Chapter 2

Late that Summer, from a motley collection of buildings and bunkers that would soon be called, 'Centercity', The Provincial Central Committee announced henceforth the new borders of the soon to be independent Committee Provinces. This hugely ambitious, and optimistic, declaration drew a line down the Floral River to its confluence in the Southern Salt Marshlands. As well as claiming the future suburbs of Cityplex planned for the west bank, it also reserved for itself a tremendous amount of territory, including all that settled by the future Arks. Although widely seen as merely a negotiating position by Capitol, and a ludicrous one at that, the proto-Arks viewed it as an outrage and provocation.

Rationally, it was simply impossible for the 'CentCom' to enforce its authority over so vast an area. Its 'Military' was still in the act of formation - a collection of regular units defecting from Capitol, semi-trained and ill equipped conscript units, and volunteer militias bold in their attacks on the defenseless, but rather shy when confronted with determined opposition. The 'Military' had a sizable force of battle tanks - mostly brought over by defecting Capitol brigades - but its single biggest problem was fuel. Pending an agreement, Capitol refused to share any oil and, conveniently, virtually all storage facilities were within their territory.

For years now, aviation had been in the hands of the Association's armed forces. Commercial aviation was just too expensive and even the military severely restricted its flying. As for the 'Coms', they had no flying component at all limiting the 'Military' to a ground force only. Still, it never occurred to anyone at CentCom that a useful means of mobility was now the horse.

In the three months since the foundation of the Black Guard, however, a new sense of militancy began to infuse the more temperamental of the proto-Arks. First out of the blocks were an 'association' of Spanish anarchists with the remnant of the Greek Thessaloniki. Variously dubbed the 'Montseny' or 'Zaragoza' column, they were still fuming over the treatment of the Greeks outside Newbury town. These 'Montsenys' were reluctant to join the Black Guard because of the perception it was dominated by Russians. Instead, they armed themselves from their friends at Iberica with the very latest Gonzaga 'autorifles' and set out for a little payback.

Their wrath fell on Newbury town in the mistaken belief the Greeks who had been seized by the Coms were being held there. Doubtless, it didn't matter either way for the Montsenys were after revenge. Some 300 of them assembled outside Newbury, which was defended only by a 12 man conscript unit. These quickly fled and the Montsenys succeeded in burning half the town down before more determined Military units arrived.

In another incident, a Traveler caravan of mostly Germans was set upon close to the border on the West Floral and plundered blind by 'volunteers' wearing red kerchiefs around their heads. They behaved like common bandits and the Germans believed they were an irregular unit sent to cause mayhem.

As for the Black Guard itself, it had grown exponentially since its inception. Despite being 'dominated' by Ukrainians and Russians, other 'nationalities' overcame their prejudice and volunteered for training. Iberica had now devoted a whole street of workshops for 'autorifle' production and they were now being produced at the rate of 100 a week. In addition, Irish craftsmen, now calling themselves 'the Connollys', developed a kind of all in one suit called an 'allsuit'. These were made of a fabric that maintained the body at a constant temperature, despite the weather, was waterproof, tight-fitting, with catches that allowed a variety of equipment to be clipped to it without impeding the wearer. These were invariably colored black for night operations - a Black Guard forte.

The Black Guard carried out numerous raids down the Floral where the Coms were trying to establish bases and fortress towns in pursuit of their territorial claims. Although these were mostly localized raids, it brought them to the attention of Capitol - who were certainly of no mind to discourage such harassment. Secretly, the Black Guard's arsenal was increased by the arrival of anti-armour rockets, known as APMs - all with their makers codes scratched out, but of the same pattern as that used by the Armed Forces of the North American Association. Examples of these handy weapons were passed on to Iberica for some reverse engineering.

Suetonius was acknowledged leader and his second in command was the Russian, Borisov. He set up training and logistics bases at the Winter camps of the Russian herdsmen. In addition, he appointed a number of 'Lieutenants' who commanded 'Brigades', the size of which varied considerably. Nestor commanded one such 'Brigade' for, although he was no great thinker, he showed considerable aptitude for soldiering.

