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CHAPTER 28

Jenny Caswell felt very alert. Here she was, an E-5, in nominal charge of a US contingent with attached assets in the Stone Age. This wasn’t something Airman Leadership School covered. She had Cryder to back her up, which was a plus. She knew him well enough, and he’d have no issue using force competently and responsibly. Dr. Raven wasn’t physically fit, but was certainly intellectual. Dr. Sheridan a bit less so, and it irked her to admit the most feminist member of the element was a hindrance.

She sat in the CQ area where she had a good view and ready access to weapons and support from Cryder. Lieutenant Cole had his people reviewing some Army doctrine, and handling firewood, trimming, and cleaning details.

Right then, Sheridan walked up and grabbed a drink from the kitchen gear.

“How is it going, Sergeant?” she asked.

“As well as it can be,” Jenny replied. “How’s the research?”

“Taking a short break from fresh stuff and double-checking some of the extant projects. Amalie does a good job, but it’s my name on the documents so I want to make sure it’s correct.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed. It did. Raven took it personally, but possibly it was just bureaucracy.

Sheridan stepped a bit closer and spoke a little more softly. “I’m surprised they put you in charge, not Cole, him ranking, and male being a bit of it.”

That was notable, and part of her tension. Technically he could take charge, even though Captain Elliott had specifically given her the task. Maybe. Status mattered. He could argue the point, though.

She would have to explain at length. “Unit differentiation. We’re a tasked unit, they’re a recovered unit. Until he’s officially cleared by our command his status is similar to a recovered POW. It would have to be an emergency before he could do so.”

“Right.” Sheridan nodded. “Also, what mental state are they in after all this? I’m just giddy as hell at being here. It’s a dream, no matter how real it is. I’m looking at completely raw wilderness and geeking out. They don’t find it as fun, though.”

“No, they don’t. We didn’t either. It’s so much more relaxed this time,” she admitted.

Sheridan sounded disappointed as she said, “I wanted to see more of the future. There were quite a few female researchers and personalities, but what about their leadership? It’s a very technical, egalitarian, post-scarcity society. How do gender roles break down?”

Jenny noted, “They’ve been quiet about that. I think the captain said the council was predominantly men but had a large number of women by our standards. A third, maybe?”

Sheridan rolled her lip and said, “Not true equality, then.”

Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. That was one specific council for that matter. How they do the rest of it, there’s no telling.”

Sheridan said, “Yeah, I’d love to see.”

“They probably will never let us see that much, from what I understand of your discussions with them.”

“No, likely not.” The big woman placed her cup in the wash rack and said, “Back to work. Have a good day.”

“You too, Kate.”

She watched the recoverees work on a running track, leveling the ground with Cryder’s power shovel, and then adding gravel. It did keep them busy, and it was at least slightly useful. It served as light exercise. On the whole, a good plan on Cole’s part.

She didn’t want to get involved if she was the only one of her unit present. But she needed to appear occupied so they didn’t get jealous.

The ground around the CQ needed some attention, so she went to Roller Two, acquired the multitool, and thought hard about trimming grass. It shifted and formed into something not dissimilar from a grass whip that buzzed with power. She walked around the trucks and awning area, holding it a couple of inches off the grass, and it trimmed every blade and leaf. Much easier than a weed whacker. She’d found out previously it didn’t even hurt if it hit flesh.

That done, she went into the CQ and noted current activity, weather, and personnel. She was able to check the Roller One system on minerals and water level, which wasn’t necessary, but she needed something to do, too. There was a running weather forecast from the drones, and that said it was going to be a cool evening, into the thirties Fahrenheit. It was that time of year.

Cryder strode up, nodded and went to his console. He sat, waved the screen open, then sprung back up immediately.

“Hostiles,” he said.

She asked, “Where?” as she got up fast herself.

“From the east. Possibly related to the gear recovery.”

Jenny saw them. They were almost to the wards, some with bundles of spears, others with quivers of arrows and heavy-looking bows.

“How did they get so close?”

“They carry very little that trigger a sensor. Didn’t ping until close enough for bio readings.”

Right then, an arrow dropped inside the wards.

“You said you can block overhead?”

