The Templar Chronicles: Freedom's Price

Private Connell lay awake, weak and weary. He and Caroline had been scouting the enemies’ positions for several days now. They had traded sleeping in the saddle every four hours to ensure that they had stayed out of radar range. They had been at it for days before finally receiving orders to meet up with reinforcements at the camp in which they now laid down their weary bodies. Connell had been shocked when the Templar Knight had been with the group that had arrived at the rally point in the early morning darkness. But after Jericho had explained the role the nine of them would play in the coming conflict, he had no longer felt reassured. After the long time they had spent out in the field, he did not much like the sound of being the meat in the grinder.

He and the others had pitched the camp only twenty meters outside of the range of the radar of the drones in the path that they expected them to take. The camp was all for show of course. One sentry, Jericho, stood waiting in the middle of the camp while the others “slept” in the tents that they had set up in a semi-circle. Then, theoretically, once the drones had moved into striking distance, Jericho, using his superior senses would alert not only those in the camp but the larger squads waiting relatively close by to the fight. It was not a great plan, and Connell did not want to be a part of it.

He lay facing Caroline whose eyes were closed. Connell knew that she was awake. She was a soldier born and bred, and she would not have willingly fallen asleep against orders. But seeing her lying there so peacefully, made him really want to allow himself to slip into the realm of dreams rather than stay in the more unpleasant reality. His eyes snapped open mere seconds later, startling him until he realized what had happened. This not being an encouraging sign to his own resolve, he sought another way to stay alert.

“Caroline?” he whispered as softly as he possibly could and still be heard over the sound of the crickets.

“Yes?” she responded immediately her eyes slowly opening into the semi-darkness of the moonlit tent. Her tone was not kind, but neither was it upset.

“I am falling asleep.”

“Well that figures. I was wondering how you were holding up, we have been out here a long time already, and you longer still.” Her voice was a soft as his and he believed they were not overheard.

He was glad that she was not judging him for not being as dedicated as she was to the service; she was not always the easiest person with whom to get along. She often criticized him for being what she called, “A mumbler to the skies.” She just did not put stock into the faith, and often ridiculed those around her that did despite, as she claimed, her best efforts not to. Connell, being intimidated by her attitude when he first came to the base, had never spoken to her about his own beliefs, but neither had he hidden his praying from her. He had and would not allow her disapproval to shame him into silence, “Yeah it has been quite a while since we’ve had a break.”

“Mmhmm.”

“How do you feel about this attack?”

“Well,” she hesitated before answering, giving thought to all the implications that the question posed. He could tell that she was also disturbed by what was expected of them, “It is not the worst plan, and Jericho seems perfectly capable of handling those machines out there.”

“I’ve heard rumors.”

“Oh?”

“Well those machines out there can bend steel with their bare hands. We do not have much of a chance in hand to hand combat, and our guns won’t work well on them.”

“I’ve heard that too.” Her voice was barely audible.

An edge of fear tinged his words, “Do you think we have a chance?” He had not wanted to psyche himself out, but at least he was awake now.

“Some of us will get out of this one. But, I think that we in this camp are gambling against long odds.” She was matter of fact, though her voice contained the cool edge of fear as well. Clearly, she was uncomfortable with tasting her own mortality, just as he was.

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“No,” she agreed. After a long pause, she said the last thing he would have expected, “Will you pray for me?”

“What?” he whispered back.

“Will you pray for me? I don’t want to go out on bad terms with God.”

“You never wanted to talk about him before.”

“I know, but now the situation feels different. This situation is bad…”

Connell sniffed, his surprise coming out despite the tension that laced the moment, “Suddenly decide there’s a God, huh?”

He could see her smile, a sudden row of white appearing in the tent; but it was in contrast to her sad, regretful tone, “I’ve known. I’ve always known that God was real, but I never wanted him to be real. That may not have been the best decision.”

Connell had heard this before; it was the typical story of the young and willful. He felt sudden intense affection towards this woman. They had severed together for a year, and intensely over the last few days. She was scared and so was he. This might be the last conversation either of them had on Earth, and she was willing to surrender her will, and possibly her life, to God as her last human act. He figured there was no better way to go out, “Of course I will pray with you Caroline, would you like me to pray, or would you prefer to speak the words yourself.”

“You better do it; I don’t really know what to say.”

“Sure you do, just say what is in your heart. God doesn’t really care about fancy words and nonsense. He is more interested in the intention.”

“Still, would you please?”

“If that is what you want…”

“It is.”

“Alright, just pray along silently with me.” He cleared his throat; he never dreamed that this is where this conversation would have taken him. “Dear God, thank you for sending your son to die for me. Thank you for dying so that I might live. Thank you for the men and women who have died in defense of Avalon to allow ups to come to this point. I know that I have been willful, that I have stood against you for a long time. I am not perfect, but you are. I am ready and willing to give myself over to you tonight.” He spoke from his heart rather than his mind, this prayer was as much to reaffirm his own dedication and faith as much as to confirm hers.

The next part of the prayer spilled directly from the part of his soul that was most afraid of the night and the beasts surrounding them, “God, our enemies are close. I am scared. We will soon meet them in battle, and we are not sure that we’ll live through it. Should you see fit to carry us through the night, may we live well and long in your service. But should you decide that our time has come,” his voice caught on this phrase, but he quickly recovered and continued, “then may we die well, in service to our country and to you. May the last thing we speak in this life be your name.”

“Amen” they both whispered together. The prayer was simple and direct, the sinners prayer of terrible fear and desperation, of eternal hope, when final knowledge was close at hand.

“I feel a lot better about this now.” A single tear leaked out of her eye and fell to the ground. It was dark and Connell could not see it, but he heard it hit the ground.

“Welcome to the faith, sister. See you when I see you.” As he finished this statement, Jericho gave a shout from the circle in between all the tents.

“They are upon us! Arise and defend your lives and Avalon!” His voice was sharp and powerful. Connell could feel it is his gut as much as his ears and he quickly sat up into a crouch. The sound of the camp’s immediate reaction jumbling together as many shouted out their defiance as they rushed from the tents.

Connell took one last look into the determined and fierce eyes of the newborn woman next to him. He set his jaw, his fear still gripped him, but to stay still was to die. He rose to his feet rushing through the tent’s entrance to join the others. He pulled the saber from the scabbard on his hip, and put drew his pistol in the other, running to join the circle in the center of the camp. There they all stood with their backs to one another. Connell could see rapidly approaching figures in the darkness outside the half ring of tents.

