Blog: Holiday

I'm off tomorrow (actually later today) on holiday. I will return on the 6th Jan. I hope to do a lot of writing while I am away, but I am not sure whether I will be able to post much. We are going to be pretty much in the bush and on the beach out of contact for most of the time. If there is 3G/GPRS coverage, then I will see what I can do. Enjoy what there is of the story so far, and don't forget to comment!

Chapter 12: Recognition

"Cy, I contacted Hand Leader Evans this morning when you managed to communicate with me using your mind. I will leave you to speak with him." Finger Leader Roberts told me once the others had left us alone. "If you will excuse me Hand Leader?"

"Certainly." Hand Leader Evan replied. "Nice to meet you Cy." He shook my hand. "Walk with me." He turned and walked away. I scurried to catch up and matched my pace to his.

"Do you have any idea why I wanted to speak to you?" Hand Evans asked me.

"At a guess I would think it is because I was a little early for me to get the mental communication thing right?"

"Yes, well, that’s why your Finger Leader contacted me at first, but that was just for information. Early use of mind powers is a marker of higher than normal potential, and we like to watch such people as they are potential leaders. That would have been fairly normal. The real reason I am here is because in your second attempt to communicate, it seems that two other members of your finger heard you."

"I did notice that it seemed to be a little different at the time." I was puzzled about what made this so important.

"[Cy]" I heard in my head.

"Yes Hand Leader" I replied.

"[Mental communication please?]"

"[Yes Hand Leader]" I tried again.

"[Do you find that difficult to do?]"

"[No. The first time took some real concentration. Now it seems entirely natural . I have been listening to Finger Roberts all morning, and I think that his use of Mental Comms has made it feel almost normal for me now.]"

"[All right. Try to send a message Finger Roberts and I at the same time.]"

"[Do you hear me?]" I called in my head, trying to feel the mental taste of both Finger Roberts and Hand Evan at the same time.

"[Yes Cy, I hear you.]" It felt like a double echo. Both replied almost simultaneously but I had no trouble keeping their replies separate in my mind.

"Ok Cy. Thank you. I have seen enough for now. I will leave you to return to your training. I just want you to know that the ability you have demonstrated is very unusual so early in training and if everything else works out, then it indicates that you have the potential to rise very far in terms of leadership. I look forward to watching how things turn out for you. Thank you for your time." With that, Hand Evans turned and walked away.

I headed back to rejoin the others.

As I got back to the others, I realised that I hadn’t had an opportunity yet to ask about shaving, so I approached Finger Roberts and asked him what I should do.

"I think everyone should hear this." Finger Roberts said. "Gather round please. Ok, this is a little early in the program, but I want to explain something to you. Cy has just asked me how he can shave. That leads us to another aspect of the processing. As you have experienced, there are changes that have happened to your bodies since you woke up which have been stimulated by exercise. This has been pretty much involuntary. It is also possible to direct the changes deliberately. The first test of this ability and control is with body hair. All of you will be growing your hair until you learn to control the change simply by willing it. While the men have beards, everyone who sees them knows that they haven’t gained this ability. You will notice that a lot of the veterans have large and fancy moustaches. There are two reasons for this: one is that it demonstrates control and the other is based on history. Napoleons veterans were recognised by their moustaches. For the women it is a little more difficult, although hair on the legs is often the indicator."

"Does that ability extend to other things?" I asked.

"Yes. The start is facial hair. Once you have that under control, then I will teach you how to extend that to other things. You can change almost any physical aspect of yourself if you have sufficient skill." he replied. "Now, enough of that, today we are going to concentrate on a few more grappling holds: the neck and waist holds and the head lock."

Finger Roberts went through the process of demonstrating each hold in turn, and we spent a number of hours practicing these holds and the techniques for breaking them.

Lunch-time arrived eventually, and we discovered to our delight that we had been provided with fresh bread-rolls and sliced meat, so it involved very little preparation.

After I had eaten my lunch, I decided that I wanted to tackle the water-heating issue. I approached Finger Roberts and explained my concept based on what we called a "Donkey" which was a field water-heater made out of a 40-gallon drum. Essentially the principle was very simple, the drum was placed over a fire and it had a source of water that filled it. The hot water would rise to the top and pour out of a hole in the drum, while cold water took the place of the hot.

Finger Roberts complimented me on the idea, but explained that water heating was also one of the mental "magic" tricks that we would learn, and bathing in cold water was a major incentive to develop the skills.

Once everyone had finished eating, Finger Roberts instructed us to fetch our training swords. We returned to muster in front of him very quickly and he started explaining how we would be learning to use our swords.

"The first thing that you need to know," he began, "is that you work together as a team. We carry no shields. The warrior next to you is your shield. The principle of battle for you is extremely simple. You concentrate on striking the warrior in front of you to disable or wound him, and if you do so aggressively enough, you will put him on the back-foot and beat him before you need to worry about defence. We will teach you both attack and defence however as they compliment each other, but the focus is on teamwork.

