Nowhere Man, Book One. - Cover

Nowhere Man, Book One.

Copyright© 2018 by Gordon Johnson

Chapter 47

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 47 - 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  

Brando turned to face John, and said, “It looks to me that your warriors are ready for a raid. If the rest of our archers are as good as the two who took part in that demonstration, you should have a fair-sized effective force to attack with, John.”

John asked him, “How many archers do you have who are as good as the two you brought with you?”

“Most of them, I think. That would be about two times two hands.”

“Really? About twenty archers of this standard?”

“I would say so.”

“And if we have about thirty here – three times two hands – that means we can have fifty – five times two hands of arrows arriving in one volley, one shot from everyone at the same time. That can be devastating, particularly if our warriors can repeat that over and over in a short period of time, say a hand of arrows each. That means a hellova large number of arrows, and remember we can’t go to get them back afterwards; they are one-off shots. Can we afford to lose that many arrows, Brando? How many can your team make for us? The number that I talked about is five hands times two hands: two hundred and fifty in my language.”

“Let me think. What we brought today is two hands – ten – bundles per ‘cart’, with a hand of arrows in each bundle, so that’s enough for one arrow per warrior so a hand of loaded carts should be enough. If we allowed for an extra cart of arrows, in case the warriors have to use their bows again on the way back, we need one extra cartload. My team are great workers, making a cartload per day at the moment, and we have three cartloads done, including the two we brought today; so we just need three days to make the rest, assuming you have none here.”

“We do have some arrows, but our close defence warriors – that mostly means mothers with children - will need to have those handy in case the tribe gets attacked while we are gone. Mothers can be ferocious in protecting their children, so I am confident of their ability to defend in that kind of action. I can plan on a timescale of leaving in three days, for I have to get the fisher community to arrange to transport the fifty warriors there and back, and have our warriors prepared for the trip. I hope that not many get seasick during the voyage.”

“What is seasick, John?”

“You have clearly never been on a boat, Brando. The movement of the boat on the sea upsets the stomachs of some people, and they end up vomiting up whatever is in their stomach. Most people get used to it, but the first time can be a terrible strain. A few get seasick every time they step on a boat.”

“Sounds horrible. I don’t think I’ll mention the possibility to our warriors.”

“Anyway, Brando, if you can expedite the arrow-making that gives us three days to organise our warriors and train them in the tactics I propose to use. From what I learned from my scout’s report, it should not be a very long trek to the camp we aim to attack, so we don’t need to carry food supplies. Water we can find as we go, so no drink to be carried either. We must use your arrow carts as ammunition carriers till we get there and can distribute the arrows among our archers. Do you need us to bring the carts back?”

“Not so much ‘need’, John, but we don’t want tom leave evidence of how we convey our supplies, or the invader will simply copy us in future. Wouldn’t it be better to leave them wondering?”

John slapped his forehead in annoyance at himself. “Dammit, that is what I should have said! That was the idea I fostered last time: nothing to indicate who we were or how we did it.”

“At least we are thinking along the same lines, John. What happens when you get ashore? Will it be at night or daytime?”

“Best time is twilight in the evening or dawn in the morning, when no-one ashore is fully awake. I am hoping we won’t meet anyone on the trail to the camp, as we may have to kill them to keep the whole attack secret.”

“In that case, twilight should be a better time, as no-one else should be traversing the forest at night; but how will you see where you are going?”

“I will lead, using a special lamp to provide light at a low level.” He stopped, as something struck him. “No, dammit. We should get Corvo to lead, as he has already been there and know the trail we should take.”

He resumed his attack planning, “If we go in single file, every so often a warrior can carry a small oil lamp for light for those around him or her. The lights will be shaded by a warrior’s hands as we get near the attack position. The camp should have one or more fires burning through the night, for the benefit of the guards on duty. That routine is actually daft, as the fires will mean their eyesight is not attuned to the darkness, and so they won’t spot our little lamps in the surrounding forest. If they do, they will look like fireflies in the night as the lights pass between trees”

“I get you. You think they WILL be using a campfire?”

