by Unknown
Chapter 11
Contact
The early morning light was beginning to filter into the plane through the Plexiglas of the blisters and the small windows at the side of the compartments. Hadaie was the one who heard them first. Small rustling noises and occasional whispers were coming from outside. He got up from his seat and eased his way to the small window in the navigation compartment. At first there was nothing to see. Then the outlines of nearly naked men were made out in the bushes and grasses on the edge of the beach, not 40 feet away. They wore what looked like animal skin coverings from mid chest down to their knees and were carrying a tube like stick in their hands. Their faces were painted in reds and greens and their hair was slicked back to a ponytail, which went to the middle of their backs. They moved slowly, making hardly a stir.
Hadaie reached down and shook Ramey in his sleeping bag. “We have company,” he said.
Ramey carefully got out of his bag and moved to the same window. After a minute he too could discern the men encircling the area. He looked at Hadaie. “I didn’t know there were natives about,” he said very quietly. “I wonder who they work for?”
“It would appear since they aren’t armed, they may be simply natives that are curious as to what we are,” Hadaie said. “Perhaps I should go out there.”
Ramey took his arm. “Are you sure?”
“They don’t appear to have anything that would hurt me,” Hadaie said. “I will try and communicate with them and find out who they are.”
Jim Ramey nodded in agreement, and Hadaie began working through the men in sleeping bags toward the blister. The others began to stir and had questioning looks.
“We have visitors,” Ramey said. In a few seconds both the Major and the Colonel were up and brandishing weapons. The others simply got up to be ready for something. Ramey motioned for them to stay back. “Hadaie’s going to check it out,” he said.
“Is that wise?” the Major asked.
“Trust me. It’s the best way,” he said grinning. The two officers stood back but kept their guns in their hands.
Hadaie got to the blister and pulled it open. The sudden noise startled some of the men outside. As Hadaie stuck his head and body up from inside the plane there was the sound of wisps of air and light taps like rain falling.
Small darts began falling at Hadaie’s feet as his arms began rapidly flailing the air around his face. Hadaie leaned back into the plane. His hair had turned red with the lightning fast use of his arms. Hadaie acted unconcerned. “I recommend you remain inside until I talk to them,” he said. Then he placed the boarding ladder over the side and climbed down to the ground. His hair continued to glow. The natives moved back, totally frightened at a man who could still come at them after their darting attack. They began to talk amongst themselves. Once they did, the translator kicked in and Hadaie began to speak to them in their own language.
“Do not shoot at us any more, we come in peace,” he said. The men continued to back away as Hadaie began pulling out a couple of darts still sticking to his uniform. Just in front, a young native began to swing what looked like a bolo. Then he slung it toward Hadaie who nimbly caught it in his hand and slung it into the trees. From another quarter a stone knife flashed and Hadaie easily caught it with his other hand. He looked down, slightly annoyed, and simply dropped it to the ground. His hair seemed to glow even brighter. The natives gasped and some began to fall on their knees and bow their faces with their arms outstretched. The others saw this and did the same. They began chanting.
Hadaie stopped and looked back at the plane. The puzzled look started the men chuckling. It was obvious these natives had just elected him their god. The Hadaie turned around and said, “Do not be afraid. I am not angry with you. Come and let me see you all,” he said. Slowly the natives emerged from the surrounding woods. Within a minute there were nearly fifty there. All were dressed the same with loincloths around their chests and waists and leather thongs holding small bags from around their necks. They all were carrying the same weapons. “You are brave to come today to this place. Where do you live?”
One of the men stepped forward. He had a shell headband on, and his dress was more refined. “We live in the forest two hour’s walk from here. We fish this river and one of my people saw the great winged chariot come from the sky,” the man said as he pointed to the plane.
Hadaie immediately noticed the man used the term for wing and he stored the idea away. “You must be the chief of these people,” he said.
The chief stood taller. “I am Mogar, Chief of the Gandas. We ask your forgiveness for attacking you. You look so much like the soldiers, we were afraid you had killed the god,” he said, again motioning to the plane.
“We come within this chariot to seek you out and do battle with the soldiers who enter here,” Hadaie said.
With that several men began to smile and relax. For a few moments the talking between them increased, then they grew quiet and gathered closer.
“We have fought the soldiers for many years,” the Chief said. “At first, our people were as many as the leaves on the trees. Now we are fewer, but willing to fight,” he said. The rest of the men nodded forcefully. It was clear these men hated Brana and his soldiers.
Hadaie heard a muffled cough from inside the plane. “My friends and I have come from far away to do this battle. I want you to meet these men,” he said. Hadaie turned and motioned for the others to come out.