“I can, but that disperses power from the sides. Prefer full strength against impacts, and let them get stunned.”

“Meantime we have incoming indirect fire,” she complained, shaking her head. She grabbed a weapon off the rack.

Turning, she shouted to the recoverees, and ordered, “Get in the tents!”

Cole called back, “What? Say again?”

“Shelter in your tents, now!”

“Sergeant, I know you’re ranking for your element, but this calls for—”

She thought about the stun setting, recognized the shift, raised and shot. Cole dropped cold. That kind of bullshit was exactly why she wanted them in the tents, separated, unable to coordinate.

“Get in your goddamned tents. They’re spearproof. Uhiara, Burnham, stuff him into his or drag him in with you. Move!

They did as they were told. Kita was hiding in the corner of CQ, waiting for her mother. Crap.

She waved with her hand. “Come with me, Kita. Shooshi,” she said in the closest she could manage. Hopefully a simple word hadn’t changed much.

Kita ran over and clutched her thigh. She scooped up the girl, who clung as she edged toward the tents.

“Noirot! Come get your daughter!”

“Right here! Thanks, Sergeant!”

“Hooah.” She sprinted back up the slope that suddenly felt a lot steeper than it had. An arrow thumped against her uniform and fell away. It stung slightly, but hadn’t penetrated the reinforced fabric.

“Cryder, what do you need?”

“I’ll illum point targets. How’s your accuracy?”

“Expert by our ratings.”

“Well good.”

“What do we know about their weapons and tactics?” she asked.

“Only what we’ve seen,” he admitted.

“Okay, let me ask.” She turned and raised her voice. “Hamilton! CQ now!”

Cryder said, “I tightcast to his tent. He heard directly.”

“Thanks.”

The man came jogging quickly up the hill. He’d been half out and watching. In fact, all of them were out gawking, near but not in their tents.

Growling, she snapped, “Get inside! You can watch on video if you can figure out how.”

Cryder jumped to Roller Two and pulled at gear in the rear shell.

Hamilton arrived. She looked down at him, pointed under the awning.

“You’ll be safe from most fire there. What can you tell me about weapons and tactics, fast?”

She glanced up to see how many archers and spearmen were at work.

They had babies strapped to their backs.

What the fuck is this?” she shouted. “Are you fucking kidding me?

Hamilton called up, “They do it when defending the village. It wasn’t entirely clear, but what I figured out was that it means the babies are protected by a warrior’s spirit. They talked about how the crying baby drove them to greater urgency, because they wanted their sons to live. They also said it would build courage in the boys by exposing them to fighting young and strengthen their spirits.”

Below in CQ Amalie Raven muttered, “I have to write this down. There’s a paper in this, but no one will believe it.”

Jenny checked the weapon was still set to stun. She understood killing was a more effective tactic, but she didn’t like it in the first place, and absolutely not babies.

“I’m becoming a firm believer in social evolution,” she muttered. That guy up front with the impressive limed Mohawk was in range. She raised the weapon and stunned him cold, just as he heaved a spear. He wasn’t carrying a kid, thank God.

They moved fast. They were probably experienced at dodging spears and arrows. This was a line-of-sight weapon. She wasn’t sure if it was light speed or less, but it was fast enough they’d have no time to react. They never held still, though. They were in constant motion, shooting and hurling as they moved. She lined up on one with spiky dreads, led him, and shot, but he shifted as she fired and avoided the blast. He shouted to the others, and she glimpsed his spear dropping enough in front of her not to be a concern.

They were now hurling all their fire at her, apparently figuring to saturate and overwhelm, then pick a second target. The volley rained in, and she ass-bumped off the vehicle to the ground, under the awning. Behind her, stone tips chipped and clattered on the truck roof, and a few thumped into the fabric overhead.

What was Cryder doing? He was still atop, with his hood deployed, and arrows impacting and dropping from his uniform. Whatever he was setting up was a weapon on a mount, and it appeared he was done. He jumped clear as it pivoted, pointed, and started doing instantaneous air defense. Incoming projectiles disappeared in cracks of lightning and trails of smoke, almost like in a cartoon.

That done, he pulled a face shield out of his collar, grabbed his weapon from the bench, and walked toward the wards. They were strong enough nothing came in directly, though a mass of men were able to deflect it a couple of feet so far.

