Chapter 18: Planting a Seed

Eight hours later.

Time: May 7, 2055 11:10 AM

Hannibal woke slowly at first, and then his eyes opened with a jerk. He was lying on an enormous bed in a large room. Wires and tubes were attached to his uninjured arm, and the other arm was encased in a hard shell from just below the elbow to his fingers. Hannibal stared in amazement as he wiggled his fingers and bent them to feel the edge of the shell. He had assumed he had lost the use of the arm forever. Apparently not...

The view out the large adjacent windows was grand. Hannibal thought his room must be a full hundred cubits above the ground. He recognized the beautiful city of Funchal instantly.

"How are you feeling?" asked a man in fluent Phoenician from the other side of the room.

Hannibal turned to the man and thought for a moment before giving him an honest answer. "Very clean, cleaner than I've been in two years, and a little sleepy. My arm! It's working now, and all the pain is gone, just an itchy feeling."

The man nodded. "The doctors will be here soon to talk with you. I'll be your interpreter. My name is Dimas."

Hannibal nodded. The recognized the man's uniform. He was a member of the Madeiran military. Hannibal took a deep breath. "Thank you Dimas. Do you know, will I have to wear this shell forever?"

The man laughed. "No! Probably a few weeks I would guess. I think they had to do some..." He paused for a moment. "I don't know how to say nerve reconstruction." The last two words were in Portuguese. ""The doctors had to work on the part of your body that tells your muscles how to move. The doctors will tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Well," Dimas scratched his head for a moment, "from what I heard, everything went fine. The shell is so you won't stress the part the doctors just worked on. After the shell comes off, you'll be..." He paused for a moment. "Healthy."

Hannibal nodded slowly and stared at his wiggling fingers. "Such a gift," he thought silently, and then out loud, "My family, all the people who work for me, can you tell me? Are they still safe?"

Dimas looked genuinely sorry. "I really don't know, and I'm not authorized to give you that kind of information if I did. My job is interpreter, definitely not to be a source of information unless I'm ordered to tell you something."

Hannibal paused. "I understand." He tried to smile and reply in the language that Megan was teaching him. "No problem."

Dimas smiled. "Yeah." He switched back to Phoenician. "Megan Lopes wanted to be here when you woke up, but..."

Hannibal nodded. "Yes, I know. She mentioned this to me just before I went into surgery. She and her husband, one of the hundred kings of Madeira, will be meeting with the other ninety-nine kings and deciding what they want to do about what happened at Sidon. Megan said it might take all day."

Dimas nodded thoughtfully and said nothing for a while. "I imagine the hospital will bring you lunch soon, probably just some clear liquids and crackers. But maybe you'll get some real food for dinner."

Hannibal couldn't help but smile. "Real food?"

Dimas got up and stretched. "Yeah. Let me make sure the doctors know you're awake." With a cheerful nod he walked out of the room.

Hannibal returned to gazing out the window. The Funchal hospital was very near the ocean, and he had a splendid view of both the Atlantic to the south and city of Funchal to the west. Although he didn't recognize it, he could easily see Megan's residential complex less than a kilometer down the coast. And currently the day was sunny, but a wind was picking up and Hannibal's keen eyes studied the clouds for a moment. "A storm is coming," he thought, "not a big one but a fast one." This would not be a day to see the sun kiss the horizon when evening came.

Hannibal stared at the tubes and wires connected to his undamaged arm. "It's long overdue Hannibal," he thought to himself. "And you probably have the whole afternoon. It's time to shift the para digma." Hannibal leaned back and relaxed and began the great work of changing everything.

Eight hours later.

Time: May 7, 2055 7:20 PM

The hospital room was quiet, except for the wind-driven rain lashing the windows. The lights were on low and the interpreter guard quietly reading a book. Hannibal was disconnected from all his wires and he lay in bed quietly enjoying the view of the city lights below, seeing all the power and dark beauty of the storm without having to worry about protecting his boats or crops.

Dimas stood to attention and saluted as Megan entered the room. Alvaro entered a second later.

Megan returned the salute. "Corporal, you are relieved."

"Thank you Ensign. Good night." With a last nod at Hannibal, Dimas left the room and went home to his family. Megan and Alvaro came to the bedside and pulled up a couple of chairs.

"I hear the surgery went well," began Megan mostly in Phoenician, but using the Egyptian word for surgery.

Hannibal lifted his arm and cast and nodded. "Only two weeks, and then the shell will come off. The doctor's last words were, good as new." He said the last phrase in Portuguese.

Megan smiled at her friend's progress in speaking her language and replied in kind. "Excellent! Did you get a good dinner?"

Hannibal grinned back and tried to continue in Portuguese. "A fine meal. My only regret for dessert no chocolate ice cream." And then his eyes pleaded with Megan for news about his family.

Megan switched to Phoenician. "Your farms are still safe, and your family. Our military can do this easily. But politically, I think we're at a pivot point for both our nations."

Hannibal nodded slowly and thought to himself, "Pivot point? Yes, a good way to think of it." He looked at Alvaro and said out loud, "You are one of the kings. I feel I should kneel before you, or at least bow."

Alvaro had been intensely studying the Phoenician language with his wife for the last two years. He replied, "Please don't. That custom is totally unheard of here." He then smiled. "You think of me as a king? You don't consider our President is closer to that title?"

Hannibal shook his head. "Your system of rule is so strange, but no. The power to make law is the true power of a king. Your wife has described your executive to me. He seems to have Ittobaal's position, one who executes the king's desires."

