Chapter 16

“Ouch!” John was sympathetic. “That sounds like a man scheduled to die.”

“That was my reaction, but I couldn’t act on my own. That’s why I hurried here,” was Tempo’s reaction.

John’s mind was already engaged in military planning.

“We should attack them when they sleep. Do you know if they set out guards when they stop to rest?”

“I haven’t seen them at night – not being there – but I haven’t seen anyone on duty when they stop during the day. They only guard their prisoners, to stop them running away, otherwise they take things easy.”

“Ah. How many guards on the prisoners?”

“Two, though these men seem to take turn about, fucking the female prisoners. That takes their attention away from being aware of their surroundings.”

“Any females among the wanderers, or are they all men?”

“All men; I think that’s why they use the female prisoners that way.”

John made up his mind.

“Right. We attack them when they are asleep, and do our best to kill them all quietly. No shouting or running during the attack. We will deal with the guards on the prisoners first, as they will be the ones who are awake; then a simple silent walk into their camp, to slit their throats as they sleep, then vanish. If we don’t get them all before any wake up, then we scarper back into the dark. We can always get them later, in the forest. They won’t have even the rudimentary skills you have, Tempo.”

“Huh? You expect that to work?” Tempo was startled at John’s bloodthirsty plan.

“It does work; I know, Tempo. I was trained to be able to do this. We’ll have to wait until they are all asleep, but then you have to be completely quiet: no standing on dry sticks or any other material that makes a noise. Can you do that?”

“I think so.”

“No thinking about it, Tempo. Get out to the forest right away and practice it. I will follow you and pretend to attack you.”

“You are serious about this, Chief?” he queried.

“I am. Go now. I will intercept you somewhere not far from here. That is your only warning.”

Tempo had got his second wind, so turned and hurried off. John observed where he entered the forest, and strolled in the same general direction, but chose a different spot to go into the trees.

John switched to silent movement, listening as he approached the line taken by Tempo.

For a few minutes he glided through the forest, one careful step at a time, until I heard minor rustling of leaves ahead. John halted, waiting for more signs of movement, and slowly heard the swish of a branch spring back into position. Waiting a little longer, in case it was an animal, John’s ears tracked the movement by such miniscule noises, until he was certain it was a human, and began his own stealthy approach.

He eventually determined it was indeed Tempo, and observed that the man checked behind himself every few feet. He was stopping as he looked backward, hoping to hear John coming towards him.

John smiled, and changed his line of approach, so that he was moving parallel to Tempo. Tempo never seemed to consider what might be to either side, which suited John.

John moved a little ahead of Tempo and stopped in a crouched position to wait for him. As Tempo passed him, then stopped for another turn and look, John’s hand shot out and grabbed Tempo’s leg.

Holding it, John stood up, toppling the unbalanced Tempo over, send him falling down with a crash. As he went to try to stand up again, he found John’s knife at his throat, so he halted all movement as John said, “I heard you, Tempo. You need more practice.”
As he helped Tempo to his feet, the man gasped, “Where did you come from?”

“I listened to you, established where you were, then walked to your side until I was ahead of you, and then waited. When you walked past, you were a dead man if you had been an enemy. That is the advantage of walking silently, Tempo: it is a military tactic just as important as wielding a weapon.”

“You have convinced me, Chief. What gave me away?”

“Mostly brushing past bushes. Either the leaves make a noise as you go past them, or the branch bends as you pass, then it whips back after you pass, making a slight swishing sound. None of these noise are loud, but if you stop and listen for a little while, you often hear them, and that tells you where your opponent is walking. I try to either avoid bushes entirely, or else I hold a branch as I pass, and allow it to slowly return to its position, without a sound. It is not just your feet that cause sounds in the forest, Tempo. For instance, you don’t want your head to hit an overhead branch. Nine times out of ten, you will make an exclamation when that happens, even if the branch is silent. It is called situational awareness, and is part of the stealth approach.”