"Our basic Finger formations are based on the concept of three up and down. The standard formation is to have three warriors in the line fighting, and three directly behind them in reserve. The Finger Leader fights with the Finger in this formation. There are a number of variations of this, where we can put more up front and less in reserve, or vice versa, depending on a number of factors. For example, if we have to fight in an enclosed space, then we might want only two to fight up front. This also allows for better husbanding of our strength as the reserve warriors can be swapped out. If we are required to cover a wider front, we can put four warriors up front, and have only two in reserve. We also have formations where we are all paired up and we swap and protect our buddy in the line.

"What we are going to do for the next while is learn the standard formations and drill in them; how to get into formation; how to change formation from one to another; how to replace each other in the line and what to do in various situations when one of you gets struck down and we have to react to reinforce the line. We will also practice the relief in the line; advancing to contact and breaking contact. There is no more square-bashing for the sake of pretty parades. Here drilling returns to its roots where it is a means to exercise control over formations in the midst of battle."

And that is what we did. We drilled for the rest of that day in the various formations. Finger Roberts drove us mercilessly through endless variations of the formations. He interspersed periods of formation drill with the various grappling holds and blocks. By the end of the day I was bone tired and collapsed into bed at the earliest opportunity.

Chapter 11: Training

I woke up in the dark. I reached out for the alarm clock and fell out of bed. The alarm clock wasn’t there. As I sat rubbing my head, I remembered that I wasn’t at home anymore.

I looked around and saw the other members of the Finger stirring in their beds. I wasn’t sure what had woken us up, but I figured that this was going to be just like the army I was used to where I would have to get out of bed at oh-dark-thirty.

"[Now that you are awake, you have half an hour to get ready, then meet outside.]"

I identified the voice in my head as being Finger Roberts. I decided to try something. I had been doing the concentration exercises constantly the previous afternoon and evening without knowing if they had helped me make any progress, so I concentrated hard and sent back "[On the way Finger-Leader.]"

There was a startled "[...]" and then "[Was that Cy Peters?"] from him.

"[Yes Finger Leader]" I replied.

"[OK. Good!]"

I got up from the floor and grabbed my towel and soap. I scratched through my locker to see if I could find a razor, but there was nothing like that there. I decided that if I hadn’t been provided with one then I would just have to go without shaving and ask the Finger-Leader about it later.

I had a fast wash in the stream. It was seriously cold and I started thinking about how I could arrange to warm the water for the future. I would have to see whether I could arrange some kind of fire-heated donkey.

I was a little reluctant to pull on the same outfit as the previous day, but when I inspected it, I was surprised to see that it was clean. I decided that this was either a technological marvel, or some sort of magic, but as usual when you had no idea what caused something then the two were functionally equivalent.

Washed and dressed, I waited for the others to join me. Finger Roberts was standing and waiting, but he had a distracted look to him and I guessed that he might be in the middle of a mental conversation with someone else.

Once we were all present, Finger Leader Roberts turned and started running with a "Follow me" tossed over his shoulder.

We ran for about two hours. Only the first few hundred meters was on a pathway, then we headed off into the jungle. We ran between trees, jumped over logs and rocks and waded through streams, all at what I would previously have thought of as a pace suitable for a 1500 meter race on the track. As we went Finger Leader Roberts kept up a constant mental commentary on the terrain that we were moving through as well as the flora that surrounded us. I was surprised at his encyclopedic knowledge, but soon realised that he was giving us very valuable information; information that could assist us to live off the bush if necessary.

At one point, he stopped and waited for us all to catch up, then pointed at the ground. "That’s the spoor of the most dangerous predator other than man on War World. It is a large cat we call a Smilodean that is similar to a cross between a jaguar and tiger. Take note of the spoor. I would recommend that you make every possible effort to avoid tangling with them. They are very efficient hunters of humans whom they consider to be a delicacy." He looked at us with a wry smile on his face.

"[Finger Leader?]" I decided to try the mental contact again. As I did it, it felt slightly different and I saw Desrae and Lian jerk in surprise.

"Yes Cy?’ Finger Roberts answered aloud. Then he noticed the reaction of the other two.

"Did you just hear Cy?" he asked them. Both Desrae and Lian nodded.

"Ok." Finger Roberts gave me a strange look as he asked "What is your question Cy?"

"I was wondering what the Smilodean ate other than humans?"

"Look closely at the spoor. It looks as if this Smilodean is tracking a buck. They are not exactly the same as what we have on Earth, but they are a close equivalent. They make good eating for us too."

With that he turned and started running again.

"[An important lesson for any soldier is that the terrain is the most important aspect of the Art of War.]" Finger Roberts was in lecture mode again.

