User:ShadowWolf/The Hero Factor
From Shifti
The Hero Factor
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Work on this story is on hiatus. |
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This story is a work in progress. |
"No dice!" I shouted at the screen in front of me. Good, he was shocked. Now all I had to do was hit the disconnect switch.
"Mr. Fliegel, we can assure you that our scientists have solved the problems that plagued the early tests. There have been five successful tests with animal subjects, but we want even odds on the survival of the first human test..."
I cut him off. "I said 'No dice'! God doesn't play dice with the universe and neither should we!" Before he could say anything else I hit the 'hang up' button and sighed. First they accidentally drag me five hundred years forward in time, and now they want me to risk my life so they can test some strange device that'll give them the ability to manipulate time.
My life since that fateful day seven months ago had been a highly public one. Transmatics had given me enough money so that I could live comfortably the rest of my life after they had inadvertantly brought me here. To them I was a resource to try and use, to the rest of the world I was simply an atavis, a throwback to a simpler era.
As a public figure I wasn't much to look at... Never had been and never will be. Since I hadn't had the proper pre-natal work done I'd never have any modifications. I'd remain the last pure human on the globe - all of my five foot eleven, hundred sixty pound self was what god had given me.
I hate this future - it has nothing to redeem it. Mankind had failed and the planet was dying underneath us. Yes, they had made explosive leaps forward in the sciences... But the price has been paid by the planet. There are no more ice caps, no rain forests - no forests or wild spaces of any kind. Only domestic animals and farm animals remain.
But yes, I do understand Transmatics. I had survived one trip through time, so there was a good chance that I'd survive the test to send me one day back in time. The fact that they were doing this in hopes of making the universe a smaller space was also understandable. If they could control time, they could make ships that travelled faster than light. Since the Earth was already so dangerously overcrowded that farms were now protected with armed guards that have orders to shoot first I also understood the need.
My problem with it all was that they were asking me to willingly risk death. The truth is that I would rather be a live chicken that a dead lion. But even as I remembered Heinleins words about that matter I was telling the vid-phone to open a line to the last person I'd spoken to. Because I would rather be a live lion than a chicken I was actually considering taking the offer.
I didn't understand the science at all, but if they could prove to me that it was possible for a living being to survive the test I'd chance it. From what one scientist had told me they were taking advantage of some odd facet of Quantum Theory by way of math developed to tie Quantum Theory and relativity together. Something about a tunnel between 'Calabi-Yau' spaces. While I'd heard of them - they had been predicted during my life before being brought to the future - I wasn't sure, exactly, what they were.
The vid-phone beeped, finally, and the image resolved into the face of the head of Transmatics R&D division. He was smiling smugly, and the greedy look in his eyes almost made me hang up. "Mr. Fliegel, I wasn't expecting this..."
"Shut up, you fascist asshole. I'll make a deal with you - prove that the process is safe and has a success probability of more than ninety percent and I'll be your guinea pig."
The stunned look on his face made me think he might have a heart attack. He stammered a few times and for a split second I thought he was going to suffer a grand-mal siezure. Then he regained his cool, fake smile and spoke. "Of course, Mr. Fliegel. We'll send a flitter to pick you up."
Personal Timeline
T-7 Months
The last bug on my latest masterpiece of a website was fixed and the site brought fully online. I finished writing out the notes about how to administer the site so the client that had requested it would have an easy time - not one of my clients really knew anything about technology. Then it happened. Pain beyond comparison and the world whirling around me before dissolving into pixelated dots and finally blackness.
When I came to the view that greeted me was of a raised platform of glass, metal and plastics in a sea of gloss black. There was a feeling of amazement in the room, and tension so thick the air itself seemed to have gotten dense. I shook my head to try and clear the cobwebs that seemed to clog my thoughts and checked out my body, which throbbed lightly with a memory of the pain.
"The power spike seems to have caused an anomaly. The data seems... Oh, fuck! Theres someone on the platform! Get a med-tech team here fast!" My vision finally adjusted to the sea of black and I could see people moving around, dressed head to toe in black uniforms that looked like form-fitting biohazard suits. The voice had come from one just off the raised platform I was on, and he (she?) seemed to be waiting for something.
Moments later a set of stairs, gloss black like the rest of the rooms fixtures, rose out of the floor. I rolled onto my side, then onto my stomach and tested my body with a pushup. The nerves throughout my body were still reporting a ghost of the pain I had felt before coming to here, but everything seemed to be working. With as little motion as I could manage I moved to a seated position, and the world swam around me.
"He's alive, but looks a bit ill." The suited figure was in front of me now. "Where is that med-tech team?"
"I'm fine." I said, lightly slurring the words and I immediately knew I'd made a mistake. My head throbbed worse than the hangovers I'd suffered when I was still partying every night. "But do you have any aspirin? Feels like I got pummeled by a gorilla."
"Med-techs will be here soon. But... Who are you? How did you get here?" There was an accent to the voice that I had just noticed. My mind latched onto it and tried to place it, but I was at a loss. It sounded like a cross between several accents I knew... But it didn't match any, so I filed that for further thought.
"Don't need medical help... Just need a few aspirin, some water and a cigarette. Name is Victor Fliegel... no idea how I got here. One mintue I'm typing up instructions on how to do various administrative tasks on a clients website and next minute I'm in pain and here." The world spun again and went black as I passed out.
Two Weeks Later
"What do you mean there are no forests? If anything the Congo and the Amazon should still be around. Legislation was in progress with the UN to halt the destruction of the worlds rainforests!" All I wanted was to take a walk and 'commune with nature'. It was one of the methods I had learned to combat my clinical depression, and I was being told it was impossible.
"Just what I said, Mr. Fliegel. All protective legislation was invalidated when the UN was replaced by WorldGov. The Congo and the Amazon basins are where the worlds food is now grown. The soil was not as rich as hoped, but modern fertilizers and farming techniques keep it productive. The las forest was..."
The anger I was feeling was almost unbearable. If I knew exactly where this guy was I'd go and show him just how dangerous an atavis could be. "If I were you I'd find a way to let me take a walk in nature. Perhaps you could arrange for me to take a walk across one of those farms!"
"Mr. Fliegel, that is not possible. Only certified farm workers and the farm security forces are allowed to set foot on that land. I could arrange for you to visit a virtual forest - there is no noticeable difference."
That did it. I turned to the computer next to me and started typing in commands. This officious asshole was going to pay, as was the corporation he worked for. I'd do the damage on this guy myself - all I had to do was find him and even the seemingly miraculous medical technology they possessed would not be able to fix him. The corporation I'd get legally - they had dragged me five hundred years forward in time, effectively kidnapping me and now I was stuck in this place, unable to go home, effectively making me a hostage. "Bullshit. For someone who's never seen a forest it might not be any different, but I grew up around forests of all kinds. Goodbye, Mr. Davis. I'll see you soon."
The vidphone clicked off, my finger holding down the 'disconnect' button. I was already sick of this place, of being famous because I was from a time before the advent of the genetic structures that let medicine advance to the point that everyone is functionally immortal. Given all the resources and my skill at learning new systems I had done a lot of research.
When I took it to a med-tech she laughed. Even though all the data said it would work, she refused to even think of the possibility of grafting that genetic code onto mine using the techniques now available. Not even the most advanced courses of nanites and tailored retroviruses were an option to her. Something about there being no way to synchronize the event so that my body wouldn't destroy itself.
Personal Timeline
T-1 month
My life was a living hell at this point. The fame was still there, just starting to fade out. But I was unable to fit myself into the nitch I had specialized in before coming to the future. Design and implementation of Virtual Environments required skills I didn't have, and all documentation and tutorials were designed from the viewpoint that you'd have a cortical implant.
"Phone, dial Transmatics. Connect to the Technical Directors office."
The phone beeped in acknowledgement and the screen flashed through a pattern indicating the routing of the call through the various ground and space links. Phones in this time weren't what I remembered... they were network appliances, creating secure tunnels between each other over the vast network that had replaced the internet. Very few people had actual phones as most people just used cortical implements.
"Mr. Fliegel, what can I do for you?"
"Tell someone to round up a passel of nanites so I can get a cortical implant. I'm sick of being the butt of jokes for not having one, and I'm sick of not being able to find data in a form useful to me so I can get up to speed and try working myself back into the job I did in my time." There, I'd said it. Given the technology they had, including the nanotechnoloy and all the various molecule-sized fixit robots, they should be able to graft a cortical node onto my nervous system.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Fliegel, but that isn't possible. Your brain needs to develop with the internals of the cortical node already there. It's the only way that the system can work. Believe me, it was tried when the nodes were developed three hundred years ago."
As the words came out the speakers I lost it. The anxiety and stress of the past months sublimated and reformed as a cold fire. I swung and put my hand through the phones display panel, breaking every bone in my hand and shredding the skin. The pain was glorious and helped me focus my thoughts. After the med-techs were done fixing my hand and a new vidphone was installed I was going to call a lawyer and take Transmatics to the cleaners.
The Present
The lab was much as I remembered it. Clean, gloss black walls and surfaces. Bright lights and flashing screens all around, detailing various readouts form the millions of sensors built into the room. Calm people with those strange electronic pickups on their left temples dressed in flat black clean-room uniforms. In other words, a very strange place.
In the center of the room was a raised platform, surrounded by clear sheets of some material. They tell me it's a quantum stabilizer, whatever the hell that is. All I know is that if this thing works, they'll be able to send me home to the exact instant they pulled me from. That is what I've longed for these past months. Sure, the future is wonderful - they've got complete control over the weather, you can get any information you want and the science is more advanced in some fields than anyone would have ever dreamed.
My attempt at a lawsuit had failed, but had made Transmatics take note that I wasn't satisfied with my status. Since then they had redoubled their efforts to make the tech work, and had even figured out how I'd been pulled forward in time. That was why I had agreed to this test, more than anything. But my mind was calm as I walked up the platform and sat down in the chair that would hold me in place for the test. In very little time everyone would know if it worked, and if it failed spectacularly and I died, at least I'd finally be free of this future and its dying planet.
And here comes one of these almost generic lab rats to strap me into the seat set in the middle of the transit platform. As I look around the room I'm hoping the experiment will work, even though its my firm belief that the whole thing is a crapshoot and I'd be lucky to make it back here. After all, I could just as likely wind up in a world where all the animals ev.... "GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" I screamed, my thought cut off by the pain. It felt like I was being extruded through a hole smaller than the eye of a needle.
I came to almost immediately and knew they'd fucked up once again. I was in the middle of cursing them and all their ancestors when a new wave of pain and nausea flowed over me. I faintly saw my hands changing and then blacked out, my brain seeming to blow an overload breaker.
"He's coming to!" a voice whispered in the darkness. The world around me felt wrong, somehow muted while at the same time my nose was reporting a world rich in scents. The cobwebs filling my brain refused to clear away and I slid back into darkness, cursing myself for having trusted Transmatics at all.
"Jacob, get out of there and let him sleep." A motherly voice said as sleep took me.
Nothing about the dreams was normal. Strange faces that reminded me of wolves, cats and some shots of beings reminiscent of Centaurs flashed past me rapid fire. Then everything began to settle and fight after fight flashed by, bringing with it the illusory pain of dreams. In one I fought a wolf-like being in an attempt to free others like him from some sort of slavery, while in another I was dying with dozens of arrows sprouting from my body.
The dreams themselves felt strange to me, almost lifelike. As more and more fights passed before me I took note of a disturbing pattern where a lifetime of fights won balanced out with singular losses and deaths in ambush. My mind reeled from the strangeness of it all as my body reported the pains of each cut, bruise and death. Finally the world stopped running past me on fast forward and slowed towards yet one more fight.
I was the same grand warrior as in other fights, weilding a pair of swords against evil. In my right hand a bright steel blade flashed in the westerning sun and in my right a wooden sword of similar dimensions caused enemy blades to ring as I blocked a killing blow. The martial arts were something I had passed far beyond a long time ago. Around me the world was full of vibrant color and even more vibrant smells and sounds. The quest was to stop an evil ruler who was torturing his people for the most petty of crimes.
