by Hubbert, Jim
“I don’t know. Maybe I was wrong about where they’ve built their stronghold.” He said no more, but was clearly worried. Late that night, hordes of Wasps, more than anyone had ever seen before, droned across the sky, heading east.
Orville led the armies down onto the huge plain of Musashino. The vast flatland was covered with rushes, small groves of trees scattered here and there. Along the coast lay a few Emishi villages. The land was overrun with tens of thousands of deer that had never seen a hunter, along with huge numbers of fox, badgers, and weasels.
Scouts were sent to the top of any rise in the ground. They built towers to survey the land, but haze obscured the northern mountains. To the east, they could make out a vast, shallow lagoon fed by a huge river. The lagoon was covered with what at first seemed to be white fog or haze. On closer inspection they realized it was flocks of migrating cranes and swans.
Takahaya was not happy in this new terrain. He murmured to himself, “I don’t know how we’re going to defend ourselves in this country.” His fears were justified. The armies were hauling huge catapults, and the baggage train extended for many ri. Defending this huge collection of men and pack animals would be difficult when the plain offered so few natural defensive positions. Takahaya was nervous and repeatedly sent cavalry to reconnoiter. But the enemy was almost disappointingly few, numbering only an occasional Red Snipe. After three days’ march, the armies went into bivouac in the lee of a small, beach-rimmed cape called Atago Hill.
That evening, Miyo climbed the hill in search of Orville, who had still not returned from an earlier errand. He had opened his heart to her in their camp at Lake Hamana, and they had become still more intimate since. But when they entered the plain of Musashino, he had donned his warrior’s armor. Miyo was unsettled.
“Why are you so anxious? There probably isn’t a mononoké within a hundred ri of this place,” said Miyo.
“That’s what bothers me,” Orville replied. He peered into the dark. His vision was keen even on starless nights. “If I were the enemy, I’d lure us out onto this plain and surround us,” he said in a low voice. “Our supply lines are stretched to the limit, and winter will be here soon. It’s the perfect time for them to strike. Why don’t they come?”
“They must be hiding in the mountains,” said Miyo. “You said yourself that they like the metals they find there.”
“Perhaps. Or they might be planning a flanking move from the north, down the Nakasen Road. But I raised cairns in that direction. We’ve been keeping a close watch and we’ve seen nothing.”
“Could you send Wasps?”
“I already have, but the air from here to Kofu is full of FET. They make it hard to do good reconnaissance.”
“The Snipes never leave us in peace,” said Miyo, her voice defeated. “Red Snipes” was the name the men had given to the flying ET. They posed little threat to the armies and few took them seriously. But FET did target Orville’s Wasps, and they were victorious more often than not.
Orville was silent for some time, deep in thought. Suddenly he said, “We should build a settlement here.”
“You mean stay the winter?” Miyo was astonished. Orville nodded.
“Withdrawing now would not be wise, and I don’t like our dependence on pack trains from the west for provisions. Game is plentiful here. We could even plant grain and bring the women from Yamatai. The men could settle down, gather stone, fell trees, and fortify the settlement.”
“You would have us stand our ground here till next year?”
“Next year or the year after, until this land is fully under our control.” Miyo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Do you miss your country? You can go back. It’s all right with me,” he said.
“You’re not serious.” Miyo glared at him, but Orville just laughed. It was a strong laugh, full of warmth.
Next day the armies began the laborious preparations for overwintering. Men were sent out to cut down trees. Hunters fanned out in all directions in search of deer and boar. Those whose nagging injuries kept them from seeking game went to gather wild fruit. A stockade was raised, moats were dug, and a storehouse for grain was built. Every female survivor from the villages in a hundred-ri radius was brought to the camp. Then the wives and children of the older soldiers began arriving from Yamatai. The fortress of Atago began to take on the features of a town.
Orville sent out Wasps and scouts, not only over the plain but to Hitachi and Shimotsuke—even as far as Iwaki in the northeast. But the country was empty except for deer and other wild animals.
