by Simon Hawke
"Where?" cried Jason, looking around wildly.
"Look!" said Orpheus, pointing.
Medea screamed.
A hand was clawing up from beneath the ground about a dozen yards away. Near it, two more hands appeared like crabs scuttling out from beneath the sand, twisted fingers grasping at the air. Arms were sprouting from the ground like impossibly fast growing plants, thrashing around and pushing to pull the bodies free. A head became visible, then another, and another. Dozens of upper torsos were visible, arms pushing against the sand, straining to free legs. They crawled forward, pulling themselves out, dozens of them, to stand unsteadily on their feet like stalks of wheat swaying gently in the wind.
"They are dead men," Orpheus said with horror.
They stood as if in catatonic trance, bedraggled, life-sized marionettes held up by loose strings, rotted, decomposing flesh flapping, bones protruding, eyes encrusted or absent altogether from the vacant sockets, gums retreating from yellowed and blackened teeth, wisps of white-gray hair escaping from beneath corroded helmets. The leather armor was dry and veined with cracks like the surface of some long dry, sunbaked riverbed and the cloaks hung down in tatters from bony shoulders. The rusted noseguards of the helmets shielded nonexistent noses and the earpieces covered holes no longer graced by earlobes. Worms and maggots writhed in places where decayed flesh was exposed and pieces of once living tissue dropped down onto the sand.
Medea could not stop screaming. Her hands were up over her ears, as if to shut out the sound of her own shrieks. She stood frozen to the spot, paralyzed with terror. Hercules dropped the fleece onto the sand and stared at the living dead with disbelief.
"Corpses," said Jason, his voice cracking. "How does one fight corpses? How to kill that which is already dead?"
"If a corpse cannot be killed," said Theseus, drawing his sword, "it can still be dismembered."
"Remember what you said about people who don't panic?" Andre said to Finn. She nodded at Theseus. "There's one. You think maybe he can tell us how it's done? I just went numb all over."
"It's Drakov," Steiger said. "That bastard's brewed himself up a bunch of zombies."
"Cybernetically augmented," Delaney said. "Isn't that what he said? He found the ship, clocked back in time and buried a bunch of his hominoids out here. They died, but the cybernetics kept on working, sending impulses to circuits buried in the decomposing muscles or in the skeletal structure."
"That lunatic has set us up," said Steiger. "The only way out is to do what Theseus said, dismember them or smash their skulls and destroy the implants. Then all we have to figure out is what to do about Kovalos with his archers and his cavalry. Piece of cake. Or we could run out into the water and try swimming back to Iolchos."
"KILL THEM!" Kovalos screamed.
The corpses shambled toward them slowly, dead hands pulling rusted blades from rotted scabbards.
"Remember that emergency we were saving the warp discs for?" said Andre. "I think this is it, guys."
"I think you're right," said Finn. "Creed?"
"I'm not about to be cut up by a remote controlled cadaver," Steiger said.
He glanced over his shoulder as the main body of the Argonauts came leaping over the side of the ship to join the battle while a few remained behind with Argus to push the ship off from the shore and hoist the sail. He looked back toward the crest, where Kovalos stood watching with his soldiers.
"We'd better do something about that group up there or no one's getting out of here," he said.
"Fugue sequence?" said Delaney.
"You know any other way three can take on about fifty?" Steiger said.
"All three of us fugue clocking at once?" said Andre. "The three of us could wind up being one of us if we accidentally synchronize our fugue patterns. That could get real messy."
"Don't take this personally," said Steiger, "but I have no intention of sharing my space with you. We'll use a three/six staggered fugue sequence, zero-three-six initiation with me first, you second and Finn third. Estimate your best coordinates for about fifteen to twenty yards behind our friends up there on the crest and make every arrow count. Got it? Now stage, and fast!"
As the corpses tottered toward them, swords raised, Theseus gave out a yell and charged them. Hercules picked up the golden fleece with one arm and hoisted the hysterical Medea with the other and started sprinting toward the ship as the other Argonauts joined -Theseus and Jason in their charge.