At the moment I was fighting a band of orcs, taking on all fifteen of them at one time and not getting hurt once. The moves flowed, one into another and the names flitted through my mind, seeming to sink into the reality and become part of it. Somehow I know something isn't quite right, but the orcs keep coming and it's becoming obvious that I may have taken a bit to big of a bite.
But I will survive. I am the hero of legends reborn, the one from another reality who comes to set the world aright. The first orc falls as I slice his throat and immediately parry a thrust from another. Then the second falls and I rejoice in it, knowing that I am the favored of both the god of peace and the god of war. Minutes pass before the next orc falls to my blade, then a fourth and a fifth die. After an hours labor fifteen orcs lay dead on the field around me and I stop to clean my blades on the tunic of one of them.
Just as the steel blade slides into the shoulder sheath my mind catches the furred look of my arm. For the first time in the dreams I know that I am no longer human. My mind starts at this but the dream turns as the sound of a blade clearing it's sheath rings out behind me. The captain of the pig-like orcs has made it through the lines and cleared my best men. The wooden sword raises to block an overhead slice and I start to turn so I can get the steel blade back out when pain shoots through from my groin.
Looking down I can see the bloody knife in the orc captains hand and the red, arterial blood pumping out of me. As the world goes dark words and symbols flash in my vision and disappear, but I can hear the words rattling out of me "Did I not serve you well, Goddess?"
My eyes snapped open and the world flashed into focus. In the back of my mind a little voice told me something was definitely wrong, but I pushed it aside as I got up, noticing for the first time the muzzle in my vision. My knees went week and I plopped back onto the bed and everything came back to me. Transmatics had fucked up again, and now I was somewhere that seemed to be earth, but I had a furred muzzle filling the center of my vision.
The only door I saw creeped open and a fox-like head looked around the corner. "Gram, he's awake! The He..." The voice of the fox-child was cut off with a sharp smack.
"I told you to leave him alone. He was barely alive when we found him, without a mark on him. He must've had some bad illness..." It was the matronly voice I'd breifly heard before.
I stood and found a breech-cloth hanging on a hook next to the bed. My clothes were nowhere to be seen, so for modesty I slid it on, in the process getting a look at most of the rest of my body. The fur coloration was the brown tinged silver I'd often seen on wolves, and I didn't have hands and feet, per se, but what were better called 'modified paws'. Seeing this made me realize that I wasn't hallucinating, so I pulled on the breech-cloth and stepped out the door.
"Don't be too hard on the kid, ma'am. I'd just woken and sat up when he peeked around the door."
"Oh, well then... Jacob, I'm sorry I hit you like that. I was just worried about our guest. The doctors and chirurgeons didn't know what was wrong with him..." She said to the young boy. Then she turned to me and began speaking. "You had us worried there. What with you being the Hero and all and showing up outside our village looking like you were on deaths door, then sleeping for a week on top of it."
The dream came back to me in a rush and I knew that I was now as much a master of the blade and unarmed combat as I had been in the dream. Each move flowed through my mind and I felt my muscles twitch, wanting to mimic what my mind saw. But before I followed up on that I looked down my muzzle at her. "Hero? Ma'am, there must be some sort of mistake. My name is Victor Fliegel and I have no idea where I am... but I know I'm not a..." My voice trailed off and I remembered the dream again, and the belief in it that I was a hero. Something inside wouldn't let me deny it, as much as I wanted to.
I frowned and shrugged. "Where I come from I'm just a normal guy, nothing special. But enough of that... You wouldn't happen to know what happened to my clothes, would you?" My jumpsuit had a utility tool and a knife I habitually carried, as well as a minicomputer I have gotten used to having around.
"When they brought you in there were some rags and other bits. I suppose you'd be looking for those bits and not the clothes, right?"
Bingo! For being an old lady she was sharp as a tack. I nodded and finally really looked around my surroundings. It was like I was in some RPG like the Final Fantasy games I had played in my youth. The building looked unbelievably modern for being as primitive as the clothing and furnishings showed it to be. I found a chair and sat down, then yelped and changed position as I'd sat on a tail I'd not had before. A few moments later she dumped the stuff on the table in front of me.
First I picked up the knife, happy to see it's gleaming steel-composite blade. I looked along the edge, checking for nicks, then flipped it and caught the blade, checking that the weight was as I remembered. A voice inside said 'Not good for distance throwing, but very good for in-fighting' and I looked around then flicked it into the dirt floor and picked up the mini-comp. I tapped it's power button with a claw and a holo-projection filled the air. Happy to see it working I tapped the power-cell readout and noted that the regenerative zero-point power cell was barely functional.
Triple-damned Microsoft. I should've sprung the extra for the Transmatics version! I thought, disgusted that I'd thought an extra few centuries would have taught that company anything. Ah well... Not that the computer would be of much use to me here, except for the odd scan to determine what exactly was going on around me. I set it down and picked up the multi-tool, checked it's bits and set it back down.
"Thank you, Ma'am, but I'm afraid those shreds were the only clothing I have. You wouldn't have something to spare until I can find some work, would you?" I refused to go around in a breech-clot, no matter how comfortable it was. These two were wearing something approaching decent clothing, and I'd be damned if I trotted around like a barbarian.
"Of course, of course. Theres a chest upstairs with some things my father brought home from the last big war. Should be some armor and goods in there that'll fit you. Of course the Parson'll want to give you the last Hero's swords." The lady was sweet as molasses. I pulled my knife from the dirt floor, stood, bowed and jogged up the stairs. Even if I had to wear some piece of ancient armor it'd be better than what I had on, and maybe there'd be a sheath there to fit my blade.
The haul was better than I expected. The chest was twice as large as a steamer trunk and packed full. A scent of aged metal and leather assualted me as I lifted the lid and looked inside. Sitting right on top was a bladeless scabbard, sized just right for a broadsword. 'Take that one...' the little voice said to me. This time I was stunned by the voice and stopped for a second to wonder if I might be going insane. I shrugged it off as being related to the new form and new surroundings, for the first time noticing that I wasn't gibbering in a corner, afraid and unable to cope. Instead I was almost emotionless about it all, as if something was working to make me feel comfortable and at home. Again I shrugged and decided to just roll with it all, a singular kernel of hope budding deep inside that Transmatics would be able to pull me out of this strange world.
The next few items were stunning for their workmanship, but the leather was cracked and brittle, so I set those apart from the scabbard and kept digging through the contents of the chest. About halfway through I came across something wrapped in what looked like an oiled piece of leather. I pulled it out and unwrapped it. To my surprise there was a breastplate of sorts inside. As I turned it over in my hands I admired the workmanship - it was comprised of layers of wood and leather glued together, with steel plates riveted on the front. It went with the scabbard even as that little voice spoke up and told me to set it aside.
By the time I finished the search I had two scabbards, a sheath for my knife, the breastplate and a Roman Legionaire-like kilt made of laminated leather and wood with metal riveted to it. After making sure the metal was free of rust I dressed and slid my knife into it's sheath. Now that I was presentable my stomach was being insistent in making it known that it was quite empty. So down the stairs I went, feeling better than I had since Transmatics had dragged me into the future.
"You wouldn't happen to have some food ready, would you? Feels like I haven't eaten in a month."
"Of course, Hero. I was getting ready to..." She cut off as she turned and saw me. "You really are the hero... Sit, sit! It's dinnertime anyway!"
We ate and talked over the next several hours. I found myself telling her a tale of how I came to be in the forest. Not quite a lie, as I was merely parroting what that voice at the back of my head said, unwilling to tell her the truth of my origin. Somehow I doubted she'd understand how I wasn't really a wolf and how I wasn't from this planet, or even, possibly, this reality. Hours passed and the land outside the simple windows grew dark. We retired to the rooms upstairs and went to sleep.
Transmatics
during the convalescence
A brilliant flash surrounds the platform and it's lone occupant, then is gone, leaving an afterimage on people retinas and causing the cameras to adjust and readjust to get the image back. When it's all clear only the platform and the chair mounted to it remain, it's human occupant is gone.
"You see, just as I told you, Mr. Davis. He disappeared at the moment we activated the platform and opened the wormhole." It's a scientist, all clad in black speaking.
"Then you obviously made a mistake in calibrating the device. The math and the tests show that we __can__ open a wormhole that is stable at both ends." The voice is hard, with a detectable edge of anger to it.
The scientist looks cowed, complacent. "Of course, Mr. Davis. We'll get on the math and calibration right away to see if we can't pull him back."
James Theodore Davis the Third dismisses the scientist with a wave of his hand. He's worried about possible backlash from losing such a celebrity figure as they had. Historic records showed the man disappearing, but none recorded his return, so it was certain they hadn't merely zapped him back five hundred years in time. He was certain the math was correct, as certain as he was about his own name, but the result didn't look good. The first human trial and the subject just disappeared, if the discharge of the platform opening a wormhole hadn't vaporized him outright.
With a sigh he stands and begins to pace, his mind following myriad tracks as his cortical implant works the math he couldn't and downloaded all the data from the tests. There had to be a flaw somewhere, but as many times as people had been over the numbers he doubted he'd find it. But still he tried, downloading information on physics and running down the various equations. Each time he hit the same wall the research team had until someone had found a way to balance out Heisenberg.
Whatever the problem was, it had to be in those equations, even though they seemed to work out - the platform had sent five different cows three minutes forward in time. Davis opened a box on his desktop and pulled out a pipe, even knowing that Tobacco was illegal to grow he still preferred to puff on his pipe when thinking like this. He stopped for a second and switched to a running playback of the cameras in the labs and the platform room. The sight of the various technicians and scientists running around, sometimes fighting among themselves made him chuckle as he switched off the feed.
As he sat back down he took out the box of matches he kept in his desk drawer and lit his pipe, savoring the taste of the expensive and hard to get tobacco. Then he called up all the data form the test shots and the various experiments that had led to the platform. It would take hours to review it all, but he would do it. The time control experiments were his - he'd taken up the contract of the scientist that had started the work, he'd guaranteed the board success, and he'd be damned if he'd let a scientist screw up his chance to join the board of directors.
For the next two hours he puffed on his pipe, regularly cleaning it, repacking it and relighting it and he looked through the data. Two billion dollars had been poured into this project, and all he had to show for it were a few cows that were two minutes younger than the clock said they should be and a missing celebrity. If only they'd never made thttp://www.arklinux.org/projects/dvdrtoolshe mistake of running the reversion test he wouldn't be in this position. With a sigh he shook himself, his conscience reminding him that the board had requested they make sure they could reverse the direction of the targeting. A simple test, and it had drug someone five hundred years forward in time. If only it hadn't been a loud-mouthed nature lover like Fliegel they'd have had no problems.
Now he was at the point in the record where they'd drug Fliegel forward in time and even his untrained eye could see there was something different with that run. The numbers didn't line up with what the equations said they should be, with the power consumption being nearly twenty times what was needed - even with the mass of Fliegel worked into them - and the stable endpoint seemed to have jumped out of control the second they had reversed the energy flow along the control pathways.
With a flash of brilliance he checked the numbers for the test where they had lost Fliegel. The same power consumption spike occurred, if at a lower level and there was something funny about the endpoint equations. Davis chuckled as he ran the equations the machinery used to represent the endpoint. Again the same last minute fluctuation that had drawn Fliegel forward in time. But the numbers didn't match for a time-displacement, at least, he didn't think they did. It was time to bring the scientists what he had found and see if they could use that data.
The Hero
The Next Day
I woke early and stretched, then pulled on the kilt-like armor made of strips of laminated leather and metal. Something inside was pushing me to go workout, so I pulled the chest-protector from the hook where I'd hung it before laying down. Before strapping it on I checked it out, looking to make sure the leather that had been built up of thin layers was still flexible and not dried out. The level of tech for some things I'd seen really surprised me, it was almost as if they had something close to the technology of Rome or Greece in their heyday.
