Chapter 18

John was intrigued and curious, among other reactions of puzzlement.

“I wish I knew the reason for this migration of wanderers. If they were really part of an army, I would expect them to have some expertise in fighting as a group. The ones we have encountered don’t seem to have that expertise, unless.”

Maranga looked at him inquiringly. “Unless what?”

“Unless they started a very long way away from here, and have lost the ones with the expertise and collected new blood as they went along. Gradually the new blood would be assimilated; someone new would take charge, but without the same military knowledge, and the group would continue to function in a gradually deteriorating state as time went on.

That would suggest that they have been on the move for a very long time, effectively like a nomadic tribe, but one would expect them to have collected wives and children long the way. Now why would that not happen? Why exclusively males?”

“A military ethos?” Maranga offered.

“Or a military structure,” concluded John. “They may have retained the all-male organisational structure, without even the usual camp followers. If they simply capture women and girls, abuse them for their pleasure, then sell them on as slaves, they would never achieve a normal tribal structure. Some captured males would have the temperament to join the band, and so keep the numbers up.”

“But surely some man would take a fancy to a girl, and want to keep her for himself, as a wife?”

“In that case, the man would drop out of the wanderer band and take up life as a family man, probably linking himself to a settled tribe later. His wife would not be safe otherwise.”

“So the wandering band would basically be feral humans, preying on other humans?” asked Maranga.

“I think that sums it up,” replied John.

“So, can we assume that this is the end on these wanderers for the near future?”

John pondered.

“I don’t think we can dare to make such an assumption. We must be ready for whatever we encounter. My assumption may be wrong. These two bands may be men who are being pushed in this direction by even worse wanderers, perhaps a proper army that has chased them in this direction!”

Maranga looked worried. “You don’t seem to think that a ëproper army’ would be anything but bad.”

“I have seen, and heard, and read, evidence that backs up my opinion, Maranga.”

“Oh, dear. I don’t like the sound of this.”

“It needn’t be as bad as I am suggesting. If an army is correctly run by its officers in an efficient manner, there is very little to worry about; but one that is badly officered; that can be a worry. Fortunately, a badly run army also performs poorly in battle as a rule.”

“So what do you want us to do; your two tribes?”

“Prepare. It boils down to planning a defensive strategy; how you defend your tribe from any attack. This means working out where and what are your weak spots, and work out how to counter any attack on these points. Your tribe had weak points around the perimeter, where people go go out and in without hindrance. I have already asked for protective ditches to be dug across these approaches, with temporary bridges for tribal members to use; but bridges that can be withdrawn at a moment’s notice.

As I have said before, intelligence about what a possible enemy is doing; what direction they are coming from, and so on, is important to know, so you need scouts to be keeping an eye open for strangers, especially strangers as a group. This can be a useful task for teenage boys, and will show them how valuable their efforts are for the tribe.

Communication is a vital tool in defence, so arrangements are needed to convey messages back to the tribe in time for defensive works to be brought into play: things like pulling back bridges over ditches, dragging the thorn barrier across the front gateway; and your warriors gathering their weapons and manning the defensive points all round the village.”

“We don’t go and attack the enemy?”

“Not until you know you have sufficient power to do so. Because your encampment is built on higher ground, that gives you an advantage over enemies having to come uphill. You don’t want to lose that advantage. Armies have at times lost battles through losing that uphill advantage.

Another aspect of dangerous tactics is letting yourself becoming flanked. That means allowing an enemy to approach you from the sides in a pincer movement. That can be fatal.”

“John, you sound like you have fought battles before; not just the skirmishes in recent days that you have described to us.”

“Not exactly, Maranga. I was a specially trained foot soldier in an elite unit.”

“What does that mean, John?”

“Our unit was composed of men who had to pass extremely tough physical and mental tests to be allowed to join the unit; and even then we had to train continually to learn many techniques to achieve what our unit needed to achieve. Each of us specialised in one aspect of fighting; transport, explosives, communications, and so on, so that we had an expert on practically everything we needed. A dozen of our men in the right circumstances, could be more effective than 500 ordinary soldiers.”

