Nowhere Man, Book One.
Copyright© 2018 by Gordon Johnson
Chapter 35
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 35 - My take on the man displaced through time/alternate worlds/whatever. The hero arrives naked, almost defenceless, with no memory of his past. How does he cope, and why is he there?
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Consensual Rape Heterosexual Science Fiction Far Past Time Travel Humiliation Sadistic Polygamy/Polyamory
During the next five minutes, as the light began to fade, there was little to observe at the site, except that a few lamps were being lit in the conference tent. It seemed that discussion was continuing. Well, John thought to himself, we will give them something to talk about, if they survive our arrows. I hope I get this right...
He found himself tensing, as he always did before an attack.
The dimming light told him it was time, so he started his set of commands by ordering the fire pots lit.
He soon got feedback saying all the fire pots were lit, so he issued the ‘load’ command, and made a final estimate of how far they had to step to get within range of the conference tent.
“Two hands plus two paces” he declared, and Numa started passing it on. Everyone stepped out with their weapons and fire pots, and made the required move in silence. John noted that they indeed moved like ghosts in the dimness.
In a short time they were in position, and he ordered, “load”. The arrows were dipped into the smouldering fire pots and brought up into position as the warriors took aim and the flames started. John ordered, “Loose”, and the fire arrows were gone on their way.
To John’s consternation, halfway there, most of the flames on the arrows had vanished, and the arrows landed on and into the tent skin. Surprising John, the flames now resumed, took hold, and burning of the tent began.
He finally twigged that the burning material had lost their flame due to the speed through the air, but were still smouldering during the flight. On arrival, the flames resumed and quickly spread to the tent.
Those inside would have noticed nothing until the tent began burning through, as it was far above their heads. As with most events of that kind in the army, when noticed, there was an automatic assumption that it was a minor problem, to be dealt with by the underlings; and their discussion continued until flames began licking along the underside of the tent roof, faster and faster.
Now the officers began shouting for the troops to come and deal with the fire before it spread further, and men began to appear at the entrance, and staring up at the flames in surprise.
Spurred on by the officers, men rushed to find containers to gather water to fight the flames. By the time they came back, the realisation came that they had no way of getting the water up as high as the tent roof, apart from throwing water ineffectually into the air. The water failed to reach the flames, which went merrily onwards along the roof.
It then dawned on the officers that there was not a single seat of the fire, but multiple sites of flames, some of them near the tent entrance, and all spreading fast. Officers began to scan around the tent, more and more concerned. When a burning arrow fell from the tent roof, and landed by one of the officers, He at last concluded that they were under attack.
Over the shouts of the other officers, he called, “We are under attack. Men, to arms!”
An NCO, trying to make some sort of order from the chaos, stood at the tent entrance to issue instructions to his men, but suddenly went mute as an arrow pierced his side and he collapsed.
Seeing this, the officers sensed that if they went out there, they would also be targets, but if they stayed inside, they might be burned. They vacillated, and one ordered the troops to mass at the entrance to form a guard so the officers could leave.
Faced with multiple officers shouting conflicting orders, the troops took the easy way out, and ran for the exit.
The officers, assuming the troops were about to protect them, followed more slowly, but as soon as the troops had left, the appearance of officers brought a volley of arrows to these leaders, and most of them were pierced one way or another. A few shots were immediately fatal.
The troops were about to come back to rescue their officers, then realised that other tents were also burning. They abandoned the officers and ran to retrieve what they could from the burning tents, and rescue their fellow soldiers from the flames.
Practically every officer was injured, some shortly to be fatal, and as one with an arrow in his leg looked around hurriedly, he spotted vague figures of archers near the forest. As he stared at the dark apparition, the mystery archers faded back into the trees and vanished.
He screamed at the nearest soldier, “Go after them!” and the man stared at him in surprise.
“Go after who, sir?”
“These archers; the ones who are attacking us!”