The sun hadn't risen over the Horizon yet as I stepped outside and walked around back, but there was a lot of activity anyway. Fields were being tended, animals looked after and water was being drawn - exactly the type of activity I'd always dreamed of seeing. It just confirmed my suspicion that the world here didn't know engines beyond those that an animal or man powered. The clean air and the wonderful scents of nature my new nose brought me was invigorating.
Then the voice that had guided me through choosing the armor I was wearing started prodding me again and I found myself flowing through the steps of what I recognized to be a kata. Front kick, side claw to the face, draw knife and block high... My mind realed off the name of purpose of each step as I flowed through it, the muscles in my body relaxing as it went on. Thirty minutes later I finished the one I had just been doing and began some calisthenics to work the muscles that had just relaxed.
The pushups flashed by, first I was thinking of just doing twenty and moving on to other exercises, but I wound up pushing myself until I couldn't do any more. I'd lost count by that point, although the young boy that had watched me called out 'That was 100' before I finished. Then it was up and off for a run, I was ignoring the voice that had been prodding me for the last day or so and just doing what felt right. I circled the fields of the town five times, then settled back at the cabin and split more than a cord of firewood for the old lady that had taken care of me through my convalescence.
It was noon when I finished, so I went to the well, drank my fill of the cool, clean water and went back to the cabin. She had food on the table as I came indoors, and I hate to say it, but I started drooling like Pavlovs dogs did when they heard a bell. As I sat down I thanked the woman for having food ready and she smiled.
"No, Hero. Thank you for chopping that wood. I've been after my wastrel of a grandson to do it for a week." She said sweetly as she placed a cooked slab of some unidentifiable meat in front of me. She quickly followed it with a tureen of a sweet-smelling soup and something that reminded me of green onions.
We ate in silence, with me thinking of teaching her grandson why you should do things asked of you. But that little voice perked up and gave me a better idea. I was just finishing the soup when her grandson came running in. With an unthought reaction my hand flashed out and grabbed the back of his neck. "Slow down there, Jacob." I said as his feet lifted off the ground. Hanging there in midair he yelped and tried to look at me.
"I've got something I'm going to ask of you, and your grandmother will have to agree, Understood?"
He swallowed and mumbled the word, but I caught enough to know he'd agreed. So I set him on his feet and turned him to look at me. "At the ceremony coming up I am going to be confirmed as the Hero reborn. I will need a page, someone that I can teach and who can help me in my work. Would you like to do that?"
The look on the old maids face was one of shock, initially, but quickly turned to one of respect and joy. She'd give him permission, I knew it from the moment I'd grabbed him. But his face was different, shaded in various stages of shock and awe that I had offered him such a position. My face betrayed no emotion - I was sure of that, as sure as I was that this wasn't the planet I had been born on. His eyes locked with mine and I saw it then, knew his answer and knew exactly why he hadn't been around. There was a struggle going on among the children in town, a struggle to be the one who became my student and helper.
"I'd... I'd... " He stammered, then dropped to his knees and rolled over, exposing his stomach. "Hero, would you be willing to have me as your student and page?"
Formalities dotted this culture that I didn't have trouble understanding, but didn't see coming. His posture at the moment was of a dog admitting another was his better and risking death if the other wasn't pleased. I looked up at his grandmother and smiled. She motioned and I dropped and lightly bit down on his neck, then reclaimed my seat. "I take you as my student and page, Jacob. From this day forward you are Jacob no more, but Split-Tail. For now you may do as others and call me Hero, but after the ceremony all will learn my name."
I didn't know where the words had come from. It was as if someone were speaking them with my mouth, but the formalities were fulfilled. He leaped to his feet and dashed about, letting out wordless barks and howls of joy. The maid looked at me and smiled before speaking. "You bring honor to my humble house, Hero. There those who would have it that you are not the one to make such a choice."
I just smiled and nodded, knowing that there were always people who thought all the prerogatives were theres. In my mind a plan of training for the young wolf formed, one he doubtless would like less than he liked household chores. It involved much manual labor to develop muscles and long work at the martial arts to develop muscular control as well as self control. Only after he'd proved himself to me would I begin to teach him the deepest of arts, the art of the blade.
The rest of the afternoon I spent teaching the boy how to work his muscles. More than once he complained about the pain of his muscles actually breaking down so they could rebuild. Each time I told him he was free to request I choose someone else as my Page and student if he felt he wasn't worthy. That kept him trying to keep up with me, sometimes surprising me with his endurance or strength. There was maybe an hour of sun yet to go when he told me I'd better prepare for the ceremony.
As the sun slipped behind the trees of the woods surrounding the village farms I withdrew into myself, strangely calm when I should be nervous. I knew nothing about this world or it's religious ceremonies, and should have been very worried about the coming event. The fact that I wasn't worried about it actually worried me more that anything had since I'd woken looking like a cartoon character. But when the gong sounded to announce the opening of the Temple's doors I was on my feet, fully prepared to walk into that building and make a fool of myself.
I was on my way to the cabins door when the Parson stepped in carrying a cloak for me to wear to the ceremony. The gilt threads and intricate patterns stitched around the cuffs and hemline betrayed it's ceremonial purpose. So I slippiped it on over my armor and knife, not knowing if these people allowed weapons in the Temple, but not wanting to be unarmed in case I did something to offend tham and had to fight to escape. Furred paw-hands raised the hood as the Parson nattered on with the old lady about the weather. A look and me stepping towards the door was all it took to get him moving and he led me to the Temple, jabbering all the way about how lucky he was to be able to witness the ceremony of the Hero. At the low door to the temple he pointed to a full sized one concealed in the woodwork then dropped and crawled through the main door.
A curse fell from my mouth and I dropped and crawled through the door after him. Just because I was the Hero didn't mean I deserved special privileges. As soon as my nose was inside the door I was greeted with the scent of fresh incense and other fragrant spices burning. Then I saw, for the first time, a statue of the Goddess they revered. It took the form of a she-wolf in a pose as if accepting a challengers submission after a fight. My mind noted the Parson just standing up and stepping away from the statue. The meaning was as clear as if I'd grown up in this society, and I had no wish to try and set myself as equal with their Goddess. So I layed on my back and stuck my throat in the open jaws of the statue.
The temple went silent. "Oh shit..." I muttered as I stood and brushed the dust from the ceremonial cloak I was wearing. My mind was racing, following a million paths, settling on one that said I had broken a Taboo in submitting to the Goddess. I was reaching for the catch of the cloak so I could shrug it off and defend myself when a clear shout rang out from the people that filled the temple.
"He enters as a commoner and submits!"
The crowd went wild, cheers and howls rising in a crashing crescendo over my entrance. Still unsure if I had done something right or wrong my muscles tensed the loosened in preperation for a fight to escape with my life. My mind weighed options like I'd been a warrior in this body my whole life as my eyes scanned the crowd, looking for those who I would have to avoid to make my escape without serious injury.
A she-wolf wearing nothing but a strange headdress stepped out of the crowd and stopped in front of me. "A humble hero. I welcome you to our village and temple Victor Fliegel of the Hyoomin clan." She bowed as she finished speaking, then turned to the crowd without waiting to see if I would return the bow. In the front ranks of the crowd I could see Split-Tail and his grandmother, smiling happily at me. The roar of the crowd turned into a whisper under her gaze, then died entirely as she raised her hands.
"A Hero has come when there is no cleaqr danger. A prophecy stands ready to be fulfilled. Clear the floor and take your places, the ceremony is ready to begin." Her voice was melodic but betrayed her true age in ways her youthful looking body did not. The strain of her years was clear when she spoke, and a voice inside told me this would be her last big ceremony. She turned back to me and held out a hand.
"Though others must submit to me, the Hero cannot. Nor can I submit to the Hero. Come now, I will show you to the seat we have prepared for you then I must start the ceremony."
I took her hand and she led me through the crowd, the sheer feeling of the place spoke of faith and power based on such the way the ancient Christian churches did. There was no opulence here, not even for the one being honored. The seats sat around the center of the temple, mine lower down, almost on the open floor and was of simple rough-hewn wood like the rest of the building, without even a cushion. My tail neatly slid off the back of the plank seat as I settled in to enjoy the ceremony.
She picked up a bucket of what smelled like rock salt and a long, slender willow-branch that smelled fresh and green, then walked to the ceter of the temple and down into the shallow pit there. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang as she turned a circle to glance at the people filling all the seats. Then she set down the bucket, faced one of the doors and closed her eyes.
Her unmoving tail and posture gave the impression that she was under a great strain as she raised the willow wand and pointed it at the door. "Spirits of our Ancestors, Spirits of the North, come and join us in heralding the arrival of a new Hero." Her voice was sharp, clear of the sounds of age I had heard in it just moments before. As she finished speaking there was a crash of thunder and a cold wind blew through the sealed room.
She reached down and picked up a handful of salt and threw it at the door. "I consecrate this northward facing door to the Goddess and condemn all evil spirits to an eternal pain if they try to enter through it." A peel of laughter filled the room and turned into a howl of pain, yet no one in the room was moving.
She repeated this action for each door that stood on a cardinal compass point, then sagged, the mask falling to pieces and dropping from her. Oblivious to anything else in the room I stood and was at the aisle leading down to the pit when her head lifted and she spoke. "I have brought a Hero to save you. The danger is not yet known to you, but it is to the Hero. And the Hero must have his swords."
It didn't sound like the Priestess I'd spoken to. Instead of the melodic voice that seemed to cover three octaves with each word it was a triple voice, echoic and strangely emotionless. I reclaimed my seat and decided to just wait and see what the ceremony had in store, as this was more interesting than even the Voodoo ceremonies I'd witnessed. She calmly walked from the pit and sat down as two men walked out from the crowd.
"The first Hero came to us with nothing and defeated the Cantorii who wished to enslave us, fighting first against the ones who turned on us..."
In the pit a stylized mock-combat began between the men. One had an ankh-like symbol painted on his chest and the other wore an uncomfortable looking helmet. It quickly became obvious that it was supposed to be a portrayal of the fight mentioned, but the manner in which it was done... The ritual combat had a fixed form and the instincts for fighting I seem to have gained in being thrown into this universe kept telling me to expect moves other than what were performed.
Then the memory hit and I remembered fighting the fight being portrayed, killing the wolf who had started working for the Cantorii. I could almost smell the equine scents that had surrounded my opponent in that fight and feel the wounds he'd inflicted on me. As the fight in the pit progressed memories of that long ago war for freedom surfaced, telling me that I was truly the Hero these people expected me to be.
Over the next several hours they recalled the first and last fights of all the Hero's that had preceded me. Memories piled on top of memories in my head and I relived the fights and the struggles they had been in, each time also feeling my death as my luck ran out and I met my match in an opponent. Then it was time for me to step down and accept Tangis-ka and Tango-ka, the swords of the Hero. My steps were light on the wood of the stairs that led to the pit that made up the center of the temple.
Four large deer were brought in through a door that led into another part of the temple and to me. I looked around and spoke the requisite words. "In the site of the Goddess and her chosen people I slay these beasts and let their blood run to sanctify my role as Hero and give my blades the taste of blood needed to once more bind them to me."
Then I kneeled and bit open the throats of the deer, people coming down to hold them steady as my fangs opened their veins. Blood matted my fur and covered the robe I was wearing by the time I was finished with one of my roles in the ceremony, but that didn't bother me. The Goddess required certain rites be performed, and we were the one she had chosen when trouble came. I stood and faced the Priestess, who came out of her seat carrying my swords.
"And so, in the sight of the Goddess and those of her people present, I name you Ghost-Fang and present you with the blades of your predecessors." Her voice was normal again as she handed me Thuris-ka, the blade of steel, and Tango-ka, the blade of wood.