Tempo took this lesson in, and asked, “Can I try doing this as we go back to the cave?”

“Please do. I will stay behind you. Do not look back unless you hear a noise of some kind. I will do it once, to see if you hear it.”

They made their way back in this fashion, and Tempo managed to hear the one occasion of a branch swishing behind him. John congratulated him on hearing it, and they ended up walking side by side as they exited the trees, having walked without a sound for the last fifty yards.

John clapped him on the shoulder.

“A good performance by the end, Tempo. You have got the idea, though you need to practice it a lot to keep sharp. When you can creep up on an animal in the forest, you have mastered the art.”

The man wanted to know, “Am I silent enough to creep into their camp and kill some of them, John?”

“In the dark, I think so, for they will choose a clearing for their camp; so you have no bushes to give you away. Hopefully that have trampled their campsite enough to cancel any dead underbrush under your feet. All you have to do is keep your breathing slow and steady, so your breath does not wake anyone. You don’t arrive in a rush; this is not a noisy attack. Slow and steady gets you there, Tempo.”

“I see. Were you a military man before you came here, Chief John?”

“I was, Tempo. I learned many ways to kill, and learned that being quiet was one of the best ways to approach an enemy. You could instead take the standard approach of yell and shout as you attack, to frighten the enemy; but often the enemy is merely warned of your approach. It is even worse when you are facing each other across open ground, so that you are looking at each other. The winner in that situation is usually the one with the best weapons or the most warriors, or both.

That is why my comrades and I learned other ways of winning. These include knowing where the enemy are, how they are armed, and where they are going, without them being aware of you. That is known as Intelligence.

Knowing about your enemy allows you to plan your attack to suit your side. We learned that attacking when least expected is also useful, and at night is one of these occasions; but that assumes you can see what you are doing, so you need the enemy to have a camp fire. It will light them up, but their eyes will not be adapted to see into the darkness beyond, so that helps you as you approached. All this is known as tactics.”

“That all seems very complicated, Chief John.”

“It is only complicated until it is instilled into your mind, Tempo. It becomes second nature, like placing one foot in front of another as you walk.”

“I follow you. Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Yes. If the captives are kept apart from the wanderers group, and just guarded by two men, we need some light to see them by. The best time to attack them is as the daylight starts to fade. At that time we need to approach them from the direction of the setting sun, so it will blind them to anyone coming from that direction.

So, we need to get ourselves to where the wanderers are settling down, and get beyond the group of captives in preparation for our attack. I will take out the two guards, and your task will be to shepherd the captives away at an angle to the general line of movement of the wanderers. Try to take them to a hillside, as that is the best defensive position. Get the children to the highest position, and put yourself lowest, in readiness to defend against any wanderers that escape and may come your way. With a bit of luck, there will be none, but we prepare for every eventuality. These released people become your responsibility, Tempo. They must stay quiet as they move away, so as not to waken the main body of wanderers.”

Tempo’s face fell as he took in this injunction, but as he accepted that it was sign of an important responsibility, so he willingly took on the task.

“I will do as you say, Chief John. When do we leave?”

“Mid-afternoon, Tempo. Get yourself some rest meantime, for this is a major undertaking at which we must not fail.”

John retired to his furs to take a nap, after telling Numa why he was doing so. She reflected on this for a while, then discussed it with several other women. By the time John was awake again, she was ready for him.

“John, I understand you intend to attack this band of wanderers; just you and Tempo? Is that so?”

“It is, my dear Numa. Please don’t fret. I have done this sort of exercise before.”

“Well, you have an amendment to your plans. Some of your warriors are going with you, to help in the rescue of the captives, and take them away, while you and Tempo together can make a start on the wanderers. That should enhance your attacking force and make it more effective.”

John gaped at her. She made a lot of sense; better than most men would propose. He gave in.

