We the People vol 2: Liberty or Death

Thane pulled at the collar of her borrowed blue coat. The tails dragged the ground behind her, acquiring a sheen of mud. The soldiers moved about miserably, complaining about the humidity, the mosquitoes, and the nerve of Baum to think he could take Bennington in the first place. There was much shoulder-clapping, and bawdy tunes explicitly spelling out just what the men intended to do if they survived the day’s fighting.

“They’re gross.”

Thane turned to see Faraday, wearing her own Colonial blue uniform. The waifish girl’s shoulders drooped, heavy bags lurking beneath her eyes.

“They’re scared, Hannah,” Thane said. They watched as a pair of messengers ran by, heading to Stark’s tent. “They might be dying today. You have to see it from their point of view.”

Thane regarded Faraday for a time, wondering if she should give voice to the thought in her head. At last, her curiosity overwhelmed her tact.

“Hey, Hannah, are you...are you worried about dying?”

Faraday blinked, blue eyes seeming unfocused. Then she shook her head.

“Not really. I’m going to put up an electromagnetic field around myself during the battle. No musket balls or cannon fire will get through.”

“Oh, that’s...” Thane shook her head. Science had never been her strong suit. “..that’s good, I guess. I was just thinking that you looked worried about something, that’s all.”

“I am worried.” Faraday cast her gaze at Bast’s tent, where Franklin and Chui were hard at work tuning the Armonica. “About Chui. He read something that scared him. He sent me to get you because he wants you to hear it before he tells Bast.”

“Bast isn’t in the tent?” Thane pursed her lips. He’d left early and procured more sustenance for her—again being cryptic about its origins—and then left, saying he was going to speak with Stark.

“He’s working with Montel on something.”

“I haven’t seen anything from our time. What has Montel been...” Thane’s words caught in her throat. Remembering all the cerebral slurry she’d been ingesting the last two days, she mentally connected the dots.

Even with recently digested brains in her gut, she was tired. So very, very tired, but there was much work to be done....

“This battle had better be short and sweet,” Thane said with a sigh. She looked over her troops, and without a rain shroud they were more gruesome than ever. She shuddered as a cluster of flies attended the gory mess of one soldier’s chest. Stark was trying to keep his living forces as distant as possible. She hoped that would be enough.

Thane looked out over what was to be the battlefield. Baum’s army spread out in a defensive line, with the bulk of his some seven hundred men protected by their hastily-built bulwark. Fields that once held rows of crops were now torn, muddied ruins. Booted feet, hooves, and wagon wheels saw to that. Bast always told her that if you were going to wage war you had better be certain it was for the right reasons, because no matter which side was victorious there was always a great toll taken on the land and its people.

Thane shook her head. While Stark had not seemed that impressed with the timber fort on the hill, to her it looked pretty much unassailable. The walls were too high to climb, too thick to break down, and from what the soldiers were saying, too wet to set ablaze. The plan was to pepper the fort with as many musket rounds as possible until Baum surrendered. Her zombie troops were to perform the risky flanking expedition, waiting until the fighting started to attack the fort.

The bits of white paper in their hats were supposed to keep the German Dragoons manning the walls from firing upon them until they were close enough to pounce. She hoped Stark was right, because even her undead troops could be reduced to bloody bits by enough lead balls.

Thane followed Faraday up the steep slope to Bast’s tent. Inside, Franklin puffed away at a pipe while he sat on a short-legged camp chair. He seemed oddly subdued, as he barely even inclined his head at her arrival. Chui looked up from the parchments spread before him on the floor, his eyes mere pinpricks.

“Chui, when’s the last time you slept?” She came to his side and put a hand against his cheek. “You look awful!”

“I should.” Chui’s normally cheerful face was heavy, as if it were an effort just to lift it enough to look her in the eyes. “We should all feel awful.”

“What? Why?”

“We failed, Thane. Things in the past got too screwed up.”

“Chui, you don’t know that.” She stared at the parchments, covered with strange, blocky script she couldn’t hope to read. “Do you?”

“The Zimmyr, in the years before the Harbingers arrived, noticed some unusual phenomenon. Particularly, they found that some of their populace were suddenly able to do things that defied explanation. Moving things without touching them, suddenly speaking languages that had been dead for thousands or years. What does that sound like to you?”

“C’mon, Chui,” Thane tried to laugh but it sounded strained even to her. “Those writings come from the same species that we’re trying to take down! You know, the one that tried to wipe us out once already?”

“Why would they lie?” Chui shook his curly-haired head. “No, it all seems too connected. These Zimmyr had an advantage over us; They only had one world government. Their plan was originally just to send a kind of time capsule across dimensions, but a military coup led to a new plan.”

“To overwrite another species with an alien retrovirus,” Thane said “I was there, remember?”

“Yeah, our friend ESX, as it turns out, is kind of a victim; They put something in his DNA, a-an overriding desire to perform his function. That’s why it’s so damn ruthless.”

“You sound like you admire it.” Thane’s hands formed into fists, but she wasn’t really mad at Chui. She was afraid, afraid he was right.

“I don’t, not really...” Chui sighed. He rubbed his eyes and then locked gazes with her. “Look, Thane, don’t you think I want to be wrong? I’ve been over these writings, and over them, and this is the most logical conclusion. Somehow, despite all we’ve done, all we’ve tried, the past still gets mucked up and the Harbingers are coming.”

“We’ve done a pretty good job keeping history intact, haven’t we?” she asked. “I mean, Stark is still alive, and Franklin.”

“What about your army, Thane? History said there were thirty casualties on Stark’s side. THIRTY. What’s going to happen when the fight’s over and a freaking thousand of them drop dead again?”