Jericho spoke quickly reminding them all of what they should do, “Make ready, when they come we will move in a clockwise motion. Prevent them from isolating any of us. Should anyone fall, move in, tighten the circle, and continue. Show no mercy for they have no pity in them. And remember, fight with the knowledge that help is on the way.” The Knight was the only source of light in the moonless dark. The battle glow was in and around him once more washing his eyes with an amber glow till they burned bright and fierce, filling the soldiers around him with a sudden surge of confidence as much in his abilities as from them.

Jericho huffed, “Shield your eyes!” He shot a set of flairs into the sky that illuminated the entire camp for the duration of the conflict.

As soon as they could see the field around them, they realized how serious the fight would be. There were dozens of drones, and they were soon hard pressed. The machines smashed through the camp in a direct line to the soldiers, knocking over the ramshackle tents as they charged. The soldiers began the swirling motion that they had planned. They shouted as one the battle cry of the Templar Order, “For ZIONNNN!!!!” The circle moved hard and quick, each soldier slashing, stabbing, and shooting, at the dozens of quick moving robots surrounding them. The androids were intimidating enemies, not speaking or crying out in reaction to the terrible blows they gave and that they were dealt in turn.

Jericho was the crux of the circle and the androids knew it, they avoided him as much as possible even though the soldiers were constantly moving. One of the androids got a hold of the woman on Connell’s left, she was from O’Riley’s command and he did not even know her name. He attempted to grab the back of her shirt, but the androids were too quick. She was ripped away from the circle. Connell watched in horror as she was lifted bodily overhead by the android and torn in half. Blood sprayed from the horrific wounds, and her organs spilled out on the ground. The woman’s final scream rent the night and made a lasting impression, they could not let these things touch them. Connell gagged and looked away already having to forget her as another android came up to attack him. He and the man next to Jericho moved and closed the circle not letting room for the androids to slip past them and wreak havoc on them from within their circle.

Connell slashed at the robotic arm that attempted to lay hold of his vest. The cut was deep but skated off the steel exoskeleton underlying the circuits and relays. He was fortunate he managed to cut the connections allowing communication to the hand. It fell limp at the side of the android, which quickly pulled away before he could do more serious damage. As he moved to his right following the motion of the others, another android attempted to stab Connell through the throat with a quick jab. Connell barley moved his sword into the path in time. The clash of the steel on steel was harsh and sparks flew off the blades. The impact was jarring; he barely moved the androids’ blade out the way of its killer path. The impact of the deflection left his arm lax and tingling. He could not lift his arm, so he kept the saber in a low guard and fired a few rounds into the android’s face, forcing it to withdraw a step. Connell swore mentally, Christ, these bastards are strong! The man on Connell’s right was next to fall. One of the androids threw his dagger into the man’s thigh. He cried out and fell backwards into the circle, which was the only thing that saved his life.

Connell glanced back at the fallen man to ensure that he was not in his way as he continued to maneuver. He caught a glimpse of Jericho in his righteous fury striking down an android. The instant that his eyes passed over Jericho his arm felt much better. This warm feeling of the Divine presence was deeply reassuring. Furthermore, he noticed that fighting with the Knight at his back had heightened his reflexes and speed. He was much better at swordplay with his dominant hand and relied on it more heavily than the pistol that he used only sparingly, since he would be unable to reload with the speed of the conflict. After another cycle through the merry-go-round of death, he caught the slap of the flat side of a sword on his left shoulder, which made an audible crunch, and his arm went slack and he dropped his pistol. He snarled and slashed at the android, but was already moving to the right with the motion of the circle.

Not looking good, he thought as he felt warm blood drip down his arm. Where the hell is the damn cavalry already? Another android attempted to attack him from his weak side, he hacked at the monster, but the machines were growing impatient with their tactics. Instead of going for the man, it went for his weapon. Connell’s saber was ripped out of his hand. The android bent the blade in half and threw it over his shoulder. Connell was defenseless.

He moved to his right with the circle once more, drawing his combat knife prepared to use his good arm and the blade against whatever came next. A chance he did not get. An android slashed at his thigh as he stepped to the right. The blade cut through his armor easily tearing his muscle and sinew all the way to the bone, he could not imagine the force behind such a blow. He immediately stumbled and fell forward. Caroline reached for him, attempting to halt his fall and push him into the center with the other wounded man, but was too slow. He was amongst the androids now on one knee, one arm limp, bleeding profusely from the wound on his ruined leg, and moderately from the one on his shoulder.

He whipped the knife back and forth, attempting to fend off the androids closing in around him. There were two of them and they stepped right through his weak blows, knocking the blade out of his hand with ease. Desperate, he tried to punch the approaching machine with all the strength he had left. His blow simply bounced off the hard machine, leaving him with bruised and split knuckles as if he had hit a wall instead. He looked up into the emotionless face, into the soulless eyes of the machine that was going to kill him. The android did not waste time with gory theatrics as its comrade had, this one stabbed Connell in the heart with one sure blow and turned back to the other humans who were still a threat.

Connell fell on his side, his eyes fixed on the glowing form of Jericho. He knew that it would take a few minutes for him to suffocate or bleed to death, that he had a few more moments on this Earth, but he knew it was over. Had he been able to cry he would have, but all the moisture was seeping out of his veins rather than his eyes. His vision darkened, or was it the flares running out? He was not sure. But he saw briefly, when the night got brighter.

The floodlights on the top of the APCs suddenly, intensely illuminated the shattered and blood covered campsite. Dozens of soldiers were pouring out of the vehicles and charging towards the androids. Connell’s last vision on earth was the view of stampeding feet and the bright red flashes of the high-impact, energy rounds. As his vision truly darkened, the glow around Jericho’s body held out the longest burned against his retina. There was a moment of pure darkness when his eyes could no longer see. His mind panicked, desperately trying to open his eyes again but to no avail. Connell was terrified, confused, alone, and he could not move anything. Finally, he heard a small, warm voice whispered in his ear, “It is time to come home.”