Now their 'hetman' was a full time Black Guard officer, the Russians appointed a replacement who was something of a nationalist. One of his first acts was to form purely Russian cavalry units - even after Suetonius adamantly told them the day of heroic cavalry charges was long gone. Whereas the Black Guard used the horse as a means of transport, the Russians - whom some anarchists dubbed 'Bakhunins' - intended to fight from the saddle with short, machine pistols they called 'horse pistols.' These shouldn't be confused with the modern 'needle gun', which is gas operated and fires long, slim rounds. These 'horse pistols' were based on models designed for tank commanders, necessarily short to fit through an open turret hatch. Again, their source was believed to be the Capitol's Armed Forces.

In fits and starts, for all this new found militancy on the part of these polyglot groups, a strange sense of unity was beginning to emerge. Irish and Spaniards were supporting a force of mostly Russians and Ukrainians. Some notion of shared values was floating to the surface. These centered on freedom and self determination - an unwillingness to be pushed around or dominated by someone else. There was a feeling that an individual should be free to make their own decisions and that money and property got in the way of the relationship between equals.

But, what of the other component in this melange of peoples, the so called Traveler folk? Well, no longer able to trade their goods and services to the North Americans they converged on the growing marketplace of Iberica. Iberica, being far from the raids and counter-raids that characterized the conflict in the north, was convinced they were in a full scale war. It seems the furtherest one was from the action, the larger the conflict appeared to be. Iberica was aflame with stories of battles, victories, and the exploits of the Black Guard. All were greatly exaggerated to a degree actual participants would struggle to recognize the real event. Many young men of the Travelers were seduced by these tales and a steady stream sought out fighting units of the various anarchist bands.

'Columns' sprang up overnight. There was the 'Garcia Column', the Durettis, and Montsenys. From Iberica came 'the Nins' and 'Connollys.' Soon, these ceased to be ethnic based and absorbed Traveler kids from all of the countries of Europe as well as local Americans who'd long ago identified themselves with the Europeans. The Durettis and Montsenys could boast 2 or 3000 fighters each by the end of that year. Being anarchists, of course, women were regarded equally and several hundred young women joined the fighting columns.

No-one is sure when the black/red banner was first flown or when it became the general rallying point of all the proto-Arks. Certainly, the Spanish flew it early, but it was not readily accepted by the Ibericans, who either flew a red flag or eschewed all 'bourgeois symbols' completely. Likely, this happened sometime after the Ukrainians, the future 'Makhnovistas', adopted a red/black scarf around their necks as a sort of 'corps colour.'

Way down in the White Mountain area, Hap and his new family of Travelers were largely oblivious to the 'war' now heating up in the North. In this land, news traveled mainly by word of mouth and the treasures of the White Mountains had yet to be discovered by the Traveler community at large. Therefore, they met few other groups from whom to update themselves to the current situation. At this moment they were heading back to the Floral - the 'vans stuff full of new acquired merchandise.

Hap took the lead in his truck. Hitherto, he had resisted the pressure from the others to have it repainted like a circus wagon. He wore 'his' four bar captain's hooded jacket, because it was designed for this environment and he had few other clothes. Some small objections were made by the others to being lead by a military man in a military-type vehicle, but he was now Moira Lys's partner and she was adamant he could wear, and drive, what he damn well pleased.

Invariably, Hap was accompanied by Clonagh in the truck while Moira Lys piloted the 'van. Finn had decamped to his new partner's 'van - Coral - and Hap agreed with Moira Lys, she was as dumb as they come. Mindful of the sensitivities of his friends, Hap kept his side arm tucked away in a shoulder holster out of sight. Curious of it, Clonagh, in the truck, had asked him if she could see it and, despite the warnings of Moira Lys, she didn't seem the least frightened by it. That weapon, a standard issue UW MP49n, was similar to the 'horse pistols' adopted by the 'Bakhunins, ' in effect, a mini sub machine-gun.

Hap had seen a great deal of the badlands on his journey to the south. Much of it was desert, although frequently punctuated by the ruins of old cities. The rusted and broken evidence of man's once extensive habitation was given over to the ravages of wind and sand with only the fireflax to offset the hues of the leeched soil. Now and then they encountered a small community - often no more than an extended family. These were usually locals who steadfastly clung to their burnt holdings out of sheer obstinacy. Habitation wasn't possible without water and such communities that did exist were grouped around springs or sluggish tributaries of the Floral.