“Maybe the mononoké died out? Maybe only the Snipes survive, and only because we cannot bring them down.” Kan’s unsophisticated surmise even started Cutty deliberating seriously, but she decided there was not enough data to reach a conclusion.
And so autumn passed peacefully into winter. The stockade and moat were completed three days after the first snowfall decked the plain with white. Then the last supply train arrived from Yamatai, and the fortress gate was closed.
That night, the enemy came.
Miyo’s dreams were cut off by a detonation that rocked the ground beneath her. She sprang up, fumbled with her tunic, and raced to the door. The next instant Orville was by her side. A red flash lit the sky. The north gate of the fortress splintered under an exploding shell. More shells rained down on the north side of the fort. The building rocked with each impact.
The instant Orville saw the explosions, he groaned in despair. “Cannons. They’ve got artillery!”“What do you mean? Is the fire another mononoké?” said Miyo. Orville said nothing but went to get his sword. Cutty’s rapid-fire updates poured from the magatama bead. “Warning, artillery detected. Fifty units, large-caliber, ballistic. Explosive projectiles. Ground troops detected five hundred meters from the north wall. Fifty…eighty…one hundred twenty ETs. Thermal stealth—no, low-temperature cloaking. The enemy are disguised as animals!”
“I don’t believe it,” said Orville. “The Wasps would see right through that. What about magnetic and sonic scanning?”
“Sonic scanning is limited by Wasp wing beats. Apparently the enemy’s sonic signature fell below that limit. Magnetic scanning is ineffective in this area due to the geology.”
“What, metal deposits on a floodplain? No way. The ET must have seeded the area!”
“In that case we have a real problem, O. You built your fortress in the center of the spider’s web.”
“Enough! There’s work to do!” shouted Orville. He ran, cursing, to meet the enemy, sword in hand. At last the war trumpets began to blare from the watchtowers. Stunned soldiers poured from their quarters, struggling to don their armor. Miyo shouted to Cutty, “I’m sending troops to the north. Is that where they should go?”
“Keep the men well dispersed. The shells—” Cutty’s voice disappeared in the roar of a huge detonation. Miyo was blown off her feet. The world spun around her, then the ground came up. She lost consciousness.
She did not know how much time had passed. It might have been seconds or hours. Her ears were buzzing. She could hear the frantic screaming of the slaves, the shouts of the men, and even Cutty’s voice, but everything was strangely muffled. She had no idea what was happening. Then someone slapped her lightly on the cheek.
“Lady Miyo!” Kan’s voice was hoarse. Miyo opened her eyes to find him bending over her, his face streaked with tears. Gradually her senses returned, but each was sending the same message: pain. Miyo shuddered as the agony took concrete form. Kan was distraught. “Where does it hurt?”“Everywhere. Help me up.” As she sat up, she tensed her arms and legs and tried to move them. She could not raise her right arm. She turned toward her shoulder and just as quickly looked away. The bones must have shattered. Her shoulder was deformed, her back scorched. She must have been thrown clear of the building and struck the ground. She grabbed Kan with her left hand. “Don’t touch my right side, I tell you! What happened?”
Instead of answering, he looked over Miyo’s shoulder. S
he turned to see her quarters reduced to a pile of burning debris, as if a volcano had erupted beneath them. “A fireball struck,” said Kan.
“Where is Takahaya?” Again Miyo’s words were cut off by an explosion from another part of the stockade. A wail of despair came from one of the watchtowers. “The sea wall!” A great shout rose from a thousand throats. Soldiers streamed past them, racing to defend the opening in the wall. Miyo shouted to Kan through the din.
“Where is Takahaya? Where are the catapults?”
“I don’t know,” Kan shouted back. “I came as soon as you were hit.”
Three more explosions. The northeast tower toppled slowly, like a tree felled by loggers. Battle cries and the ringing of swords came from all directions. The war trumpets blew wildly. Captains bellowed at their men. Soldiers ran toward their assembly points, others wandered in a daze. It was perfect chaos. Miyo shouted into the magatama, “Where is the enemy’s main force?”