“I do. My experience with that army is that they are not very well trained, and so no-one has probably thought about night vision for guards at night. They probably view campfires as focal points for all the guards to get together and change shifts; they would have trouble doing that in complete darkness.”

“How big is this camp, anyway?” Brando wanted to know.

“Nothing specific, as my scout was not in a position to do a roll call, but he thought in terms of a couple of tribes’ population. You know how indefinite and unclear that is, so all we can say is ‘a lot’. I have no intention however of offering a pitched battle. This is a raid; so we make our attack from the fringes of the forest, and as soon as we have shot all our arrows, we fade back into the trees and head back to the beach. The critical moment is meeting our boats at the beach then getting aboard and away before the hornets nest at the camp erupts and they come searching for us. They will naturally go for the established trails through the forest, just like we do, so we can’t afford to dawdle. That is why I am happy we don’t have to carry food and drink. All we will have to carry is our bows, but we have the carts, so we can shove most of the bows into the carts on the way back. That should allow us to move faster, if we don’t have the ends of bows sticking out to the side to be caught by trees and bushes.

One choke point is at the beginning of the raid, when we arrive at the camp end of the trail, and we have to spread out to both sides. With fifty archers, that will take some time to do it quietly. Spreading out fifty people in a line is not that easy to do. That is why I am hoping for campfires, as that will allow us to see what we are doing, without the guards seeing us at all. After the attack, all they need do is turn to the side and follow the others back to the trail.”

“How do you coordinate the attack, so that you all fire your arrows together?”

“We will need a timed warning to be passed along. I think a finger count as we shuffle quickly to the sides, so that as we get to the end of the count, the last person on each side will be counting with everyone else: One and Two and Three and ... until you get to ten, at which point you fire into the camp. Everyone should arrive at Ten together, with a bit of luck. We can test this idea in the trees here, to check that Ten is enough time, If it is not, we can have them do it twice, and the second Ten is the firing command. Minor variations in the timing won’t matter much, in sending a shower of arrows.

Oh, I didn’t mention: Like our last attack, the first flight of arrows will be fire arrows, sending flames into the camp tents. My scout told me they were housed in tents; most tents burn fairly readily. The other four arrows are for aiming at harming the enemy warriors and scaring them from chasing after us in case we shower them with more arrows. We will light our fire pots when we get to the attack site and distribute them to the archers. Our fire pots merely smoulder at first, thus not giving out much light. It is when the fire arrow is lit from the pot that the flames start. A few of the fire arrows go out while in flight, but then burst into flame again once they have landed, we found. It took us time to devise a fire bunch that we could tie onto an arrow and would first light easily and secondly hold its fire to the target. The ones that blow out in flight are usually still burning inside at the arrow. I was pleased at how effective they were.”

Brando started, “That sounds like proper military planning, if you ask me as a non-soldier, John. Are you really starting a war?”

John reacted sharply.

“NO. I am trying to finish a war before it starts; at least in this area of the world. There is a big difference, particularly when it comes to injuries and deaths.”

“Oh, sorry, John. I didn’t mean to upset you. It was just an observation from an outsider that doesn’t know much about fighting.”

John settled down again.

“I am sorry too, Brando. I over-reacted. I should have explained my intentions better.”

Brando took the opportunity to ask a question that was on his mind.

“If you are trying to stop a war, why will you want hundreds of arrows raining down on the invader camp? Surely many men will be injured, or might die as a result?”

John took the time to choose his words carefully.

“It is a scaled-up version of a fist fight between two young men. If you want to prevent a lot of damaged to both of you, the trick is a pre-emptive strike; to get in first with a series of strong blows that hurt the guy, so that he will be stopped before he starts. If his nose is bleeding and he can hardly see from swollen eyebrows, he is not going to think he can win. He is most likely to give in at that point and stop the fight there and then, or just run away.