"[The terrain determines your tactics. It will guide you to water and food, and where you go to look for those, your enemy is likely to do the same. It can give you the advantage by allowing you to see your enemy, or to hide you from the enemy. Remember that there are two sides to the coin, and your enemy will, if he has any sense at all, make just as efficient use of the terrain as you. You need to get into the habit of thinking tactically about the terrain as a continuous, unconscious reflex.You will only learn to do this if you practice it until you no longer have to think about it. Build a map in your head as you move. Look for clues about what the terrain will do based on what your experience is. Use the vegetation to guide you. For example, these trees here on the left only grow where the soil is constantly wet. Those up on that hill there will only flourish when there is well drained soil. Just by seeing those trees, you can predict that there will be hills or valleys, and knowing that you can predict dead ground and high ground.]"

He went on like this constantly. An incessant flow of valuable information. I remembered the advice that Roger de Vries had given us to listen closely during our training, and I was realising how apt that advice was. A lot of what Finger Roberts was telling us was universal, and something that I already knew. I already had the habit of evaluating terrain constantly with an eye to tactical deployment and advantage, and also specifically to predict possible ambush sites. What he was giving us though was that basic framework together with sufficient detail to make it applicable to this environment. I was determined to remember everything that he told us, although I started to realise that the mental communication seemed to make it a lot easier to store and organise the information, and thus easier to remember. If I concentrated, I could see that not only were his words coming into my brain, but that somehow, when he thought of something specific when he spoke in this manner, then that image was transferred as well, so I was slowly building up a mental reference of the flora that included images as well as the description of it’s use and characteristic.

"[A lot of what a soldier does depends on how he utilises terrain to his advantage.]" Finger Roberts continued, "[The actual fighting is often only the culmination of a long process. Often the outcome of the fight is predetermined by the success of the manouevring that has taken place leading up to the battle. If any of you have read Sun Tzu before you came here, you will remember that he speaks about the best victory being one where you don’t actually have to fight. That’s the best outcome.]"

This information continued throughout our run.

***

When we got back to our camp, there was someone waiting for us. We stopped at Finger Roberts’ command while he greeted the guy, then turned to us and introduced him, "This is Hand Leader Evans. Cy, could we speak to you please? The rest of you take some time to get refreshed."

Chapter 10: Getting to know you

We all got up and moved over to the sleeping side of the barracks. I decided to introduce myself around and find out more about the people who were now in my "Finger".

Other than Desrae and myself, there were two other men and one woman. The first guy I spoke to was tall and thin and told me he was from Michigan. What was interesting was that he was black and described himself as "African" and I was white and described myself the same way. His name was Geraint. His buddy was Elaine, a fat woman from Montreal, Canada. The other guy was Lian from Hong Kong.

"I am ravenous." I declared to everyone, "I am going to see what I can do about getting something to eat."

"Another braai I suppose?" Desrae asked.

"Well, I suspect that is a skill that is going to turn out pretty handy if we have to do a lot of our own cooking. Let’s see what’s available," I replied. I left the barracks and looked around. I had spotted what looked like a primitive Lapa to the side of the barracks-house and I strolled over to it to investigate. Sure enough, there was a box of some sort on the floor, which I opened. It seemed that this was a cooler-box of some sort. I couldn’t see any mechanism to cool it down, but I had already had enough experience of this place to just ascribe that to some sort of "magic" and ignore it. I unpacked the contents and found that we had been provided with some utensils, and under them there was a stack of steaks. In a sealed bowl I found the makings of a pretty decent salad.

"Excellent," I thought to myself, "just perfect for a braai."

The next step was to create some sort of braai-place. I decided to look in the storage area that I had seen earlier and found what looked like a metal grid which I thought would do very well for a braai-grid and hauled that over to the Lapa. I hunted around the area and hauled a bunch of stones back and proceeded to build a braai with a circle of stones that would hold the grid. Then back to the storage area where I found an axe-like tool and I set off into the surrounding forest to search for wood. I found plenty of dropped branches from the trees and within twenty minutes I had enough firewood stacked in the Lapa to keep a fire going for some time. Now for some way to start the fire.

I walked back into the barracks and asked if anyone had any lighters or matches, but had no luck, so I went back into the class-room area where I found Finger Roberts sitting at a desk doing some paper-work.

"Finger-Leader, I am trying to get a fire started to cook our meal for tonight. You don’t happen to have some matches do you?" I asked him.

"Take a look in the storage-locker under your bed Peters. You’ll find what you need there." He answered me.

I thanked him and went to take a look.

When I knelt down to look under my bed, the others all stopped their conversations to watch what I was doing.

"Lost something?" Geraint asked.

"No. The Finger-Leader told me to look under my bed." I answered. With that I pulled out the storage locker that I found there. All the others watched with great interest when I opened it.

