by Craig Zerf
With that in mind, both Ammon and Seth pored over a detailed map of the area and surrounds. Ammon stabbed at the map with his finger.
‘There, there and there,’ he said. ‘We need full battle groups occupying Axeminster, Tiverton, South Moulton and Lynton. We also need small battle groups in every major fishing village on both the north and south side of the coast from Cornwall to Somerset. Another fifty fast battle groups patrolling the area. Each fast battle group to have at least one human horse rider, preferably two. I want our next major encampment to be built here, this side of the river outside Tiverton.’
Seth nodded. ‘I agree. When and who?’
‘As soon as possible. I shall send three hundred and fifty thousand battle Orcs, one two hundred and fifty thousand goblins and twenty Fair-Folk leaders. How many top mages can you spare?’
Seth thought for a while. ‘I don’t want to send any of the top twelve. Without the full circle, our powers diminish. However, I can send four high level wizards. Good enough for both healing and minor battle spells.’
Ammon nodded his approval. ‘Do it.’
‘What about constructs?’ Asked the mage.
Ammon shook his head. ‘I have a theory. Instead of constructs we shall call for human volunteers. They can serve, fetch and carry. Help to build. We need all of the constructs here to aid the birthing of the new Orcs and goblins.’
Seth looked doubtful. ‘Why would the humans help?’
‘I have no idea,’ admitted Ammon. ‘However, I know that they will. We have arrived at a crossroads in their development and they are looking to belong. Looking for a cause, a goal, as it were. Not all, but enough will be willing, even eager, to serve us.’
And commander Ammon was right. But, at the same time, he was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Chapter 13
Nathaniel drifted through the darkness, heading towards the university campus. It didn’t take him long to walk the four miles and when he got close there was no way that he could miss the place.
The campus was surrounded by a chain link fence and the students had built ten foot high platforms every hundred yards or so. On top of each platform was what seemed to be a large parabolic mirror on a swivel with a fire grate suspended in front of it. The reflected light from the fire was concentrated by the mirror and beamed out to around one hundred yards as a bright, sodium yellow, searchlight. Nathaniel had to admit that it was pure genius. In a world without electricity The Students had constructed searchlights!
The marine stayed out of the range of the medieval searchlights and took a quick walk around the perimeter. It wasn’t impenetrable but getting in would prove difficult. And, once in, there would be more guards. Nathaniel had noticed at least five groups of three, walking a beat inside the perimeter. All in all, the place looked well run and well organized. Nathaniel was mightily impressed.
He decided that the best way to get in was simply to go to the main gate and knock.
But he would do that in the morning. People were always more receptive during the hours of daylight. With that in mind he retreated back a block or so, found a hedge that butted up against a garden shed and he pushed his way under cover between the two and, using his hands as a pillow, he went to sleep.
The next morning Nathaniel rose, crept out from his cover. Then he hid his shotgun and ammunition behind the shed and set off to do another quick recce of the area.
The main gate was already open and a convoy of bicycles were leaving the campus. There must have been thirty or so, both men and women, and each bike had a trailer behind it. Accompanying the bike cavalcade were six horseman. It seemed that everyone was armed. Sidearms for the bicycle riders and rifles or shotguns for the horse guards.
It was obvious to Nathaniel that the convoy was on its way to collect something. More than likely supplies from one of the student controlled superstores in the vicinity. One again, the marine was impressed by the organization and discipline of the students.
He waited until the bikes had all gone and then he approached the gates. He walked slowly and made sure that his hands were visible. It was evident that he carried no weapons.
‘Hi,’ he greeted the three heavily armed guards. ‘I’m looking for my niece. Small girl. Lost her yesterday. Wondering if you can help?’
The guards gave him the once over and then one stepped forward. ‘You can’t come in here, raggedy man,’ he said. ‘Only humans allowed, no scarecrows.’
The other two laughed.
Nathaniel grinned as well. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘Good one. Lost my clothes when I lost my niece. Had to make do.’
‘Turn around,’ commanded the one guard.