“All around you,” Cutty replied quietly. Miyo sagged with shock. “Just before the attack, thermal signatures of deer and boar were detected encircling the compound,” said Cutty in the same dismal tone.
“How many?”
“Three thousand seven hundred.” Just then a roar of voices rose from the eastern ramparts. Bloodied soldiers came streaming back from the line, shouting in panic, their swords ruined, some nothing more than shards. Slow-moving Reapers loomed behind them in the smoky darkness. In the light from the torches their bodies were rust red, clearly different from before. Miyo remembered the first of these beasts that she had seen up on the mountain, and how its unyielding body had broken Kan’s sword with ease.
“It’s just as I feared. They found the mines at Kamaishi.” It was Orville.
“Messenger O?” Miyo strained to hear him through the magatama. He was gasping for breath. It sounded like he was in the middle of combat.
“They’re using iron catalysis to make gunpowder—that puts them a thousand years ahead of us. It’s no use; we can’t fight this. You’ve got to give the order to withdraw.”
“Withdraw? After all our work?”
“We need reinforcements from other countr—” The word was swallowed by a scream.
“Messenger O!” Miyo shouted. All she could hear was Orville panting as he grappled with some foe. She looked toward the north. Beyond the smoldering stockade, the rumble of explosions sounded like the foreshocks of an earthquake. A mass of burly Hayato warriors rushing with log rams pushed forward to repel the ET advancing into the fortress. Takahaya was there, and he turned and shouted to Miyo. “Queen Himiko! You must flee!”
“Push them back, recall your men, and prepare to withdraw!” Miyo shouted in reply. She stood up, but a wave of agony from her shoulder nearly brought her to her knees. Instantly Kan was beside her, lifting her onto his back. “Give the order, my lady. I will bear you.” Miyo nodded and shouted for all to hear, “Men and women of Wa, to the west! Follow your queen!”
Perhaps the counterattack had been somewhat successful. The shells stopped falling. People emerged from their huts with everything they could carry. The Hayato ran ahead to the west side of the stockade, to repel the enemy who would be waiting there.
“Messenger O, we leave through the west gate. Join us, quickly,” said Miyo into the magatama.
“No. I have to hold them here, otherwise they will follow you.”
“Orville!” cried Miyo fearfully, but the Messenger laughed. His voice was suddenly dry, like a summer wind. “Spare me the histrionics, I’ve got my hands full. I’ll follow you as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting!” said Miyo. One of the Hayato brought over a horse. Kan jumped into the saddle, and the men helped Miyo climb up behind him.
“You can ride?” she asked with surprise.
“I’ve learned,” he answered in a low voice, and drew himself up with pride. Miyo realized his voice was finally starting to break. He shouted, “Open the gate!”
The enemy stood lurking in the darkness just beyond the light of the torches. A barrage of fire tore the gate apart. The Hayato ran forward, screaming their war cry. Miyo held tight to Kan and the boy spurred his horse.
Of those who had crossed the Sasago Pass that autumn, just over half made it back to the west side. From there they marched to the sea, where Orville finally joined them. But soon the enemy, far stronger now, caught up and hit them hard. Very few of the men Takahaya fed into the maw of that terrible machine returned alive. Stripped of their catapults, tormented by hunger and cold, the armies retreated, leaving a trail of the sick and the dead like grains of rice trailing a torn sack. Orville’s Wasps could not approach an enemy equipped with firearms. High in the sky over the dwindling armies of Yamatai, the enemy FET circled in dismal swarms, like the great birds who fed on the bodies of the dead in far-off Maya. By the time the armies reached the snow-clad shores of Lake Hamana, their numbers had shrunk by more than two men in three.
“Well, we can expect no help from China,” said Cutty. The Yamatai forces were now gathered by the lake, in more of a bivouac than a defensible encampment. The snow fell heavily.“The Western Jin Empire sent four hundred thousand to fight the ET in northern China. Messengers from Lishan Station are assisting them, but the situation on the ground is not developing to our advantage. The battle in East Africa is shifting toward Lake Victoria. The enemy forces are increasing rapidly. Messengers in cryostasis at Uluru Station in Australia have been urgently mobilized to deal with an ET communications node I discovered on Mount Bruce.”