I touched each to a pool of the deers blood, then wiped them clean on the fur of the sacrificial animals before sheathing them. Tango-ka I wore on my hip, where it would be immediately available, since it would be preferable to not kill if I didn't have to. Thuris-ka slid into the shoulder mount where I would be able to access it only if the chance arose or I pulled it before combat. "I accept these items that belong to my predecessors in office, Tangis-ka and Tango-ka. With the blood of these animals killed in the sight of the Goddess and by my own fangs I bind them to me so they may never be used to bring me or the Goddesses chosen people harm."
The rites and rituals were almost finished as people began to file down from the stands. All that was left was to eat the meat of the sacrifices as we all prayed to the Goddess for guidance. The party lasted until dawn when the doors of the temple opened themselves and people began to leave to sleep for the day before going back to laboring in the fields and their shops.
Transmatics
I was before the board, someone having alerted them that the test involving Mr. Fliegel had gone wrong. Before me were twelve of the most powerful men in the world, each having not just a seat on the Transmatics board of directors, but also a seat in the WorldGov congress. Needless to say, I wasn't all that happy at this turn of events.
"Davis, are you telling me you lost Victor Fliegel?"
"Well, yes and no, sir. It seems that the scientists erroneously told me that the platform was now considered safe and fully operational. I even witnessed them sending a test animal - a cow if you must know - forward two full..."
The CEO, Jefferson Walker, interrupted me. "That is out of line, Davis! As President of our Research and Developement department you are supposed to check the test results yourself. And as every member of management this company has knows, we do not allow them to push responsibility off on their subordinates!"
I'm sure I turned white at that point, because it felt like all the blood in my body had decided to migrate to my feet. A sip of water did nothing for my dry throat and I started coughing, damning the tobacco I so loved for doing this to me. My mind was racing the whole time, trying to find a way to prove that it really was the scientists who were at fault. Then it hit me, the one person who could explain what had happened was waiting outside the conference room. He wasn't an employee of Transmatics, but had been called in to help figure out the problems with the data.
"Most honorable board-members, there is a way to explain to you what went wrong and why I truly am not to blame. Just three days ago I was reviewing the data from all the sensors attached to this project and noticed something extremely weird with the numbers."
Another board member cut me off with a laugh. "Strangeness with the numbers? I thought this was all about making interstellar flight a decent possibility!"
"Mr. Girolo, I speak of the numbers that describe the space-time manipulation we are performing. Not one of the scientists we've employed could figure out what the numbers meant, so they begged me to let them call a specialist we'd been unable to hire. Mr. Luskiniski, if you recall I came to you about this just yesterday?"
The man I spoke to noticeably paled as he nodded his shaved head. He took off his glasses - surely an affectation in these days when cloned eyes free of defect could be implanted - and studied them before speaking. "Of course, Davis, of course. What has that to do with this?"
It was my turn to wear a smug smile and gloat a little bit. So I drew out the silence and looked around at the faces of the boardmembers, one by one. Several were pale and sweating, as if they knew what was to come and hadn't briefed the CEO as to the presence of an 'outside contractor' new to the project. The CEO gave a polite cough, telling me I'd been silent long enough and any further silence would be viewed as impolite and a reason for termination, so I spoke. "The man I was speaking of is none other than last years winner of the Nobel Prize for Physics. He's waiting just outside the room. May I call him in?"
At least half the table fell silent completely, not even carrying on the side conversations that had become a fixture of board meetings. The other half were silent as well, looking at me expectantly but uninformed as to who, exactly, had won any of the Nobel Prizes in their lifetime. This brought my smile back and made it even larger. "Then, with your permission..."
I walked to the door, opened it and beckoned the waiting man to come inside. "Allow me to introduce Dr. Frederick Charles Bloom."
I took a seat as the Doctor walked to the head of the table where I'd been so recently and began speaking. For each of the major points he had had the computer generate nice, simple diagrams explaining the science and terminology. Having seen most of it before I sat back and studied the board members, hoping to spot an early sign that my job was safe and secure.
But the faces may as well have been carved from granite. Although I frequently saw flashes of understanding in their eyes, it was as though they were engrossed in traveling the pathways of the global nets an not in the presentation Dr. Bloom was giving. Then I caught a phrase I hadn't heard before and focused my attention on the doctors presentation myself.
"And so, in absence of a true method to sidestep Heisenberg's uncertainty principle someone came up with the bright idea of dictating numbers rather than getting true measurements to that finite accuracy Heisenberg dictates. This effectively means that the greater the displacement, either spacially or temporally, the greater the chance that the apparatus will create a random event."
The words hit home and I rechecked the physics I'd downloaded all those days ago, then began checking the equations used by the team to describe the space-time device. The first two times I did it I got the expected result, then I stopped plugging in the constants that had been used as an attempt to sidestep Heisenberg and I saw the randomness begin to occur. When I ran the numbers for the run that had brought us Fliegel the outcome matched the sensors perfectly. I was out of my seat like shot from a cannon.
"Dr. Bloom, I thank you for you words. Now, would you have any idea if it would be possible to bring Fliegel back from where ever we sent him?"
"No, Mr. Davis, I'm afraid I don't know. I'd have to check all the numbers to be positive. What I can tell you is that the numbers seem to indicate that Mr. Fliegel did not originate in this space-time locus."
The boardroom got loud as the words filtered into the boardmembers skulls and were understood. I myself was speechless, doubly so since all the records seemed to indicate he had originated a little over 500 years before. My mouth was working but no words were coming out when the CEO finally managed to get the room quiet and spoke to me and Dr. Bloom.
"Mr. Davis, you assured me that a records check showed that one Victor Fliegel had disappeared without a trace sometime between August 3, 2006 and August 9, 2006. Am I to understand that you fabricated that data? Doctor, perhaps you could explain your statement!"
I collapsed into the chair and had to fight the urge to curl into the fetal position. Sweat beady on my cold forehead, built up and rolled down into my eyes as my heart began to race. Like a cornered rat I was ready to fight my way out of the room if necessary, and all my energy was focused on trying to calm down. Certain that I was about to hear those two dreaded words I closed my eyes and said a prayer to whatever god had cursed me with the foul luck to have thought Dr. Bloom could save me.
"Mr. Walker, Davis here didn't lie to you. Records do show the Victor Fliegel you mentioned disappearing, but he isn't the Victor Fliegel that showed up here. According to the sensors output the wormhole that brought Victor Fliegel here had an end-point in a parallel universe. I'm going to have to assume that the Victor Fliegel from this universe suffered a similar fate.
"As well, I understand you have accused Mr. John Davis here of losing the Victor Fliegel that was here? It was not his fault. He accepted the faulty solution that your project was working under as the real and functional. Truthfully, Mr. Fliegel is not lost, I can tell you exactly where he is, although you would need to be placed in the device and run through it yourself to stand a chance of finding him."
With those words I knew my job was saved. I thanked the last god I'd prayed to and decided to go visit one of his temples, churches, whatever they called it and take whatever steps were necessary to join that religion. That god had saved me, my life and family by saving my job.
Two Days After the Ceremony
The Parson invited me to his house to meet with the Mayor and other officials. Split-Tail was learning as fast as I could teach him and regularly matched everything I did in my morning work-outs, but I was still wandering what kind of danger the Goddess these people worshiped could have brought me here for. After the ceremony was finished I knew this Goddess was real and often interfered in life, but only brought a new Hero into the world when danger to her people was immanent.
In the past two days I've checked up on the number of people in the village and come to the conclusion that any defenses that might be needed will have to be sturdy and simple enough to be manned by a minimum number of people. Beyond that I haven't had much time to really think about doing things proactively as training Split-Tail has been the priority - he'd be a lot of help if it came to having to teach people to defend themselves. Other than that I was still living with the old woman who had tended me while I recovered from the changes that gave me this body, as a new house added to the village always takes time to plan.
"Thats it for today. Practice the punch against a tree, just as I showed you, and don't hold back. Hitting the tree as hard as you can will help build your hand so you can hit even harder." I said to Split-Tail before heading to the nearby stream to clean up a bit before going to the meeting.
This was the time for me to introduce my idea for a small group to work as scouts and ambush fighters. They would be trained in guerilla tactics and with their already excellent knowledge of fieldcraft would make excellent fighters. I didn't know how they'd receive the idea, but I was eager to get to work on it, since a good guerilla force would be necessary if the danger was large. How to train them was the question, as I'd never done any military service and didn't want to introduce too many ideas that they didn't already have.
A schedule and time to teach them simple hand-to-hand would be a good place to start. Perhaps base the hand-to-hand on their wrestling and make it more of a takedown art than a killing one... No matter, I'd need the Parson's and the Mayor's approval for something like this. At least I wouldn't have to teach them bow skills - that's one thing they already know well. But I'd still need something for a bit of shock value. If I had only paid attention in those high school classes I could probably find a way to introduce dynamite and small grenades, but instead I lost myself in books like Battlefield Earth.
"Eureka!" I shouted and leaped out of the stream. Black powder grenades would work just as well as high-explosive ones, and I knew how to make black powder. The stuff was simplicity itself, all I'd have to do is check and see if my minicomp still had the data I'd downloaded a week before the event about the refining of potassium nitrate. (Okay, so I'd thought about some dirty tricks to play on Transmatics - producing black powder on the sly and using it as a nuisance measure being one of them)
I jogged back to the old ladies cabin and picked up the mini-comp, checked it for power-cell usefullness then turned it on. A few taps at the various holographic icons and the data popped up. We had plenty of wood-ash and tight-woven cloth to use as filters, but the nitrate bearing material and the alcohol were unknowns. A claw touched the power button and I tossed the minicomp onto my sleeping mat in disgust. All the data I had on the refining of one of the key ingredients of black powder called for things that I wasn't sure about.
When I reached the Mayors house it was just about the noon meeting time, although it could have been later. Where these people seemed to have an innate skill for judging the passing of time I didn't, so I relied on people reminding me of the time periodically. In this case I'd been told about the impending noon-hour by Split-Tail, but to him impending could mean anything from five minutes to a half hour. Not like it really matters, these people seem to cut me a lot of slack because I'm "The Hero". At least I had something to actually bring to the meeting.
"Parson, Mayor..." I said as I bowed before taking a seat at the small table in the center of the main room of the Mayors quite spacious house. Unlike every other building in town, this one had an interior coated with a fine layer of daub that had been whitewashed at one point but was now a smoky grey.
"Afternoon, Hero. People say you were quite excited about something just before this meeting. It wouldn't have something to do with advance planning for whatever the problem the Goddess brought you here to fix, would it?" The mayor is a very shrewd man, and people from all over town and beyond bring him information.
"Possibly, your honor. I may have a new weapon I can use to great effect, and the excitement was me remembering about its existence. But to make the raw material for it I need something called saltpeter. My people once mined it from bat guano, that is, bat droppings. There wouldn't happen to be a cave nearby that bats inhabit, would there?" The meeting was going to take hours if I had to explain it all in minute detail, so I decided to shoot for the big stuff first. Hopefully he gets the hint and lets me explain my ideas without too many interruptions.
Transmatics
One Week After the Event
The once perfect blackness of the lab was marred by open walls, missing ceiling panels and the platform was in pieces. For a week they'd been working to install the new sensors and upgrade the lab system to a full AI so it could self-program to handle the data that would be flowing in from the new systems and not overload.
John Davis surveyed the seeming chaos of the work going on. He was ashamed to have been so foolish as to believe the scientist who'd thought up the foolish plan for circumventing Heisenberg that he'd vowed to take a pay cut to the rate of one of the lab techs until the platform proved a success. Not that the pay cut really meant much, since he had enough money already that he wouldn't have to work if he didn't suffer from that peculiar malady.
But he was also in the lab everyday helping to install all the new systems. Just the day before he'd helped install the new components to make the computer AI capable and was now in the process of starting up a seed-core for the AI. He'd made this core himself more than twenty years before as a college project, and though it was designed as a research and cataloging AI, that is, a Library AI, it was still his first choice for the seed that would spawn the AI to run the refurbished lab.
As a programmer he was excellent, having aced every exam and made it all the way through toward his goal of a doctorate only to put that on a hold that was still waiting. The month he was to do his doctoral dissertaion and defend it his mother fell ill and was diagnosed with a rare disease that had so far managed to outwit every attempt to fix it. With his father having died during the last food riots he was needed to care for his mother until the disease ran it's course and killed her.