Nathaniel did a slow 360 degree turn.
‘Come on in,’ said the guard. He opened the gate and ushered Nathaniel in. On the other side of the gate were three more armed guards.
‘Jimmy,’ said the original guard. ‘Raggedy man is looking for his niece. Lost her yesterday. Wants to know if she’s here. Take him to the administration block, see who’s just come in.’
Jimmy nodded. ‘Follow me, raggedy man.’
Nathaniel walked behind the young man. Jimmy didn’t volunteer any conversation which was fine by the marine who didn’t feel like talking at any rate. The campus looked almost like a standard university campus should. Groups of young adults sitting on benches, walking, talking. The only difference is that some were armed. Also, there was a greater proportion of younger people than would be usual. Some as young as seven or eight. Nathaniel didn’t notice many over late twenties, although there were one or two. People stared as he walked by but not for long. They meandered along a concrete pathway until they got to a rectangular white building. Three stories high, lots of glass and a large double door entrance.
They went inside and Jimmy led Nathaniel to a large desk in the reception area.
‘Hello, Debbie,’ he greeted the young lady behind the desk.
‘Jimmy,’ she nodded.
‘Looking for an import. Would have come in last night or yesterday late afternoon. Raggedy man here has allegedly lost his niece. Young, around …’
He turned to Nathaniel.
‘Seven years old,’ said the marine. ‘Red-brown hair. Goes by Milly. Got a fur cape. Real smart.’
Debbie flicked through some cards. ‘Here we go. Outside patrol found her wandering by herself. She got picked up by a bunch of Overlords. She escaped and ran for it. Claims her uncle was shot and killed.’ Debbie looked at Nathaniel, raised an eyebrow.
The marine smiled. ‘No, obviously not. They hit me on the head, knocked me down. She just got confused. When I came to, she was gone, so was my horse, my kit, my clothes and my axe. Had to dress myself in whatever rags I could find.’
Debbie glanced at the cards again. ‘She’s got your axe,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Your axe. When the patrol found her she was carrying a huge axe. Wouldn’t put it down. The Chief Squire has it now. It’s on the wall in his office.’
‘Cool,’ said Nathaniel as a wave of relief washed over him. ‘If I could just pickup Milly and my axe then I’ll be on my way. Thanks for all, I really appreciate it.’
Debbie shook her head. ‘Sorry, raggedy man. That’s not how things work here at the campus. We have rules. Structures and strictures. We’ll need you to go downstairs to the holding rooms. Then I’ll send a message up to the chief squire. We wait and see what he has to say then I, or someone else, will get hold of you in due time. Meanwhile, rest assured, Milly will be well taken care of. Jimmy, show raggedy man the way.’
The marine thought of cold cocking Jimmy, taking his rifle and demanding to see Milly but it was merely a fleeting though, replaced quickly by sanity and patience. After all, he reckoned to himself, a bit more thought before action and he might prevent a few more unnecessary deaths, all of them his own!
‘Right, Jimmy,’ he said. ‘Show me the way.’
He followed the young man down a corridor and then down
a flight of steps into the basement.
Jimmy unlocked the basement door and opened it. It was obvious that the basement had, at one stage, been used to store the files and supplies for the administration block. White concrete walls, unpainted floor, high barred windows that let in a pale, dust diminished light. Scattered around the room was a selection of sofas and wingback chairs. Some blankets and even a few pillows.
There were three people in the room, two men and a woman, standing and talking in hushed tones. They turned to stare at Nathaniel.
‘See you later, raggedy man,’ said Jimmy as he closed the door behind the marine.
The group stared at Nathaniel.
The marine stared back. Not aggressively, merely taking stock.
A lion, dressed in rags, locked in a basement in a university.
Eventually one of the men stepped forward and held out his hand.
‘Hi. My name is Richmond. Richmond Baker. I am…well…I was a professor at this university. Comparative African Studies. You are?’
Nathaniel held out his hand and shook. The professor’s hand was limp. Moist. Unpleasant.