Alvaro grinned and then gave a small laugh. "Well, that's not exactly what our President is, but I see your point. Hannibal, our Congress is deeply divided over the issue of how to proceed with Phoenicia. We are very, very reluctant to continue our military operations there." Alvaro sighed. "Let me first tell you what's going on. A civil war has broken out in Canaan. King Ethbaal controls the coastal cities and borders, but much of the rest of the population is fleeing into the farmlands. Your two cousins are trying to keep things organized. They're doing a good job of it too."

Hannibal frowned. "Our neighbors will invade."

Megan spoke up. "So far the Aramaeans to the west have not responded militarily. The Philistines to the south though might be beginning to mass their army. It's too early to judge their intentions, but the only forces opposing them at Tyre are five platoons of your citizen army."

Megan was referring to the Phoenician border city forty kilometers south of Sidon. Hannibal looked shocked. "Three hundred men?! Against the Philistines?! And no royal guards?"

Alvaro shook his head. "The king has about four hundred of the guard left. Two platoons were killed this morning at the harbor, and another platoon was destroyed in an incident with the Madeiran military in the afternoon. The guard was herding a battalion of regular army to fight against your cousins before they could flee across the mountains. We attacked the royal guard from the air. Most of the army regulars joined your cousins, and the rest fled back to the coast."

Alvaro gave Hannibal a moment to digest this and then continued. "Hannibal, we really don't want to be in the business of directing a civil war. Congress voted to protect your farmlands from attack for another full day, but we'll be back in debate over this tomorrow morning." Alvaro went on to describe the details of the situation.

Phoenicia had a population of about 62,000, 0.2% of the world's people. Because of the plague, a full 50% were children below fifteen years of age. Of the adults, half were women and 20% were slaves, resulting in approximately 12,000 adult male citizens, split roughly into half farmers and three equal categories of sea traders, local fishermen, and urban dwellers who specialized in various manufacturing businesses.

From this population, the king had organized 600 career warriors and an additional citizen army of 3000 soldiers which acted both as a military and a royal police under the command of the guard. Every capable male citizen would normally serve seven years in the army while he was between 15 and 35 years of age. A typical army rotation was one year on and two years off.

The Phoenicians used base 60 in their numbering system. The army was organized into sixty men to a platoon and ten platoons to a battalion. The first battalion was the royal guard, and five additional battalions comprised the regular army. The full citizenry could also be mobilized in an emergency

Hannibal grimaced. Almost a third of the professional guards were killed? King Ethbaal would certainly consider this an emergency. There was no limit to the damage a civil war could do. If enough blood were spilt, the surrounding nations would attack, and if not that the slaves would revolt. It had happened before, and Hannibal deeply disagreed with how poorly the slaves were treated at the coastal cities. The branded slaves there had absolutely nothing to lose.

Hannibal looked at Alvaro. "Where does the population stand?"

Alvaro tried to sound both factual and encouraging. "By count, the farmlands under the control of your cousins are outnumbered two to one, twenty thousand to forty thousand. After the defeat of the royal guard this afternoon, most of the farmers decided to join your side. We also think you have a lot of sympathy with the fishermen and sea merchants. They just haven't had the opportunity to join you yet. And the slave issue is a big plus for you. King Ethbaal will have to maintain a force to guard against revolt. On your farms, the former slaves are enthusiastically helping prepare defenses."

Hannibal sighed. "But the guard will remain fanatically loyal to the king. They are well disciplined and professional butchers of men. Four hundred of them could slaughter many battalions of farmers."

Alvaro thought of the Spanish Conquistadors slaughtering great numbers of South American natives. "Yes, we know. My faction in Congress needed to stress that point before we reached agreement to continue our protection of the farmlands. This war is a direct result of our contact with you Hannibal. We thus share in the responsibility for its outcome. Just how much responsibility is being fiercely debated."

Hannibal stared at him. "How do you people do it? I've seen individuals act with Greek agape, but never kings. How do you people do it?"

Megan stared back at her friend, her eyes wide open in surprise and admiration. "My gosh Hannibal, you've done it! We're no longer gods to you, are we?"

Hannibal looked at her, his eyes so filled with gratitude they were wet with tears. "I have so many questions, so many questions for you Megan..." He turned back to Alvaro. "But my questions can wait. What can I possibly do to help you in your debate with the other kings of Madeira?"

Alvaro grinned. "Well, we do have some ideas. First of all, in your best opinion, what would happen if Madeira does nothing?"

Hannibal answered at once. "That's easy. My cousins will put up a stiff fight and then surrender when their position becomes hopeless. Otherwise vast numbers of people will be put to the sword. And our social experiment of slave-free farming will come to an end, regardless of who wins."

Alvaro nodded. "I suspected as much. And if he is victorious, will Ethbaal spare your cousins?"

Hannibal answered immediately. "No, impossible. The king would kill me too if he ever had the power to do so, and my family. Even my infant son would be killed. Edom's twin daughters would be spared the sword, they're young enough, your daughter's age." He grimaced. "They will become branded slaves." Hannibal was shocked by a sudden memory. "The gods!" he thought silently. "Edom's wife was bringing the girls to Sidon today!"

Alvaro sat there frowning. "Branded slaves?"

His heart torn for a woman who was like a sister to him, Hannibal just shrugged, unable to continue, leaving it for Megan to explain. "There are two types of slaves in Phoenicia, slaves that can earn or be given their freedom, and branded slaves who by royal edict are slaves for life. They have burn marks on the outside of both forearms to show the difference. The branding is done by the king's guard. They use a hot copper rod with the king's mark at one end."