“Okay, Numa my love. Let’s change the plan to: I attack the guards with the captives, while Tempo finds if the wanderers are sufficiently asleep for attacking silently. As soon as the guards are down, I use a bird call to signal that the warriors should come and collect the captives and steer them away.

Your warriors guide the captives away to the side, a good way off from the previous line of march, and you watch over them. Children will be a problem with possible noises, but you ladies should be able to shush them without using force.”

Numa informed him, “I have seven or eight volunteer warriors. That should be enough to accomplish that task. Do you want me to come and help with the sleeping wanderers?”

“I don’t think so. It may be a gory mess, after all; not nice for a female to observe or take part in.”

“John, a woman giving birth involves some blood and gore. We are not as squeamish as you might think. Let me come with one of the new knives. I can follow up on any man who doesn’t die outright: slit his throat or stick the blade into his heart. I can do that, John. I heard enough about what they are like.”

“If you insist, Numa, but I really think you are just watching over me!”

She smiled enigmatically at this remark, but left it at that.

Tempo was naturally the lead for this expedition, as he knew where to go to find the wanderer group. Numa and the other warriors followed, and John took up the rearguard position. It was several hours later that they slowed down, while Tempo checked on the current route of the wanderers. They had made very little advance; just a few miles through the forest trails which were more suited to single file walking. Shepherding a flock of captives made movement more difficult and slowed everything down. It also made hunting on the move a real problem, as the animals tried to avoid the large group of humans. The hunters also scouted ahead for a clearing to use for camp sites for meal breaks and for the night stop.

Tempo simply watched out for these hunters/scouts, and used them as a guide to where the main body was situated. It was only a matter of patience, then sneaking to where he could observe the group. He found that he didn’t even need to be particularly silent, as the hunters were remarkably noisy, and easily avoided. The captives trailed a long way behind the main wanderer group, and were escorted by only a couple of men as the captives were docile in order to avoid ill-treatment.

Once he knew where exactly the enemy were situated, Tempo returned to his own team and reported to John. They planned their next moves, considering the direction of the sunset and the speed of the wanderer group and their slower captives.

By the time the wanderers set up their night camp, the captives were hundreds of yards behind, and were kept in a smaller break in the trees, so that they were hemmed in and more easily watched. This suited John too. He sent Tempo to observe the main band, while he and the girls made their way round in a wide arc to get to the rear. By good luck this also was the general direction where the sun was setting, so he did not have to move round to the side. He merely had to go through the trees to get closer to the group of captives and their guards.

Once in position, he estimated the distance to the guards, for planning his crossbow shots, and ensuring a clear line of sight. He no sooner had that established, when the men changed their positions.

One decided he would fuck one of the female captives, while the other stood guard at the other side of the group. This left the fucker nearest John and the other guard at a much greater distance.

John prepared to fire on the furthest guard, reckoning he might need two shots to accomplish death. He laid his second bolt very close to his hand before he aimed the first one. The light was still present, but very low in the sky, so John would not be seen except in silhouette, if at all. He thus moved to a more satisfactory firing position, aimed, and fired; rewind immediately for a second shot. By the time he had rewound his crossbow enough to lift his eye, he saw the guard collapse with a bolt through his body – John was unsure where it had hit him.

Concluding that a second bolt was not needed at present, he quietly stepped up behind the other man, who was busy trying to get the girl to the hands and knees position for entry. The man was so eager to get at the girl that he had no idea someone was there, so John grabbed the man’s head, pulled him back, and then slit his throat with the survival knife, jerking the man sideways as he did so. This meant that the fountain of blood did not fall on the terrified girl.

His victim could only gurgle as he died, for his windpipe was sliced open. John quickly grabbed the girl and placed his hand over her mouth, indicating by a hand signal that she should be quiet. As she calmed down, John pointed her back to the group and indicated she should join them.

He then made a short bird-call, trying to be an owl, and in moments the warriors were there, surrounding the captives and silently ushering them up and away to the chosen side.