‘Master sergeant Nathaniel Hogan. United States Marine Corps.’
‘You mean, ex-marine, don’t you?’
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘No, sir. Once a marine, always a marine.’
‘Fine,’ said Richmond. ‘This here is Donald and Katie.’
The woman stepped forward and shook the marine’s hand. Her grip was firm and dry. Her gaze direct. She was probably in her late forties. Flecks of gray in her hair. No makeup. Solid build but still very feminine. Nathaniel liked her immediately.
The third person, Donald, shuffled forward and held his left hand out. Nathaniel noticed that his right hand was curled into a ball and he held it in front of his chest.
The marine shook using his left hand. Donald mumbled something and then giggled. He held on to Nathaniel’s hand for a while before Katie spoke.
‘That’s fine. Donald. You can let go now. Well done.’
Donald nodded and smiled. ‘Donald do good,’ he said. He ran his left hand through his hair a few times, pushing back hard. ‘Donald does good.’ Then he shuffled off and sat down on one of the sofas, hands between his knees. Smiling.
‘Donald is special,’ said Katie.
‘Don’t you mean, different,’ countered Nathaniel.
‘Technically it means the same thing. He is unusual. Uncommon. One of the patrols found him wondering around on the outside. He was brought in for processing.’
‘Processing?’ Questioned Nathaniel.
‘Yes, you know. Tests. IQ, medicals, psychological.’
‘Look, don’t get me wrong,’ said Nathaniel. ‘But if high IQ and psych tests are the way to advancement here then Donald is in for a cold ride.’
Katie shook her head. ‘Oh no, you see, Donald is a savant. An autistic savant. He can’t drive or wire a plug, not that any of that matters any more, but watch this. Donald.’
Donald looked up at Katie.
‘What is 377 multiplied by 795?’
‘Two hundred and ninety nine thousand seven hundred and fifteen.’
Nathaniel shrugged. ‘So. For all I know he’s a hundred thousand out.’
Katie shook her head. ‘We’ve been testing him all morning and then working the results out ourselves. He is always correct.’
‘How does he do it?’
‘He doesn’t seem to actually calculate,’ said Katie. ‘From what I can gather, he sees numbers as colors and sounds and, somehow, blends them together to get the result.’
‘Four hundred and seventy two,’ said Donald.
‘What’s that, Donald?’ Asked Katie.
Donald pointed at Katie’s blouse. ‘The number of stitches in your shirt. Four hundred and seventy two. Also, one thousand and nine.’
‘What’s that, sweetie?’
‘Books. Books that I remember. I read one thousand and nine books and I remember them all.’
‘You see,’ said Katie to Nathaniel. ‘He’s literally a human long-term data storage facility. Regardless of IQ or other talents, the senior squire will find a use for him.’
‘What about you and Richmond?’
‘Well, Richy and I were upsetting the status quo.’
Richmond snorted. ‘That’s a polite way of saying that we pissed off the senior squire.’
‘How?’ Asked Nathaniel.
‘We disagreed with him,’ said Richmond. ‘Told him that he was a goddamn Nazi and he and his elitist ideas should rot in hell.’
‘Seems to me that he’s not doing that bad of a job,’ countered the marine.
‘Nathaniel,’ said Katie. ‘Have you ever heard of eugenics?’
The marine shrugged. ‘Sort of. Something about selective breeding? Preventing inbreeding. Promotion of superior traits.’
Katie nodded. ‘Strictly speaking, that would be referred to as pseudo-eugenics. Pure eugenics goes many steps further. It goes beyond selective breeding to encompass actual extermination of people considered feeble minded, idle, insane, or simply unworthy.
The movement saw its zenith in the autumn of 1939 when Hitler approved the Aktion T-4 program. This authorized doctors and officials to carry out euthanasia of those the state deemed unworthy of life. Volunteer physicians coordinated the program from its headquarters in a villa in Berlin located at number 4 Tiergarten Street, hence the name T-4. Physicians at hospitals and psychiatric institutions throughout Germany identified and recommended candidates for euthanasia. At first, in accordance with the T-4 program, the physicians murdered 5000 congenitally deformed children.’
