The Tetra War_Fractured Peace

by Michael Ryan

  “I think he means the thing’s afraid of fire,” Callie said.

  “We could make little firebombs,” someone suggested. “But we’d have to carry hot coals with us whenever we went out.”

  “Let’s do it,” I said.

  “We need to kill one of those big moose things,” a corporal suggested. “They’ve got a lot of meat, plus maybe we can make weapons from the antlers.”

  Another soldier suggested we start a farm. “We should be trying to grow veggies.”

  “Next you’ll be suggesting we build a city and start our own society,” a corporal quipped.

  “Yeah, I’m not staying on this planet that long,” said another.

  “I’m going to live here forever and become the king of a new civilization,” a space marine sergeant said, spreading out his muscular arms. I wasn’t completely sure that he was kidding.

  One thing had always been true during my military career: boots had strong opinions, regardless of the topic. Our little group had self-proclaimed experts on everything from husbandry to farming, leather-making, grains, water collecting, structure building, and alcohol distillation. One corporal even suggested that we find something cotton-like and start making clothes.

  Since we were mainly naked, which was fine in warm weather but not so ideal if it got cold, figuring out a way to make clothing was an obvious priority. But I didn’t think growing cotton we didn’t have was the answer.

  I decided that our priority, after defending ourselves from the catrilla, was to bring down a moose.

  We set an ambush, and that was where we suffered our next casualties.

  The moose-like creatures used a game trail to move from the forest region to the swamplands. We discovered that the marshes had salt deposits, and the large herbivores frequented them. I left Callie in charge of the compound, and a couple of guards in our crow’s nests. Abrel and Mallsin were now moving about and close to being fully recovered, but I denied Abrel’s request to join us.

  We were in one sense still Gurt infantrymen. But the truth was that I’d become the de facto leader only by tacit consent. If someone defied me or challenged a decision I made, I had no real authority other than the fact everyone deferred to me, including both the lieutenants.

  Pow seemed at home in the forest, so I allowed him to give us guidance for our ambush. He did this with hand motions and facial expressions. Sometimes I got the impression he could understand what we were saying, but in the end it was apparent that he’d figured out that a group of men looking at piles of moose scat and carrying sharp pikes were hunters.

  “I think Pow is saying something about the smell, sir,” a corporal said to me.

  “Drop the ‘sir.’ It’s just Avery,” I said. “You think he’s saying we smell?”

  “Yes, we’ve got to set up on a portion of the trail that has a crosswind,” he said.

  “Okay, lead the way.”

  Pow and the corporal did so. The game trail took a few turns, but eventually Pow raised his hand in a fist. He pointed to a bush and then to a tree. Finally, he took one of the pikes and squatted behind a fallen log.

  I surveyed the area. Fresh tracks and scat evidenced that the moose used the trail frequently. The breeze came across the path perpendicularly, so our scent wouldn’t betray our hiding place. I ordered two of our men farther downwind to protect our container of coals – we’d used part of a helmet as a bowl to carry our fire starter. They were also carrying several dried gourds filled with fine dust from the leaves that Pow had shown us how to use as makeshift incendiary material.

  With our catrilla protectors in place, and with the hope they wouldn’t be needed, the rest of us hid and waited.

  It’s an evolutionary theory that women, who traditionally were the gatherers, liked to talk more than men. They’d chat away the day while picking berries, their voices alerting anything nearby of their presence. Men, it’s theorized, were perfectly happy remaining silent for long periods of time. While waiting in an ambush, even a short sentence spoken out loud could ruin hours of patient anticipation.

  We had a mixture of men and women in our party, and it was hard to tell if evolution had run its course or not.

  The males were just as chatty as the females, and I had to remind them several times that if they wanted to eat moose steak, they needed to be quiet.

  Eventually, the herd appeared.