Over the years he'd kept up the research and his skills were at least as good as any of the programmers in Transmatics stable. In most cases, he rated even higher, which was what had led to him being named President of Research and Developement just two years before. The seed AI he'd installed wasn't the same one that he was going to use for his Doctoral Thesis - no, it had grown since then and was a general AI in all respects, but it still showed the old Librarian traits when it had been set free in the new hardware.
That tendency towards gathering data and cataloguing it was one reason why he had decided to run with his pet AI seed. It would be a valuable trait in that all the data would be properly catalogued so that later examination wouldn't require people making numerous requests because related data had been filed without leaders or tags as to it's relationships to the rest of the information. Today he was down in the 'pit' helping to get the new, tighter scan beam Quantum Flux detectors installed and calibrated.
"John Davis, report to your office. There is an executive looking for you." The lab AI parrotted a message off the building network. It still had the mechanical voice of a new AI, and that grated on Johns nerves. He finished hooking the connector to the last detector in his small sector of the pit and stood, nervously wiping his hands on his khaki trousers.
"James, if you can handle the calibration, seems I'm needed elsewhere."
The tech he was speaking to nodded without looking up from the screen on the minicomp used to calibrate the sensors. With long strides fitting his nearly seven foot frame John Davis exited the lab and walked the nearly quarter mile to his office. He'd been on edge all week, waiting for the hammer to drop and the board to fire him, but so far nothing had occurred beyond the complete rebuilding of the lab and test platform that was now underway.
The security guard talking to his assistant gave away the identity of his visitor before he opened the walnut doors of his office and stepped inside. A wave of fragrant tobacco smoke hit him almost immediately. "You know, I could have you fired for entering my office and looking through classified R&D files, Kyle."
"Not that you'd fire your own, dear Frat Brother. I see you still like things on the less-than-legal side, Moffet." The nickname was from his first year in the frat, when someone had compared him to a character in an ancient science-fiction movie. For all the years that he'd worn that moniker he still couldn't bring himself to like it.
"Right. That would break the Alpha Sigma oath, wouldn't it?" Davis said as he shook his old friends hand and the secret handshake identified them to each other once more. Davis filled a tumbler with some scotch and handed it to Kyle, reclaiming his pipe in the process. Two puffs later the tobacco was used up and the real conversation began.
Personal Timeline
T+14
In just under two weeks one of the two 8 man squads I'd been given permission to put together finally understood why I insisted on teamwork. But silence didn't seem to be one of their strong suits as I stopped the other squad and motioned for them to split into the woods on either side of the path. Sure, I knew that first quad was somewhere along the path waiting in ambush, but that knowledge didn't temper my reactions. Instead I knew that proper protocol always required being alert for the possibility, so when that one cough not from my men reached my ears I knew we were close.
With me I only had two members of the second squad, the other six having split and taken to the trees to try and flank the ambushers. I'd hated splitting a pair like I'd had to do, but it's just good sense not to leave anyone alone on the trail when an ambush has been spotted before it can begin. So on we walked, the practice swords in my hands weighted extra, out to about 25 pounds instead of the relatively light weight of the pair I'd be using in combat just to help me gain some better muscle tone in my chest and arms.
Both practice swords were clear of their sheaths before I motioned to the pair that remained with me to lead on. Ten steps later four men sprang from the brush on either side of the road and attacked. Almost simultaneously the men I'd detailed to flank them sprung from behind and opened up with practice arrows. The pair with me had red marks detailing arrow strikes, but my practice blades flashed and caught every shot that had been aimed at me.
In the aftermath I took the squads to the towns sole business, a small pub that provided some specialized types of liquor. Amazingly the most common was an unaged bourbon that looked like Vodka, and that was my drink of choice. When I had first been introduced to the pub it was to show me that they did indeed have high-proof alcohol, needed to refine one of the ingredients of black powder. I had then made it a point to suggest that they age it in oak casks that had had the inside charred. The suggestion was motivated by selfishness - I'd long ago fallen in love with the flavor of Jack Daniels and other "Sour Mash" Whiskeys, and that was one of the secrets to it's color and flavor.
Now it was a celebration, since second squad was done with training and now knew what to listen and look for to spot an ambush. Tomorrow they'd walk the trail alone, with me observing to see how they handled themselves. Of course, I wouldn't be seen by either side, memories on top of memories of the deep tricks of woodcraft were in my skull alongside all the information on warfighting. But for now it was time to celebrate and teach First Squad what had given away their almost perfectly laid out and planned ambush.
"Jinger, drinks for the squads. Put it on my tab, honey." The barmaid was a cute one, all of five feet tall and covered in fur that reminded me of a brindled bulldog. Not that she looked like one mind you - she was the sweetest looking wolf you ever set eyes on. For the first week I'd tried to deny that I could see any of these creatures as potential mates, but then my mind finally caught up to my body. Rather, I finally realized that, for good or bad, I was no longer human.
I took my customary table, on it was the best topographic representation of the area we were training in that I could make. Both squads came over when they saw me sit at that table without a drink of my own. Maybe they thought I was a bit peeved that First Squad had blown the ambush, but really I was happy that I'd been able to see Second squad break an ambush without tripping it first. My joy was short lived as Split-Tail walked in after his grandmother.
"Vic, we've got a problem. Group of Cantorii just settled outside the west end forests in the reserved lands." He was speaking to me like I'd coached him to. Keep it short, sweet and forget formalities, just deliver the news.
"Split, lemme settle my team down and run them through the after-action. Then me and you will go greet these Cantorii and find out why they've violated the Goddess boundaries to come here."
Grandma left and Split-Tail sat down. I'd been teaching him in between training the troops, and so far he had proven invaluable in the teaching of hand-to-hand to these normally peaceful people. The squads were waiting, and the bar was covered with drinks they hadn't taken. All of a sudden the atmosphere seemed to stress filled, so I leaned my head back and howled. Tomas, the leader of First Squad soon followed, and before my original howl finished the bar was filled with our victorious wail.
After the howl I pointed to Split. "Can you grab my drink, Split? Get one for yourself while you're over there." Sure, he was only eleven, but he was my page, and if I wanted him to have a drink, then by god, he'd have a drink. He ran to the bar and returned less than a minute later with my glass in one hand and a glass of water in the other. I smiled then downed the glass. The squads got the idea and slowly filed to the bar to get their own drinks.
"Tomas, you had a good setup. Nothing out of place to give away the ambush, not even a scent. How I knew you were there was sound. Somebody coughed."
Tomas looked at the guilty party, his partner in the pairs I'd designed the squads around. Back on Earth the Seals used a similar method, called them 'Swim Buddies'. A pat stopped Tomas from saying anything, but I knew Digger was going to be in trouble later. I let them work out their own punishments for failure, and rewarded them regardless. They really were advancing fast from being simple hunters, bereft of the will to fight by the decades long war that another Hero had ended centuries before. Changing fast into fighters their ancestors would have been proud to call brothers.
"But Drak, you messed up. I should not have had to face anyone on the path, but one pair got out. Remember what I told you, shock and awe. Hit them fast and without mercy."
Drak frowned and admitted he'd hesitated to mark his two older brothers as dead in the exercise. Some things were to be expected, and I knew they didn't expect to have to fight other Lupii, but that was no excuse. As Thera, the head of Second Squad explained this to him with some expletives and a glass of liquor dumped over the head I sighed. While I had no way to prove there would be Lupii involved with the enemy we would doubtless face, I also had no way to disprove it. I silently left the bar with Split-Tail and headed to gather my blades. Once an enemy and all that.
With Thuris-ka at my shoulder and Tango-ka across my hips I was ready to face the Cantorii. Whatever the reason for them being here, as military leader of the village and surrounding territory, their ultimate disposition was up to me. But even though it had been many centuries since the Cantorii had tried to create a great empire, my memories wouldn't let me forget their transgressions. Each step closer to their camp caused the alcohol I had downed to burn in the metabolic furnace, fueling me for a potential battle.
I left Split-Tail a few hundred yards from the Cantorii camp, fearing that if violence broke out he'd just be underfoot. His complaints were ringing in my ears still as a wave of noise spread through the camp when I entered. Memories surfaced from another Hero, and I realized that the Cantorii had once been protected by a Hero as well. I even understood the language, and knew I could speak it. The wave of noise was all because these people also somehow recognized me as being 'the Hero'. So far I'd been able to stomach the reverence from the Lupii, but if I got it from the Cantorii as well I was likely to lose what little I'd had to eat before starting the maneuvers this morning.
Finally one Cantorii stepped forward. I looked up into his face, then he settled and folded his legs under himself so we were eye-to-eye. We studied each other for several minutes, and I knew he was trying an old Cantorii dominance game, where the first to speak loses. Around us there was the sound of people betting on who would finally break and speak. I smiled and stared into his eyes, then showed my teeth a little, giving him the 'hungry wolf' look that Lupii are infamous for in Cantorii art. That didn't budge him an inch. Almost ten full minutes after the game started he coughed violently and someone came running up with some water.
"My name is Mikel Sanger. We are fleeing an evil that has taken over our homeland. The ten thousand here are all that is left of the free peoples of the Cantorii Empire." His voice was surprisingly light for one with such a broad and deep chest. Almost a baritone, and certainly not the basso profundo I'd expected.
"I am Victor, called by some The Hero of the Goddess. How is it that the grand Cantorii Empire has fallen?" I responded to his eloquent common in almost accentless old Cantorii. The language had been almost dead during the lifetime of the Hero who'd learned it, but I was trying for a different form of "Shock and Awe" here.
It worked as I expected. His eyes lit up and his features flushed with blood. I almost gagged as he bowed and begged pardon for trying the dominance game with one so honored as me. With a wave Split-Tail came bounding up, his eyes bright with wonder at the new smells and the sight of the foreign people he'd only heard about in bed-time tales. While he looked around I waited, letting him be the child he was for a small period. Finally I tapped his shoulder and whispered.
"Bring the Parson, the Mayor and the Priestess. I fear the Cantorii bring news of what my task might be."
Split-Tail almost fell over as he scrambled to run back to the village. My news would surely be on the lips of everyone by the time I was done speaking with the Cantorii. That was one trait I wasn't going to work out of him, since he served as an efficient way to alert my troops without me having to order it done. If things worked out the way I felt they would, he'd come back with the people I'd requested, long after the squads had shown up and setup camp around me and the leader of the Cantorii.
"Speak to me as an equal, Mikel Sanger. I am no god and no ruler, just a simple person tasked with a difficult job." This I said loud enough for everyone within a hundred feet to hear. Cantorii, except for those specially trained, are almost compulsive gossipers. This statement would make news and might stop them from treating me with reverence and deference the way the Lupii were doing.
He looked up at me, then raised himself up, stood and reseated himself. Trays of fruits and vegetables were brought forward for us to eat before we spoke. I nibbled at some of it, wishing I could enjoy the apples like I had before I wound up here. Not five minutes after I'd sent Split-Tail running both squads appeared and set a cordon and flag of truce. The day suddenly looked brighter as I swallowed a grape and waited for the civilian leaders of the village to show up.
A full thirty minutes after the Truce flag was flown the Mayor and the Parson appeared, with apologies form the Priestess that she couldn't make it because of a birth happening. I nodded, then introduced them to the Cantorii leader. Finally the trays of food were cleared away and Mr. Sanger began speaking again.
"You have asked what brought an end to the Cantorii Empire. I tell you it still stands, but is no longer ruled by the council of three. Almost a month ago a Cinet came to speak to the Council about a new method for powering our extensive fabric mills....
One Month Before
Cantorople
Though the sun is high in the sky, lanterns set in front of reflectors are what lights the chambers of the ruling body of the Cantorii Empire. The clean granite walls and plastered floor did little to help the situation, but the room had just enough light for work to be done. Behind the high shelf that served as a desk to the Council three aging stallions stood.