Now John could check on the guard he had hit with a bolt, and stepped cautiously over to him. The man was dead, curled up round the bolt which had hit him just below the heart, stopping it with the shock of the impact.

After digging out his bolt and holstering it, John stepped smartly towards the main group, with Numa following behind him; watching out for Tempo and any man who was still awake. Tempo spotted him in the dying sunlight and did the same owl call to alert John.

John moved round to join Tempo, who whispered that only one man had been awake for a while as he needed a pee in the trees, but was now apparently asleep, wrapped up in an animal hide. He pointed out the location of the man, in case he was not fully asleep.

John nodded his understanding, then gestured. He would go one way round the camp, Tempo would go the other.

They moved off, treading carefully as they went, each with a survival knife in hand. The sleeping wanderers were stabbed or their throat cut, depending on how they were lying. The ones on their backs had the knife thrust straight into the heart, those on their sides mostly had their throat cut. Neither method produced much noise, so the others slept on and died in turn. Numa was John’s shadow as they moved; then one of the wanderers turned in his sleep and somehow sensed all was not well.

John had moved past him, so Numa swung round, knife in hand, and spitted the man in the chest before he could do more than show surprise on his face. He subsided without a sound, his heart stopped immediately by the knife thrust.

John eventually found himself facing Tempo, and gave him an open hand wave of recognition before they turned to look towards the fire. There was one man lying near the fire, snoring. John pointed at himself, and moved slowly towards the snorer, while Tempo and Numa looked around for any other living wanderer.

Shortly thereafter, the snoring became a brief gurgle and stopped. John returned to Tempo and Numa, and asked the pair, soft-voiced, “Do we want anything from them – weapons, etc?”

Numa scowled and shook her head. Tempo thought about it, and joined her, saying, “If anyone comes along and finds them, the fact that nothing is missing might frighten them even more!”

John grinned and said, “Good thinking, Tempo. Numa, which way do we go to find the captives?”

She had to orient herself with the tallest tree surrounding the clearing, lit by the camp fire, then gestured back to where the captives had been held.

“We go back there, and I can point the direction from that position, John.”

Just after saying that, her face crumpled and she bent over to vomit on the ground. John grabbed hold of her to steady her. “It gets to most folk at first.”

Numa coughed, cleared her throat. and asked, “What?”

“Killing a man. Most folk get queasy afterwards; is all I was saying.”

“Bollocks. This is baby sickness; I can tell. Killing that turd was nothing.”

“Oh. Sorry, love. It didn’t occur to me.”

“Well, get used to it. You have plenty of wives, so some more of us are bound to get this sickness, but it is unpredictable.”

“I am sad for you, Numa dear. Does it happen much longer?”

“Can vary from a short time to several moons. As I said, unpredictable. Let’s try not to step in my vomit in the dark.”

“Right. Tempo, please lead the way.”

There was enough residual moonlight in the sky to allow some travel with care, and as it was so close, they were shortly at the smaller clearing where only the two dead guards lay. Numa was able to point the direction of the captives and her warriors, and they set off, calling from time to time: “John’s Tribe”. This was to avoid being attacked as wanderers.

At last they heard a return call: “Here!”, and made their way to the spot, where several warriors were on guard to protect the released and exhausted captives who were laid out among the trees, sleeping the sleep of innocence.

John and Numa were welcomed with hugs and kisses, and Tempo got a few hugs as well, for his efforts in the rescue.

Raka was on hand to report on the food situation.

“We have given them all the food we brought with us, and it still was not enough. They are still hungry, so we need some hunting and gathering as soon as daylight is here, provided it is safe to do so.”

Numa gave her a happy smile. “All the wanderers are dead, so no longer a threat, Raka. If we can have all the adults out gathering berries and nuts, if they are still to be found, then the men can hunt out some meat for later. It will be a long trip home. The children can’t move fast.”

Raka nodded. “It will be a long day indeed, I think.”