The man looked around frantically, but saw nothing. “Where, sir?”
The officer had lost track of the direction of where exactly the archers had been seen by him, with the darkness being emphasised by the burning tents, and so swung his arm to point in the general direction where he had seen them.
“Somewhere over there. Get some men and check it out.”
The man looked down at a dying NCO with an arrow still in him, and answered the officer, “Sir, my team leader is dead, I think. He is in charge of the arms. I can’t get them myself. It is orders, sir.”
The injured officer cursed impotently.
“Find another leader to issue arms to the men, and get after these archers before they get away.”
“Yes, sir!” The soldier headed back to another burning tent, to ask the nearest team leader to issue arms.
“Sir,” he asked urgently, “An officer has told me that you should issue arms so that we can chase after the archers.”
“Archers? Where are they?” the man demanded.
“The officer was not clear, sir. Somewhere over there, he thought.” He gestured wildly. “He said we were to go after them.”
“What with, you idiot; our bare hands? The weapons are all in that burning tent, stored neatly and centrally as the officers ordered. Do you want to volunteer to go in and collect them?”
“I would rather not, sir.”
“I thought not; well, neither would I. Do you propose to go chasing after enemy soldiers while unarmed, man?”
“That would not be safe, sir, I would suggest.”
“Then we can’t do it, can we? Go back to the officer and tell him our spears are burning as we speak, so chasing after the enemy with bare hands is not advised.”
“Can I quote you on that, sir?”
“Yes, for it is true. Why do so many people imagine things happen just because you issue an order? This army needs to look at reality for a change, but don’t quote me on that, soldier.”
“Yes, sir. I will report back that no arms are available, due to fire damage.”
“You do that, son. I have enough to cope with here.”
The soldier went back to the officer who had the arrow in his leg, and passed on this negative information. The officer scowled at the news.
“Damn fools to store all the weapons together! Well, help me get this arrow out of my leg. As the soldier went to grab the feathered end, the officer screamed at him, “Think, you bloody fool! The point is through, so break off the point before you pull the arrow back. Did nobody teach you how to remove arrows?”
“No sir. That was not in my training.”
“Bloody hell. Does no-one in this army do things right? How did we get this far with such stupidity?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir,” admitted the soldier timidly. He didn’t think that the common soldier was the stupid part of the army, but wisely kept that opinion to himself.
...
Inside the forest, everyone had been accounted for, and Tempo had collected all the fire pots for re-use. Numa now led the team back, with Tempo and John making up the rearguard, just in case enemy soldiers were coming after them. Maintaining silence, they marched through the forest, happy with their escapade, made without injury.
At last they were back at the trail, and beside the clearing where they had waited, and the warriors resorted to whispers to discuss their feelings. John asked Numa if they had left anything here that could tell of their presence, apart from some unidentifiable shit and pee.
“I don’t think so. Hang on.” She called out, “Is anyone missing any item before we leave here?”
There was a hush of the whispering among them, until one hesitant voice said, “I broke a feathering from one of my arrows; it is probably still on the ground.”
Numa voiced her opinion, “One feather looks like any other feather, so I think we can ignore it, as long as you kept the arrow.”
“Yes, Chief. I still have it here with me.”
“Keep it safe until we are home, and we will get it repaired. Anything else, anyone?”
There was nothing, so Numa declared, “All evidence of our presence is gone, John.”
“Good work, my warriors. The moon is visible enough that we can travel this trail during the night, so let’s get on our way. I want us to be well clear of this event by morning, so we are not associated with the attack. It must have been ghosts, you see!”
There were a few chuckles and John added, “If we meet anyone, we are out on a night training march, to give you practice at moving during darkness.”
This met with unseen smiles, and the cheerful band set out again, with John resuming his lead position.
Despite walking slowly and treading carefully, they made good time through the night, and a few hours later were passing the outer edge of the High Tree tribe, where they resumed their silent passage. A dog in the village started barking, but they were far enough away for it not to matter, and by morning they were much further along the trail, tired but pleased at their unimpeded progress.