Inside I saw that there were a number of interesting things. I scratched through the contents until I came across a flint and striker gadget that I recognised as vaguely similar to ones that I had used before. I also hauled out a Dixie and a knife and fork. I decided to leave exploring the rest of the contents of the locker for some later time. I returned the locker to it’s place under my bed and returned to the Lapa. As I left the room, I saw most of the rest all getting down to check out their own lockers.

After about half an hour, Desrae came out to join me.

"That smells incredibly good!" she told me.

I smiled as I turned the steaks on the braai. "Yes. I know. Funny how I knew that would draw you out here."

"The rest are on their way." she laughed.

"Great. The meat should be ready in another ten or fifteen minutes. You could help get the salad ready."

I didn’t have to call anyone. The five of us were joined by Finger Leader Roberts and I dished up for everyone.

After we had finished supper, Finger Roberts told us to gather out front again.

"You have all been issued with training swords and have gathered from what you have been told that is the primary weapon used here on War World. We are going to start training you to fight, and eventually, we will get to using the sword. I want you to put any of the romantic, swashbuckling ideas of sword-fighting completely out of your heads. You need to understand that the sword is a great big cleaver designed to inflict maximum damage on your enemy, it is not designed to clash against your opponent’s sword with a loud noise. The point of fighting is to disable or kill your opponent.

"We use a short sword within the Finger that is designed to suit fighting in close quarters. The sword is just one of your weapons. Your others are your hands, head, feet and elbows. Before we start with the sword, we will start with teaching you how to Grapple. This is the oldest known human fighting style. We have found that there is no better way to teach the concepts of timing and distance as related to fighting.

"Grappling will allow you to develop some of the the basic skills needed for fighting with the sword in formation, as well as in the general mêlée. It will help you to develop both strength and speed as well as teach you about how to break arms and legs, how to bind or lock an opponent’s arms, what places to strike including the eyes, nose, under the chin and the groin.

"We will work on Grappling first, interspersed with cardiovascular training and general endurance, and then we will move on to other forms of fighting.

"We will start with a shoulder hold."

I was surprised by this. I had expected to start immediately with training in the use of the sword. What he had to say though about not hitting someone else’s sword, made sense to me and I wondered why I had never thought of that when watching Errol Flynn or the Pirates of the Caribbean.

Finger Roberts gestured Lian to come forward and demonstrated a basic shoulder hold and the rest of us paired off and copied what he showed us. He then demonstrated the counter; how to break the shoulder hold and we practised applying the hold and then breaking it for the next hour.

Finger Roberts moved around constantly, acting as the partner for each of us in turn and ensuring that we rotated partners every few minutes. I got the feeling that he was evaluating us constantly.

At the end of the hour he called a halt. "That’s enough. You’ve had a long day. Knock off and we will continue tomorrow."

It suddenly struck me that it was still the same day for me that I had started at dawn at Greefswald, although I had no idea how long I had been out during the ‘processing’. I supposed that could have been any length of time. I decided it wasn’t important to think about. The priority now was the feeling of fatigue, and the fact that I was sore and dirty.

"Finger Roberts, is there anywhere for us to wash?" I asked.

"The stream is just behind those bushes." he pointed out.

When he said that, I realised that I had been subliminally aware of the the sound of running water. I returned to the barracks to retrieve the bar of soap and a towel I had noticed in the storage-locker under my bed, then I walked around the large bush and found a short pathway that led to a small stream. I stripped off my clothes and waded into the stream.

Desrae called out to me "Cold?"

"About this big" I answered her and held my index finger and thumb up about two millimetres apart.

She laughed and stripped off her clothes and joined me. As she walked into the stream, I took a good look at her and decided that she no longer looked like the ‘granny’ I had dubbed her. She looked like a twenty year old woman. Even her grey hair had regained it’s hazel colour. The rest of the members of the finger followed Desrae and I after an initial hesitation. I thought I could see that Elaine looked substantially less fat than she had a few hours before. Once I thought of it, I looked down at myself and saw that I had already lost my boep. In fact, there was a definite hint of muscles showing on my stomach. My arms and legs had also firmed up substantially. I hadn’t developed any large bulges of muscle, but I was definitely a lot trimmer than when I had last looked.

When I was finished I dried off and returned to the barracks room without waiting for the others to follow. I lay down on my bed and I must have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, because I certainly remember nothing of the evening after that.

Blog: Keep on Trucking

Well,
It seems to be going pretty well. I still get the odd negative comment about the length of my chapters, but I am just pointing people to my blog post about that and that seems to help.
I have had some really, really encouraging and helpful comments from a few people which have been brilliant to get. Constructive criticism, encouragement, ideas for improvements and more. I am overwhelmed at this support and appreciate it incredibly!
I think that with Chapter 8 & 9, we are finally starting to get into the sort of detail that people have been asking for, although I am still finding it incredibly difficult to avoid explaining what I want to convey without long monologues. I hope that the character development and plot can/will be balanced by the explanations. It is a really difficult balance. I would appreciate comments on how effective(or otherwise) I have been at this.
ATB
BoonDock

PS: I have caught up with the blog entries, which are now listed as the first entries in this blog. I cheated and changed the date on the entries to get them earlier than the chapter posts. From now on new blog entries will be interspersed with chapter posts.