  We planned to allow the bulk of the group to pass, and then attack the smallest of the last three or four. We wanted a decent chance of bringing one down without being trampled by the rest. I wasn’t entirely confident that the group would just run away – some herd animals will attack predators, especially if their young are threatened. It was all just theory until we experimented.

  The lead animal appeared to be the alpha. He was easily twice the size of the average doe and had an antler spread over two meters wide. As it neared, the beast stopped on the trail and raised its head. Cavernous nostrils sniffed the air. The bull looked around but apparently didn’t detect us, as he soon resumed his march. The herd passed without stopping again. The middle members were all does, and young males brought up the rear.

  As the last few walked between us, Pow leaped over the log he’d been using for cover and impaled one of the animals between the front shoulders. He moved faster than I’d imagined possible and drove the dull end of the pike into the ground. The beast bolted, but in doing so, it ran the pike deeper into its lungs. Pow climbed onto the dying animal’s back and opened up its throat with a swift movement from a razor-sharp metal shard he used as a knife.

  I watched, slightly stunned, and a whole lot surprised. I’d taken him for a computer nerd, not a mighty hunter.

  He smiled at me and nodded his head.

  I tried to give him a high five, but he seemed perplexed about my intention and instead handed me his blade. The makeshift knife was short, which was how he’d been able to conceal it easily. I handed it back to him and gave him the thumbs-up sign.

  I assumed that was universal.

  “Avery, are you sure that’s wise?” one of the men asked.

  “He could have easily slit our throats already if he wanted to,” I answered. “We’re alive, so I suggest we consider him an ally.”

  “Fair enough. We’d better get this thing dressed so we can start hoofing the meat back to camp.”

  A bloodcurdling screech alerted us that a catrilla had found us. Perhaps the smell of blood had brought it to our kill, or maybe we were hunting in its territory and it was challenging us for trespassing. Regardless, the beast leapt on one of the corporals and clamped its jaws onto the back of his neck. It shook him like a terrier killing a rat while shredding his body with its rear claws.

  At least the soldier died quickly.

  “Gather around with the pikes!” I called out, and moved away from our kill until my back was pressed against a large tree trunk. It wasn’t worth risking more men in a fight over the downed moose, but if we could kill the predator without taking too many chances, it would be beneficial to rid the area of the beast.

  “Stay close,” I said. “If it runs, we’ll let it go. If it stays, we’ll try to kill it. Where are the men with the fire?”

  The creature growled and paced. Its dark eyes darted from me to the others and then back again. It was clearly sizing us up and unfortunately had decided I was the leader of the pack. After one of the longest moments of my life, the carnivore took the dead soldier in its jaws and ran off into the forest.

  “Where the hell are those idiots with the fire?” I demanded again.

  A few minutes later we found their bodies hanging in a tree, making the official score catrilla three, us zero.

  We ate our fill of gamey moose steak, but the mood in the camp was sour. With three soldiers killed in our hunting expedition, plus the one in our first week, we were down to twenty-four members. I included Pow in my count; he’d assumed a full-fledged position in our new tribe and hadn’t attempted to harm us. If he wanted to
leave on his own, I certainly wasn’t in a position to stand in his way.

  Our group was used to living with military structure and order. That we were free and autonomous didn’t mean much when we couldn’t order a pizza or a beer. The chances that we’d suffer unpleasant deaths became more likely daily, and that stress pushed soldiers into behaviors unbecoming any civilized society.

  By our second month, the group was split between those who had resigned themselves to a primitive hunting-gathering existence, and those who questioned our decision not to leave when we still had enough power in our suits to travel several hundred kilometers.

  “We can’t change the past,” I said to the group of dissenters one evening.

  “But we don’t have to stay here.” A sergeant named Carble Veteners, a purvast with a long and honorable service record, seemed to be the ringleader of the disgruntled.

  “No, Sergeant, you don’t,” I replied. “You can leave now if you want. Take your share of the supplies and go.”

  “It’s not that easy,” he argued. “If we leave, we should go as a group. We need numbers to survive.”