Hap's new friends had decided to venture to the outskirts of Cityplex where it was believed they'd get better terms of trade than Iberica. Fuel could be obtained, albeit at a hefty price, and their reserve was getting low. The nearer they got to the west bank of the Floral, however, the more uneasy Hap became. In all his years at NAS West Floral, he'd got used to the pulse of this sparse land and now it told him something wasn't right. He turned back towards the next 'van, and Moira Lys gave him a wave and a smile. As they entered a cutting in the road, suddenly figures appeared in front, all heavily armed and all pointing their guns in his direction.

Hap braked hard - so hard, Moira Lys shunted the back of his truck. For a few seconds, the two sides appraised one another. Above, on both crests of the cutting, Hap saw more men, this time, lying prone with their guns trained on the convoy. While he waited, Hap counted them up. In his rear view mirror he could see more towards the back of the caravan. He counted them too and came to a figure of at least twenty.

Two warily approached while Hap figured in his head whose soldiers they were. Intelligence reports back at West Floral had shown plenty of Com soldiers - most being haphazardly dressed with their equipment slung over their uniforms whatever way suited the individual. These soldiers, however, were uniformly turned out with everything in exactly the same place. From head to toe they wore some kind of black coverall. Their weapons appeared to be modified versions of the standard UW M30a1. Hap could see no badges of rank, suggesting they were some special forces unit. Only those units didn't mark out their officers lest they become the first targets in an ambush.

The stance they took, their demeanor, the way their eyes darted about missing nothing, suggested these were well trained elite soldiers. Hap quietly told Clonagh beside him to keep her hands visible and not to make any sudden movement. He did the same and endeavored to remain calm as the first of the soldiers walked down the length of the truck examining its contents. His fellow covered them both from the front. To this point, not a word had been spoken.

"What the fuck?" Hap heard. It was a woman's voice and she was plenty pissed off. In his mirror he could see Moira Lys striding determinedly towards the road block.

"Moira Lys?" Hap exclaimed, "No!"

"Who the fuck are you clowns?" she demanded to startled and confused looks. One soldier looked behind him and it was then Hap saw a group on horseback. These, then were the officers, he concluded, both by their bearing and the fact several were wearing a red and black scarf around their necks. Hap assumed it was some kind of rank differentiation. Moira Lys made directly for them and Hap sucked in his breath. Conflicted, he didn't know whether to chase her or stay where he was and try and protect Clonagh, now shivering in fear beside him.

The guy who'd been examining Hap's truck then ran forward and grabbed Moira Lys by the arm. In a flash, she flipped the guy over her hip in a well-executed body throw. The soldier landed heavily on his back - a stunned look on his face - and made to sit up. In one fluid movement, Moira Lys kicked him square on the jaw and the guy fell back, his head landing with a crack on the ground.

Hap made up his mind. Impulsively, he decided to sell his life dearly and sprang from the truck. He barged straight into a soldier standing by the cab and knocked him sideways. This guy reacted a little quicker than his friend and Hap was soon pinned to the hood with a gun pressed to his chest. Deftly, the soldier reached into Hap's jacket and pulled his MP49 from its holster.

From the rear of the caravan, Hap was dimly aware of Finn and the others running up, their soldier guards trailing behind. A commotion was beginning with both soldiers and Travelers shouting at one another. Then he saw the tall, bearded 'officer' in the middle of the riders put up his hand and the black clad soldiers immediately stood down.

"Who the fuck are you?" Moira Lys was still demanding. "Get out of our fucking way. You, get your fucking gun out of my face!"

It was then the tall bearded one began a slow hand clap. Soon, the soldiers broke into smiles followed by laughter. This continued for some time before another of the officers gave a sharp command in a language Hap didn't recognize. 'Tall beard' then ordered another forward.

"Please," the man said in English, "we mean you no harm. We are sorry for the inconvenience." This exaggerated courtesy had its effect and the Travelers calmed down. "Suetonius would like to know what a military man is doing leading a Traveler caravan?" He looked directly at Hap - at that moment retrieving his sidearm from the soldier who took it. "And, ah..." the Englishman continued, "he wants to know who this woman is who dropped one of his soldiers on the ground?"

"I'm Hap Arnold, ah, Captain Arnold, er, late of Naval Aviation, sir. This woman is my partner," he added with barely concealed admiration, "Moira Lys."

The Englishman repeated that back to Suetonius and received further instructions. "What faction?"

"Zapadnik?" Suetonius asked.