Numa wondered, “Can we make some travois and pull them along, Raka?”

“Good thinking, Numa. They are designed for animals to pull, but we can use the push style for carrying children.”

This set of plans worked the next day, and a sorry-looking but happier bunch of refugees trailed in the tribe’s clearing in the late afternoon. As soooun as they got to the cave, Numa organised the administration of the abortion drug to all menstruating females who had been raped, which was almost all of them. After using the potion, there would be no lasting result of their terror journey with the wanderers, and the women were delighted to hear that every last wanderer was no more.

Raka was a trifle put out at this reaction. “Was there none that were worth saving?” she asked the women.

They were emphatic in their reply.

“None. Some were less brutal than others, but they were all happy to rape any woman among us. We were just there to be used before becoming slaves to be sold, in their estimation, so all of these men deserved to die.”

The warriors glanced up at the hazy sun, and started pushing the newcomers inside the cave, telling them to move back. The men – there were only three of them, all under twenty – complained at being pushed by females, but the warriors ignored this.

“It is for your safety,” they were told.

Noma came to the front to supervise this movement, telling her sister the Chief, “It is nearly time for the next delivery.”

“Already? Where did the time go, today?”

Noma grinned. “You clearly didn’t have time to fuck our husband this morning.”

Numa put on a downcast face. “That’s a fact. We had too much to do, herding this bunch and getting them here. They were deadly slow, even after we made travois for the children. They were not used to dragging something like that. I think they had never used one before.”

John asked, thoughtfully, “Has anyone tried the puppies with a mini-travois, to get them used to the idea of pulling a travois?”

Numa answered, “No, but is sounds a good way to train them. I’ll see about starting that training.”

As they were speaking, the delivery system materialised a new delivery. It fell and crashed through into the pit. A quick rush over to it, and they found another animal with a belt of knives strapped round it. The pup was another bitch, which pleased John. They now have enough animals to breed from in future and build up a supply of dogs. Once the tribe had sufficient for their needs, the surplus could be traded to other tribes, he reckoned.

The belt of knives was unstrapped, and the bitch released and taken to the cave to meet the other pups.

John noticed an envelope tucked in between a knife and the belt. Puling it out, he opened the envelope and pulled out a typed letter.

Scanning the contents, he is shocked at what he finds. The letter tells him he was supposed to set up a military regime with a Fascist ethos supporting it. The letter supposes he knows this but has had difficulty in implementing it, for there has been no sign of expected changes at home. He is urged to speed up his activities, and make the changes that will provide the new society they are seeking.

He recognised this to be a one-way communication, for he cannot send any messages back except a symbol of two on the map wall. There is no way he can reply to the letter, he concluded. John sat down on the grass and had a think.

What they want is not something he could go along with, and wondered at himself for agreeing to this proposition back then. His conclusion is that he never had any intention of going through with their plans; in fact he may have already decided to sabotage them before he ever came here. Losing most of his memory merely encouraged that sort of reaction. The memory loss is obviously a side effect of whatever mechanism or technique they used to send him here. As they seemed to be political fanatics, there was no way that they invented or even engineered the time travel machine. They probably took it over from someone else, for their own purposes.

That would mean that they were in a hurry to get what they wanted.; thus the willingness to send what he asked for through the wall map. If they were indeed in a hurry, that willingness would not last long. The results could get dangerous, such as his envisaged scenario of a small explosive device to take him out of the equation and let them start again with a more pliant volunteer.

Timing remained at roughly 24-hour intervals. That was probably the doing of the technicians running the show. They must have made it plain that it was a technical aspect of the mechanism that couldn’t be changed. The technical crew would not be too fazed by animals with hand weapons and medical gear, but they might balk at bombs being sent through. That might delay such a wipe-out idea, but not for very long; eventually their scruples would be overruled. His exclusion zone was still a good precaution to take, and the pit might do well to be deepened, to absorb an explosion, should it come.