“Wow. I knew there was indeed something special about you, John. I felt that, the first time I saw you, when you visited Mongo. I was in the background, watching and observing how you behaved. You impressed me, I can tell you.”

“You are no slouch yourself, Maranga. You don’t become The Wise Woman without having learned a lot about people and things. That I know; it was one of the reasons I saw your potential as the new Chief.”

“It wasn’t a sudden decision, then?”

“Good grief, no. Part of my visit was to suss out the tribe, finding who were the movers and shakers here. I saw at once that the Shaman was a dodgy character, but I failed to assess him as a killer. There, I failed. With you, I didn’t fail.”

Maranga smiled in delight.

“I think we have covered all items of business, John, my man, so now we move to pleasure.” She turned to Bertha. “Bertha, will you escort my advisers away from this hut for the next hour or so, while John and I get better acquainted?”

Once they were alone, Maranga led John over to her sleeping furs, and swiftly peeled off her clothing, saying, “I washed myself with soap this morning, and washed my hair with your shampoo, John, just so I would be ready for you if you arrived. Take me now.”

She knelt down on the furs, bent over, and presented her rump towards him.

“Your warriors told me you did things differently, but this is all I have heard of in our tribe. Is it acceptable?”

“Maranga, when a woman offers her body to a man, ANY way is acceptable, but I prefer the face-on concept. May I show you?”

He got her to turn round, but instead of immediately impaling her, he started by kissing her lips, then her breasts, then her nipples. This stimulated her and she found herself rubbing her clit and then begging, “Fuck me, John. I need it to happen now.”

“Are you still a virgin, Maranga?”

“Yes, but not for long. Mount me, my man!”

“The first time, if you still have a hymen at your entrance, may hurt somewhat.”

“I know, but it doesn’t matter; go for it!”

John went for it, and surprisingly Maranga had no bother. Whatever hymen was present was swiftly penetrated without pain, and she gasped with the full feeling inside her vagina.

“By the holy Earth Mother! This is great. Is it always like this, John?”

She applied lip lock and sucked John’s face until he got a chance to answer.

“It might be. It depends on who is doing it, how, and why. Loving like this is more than simply fucking; it is an exchange of feelings of love, often with the intention of starting a baby.”

“Well, that is my target, so,” and began applying pressure with her vagina. John found himself participating fully, plunging in and out until Maranga gave a new gasp as she orgasmed. This caused him to spasm and deliver his sperm into her body.

“Oh Oh OHHHH! John, what was that?”

He explained what he knew about female orgasms. She replied, “I knew about men spurting when they orgasmed, but I didn’t realise women could have that sort of reaction too. I like it.”

“You will have many more in the future, Maranga, if I have anything to do with it!”

“I think I felt you spurting, John. Will that mean I will have a baby?”

“It is possible, Maranga, but it depends where you are in your monthly cycle. On certain days you will be most fertile. These are the times when lovemaking is most likely to make you pregnant. Do you know where you are in your cycle now?”

“About halfway between the bleedings.”

“Hah! That is about the best time for getting pregnant, so we must do this again tomorrow once we are married, and see if that is successful. We won’t know until you have confirmed that your monthlies have ceased, so it takes time. I thought you were supposed to be the Wise Woman?”

Maranga glared at him. “Nobody is knowledgeable about everything, John. I had no experience in this line, so my knowledge was deficient there.”

She relaxed with a sigh, satisfied. “John, once we get dressed again, I want you to take Bertha to see her daughters, and you can return her tomorrow when you come for the wedding. She will not want to miss that, but I want it mostly so that she will not bother her daughters in their healing.”

“I will look after her well, Maranga. I know my responsibility to her, and for Mongo’s memory as well.”

“Do that. She deserves some good things to happen to her, for once. If she was not already too old, I would have asked you to give her another baby.”

John blinked at this notion. “I hope that was not a serious idea, Maranga. I do not think it is a good idea to even think of.”