≠ ≠ ≠

The battle raged on, Captains O’Riley and Grom’s arrival was perfectly coordinated and the remaining androids seeing that the battle was no longer in their favor turned back the way they had come and attempted to flee. The humans were not able to keep up with them on foot but it did not matter much, the snipers and their high-powered energy weapons soon took care of the routed machines. The focused energy beams sliced through the machines leaving them little more than sophisticated scrap. The machines dodged and weaved away from the soldiers; desperately trying to use their superior speed and grace to out maneuver the cross fire in which they were caught. Almost all of the machines were sliced to ribbons by the energy rounds, but two managed to get outside of the ring of snipers’ kill zone. This was exactly what Jericho had feared would happen. He had to act quickly if he wanted to prevent the entire operation’s failure. He turned to charge towards the corral, but there was no need. Charlemagne was by his side in an instant having not been tied up like the other horses, and sensing that he was needed.

Jericho mounted quickly and went in pursuit of his escaping enemies. The battle-aura still burned within and around him, the bright light of Heaven lit his way. The charger was more than a match even for the swift robots and their concealing, black cloaks. Charlemagne caught up to them only a few moments after they had passed through the line of the snipers. Jericho threw his spear hitting one of the androids through the chest. Such was the force of the blow that the spear passed all the way through the machine and a few feet into the ground as well. The android struggled, pinned to the ground. The remaining drone tried to veer off Charlemagne’s path and disappear into the darkness, but the horse anticipated the move and kept Jericho in line with the robot. Jericho drew the short sword from his hip and took his feet out of the stirrups. He sat crouched on the horses back waiting. When Charlemagne had brought them, close enough to the android Jericho sprung off the back of his mount tackling the android. His full weight pulled them both to the ground.

The move was reckless and could have ended in disaster, but Jericho had landed on top of the machine rather that it having been the other way around. He had leverage and the superior position and was standing on the android’s sword. He made short work of the machine and left its broken pieces lie. Charlemagne made a small circle slowing his gallop to a trot and returning to Jericho’s side. The knight’s furor began to lift the light fading from him once more, restoring the darkness to the night around them. He patted the horse’s flank and whispered, “Well done my friend, there is not a bird in the sky that can match your speed on the field.”

The two of them walked back to the site where the only remaining functioning android was still trying to pull itself off the spear; but it was too far in the ground for it to get a proper angle order to grasp the shaft. Jericho walked slowly towards the bedraggled creature and stood just outside of its reach. He considered it for a moment, his hand clenching and unclenching around the handle of his sword. “Now answer me, I know you can talk so there is no point and pretending that you cannot. Where is your base and who is your master?”

The machine stopped struggling against the spear and turned its head a full one hundred and eighty degrees to look at Jericho. Its voice was mechanical and alien but it spoke coherently if derisively, “You have nothing to threaten with me, angel lapdog. I will never tell you a thing. End it.”

Jericho had not honestly believed that the android programmed by demons would have been intimidated into revealing something willingly. He simply wanted to give the sentient being a chance to change, even if he believed it could not. He nodded and threw his short sword into the small of the machines back where the power supply was located several inches under steel. The blade sunk through with tremendous force. The android twitched and fell still, a small cloud of smoke rising from the hole that Jericho had made in its exoskeleton.

“Well now let us see what we can see.” Jericho moved closer to the now inoperable hulk, and began fiddling with it in the dark. He sighed to himself in frustration and stood up straight once more. He moved back towards Charlemagne and removed the lantern that was in the saddlebags. He switched it on, its fusion battery immediately illuminating the area with a brilliant and warm golden light. He hung the lantern from the saddle and requested that Charlemagne stand as close as he could to the broken machine in front of them. The animal responded quickly and with the light, Jericho was able to go about his work much more quickly. He removed his sword with one sharp tug and placed it back in its leather scabbard on his hip. He was content to leave the spear as it was for now as it placed the android at a more convenient height.

He took out a fine bladed knife from a small medical kit on his hip and slowly began cutting away burnt out circuits and useless or redundant boards in the area around the base of the neck of the android. He was extremely careful; he did not know what kind of security measures the androids may have against tampering and he did not want to lose an eye or finger to carelessness. He hated getting them replaced through tedious medical procedures. Four times was too many.

He was pleased to find that the motherboard was intact inside of the android. He had only had to disable two fail-safes before proceeding and they had not been overly difficult just tedious. Before he went to remove the board from the body, he stopped. He saw a small circuit running through it that was attached to nothing in particular. It struck him as strange and he took the time to analyze it before proceeding. He chuckled once to himself and whispered, “Very clever demons, very clever, but I am clever too.”

He hooked up the motherboard to the power source of his lantern. He ensured that the current through the circuit was unbroken after finally cutting the wires holding it in place. Jericho slowly removed it from the Android’s broken form. He smiled as he successfully pulled the golf-ball sized object free and set it and the connecting wires into a small bag hanging from Charlemagne’s saddle. Standing up and stretching he sighed content, Ah, a true success. This will make it possible to save those people out there. I am impressed, the demons rarely require that a current constantly be passing through a motherboard to prevent it from frying, they are getting more cautious. Or maybe only this one is. Jericho turned back to the android and removed the spear from the ground, by placing his boot on the body’s back and heaving with both hands as hard as he could. Even still, it was a moment or two before the spear actually came free. He walked back towards the horse sighing and breathing a little heavily, curse my old age! That would have been easy, even twenty years ago. He mounted Charlemagne bending down to his companion’s ear, “Take us back to the others. They will be wondering about us by now, but go slowly. We have delicate cargo at the moment.”

They arrived back in the floodlit camp ten minutes later. The snipers and soldiers were all there cleaning up the mess and seeing to the wounded. When they moved into the circle of light Captain Grom moved forward to address him. The man came close to the horse’s side not wanting to say what he had to say so loudly that the soldiers could overhear. “That was not a smart thing you did Knight. Running off like that without backup farther into no-man’s-land…you could have been riding into a trap yourself.”

Jericho dismounted and began walking side by side with the Captain back towards the others. “Thank you for your concern Captain, but it had to be done. I managed to track down the two androids who escaped our makeshift perimeter and dealt with them accordingly.”

“Still, I was about to send a search party after you. Please don’t do that again while you are with us.” Grom’s voice was strained. Clearly, he did not enjoy the notion of trying to explain to the Templar High Command about how one of their Knights had disappeared into the night.