Take that to the level of armies. If an army finds itself being hit, first by an attack on officer country, then being defeated in a major camp by an attack out of nowhere, what is he going to think; especially as he sees no sign of any injuries or death among the attackers? His side is being hurt and the opposition are like ghosts, but ghosts with sharp claws. If you were them, would you want to proceed with your own advance, with that sort of warning?”

Brando was pensive for a while before admitting, “I would be scared shitless at such happenings!”

“That’s what I am aiming for,” said John. “That punch on the nose that makes you stop and reconsider your aggressive tendencies.”

Brando pointed out, “As long as you don’t allow our own warriors to come to harm. Chief Maranga would have your balls for that!”

John insisted, “Everything I do is based on making it happen like that, Brando. Part of it is instilling their training. The army that I used to be part of worked on automatic reactions, so if the officer said ‘charge!’, no-one would think about the order, just do it. We improved that over the years, so that a small unit could be trained and put in the field, then act independently as a unit, so that each soldier would act correctly without having to be ordered. He would know when to advance, when to retreat, when to simply wait and observe, with simply a quick briefing from their leader.

Sometimes a single soldier made a big difference in a battle. I recall that one man, injured and on his own, continued to fire on the advancing enemy with a large gun – think of a giant arrow-firing machine – until he ran out of ammunition. By that time, his support team had arrived to help him and the enemy ran away. The battle was won due to the bravery of one man who told himself to stay at his post and keep firing. I can tell you that the gun normally required two men to load and fire it; he did it all on his own. He got a medal for his actions: a sort of special acknowledgement from his country – a group of tribes. That was a case of a man obeying his trained instructions beyond what was expected of him.

I don’t look for a such a response. I simply want my warriors to act as a team, following my instructions; leaving when I say ‘leave’ and not trying to act bravely when we want to fade away like ghosts.”

“I take your meaning: act swiftly when following orders, but also don’t act brave on your own when that would be stupid and detrimental to everyone, not just you.”

“That’s it. If we can do that, we win the battle for the minds of the enemy. We managed it last time with a my smaller team of warriors, but this time we have to do much the same with a vastly greater number of warriors: Get them to act as one. If you can ingrain into your Farfarer warriors that following orders is the way to preserve the lives of them and their fellow warriors, that will be extremely helpful.”

“I can pass that on, John, now that I know why it must be so.”

“Now, before we get on with building a house, can you send one of your warriors back to tell the others that they should come here tomorrow and learn how to integrate with our warriors to become a single attack force?”

Brando went up the slope to the cave to speak to his tribe’s warrior representatives and arrange for that message to be taken back. John went with him, to have a look at the wall panels that had been removed from the store room, and decide on what was best for which walls. One would be higher, and two walls would be cut on a slope from the higher to the lower, and another panel had to be shaped to become a sloping roof. John wondered if Brando would come up with plans for a gutter for the lower end of the roof.

He asked for volunteers to share the job of carrying these panels, one at a time, down to the house site where he would cut them to size. Vickie had thoughtfully prepared a powered sabre saw with a battery, ready for John to carry down to the house site. He was surprised to find that several poles were already prepared for the corner supports.

“How do these poles happen to be ready, Vickie?”

“One of the Farfarers warriors told us that Brando wanted them, and we found some trees about the right size and prepared them. It took very little time with plenty of volunteers and power saw to cut them down and trim the trunks. If his plan works out, we will need four for the corners, and possibly others for the uprights at the doorway. I asked Numa to order more to be prepared for more houses later, but we don’t yet have more panels out of the store for those houses. We waited until you and Brando sorted yourselves out.”

“Good. Now, Vickie, my lovely wife, can you tell Numa that I have to make a trip to the fisher village, to ask them if they will transport fifty warriors down the coast where we need to make another night attack?”