‘5012,’ interrupted Donald.
Katie smiled. ‘Correct, Donald, 5012. Anyway, the children were starved to death at six special asylums that had been remodelled to accommodate the killings. Then, the T-4 program expanded to include adults, who were taken to killing asylums as well and starved. By August of 1941, almost 70,000 people had been killed under T-4.’
‘Granted,’ said Nathaniel. ‘That was a terrible tragedy and one of the reasons that we fought a long and costly war against the Nazis. But I see no death camps or murder asylums here.’
Katie shook her head. ‘Sergeant Hogan, what do you think would happen if a crippled child or so called “Feeble-Minded” person was denied any help and simply sent out into the world beyond this campus?’
Nathaniel didn’t have to think. He had been out there for the last few months and he knew. ‘They would die,’ he said. ‘They would starve to death within weeks.’
‘So you see, sergeant,’ said Katie. ‘The senior squire does not need to build special asylums to starve the unworthy. The entire world has become his extermination camp. All that he has to do is turn them out and wait for them to die.’
‘Bloody Nazi,’ said Richmond with feeling.
Before any more could be said the door opened and two armed men strode in. ‘Come on,’ said the one. ‘Professor Richmond, Doctor Katharine, Donald. It’s time to see the senior squire.’
Once again Nathaniel contemplated simply taking the weapons of the two students and smacking them into unconsciousness but he decided against it. After all, no harm had come to him and the campus was a large place filled with a great many armed people.
The two men closed and locked the door after Richmond, Katie and Donald had left.
Nathaniel lay down on one of the sofas and closed his eyes.
An hour or so later, the door was opened and someone slid a tray in and then closed the door again. Nathaniel took a look. A bowl of stew, mainly tinned vegetables. A large jug of water. A plastic spoon. He ate and drank and then lay down again, sticking to the maxim of sleep when you can.
Through the small windows he could see the night approach. No one came with any more food but he still had sufficient water. There were no toilet facilities so he hoped that he wouldn’t be held for too much longer. He decided that, come morning, he would give them a couple of hours and then si
mply smash the door down and make a plan from there.
The next morning, shortly after sunrise, the door opened and Jimmy walked in.
‘Morning, raggedy man,’ he greeted.
‘Jimmy,’ said Nathaniel.
‘Come on. Follow me,’ continued Jimmy. ‘You got an appointment with the senior squire.’
Nathaniel followed the student up the stairs and out into the campus. Despite the early hour everybody seemed to be up and approaching the day with a purpose. Some carrying boxes of supplies, others dragging trolleys with water drums on, still others walking in groups with gardening utensils such as shovels and forks.
They continued walking until they came across a small man made lake. Situated on the one side, attached to a larger building, was a circular structure that looked a little like a bowl or teacup. Small base reaching up five stories to a flared out upper floor. Floor to ceiling windows looked out over the lake.
They went through the front entrance and the marine followed Jimmy up the stairs to the top floor. There were another two armed guards at the top of the stairwell. They greeted Jimmy and opened the doors for him. The double doors led into a reception area. A desk, some easy chairs. A young man sat behind the desk.
‘Morning, Jimmy,’ he greeted.
Jimmy nodded. ‘Morning, Baxter. I brought the raggedy man to see the boss.’
‘Thank you, Jimmy. Leave him and wait outside. We’ll call when we need you.’
Jimmy gave a half salute and left.
Baxter took a card from a pile in front of him, clicked his ballpoint open and made a note on the top of the card. ‘Please,’ he said to Nathaniel. ‘Sit down.’
Nathaniel sat down on a chair opposite Baxter’s desk.
‘So,’ continued Baxter. ‘Name?’
‘Nathaniel Hogan. Master sergeant United States Marine Corps.’
Baxter wrote. ‘Age?’
‘Twenty eight.’
‘Height and weight?’
‘Six foot four or five, not sure. As for weight, well, who the hell weighs themselves in the current world order?’