Jericho chuckled at the statement, as he understood fully the Captain’s concerns, “I promise you Captain that will be the last time that I run off leaving you behind.”

“Good” The Captain visibly relaxed, knowing that Jericho was a man of his word.

“Now, what is the damage?” Jericho was did not really want to know, but had a responsibility to know just how many soldiers had died or suffered under his command.

“Five dead, three from your command two from mine, there are also three wounded from Emily’s company.” Jericho was interested by the fact that Grom had dropped the pretexts of formality when referring to Captain O’Riley. Something must be bothering him.

“Well at least the casualties were light Captain. Are the wounded in critical condition?”

“No sir, they are just fine, one small gash, and two breaks easily set and non-debilitating.”

“Pleased to hear that Captain, anything else?”

“We have already begun grave detail on the dead, they will be buried within the hour, but we have another problem that is a little more important than that right now.” Grom stopped by a group of huddled soldiers over a fallen hunk of metal. Captain O’Riley was there and she nodded to them as they approach. She was holding a lantern for the soldiers working carefully beneath its glow. Her face was grim and determined and it seemed that she was frustrated with whatever was going on in front of her.

Before Jericho could look at what the soldiers were so delicately handling Grom spoke to him again, “The issue is that there are only six hulks left over from the androids with their processors intact. Every time we have attempted to remove them they have come out just fine, but then immediately after, they burn out, leaving us with another useless piece of metal. This is the fifth hulk I have had the ‘techs’ work on. We are not optimistic.”

Jericho smiled as the Captain finished his summary. The technically apt soldiers, who were really more like people who knew more about cars than their neighbors, were just removing the processor from the broken hulk. As soon as they had, it out, a small spark came off the board and it sizzled. “Son of a bitch!” one of the soldiers spat. The others grumbled in agreement. The soldier holding the smoldering motherboard threw the board away and stood up straight, the movement jerky in his anger.

Jericho laughed loud and heartily, the soldiers stared at him and began to grumble about him. They were not in the mood to be laughed at. When the tension coiled in his chest finally had eased, he continued, “That is alright Gentleman, Captain; I know what the issue is.” All their eyes snapped to his face at these words, their grumbling over. “Destroy the last functioning motherboard in the remaining robot so that it cannot be salvaged should the enemy find it.”

“Are you sure sir?” Grom asked, incredulous. Jericho walked over and removed the humming blinking motherboard attached to the little generator.

He showed it to the Captains and to the techs standing about, “I am very sure, Captain.”

Grom smiled, suddenly appreciating the situation, “As you command mighty one, carry on gentleman.” The three men and two women walked away grumbling about the time they had wasted when there were other things they could have been doing. Jericho chuckled again, and what else would they have rather been doing in the middle of a dark field two hours before sunrise, I wonder? O’Riley drew closer to them. She still seemed frustrated, but her face was no longer wrinkled by frustration.

“Well what is our next move?” She asked of the knight.

Jericho pondered that question a moment. He looked at his wrist readout; it was four thirty in the morning, “Well friends it is too early in the morning for the Archivist to be in his office, and it is to him that I need to speak.”

Grom huffed, “Really there is no one else that could help us with this who would be available now?”

Jericho studied the motherboard in his right hand, “Oh, I am sure that there is, but no one who would be able to figure this out in the few we have before we should strike later this very morning.”

“Will the Archivist really be available to help us?” O’Riley asked, voice brightening. Jericho smiled; the Archivist had quite the reputation. Supposedly, he never slept, constantly busy with one project or another and the common citizen would wait for months just to secure an appointment with him, and even then he was not always able to take on the new tasks that they presented to him, no matter how enticing. Instead, they had to be satisfied with his many hundreds of equally qualified, if less brilliant, associates.

Jericho tucked the board back into his saddlebag, “Oh, James and I are old friends, besides he owes me for the work I did for him last year.” O’Riley appeared visibly impressed. Even amongst the Knights, it was unusual to be on familiar terms with someone as important as the head of the Templar Archives. “Very well then Captains, here is what we will do. The Archivist gets into his office around two hours from now. Let us pitch a temporary camp right here where we had the false one. Post several sentries, this is going to be a hot spot for at least the next few days.”

“If that is true why don’t we move a little first before setting up camp?” Grom asked, his voice strained.

“I do not want to risk damaging the motherboard by moving any farther than we already have. Delicate circuitry does not often hold up well when taking a cross country trek on horseback or in off-roading vehicles like the APCs.”

Grom nodded, even if his expression remained dark, “Very well, we will have half the men stay up and the other half bed down. How long do you expect us to be here?”

“We should not be here past midmorning, perhaps by this time tomorrow we will be safely back in our own borders.”

The Captains did not speak they simply saluted and moved off to carry out their orders. Jericho smiled at their retreating figures. He whispered to the horse who had remained at his side, “I am pleased that they question me, it makes me think that the officers down here are worth the effort.” He scratched Charlemagne’s neck and moved after the Captains walking as slowly as possible to protect his precious cargo.

The soldiers were quick to set up the temporary camp, only taking them fifteen minutes to set up tents sufficient enough for half of the soldiers to be asleep while the other half stood guard. Jericho did not even have a tent with him this time; he was content to sleep under the stars with Charlemagne’s saddle and blanket as his pillow. He checked his watch one more time before shutting his eyes to ensure that his alarm would wake him up in time to speak with the Archivist when he arrived. He typed a quick message out on the keyboard and sent it to both James’s personal inbox and the Archives main desk. That way, even if he accidentally slept through, they would know to call and wake him.

Jericho did not fall asleep right away. The hustle and bustle of the camp was a bit noisy at the moment. The soldiers were driving the APCs around one side of the camp into a semi-circle to provide cover both against the wind on the open plains and against potential attacks. The men and women were talking loudly trying to lay down supplies as quickly and efficiently as possible, but he was sure that all the noise would abate soon, besides it did not matter. Still, Jericho could sleep through almost anything. He laid his head back against the rough cloth and the hard saddle and let his mind slide out of concentration. He was asleep within minutes.

≠ ≠ ≠

The pair of Captains was not going to sleep that night; they sat awake in the officers’ tent with the lieutenants and sergeants discussing the coming day’s activities. “Well gentlemen I have no idea what tomorrow holds in store for us.” Grom’s voice was tired but set in the knowledge of the work to come.