“Me tell her? Oh, I see; it is yet another trip to that fishing village. Back in our own time, I would be suspecting you of having a girlfriend there, but you currently have enough pussy at home to satisfy any virile man.”

“Am I not loving you enough, my darling Vickie? Feel you are not getting your share?”

“No, you do your best to make every one of your wives happy. I am astonished that I can manage without wanting to fuck you every single night; you are now so good at it, John.”

“Thanks, Vickie. You and the other girls have taught me a lot about making you ... satisfied.”

“Yes. You know, my lovely man, when I first arrived in this God-forsaken place, I was shocked to the core; even worse when I found that you already had more than one wife. Now, I feel at home here, me and you and your pack of other wives. Astonishingly, I am happy!”

“Glad to hear that, Vickie. I was a little worried about how you would feel about all these babies I have on the way.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me. You and I have our own little one developing in my tummy; our first ... and while it won’t be YOUR first child – Numa will be first to drop one, I am sure – I am looking forward to being mummy to our baby.”

“And Jean? What do you think she will do now?”

“I think she has seen what all the practicalities are, and she will settle for a life with you and us, John. She has been slowly veering that way, for she is intellectually clever, and with no return home, she has accepted the inevitable of a life here, making the best of what is available. I do think you should get her to become the start of our local police force, for someone inevitably is going to commit what we would view as a crime; in our tribe or some other local tribe. It would be good if we could offer a police investigation to establish the truth of a crime, and not leave the locals to guess at the culprit. Far too many innocent people in the past have suffered from that kind of mob justice.”

“A valid argument, pet. I will ask her if she would be willing to take that on. She probably will want to form a team, so that she can have a local person in each tribe to collect the basic facts before an investigation begins.”

“Yes, I would expect she would, for it would be awkward if two crimes happened in two tribes around the same time; damn difficult to investigate without local assistance.”

John had forgotten that Vickie’s language could be crude when she wanted to be emphatic.

“I’ll talk it over with her. I know she was worried that she was not equipped for any of the jobs that are needed by our tribes.”

Vickie’ thoughts turned slightly.

“Has she shown any inclination to become a warrior when you have spoken with her?”

“She turned up her nose the only time I mentioned the idea. I think she was viewing it as being a soldier, possibly thinking in medieval terms of hacking and smashing at your enemy. That is nothing like what our warriors do. In fact, mostly our warriors do training and gesturing when needed. The only time they actually fight has been firing showers of arrows at night, then vanishing. That is the sort of warfare I prefer.”

“Right, love. I had better get to work with Brando on this house. I’ll leave you to do what you have to do.”

John waited until he and Brando had the first home’s poles and walls installed and supported, then he left Brando to have a squad help him get the roof panel up and fixed into position. He told John that a larger house would need many more panels for the longer walls and at least two panels for the roof with a strip of thin wood glued on to cover the joint between roof panels.

John noted what Brando was telling him about a larger house, then explained it was time for himself to go to the fisher tribe. Brando waved him off, saying, “I can cope, John. I am not just a good-looking man; I am competent too!”

Eventually John got to the fisher village and was made welcome. There he explained his need for transportation down the coast a considerable distance, to the bay where they had taken Corvo, and their smiles broadened.

“We did some fishing when we took Corvo there, and the catch was very good. There were some large shoals of good varieties of fish, so we have been back a couple times since then. Yes, we can do that for you. How many warriors are you taking with you?”

“Five hands times two hands. Too many?”

“Nah, we can spread them over a number of boats.” The Headman added, “I expect you want us to wait for you to return when you finish your attack? We can do some fishing while we wait for you. We can take hide buckets of mussels in seawater with us. By the time we bait our lines and have them in the water for enough time to tempt the fish, and then pull them in and get the catch gutted and into the hold, it might be getting near morning. Will you be back by then?”