Chapter 9: Introduction to Training

Once Finger Roberts saw that he had all of our attention, he told us "Pick up your kit and follow me."

We all hurried to keep up with him as he set off at a rapid pace across the parade ground. I assumed that we would be shown to a barracks of some sort and then, hopefully, to a mess-hall so that we could get something to eat, and I was hopeful as we walked towards the buildings on the other side of the parade-ground that completed the horseshoe arrangement. I was puzzled when I realised that we were approaching the end of the buildings and we hadn’t entered one, and even more so when we left the parade-ground and started following a pathway that wound between some trees and into the bush.

We continued along the pathway for a long time, I would guess that we walked at least five klicks before Finger Roberts finally turned off the pathway at an intersection and headed through some bushes before finally stopping and saying "This is home for the next while. Find a bunk and meet me out here in ten minutes."

We were standing in a clearing in the bush about thirty meters wide and on the opposite side of the clearing from us there was a long low building. It had a roof made of some natural material that looked like woven leaves and was raised from the ground on what looked essentially like small stilts. When I got into the building I realised that the walls were very unsubstantial screens that would let the breeze blow right through them. They looked like the pictures I had seen of houses in tropical areas that were built to be cool in the intense heat. The barracks was divided into two with a simple partition. On the right side there were six frame beds, three on each side of the room. One already had kit on it, so I guessed it was taken. I dumped my kit in a pile on the bed opposite and Desrae did the same on the bed next to me. The others all chose beds and within a few minutes we were outside again standing in a line in front of Finger Roberts.

"Right," said Finger Roberts, "That wasn’t too bad. As you can see the facilities are fairly primitive here. I have no idea what you were used to where you come from, but this world is very primitive and you will have to adapt to it very quickly. The climate is essentially sub-tropical to tropical everywhere you will go. Buildings, sanitation and everything else is primitive as you can see from our accommodations here. Your food will be delivered here every morning, but you will have to set up a rotation to do the cooking. The six of us will be living and working together here for this stage of your training. Any questions?"

I looked around at the others in our Finger and when no-one asked any questions, I decided to risk it.

"Finger-Leader, when can we get further information about what we will actually be doing?"

"You will learn most of this stuff as we proceed, but for now here is the situation. This world has a fairly stable social structure and it’s own population. It is fairly close to what you would consider to be feudal or medieval. Does that give you any clues?"

"Yes Finger-Leader. Will we interact with the population or is it just battles all the time?"

"You will go through your first phase of training with me, then to graduate you will go out and perform on a mission. You can think of it as doing quests. You will have an objective given to you and you have to figure out the situation on your own. Part of what you will learn here will be the details of the situation on the world, so that you are not too lost when you get there, but that will be integrated with the military aspects of what you will learn. There are civilians out there and you will interact with them to the extent that it is required for your mission. Any other questions?"

This last was accompanied with a scowl that deterred even me from asking any more questions.

"Ok. Let’s get started." Finger Roberts walked over to the house and went into the left-hand partition. We all trooped in after him. I could see that it was decked out as a mini-classroom, with what looked like a blackboard and six chairs.

"Grab a seat and listen up."

Once we were seated, Finger Roberts began our first lecture.

"The first lessons you have already learnt. These were best shown by example and will be the basis for much of the rest of what you learn about and on War World. A lot of it you will not even have realised yet, but the basics are this:

- Your bodies and minds are vastly improved in potential, but you need to develop them by use.

- There is technology on War World, but it is not available for your use, and your experience on the planet is constrained by this fact.

"If you have been paying attention, you would have noticed that we have emphasised that it is not only your bodies that are important, but your minds too. The structure of the units that we use is different to what you are used to and there is a reason for this; it is not simply change for change’s sake. The most important aspect of this for you at the moment is why we have a ‘Finger’ with five members and what it means to be a Finger-Leader. As it happens, Finger-Leader is the lowest level of leadership position because the ability to control and communicate with others at this level is restricted to five people.

"We are going to start with physical preparation, but simultaneously we will work on mental preparation. One of the very first things that you need to learn is mental communication. All combat communication has to be facilitated by someone who has reached a certain level of competency, and this is one of the pre-requisites for achieving rank."

"Finger-Leader, can anyone learn how to do this?" asked one of the others.