“Oh, sorry, my love. With all these women you have, it did not occur to me that you would ever say no to starting another baby; not that it was feasible anyway.”

“You have started, Maranga; did you notice? You called me ëmy love’: the pheromones are doing their job, just as I promised.”

“So? I have no objections. You are worth being loved, my man. Now, get yourself prepared top go back to your other tribe.”

John reluctantly left Maranga’s side, and got dressed for the journey. He checked that Bertha was fit enough to walk for several hours, but she harrumphed at the suggestion that she might not be fit. She grabbed a walking stick, and looked impatiently at John to lead off.

John made a rough guess at the time, and decided they would not be back until long after the next arrival from uptime. He shrugged, and gave a gentlemanly gesture to Bertha that they were now leaving the tribe.

Maranga came to Kiss Bertha tenderly on the cheek, then kissed John full on the lips to show anyone watching that he was now her man.

They set off, leaving Maranga to her tribal concerns.

John walked carefully, making sure that Bertha was not being stressed in this long trek to the cave. He needn’t have worried, for she was looking forward to seeing her daughters. The long walk was merely a means to that end.

They did make a few short breaks for a little bit of rest and recuperation, and the set off again, so John reckoned they would be there in time for the evening meal.

He was surprised not to be challenged in the forest before getting to the clearing. He moved more delicately before stepping out of the trees. There was a group of tribesfolk clustered at the cave entrance, chattering to themselves.

Annoyed at the lapse in security, John called, “Ahoy the cave!”

This brought about a change, as the designated warriors remembered their duty and ran to greet him. He waited for them to arrive, and as they reached him, asked, “What was that all about?”

They looked abashed, and a blushing Deelia admitted, “Sorry, Chief. We are still very upset about what happened earlier.”

John got angry, and demanded, “WHAT happened earlier, Deelia? Don’t be so vague!”

“Oh, yes. You were the only one not here when it happened. A MAN came through, but he came with a bang-weapon going off the moment he appeared. It seemed as if he intended harm to everyone.”

“Bang-weapon? A gun? Was anyone hurt? Is Numa okay? Vickie? Sheila? All the others?”

“Nobody got hurt. Actually, that is not true. The only person who got hurt was the man himself.”

“What? The gunman got hurt?”

This was becoming more and more unbelievable to John. He need to know more.

Deelia’s sister, Feelia, who was standing with her, took up the tale.

“You know you dug that hole to catch the animals and stop them running away with their burden?”

John frowned, “Yes. So?”

“So, he fell down into it as he was firing his bang-thing, his gun you called it? It went off again and again; so fast, it was like one continuous sound. When he fell though the brushwood, the branches caught his arm or hand or the bang-thing, or something, and jerked the gun ... around, so it stopped firing outwards from him, and instead it went all over the place, as if he could not control it. Is that possible, Chief John?”

“If it was set on automatic, it would keep firing until it was stopped or it ran out of ammunition. What happened next?”

“The things it was throwing out as it banged; they started hitting the sides of the hole. There were stones among the dirt, and it seems that some of these things hit the stones and bounced back. So many of these things were coming out of the gun, that the man was hit by some of them.”

“Ah!” said John as he let his breath out. “So what happened to him?”

“Some of these small things like stones bounced back and went into him, and made him dead. There was a lot of blood, for none of us dared to go down there until long afterwards. Perhaps he might have lived if we went down sooner, but we were all afraid of the loud noises. Nobody dared to do anything at all.

By the time anyone tried to venture to the hole, he was lying dead, unmoving, with much blood around him soaking onto the soil. When we saw that, we just left him. Numa declared that the man had killed himself, so we would wait for High Chief John to come and sort out the situation.

We were still talking over the matter when you arrived. Oh, you have a stranger with you! Another woman?”

“Feelia and Deelia, allow me to present Lady Bertha, widow of Chief Mongo of the Farfarers Clan. She is here to visit her daughters; the three injured girls.”