John watched for a clearing off to one side, and eventually spotted one that would do. He led the party off to this clearing and announced, “This will do for a sleep break. You all deserve a chance to rest. We still mount a guard, so Tempo will take the first stint, and I will take the second, and Numa the third. Someone who is not sleeping well will get the final guard duty, for that will be enough to let us get further on.”
By early afternoon they all had had enough sleep to get by on, and they resumed their trek. When they reached the bamboo forest, Numa asked to pay a visit there.
“I want us to be seen as returning from our training practice. We can say we saw and heard nothing particularly interesting, and that we had stayed clear of any Invader presence in the area.”
“Good planning, Chief Numa,” said John. “We are a bunch of innocents on our way home, so none of you is to act as if you had done anything interesting or important. You are a bunch of bored trainee warriors, fed up with walking and training, got it?”
“Spoilsport!” said one of the ladies, “But you are right, Chief. We will act bored as hell, and stiff and sore with so much walking. That last part is true!”
They did the detour to the bamboo tribe, the Jacarandas. None of the folk they met at the entrance had seen them before, so they introduced themselves as a team of trainee warriors on a training expedition led by Chief John.
John told them, “We thought we should pay you a courtesy visit as we are passing through your territory. We have females wanting to be warriors, so we are letting them see what life as a warrior is like. It is tougher than they expected!”
One of the warriors in earshot opined, “Damn so it is tough. I am sore and weary with all this walking the trails. I expected a bit more hunting of animals for practice, but Chief John says if we hunt we are expected to carry our kills home. We are too far from home to even think of that extra burden.”
John added, “Consider yourselves lucky that you didn’t have to fight warriors from other tribes.”
The lady answered, “I don’t mind that, Chief. I want to see what we can do with all this training. From what I have heard, the Invader army doesn’t get this much training.”
The locals stared at her when she said this, and one remarked, “How would you know about the training of invader soldiers?”
John quickly intervened, “My fault. I was talking with a deserter I met, and he told me how little training they got. Perhaps I should not have spread this information around. I am sure the army don’t want locals to know this about them, or they would be more willing to resist the army.”
John shrugged as if this was of no consequence, and added, “We live far enough away that it doesn’t matter to us.”
The locals who were listening took it all in, and pondered what it might mean for them as a tribe dealing with the army of occupation.
Numa intervened, “It is perhaps just as well we have stayed well away from the army, as you ladies might find your assumptions are wrong, and that the soldiers are to be feared.”
John laughed, “That’s true. It will be a long time before you girls are able to stand up to male soldiers and hold your own with them. First you have to learn to deal with route marches carrying weapons and tools. It is just as well we have a man to carry all your spares and food supplies in a travois. It is a dragging carrier, and it is useful to have, but it means you warriors don’t have quick access to weapons unless they are personally willing to carry them.”
“Come on, John. It is time we were on our way again.” said Numa.
John told the onlookers, “There speaks my wife; marriage is not all it is cracked up to be!”
Amid a gale of amused laughter, the visitors returned to the trail and went on their way. Once they were out of sight and hearing distance, John said to Numa, “I think that went well. We gave them the prepared story pretty effectively.”
“I thought so too. We must try it again at another tribe, but not when we get to the fisher village: they know us too well.”
They were well on their way to the next tribe when they were overtaken by a runner. The man stopped for a breather, and told them, “The north army made a strike on the south army! The word is that they hit a regional headquarters camp, and caused devastation. The attackers didn’t even wait to mop up. It was as if they were on a hit and run mission, local experts say.”
John, as spokesman, asked, “What made these people ‘experts’? Do they know more than you or me? I always take those stories with a bit of caution. Most such stories are blown up from something smaller. I bet it was one bunch of the army hitting another bunch, just to show they were superior; like a bully trying it on.”