Miyo glanced at Orville and looked away. He had become terribly gaunt. His armor, which he now wore night and day, was riddled with holes and cracks. It was a wonder he wasn’t badly injured. Or was he?
“O, are you all right?”
“I heal quickly,” Orville replied. He emptied a large cup of sake in one gulp, but this only increased Miyo’s concern. She took his hand. “You must rest. For one day, or even one night.”
“Rest? No. This is one war we can’t afford to lose. We’ve reached the end of the road,” he said.
“But couldn’t you go back into the past,” said Miyo, “and try again?”
“It’s not that simple,” Cutty interjected. “This entire conflict has reached a turning point. For the last thousand centuries we have consistently frustrated the enemy’s plans, sweeping their fragmented forces off the map of time before they can replicate past the point of critical mass. If they defeat us here, their numbers will grow exponentially. The advantage we’ve enjoyed until now will be gone. Then the ET will upstream and destroy us where we first appeared in the past. But…” A new tone crept into Cutty’s voice. “O, has it ever occurred to you that we could automate the upstreaming process into an endless loop?”
“Don’t even think it!” Orville shouted. “Another hundred thousand years of fighting? Give up everything we’ve won so far, and keep doing it over and over till we get it right? Maybe we should just redo evolution from the beginning! What a load of crap.” He hurled his cup across the tent.
“We would have to build an antimatter plant,” said Cutty, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Our energy supplies are dangerously low.”
“That’s why we have to finish this here, in this timestream,” snapped Orville. “We have no choice.”
“Naturally. After all, there’s Miyo to consider,” said Cutty quietly. The color drained from Orville’s face. “Miyo is here, so you cling to this stream. Isn’t that correct?”
Orville recovered his ability to speak after a long moment. “Cutty, are you malfunctioning? What are you talking about?” He spoke slowly, with a hint of menace. Cutty’s reply came in a voice nearly devoid of expression.
“It is time for me to reevaluate our strategy from the ground up. I may have to carry out a full-scale retreat and reorganize our forces. If necessary, I can travel to multiple star systems, building strong points along the way. To do this, I will require all the antimatter in this timestream. That includes the an
timatter that now powers the Messengers.”
“You’d fight on alone?” said Orville. “And sacrifice all of us in the process?”
“There is that option.” Cutty’s voice was like ice. “If reinforcements from the future fail to appear, I’ll create them myself. Everything depends on how things develop in this timestream.”
“Go ahead and try it,” Orville said. “I’ll warn every Messenger and see that you’re destroyed.”
“How interesting, since I have a kill switch for each of you.”
Miyo could not bear to hear more. “Stop it, both of you! What about the Laws? Where did they come from, if not from you? How can we stop the mononoké unless we join hands and combine our strength?”
Cutty and Orville fell silent. Kan’s voice came from outside the tent. Miyo told him to enter, and his head appeared at the tent flap. After a long look at Orville, he finally spoke, his voice downcast, “The messenger from Yamatai has returned. Lord Ikima says he cannot send us further provisions until spring.”
“How unfortunate,” said Cutty. Miyo glanced sharply at the magatama. Cutty was an AI. Doubtless the statement was meant to be taken at face value. Yet the hint of sarcasm was unmistakable.
There was a rumble like thunder in the distance. Another explosion. Orville grasped his sword and stood up. Miyo clutched at him. “Wait—”
“I won’t be long,” he answered. She looked up at him. He was wearing the inscrutable smile she had not seen for months. A tired smile, one with nothing left to hide.
They could hear Takahaya now, rallying his men. Miyo’s right shoulder was throbbing. Orville had used another of his mysterious techniques to treat her injury, but she discovered that accelerated healing brought heightened fever and pain. Yet Orville suffered physical trauma almost daily. How much pain had he experienced? How much of his strength had been used up simply to recover?
Miyo stood and followed him out of the tent. She resolved never to speak of her pain again.