That stopped mattering as he raised it, morphed it to stun setting, and slapped something on his communicator. He started shooting, and the wards flickered.

Right, he couldn’t shoot out through, so he had them synched to drop as he fired, and close again immediately.

Jenny finally understood the term “mowing them down.” Cryder laid them unconscious in a swath. She hoped it was light enough the kids weren’t harmed. Some men ran for cover, but there wasn’t anything significant nearby. The hollows and other terrain features they’d used to approach didn’t offer as much protection going out, with a tall man, impervious to their weapons, striding after them.

His voice sounded through the truck.

“I need two volunteers, recommend Dr. Sheridan and Specialist Hamilton.”

“Understood,” she replied, raised her voice, and shouted, “Hamilton, go out and do what Shuff Cryder directs. Dr. Sheridan, please assist if you can.” She thought and added, “Dr. Raven, I need you here.”

She’d forgotten Hamilton was right there. He replied, “Hooah,” and headed out at a run. Sheridan jogged and trudged at a decent speed for her build, and God, Jenny hoped she never bulked up like that. A good reason to exercise and skip dessert.

Raven was a bit behind, and her ankles were a valid excuse for her build. She also had better muscle tone than her counterpart. The woman still winced as she arrived.

Jenny handed her the other weapon.

“Help me keep this group covered until Cryder is back in.”

“Can do. Does he still have the shock collars activated?”

“I assume so, but we’ve got a lot going on and only two of us at present.”

“Yes,” the scientist agreed. Still, she dragged a chair over to where she could keep a clear view of the camp while sitting.

Conversationally, Jenny offered, “We learned last time that you never have enough people when shit hits the fan.”

The older woman smiled.

“That’s true everywhere,” she agreed.

There was movement. It was Maldonado.

“No one said to leave your tent,” she told him, while waggling the weapon. Was he going to be a problem?

No, he crawled back in, and she felt a bit less tense. She was not the right person to do diplomacy, and Cryder obviously wasn’t, but possibly next time they should have someone trained in negotiation. This was a ball of suck.

Hamilton came back, followed by Sheridan and then Cryder, all of them carrying armloads of spears and bows. The wards hummed as they reengaged, and the camp was secure again, for now.

“On the one hand I’m glad you’ve disarmed them,” she acknowledged. “On the other hand, they need those for hunting, too.”

Cryder sounded almost reasonable as he replied, “Then they can negosh and we’ll explain our position. Or they can do without. Things clear here?”

“They are. Can we let them out now?” She waved at the recoverees.

“Yes. That was a good move. Thank you.”

Jenny replied, “You’re welcome. Are the kids okay?”

“Yeah, light stun. Force is fine, nonlethal preferred. That’s our default go-to.”

She thought it, but Raven said it first.

“That explains a lot. You’re used to reasonable people, and if they’re not, stun and explain later. The Paleos lack any context for status or parity of forces, and don’t respond to force that isn’t harmful or lethal.”

“I can always switch to a pain charge next time. Maybe I should.”

Raven winced. “For the adults, probably. But the kids…”

“If they want to learn to be warriors, this is part of it,” he replied. She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or coldly serious.

Jenny did feel much more secure with Cryder back inside. She remembered that she needed to release the other troops.

“All clear, resume normal duties!” she announced.

The recoveree element came out of their tents, and immediately wanted to examine the weapons.

She quickly ordered, “One bow, that one, and one spear, that one. I’m sure you’ve seen others.”

Lieutenant Cole said, “Yes, but this is a different clan with different styles.”

Dr. Sheridan said, “Not that much different. Possibly some stylistic marking variations.”

Cryder reported, “Sergeant Caswell, the recon team is fifteen minutes imminent.”

“Thanks for the update,” she said very calmly. Inside, a massive load lifted and she thought, Thank God.

She did feel she’d acquitted herself well, though. Now she had to write it up.


Sean Elliott asked Arnet to report their position.

The man replied, “I am. Fifteen minutes your time, close enough.”

He replied, “Excellent, thanks.”

“There was an attack. It has been dealt with and everything is controlled.”