“It seems that the operation now hinges on whether or not the Archivist can crack the android’s motherboard from several hundred kilometers away over radio contact with Jericho.” Captain O’Riley chimed in.

One of the sergeants looked up from his paperwork, “What can that tell us?”

O’Riley looked over at the man, “The location of the demon’s operational headquarters. We figure it is anywhere within sixty square kilometers of our present location.”

The man continued, “Mam, and what would be our mission once we had that information?”

Lieutenant Daniel fielded the answer to this question, “That will be up to Jericho to decide, but I am sure that it will involve storming the compound, saving the prisoners inside it, and killing anything that gets in our way.”

The sergeant blanched at the thought of trying to kill a demon and its servants… the result could well be the exact opposite. Grom smiled grimly at them all, “Regardless, we are soldiers of Avalon, and it will not be the first time that I have stood in battle against the demons and their servants. The Templar have beaten them before, and Jericho is one of the finest that I have ever seen. He will lead us to victory. Have no doubts friends.”

O’Riley waited until the men and women around them returned to the work that they had ahead of them, some of them leaving to stand watch, others returning to the paperwork that had been in with them for days already. When all the soldiers had more or less returned to the mundane tasks that they had been assigned, she looked sideways at Grom. He had never expressed this much confidence in Jericho before and she was concerned that he did not believe his own words.

He was busy staring at a report that had been handed to him by Lieutenant Daniel, but he felt her looking at him. He raised his head slowly and caught her expression. Grom winked at her playfully. She smiled at him subtly as his eyes dropped back to the report; of course, he believed that Jericho could defeat the demon. The Templar had done it before, many times. Grom’s reason for stating his belief in Jericho had only been to steady the fears of those around them, it was bad for morale to have officers badmouthing the plans of their superiors. The two of them turned to the unpleasant work of reorganizing the squads now that they were short another half dozen troops. They both knew that this could take a while and set about the task immediately.

They worked through the various assignments and paperwork that had to be accomplished for the two companies to continue working together smoothly. By the time that they had moved on to refueling and refitting the soldiers in the camp, the sun had come up and the guard had changed once amongst those standing around the perimeter of the camp.

≠ ≠ ≠

An annoying buzzing began on the wrist of the sleeping Knight. It only took about a minute for it to actually wake him up, but he was not pleased when it did. Another two hours’ sleep would have been nice, but there was work to do. He got up quickly and went to the latrine that the soldiers had dug in the earlier hours of the night. When he had washed his hands with the water in one of the APCs, he returned to Charlemagne and took out the still humming motherboard.

Jericho walked towards the communications tent in the center of the camp next to the command tent. Captain O’Riley was there with one of her men relaying back to the compound the news of the conflict and ensuring that those still at the compound were alive and well. “Good morning, Captain, Private. I will need the room for a while if that will be possible.”

O’Riley turned and looked at Jericho her eyes fatigued with dark circles beginning to form under them. She sighed and nodded to the Private; the man got up and left. “Good morning to you as well, Knight. I hope that your appointment goes smoothly. Let us know when you are ready to begin the next phase of the operation.”

“Will do, Captain. Please, try to get some rest. I do not want you falling asleep when I need everyone alert.”

She smiled at him wearily as she moved outside, “No promises.” She meant it as a joke. Jericho obliged her with a chuckle as she walked out.

He sat down on the stool that they had brought along with them for this very role. He switched on the audio and video output and input devices. The holographic display sprang to life around him and he quickly entered his access codes into the Templar network as the system scanned his DNA and retina profile for authentication. As soon as this was completed, a coms-traffic coordinator answered the call. A floating image of the upper shoulders and head of a man with headgear on appeared before him. He spoke quickly and automatically as though spending so much time around machines had begun to rub off on the way his voice sounded, “Zion mainframe, what can I do for you today, Knight Jericho?”

“Good morning dispatch, please connect me to the Templar Archives.”

“Which office or department?”

“The Archivist’s office.”

“Right away.”

His image disappeared, replaced with a floating message, “call forwarding” accompanied by the sound of a lightly ringing bell. About ten seconds later, James the Archivist appeared. He was a plain man with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was smiling when he answered; it had been some time since he and Jericho had spoken. “Ah Jericho, so pleased to hear from you again. How have you been?” His voice was gregarious and full. Had this not been a business meeting, Jericho would have loved to engage him in small talk.

“I am well enough James, but this is not a social call.”

“I had wondered about that, it seems that you never call just to say hello anymore.”

The statement was playful, and Jericho smiled and laughed softly in reply, “Well, who am I to bother someone as important and popular as Archivist James the Wise?”

James guffawed in response, “You know I do not like that title, and that I always have time for old friends. After all what were all those years we spent working together for, hmm?”

“Well I assume that they were to better the nation...” Jericho’s smile did not dim and James could not help but laugh aloud at him. Jericho did not seem it, but he was one of the best researchers in the game.

“So what is it that I can do for you today?” James let the laughter fall out of his voice to be replaced with a business like flair, but he did not stop smiling. Jericho seemed to bring that out in him.

“I have something new for you.” Jericho held up the motherboard up so that it would appear in the projection James was seeing.

“Oh and what is that? It looks like a motherboard from something. Did you fry out another computer Jericho?”

“No nothing like that. This is a motherboard from a type four hunter-seeker android. On it are the whereabouts of a demon that has been hounding our borders, and possibly the locations of several prisoners that he has taken. The technology is quite advanced and may be difficult to crack.”

James’s eyes lit up. The man loved any challenge, especially since he did not have as many as he used to, “Type four eh? Well we have only just begun analysis into those buggers, but as of yet we have not had the privilege of a functioning motherboard. How long can you give me, Jericho?”

“Well that is the issue James. Time is of the essence. If we do not move quickly enough with this, then we may not be able to rescue anybody or even to stop the demon from escaping. That is why I called you rather than going through one of your subordinates, I need the best help I can get on this one.”

James frowned at this, “So that leaves me with say the next four hours then?”

Jericho nodded, “Is that enough time?”

“Oh it should be plenty; it is just that I had some other things planned for this morning, you know? I have several interesting projects going right now. An expedition to the north of Judah discovered an old library with many of its books still intact though in delicate condition. We are working right now to transcribe as much as possible from them into the Archives as we can. It is fascinating stuff apparently this library was something important once, maybe even records from the old government that used to occupy this land.”