"Anyone can receive," Finger Roberts replied, "most of you will learn how to reply, and some will learn how to initiate communications. A leader’s develops the ability to send to more than one at a time, and to maintain more than one communications link. This is important as we have to maintain a network of communications. Each Finger-Leader must be able to speak to his Finger members on one ‘net’ as well as to his Hand-Leader on another. Within the Hand, the same restrictions and rules apply as within the Finger. The same is true at each level up the chain of command. The higher levels can reach down through the various nets to any level, although that is only done in unusual cases, we like to maintain the chain of command."

"How will we learn this?" I asked. I was a little concerned about this as I had no experience of it. I was pretty sure that I could learn to handle anything physical that was thrown at me, but I was used to technological solutions to problems and this was far outside of my previous experience. The actual structure of the ‘network’ made complete sense to me though, as it seemed to duplicate to a large extent the radio networks that I was accustomed to. "Oh, and how do you know who you are talking to? Do you use call-signs?" I added as I thought of the radio network.

"I will give you some exercises to do which you need to start practicing. This is not something that you do only in a classroom environment, but that you need to mull over and practice constantly all day long." Finger Roberts replied.

"In fact, that leads me to the general approach that we take here," he continued, "this is not a basic training course in the same sense as you might have experienced before. What we are going to do is to start with a number of basic building blocks and drill you on them. Once you have achieved a certain level of competency, then we will move on to training with other Fingers and even competing with them in mock battles and exercises, although you will find that we believe in the philosophy of ‘The more sweat in training, the less blood on the battlefield’ although I suspect you will be surprised at how much blood you will actually shed during training."

"[What I want for now though is for you to take some time to settle in and get to know each other. I will give you some exercises to practice and I want to see progress in the morning.]"

I was shocked. I could see Finger Roberts was enjoying himself: he had a huge smile on his face. The last sentence had appeared in my mind without him speaking out loud at all.

"[Yes. That’s correct. You guessed it. This is what I have been talking about.]" he said in our minds again. "[Does that answer your question about call signs]" he asked me.

"Absolutely." I replied. There was no doubt who had spoken in my mind. I didn’t know how, but it seemed as if there was a ‘taste’ that identified Finger Roberts uniquely.

He then proceeded to tell us what the mental exercises were that would help to prepare us for mental communication and dismissed us to settle in. I certainly had a lot to think about.

Chapter 8: Kit Issue

Embarrassment aside, Desrae’s change made me acutely aware of the reality of physical changes in general and fired off a series of speculative thoughts about healing and regeneration. I started to take note of the changes in my own body. If felt as if I was experiencing the benefits of six month’s road-work from one two hour run. I could feel that my legs were stronger and that the slight belly I had developed had almost disappeared. I had thought I was just getting my second wind, but this was definitely more than that!

I realised that we had run further than I had thought, and that our pace had been increasing constantly. We were now running almost twice as fast as we had been when we set out. In spite of the pace, I was surprised that I wasn’t hacking and coughing from my years of smoking. I couldn’t remember when, if ever, I had run as fast as this with as little effort. It seemed that the effects of processing were starting to pay off with an improvement in my lungs as well as everything else.

As we ran on, I saw that we had almost completed the circle and were returning to the parade ground.

"Looks as if we are almost finished the run." I said to Desrae, glad of the opportunity to talk about something that deflected the embarrassment I felt.

"About time. I have always hated running." came back from Desrae, with a touch of bitterness that I hadn’t expected to hear from her.

"Oh?" I queried, intrigued.

"Mostly because I blame running for the extreme pain and discomfort I experienced with early onset of arthritis" she explained.

"OK. That explains it."

"All better now though" she said with a self-satisfied smile.

When we arrived back on the parade ground, Fist-Leader Ryon was waiting, balled fists on hips and feet spread. Basically, the typical NCO stance. He had a scowl on his face as we ran in in drips and drabs, but stood patiently, obviously waiting for everyone to get back. We all fell in again into formation and stood waiting to see what would happen next.

"Right," started Fist Ryon, "I see all of you managed to drag your lazy carcases back here. Now let’s get started properly. Take a careful look around you. See if you can spot the people that you arrived with or that you got to know. You might find that you don’t recognise them anymore. That’s the effects of the processing starting to kick in. We have no idea what it is that Marek and his crew actually do to us when we get here, but we all enjoy the benefits of it. The purpose of our activities so far has been to kick start the process. You will learn more about this as we progress, but essentially, your body and mind will respond to what you do to make your more efficient at it. This means for example that if you exercise, then your body adjusts to match that exercise. It is just like normal training, except that the effects are incredibly fast. The first stage of the process is pretty much the same for everyone, but the amount of focus you apply to it will determine how far you can move into the second phase. What this means to you is that there is no magic wand effect, you still have to work, and work hard, to achieve the best results. It just means that the results are achieved a lot faster than they would be normally, and that it is possible to train to do things that you might not have been capable of doing before.