  “Any that wish to leave can leave with you.”

  “You’re not in charge here,” he said.

  “But I am.” Lieutenant Noleerz stood. He hadn’t taken any interest in leadership since our arrival and had deferred all matters to me. On paper, at least, he was still the senior officer though, and technically we were still under his authority.

  “Noleerz, you haven’t done or said anything since we landed here,” Carble said. “What gives you the idea that anyone will listen to you now?”

  “I’ve put Avery in charge of the daily operations, but I’m still ranking man,” he answered. “If you’d like to continue your insubordination, I’ll have you tied up. If you resist, I’ll kill you myself.”

  “I…” Carble sputtered, and then turned and walked away.

  “Avery, we need to talk,” Noleerz said.

  “Sir.”

  “Tomorrow morning. Sunrise, at the fire.”

  I didn’t know how to take his cryptic scheduling, but I agreed to meet him at sunrise. As stars began to appear, the temperature dropped to chilly. Summer was becoming fall, and the realization that our situation would become bleak was dawning on us. To leave the encampment now would undoubtedly be suicidal, but staying wasn’t going to ensure a pleasant existence either. I sat with Callie, Abrel, and Mallsin around a small fire for warmth and company.

  While we hadn’t perfected making leather, we had managed to clean and dry moose fur, which we used for blankets, coats, and foot coverings that hardly deserved to be called sandals. They did keep our feet from blistering, which was sufficient.

  “The children are getting crazy,” Mallsin said.

  “It’s to be expected.” I threw another log onto the fire and pulled the fur tighter around myself and Callie.

  “We need rules,” Abrel announced. He tended towards practicality.

  “We have rules,” I said. “We’re still infantry soldiers in the Gurt Armed Forces.”

  “I think you need to let that fiction die,” he said. “We’re unlikely ever to see Purvas or Earth again.”

  “But…” I let his words sink in. Abrel wasn’t one for exaggeration and melodrama. “But they are…”

  “Gurts will return to Talamz,” he said. “I’m sure of that. But they’ll be invaders, and there will be war. Even if they come to terms of peace, or if the Gurts conquer the Chemeckos, where will that leave us? You think someone’s going to search millions of square kilometers for a long-forgotten heli-jet?”

  “The data-box,” I said.

  “No, he’s right,” Mallsin said. “The data-box is important, but not that important. After a year or so, its power supply will be dead. At that point, finding it out here, even if they’re searching for it? Not likely. It’s easier to report the vessel destroyed in battle and file the crew as KIA.”

  “So, then…” I poked the fire and watched red ashes swirl into the air. “I’m not sure how we should proceed. Are you suggesting we set up a little government and declare our camp a city?”

  “It would make sense to do that,” Abrel said, “if we could produce children. There are worse futures I can imagine, and there’d be a certain charm to it. Us against nature, building a new tribe, the noble warriors who’ve fashioned plowshares from their swords. But reality sets in when you think about it for a minute. Without the ability to reproduce, what’s the point? Rather than establishing meaningless structure, I suggest we try to make a comfortable life here.”

  “And that’s that?” Callie said. “We can’t have children, so life is pointless?” She began weeping, and visions of our lost family flashed through my mind.

  “I want to do something to get back at the fuckers who killed my family,” I finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that accompanied Callie’s tears.

  “You shouldn’t have had us de-suit,” Mallsin said, “if you believe that would have been better.”

  “Maybe I made a mistake.” I poked the fire again. “I miss the simple things. Beer. A movie. Reading a book.”

  “I don’t think you made the wrong decision, Avery,” Abrel said after a moment of reflection. “If we’d gone out searching in our armor, likely we’d have run out of power, and we would have had to try to set up a camp without any tools. Look around. All this has kept us alive.”

  “He’s right,” Mallsin added. “If we have any chance of surviving, this is the best way.”

  “Time will tell,” I said.