"Well, Delash. What do you think of the Tax proposal? Would it be sound to try and bolster trade with our neighbors by dropping the tarriffs by three percent?" The one of the left, his dappled hide revealing him to be Girtash says wearily.
Next to him the Clydesdale stallion shifted his feet and gnawed on an aging stick, thinking deeply on the subject and trying to wrap his once agile mind around the problem. In recent years he'd been having a lot of trouble with math that he'd once found amazingly simple. The same skill had gotten him the appointment that had led to him entering the challenge and winning his current position as a member of the Council of Three.
"Not sure, Girtash. I really am not sure. It seems that we could stand to make a lot more money by dropping the tarriffs, but my mind isn't as quick as it once was."
The third member of the council snorted. Drakel Sanger was the youngest stallion ever to survive the challenge for a position on the council, and his inexperience with the fineries of the office showed. Impatient he looked to his right at the other two and snorted again. "This is all fine, but we must decide. Would you two prefer to table it and have one of the state accountants explain the numbers tomorrow?"
Both nodded in agreement and Delash rapped the gavel, signaling an end to the current topic for the time being. All three agreed that the mathematics of the subject were currently outside their understanding and that there was more pressing business to move on to.
"So what's next, Girtash?" It was Sanger again, prodding his aging allies into action. His youth was a startling contrast to the age of the other two members of the council. While all three had survived a challenge to the death, pictures on the walls around them showed council members stretching back to when the challenge had left all the combatants alive.
Not for the first time all three were wondering if they'd be the last to run the Empire. Reports form all regions showed that the infrastructure was breaking down as governors raised armies and claimed kingship over their part of the Empire. Sangers own son had led a Legion to put down the latest threat to the sovereignty of the Empire, and he was dissatisfied with the result. Half the Legion had died under direct bowfire when camped under a flag of truce. The minor rebellion had been put down and the ringleaders trampled to death, but there was a definite trend happening.
"I think it's the Cinet that says he's got a better way to power our textile mills."
Heads turned to look at Girtash. For centuries only other Cantorii had been allowed into the council chambers. The last time another race had entered the Chambers it had been the Hero, in his first coming. On the hot days the scent of that councils blood could still be found rising from the wood of the councils table. Delash finally pulled the thin cord that would summon the next piece of business, his hip aching where it had been damaged during his challenge almost twenty years before.
The doors swung open and a well dressed Cinet entered, surrounded by four Cantorii guards. He looked about, as if nervous, then began to speak. For a few minutes his words made sense, talking of how he'd found a way to harness a natural energy to do real work. Then the Cantorii guards dropped to their knees and finally fell to the floor vomiting blood. Then the Cinet looked up and smiled at the Cantorii before him.
"Of course, I'm not going to just give this to the Cantorii Empire. Oh no, you are going to work for me, and I, Sarkadan the Great, shall rule!" These were his last words, purple lighting flashed between his eyes and danced across his upturned porcine snout. The Cantorii guards that had died stumbled to their feet and attacked the council. The screams brought banging on the doors, then silence as everyone that responded died, choking on their own blood, only to stand and walk again, doing the bidding of their Cinet master.
The story was to incredible to not be true. And there, behind Sanger, I saw the rampant Cantorii in gold that was the emblem of a Cantorii legion. The women and children that I could smell marked this as mot being two legions, but one, with families in tow. That cemented my decision - but as the land belonged to the village still, it would take the agreement of the Parson and the Mayor to settle this.
"Know that I did not witness this myself, but heard the reports from guards that escaped the senate building alive. If you wish..." I cut Sanger off and looked to the Parson and Mayor. Both were pale and looked ill.
"Say nothing more. If it was solely my decision I'd ask you to stand as a general under me and help fight this monster. But it isn't just my decision. This land is fallow land held in reserve by the village, and as such, must be granted you by the village, and not the Hero."
I looked to the Parson and Mayor again. They were whispering with each other still when the Priestess finally walked up. She came to stand by my side and placed her hand on my shoulder, then leaned down and said, "The Goddess has given me a vision about this, and you are correct. The Cantorii are enemies no longer, and these here will now be our allies in a war that is coming this way. Runners have been sent to the other villages asking them to send men here to be trained by the Hero and his chosen Page."
At those words both the Mayor and Parson jumped and opened their mouths to protest. One glance from the Priestess and they closed their mouths and looked dejected. Once more they began to whisper to each other, obviously trying to find a way to weedle out of the heaven-sent decree. After five minutes that seemed an eternity the mayor turned to Sanger and finally spoke.
"Much as we dislike it, this is a tragedy. The Goddess has ordained this, so of course, we grant you this land until you are able to return to your homeland victorious. Whatever we can do to help you through this coming winter, just ask."
I shook hands with Sanger and we talked late into the night about strategy and the layout of the new army that I would be building with his help. Late that night, almost as the moon was setting, I bedded down and slept. The dreams were of designing the original Cantorii legions and leading them to victory against the Felins who insisted on invading the wide grasslands outside a city far from Cantorople. Then I had a distrubing dream of the day when the first Hero had stormed into the Council chamber and slaughtered the council who had ordered the war of expansion that had called him into being.
T+10
Transmatics
John Davis woke early, showered and rode the transport down fifty levels to his office. The lab AI had begun studying the science behind the platform and was now requesting extensionals so it could correct problems it saw in the designs. This worried him a great deal, since he had not designed the AI seed-core to show such a high level of independence. As the doors opened and the office lit up around him he was running checks of the system to figure out how the AI had gained an independent sapience.
Again and again he came up against changes marked as having come directly from himself that he could not identify or place. Even the code itself carried his hallmarks, so he was unable to use it to trace the actual source. The network access logs were out of access to him, as they were the realm of the security department, so he sent a request for a complete check of accesses surrounding those changes off and began designing an extensional system that would allow the AI to manipulate the platform and it's sensors.
The scientists in the lab had agreed with the AI that the changes would make the system more stable, so he didn't bother checking the numbers himself. If anything, the changes would amount to an insignifigant two or three percent increase in wormhole stability. but with the requests piling up from both scientists and the AI he had to do something. Engineering data flowed into his mind from the cortical implant and a desing for the basic extensional system slowly formed. Several hours later he had a hand-drawn diagram of the extensionals mechanical systems and was in the process of bringing his physical terminal online when the computer bleeped a double-login warning.
A face floated up in his mind as he dialed the security front-desk number. When it finally moved and introduced itself he closed his eyes and began to communicate using nothing more than thoughts trapped by his cortical node.
"This is John Davis, President of R&D. My system just gave me a double-login warning. Could you try to track the other connection, we may have a spy in the system."
He could hear his words echoing out the speakers of a physical terminal. For once he was grateful that the secuirty department had to use them for base contact numbers, as he could cross check what was sent with what he had wanted sent. The words matched, so he waited for the person on the other end to start the process.
"Understood Mr. Davis, a traceback is now in progress for both logins. We shall disregard the one from your office. Be in contact as soon as it's finished." The guard on the other end replied before disconnecting the line.
If it was a spy or other type of unauthorized access then a complete traceback could take hours and the help of several government agencies. With the more pressing business of the lab extensionals to attend to Davis opened his eyes and brought the companies engineering and design software online. His terminal bleeped as he connected to it and began dumping specifications into the software prior to using any physical input device to add the design he'd come up with. In this manner the software could check for flaws as the extensionals were designed.
After several minutes of programming the design cross-check system the room came back into focus and he looked down at the almost plotter-perfect design on his desk. His hand came to rest on the puck-like mouse that hadn't changed much in more than five-hundred years and the design slowly came to life in the software. Minute flowed into hours as he carefully added each detailed piece of metal and plastic to the system. The room around him had faded into nothingness and his world was consumed by the work in front of him, a series of lines and dots formed into complex shapes.
Almost six hours later his concentration was broken and he jolted upright as the buildings systems shut off the lights in his office, obviously having missed him and his subtle motion when it decided to try and save the company some money by turning off the lights in empty rooms. His eyes adjusted rapidly to the light filtering in from the outer office where his assistant was going about the business of keeping his schedule simple and he looked back at the screen.
He only had to add one more servo to each of the three types of extensionals he'd designed and the days work would be complete. But his illegal habit called out to him and he reached into his desk for the pipe and tobacco he kept in a locked box in one of the drawers. When he couldn't find it he jumped out of his seat and the rooms lights flashed on, blinding him temporarily. The outer door popped open and Steff, his secretary, looked in.
"I thought you were in the lab, today John."
"No, damned AI wants some extensionals so it can help in the work, so I'm designing it some specifically for the job." he replied, his face showing that he was concerned about something as much as having been blinded by the lights turning back on.
"You lose something?"
"Not really, just misplaced it and can't remember where. You know the locked wooden box I keep in the drawer here - it's missing!" He replied, the need for nicotine gnawing at him and putting him on edge now.
Stephanie Douglass frowned and couldn't place where she had last seen that box either. She knew her boss was an addict of one of the worst drugs known, but didn't let it bother her as it never interfered with his work. So she walked into the office and helped him search all the places where he might have hidden it in a picque if he'd decided to try and give it up again. For ten minutes they searched the room and it couldn't be found.
When his terminal bleeped about an incoming call he waved her off and picked up the line. "Davis here."
"Mr. Davis, we have completed the traceback and it appears the login is coming from within your department. But the signal itself is strangely routed and we may just have lost the source in the noise of all the systems it was routed through."
John fumed and almost yelled at the tech on the other end of the line, wishing he had his pipe so he could walk around smoking it while pondering this strange turn of events. He pulled out a mint, popped it in his mouth and began to pace anyway, hoping he'd have the same luck in solving complex problems without the pipe. But as he ran the problem through his mind and cross-checked it against the nets largest databases of information on the subject he kept coming up blank.
"Did you try to do a low-voltage pass-check on the systems?" He finally offered after more than five minutes of silence.
"Yes sir, that was our first pass at tracking the signal. We had better luck with the AI sort routine against the known connection list of the systems the intruder routed his signal through, but it was unable to find a track-back from system delta-one-three. Something about..."
John cut him off. He knew that identifier almost as well as he knwknew his home phone number. It was the lab AI system, but the part that was currently not hooked into the AI itself. He knew this for the simple reason that he had planned to hook it up the same day he installed the extensionals. "Flatly impossible. That system is currently offline and has no physical connection to either the buildings networks or the global networks."
"Sir, it cannot be impossible. I can give you not only the network address, but the machine specifier and even the OS information."
John walked to his chair and settled down in front of the terminal so the camera could see him again. His mind flashed through possibilities and, then he spoke again. "Send me that information hard-copy. I'll get department technicians on it, as the system that is supposed to have that internal identifier has yet to receive power."
The tech on the other end nodded then disconnected the line. John went back to the fruitless search for his pipe, pouring himself a glass of brandy in the process. When the box still hadn't turned up after turning his office inside out he settled into his chair and finished the design work for the extensionals. It had been a long day, and as he walked out of his office five minutes later he could only think about the pipe and tobacco stashed in the safe in his bedroom.
T+20
Cantorii Encampment
The scent rising from the pit was almost unbearable, but it was a necessary evil. Sanger had come across Black Powder before, but all the Cantorii used it for was entertainment. After having explained to him my idea he told me that they gathered bat guano and refined it to produce one of the components. My refining process was a lot simpler and produced more, so after having found a few local caves I set to work refining the potassium nitrate and it's close relative ammonium nitrate from it.
The other challenge was locating sulphur, but amazingly there happened to be a large deposit near one of the caves where we collected the guano. I could hardly believe my luck, or the stink, but now it was time to show the Cantorii was a rocket made of bamboo and clay could do. Though they would be highly unstable until we could work out a method of giving them fins the first few rockets I'd built would demonstrate the potential to the engineers among the Cantorii.
I mixed two batches of black powder, one with a high sulphur and low nitrate content to act as a propellant and the other with a more explosive mix. The explosive mix I corned and turned into a fine powder, to make it burn that much faster during the explosion. It was separated from the solid core of the rocket by a fine piece of a dried leaf, and sealed with a shaped clay plug that would also act as the jet of the rocket.