One by one the others climbed down from the aircraft and gathered with Hadaie. The Major and Colonel drew some cautioned stares as they came from the aircraft, but had carefully placed their weapons out of sight before coming out. It was then explained that the two “soldiers” were from far away and not a part of Brana’s group. After a few introductions, the men began to sit and talk. The Nacerian and Alliance men sitting on logs and stumps while the others sat on their haunches with their feet on the ground. Hadaie explained who they were and that they were seeking out other people, who had done evil things. Then he asked the Chief how they came to be there. The group got quiet and listened as the Chief told the tribe’s story.
The Chief lifted his head and began almost chanting as he started what Mike thought was a recited history of his people. As the Chief talked, the others closed their eyes as if living it as well.
For the tribe, the struggle with the soldiers had begun over twenty years ago when men with strange weapons came into their woods and began cutting the trees. At first, there was little contact between these men and the Gandas, since the Gandas are a shy people, desiring nothing but to fish, hunt and live in peace, enjoying the freedoms of the forest. But soon the hunters would fail to return from the hunts. The fishermen failed to return from their prime fishing grounds. Groups of men would be sent out to find them and would either come back alone or not come back at all. It was known as the time of the great sorrows and many widows and orphans were left to fend for themselves once the men were gone.
Then one day, word came from a neighboring tribe that some of their men were seen in the section of woods occupied by the soldiers. A party was gathered to go and see for themselves if the story was true. The party was made up of some of the bravest of their tribe and set off in high hopes of finding and possibly rescuing their men. After three days and nights of trekking through the woods they came upon a giant clearing where buildings were being built and the trees stripped away to make room for strange machines. It was there, under the watchful eyes of the soldiers that the men saw their tribesmen. They were chained together in small groups with metal chains and were being forced to do hard work, felling the trees and clearing the land on one side, while breaking up rocks and constructing buildings on the other. Even as they watched, a guard began to beat one of the men senseless with a leather whip. He continued until the man lay motionless on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
The horror of the sight caused some of the men to become angry and urge the others to prepare an attack. But even as they d
id so, the group was set upon by a large group of armed soldiers, cutting the brave tribesmen down with what looked like beams of sunlight. As the light would sweep past, arms and legs would fall limply to the ground, leaving the tribesmen to wallow in agony until a soldier would deliver a final blow. The tribesmen were brave and fought with all the strength they had. More than one soldier came within reach of the tribesmen and quickly found the true strength of the warriors, gasping in horror as the tribesman’s strong hands and arms would clasp them around the neck or twist their head until it snapped.
But it was inevitable. One by one, the tribesmen had been taken down by the light weapons until few were standing and none were without injury. Only one escaped. During the final fighting he had been struck in the head by one of the soldiers and lay unconscious on the field. As the night overtook them, he had awakened to find himself in a large mass of his kinsmen lying dead, or near death, at the edge of the clearing. He struggled free of the men and crawled into the woods to hide. While there, he had watched the soldiers return and douse the tribesmen with a strange liquid. After saturating them with a number of vessels, the men stood back as one threw a torch into the mass of tribesmen. The ensuing explosion of flame and heat totally engulfed his friends and kinsmen. From over 100 meters distance, he could feel the flames’ heat on his face, evaporating the tears that streamed from his eyes. He listened as the screams of the few still alive became hushed and finally became quiet. As the flames died down, the survivor had made his way through the woods back to his home. The former Chief, Kansa, had found the man on the side of the river near dead. He had carried the man back to the village and helped nurse him back to health. It had been he that told them of the fate of the party and the horrors that they had endured.
Chief Kansa had decided to lead his people deeper into the woods. They moved away from their known hunting grounds and had to forage for new ones. As the soldiers had moved down the river, they had been forced away from the water and its abundance of fish. Starvation began to claim some of the people, as the men were no longer able to find the kinds of food they were used to. Despite their moves, the soldiers would occasionally kidnap men and take them away. The once proud tribe was being decimated.
As the tribe grew more and more restless, there had been murmuring for a new chief. Mogar had been the one to urge the tribesmen to take a stand and fight for their lands and their way of life. He had preached that for the tribe to be whole again, it must defend itself against the oppression of the soldiers. Then one day Chief Kansa had gone hunting and never returned. After a search, the tribesmen had determined that the soldiers must have taken him and they elected Mogar as their new chief.