“…Thanks.” Okay, that wasn’t reassuring.

Shortly they were in view of the camp, then approaching, then through the wards.

Something had happened here. There was a pile of weapons. Confiscated? Arrows littered the CQ. Everything seemed under control, but he wanted to check with Cryder and Caswell ASAP, without appearing to be concerned.

The Germans dismounted eagerly, and recognized the camp for what it was. They seemed aware the wards were both markers and defense. They stood close enough to support one another without getting tangled up. Definitely professional warriors.

Sean announced, “Welcome to our camp. Sergeant Spencer will show you around.”

Spencer made a minimal salute to indicate deference, and opened his hands in welcome.

“Oglesby, you and the machine help me translate. These wagons are our…meeting area. Lieutenant Devereaux and Gajin Arnet are our medics. They will see you any morning if you are sick, or any time you are injured. This enclosure is the latrine…”

Sean watched as he made a slow, measured walk to the CQ.

After a tour of facilities and perimeter, Spencer led them to a square popup Cryder had erected.

“You may rest here as you wish. We serve meals three times a day, and there are snacks as needed. The captain and Shuff Cryder will discuss details of our return. Welcome again.”

In the meantime, Sean arrived at the CQ.

Caswell stood from a terminal and nodded as he arrived. “Sir, I’m composing an AAR now. Approximately three hours ago, the camp was attacked by a large force of men with spears and bows. It appears to be in response to the cave recovery. The wards secure the perimeter well, but are less effective overhead. I ordered the recoverees to shelter in the tents for both safety and to keep them separated and controlled. I had to stun Lieutenant Cole to get compliance when he attempted to assume field command. Shuff Cryder and I defended the perimeter, and he erected a point defense. After doing so, he mass-stunned the area, and took Specialist Hamilton and Dr. Sheridan outside the perimeter to secure their weapons.” She pointed to a pile. “There is the potential to use those to negotiate with the locals to leave us alone in exchange for return. Dr. Raven and I kept the inside secured. There were no complications from the recoverees once they understood the instructions. Specialist Hamilton was helpful in an advisory role before assisting in securing weapons.”

He raised his eyebrows. That was succinct, complete, and she sounded pretty sure of herself, possibly only a bit twitchy after what was apparently a huge wave of attackers.

“Well done,” he assured her. “I’ll look at the AAR when it’s complete.”

“Thank you, sir,” she agreed, and resumed her seat.

Knowing all that, he took a quick patrol of the perimeter. Sergeant Spencer had the Germans tented and bedded with additional mattress material and quilts that Arnet must have provided. They seemed quite pleased.

The recoverees were mostly under control. Cole was really not measuring up. The man had his orders and should understand his status. Burnham and a couple of the enlisted were really stand-up troops under the circumstances. Cole, Lozano, and Munoz not so much.

The attacking force was apparently waking up, finding themselves bereft of weapons, and very concerned. He strode up that way as Hamilton and Oglesby chattered through the wards to the attackers.

Cryder stood back. As Sean approached, he waved a finger.

Sean walked over and asked, “Yes?”

“Can you play subordinate and awed? I have an idea.”

That was a bit uncomfortable. He actually was subordinate to the larger man with the higher tech and the only way home.

“Probably. What do you have in mind?”

“Act as if you’re begging me to save them.”

Good cop, bad cop, he thought. “Sergeant Spencer is probably a better actor, but okay.”

They approached together, and Cryder made the same suggestion to Hamilton and Oglesby. Oglesby immediately backed up while waving his hands.

“Please, sir! Let them go.”

Cryder grabbed his weapon and let it hang.

“What did they say so far?”

Hamilton also ducked back.

“They say we violated the cave, but they hadn’t realized we were so powerful.”

“That’s a good start. Tell them we had to talk to the gods and that was a good place.”

Hamilton nodded vigorously, turned and translated.

Outside the wards, the apparent leader glanced nervously at Cryder and replied very evenly.

Hamilton turned and said, “Sir, he says they didn’t know, but if they had they would certainly have made you welcome.”

Sean offered, “Why would we care if they made us welcome? They have nothing we need. You can lead up to giving them their trash back if they agree to never return here.”