"Staged!" shouted Delaney, left wrist cocked in front of him, right hand on the control studs.
"Staged!" shouted Andre, in a similar position.
Several of the corpse soldiers were getting dangerously close.
"Staged!" shouted Steiger.
One of the corpses was less than three feet from Delaney, but he could spare no time to deal with it. It swung its sword down in a swift arc toward his head.
"TIME! "yelled Steiger.
The sword came down, but it slashed through empty space. All three of them had disappeared.
Meleager ran a corpse through with his sword. It didn't even slow it down. It slashed at him as he pulled his sword free of the soggy flesh and only by falling quickly and rolling aside could he avoid the killing stroke. Jason parried a sword thrust, then quickly brought his blade up and around and severed a rotting arm from its shoulder. The arm, hand still holding the sword, fell to the ground, but the corpse kept coming at him. Jason ran it through. It lurched forward, impaling itself even further on the blade as its one remaining hand, fingers like talons, reached for Jason's throat. He batted the hand away and struck at the corpse's face with all his might. The head flew off and landed in the sand several feet away. As the body collapsed to the ground, the head continued to twitch slowly from side to side, moving with the spastic motion of a windup toy.
Theseus wasted no time in engaging any one of the corpses in single combat. He moved like a whirling dervish, slashing quickly at one and immediately twisting away and slashing at another. Holding his sword with both hands as if it were an axe, he spun through the grisly army like a buzz saw, taking advantage of their slow "reactions" to inflict as much damage as he could to as many of them as he could, aiming always for the extremities and putting all his power behind every stroke, accompanying each one with a grunt of effort, like a butcher laying about him with a maul.
Up on the crest, Kovalos watched the combat, his soldiers staring with horrified fascination at the army of the living dead their captain had raised. They had both feared and respected him before, but they had never dreamed he was a sorcerer and now they regarded their commander with a terrified awe. When the corpses had first started to claw their way free of the earth, not a few of them almost ran in abject panic from the sight, but they were rooted in their place both by the hypnotic aspect of the spectacle and their terror of what their commander might do to them if they showed fear. What chance would there be to flee from a man who could raise the dead?
Kovalos stood before them, watching as the corpses closed with the Argonauts, but when he spotted Hercules sprinting back toward the ship with Medea and the golden fleece, he pointed and shouted to his archers, "There! That one, Hercules! Shoot him down! He must not reach the ship!"
As one of the archers shifted his aim to the massive, running figure, an arrow came whistling between the ranks of cavalry behind him and thudded home into the base of his skull. He toppled forward and fell onto the rocks below. Several of the archers had time to loose their arrows, but they had failed to properly estimate the speed with which Hercules ran, not thinking that a man so large could move so quickly, so they did not lead him well when they had aimed. When their fellow archer fell over the edge, they hesitated and in that time two more arrows passing between the horses behind them claimed two more of their number.
The cavalry soldiers wheeled their horses as soon as they realized there was an enemy behind them, but instead of a force of opposing archers, they were confronted with a sight that baffled them completely. Seve
ral of the horsemen near the center of the formation caught what they thought was a glimpse of a bowman, but in the next instant, he was no longer there. Several others on the right flank caught sight of a woman archer pulling back her bow, but just as they were about to charge her, she seemed to vanish. There was a shout from the left flank of the cavalry as someone spotted yet another archer shooting at them, then confusion when the man who saw him found himself pointing to a spot where no one stood.
The mercenaries of Kovalos found themselves confronted with a phenomenon beyond any understanding. It was the most dangerous maneuver in temporal warfare, dangerous to both the attacked and the attackers-fugue clocking. With the proper skill and a great deal of luck, one man using a fugue clocking sequence could become an army. Yet one mistake could result in utter disaster, trapping the temporal soldier in limbo forever in the dead zone of non-specific time or causing him to clock in at the exact time-space coordinates as those occupied by another mass, either living or inanimate. Several temporal soldiers fugue clocking at the same time, using a hastily programmed fugue sequence, could conceivably materialize in the same place at the same time, resulting in an instant and agonizing death. For temporal soldiers, the options regarding fugue clocking were clearly and rigidly defined. It was a worst case scenario option, a tactic of last resort.