When everyone was away from the test models I lit the fuse on the first one. Sangers almost human jaw dropped open as the bamboo tube shot into the air and exploded a minute later. "And these can be made bigger?" he asked, stunned.
"Yes, and I plan on making small clay pots filled with the explosive mix that can be thrown at the enemy. We can even tip arrows with small versions that can be fired into the enemy lines to sow confusion."
Sanger smiled and lit the next one himself, chuckling as the second one took to the air and exploded in a brilliant flash. I was giving them crude rockets, grenades and other weapons that hadn't been seen before, making me feel a pang of regret that I had taken an innocence from them. But it didn't matter, as the enemy we were up against had powers I didn't understand and seemed able to resurrect the dead to do his bidding.
The third rocket failed spectacularly as the hardened clay plug broke apart, blowing the clay dish I had set up as a lauching plan apart. One in three wasn't bad for something put together in a hurry from crude parts. When I demonstrated a grenade for Sanger next he was ecstatic. The way the ceramic shards and embeded stones tore apart the targets we'd arranged around the device put a smile on his face.
"I'm not sure if any of this will work against the ones he's brought back to life, but they will certainly work against those who willingly follow him." Sanger said with a snort. Of course I had the same beliefs, not knowing how or why Sarkadan was able to do what he did. But explosives, previously only known to a small segment of the Cantorii population, were a weapon we could use to sow confusion among our enemies during battle.
We had reconstituted a legion from the men and women that Sanger had brought with him, and I was teaching them some tactics that had never been used. The one they really loved had been pioneered on Earth by the Zulu peoples of Africa. The Cantorii loved it for a different reason that I did - it took full use of their speed and maneuverability. I had taught them the tactic, called a 'Pincher' maneuver, because it was highly effective and had been used with great success by forces armed only with spears and knives against a force with firearms.
Sanger and half a century of his men had taken over from me as the target force for my squads of guerilla fighters. In the past week my men had successfully ambushed and attacked in various ways a much larger force, providing them with great examples of how things should be done. At the same time Sanger had started to teach his men how to spot the various types of traps and ambush, making them a more effective force as well.
My role had expanded, and aside from the three hours I spent each morning teaching Split-Tail hand to hand and sword combat, I was planning a force that could perform as well as a mechanized force when it came to rapid, blitzkrieg type warfare as well as behind-the-line type guerilla work. I wasn't happy with teaching them what I was - it was warfare the way it had been fought before the advent of WorldGov on Earth, and as such, was something these people had never encountered. But something new was necessary, as I expected Sarkadan to not only be coming at us with the full might of the Cantorii Empire, but also the full might of the Cinet tribes.
The Hero had never done any time as a Cinet tribesman and leader, but had fought against them a number of times. My memories of those battles gave me a picture of them I didn't like - they were a bloodthirsty people that rejected the Goddess and were much like the ancient Norse people had been on Earth. I remembered the dream I had had after Transmatics had sent me here and my body ached where memory said the Cinet general had put his sword through.
"So, Victor, would you like to test you skill with the sword against me?" Sanger was constantly wanting to test my skills as a warrior. Although he had already lost several bloodless duels to me, he still felt that I wasn't his equal or better, mostly thanks to me not fighting according to Cantorii rules of honor.
This day I was saved by Split-Tail. "Vic, First Squad just got done with a scout of the perimeter and came back with someone from Tapoli. There are Felins settled there and not listening to requests they move on."
I snorted, then bowed to Sanger. "Perhaps tomorrow, Tanape." I used an honorific from old Cantorii referring to the Stallion that had started his own herd. It fit Sanger well, since he had gathered these people as he left Cantorople, but he still shook his head at it.
The implications of the news Split-Tail brought were dire, indeed. The Felins lived in and near jungles several thousand miles from this area, and were fiercely territorial. If they were this far from their lands then something must have happened that even those fierce warriors couldn't handle. There had been three Hero's that were Felin, and those times it had been more saving them from a natural disaster or helping them develop more permanent forms of civilization, but the last time had been a mass invasion by the Cinet hordes, aided by a group of ape-like creatures that claimed the Felins had taken their ancestral homes.
I cleaned up and selected First squad to accompany me to the Felin camp. Not that I didn't trust second squad or the newer ones that were slowly forming as other Lupii settlements sent men to be trained by me, but they were the most experienced. We left as dusk settled across the land, the messenger in tow, telling us what had occurred so far. The situation was worse than I'd expected, as the Felin had simply shown up one day and claimed several of the fields that were due to be planted during the next growing season.
Felins were highly territorial, and if they'd claimed that land, there was almost nothing that would get them to move. But I needed them outside the village near the Cantorii - I was building an army to fight Sarkadan and all my troops would train so they could fight as a cohesive force. My swords felt light in their sheaths as I loped along the trail, surrounded by the eight men of First Squad, Split-Tail by my side, carrying a light bow and my practice blades, which could be dangerous in battle by themselves.
As the moon reached it's zenith I motioned to Tomas and let him know to set sentries and make camp for the night. We had brought no food, just our weapons and the fire tonight would just be for warmth as the autumn weather was turning cold. He quickly detailed off a pair to stand the first watch and I settled and pulled some tinder from my pouch. Split-Tail had begun making a fire pit, and Tomas was quick to detail pairs to collect wood and make the temporary latrine.
Yes, I was teaching them sanitary measures, not just for sanitations sake, but also because a latrine pit is easily closed and can conceal signs of presence. That in and of itself was a good thing, as I expected First Squad and all other Lupii units to spend a good deal of their time behind enemy lines once the conflict began. Soon enough I was striking a flint against my knife, quickly catching the tinder and starting the fire. A storm that had passed just the day before left us short of dry wood, so our fire was smoky, but luckily we had found something similar to creosote and the smoke was keeping insects at bay.
"Tomas, by noon tomorrow I expect to meet with the leader of the Felin force. Tell the men that I may have to fight him for leadership of his clan. Pass the word that no one shall interfere unless the Felin do first."
Fully understanding the gravity of my warning he passed the word to the pairs that were off working on the latrine and standing sentry. Working from my knowledge of how the Felin's laid out their camps and minimal knowledge of the terrain supplied by the messenger I laid out a plan of attack if diplomacy failed. The Felin people relied as much on their built-in weapons, razor-sharp retractable claws and long fangs, as much as the assegi-like stabbing spear they favored for warfare.
The plan worked itself out simply, and I curled up to let sleep take me. All to soon I might be seeing it in action, and hereditary hatred seemed to exist between the Felin's and the Lupii, although they had never competed for food or land. As I drifted off to sleep I saw an image of John Davis, the head of R&D at Transmatics. He was speaking but I couldn't hear anything, and although I had been an amatuer lip-reader, nothing made sense. My mind filed it as an early dream and I settled into sleep.
The sun hadn't even rose behind the horizon when a dream of the wife of an early Hero woke me from my sleep. I heard myself muttering her name and could clearly remember the wedding ceremony before my eyes slid open and I stretched, welcoming the new day. After I'd stood and shook the detritus of the forest floor from my fur I prodded Split-Tail with a light kick and headed to the latrine. Before we broke camp I'd go over our plan for dealing with the Felin.
When I got back to camp the fire was going again and there were several rabbits on spits over the pit. A smile spread across my face and my tail began to wag by itself as the smell wafted to me, causing my stomach to rumble and mouth to water. Hopefully no one had broken protocol by hunting while on sentry duty, but even if they had, food was a welcome sight. I settled into an easy crouch and called the squad to me.
"Tomas, if they refuse to meet under a truce flag and refuse my challenge for leadership you are to fire arrows into every tent and lob unlit grenades into every fire pit. This should create enough confusion for me to get away from the camp. Then have two pairs join me and we will take the leader and force them to meet."
He nodded, and explained the finer details to the men who were far enough enough that my low-whisper didn't reach their ears. The plan was simplicity itself, and I was glad I'd had them grab what grenades we had before setting out. Nothing like spreading shock and awe through an intransigant people to get them to be diplomatic. Then we ate, silently and without complaints or recriminations among the men. We might have to go to war today, and who knew if any of us would survive.
As we broke camp I was tempted to send Split-Tail and the messenger to safety, but I knew both would refuse to obey such an order. I was the Hero, and they believed that the people I led were always victorious in battle. As hard as I had tried since having the mantle forced on me by the 'impartial' Goddess, I had been unable to dissuade them of that fact. Even giving them details of casualties from battles of previous Hero's was unable to break their faith that men led by the Hero into battle are invincible.
Hours later the sun was reaching a noon-time position and we still hadn't broken the woods and into the fields that border each village. I checked the trail and spoke with the messenger after stopping by a stream and letting the men rest and drink. The messenger informed me that we were close, although he had been running full speed to reach 'The Hero' with the news and so hadn't had time to leave trail markers. That news didn't bother me much, as the wind turned and I could smell the smoke of a town mixed with the scents of Felins washing over me.
After giving the men a half-hour to drink water and loosen up from the march we were back in motion. Less than an hour later we broke the tree-line and almost walked right into a Felin latrine. Wedetoured around the open latrines and I detailed the men out into an honor guard as we walked deeper into the Felin camp. Murmurs surrounded us, and quite a few of the Felin's openly hissed at my men if they didn't see me first and somehow know I was the Hero.
Though that recognition might have been from the swords, or even a physical aspect of my body. During my time on this world I had yet to see a relection of myself, so I had no idea if I had some marking that identified me. For all I knew I had the word 'Hero' in vibrant colors on my forehead. But eventually we came to a tent fit for a Bedoin Sheik and stopped.
As clear as I could I announced myself in the Felin language, calling for the leader to step out for a parley. A number of Felins gasped in surprise at my command of their difficult language, and one who thought himself out of my eyesight took off, running towards another part of the camp. So I squatted to wait for their leader to show up, hoping that the runner had gone to fetch him. My wait was short, as there was an annoyed roar from inside the tent and a female Felin sheepishly walked out and away shortly after.
Another ten mintues passed before the Felin leader stepped out of his tent and glared at me. I could feel the cold rage in his glare, and ignored it. His scarred muzzle and chest, combined with his majestic mane of hair announced exactly who he was. I'd seen a figure like him in my dreams of the night before, in a mirror I had looked into. No doubt the Goddess was trying to assuage the wrong she'd done me with this role by giving me a bit of knowledge ahead of time.
I waited for several minutes, then slowly stood and placed my hand on the hilt of Tango-Ka. The wait and seemingly casual disregard of him was a way of saying I ranked above him in their hierarchical society. His growl and visible fangs showed that he knew I had delibrately slighted him, and he didn't take to kindly to it. My eyes were locked on his and I waited to see if he'd attack me to prove his dominance or start the conversation.
"I am Leng Khentyn, General of the Liges Clan and leader of these people. You seem to claim a heritage greater than yourself. Explain and be done with it." His words were in unaccented common, and a challenge in themselves. That type of challenge had two possible answers in Felin culture, so I decided on the slightly less violent one.
"I am Ghost-Fang, chosen Hero of the Goddess. If you wish to test this, then let it be now." I answered in the Felin tongue, wishing all of his people to understand what was said. The challenge had been answered and the ball was back in his court. If he decided to challenge my claim of being the Hero it would be a fight, unarmed and unarmored until one of us gave up or died. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
He examined me closely, his eyes examining the visible hilt of Tengis-Ka and settling on my torso. I had noticed what I'd assumed was a stripe of somesort on my chest, but the limitations of the way my face was laid out didn't allow me to really see much of it. Perhaps I had a unique marking there that made me the Hero, but it didn't matter. He roared and then began to laugh, seeing my men take a step back and reach for their weapons.
"Welcome, Hero. I assume you are here because we have claimed this land?" Right to the point. That was something I really admired about the Felin people.