John smiled. “Yes; that timing sounds great. But I have another request. Once you take us back on board and depart the bay, can you leave one boat there for a few hours, pretending to fish? I am expecting that the invaders will appear at the shore line looking for us. Your fishermen should communicate with them by shouting from the boat when they ask anything– don’t EVER think of landing near them! Tell them that a number of long low boats, each with a sail and oars, arrived and collected many people from the shore. The long boats then went off to the north at speed. Your fishermen should say they had never before seen anything like these boats, or the people they collected, and had no idea what was going on.

Then your boat leaves and goes back home, with no more discussion, no matter what the invaders promise. Pretend that your boat has to get the fish back before some sort of deadline. The invaders are not to be trusted in the slightest,” John advised.

“I get your warning, High Chief. These invaders might try to capture our men, just like those pirates did to small tribes: horrible! We can’t allow that to happen, and we won’t.”

“Great! As to timing, we aim to be at the bay by dusk, three days from now. Can we arrive here during the day? You will know when the boats need to leave here with us on board, to get there at the right time.”

“That timing we can fit in with, and we will ask Corvo to guide you by leading the way. Beforehand we need to gather mussels for bait for our lines, then it takes a long time to fix the bait on the hooks. Our hooks are carved from antler horn, so that limits how many hooks on each line.”

John reacted, “I think I know where I can lay hands on more hooks. They might not be the right size, but if I can find some, I’ll bring them with me and you can try them out.” He was furiously thinking, ‘did I see any hooks in the store room? Surely there must have been hooks, for that is a basic need for catching fish? Possibly packets in a drawer?’ He put that on his mental ‘to do’ list.

Despite an offer of overnight accommodation by the Headman, John insisted that he was expected home, and left as soon as he could reasonable do so.

By hurrying he was back at the cave before the end of the day, almost surprised by seeing a completed house at the top of the slope. It appeared that Brando had gone off home, promising to return to supervise more construction.

John’s ladies made him very welcome, and Numa told him which were to have his attention that night.

“I am doing without, for tonight, my husband, so do your best for these needy females. One is not even pregnant, it seems, so you must be slipping up in your pussy plugging!”

John pretended to sigh, “Work, work, work ... a man seldom gets time to rest, these days.”

“Well, if you make these girls happy, you can consider it work well done, John.”

“Before I do that, my love, we have fixed with the fisher village for transport in three days. We arrive during the day at the village, then board the fishing boats for a long trip down to the bay where Corvo landed to visit the invader camp. He should be there to act as guide on the way through the forest and back.”

Numa nodded. “I suppose that means we prepare all the warriors from both tribes to act as a single unit when firing their arrows. You don’t need a specific distance this time?”

“No. I will be content with a wide spread over the target. The variations should cause panic throughout the camp, for the wide-spread impact will make them think a large force is attacking and will cower down. Well, it IS a larger force than last time. Arrows arriving through darkness without warning can be very intimidating, for that bunch are not trained to come out fighting as we were – I mean back in my own time,” he grinned at her.

Numa looked him in the eye. “Do you miss it?”

John knew what she meant, and ceased grinning. “No, not once I had you for my wife; that made the difference. I was confused as to why I fell for you that first day, when you were expecting those murdering villains to attack you and Noma next. Once I had rescued you girls, the follow-on simply happened, apparently because of tribal traditions, and I just inherited you through that, but it was soon much more. I was drawn to you, and happy to have you as my wife. Instead of being attacked, you found yourself attached to this weird man from some future time.”

“Not weird,” Numa rebuked him. “Just unusual, or should I say unique? You are certainly a one-off. And now you are an important man in our society, with many wives to prove it.”

John gave her a brief frown. “Having many wives is not an indicator of social standing, my love. It is more a measure of the luck I have had, finding so many girls that wanted to be part of my life. I still find that unbelievable in some way, even though I know a lot is down to these invisible nanomites inside me.”