The three/six staggered sequence program with a zero-three-six initiation Steiger had called for was one of the standard drills among temporal adjustment teams. They were frightening, but necessary drills, necessary because in a situation that called for such a desperate maneuver, there could be no time for thought. The programming had to be accomplished quickly, almost by instinct, and whoever called the sequence was immediately and automatically in charge, not to be questioned under any circumstances. Later, if the team concerned survived and the tactic was found to be unnecessary, they could exercise the option of beating him to death.
Three/six: Three seconds in, six seconds out. Three seconds during which to act in real time, six seconds spent in temporal limbo. Zero-three-six initiation: the moment all three team members were "staged," fugue sequence programming locked in, zero-three-six designated the initiation of the sequence for all three of them. On the command, "Time," the zero-designated team member would start the sequence with three seconds in real time, zero initiation gap. The three-designated team member would start the sequence with three seconds in temporal limbo, clocking in to real time the second after the zero-designated team member clocked out of real time for six seconds in limbo. The six-designated team member would begin the fugue with six seconds spent in temporal limbo, clocking in to real time the second after the three-designated team member clocked out, three seconds after the zero-designated team member had clocked out with three seconds left to spend in limbo.
The staggered fugue sequence was designed to eliminate the possibility of any two of them materializing simultaneously in the same location and once it was locked in for a set time corresponding to a given sequence order, it was irreversible for that length of time, completely automatic. It left each team member with three seconds in real time during which to fight, but those three seconds were a slim margin in real time combat situations, where remaining in the same place could easily prove fatal. Constant movement in real time was essential.
As Steiger began the sequence by clocking in approximately sixteen yards behind the soldiers, he aimed his bow quickly and fired, drawing another arrow and nocking it as he ran quickly to his right. He vanished into temporal limbo before taking two steps and Andre clocked in, shot her arrow, drew and nocked while moving and likewise disappeared. Delaney clocked in and followed the same procedure, clocking out as Steiger materialized already running. A quick halt, an arrow flight and the procedure was repeated.
It was an exhausting, taxing strategy, leaving no room for error and almost no time in which to aim, but the result was that the soldiers of Kovalos were confronted with three archers who appeared in lightning sequence out of thin air, shot, killed, and disappeared, only to reappear elsewhere and shoot again. Their first response was one of confusion, then came disbelief, then the realization that they were under attack by what seemed to be a phantom army of bowmen, which led quickly to blind panic. Every three seconds, a soldier fell dead, killed by what seemed to be ghosts shooting very real arrows. After what they had already witnessed on the beach below them, this was too much for the soldiers. They broke and ran, screaming with terror, posing an immediate danger for the three temporal agents.
Andre clocked in, her bow held ready, only to find a fleeing cavalry soldier bearing down upon her. She threw herself to her left and the horse missed her by inches. Delaney clocked in a fraction of a second before a galloping horse would have crossed the same time-space and only his forward momentum saved him from being trampled. The horse caught him a glancing blow and he fell spinning to the ground, vanishing from sight the instant that he fell. Steiger clocked in two inches in front of a running archer, who slammed into him at full speed. Both men fell to the ground, stunned, but only one of them remained there.
The archer was not as badly stunned as Steiger and he started to get back to his feet almost at once, looking all about him to see what he had run into and seeing nothing. Thinking he had been felled by an invisible opponent, he drew his sword and swung it all around him, then promptly tripped and fell as Steiger's prone body materialized between his legs. The archer screamed, dropped his sword and came as close as a man could come to breaking light speed.