“No, no. The army sent men to the local camps to ask if they had seen a large fighting force in the area. Of course everyone said no, for it was true.”
“Large? You mean the size of my training unit of tribal warriors here?”
The messenger laughed heartily at the idea.
“No, not a bunch of trainees. These were professional soldiers, attacking out of the dark. They apparently had spies out beforehand, as they knew where the leaders were meeting, and targeted them. Your ragtag bunch wouldn’t stand a chance if you met them, and now that I notice it, most of your so-called warriors are women!”
“Oh, dear,” declared John. “You think we had better get out of the way, in case we might meet them?”
“Most definitely! And the sooner the better.”
“Right. I’ll ask my wife if she doesn’t mind speeding up.”
“You have to ask your wife? Good grief, it is indeed time you got a move on and got home to your tribe, so that they can protect you.”
“Numa? This man says we are not safe, for there is a mob of marauders in the area. Do you mind if we get back on the track and head home as soon as possible?”
Numa had been listening to the conversation, and replied, “If what he says is correct, we should be on our way at once, husband. I’ll get our warriors ready to move.”
The messenger left to go ahead of them, and they followed after him, John and Numa chuckling to themselves. The others wondered what was up, but were told by Numa, “We’ll let you know later. We have to make some progress for now.”
By the time they reached the next tribe, the locals were excited, and got scared when John and his warriors appeared. John assured them, “No, we are just a training group on our way past you. If we hear anything important, we’ll let you know.”
On they went, to find the story of the professional attack had gone before them. The team, now briefed, were delighted to hear their prowess expanded into a major attack by the northern army. John and Numa had to again warn them not to give any indication of what they had done.
“Ghosts, remember?”
Their laughter was enough to be sure that they had the idea, and they walked on with jaunty steps, their tiredness forgotten.
Finally they arrived at the fisher village at nightfall, and asked to sleep here overnight. John was asked by the headman how their training venture had gone, and he answered, “Excellent. It was a bit scary at times, as I was not sure where their arrows would go, but they are much better now, and I think they will manage to avoid me!”
“You were gone a considerable time. Did you have to so far to do your weapons practising?”
“No. The distance we went was to teach them that warriors need endurance training as well as proficiency with the weapons. They now realise that real warriors have to be able to fight when tired and hungry; not just outside the camp.”
“Very wise, Chief. These women in particular would need to learn that.”
“Not quite, my dear sir. They, like your own women, regularly have to walk distances to collect food, so they already know this much. It is the excess distances, at speed, that a warrior has to travel and be able to fight at the end of it; that is what matters. True warriors have to be able to fight anywhere, at any time, tired, sore, in any kind of weather, in daylight or darkness.
The overall impact is considerable, so fitness is vital. This expedition has shown our warriors how important it is to be ready at a moment’s notice. I am pleased at what they have learned by our little jaunt around the countryside.”
“Impressive. Is this going to be a continuing training program, to be used with future trainees?”
“Most likely. Some of our volunteers had to stay behind and protect the tribe from passing scoundrels, so they will probably want to be included next time, once we have enough to mount a similar expedition.”
“I am interested. Could we include some of our own hunters that want to be trained as warriors?”
“If you feel that warriors are needed by your tribe, then feel free to ask for them to join our next expedition. They will each need good quality spears, bow and arrows, so make sure they are provided for in that way.”
“We have an effective technique of setting out to sea, but that might not always work, if for example we are attacked at night by land. It would be worth training some warriors to be able to protect the tribe while we prepared to sail.”
“A good point. Very well, when we are preparing another trainee course, we will invite you to send your own men or women to take part. Many of this batch are women, you may have noticed. I can tell you they have performed as well as the men.”
“Surprising, but I believe you, Chief. We have enough knowledge of you to trust your word.”
Doubling up again, the warriors occupied two huts made available to them. After the inevitable fish stew, they retired for a good sleep.