The young woman caught herself, and then both women bowed low to Bertha. John performed the introductions.

“Bertha; Feelia and Deelia are two of the tribe’s warriors. They are normally more organised, but this afternoon’s excitement was too much for them and the rest of my warriors. Please forgive them for their laxness.”

Bertha was staring at the belligerent women armed with spears, and with knives at their belts.

“These are some of your warriors?” She sounded suspicious.

“Most of our warriors are women, Bertha. To begin with, we were short of men, so the women took on the defence of the tribe, and it just grew from there. I trained them. Female warriors are just the norm around here, though we have a few men who fill in for some gaps in the ranks. Pregnant women will eventually have to retire from the warrior positions, so we need to prepare for that. Everyone, man or woman, is well trained for the task, and should do well against untrained warriors.”

Bertha took the initiative, as a Chief’s wife, or now widow.

“John, if you have to go look at this man, I had better go up to the cave and meet your family. My delay in greeting them is not good manners in meeting a Chief’s wives.”

John explained, “I am no longer Chief of this tribe, Bertha. My first wife, Numa, is now Chief, as I am now High Chief for both tribes. So her wives are also my wives. It is a bit complicated, but not intended to be. Please go on with Feelia, and I shall get Deelia to show me the deceased arrival.”

Feelia took on the task of escorting Bertha to the cave, while John and Deelia plodded over to where the deep hole lay.

Getting there, John stared down into the foxhole, amazed at its effectiveness. Instead of protecting the soldier inside, it had killed the present occupant. The body lay crumpled up and unmoving at the foot of the excavation, surrounded by some of the loose soil that had been blasted out by the fusillade. The man had collapsed into a corner, looking pathetically small. Dead bodies tend to have that look, John remembered. Military matters crept up on him at unexpected times, he noted. He also recalled being trained to ignore the humanity of corpses, and just view them as indeterminate ëcasualties’ of war. That was easier for the mind to cope with, he had been told.

He adopted that mindset and looked for the bullet wounds. There were a surprising number of them, then he saw that the weapon lying there was an automatic rifle, not just a handgun. The way it was lying, John could see it was set on automatic, which he thought stupid. You don’t step into an unknown field of battle with your rifle already about to fire. The moment the man started to fall, his finger would tighten on the trigger, placing the automatic mechanism into full operation, emptying a whole magazine through the rifle in a few seconds. It was no wonder that he committed suicide by his action.

John decided he would try to gain some data from this corpse, so called for a couple of the stronger males to give him a hand. They soon had the dead man lifted out and laid on the grass. John got the lads to hand him the gun as well, and he laid it to one side, knowing it was empty.

The man’s clothes were of little help. They had allowed him to wear his clothes, but with nothing in the exterior pockets; not even a bill-fold with notes that might give away the date back then. The guy was wearing no jewellery, not even a wedding ring.

His inside pocket, though, proved a treasure chest on its own. This pocket contained an envelope with a letter inside.

John told the men, “Take this body into the trees, well away from the stream, and dump it. He was a bad man and we will treat his body as such. If you can use the clothing, help yourself.”

The lads grinned, and grabbed a leg each to tow it away to the side of the clearing that had no stream, and took it into the trees.

John cast his eyes over his find. The letter was succinct and explanatory.

Your name is George. We suspect that the travel unit affects your memory, so this is to give you essential data.

Your task is to set up a functioning military state, you being in charge, with a remit to eventually conquer the world, which will take generations. Accordingly, you have been prepared with nanos to make your pheromones very attractive to females, which should assist in procreation of later leaders. Your predecessor is presumed to have gone his own way when he lost his memory, for he has not been acting as we expected; there have been no observable alterations here. You should first eliminate him and his organisational structure before taking over and setting the local tribal society back on the path we envisaged.

With luck, you have already made a start on that by firing your automatic weapon on arrival. Apologies if that surprised you, but we did not want to take risks that he may have prepared for you, so set it so your arrival triggered that event, and made your initial strong impact on him and the local community. He has no firearms to stop you.