Having decided that, he got to his feet and went to find something to act as a shovel. The knife would do fine for loosening the dirt for shifting.

He met Gomla near the cave mouth. She wanted to speak to him about the rescued men women and children, though there were few men, and they were young; late teens. Gomla had the idea that they should all be recruited into the tribe’s defence force.

“Having heard about how many wanderers there were, darling, I was worried that we didn’t have enough warriors to fully defend the tribe. Would you approve of us training them up, once they have recovered from their abuse – particularly the women?”

John was struck by her practicality. It was typical of the locals to be practical about any situation, and live with it.

“Good thinking, Gomla. We need a larger defence force, especially when we will have babies due to be born in another seven or eight months. It is difficult to fight with a big belly!” He smiled at her, and she automatically placed a hand on her own belly as she thought about it.

“Yes, you are going to be a Daddy many times over, my love.”

John smiled in acknowledgement, gave her a quick kiss, and instructed, “Discuss training with Numa. Tell her I am fine with the plan, and go over the details of when and how you will start the training regime. Oh, and tell Sheila and Vickie that I need to speak to them as soon as they can get to me. Okay?”

“Sure. I knew you be be fine with this. Is Numa definitely going to be the new Chief?”

“Yes. She already is, so start treating her with some dignity!” John grinned, knowing Numa already commanded dignity among all the tribe.

Gomla laughed delightedly, and went off to her tasks.

Both women were nearby, and were soon beside him.

“What is it, John?” asked Vickie, while Sheila waited for his reply.

“I got a letter along with the knives. It confirmed my worst assumption. Here, read it for yourselves.” He handed the letter to Vickie. She opened it, and leaned across so that Sheila could read it with her. John was pleased at this cooperative sign, and waited.

Sheila was quick to react.

“Damn! They are a nasty bunch, aren’t they?”

Vickie added, “You are not going to do any of that, are you, John?”

“No. I have higher standards. They clearly did not know that, or else whatever they used to try to convert me, didn’t survive the transition to here.”

Sheila wanted to know, “So what ARE we going to do, my man?”

John commented, “Proceed as before: try to build a cooperative union of tribes that live in harmony with each other. Mutual protection from wandering bands of brigands, and mutual defence against attacks from warlike tribes.”

Vickie said, “That is contrary to these instructions in the letter. What will be the result, in your opinion?”

“Much like yours, I suspect: a more cooperative society in the future. Well defended but not inherently aggressive. Anyone who attacks, they must come off worst afterwards, and we take over the attacking bunch and do our damnedest to make them more like us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” declared Sheila, while Vickie appeared thoughtful.

“John?”

“Yes, my love?”

“This is going to show up back then, eventually, isn’t it?”

“I am taking that as read. I want humanity to be a bit nicer to each other in the future.”

“So what are the people who sent the letter going to do? Will they have changed their attitude because we are making a better society?”

“Hmm ... unfortunately, in the best of societies, some individuals just never fit in, and act selfishly instead. Society tries to steer them in the right direction, but it doesn’t always work. I have never heard of a society where there are no criminals or rebels of one sort or another; so that bunch will still be revolutionaries in their time; hopefully not effective.”

“That is what I thought. My worry is that they will send back someone or something to eradicate us before we can gain the advantage. You see what I am getting at?”

“Yes, love. I have considered the same outcome. It was part of my reason for the pit; implying that it was to stop the arriving animals from running off with our cargo, was only part of my idea. If they send a grenade or some sort of bomb, then hopefully the pit will contain most of the blast. Remember, from our observations, you need an animal as the carrier for any metal objects, so the size of any bomb is limited because part of the load is being taken up by the animal. The approximately fifty feet of exclusion zone that I asked for; that should be enough to shield everyone from a bomb large enough to come through the machine, which is what I am assuming it is. We have never seen two animals or two people come through together, which is why I think the carrying capacity is limited.”