The Archivist had succeeded in distracting himself with his loves again. He would have continued to inform Jericho of all that the new find contained, but Jericho smiled, “I am sure that it is all quite interesting, but I need to know if I should go to Luke or to David with this issue.”

James looked confused for a moment and then remembered what they had originally been talking about, “No. That will not be necessary. I will take care of this personally. It is not like those books are going anywhere, right?”

“Right.” Jericho laughed.

“Now plug that little gadget into the mainframe and watch me work my magic.”

Jericho held up a hand, “Be sure to take full security and quarantine measures with this one James. It is demon make after all.”

The Archivist nodded, “Right, standby.” He tapped on unseen displays for a moment, “Ready.”

Jericho turned around and plugged the mother board into the telecommunications device via a saturated output plug in that looked like a small clip, but was really a dense network of electrical connections linked through the coms really all the way back to Zion. When he turned back around James was already receiving the signal on his computer that was to the left of the screen with Jericho on it, his eyes scrunched in concentration. Jericho let him look at the readout uninterrupted for almost two whole minutes before finally saying, “First impressions?”

“Well,” James did not take his eyes off what he was reading, “It is definitely more advanced than the other devices in the field, and there is encoding here that I have not seen before now. The encryption appears to be very basic, but that could be a ruse. This will take a while, should I call you back or do you want to stay on the line?” He turned his head to look at Jericho once more.

“No, no, I do not want to distract you; I know you work better with quiet. Call me back when you are done.”

“Alright Jericho,” James looked back at the computer screen and beginning to click and type, “This should not take more than three hours, do not let anybody bump that thing over there or I might lose the connection. If you can stick around that site and ensure that it all stays together.”

“Can do, and James.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking the time to do this for me.”

James looked back at him and smiled widely, “I live to serve all believers.”

Jericho laughed heartily, “Talk to you soon James.”

“Tah tah, for now.” With that, Jericho switched off the connection to the Archivist’s office. The display flashed once “transmission terminated” and then went dark, the surrounding displays lights seeming brighter with the sudden absence. Jericho turned around on the stool and sat facing the motherboard. His expression as he thought grew darker and darker.

Captain O’Riley returned only three minutes into his morose pondering. She opened the flap slowly and slightly to see if Jericho had completed his call, and if he wanted to eat breakfast with the officers. She was caught by the man’s expression. He looked so much older and sadder than the man she had come to know over the past few days. His eyes were glassy and far away, he looked like he was in pain, as if someone had told him that, a loved one had died but was attempting to keep the emotions buried below the surface. She was caught for a moment between the idea of going into speak with him or leaving him in peace. She paused, everyone needs to talk sometime, and clearly something is bothering him…I hope he won’t get upset. She moved into the tent with one smooth motion to belie the fact that she had seen him upset.

Jericho looked up at her, his expression immediately softening returning to his normal expression. She was almost fooled for a moment, but the sadness had not run out from his eyes quickly enough. They still looked like they were carrying the weight of the world. She sat down across from him on the table covered with papers, careful not to knock about the humming motherboard. “Jericho what is wrong?” Her voice was careful and laden with respect but also with compassion.

Jericho rubbed his nose and sniffed, “Are you sure you want to know that Captain, it is not your burden to bear?”

“If something is bothering you it is better not to bottle it up inside to unleash on people when they and you least expect it.”

It was good down to earth wisdom. Jericho smiled at her, “Thank you for your concern Captain, if you really must know?”

“Oh, I must, I must.”

“I am afraid.”

She sat back in surprise, Afraid? Afraid of what? What could possibly give this man pause? He could take everyone in and around this camp apart without so much as breaking a sweat. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

He looked into her eyes not saying anything for a moment. “Despite what you may think or what the stories say about us Captain, the Templar are human. We fear. We dream. We aspire. We lust. We are human through and through. I am afraid of the coming conflict. Afraid for you. Afraid for Grom. Afraid for all those who are under my command that could die as the result of my haphazard plan. But more than that, I am afraid of fighting this demon. I do not know who he is or what he is capable of. He could dispatch me without a second thought and then either kill or enslave all of those that I have sworn to defend. In short, I am afraid that I will fail you all so horribly as to lead to your terrific pain, and my everlasting shame and disgrace.”

O’Riley looked at this man with new appreciation. He had always seemed so calm, so collected, so immune to the horrible things that were always going on around him. “Jericho.” She moved forward and hugged him around the neck, a serious breach of protocol, but one neither really noticed in that moment. Tears sprang into her eyes for this man who had taken on so much to save people he had never known.

She held the embrace for a few seconds and then pulled away returning to her original position across from him. She had something to say, something she felt he needed to hear, but she was not sure that she knew what words to use. She prayed silently, God, let me be your voice. “Jericho,” he met her eyes, his expression empty, “no matter what happens today or tomorrow you have served both God and your people well. You are one of the most dedicated Knights that I have ever seen, and I don’t doubt for an instant that you will be able to defeat whatever is before us.”

“That is all well and good…” Jericho began, but O’Riley cut him off.

“Even should you fail, and all of us should die or be enslaved, it would not matter. God has a plan just like you do; he won’t do or allow anything that is not part of his grand machinations for the world. Do you understand? Not a single one of us blames you for the deaths of the men and women we love. We as soldiers understand the risks involved in the service, what’s more we have come to expect them. If you had not been here last night, or if you hadn’t been at the base when the Thralls attacked. Every single person under Grom’s command would be dead right now. Those men and women out there,” she gestured with a sweeping motion with her hand pointing at the tent flap, “Are alive because of you.” She pointed at his chest, her voice forceful now. “I don’t want to hear anymore nonsense about how you feel responsible for the deaths of twenty men and women. The only one responsible for their deaths is that demon out there, and you are going to bring him to justice.” Her voice was full of conviction as she chastised this man who not only outranked her, but was probably seven times her age if not more.

A single tear slipped down Jericho’s dark cheek. He smiled broadly, his voice delicate, “Thank you for your words, Captain. It is true that I should stop feeling sorry for myself; there is not enough time in the day for what I need to do and for misplaced sorrow. God is in control, he knows what to do.”