Hercules ran hard, heedless of the arrows raining down upon him. He reached the Argo, flung the golden fleece on board one-armed and then unceremoniously hoisted Medea up over his head and tossed her into the waiting arms of Argus. He tossed her a bit too hard and Argus suddenly found himself flat on his back upon the deck, pinned down by an hysterical female. He dislodged her and dragged her to her feet and shook her, but she kept right on screaming. Unable to think of what else to do, Argus gave her a stinging slap across the face. The screams stopped instantly and for a moment her eyes went out of focus, then they went wide with shock and outrage.
"How dare you!" she cried, forgetting everything else in her fury as she hauled off and smashed her right fist into the shipwright's face. Argus staggered backward, momentarily stunned, as Medea cried out with pain and clutched at her right hand, then she remembered where she was and what was happening and started screaming once again.
"If one needs any proof of the capricious nature of the gods," muttered Argus, "one need only look at women." He drew back his fist and slammed it right into her jaw. She fell to the deck like a stone. "Do something with her!" Argus said to Hylas, then ran back to the tiller as the boy started to drag her unconscious body across the deck, out of the way.
Having disposed of Medea and the golden fleece, Hercules ran back to join the battle. The corpse soldiers were not as quick in their movements as were the Argonauts, but they were relentless. The Argonauts ran them through again and again, but still they kept on coming. A number of the corpses were riddled with arrows shot by several of the Argonauts, but they were undeterred and they continued pressing their frightening assault, moving forward slowly in a jerking manner and slashing spasmodically with their swords. Several of the Argonauts had fallen. Even more of the corpses had fallen, but they still kept on, dragging themselves across the sand. Only those that had their skulls split or their heads knocked off lay still, but the Argonauts were steadily being pressed back toward the sea. Hercules didn't even bother to draw his sword. He plunged into the battle, swinging both fists like bludgeons and rallying the Argonauts as heads popped off the necks of corpses with each blow. Belatedly realizing the effectiveness of the technique, the Argonauts aimed for the heads of the dead bodies and the tide of the battle began to turn. The beach around them resembled an explosion in a pathology lab. Argus had succeeded in pushing the ship away from shore and he now shouted to the remaining Argonauts to get on board. A number of them felled their lifeless o
pponents and turned to sprint across the beach and into the water, striking out for the ship.
Steiger felt as if he had slammed into a tree. He shook his head and tried to get his eyes to focus. They focused on Kovalos, crouching over him, and on the business end of a plasma pistol pointed directly at his face. Still groggy, Steiger counted three seconds. When he didn't dematerialize, he realized the fugue program had run its course. He also realized that he was in serious trouble.
"Drop the bows or your partner's had it!" said Kovalos, speaking in English. "And keep your hands away from those bracelets!"
Andre and Finn hesitated, then dropped their bows down on the ground.
"The quivers, too," Kovalos said. "And then the swords."
"Special Operations Group, I take it," Steiger said.
"Just lie very still, friend," said Kovalos. "I've still got your two partners to deliver to Interrogation. I don't really need you. You so much as twitch an eyebrow and you're dead."
"And so are you," said Steiger.
"Like hell," Kovalos said. "If you people had any serious weapons, you would've used them. You got screwed by your own cover. You think your friends can pick up their bows and fit their arrows faster than I can squeeze this trigger?"
"Man's got a point," Delaney said. "Okay, Mister, it's your move. What's the deal?"
"Deal?" said Kovalos. "You have to be kidding. The only deal you people get is staying alive unless you try something stupid. You've got nothing to deal with."
"What makes you so sure?" Delaney said. "I thought your people were pretty anxious about Project Infiltrator and its director."
"The psych teams will get everything they need out of you," Kovalos said.
"I don't doubt that," Delaney said. "Only by then, it'll be too late for the information to do them any good. And it won't get you any points. What's your rank? Lieutenant? Captain? There'd be a nice promotion and a commendation in it for you if you turned up information that could lead your adjustment team to your missing Infiltrator Project."