well as we can. We spread out throughout the central chamber, lifting people up, shaking the fear from them, filling them with the belief that we can win. By the time several hours have passed, I've gone through the whole routine so many times I'm starting to believe it myself.
I shake my head and have a private chuckle.
If I can inspire even myself, I must be doing some good...
Soon, the afternoon shifts into gear, disappearing as quickly as the morning until the light begins to fade outside. By the time it brightens up again, the city will have shipped out down towards the valleys. The drums of war will have started to beat. People will have begun to fall.
A quiet starts to descend.
The preparations completed, the people begin to reflect, finding their families to say goodbye, perhaps for the last time. I see tears shed from corner to corner as fathers hug their children, wives kiss their husbands, siblings and dear friends embrace.
I turn to Ellie and Athena on either side of me, and we all nod at each other with eyes made out of cast iron. Then, from behind, Jackson appears, the same look on his face.
“The Master is about to give a speech,” he says.
On cue, a small procession begins to appear from the passageway leading to the Master's chamber. The Master himself, with Stein and Professor Lane alongside him. Then, marching behind, Generals Richter and Sharpe and my father, stepping in unison.
The crowd hushes as they go, reaching the centre of the Chamber where a small stage has been hastily erected. The Master climbs the handful of steps up onto it. The rest stand behind, hands clasped together in front of them.
Silence dawns. Everyone stares. The Master appears to take a deep breath to steady himself, before raising his hand and pointing towards the plateau outside.
“Out there, down beneath us,” he begins, his voice strong and clear, “is an army that has come here for one purpose, and one purpose alone...to destroy us. In a matter of hours, we will show them that we will not be cowed any longer. We will turn the tables. It is us who are going to destroy them!” he shouts.
As his voice echoes in the chamber, the people begin to cheer. Arms are raised and pumped, fists hitting air. Snarls and scowls litter the faces of usually placid people. People throw their arms over others' shoulders and hold on tight. I see solidarity. I see a collective sense of purpose.
The Master continues: “We are fighting for our lives. If we don't break the army down below, if we don't break free, we will all die. Look at the people next to you. Think about the people you love. You are fighting for them.”
More roars and cheers ring around the chamber, rocking its foundations.
“The Eden soldiers are fighting for nothing. Nothing but the will of a man they've never met, never seen, know nothing about. A man who's lust for power has brought us all to the brink. A man fighting for his wife is worth ten fighting for nothing. I'd take a woman fighting for her child over a dozen trained men dragged into a war they don't understand.
“Use that desperation. Use that passion. An animal is most dangerous when it's cornered. Augustus Knight has made a fatal error, and forced us up into this corner of the world. By tomorrow afternoon, he'll wish that he hadn't!”
The roar of the throng grows ever louder, building to a crescendo. Faces light up more fiercely than ever. An energy swirls around the place, setting my heart pumping, my breath rising. I turn to Ellie and Jackson and Athena and see them all brimming with the same fever.
The Master calls above the din, his voice rising and rising.
“We will defeat this army!” he shouts. “We will win this war! We will turn the tide of this nation!”
Soon, his words are buried amid the cacophony, fading into the background as the chamber shakes and rumbles. He allows several long moments before holding his hands up high into the air and calling for a hush. It takes some times for the noise to dampen enough for his words, now quieter, to be heard.
“In a few hours, we will begin our march down the mountain under cover of darkness. You all have your orders. You all know your roles. Now, it is time to rest, to reflect, and to spend any last moments you have with those you love. Hold them tight, and remember what you are fighting for. And pray,” he finishes, “that you get to hold them again.”
With that, he lets a silence fall, before stepping down from the stage and slowly making his way back towards his chamber. And in the crowd, faces of ferocity have grown more introverted, restrained by the thought of losing those they love, of never being able to see them again.
A calm descends, the chamber turning gentle, more subdued. People find those they care about once more, and settle in to rest in the few hours that remain before we strike out from the mountain for the final time.
I know, however, that for most no rest will come. That their bodies, filled with adrenaline and fear, will not find any space for sleep. That most will sit, primed and afraid, until the orders come from those above them. Orders to stand and march, and prepare to kill or be killed.
12 - Riding to War
I retire to my room for the final time with Ellie. Jackson heads next door. Athena departs to her own accommodation down another passage.
“Meet back in the chamber in two hours,” says Jackson.