In the morning, while offering their hosts thanks for their hospitality, John was offered a tour for his wife and the other warriors; a tour of the village and its beach, which was littered with a scatter of drawn-up fishing boats. Many of the huts showed signs of recent repairs after the depredations of the pirates. The occupants were happy to show Numa and her associates how their huts were laid out inside. This was an interesting comparison to the communal use of the cave occupied by John’s tribe. It was noticeable that there was a smell of fish everywhere, even inside the huts. It was a side-effect of being a fisher village. Another aspect of interest was how they baited their long fishing lines. These were of an immense length, with a huge number of smallish hooks made from large thorns. The thorns were carved to provide a barb to stop the fish slipping off the hook. Much larger hooks were carved from a wood that looked like bamboo.
Catches of crabs and lobsters were kept alive in large storage jars, but only for a few days, so there were a series of jars for this, marked in sequence: I, II, III, IIII, to differentiate them.
Numa was shown an example of a storage jar which used evaporation to keep dead fish cool, delaying decay. She asked for one to be filled and tied on to the travois, as a test for the journey home. She was offered a jar of live shellfish, but declined as she could not see how the water would last the journey, so the crabs and lobsters would not survive the trip. No-one had as yet thought of a closed vessel for such transportation, probably through concern over leakages.
They were about to set off when there was a shout from the shore, as an unfamiliar fishing boat was heading into their bay.
John asked his team to wait in case there was anything that might require their help. The fishing boat sailed to the shore and dropped its sail to allow forward momentum to take it into the beach at a slow pace.
A few local fishermen waded out to grasp the transom and ease the boat on to the sloping sand. There was a heated discussion between the locals and the newcomers, but it did not appear to be an angry exchange; more information being passed on.
John waited, wondering what was going on.
One of the fishermen called for Fresno, who was standing with his two wives watching the scene. He walked down to join them, and was brought up to date. He was seen thanking the visitors for their information, then ask them to stay a little more. He turned round, and his eyes found John.
“High Chief! Can you come and hear this?”
Interested, John walked quickly over to the position of the boat, and asked, “What is it, Fresno?”
“Some most peculiar news. It appears that the Invader army is pulling back from this part of the country; but there is no information as to why it is happening.”
“How do they know?” John was suspicious at this sudden input of data.
“Their village had a couple of soldiers billeted on them. A messenger came, and the soldiers left, saying they had been ordered to move south.”
“No reason given?”
“No, but according to these fishers, it looked as if the messenger was frightened somewhat; he was very nervous and anxious to get away again. It was if he didn’t want to be there.”
John remarked, “If they really are pulling back, he wouldn’t want to be left behind. The natives might take out their frustration on him.”
“Frustration? How do you mean?” asked Fresno.
“From what the tribes we visited were saying, the army was stealing much of their food supplies for their soldiers to eat. They won’t see any payment for it either, if the army are retiring from the field.”
“Oh, I see. If that had happened to us, we would be most unhappy. It takes a great amount of effort to fish for what we bring home. Not every baited hook brings in the fish we want – some are inedible species with a bad taste, and some baits fall off or are left untouched. The threat from the pirates was bad enough, but stealing our hard-won fish would be the limit.”
John offered, “I have some idea of what has scared them. We were passed by a messenger who was telling the tribes that something bad had happened to the army leaders, and the army was in a panic.
This must be another effect from the event that befell their leaders.”
Fresno asked, slyly, “You have no idea what happened to the leaders?” There was a smile on his face.
John tried to look astonished.
“Me? Why would I know anything about that? We were on a warrior training expedition, mostly teaching women the bad aspects of becoming a warrior. That right, Numa?”
“That’s it, John. My ladies really appreciated a chance to sleep last night, Fresno. John had them sometimes travelling at night as well as by day, the poor souls. They were exhausted. So was I.”
Fresno gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“Hmmph. If it was just you, John, I would have other ideas, but a troupe of trainees, mostly women, is not what I would use to attack an entire army!”