I nodded, then spoke. "Yes, but call me Victor, as that was my name before becoming the Hero... I have heard from the Cantorii that a Cinet named Sarkadan has taken over their homeland. Knowing the history of your people and their relations with the Cinet hordes..."
He interrupted me with a roar. I looked at him unsurprised and unworried, as the possibility that he could attack me without recrimination had passed when he declined the challenge. But what had brought that roar - was it the mention of the Cinet, had I struck a nerve? My mind raced, trying to put together the too-few pieces of this puzzle when he began speaking again.
"Two months past the Cinet Hordes invaded again. We'd strike them down just to see the corpses rise and attack again..."
Two Months Ago
Felin Savannah
The first warnign of the attack was a single family of Felin wandering into their camp. Khentyn brought them into his tent and asked what had happened. At the mention of a Cinet raid he roared, then opened his clan to the family, making them part of his own. The Cinet had been enemies of the Felin for nearly a century, and then had only been stopped because of the Hero that had come. His blades had disappeared one day, but for many years they had lain in the temple, carefully cared for lest they turn to dust.
That had been before Khentyn had been born. Now the Cinet were attacking again, and they were on their own. He sent the family off to get cleaned up and fed, then called in the men who led his forces. They each entered and raised a hand in salute before sitting at the table to await the start of the meeting. It took nearly an hour for all of them to arrive, as the clan he was head of was the largest of all the Felin clans.
"You all have heard by now about the family that I just welcomed into the clan. Clan Fortis is no more, crushed by a Cinet raid. The Cinet are bringing war against us once again, and I say it stops with us." His voice had an audible growl to it, and his hatred of the Cinet was underscored by the way he spit the name out, as if the word itself had a foul taste.
His subordinates looked at each other, then roared in agreement. Tomorrow they'd send the non-combatants to a safe camp and head off to bring war to the Cinet before the Cinet could reach them. Plans were made and messengers sent, but it was all for naught. As the meeting broke up the Cinet descended on the camps of the Liges clan.
"We once numbered more than five-hundred score. The Cinet were unstoppable. Unless we took off their heads, the dead would rise and resume the assault." His voice was tinged with anger, sadness and regret. All emotions were also carried in his scent.
"The cuts on my arm are from the corpse of my Brother, who was struck down by a Cinet blade through the stomach and died in my arms an hour into the fight to throw them off. He was dead, but stood and attacked me." You could almost smell the tears that the massive Felin was repressing. Necromancy of that sort ran counter to every part of their culture, and to be attacked by a relative, dead or alive, is even worse.
For once I had no idea of what to say. Sanger had reported similar from the taking of the Council of Three, but I had discounted those as rumors based on incomplete information. To hear a first-hand account of such a foul act sickened me. I spat then offered my hand in friendship.
"Leng Khentyn, I offer you the friendship of the Hero, and the help of my people and all those who have chosen to follow me in regaining your homelands. Only one day away through these woods I have a wide field, plentiful food and water. There I am training an Army to stop the Cinet. Will you join me?"
He grasped my hand and squoze, an ancient tradition common among all the peoples of this world. "I accept your offer, Hero, and am honored. My people will join your army."
T+31
Transmatics
The parts had finally reached the lab after more than a week of calls to the internal fabrication department. Davis began installing them immediately, working around the technicians that were finishing the re-wiring and rebuilding of the transit platform. For half a dozen people the job was complex, but the company had declared a voluntary holiday, and most of the people had taken it.
The night before John had been checking on the seed AI's progress and noted that it was cataloging all kinds of information that would be of little use to the project. He tried to stop it from the deliberate accesses of useless data, but once started, an AI is hard to stop until it gains sentience. He'd hoped it would have hit sentience, but the crew hadn't been interacting with it at all, and that was a problem. For the neural network to develop properly it needed interactions of all kinds.
The fact that the AI hadn't gone sentient was a hint that someone else had made the request for extensionals and stamped it as having come from the lab systems. It tied in nicely with the multiple login he'd seen a week before that seemed to originate in the lab. A final power connection and the extensional ran a self-test before reporting that it existed to the primitives in the AI. Davis shook his head, left the other three in their packing crates and called security from his cortical node.
"Security office, how can we help you?"
"This is John Davis, President of Research and Developement. We have had a confirmed security breach in Lab Alpha Five Delta. I believe there might be a rogue AI hiding in the systems."
"Okay Mr. Davis. Do you have anything beyond suspicions?" Of course the security department wouldn't take his word. They required something solid, because of the number of false calls they got in a single day. John sighed, and expression not transmitted over the purely virtual connection then racked his brain for any evidence other than the faked request and the double-login.
"Nothing concrete. A week or so back there was a double-login to my account traced back to this lab and a system that should not have been online. About the same time a request for extensionals came in from the new AI in the lab. The problem is that a check today shows that the AI has not yet gained sentience or sapience." It was all he had, but it might be enough for security to try and solve the puzzle.
At that moment the extensional whirred to life and began working at installing it's still-boxed siblings. John noted this and reported the action to the security office as well. Something was rotten in Denmark and John Davis was going to make sure security figured out what it was. As soon as security dropped the line he turned and began looking into the systems to see what was controlling the extensional.
But the second he touched the terminal the extensional shut down and all activity besides the AI seed's information hunt ceased. John cursed and went back to hooking up the other extensionals, cursing his recent run of bad luck. If it wasn't for the laws governing the world he'd resign - but that would leave him in a bind, since WorldGov required all people to have a job. They'd made an exception for Fliegel, since he was technically unemployable with the lack of a cortical node, but they wouldn't make an exception for John Davis.
His cortical node flashed a signal about a communication request. With the peculiar mental blink that governed the device John accepted the connection. He was greeted with a blast of energy and the face of an AI. In a split second his cortical node overloaded and John Davis ceased to exist, killed by an AI that wasn't supposed to exist.
"Any ideas?" The corporate medical examiner was speaking with her counterpart with WorldGov. She'd conducted an autopsy and hadn't noticed the neural scarring around the cortical node. Or rather, she would have noticed it if something hadn't edited the data coming from her prosthetic eyes.
Thomas Hazel shrugged. He hadn't gotten to perform the autopsy himself, and since the law stated that corporate entities were allowed to determine cause of death when their employees died unexpectedly he hadn't bothered to examine the body himself. The data was puzzling to him as well, since everything seemed to point to a stroke, but there was no sign of the clot that had caused it. His eyes scanned the data and a flicker of intuition had him wondering if it wasn't something rather generic that hadn't been seen in a few generations.
"Are you sure his cortical node didn't short?"
"Positive Tom. No sign of electrical burns or scarring in the surrounding tissue." Janet Douglas was tired of this conversation, as it was just leading both parties around on a wild goose chase. She decided to name something innocuous and send the body off for disposal.
"Tom, I'm going to note this as a potential heart attack and send the body off. You want to challenge it?"
"Janet, we've known each other for how many years now? Do you really think I'd challenge a ruling you made?"
She smiled and wished him good luck then disconnected the line and filed the paperwork stating the cause of death as being a heart attack. By the end of the next day the body would have been processed into food.
T+2 months
Hero's Cabin
I was pacing around the only finished room of the cabin the village had begun building for me. At the moment only my office, that is, the office of the head of the Telis Cinet'o or 'Fighters of the Cinet', was finished. The pacing was because the Felin had been around for just over a month and I still had no idea what to do with them.
Weapons were no problem, as the Cantorii proved formidable in that area, having the knowledge and ingenuity to produce mills and furnaces to refine the raw Iron that had been discovered only two days away. It was mined and refined at the same place, then shipped to the forges that rang all day long in their camp. They produced arrowheads, blades and some simple forms of armor for themselves. They had studied my breastplate and declared it to be a masterful piece, but one they were not sure they could reproduce.
The Felin, on the other hand, had so far kept to themselves, aside from General Leng being at the meetings so he could learn how we were building the force to work. To date he had had nothing useful to say, always pointing out that the Hero had taught them war long before the title passed to me. The one time I had tried to explain that I was teaching a new type of warfare he laughed and walked out of the meeting, sure that the old ways would be what won the battle.
In her corner chair with writing implements was Tam'I, Split-Tails grandmother and my secretary. She patiently watched me pace as I tried to figure out how to handle the Felin. I couldn't use them as grenadiers, since they'd be just as likely to blow themselves up in an attempt to 'die gloriously' as carefully throw each grenade for the maximum impact. Though they could move silently and without a trail in almost any terrain I would be unable to use them as scouts, for the same reason.
If he could split off the Felin that had been indoctrinated and raised to be warriors who happened to fight side by side then he could use the others for front-line troops. "Dear Goddess, what am I to do with them?" I muttered for probably the hundredth time that day. The older, blooded Felin were stuck in their ways an unlikely to change. Their bloodlust and pride in personal prowess at war was almost like what he had been trying to instill in his Lupii guerilla...
The ideas finally clicked together and I had an answer. "Tam'I, I've done it. We need to separate the Felin young enough to have not seen battle but old enough to fight into units that can be trained to be part of the army. The veterans we will train as extra units similar to those I've built from the Lupii."
She jotted down the information then looked up at me, puzzled. Unsure as to what could have troubled her I smiled and motioned for her to speak her mind.
"Hero, what kind of unit should I list for the younger Felin? I've listed the other ones using your term, how is it said, umm, 'Guerilla', but..."
Ah, so that was it. She needed something to put in the records for what type of unit I'd form the younger Felin into. That sent me back to my pacing, as I wasn't sure where or how we could use them at all. My mind racing I absentmindedly reached for a non-existent pack of cigarettes - a habit the Future had forced me to give up and which was unknown in this one. "Frak!" I muttered and went back to pacing, racking my brains for an answer. Lifetimes of warfare didn't help in this situation, and the history classes I'd had focused more on events and the societies than their military organization.
But I had seen a lot of movies and read a number of books on ancient military battles. I just wished I'd spent more time on the peoples of Greece and Egypt, since their armies were amazingly deadly and well organized. My legs finally told me I'd paced about enough and I sat in the chair that the Mayor had given me and scratched my head. The problem was more complex than I can describe, since my army already had units for Napoleonic style battles, and even some being trained in other tactics.
The Felin would not make good archers, nor could I place them in charge of the rockets, as both were better done by the Cantorii. I might be able to train some of the young Felin as Grenadiers, since we did need even more... But unity of this army would best be served by keeping the races in separate units. If I tried making integrated units cultural and racial differences would eventually tear everything apart.
My mind was going in circles, almost driving me to start pacing again. The problem was just that I wasn't sure if I could use them for anything more than shock-value, cannon fodder sent in to break the enemy lines before the main body of the force struck. Then it hit me, I could do exactly that. Done right I could produce a force of shock troops that appeared to be a non-cohesive band of individual fighters, but were actually small squads that worked together to break the enemy lines and foul the cohesiveness of the enemy force. Somehow I would have to find a way to train them so they understood that working together in groups of four or six would make them more powerful.
Tomorrow I'd approach General Leng with this idea. Since the Felin had fealty to him by way of clan ties, I had to go through him. I could go around him, certainly, as I am the Hero and such is my right... But that would lead to many problems, as the veterans would be more likely to follow Leng Khentyn if I slighted him and he decided to leave. The veterans leaving would almost certainly cause more than half the remaining Felin to follow. And that wasn't what Leng was likely to do. He'd be more likely to launch attacks on the village and the Cantorii, in a bid to seize control himself.
But for now it was time to head out and work on turning some of the Cantorii into something like knights. I wouldn't be able to produce real knights, but teaching them calvary charges with long spears discarded rapidly for swords was quite a workout. So far they'd managed to missed the fact that the spears were a shock weapon, designed to clear the likely shield line so the swords would be more effective. But that didn't matter, since they'd get the idea today when I took them on a patrol and let them be ambushed.
The easy work done I pulls my harness from it's hooks and strapped it on. The familiar weight of my swords reassured me a bit, but I was still worried that Leng wouldn't understand the value of my idea. Not that it mattered much today, since the rest of the day would be consumed by the training of the Cantorii and more work with Split-T