Once you have taken over the site, go into the cave and find the wall map. It has a strip at the top that can be used for short pictograms. Mark the symbol, capital X, and that will tell us you have arrived and are in control.

We will then be able to supply you with essentials for future development that we are now preparing for you. These will arrive at the same spot where you landed. There is an unfortunate minimum 24-hour lag between deliveries. This is an inherent defect of the machine, not our choice. We are also preparing a long-term supply shuttle for you.

Good luck with your mission.

John laid down the missive. It explained so many things, but continued to hide others. He now knew that the plan was a takeover of the world, gradually, from the far past. The time machine, or whatever they called it, was in their control, but reading between the lines, they did not know its operation in detail, and what the possible side effects were. But these schemers now knew they could send through a man wearing clothes and carrying a rifle, and had added an aide memoire to assist him.

But what else did they know?

Was it them that introduced these nanomachines into his body, or did they merely order it to be done, having learned of the technique? It suggested there was a guiding hand behind this evil group, pushing it in specific directions to achieve an end that was planned as a world-changing political system. The letter admitted the cause of my pheromone alterations.

John realised that no matter what was happening back in the future, his only means of redress was to act in an opposite fashion, hoping to gain a world society that was more caring about its people and its physical and natural world.

Could one man’s vision reshape an entire world? It seemed highly unlikely, although the people in charge back home seemed to think so. There were so many factors that affected the development of the human race: natural disasters by volcano and flood; epidemics of disease of man and animal; drought from rain failure, food shortages caused by plagues of locusts and other insects; and the calamities man brought upon himself by ignoring the essential balances of nature that the planet had sustained for hundreds of millions of years. It appeared an impossible dream.

His memory pointed out to him that certain visionaries had a more upbeat view of mankind: the Buddha and Jesus among them. These individuals inspired hordes of good-seeking followers over the centuries, but at the same time others, wanting power or control, re-interpreted the basic teachings into a form that suited their twisted ideology. Then there was the Baha’i faith that, while more recent, also promoted a peaceful view of humanity.

John did not know what he ought to do. His emotional impetus was to provide a framework for those with benevolent intent to follow, but he baulked at the idea of starting a religion. What he wanted was a life-view that taught toleration of the views of others, but at the same time sought to preserve the society of toleration from perversion.

Ideally, he would find some local visionary whom he could steer in the right direction, and leave him ñ or her ñ to push the ideas; a sort of institute of learning that concentrated on those virtues. Could he help the idea of the Earth Mother take off instead of being sidelined? He would have to find out what exactly the Earth Mother faith encompassed at the present, just in case there were aspects that conveyed a darker prospect for life. This point would be the important start position, where he could emphasize the need to remain true to the ideals without resorting to force to impose them on people. Force should only be used for protection.

“Chief John?” His attention was wrenched from the letter and his thoughts, back to the present.

“Sorry, my mind was diverted. What can I do for you, my dear?”

The girl informed him, “Chief Numa requests your presence with her and the Lady Bertha, as soon as you can be there, sir.”

“At once.” John got to his feet, stuffed the letter into his belt pouch, and picked up the rifle for cleaning. He dragged himself to the cave entrance, his mind still churning, but as he got there he forced himself to pay attention to the matter at hand.

“Here I am, Numa. What do you want me for, my love?”

“John, Lady Bertha has been along to see her girls, and is pleased with their progress; so much so, that she is already talking about their future.”

“That’s good,” murmured John, not really thinking about the subject, only taking in the fact of their progress.

Numa paused before continuing, deliberately speaking more slowly and distinctly, “She asked her girls if any of them would be interested in becoming a wife to High Chief John, once the girl was back to normal.”

“She did?” John exclaimed, feigning complete ignorance.

“Yes. The upshot of that was that all three indicated a willingness to take up that offer! I must say, it was a shock to me, for they are still young girls, but there is a diplomatic side to the offer. A marriage would cement an alliance between the two tribes, but there is no requirement for you to marry all three, John. You have enough wives to satisfy any man as it is. If you refuse, I will not thank any worse of you, but the alliance aspect is still worthwhile. Think it over.”