Mogar first had the tribe move back toward their old home and into the fertile hunting grounds they had known so well. Once there, he had established a large group of men to act as scouts for the village. Using their hunting skills, they would move to an area and wait. If a soldier entered the area, the hunter would either kill him, or if a group, warn the tribe and bring back more men. The areas were close together so that if a tribesman was taken, another would be able to assist or warn the others. All men and women were armed with their most lethal weapon, the blowgun. Summoning the tribal oracle, they were able to make quick and deadly poisons to dip their darts in. Each carried a pouch with at least 20 darts safely stored for ready use. When not being used for the soldiers, these same men could dart food that happened nearby during the day, and bring it back with them in the evening. Each morning, the men would make sure they had all the darts for their pouches and new ones as needed before stepping into the woods to relieve the night watch. Women carried the same darts but remained close to home and ready to run into the woods to join the men when needed. Only the very old stayed behind to care for the young.
The new plans paid off early. Two soldiers were killed just two days after the tribe returned, as they strolled through the woods looking for food for themselves. Each time, the tribesmen would drag the bodies to what he called the doors to the underworld and cast them inside so no one would know where or how they had died. The next week, five men in a patrol boat were struck when they came ashore for lunch. Within a month, the tribe was healthy again and feeding itself without any loss of life. That was when the first patrols of soldiers began to penetrate the woods looking for their assailants. At first, the tribesmen had been able to see the soldiers coming and encircle them using the stealth they had learned as hunters. Then the fusillade of darts would quickly take their toll. Despite this successful strategy, some of the tribesmen were lost, this time from rifles and bullets. Again the tribe had dwindled from the losses, but after a while, the soldiers stopped coming into the woods. Occasionally small units would venture in, but rarely would they return. Mogar said they had killed over a thousand of them over the past ten years. The tribesmen had seen the winged chariot fly over the previous afternoon and had trekked to find it. If it had carried soldiers, they were ready to drive them away again. Instead they found a god impervious to their deadly darts and speaking to them of friendship and kindness. Since they weren’t being shot at, the Chief had come forward, more out of curiosity than anything else.
It had taken over an hour for the Chief to give the lesson. Now it was the turn of Mike’s group to talk. The Chief got quiet and waiting patiently as the men looked at each other trying to decide who would talk. It was Jim Ramey who spoke.
“As for most of us, we come from far away, far more than a year’s walk for your brave tribesmen,” he started. “We come from a people who believe the freedom you are fighting for is a gift from our God. We, too, have seen some that have tried to toss us from our homes or take away our rights as people, and our freedoms. But in every case there are those of us who stood up to those of evil and fought for the freedom and liberties we all now share. Like you, we found the ways to defend ourselves and to make others respect our abilities. And like you, we mourned those who died so that we could remain free.”
“Over the years, wars were fought and more men died. But the goals of freedom could not be stopped. One great leader talked about the sacrifices of such men and the dedicated efforts to make freedom work,” Ramey said. “He once spoke to a crowd of people after a large battle.” Then he tilted his head back and thought for a moment. “I am trying to remember the words he said,” Ramey said still thinking. Then he looked back at the men. “Our fathers brought forth a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
“Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this,” he said reciting from memory.
“But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate--we can not consecrate--we can not hallow--this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain--that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
“That short little speech was made long ago. And the people - like your people - have done what he suggested and fought when necessary to make sure freedom lives. And so it lives even today. And what’s more, it continues to grow as more and more people from all over take up its cause. Fo
r under freedom, people flourish. They can live their lives doing the tasks that suit them and not someone else. They can raise their families in a place that believes everyone should be educated and then find the life that’s right for them. And when they have children, the world will offer the same possibilities.”
Then Ramey looked hard at the men around him. “That freedom is what brings us here today. One of those men took the child of this man,” he said pointing toward Mike. “This man that was helping others learn and share the freedom he has known in his life. His son was taken to stop him from sharing that freedom - to make him a slave to the other man’s will. The man that did this is the leader of the soldiers you have fought against for so long. Now he would enslave not only you, but everyone on this world. He is stealing the children of the free so that they will never know freedom. We have come to give that boy back his freedom and hopefully stop this evil one from doing his ways to others. That is why we came, and that is why we ask you to join with us,” he said.
With that, Jim sat back on his stump and remained silent. Throughout the speech, the tribesmen were nodding their heads. Their scowls deepened every time the soldiers or their leader were mentioned. As the speech ended their eyes were burning with hatred for the soldiers and anyone else on that base a few miles away.
Chief Mogar thought a moment, and then motioned for one of the men to come to him. He whispered something in his ear and the man darted silently into the woods with another man. Once they had gone, the Chief rose from his seat and walked toward Ramey. Ramey rose to greet him and the chief spread his hands and placed them on Ramey’s shoulders.