Thane almost swooned. It was too much, too much for anyone. How could they hope to undo all the damage that had been done?

“And then,” Chui continued “let’s not forget that a lot of these men would have gone on to father children. How much different will that make things? It’s like the Butterfly effect. The flap of an insect’s wing can have huge consequences, and we’ve flown in like a Kaiju and gale-forced the past!”

“What’s a Kaiju?”

“Giant movie monster, and why aren’t you freaking out like I am?”

Thane chuckled.

“Chui, I can assure you, I am freaking out just as much as you are. I’m mostly so tired from keeping my soldiers on their feet that I’m kind of numb to the world. I’ll just tell you what I told Faraday; If the Harbingers want a fight, we’ll give it to them. Right?”

“Right.” Chui’s slumped shoulders belied his gung-ho reply.

“And get out into the sun a little bit today,” Thane said “stop looking at that crap for awhile. Take Faraday for a walk or something. She worries.”

“Take her for a walk with a battle brewing?” Chui chuckled.

“Why not? Just hold it together a little longer, okay?”

Chui smiled, brightening a bit.

“Okay. Good luck out there, Thane.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“Miss Thane,” Franklin said as she was halfway out the door.

She turned to face him as he struggled to his feet. He stood before her and offered a slight bow.

“I know that I’ve been something of a nuisance to you,” he said with a touch of petulance. “It’s true that, though I speak of living in moderation, I follow my own advice poorly. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble. You’re a capable and determined young woman.”

“Uh, thanks, Mr. Franklin.” Thane didn’t know how to deal with him when he was being reasonable. “I guess...I’m sorry I threatened to commit violence on you.”

“Apology accepted, my dear,” he said. Thane turned to leave, and then felt his hand slap across her buttocks.

“That one was for free,” she hissed between clenched teeth, not turning around “next time, so help me, I don’t care if it makes the whole universe go pop, I’m going to rip off your hands. Capice?”

She left the tent before she could see what effect her threat had. In a way, Franklin had given her the edge she needed.

Now she was downright eager for a fight.

As an officer, Thane rated a horse. This caused problems, because of the skittishness that most animals displayed toward her. The copper-maned cobalt mare they had given her was supposedly the most docile one available, but the beast would still occasionally try to buck her out of the saddle.

“Settle down, you grass munching future bottle of Elmer’s!” She dug her spurs into its sides. Unlike most women, Thane did not like horses. Living her life on the road had meant a lot of nights spent in barns, and the smelly, sneaky beasts were not the best of company. The mare got the gist and stopped bucking, though it continued to huff. The thought had occurred to her to kill the horse and raise it, but that seemed a bit excessive.

Besides, every ounce of her energy was going into maintaining the army.

She kicked the mare into a cantor and caught up to Stark. He was astride his own mount, a black gelding with a white patch over one eye. So much for the image of the Revolutionary commander astride his magnificent white stallion. It said something for Stark’s character, that he preferred practicality to vanity. His uniform was fancy enough, but she could see the travel stains and wear behind the glittering brass buttons.

“Lt. Thane,” he said, inclining his head. Thane didn’t salute, but she bobbed her head as she had seen others do.

“General.”

“Are your men ready?” He licked his lips, staring beyond her to where what Jimmy had dubbed the Corpse Corps stood, weapons in hand.

“They seem so.” Thane turned to stare at them herself. She mused that it was a good thing they were packing their muskets with powder unbidden by her. She had no idea how to load or fire one. “I can’t keep this up much longer, though.”

Stark nodded grimly.

“I appreciate your discomfort on our behalf, my lady. Please lead your men into position. It is nearly time.”

“At least we got lunch afore the battle, eh General?” came a cocky voice from their left.

Thane turned to regard Safford, looking unwashed and hung over.

“I hope you put some solid food in your gullet before the whiskey,” said Stark curtly. Safford waved him off, and Thane forced her stubborn mount to take her back to her own troops.

Every one of her rotting, staggering men bore the strips of white paper in their hats. Bast recruited Jimmy and Montel to dress the zombies and conceal their nature as much as possible, but they had only had so much material to work with. At closer than ten paces, it was horrifically obvious how terribly, mortally wounded the men really were.

“Let’s do this,” she said. Without speech or gesture, she simply willed the rotting soldiers to follow her. They did so at once, sloshing through mud and into the treeline. Thane gritted her teeth, feeling additional strain as the zombies drew on more of her energy for the hard march.

Fortunately, they didn’t have far to go. Walloomsac was little more than a collection of farm houses, the occupants long since fled. It was little wonder that the battle was associated with Bennington.

What would these people think if they saw Manhattan, or London, or Hong Kong?

It was useful to distract herself with such thoughts during the march. That way, she didn’t have to concentrate on how weary she felt, or worse, think about Chui’s dire warning. Was everything they were doing really in vain?

She had to believe otherwise, because if she didn’t, she might collapse in a ball of misery and despair.

Thane had a huge advantage over other battlefield commanders; No need for messengers. Normally, spreading out a sizable force like her own around fortifications would take time and tedious back and forth. Thane could do more than simply will her charges to do her bidding.

With quiet shuffling, her troops spread themselves out. Some of the Dragoons, resplendent in their bright gold tunics, spotted them but did not opened fire. It seemed that Stark’s ruse was working after all.

Being so far away on the hill, Thane couldn’t hear Stark’s rousing, historic speech. She hoped it was a good one, and wished she could have heard it. Inspiration would have been nice right about how. Then she heard her signal, the first crack of musket fire.

“Time to rock n roll!”

Thane willed her men to fire, and all Hell broke loose.