“Yes, sir, Captain Kane,” says Ellie, saluting with a playful wink. It's good to see her so relaxed.
I don't intend to get any sleep. After the Master's speech, such a thing would be impossible.
“It was oddly timed wasn't it,” I say to Ellie as we each settle on our beds.
“What?”
“The Master's speech. I mean, surely it would have been better to give the speech right before we go? You know, to rouse the troops.”
“I guess. Anyway, maybe he'll make another one in a few hours' time.”
<
br /> I shrug, but doubt it. More likely he wanted to fill people's minds with the idea of losing those they love, and give them sufficient time to say goodbye. It's the most powerful motivator of all, and something I'm well versed in. By the time we go into battle, each and every person here will be fighting for everything they have.
Whether it will make a difference is yet to be seen, but the Master has proven himself to be a canny operator, and very skilled at galvanising a crowd.
We don't talk a great deal as we sit and wait. A few comments are passed between us, both mostly we take time to ourselves to mentally prepare for what's to come. Having seen combat before a few times, we're well aware of the horrors of battle. This, however, will be a scale far beyond anything we've experienced.
Whenever I get the chance, I look into Ellie's eyes and note her expression. There's no fear there at all, none that I can see. Nothing fazes her any more. When faced with the most terrifying of horrors she will just grit her teeth and keep on going.
Yet for me, a fear builds as each minute passes. A fear that she'll be shot, be caught in an explosion, be killed. That the same will happen to Jackson, or my father, or Athena. That those I care about will die, and that the trauma that I've faced already, too many times for a girl my age, will be repeated.
I wonder how many times I'll have to face it again. Whether I'll ever grow hardened to it. My time in the Grid was intended to wipe that fear from me once and for all, but it failed. All it did was heighten it, make me more attuned to the desperation felt in the face of a loved one's death. And in the heat of battle, I know there will be little I can do to stop it.
With no way to tell the time in our room, both Ellie and I have grown quite adept at guessing how much time may have passed. When we think that the two hours are up, we wander back out into the main chamber, dressed in our military fatigues and fully equipped and armed, to see that we're only a couple of minutes out. Jackson and Athena are both already there, and come wandering over from a nearby group. It looks like they've been here for a while already, helping to calm the troops and answer any final questions they may have.
“We have another hour before we leave,” Jackson tells us. “I suggest we take the time helping out where we can. Go around and see what you can do, keep the morale up, OK.”
We all nod and set out on our own. I immediately find a small group sitting in silence, various ages among them. I move in and ask how they're doing, and quickly discover that they're a family. Husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. A group of about a dozen. And every one of them will be going to battle in a matter of hours.
Such a thing helps shape your own perspective. I have a handful who I care about, most of whom have special abilities or special training. To a man they can handle themselves, and are well prepared for what's to come.
But here, ahead of me right now, I see people who have an entire family to worry about. Each of them will know that, come the end of the fighting, most will no longer be standing. Perhaps none of them will be. It is a sobering thought.
Of course, I don't share it. I help to inspire them with my words as best I can. They smile nervously and nod, but I see some eyes that lack belief.
“Do you really believe that?” asks one of the older women. “That we can win this fight, like the Master says?”
“Of course I do,” I say quickly and firmly.
She takes my answer without further questioning, but her eyes tell a different story. Perhaps she's seen fighting before. Perhaps she was even one of the lucky ones who escaped the city many months ago now, when we were first attacked by the Eden army many miles away on the Deadlands. Perhaps she knows the might they offer, the threat they pose.
But, like me, she doesn't question things further because she knows there's no point. Only faith and courage will see us through. There is no space for negativity. It will only breed further fear, induce panic. And right now, such a thing can be a deadly as a bullet.
I move between other groups. Some continue to brim with energy, ready to enter the fray. Others manage to get some rest, reserving their energy as best they can. Others fidget with their outfits and weapons, going over things again and again to make sure they get it all right when it matters.
Soon, the time comes for the people to rise. The officers return to their battalions and platoons, families are once more separated. Ammunition is passed around, each person getting the same. The noise in the chamber begins to build again, the sound of thousands of makeshift soldiers readying themselves for battle.
As the final preparations are gone through, I gather with Drake, Jackson, Ellie and Athena over by the main exit onto the plateau. My father leads us outside, where the bright light of the moon and stars casts a cool glow onto the more experienced army of a thousand soldiers gathering into their units.
Jackson turns to us.
“I need to go,” he says.