"Some of you will also have noticed that illnesses or injuries that you had before have either been repaired, or have progressed a long way on the path to being repaired, just in the last few hours. The same thing applies to that as to normal training; if you are injured, you just have to send a signal to your body that you want it to be active, and it will start repairing itself to enable you to do so. This does not mean that you are bullet-proof, just that you can recover from most things, even some of the most severe injuries. Kinda handy seeing as there is no real concept here of a hospital. Just the rough-and-ready first aid of your comrades, and their assistance to start moving again so that your body can heal itself.

"Let’s move on to the reason that you are here. This is War World, and you are here to fight. I know that most of you come from situations where there were projectile weapons and lost of mechanisation, so that you were transported in some or other way to and from the battlefield, in a vehicle or an aircraft. That is not the situation on War World. Here we rely on our bodies to transport us and on our physical and mental strength to fight. Our weapons are primarily swords.

"You will have realised that our structure here is somewhat different to what you might have been accustomed. Here is what you need to remember:

Five Warriors make a Finger,

Five Fingers make a Hand

Five Hands make a Fist and

Five Fists make a Fight.

You will now be divided into Fingers for the balance of your training."

Following that interesting speech, one of the people that had been pointed out as a Finger-Leader started calling out names. Once the five people that he had called out had joined him, the next started. The third called out my name, immediately followed by Desrae’s, and we moved quickly to join him. Once all five of us in this new Finger were there, our Finger-Leader ordered us curtly to follow him and moved off. We followed like ducklings after their mother as he walked rapidly towards one of the buildings.

When we arrived at the door, we had to wait for the Finger ahead of us to enter and our Finger-Leader stopped us.

He turned to us and said "My name is Jude Roberts. I will be your Finger-Leader during training. You may call me Finger Roberts, or just Finger-Leader when there are no others around. You will soon discover that this is my rank and position. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you to, and will not argue about it. If you have questions, they will be delayed until after I request them. Do you understand me?"

There was a murmur of "Yes Finger-Leader" and one misguided "Yes Sir". I wasn’t sure who said that.

"I am NOT Sir. I thought I just explained that. Get down and give me a hundred push-ups" Finger Roberts ordered with quiet menace. While I was busy doing the push-ups I thought quietly to myself that this was a much more effective technique than the usual blustering and shouting that I associated with drill-instructors and training cadre during basic training.

When we had all finished our push-ups, and no-one was more surprised than me by how they got easier to do the more we did them, rather than more difficult, we all stood up again.

"OK. Now that we have that out of the way, let’s see if we can get you your first kit-issue without too many SNAFUs. Single line. Go in the door."

With a chorus of "Yes Finger-Leader" we lined up at the door. I was second in line and looking forward to seeing what kit we would be getting.

As we entered the building, the place struck me as being completely different from any other Quartermaster’s Store that I had ever been in. Rather than a long counter with shelves up to the roof, there was a series of desks with what looked like a cupboard next to each one. Finger Roberts went ahead of us to the first desk and called Desrae, by name to my surprise, and she moved up to the table. She spoke briefly to Finger Roberts, then stepped inside the ‘cupboard" while he closed the door behind her. As he did so, he motioned me to come close. As I stepped up to him, he told me what I was sure would be repeated for everyone following:

"Step into the cupboard. Stand completely still. Once you have been scanned and measured, the door in front of you will open. Step through and wait at the table until you have received your kit, then move to the next station and repeat."

Just as he finished his spiel, the ‘cupboard’ opened on the far side of where it had opened before and Desrae stepped out. Once the door had closed behind her, the door in front of me opened and I stepped inside. The door closed behind me and it was dark for a few seconds, then a light started to moved from the ceiling down over my body. I felt as if I was inside a fax machine. There was absolutely no sensation or noise, just the light. When the light reached the floor, the door in front of me opened, startling me a bit. I stepped out and the door closed behind me.

I found myself standing at the table. I looked down and saw that there was now a pile of clothing on the table which I assumed was mine. I reached out and picked it up and looked for Desrae, only to see her disappearing into the next ‘cupboard’.

As I walked across to the next cupboard, I did a quick inventory of what I had received. I was expecting some more clothing, and at first glance it looked as if that is what I had received. A closer inspection revealed that this was actually a form of chain-mail. Exceptionally light, but definitely chain-mail made up of hundreds of little links of what looked like metal. I decided it couldn’t be metal though because it was too light. I didn’t have time to wonder though as I was at the next station and the door opened just as I got there.

I stepped into the second ‘cupboard’ and went through the same procedure. When I stepped out of this one however, what was waiting for me was a pair of shoes. Finger Roberts was there, and told me to put them on before moving on to the next station.