Numa gave a delighted laugh. “The idea is ludicrous but delicious all the same, Fresno. Mind you, on his own, John would be quite ferocious!”
She turned to John, and tapped him smartly on the arm. “Home, John!”
“Sorry, Fresno; have to be off. Warriors, fall in for the last leg towards home.”
As they marched down the forest trail, John invited Numa to walk with him for a little while. He whispered to her, “Numa, tell the team that they do NOT talk about their exploits when they get home.”
“Whyever not, John? They have something to be proud of, as warriors.”
“I know, but too much telling of the story, and it will spread further and further. It will become a burden to us, especially if word gets back to the invader army that they were bested by women. They might send a major force to wipe us out, in retaliation. If they don’t know who hit them, we should keep it that way.”
Numa was silent as she absorbed this, and slowly saw the argument.
“Very well. I will speak to them at our first break this morning, and explain the need.”
“Good. Tell them I am very proud of them, and eventually the story can be told; but just not now.”
At the first rest break, Numa waited until everyone had done their business, then broke the news to them. Waiting until the complaints died down, she said, “Let me explain why, then you will see the why of it.”
She went over the points that John had made to her, and said that this made a great deal of sense. They did not want to be either sought out for a revenge attack, nor did they want to be seen as the leading lights of a new army: they had other targets for their lives.
Seeing heads nodding in agreement, she ended, “John wants me to tell you how proud he is of your actions. Our action was even better than he expected, so a big pat on the back for all of you. Now, if there are no more questions, let us get back on the trail. I want to get back to my tribe!”
Numa dropped back to the tail end of the column several times over the next few hours, to feel the outside of the jar of fish. She found the outside remained cool throughout, despite the warming of the air around them as the sun got higher. There were few clouds today, so this was an important test of the cooling device.
They were near their home when they heard shouts from ahead of them. John immediately halted the team and said, “I’ll scout ahead and see what is happening. Be prepared to come fast if I call “Warriors!”
He trotted onwards, keeping a close eye on all around him as he went. As he got near the clearing he found himself behind a group of men who were agitated. He listened to what they were saying to each other.
“Who are these warriors at the cave? I thought a small tribe would be easy, but they won’t listen to us. They say they are waiting for orders from their Chief, to attack us. To attack us? To attack US? I have never heard anything like it.”
His companion responded, “Even worse: from their smaller size, I would guess that most of them are women. Whoever heard of women being warriors? It confuses the hell out of me. Do you think they are able to fight, as well as taunt us?”
“Well, they managed to kill our leader with a spear, so they are not afraid to fight us. Who do they think we are: a bunch of nobodies?”
John gently stabbed the nearest man in the back, more to get his attention than to hurt him. The man whirled as John asked mildly, “Who are you, then? Just so we know who we are killing.”
The man recoiled, and his companion took a step backward. The questioned man gulped and said, “We are a scouting group from the army of the south. You tangle with us at your peril, man.”
John smiled evilly. “Oh, is that all? Don’t you know that the main army is retreating after an attack on the headquarters?”
“Don’t be daft. There is no-one to oppose us; we could see that as we came through this district.”
“Not exactly. No-one opposed you, as there was no need. You are not dangerous, you see, unlike some of the tribes around here. Let me show you.”
John raised his voice and called, “Warriors!”
As the two men facing him whirled to look around them, nothing seemed to happen, and they relaxed. “You can’t fool us, man; there is no-one there!”
As he spoke there was a rustling among the trees and a handful of spears were pointing at them from behind John.
“You were saying?” he enquired. The man had no answer, and John indicated that the pair should drop their weapons. They did so, then were startled when from behind the spears came five women.
John gave them something to learn: “Not every spear needs to have a man brandishing it. Our tribe has taken this to heart. Forward into the clearing, gentlemen.”
As they stepped out, they found themselves behind their fellow soldiers who were demanding that the tribe surrender.
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