She saw that the sadness had completely gone from his eyes; they were warm and friendly again just as they should be. “You are welcome, Knight. I expect you to do the same should I ever be in a similar situation.”

Jericho got to his feet, “Certainly. Captain, are you going to be staying here for a while?”

“Well I had originally come in to offer you breakfast with the other officers, but I could keep an eye on the device if you would like to go and come back.”

“Well yes, that was exactly what I was going to ask. I will go and grab a plate and some tea and I will be right back to allow you to leave. I should not be five minutes.”

She waved him out of the tent and took his place on the stool. She thought to herself, Hell of a way to start a day. She paused and shook her head laughing softly. Well, it might also turn out to be one Hell of an afternoon.

Gawain woke up at eight in the morning to the small jingle of the alarm clock next to his head. He looked over at it and switched it off. He sat up rubbing his eyes wondering why something seemed wrong about this time of day. He got up and put his shirt on, went to the bathroom and came back to put his shoes on. Before he had gotten both socks on, he remembered what was odd about eight in the morning. This is the time I am normally supposed to get up to report to the stables, but there were no horses in the stables this morning, in fact there were not even many people in the base this morning. Gawain smiled at his own forgetfulness, it had been too late last night for him to remember to switch off the alarm that was superfluous.

The problem now, was that he was awake. He would have been unable to go back to sleep even if he had lain back down and shut his eyes. Once he was up. He was up. Well, he thought, I guess it’s breakfast time. He finished putting on his right sock. Then he began to unwrap the bandage from around his leg, it was the last day that he had to keep it on. He took a moment to look at the stitches; I hope that they will be back soon. I am sure that these have to come out sooner or later and I don’t want to try that myself. He put on his boots and stood gingerly to his feet testing the toughness and elasticity of the threads in his leg. Everything seemed all right and he set off towards the kitchen.

Four people were already in the room, which constituted the majority of those on base. Gawain could see through the serving window the cook standing leisurely against the preparation tables inside the kitchen. He smiled to himself, what a contrast from just the day before when the man was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. He took in the rest of the room; two men sat together talking about the latest news about sports, politics, and the like. They did not hold his attention for long, Angela was sitting two tables away from them and she was waving him over.

He waved back to show that he had seen her and moved towards the kitchen. “Good morning.” Despite the military nature of the base, with only a sergeant left in charge, things felt less formal.

“Good morning yourself, what can I get for you today?” The man was bored, but he was relaxed. It was evident in his posture and tone.

“Well, I could use some of those eggs and maybe a little toast if you are feeling up to it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” the man mocked, “It seems like the rush got here before you and they carried off all our warm food. Sorry you are going to have to stick to cold cereal and biscuits.”

Gawain elongated the syllables, emphasizing the sarcasm, “Oh no, whatever shall I do?”

The cook laughed and quickly threw together what Gawain had asked for. “Here you go, enjoy.” He handed Gawain a plate positively filled with scrambled eggs, bacon and two slices of toast. Big breakfast, he thought as he walked towards the liquid dispensers nearby.

He filled up his cup with milk and then sat down with Angela, “Good morning Angela.”

“Morning.” She smiled and sipped at her tea once more. She looked very well rested for probably having only slept five hours. That puzzled Gawain, how did she always manage to look so good even after the unpleasant events of the past evening. Gawain did not really care, she was here and she was pleased to see him, he began to eat.

When he had finished about half of the food in front of him, she asked, “And what are your plans for this day?”

Gawain chewed what was left in his mouth and swallowed, “Well to be honest I hadn’t really thought about it. What do you have going for you today?”

“Hmm, we all have light duty today. Especially you. None of your regular assignments are really needed right now, and mine aren’t either. What do you say to a hike in the woods? It should be a nice this afternoon, even though it is supposed to rain later.”

“That sounds great, when did you want to do that?” Gawain was eager. He enjoyed spending time with her, and he was pleased that she had initiated this plan. He did not really know how much was too much when it came to her emotions and their generally frail condition.

“Well this morning I have to inventory both armories, so that we know exactly how much there is, before the rest of the company gets back with whatever is left over from the operation. That should take a while, but I am free all afternoon.”

“Well, I don’t have anything to do either this morning or this afternoon. Would you like some help with the inventories?” He wanted to do anything he could to pass the time that was not cooking or cleaning, and the thought of spending even more time with Angela was definitely a plus.

“Yes, I would like that very much.” The conversation relapsed into silence as both of them began to eat again. She finished her meal long before him. As he ate, she was content to sit and watch him. Before long, he was done and they got up and left the kitchen. The two other men who were still heatedly discussing which of their favorite teams was likely to win the championship that year.

The two of them went to the armory in the base, and then later to the one where Angela lived. They passed that morning in peace and comfort. The day was a day to be enjoyed and whiled away with someone that you got along with, or someone about whom you cared. They reached the armory swiftly and slowly began the tedious task of reading the box labels that were still sealed, and counting contents of the ones that were open.

Their conversations over boxes of ammo, and racks of bayonets were not serious or overly meaningful. They were getting to know more about each other, their likes and dislikes, what they had in common, what they didn’t. The morning was full of laughter and smiles. Later both remembered it as the time when their relationship was easiest.

The Archivist had called back around 10:15 that same morning. He had explained to the still waiting Jericho what he had had to do to break the encoding shielding the robot’s processor, but Jericho had never been much of a programmer. His skills were primarily useful in the technical aspects of the realm of electronics. He nodded politely as James attempted to explain just what a feat it was for him to have been able to break through something of this magnitude. James was quite excited, explaining how the technology that they had discovered in the android’s “brain” could easily be adapted to serving Avalon to a greater degree if they could only figure out a way to change the encoding so that it was not based on the demons’ foul language and leave them vulnerable to hacking. This was all well and good, but Jericho had not captured the android’s motherboard just so that the Templar Archives would have a new toy to play with for the next few years.

“Well Jericho it was not easy, but it is done.” James gestured, making his hand into a tiny pistol and firing it at Jericho’s image. “I am sending you the location of the demon’s compound. It is a ruin some thirty kilometers south of your position, if you plug in the coordinates into your wrist readout and into the navigation systems in the APCs you should be able to find it without any issues.”

“Thank you very much James, exactly for what I had hoped.” Jericho’s voice hummed with energy as he prepared to go.