He shakes Drake's hand firmly, hugs Ellie and Athena warmly, and then turns to me. Our hands meet as they once did back home, rubbing along each other in a sign of affection. Back then, it was all we could do, any further intimacy outlawed. Here, no such restrictions remain. He quickly pulls me in and kisses me more firmly and passionately than he ever has.
“I'll see you after,” he whispers.
Then he turns and rushes off to the front, where Colonel Jensen awaits with General Richter, who appears ready to give a speech to his men.
Beyond, the gate sits open. Outside, the sight of the convoy of military vehicles we have at our disposal begins to grumble and light up, ready to grind their way down the narrow mountain pathway. They will take the lead, with only space for a small number in the APC's we have available. The rest, which will include the four thousand strong army of recruits inside the mountain, will have to make the trek on foot.
That trek will take a number of hours. Had the Eden army set up camp right at the foot of the mountains, down in the desert, it would take a lot longer. Fortunately, they saw fit to block off our route down the mountain at the valleys high up where the landscape turns more lush and verdant. Where sources of water are easy to come by, mountain springs and small steams providing the necessary sustenance they need for their long vigil.
But still, the trek will be taxing, the people laden down with their weapons. Some will be used to it, having dragged heavy weights across the desert on their pilgrimage to Petram. Others, however, will find the going tough. And when they arrive at their destination, they will have no choice but to engage in battle.
As we stand there, at the back of the gathered army, with General Richter giving his short speech, a soldier comes running up to us all the way from the gate in the distance. He stops and salutes my father as he reaches us.
“General Drayton, General Sharpe would like to see you, sir.”
I look at my father with raised eyes.
“So you're a General now, huh?”
He offers me a brief smile, then turns back to the soldier.
“Thank you, Corporal,” he says.
The young man bounds off once again, and Drake leads us out towards the gate, walking along the edge of the army as they stand to attention. We take a roundabout route to avoid interrupting General Richter, before slipping out through the gate to a sight that takes a portion of my breath away.
Dozens of vehicles. Tanks, mobile artillery units, APC's, jeeps mounted with machine guns. All of them rumble, lined up next to each other facing the mountain pass, their lights shining their way down towards the mountain tunnel ahead. General Sharpe sees us and approaches.
“General Drayton,” he says. “Your vehicle is over here.”
I share a look with Ellie and Athena. For some reason, I thought we'd be marching down with the rest of them.
We're led to a jeep at the far end of the convoy.
“This is yours,” says General Sharpe. “We have provided a driver for you...”
“Not necessary, General,” cuts in Drake. “I will
take the wheel.”
General Sharpe frowns but nods. I suppose military generals driving their own cars is a rare thing indeed.
“So be it.”
The two men shake hands.
“Good luck, General Drayton,” says General Sharpe. “And to all of you,” he adds, looking over each of us.
“Thank you,” says Drake. “We'll share a drink after to toast our victory.”
The two proud men nod at each other before General Sharpe turns away. I watch as he climbs into a formidably armoured mobile artillery unit. Soon after, I see Aeneas Stein wandering out of the gate accompanied by General Richter. He sees us over at the far end of the convoy and quickly trots over, the smile I've come to expect from him plastered on his face.
“Isn't all of this exciting,” he says.
He hugs each one of us, even Athena who I don't think he's met before.
“I've heard great things about you, young lady,” he says to her. “I will look forward to seeing what you're capable of. I'm sure you'll live up to you name.”
Athena frowns. Drake smiles. Ellie looks confused.
“You don't know the original owner of your name?” Stein asks.
Athena shakes her head.
“Well, many thousands of years ago, Athena was the ancient Greek's goddess of war. Your parents must have known you'd turn out to be a formidable fighter.
“I think they just thought it was pretty,” says Athena, looking suitably happy to find out the etymology of her name.
“Well, it must be fate then,” says Stein, as Athena beams with a rare show of emotion. Trust Stein to elicit such a response.
He looks over us once more.
“I know you will all do us proud,” he says. “And I know my words mean little at this point...but take care.”
He winks at me before departing, joining General Richter once more as they climb into the same fortress on wheels as General Sharpe. We all do the same with our own jeep, Drake taking the wheel, myself beside him and Ellie and Athena in the back.
Then, with a clattering roar that echoes through the mountain, the rumbling of engines increases, and the convoy begins to move off, grinding slowly down towards the tunnel a short way ahead.