“My darling, it doesn’t matter if you have such things assisting you or not. As a man, as a person, as a lover, you are special to me and the others. That is what matters. Back in your own time, Vickie would have been your first wife, wouldn’t she?”

“Back in my own time, Vickie would have ended up being my ONLY wife, Numa, for that was the law – the enforced tradition – and I would probably have been happy with her, back then. I am happy with her, here as well; and Sheila, and all the others. I am a happy man altogether, Numa.”

Numa’s face took on a querulous look, as she asked, “Was Sheila really once a nasty person as Vickie told us?”

“Apparently so; I had no experience of her that I know of, but something changed when she got here; something that changed her.”

“Was it your nanomites?”

“Not really. The nanomites don’t change a woman’s personality, just their emotional attachment to me. Sheila changed by herself, amazingly. Or perhaps she never was the nasty woman that she portrayed, underneath that exterior. It must be that she used that persona to frighten other women while she herself was inwardly scared of competing with them. Here, she is not competing for my attention. No-one is. The girls are all happy to share in my love, together, and that is what it is: love. These nanomites affected me as well, making me susceptible to loving them back. I now regard that situation as normal: I love you all.”

Numa had a new thought. “Your nanomites can’t be the sole reason for what happened. The three surviving daughters of Chief Mongo all have decided they want to marry you, haven’t they? You have not been close enough to them for them to be affected in your usual way. You are the man who saved them from a terrible death at the hands of the shaman, so you are their hero. It is no wonder they view you as good husband material. In addition, as daughters of a Chief, they always expected to be married off to another Chief’s sons, so marrying Chief John fits that picture.”

“Not quite, Numa. My private talks with Ranga revealed that as rape victims they would no longer be seen as eligible women for a decent marriage. Being a concubine was about all they might expect as a result. They had prepared for the worst, and being told that eventually they might become wife of Chief John was like being rescued all over again. It was all I could do to persuade them that it was to save them from possible death in childbirth that I was putting off a postulated marriage.”

“That was a very practical view, John. You didn’t need any more girls to have sex with, so you could afford to consider their welfare.”

“It was more than just practical, Numa. These girls were all that was left of their mother Bertha’s family. Losing one of them to childbirth through being too undeveloped would be close to killing them myself: I could not do that to Bertha.”

“Ah, yes. I remember how pathetically grateful Bertha was to you, for saving some of her children from that monster. So you are willing to take them as extra wives when they are a bit older?”

“Yes. It is not just being kind to them; they are nice girls. Bertha saw to that. What I don’;t know is how the nanomites they get from me in the meantime will do to their bodily physique. Will the medical nanomites encourage good child-bearing pelvises as the girls develop further, or will these tiny machines simply ensure good general health?”

“Don’t expect me to be able to answer that, John! I know nothing about such magic systems.”

“It will be interesting to watch how they change, though. Will you advise me on their pelvis development, Numa? That will be the determining factor.”

“I can do that, John. Would you do me a favour before it gets dark? Take a look around and through that new house, and see what Brando has made of it. He was talking about a larger version for bigger families, but we need to be sure that the original is satisfactory.”

John set to, and found himself admiring the cunning workmanship that Brando indulged in. The Maker had driven a whole series of supports into the ground to reinforce the walls against weather impacts, and he had added more L-shaped straps between the roof and the walls, to secure the roof solidly. He hadn’t added guttering, probably had never heard of such a thing, but had added a thin slate to protrude over the lowest roof edge. It would divert the rainwater away from the house. Brando had also completed the soakaway drain on the downward side, taking any excess water away from the wooden walls and so helping prevent rot in the future.

There were a few ideas here that could be applied to larger houses, and nothing that John could find to object to. Internally, he had added cross timbers at the top of the lowest walls, laying and fixing them on top of batten supports nailed or screwed to the wall. That would help keep the walls vertical and parallel, and also add more bracing strength.

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