  Later that night, Callie and I made love slowly, as if we were sad and happy at the same moment.

  “Do you think we’ll ever sleep on sheets again?” she asked when we’d finished.

  “Yes,” I answered. “The universe has many forms of random number generators running. I don’t believe we’ll be here forever.”

  The next morning at sunrise, I met Lieutenant Noleerz.

  He threw some kindling onto the coals and replenished the fire. “I always loved camping when I was a kid.”

  “I never went camping,” I said. “But I did have many talks with my grandfather sitting around the fireplace in his country cabin.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “Everything. Girls. Politics. Religion. The war.”

  “I never knew my grandparents,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I executed Sergeant Veteners last night,” he said.

  “You what?” I was surprised and wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. “You did what, sir?”

  “He was poisonous, Avery. You have to stamp out dissension the moment it sprouts, or you’ll lose more than just a single life.”

  “Sir–”

  “Stop with the formalities, Avery. You know it was the right decision, but now we need to sell it to the rest of the troops.”

  “I’m not sure–”

  “Yes, you are. You’re as sure as I am. You just need a moment for it to catch up to you. The man was going to do something stupid and cause further injury or death. So I dealt with it, which is my job. What needs to happen next is up to you. The men respect you. I’ll support you, but you have to assume a position of power and authority. Get Abrel, Mallsin, and Callie on board, and you’re going to be unstoppable as chieftain, or governor, or whatever you want to call yourself. But you must lead; it’s the only chance any of these boots have.”

  “What about you? You’re ranking–”

  He interrupted me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Rank is meaningless here, Avery. The strong will survive; the weak will perish. I’ll support your bid for leader of the group, and I’ll serve in whatever capacity you’d like. If you don’t do this and do it quickly, the group will corrode into factions, and everyone will die.”

  “Jesus,” I said.

  The lieutenant gave me a wry smile. “You know, he refused to take a sword…and his disciples were slaughtered like lambs.”

&nbs
p; I sat and watched the fire grow as the kindling transferred its heat to the logs. My grandfather used to say that indecision was worse than weakness. At least a bad decision could be rectified. “Okay,” I said at last. “We’ll call a meeting.”

  When Callie woke, I told her what had happened. We included Abrel and Mallsin in our plans, and then called everyone in camp to an assembly.

  As much as I hated speeches, I knew under the circumstances that one was required.

  “Troops, I have several announcements to make,” I said. “I’ll take questions after I’m done.”

  Suspicion clouded the faces of several troopers. One of them demanded to know where Sergeant Veteners was.

  “Sergeant Veteners is dead,” I answered firmly. “He was growing into a cancer, and his–”

  “I’ll kill you!” the corporal screamed, and rushed me with a pike, intending to skewer me. But his eyes were fixed on me, and he failed to notice Abrel swing a plate of armor at his head. The former shin-piece was sufficient to stop his run, but he still managed to thrust the pike at me.

  Pow, who I hadn’t noticed standing to my left, blocked the sharp pole. He finished his defensive move with a lightning-fast slice with his blade that opened the corporal’s throat and nearly decapitated him. The corporal dropped like a bag of rocks in front of the stunned troops. His head twisted slightly as he died, and he cursed me before a crimson stream gurgled from his mouth and he stiffened and lay still.

  Two soldiers moved towards Pow, who had lowered the knife. “Leave him,” I ordered. “He was protecting me.”

  Pow cleaned his blade on the grass and returned to my side. I nodded at him, and he smiled.

  The troops began arguing and talking.

  Several got worked into a frenzy.

  “Everyone calm down,” Lieutenant Noleerz ordered. “I killed Veteners last night because he was a toxin to this group. The evidence lies before you. This man was willing to attack and kill a superior without cause and without knowing the facts. I killed the sergeant using my authority as the superior officer of this unit. I now cede that authority to Avery. I will fully support his position as leader. I suggest you all sit down and listen. Now.”