Cryder nodded. “Very workable. Hamilton, tell them that first part.”

Again the vigorous nod and a hand wave, as Cryder fiddled with the weapon.

The soldier told them where things stood.

The Paleo looked sad and hurt, and replied at length.

Hamilton turned, “He says he’s humbly sorry for insulting you. He appreciates your mercy in not killing them all. I told him you could do so easily.”

“Good, give him the rest. Weapons back, never return.”

“Yes, sir.” The man turned and spoke.

The opposite replied, and Hamilton gave it as, “He says they are most thankful for your mercy, and offer any prayers or votives you wish, if anything of theirs is good enough not to offend a warrior so powerful.”

Sean said, “That’s better. We don’t need anything, but if they take the time to hunt us two fresh yearlings, it will prove they’re earnest. I say give them their stuff back, and if they don’t show up, who cares, and if they do, we know they were honest as well as intimidated.”

Cryder said, “I like it. I’ll talk for a moment to make it sound as if I’m considering it. Can you offer a polite bow? Then we’ll throw the stuff over the wards. Gently, but without any real respect for their toys.”

Sean bowed, and replied, “Good plan.”

Shortly they were tossing the bows and spears in high arcs, flat rather than point first. The natives caught them and quickly redistributed, calling names and handing them around, with obvious “That one’s mine” to several pieces. Then the quivers and spare arrows followed.

Cryder said, “Captain Elliott and I will return to the vehicles now. Please scavenge the loose arrows and tell them how lucky they are.”

“Hooah.”

As they walked, Cryder smiled at Sean and said, “Now I have to figure what to serve for dinner.”

Arnet called, “Already done, Shuff, with Dr. Sheridan helping. Rabbits as what she calls ‘pot pie.’ Stew in shell with cheese.”

“Sounds good.”

Caswell said, “I took it upon myself to order a few more log sections as seats, sir.” She pointed where sheared sections were supported by wedges around the fire, offering plenty of room.

“Thanks again, Sergeant,” he replied. She’d really shaped up. Last time she’d been an effective if nervous and angsty enlisted. She was doing well as an NCO this time, and far more self-assured and much less annoying. Either maturity or wisdom or both.

Sean said, “I want the guests to eat first.”

“Roger that,” Oglesby replied, took his tablet, and spoke into it. “Attention visiting warriors. We are serving dinner. Please join us and be welcome.”

They came over quickly but without rushing, probably to be polite but not appear needy. He waved them forward to be served by Caswell and Dalton.

He also wanted them first so he could keep an eye on them, and he didn’t want to lower the status of the recoverees below that of Dark Age barbarians. That would be cruel.

It was clear enough for everyone to gather around the fire and sit on logs. The Germans approved of the food and said so.

Oglesby said, “Sir, they’re asking about ale or beer.”

He replied, “I don’t know. Sergeant Spencer? Arnet?”

Spencer said, “Typical for their cultures. I don’t know if a rum mix will work. Is beer okay?”

Arnet replied, “I locked most choices out but they’re available.” He rose and went to the kitchen kit. He waved and keyed and shortly there were mugs. Right after that he started filling them.

“Someone else can carry it down,” he said as he came back and resumed his seat.

Apparently inferring the comment, two of the Germans ran up, grabbed six mugs each, returned, and repeated.

The mug was plain plastic, brownish with some color striations, and was full of a cool beverage that did taste like a dark beer, without being too bitter.

Spencer smacked lips and said, “Perfect. Hops were not really a thing, but herbs were.”

Apparently the men agreed. They raised mugs and toasted, and dug into the pies, bread, and beer.

They were also very pleased with berries and cream for dessert.

All in all it was a busy day.

Sean had Oglesby translate as he briefed.

“We’ll talk to them about plans tomorrow. We’ll need to finish our move shortly. For tonight I’d like people to hang out around the fire and talk a bit, since our guests have no idea how the technology works. Singing, talking in small groups, at least socialize in their presence so they’re not neglected. I’ll authorize an extra two drinks each. Sergeant Spencer, your judgment on how much they drink.”

Spencer nodded. “That seems reasonable, sir. We can explain it’s a field limit on transport.”

“Good. Normal watch for the evening. Dismissed.”


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