“Um” John pretended it was all new to him. Bertha examined his countenance with a pretended anxiousness, but a little grin crept onto her face as she watched him thinking it over. He came out with a puzzled-sounding, “All three? Really?”

Numa looked angry with his prevarication. “It is not a difficult matter to think over, my darling husband. In fact, as they are so young, you could officially marry them then leave off the fucking until they are old enough and their bodies mature enough to be safe with all the consequences. You have been lucky so far with young women, but come time for birthing, there could be difficulties. Vickie and Sheila have already spoken to me about this matter, for they are used to some fancy preparations for giving birth that we don’t have here; a hospital they called it. I don’t see why a building would make a difference.”

“It is not the building, Numa, but the trained staff inside, but, yes; I understand their concern. It would indeed be wise to put off any young teen giving birth, until her body was mature enough to make it fairly safe. Of course, if Sheila was able to find a herbal contraceptive, that may solve the immediate difficulty. Young girls tend to be keen to experience sex, don’t they, Numa?”

“Not being a young girl, I wouldn’t know, dear. My father was very protective about me and Noma, so we didn’t get the opportunity to find out what you suggest. I wonder if Sheila’s abortion medicine could be adapted for contraception? I shall ask her.”

Bertha intruded, “None of this answers the question, John. Will you accept my daughters as wives, even if there is some delay in consummating the matches?”

“Bertha, I will do anything to gain your esteem, so if that is your genuine desire, it shall be so.”

“John, I am only reflecting the wishes of my poor girls, who are all I have left of my family. I can see that you would be a good man for them, so I will not stand in their way.”

John sighed. “Very well, Bertha. Your family will become my family, when we get around to it.”

“No, John,” Numa insisted, “We will perform that marriage ceremony as soon as Bertha and her girls feel healthy enough to be up to it. Bertha, I leave the timing up to you, in consultation with advice from Sheila as their medicine woman.”

“Yes, dear,” said John, cowed by his first wife’s demanding tone.

Numa smiled at him and gave him an endearing kiss, then gestured to Bertha, who also kissed him, saying, “Thank you, Chief John.”

They were interrupted by Tarka, who wanted to speak with John. Bertha got up and left.

Tarka started, “Chief John, who do I report to now? You were the one who sent me out to the other tribes, but Chief Numa now is in charge of John’s Tribe, so I am confused.”

“Sorry, Tarka. I have been elevated to High Chief, so the two tribes need their own Chiefs. Numa has accepted the leadership of this tribe, and Maranga is now Chief of the Farfarers. She is actually the younger sister of Chief Mongo, so the leadership stays in the family. Making it even more so, Maranga wants to marry me, and the ceremony is tomorrow. Sorry I didn’t discuss this with you, Numa. Maranga wants me to have a few wives with me at the ceremony, but not all; Maranga sees that as overkill!”

Numa patted his knee where he sat next to her. “Bertha told me this, love. I have it in hand, so don’t worry.”

“Thank goodness! I was suddenly concerned that I may have offended you, for it is a Chief’s matter. I was diverted by the dead man in the hole.”

“Yes. Frightening, that was. The minute all the noise stopped, all my warriors grabbed their spears, ready to repel whoever was attacking us, but it was over already, and no longer a problem. Do you think this action might repeat, John? I didn’t like that weapon’s sound.”

“It’s sound is the least to be concerned about, Numa. It fires out small metal objects at great speed, as fast as lightning, it must seem. Getting hit by one of these, because of the impact, is like being hit by several spears all at once. Death is a high probability if you are hit by one of these objects. We call them bullets.

Fortunately, the weapon ñ a rifle is its name ñ is now in our hands, and we were previously sent a supply of magazines containing bullets for it, so we can be dangerous if we have to be. Once the bullets are all used up, the weapon will be useless, so it will be for emergencies only.”