Chapter Three - Blood
In 1862 the soon-to-be chancellor of Germany, Otto von Bismark, spoke to the Prussian Parliament about the unification of German territories. “Not through speeches and majority decisions will the great questions of the day be decided”, he told the Parliament, “but by iron and blood”.
Some time later, Gideon was on the roof with the rest of the “soldier party” and two of the security androids who had brought up the heavy blocks he had asked for. The Witches did not have heavy stones lying around. Instead they instructed the android to show Gideon to another room back on ground level which contained a 3D virtual reality user interface he could operate to specify the size and shape of what he wished to make. Another part of the interface looked at the properties of the materials that made up those shapes. Gideon had not dealt with 3D printers, but The Witches’ arrangement seemed like a vastly more sophisticated version of such printers on earth. After a couple of tries he managed some hefty concrete-like blocks plus a number of round balls – he was thinking of cannon balls when he asked for them – of the same material. He thought he would see if the androids could be persuaded to throw them.
It was late summer on the plateau where the structure was situated, and it was a nice day – warm enough for the Midis on the battering ram to take off their tunics as they continued to pound away at the door. From the top of the structure the humans had a glorious view of the forests that surrounded it on three sides. To the East, hard by The Witches home was a gorge with a river, small enough to be a creek, at the bottom. That gorge was crossed by a single-span truss bridge – a bridge where the supporting steel beams were on the top as well as the sides. Supported by two large, concrete pillars the bridge was wide enough for two lanes of traffic. Beyond that was a grassy plain broken by occasional clumps of woods including one close to the edge of the gorge on the far side.
The road crossing the bridge ran from Haven City somewhere to the East up to the plateau, across the bridge and then past the structure’s Southern edge with the tourist centre cum Midi HQ just on the other side. The road then ran to the Summer camp which was about two days walk further on. A single intersection to the West of the structure linked that main road with another running North to the rocket pad, where the descent capsule carrying Gideon and his small party had landed. Gideon thought he could see the top of the launch pad control building. He would investigate later. For the moment, he had assembled his group near the south east edge of the structure just out of sight of the Midi encampment and the tourist centre. The distant, rhythmic thudding of the Midi battering ram, which was almost directly below, floated up to them.
“Okay, guys, here’s the thing,” he told the group. “Like the rest of you I was basically shanghaied into coming here – drugged, stuffed in a box and shot into space, because the HEO head knew as much as The Witches or anyone else seems to know about fighting, and he needed fighters to counter the threat. The trouble is he got us which includes me, a quartermaster sergeant in the reserves…”
“Oh great,” sneered Boothroyd. “We need special forces and we get a fucking part-time stores clerk.”
“Thanks for that,” said Gideon. “What are you bringing to the party then? How did you end up here?”
“None of your business, fuck head.”
Gideon thought that Boothroyd was just as charming as his colleagues back at HEO, albeit much more direct in his abuse.
“I’m Monster,” said the red-haired man. “That’s what my cycle brothers called me. Boothie here and me were hired as drivers, as part of ex-con rehab program the HEO suddenly got real enthusiastic about. I was a sergeant-at-arms for the Pythons, but some discipline work got caught on camera.”
Gideon had heard of the Pythons and was impressed.
“I killed my husband because he was cheating on me,” said Honey. “I got four years from a women judge then got work release as a cleaner as part of the same program for the HEO. That Dr Benson dude was nice to me.”
“Name is Colin,” said the small, dark-haired man. “Couldn’t get a job then HEO suddenly hired me as a clerk. Still haven’t worked out the systems. I was a soldier.”
“What branch of service? What unit?” asked Gideon.
“Field kitchen. Didn’t like it much.”
“But you did basic training, right?”
“Yeah, guess.”
Gideon thought that “his team” was not exactly promising material but that could not be helped now.
“I am just about to initiate a violent act against another species,” he told them. “You guys don’t have to be part of this. The Witches, the inhabitants of this structure, have asked me to stop the creatures below from banging on their front door, so that’s what I’m going to do. But it means starting a fight with an alien species without the approval of our governments.”
“Wait,” said Honey, “witches like in magic ‘n shit.”
“No, no, it’s just my name for them. They look something like our image of witches. They have agreed to meet you all and feed us” (Gideon was not sure what they would be fed, but the supply of food had been discussed), “and that means it’s a mercenary act. I’m about to institute violence in expectation of a reward.”
“That’s what I got in jail for,” sneered Boothroyd. “Why is it up to us, anyway? Call up earth and tell ‘em to send some of those special forces shits – it’s their job, let them do it.”
“For once, Boothie’s got a point,” said Monster. “It’s not our problem.” The others nodded.
“Well, it is our problem,” said Gideon. “We’ve got to survive here a while.” He told them about the gate being closed and communication with earth being cut off.
“You mean, these witches, who put up this star gate, got hacked by their enemies?” said Honey. “So, the gate doesn’t work anymore?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“They’re gunna un-hack it, right?”