“Well friend anything else I can do for you before you run off?” James seemed hopeful that Jericho would have been able to produce another piece of difficult technology for him to tackle.

“No, no, I have already taken enough of your time today.” Jericho moved to end the call but James held up his hand to halt his progress. “Is there something you needed Archivist?”

“I had a question to ask you before you rushed into battle once more.”

“Oh, and what is it that you would like to ask?”

“I was wondering when you were going to give up this life of ceaseless adventure and danger, and come back here where you belong?” James was completely serious, though his voice maintained his usual tone of levity and disinterest.

“You know that I have a few more years before retirement James.”

The Archivist waved his hand dismissingly, “Pish tush! We both know that if you requested to be transferred this morning, it would be cleared and stamped by this afternoon. Why do you not come here to the place where you can get real and lasting work done, where your skills can truly be used to their full potential, not just riding about hacking at various machines, beasts, and their masters?”

“I like to think that what I have done and what I am doing, is the best service that I can give to the people. I believe that I owe them that much after all they have given me. The masses do not exist for us to rule, we exist to protect them. We have been lifted above the life of the mundane in order to ensure their safety. Do the people not deserve everything I can give of myself to them?”

“Yes they do,” James raised his finger as if he were going to lecture a child about responsibility, “but not at the expense of wasting a brilliant mind like yours Jericho. But you know my opinion. The job is here waiting for you when you want it.” They had had this conversation several times already. Neither of them was willing to budge on this point.

Jericho was sure of himself, “Then as always, I will be accepting that position when I retire from active duty. So you only have to wait a little longer, I will be available to you in fewer than eight years.”

James sighed, he had lost the argument again just as he always had and probably always would, “Well then friend, adieu. Fortune in battle.”

Jericho smiled at the well-meaning man. “May God live in your heart, brother.”

“May the light of Heaven guide yours.” James switched off the communication from his end. Jericho grinned and turned off the various machines that he had been using to speak with the Archivist. They now had a place to go along with the illusive demon, that is if he is still there. He may have scarpered off in the night. He may just be that crafty. He rose to his feet and exited the tent making a beeline for the officers’ tent not three meters away.

He swept back the flap and entered to find two sergeants and Captain Grom having a conversation about something or other going on in the company. “We have our coordinates, now we must plan the attack.”

Grom got to his feet at once, he spoke to the sergeants sitting in front of him, “Get out there at once, recollect all the command staff, sound the officers’ corps. We need everyone here as soon as possible for one last planning meeting.” The two men ran out, and in a minute, the sound of a steady drumbeat could be heard throughout the camp. Grom did not say anything while they waited, perfectly content to wait in silence with Jericho. The two men set the chairs inside the tent in a circle. They sat down opposite each other, both of their sets of eyes focused on the entrance to the tent.

The officers began arriving in ones and twos. They came in breathless but did not ask questions when they felt the attitude of those gathered around them. No one wanted to break the silence hanging over those already gathered. O’Riley and the two sergeants were the last to enter. The two men sat down in the ring and Captain O’Riley sealed the entrance to the tent and placed a short table across the entrance so that no one could burst in on them. She moved into the ring slowly and sat down in the only remaining chair.

Everyone looked towards the silent Knight who sat impassively. He waited another few seconds to ensure that they were all completely focused on what he was about to say. “Fellow officers,” he began after a small clearing of his throat, “the esteemed scientists of the Templar Archives have cracked the motherboard that we had managed to secure earlier this morning. We now know exactly where our enemy is hiding. What remains to be discussed is how we should go about bringing him to justice.” No one answered or responded they did not know whether or not he was finished. He was not, “It has been sometime since I have engaged in direct combat against a demon, even a lesser one. The past twenty years have seen a sharp decline in their numbers abroad in the land. Something we cannot explain. To the best of my knowledge, our adversary still has at least some of those drones at his disposal, though the number cannot be greater than the group we faced last night. I think the best route for us to use is a quick thrust. Roll in guns blazing cut down his support and allow me to take him on personally, though this is not a concrete plan. I am open to opinions and persuasion at this point.”

There was a moment’s hesitation in which no one wanted to speak, the lower ranking officers looking towards the Captains to see what they would do. Grom leaned forward and sighed, “Demons,” it was a swear word. They all murmured in agreement. “I honestly don’t know what are chances are against such things. I haven’t ever fought one myself, but the way they’ve been described to me in years past leads me to believe that we common foot soldiers have as much a chance against a demon as does a child against a grizzly bear. Jericho?”

The large man looked up from in response to his name. “Yes?”

Grom paused, his will battling against what he had to say, “We are at your command. We always have been. If you think that the best way for us to defeat this demon is to charge him until we all lie dead, we’ll do it. We won’t hesitate, but not one of us here knows anything about fighting demons. We will follow you; we’ll stand by you till the last one of us falls. What are your orders?” Captain O’Riley and the other officers nodded grimly in agreement with Grom’s words, they were all in, double or nothing.

Jericho was glad to see that the Captain had finally given up his will to God, and to him, “Captain, thank you for your words. Clearly the only one of us here who can hope to fight the demon is I. I will not ask any of you, nor any of your men, to follow me into that peril. What I need you gentlemen and ladies to decide is how best to get me at this accursed foe. After that, it is all up to God.”

They nodded and began the discussion about how to handle the drones that were sure to be in their way when they got to the demon’s compound. Jericho supplied all the information he could based on what the Archivist had told him. Some favored a head on assault, others stealth, and still others trickery or a diversion. The debate went on for an hour or so until lunchtime. When they exited the tent to eat what could be their last meal, they had decided on what to do. They were all very quiet that afternoon, none of them except Jericho had ever fought a demon, they did not know what to expect.

In the first minutes of the afternoon after the soldiers and they had eaten, they prepared to head out. Their guns were loaded, their horses rested, the entire mission had come down to these next three hours. Success or failure, no one would remember the names of the men and women who died to defend Avalon’s borders; theirs would be entered into the Templar Archives with the medals they had earned for bravery and sacrifice. Data for some historian on some distant date to look back at and write into a book or a missive for people who did not even know what danger was, content in their comfortable lives where they had the time and the luxury to read and write. They were numbers on a page, nothing more, but that did not lessen the fear in their hearts, nor stem the sorrow that knowledge of imminent doom brought with it.