“They said they would, but they also said the work would proceed a lot faster if the noise would stop,” said Gideon
“But, Honey, what are we supposed to do about the creatures, what-ever they are down there,” said Honey. “I killed my husband with a gun and made myself a nice dinner afterwards, but I haven’t got a gun with me.”
“Let me worry about that for now. The witches were able to supply some munitions and a workforce, of sorts. You’ve seen the androids bring stuff up. Sam!”
“Yes!”
The humans started. Sam was the same android who had been there when they work up – at least, the humans thought he was the same one. They all looked identical. But now he spoke, using much the same voice and accent as The Witches.
“I asked the Witches to give me two of their lifting androids for a while and allow them to respond to my commands – but only to my voice commands.”
“They call him, Sam?” asked Honey
“No, that’s my name for him. Sam security man. The other’s Fred ‘cause Fred goes with Sam. Let’s get them working.”
Gideon went to the side and peered over to see exactly where the battering ram was then he had Sam place one of the concrete blocks on the spot. The block had been printed with handholds in the side and the android lifted one with no difficulty at all.
“Okay, step on the block holding the next block like so,” Gideon gestured, “hold it out a little.”
Sam held out the block as ordered.
“Command?” he asked after a while. He did not seem bothered by having to hold the heavy block at arms length. He just wanted to know what to do next.
Gideon hesitated. When the various authorities on Earth were told about what he intended to do, which involved putting members of an alien species at risk – and it would get back to Earth sooner or later – he would be asked tough questions. Never mind that the Midis had been killing and enslaving humans, what right did he have to be violent in return? Why had he not simply waited for The Witches to unhack the gate and then requested instructions? All that would sound so simple to anyone who was not inside a building with a Midi battering ram hammering at the door, and with catapults being set up within easy shot of the walls. He could be in trouble, perhaps a lot of trouble. Then he thought of the meanness and near irrational hatred he had experienced at the HEO just for being a soldier. Stuff them.
“Release the block; let go,” said Gideon opening his hands to demonstrate.
The block dropped out of sight and a moment later there was an audible snap and shouting from below. The pounding noise stopped. The witches had provided Gideon with a single plastic sheet which a showed three-dimensional picture of the scene. Gideon and his little band crowded around that sheet to watch the action while remaining well out of sight. The concrete block had missed the Midi officer with the red band tied around his neck shouting encouragement while sitting on the cross bar – shame that, thought Gideon - but had struck the battering ram square on and had snapped the leather ties that held it to the frame. Repairs would be required, but they would not be difficult.
“Drop several more quickly,” said Gideon, “but not in the same place.”
“Not in the same place?” asked Sam.
“Throw the next one out a little, like this,” he gestured.
Sam complied, and this time the block fell square on the centre cross piece, which the Midi officer had vacated, shaking the whole structure. Two more blocks, including one that went through the front cross piece, completed its ruin. By that time the shouting of the Midi battering ram team, who had spotted Sam on the roof of the structure, had shaken the other Midis out of their lethargy. Warriors with light hunting bows ran forward. Others with shields, spears and swords formed up. Gideon did not know what the men-at-arms hoped to achieve but the bows were a worry.
“Sam! Fred! Move back. Everyone take a few paces back.”
After a few seconds several arrows shot into sight above the roof and fell with a clatter on the roof, some way short of Gideon’s party.
“Those guys are shooting at us?” The disbelief was evident in Honey’s voice.
“Well, yeah,” said Gideon. “I said we were about to get into a fight. You don’t have to be involved. You can go back to the pods. The Witches have agreed that anyone who wants out will be given enough food to walk to the summer camp – about two days on foot from here.”
“Yeah?” said Boothroyd, as another volley of arrows arced over to clatter harmlessly on the roof. “We can just walk out of this fucked-up mess?”
“Sure, but we gotta get rid of the Midis outside first. Speaking of which..” Gideon had noted that one of the catapults he had seen earlier had been finished and was being wheeled around. “Sam! Fred! More work. Grab some of those concrete balls..” Honey sniggered. “Everyone else grab a ball or two and follow me.”
Skirting the area where the arrows had been falling they peeked over the edge of the roof further West. “Fred and Sam, see the moving machine.” Gideon pointed. “The creatures are pushing it. Start throwing these” he held up the ball of concrete, “at those machines”.
“Throw?” said Sam.
Gideon mimed throwing. “..So that it goes through the air and hits the machine.”
Sam threw. The projectile, somewhat larger than a baseball and heavier and harder than a cricket ball, hit the main cross piece of the siege engine with a ‘thwack!’ the humans could hear up on the roof, cracking the wood. A creditable throw. Another ball thrown by Fred knocked one of the crew over. The Midi lay very still. The rest retreated, leaving their machine behind. The bowmen left off firing at an empty roof to race to the new trouble spot, only to run into a concrete barrage. Two died before the others elected to move out of range.
First blood and round one to the humans. There were plenty more rounds to go.