I sat down and pulled on the shoes. When I held them, they felt as if they were very light-weight moccasins, with the design of a pair of boots. When I pulled them on, they came up to just above my calves and they did that magic ‘adjusting’ thing again. As I started walking in them, I could feel that they hardened under my feet so that they felt as if I was wearing slippers with a tough sole. I decided that the boots I had packed weren’t going to be needed after all.

The rest of the kit stations went along similar lines. At the end of the process I had gotten new chain-mail, boots, a hat, cutlery and crockery and a training sword.

We all exited the building and stood waiting for Finger Roberts. While I stood there, I took a closer look at the sword. It came in a scabbard with a belt and I pulled it half-way out to see it. The sword blade was exactly as long as the distance between the tip of my fingers, and the crook of my arm. It was heavy, but I couldn’t determine what it was made of. It felt almost as if it was a mixture between wood and plastic. I had to stop my examination hurriedly when I heard a noise and looked up to find Finger Roberts giving me a baleful glare.

Chapter 7: You're in the Army Now

Chapter 7: You're in the Army now

Almost everyone in the room seemed to be programmed to stand up when hearing the "Command Authority" voice, and those who weren’t followed the general example.

"Now that I have your attention, let’s establish the ground rules so there can be no room for misunderstandings." Fist-Leader Ryon said. "You have all been processed so you all speak and understand the same language. You will find that unless you had some pretty acute problems with your body before processing, nothing much has changed. Well, there is nothing for free; as you start exercising your body and mind, the changes will start kicking in. For some of you it will be fairly gradual, for others the changes will be radical. Think of it as the normal process of getting your body fit. Once you are at a certain level that I consider to be sufficient, the we will look at extending you to meet your personal potential.

"Most of you have prior military experience in one form or another. Well, keep that in mind but remember that this is basic training all over again and your prior experience might actually hinder your progress if you allow it to interfere with learning to do things my way!" The Fist-Leader paused for breath and looked around to see if everyone was up to speed.

It all sounded pretty familiar to me as I had heard, and even given, similar speeches myself in similar circumstances.

"Right," he continued, "let’s start by getting those ugly bodies of yours adequately covered. Take a look inside the pillow on your bed and haul out the clothing you find there. Get dressed then fall-in outside. You have five minutes."

With that he turned on his heel and disappeared.

I checked my pillow and found a lime green roll of fabric neatly packed inside. I fished it out and unrolled it on the bed. Turned out it was what looked like a standard set of long pants and a shirt. I quickly pulled them on.

When I turned to Desrae, she was already dressed. I raised an interrogatory eyebrow at her and mouthed "Shall we go?" over the general hubbub in the room.

I got an affirmative nod and we joined the steady stream of freshly clothed people head for the door.

As I walked, I felt the slight discomforts of the new uniform disappear and it felt as though it fit me better than I thought it would. I looked down at myself and discovered that the uniform had adjusted to me and now fit me better than any other set of clothing had ‘till that point.

I glanced across at Desrae and found her just as caught up in the novel sensation.

When I went through the door I was surprised to discover that we were actually outside rather than in one of the uniformly bland and ubiquitous white corridors. I looked up into a sky that was subtly wrong somehow, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on just what was made it feel that way.

It struck me for the first time that I was truly off Earth and a long way from home; how far I had no way of knowing.

We arranged ourselves into a formation of six lines deep and had got ourselves mostly sorted out, when the bellowing of Fist-Leader Ryon drew our attention again.

"Right. I see I have my job really cut out for me this time. It seems that someone has lied to me and you lot have never been in the military before. You look like a herd of animals trying to decide if you want to be prey. Pathetic. Lets see if the Finger-Leaders can do anything about that."

At that, a group of men and women dressed in red uniforms, similar to the lime green ones we wore, started moving amoungst us. They had been loitering on the fringes of the area just watching. I noticed a level of competence about them similar to what Roger had displayed.

Once we were arranged to the Fist-Leader’s satisfaction, he started to give us some basic drill instruction.

Within an hour or so, we had started to get the hang of it. With that accomplished, it seemed it was time for a run.

Fist Ryon led us around the parade-ground and the off into some wilder country.

The feeling I got was that this area was sub-tropical with bush and plants that were similar enough to what I knew from home that it wasn’t sufficient to trigger the ‘you’re not in Kansas anymore’ response.

We ran for about two hours through a lot of bush, even crossing three rivers enroute (or maybe it was the same river three times?)

The Fist, or company as my internal monologue still insisted it be called, slowly spread out. I had been next to Desrae all morning, and it seemed as if we were fated to be paired up as buddies. I initially found myself feeling protective of her and resentful that she should be made to suffer without having had much chance for the promised healing to kick in. As the morning had passed however, I had been amazed to see just how tough and determined she was. After a while, I stopped worrying about her so much and just concentrated on the drills an exercise. Now as we ran side by side I realised that she was running smoothly and easily and that the constant grimace of pain was missing from her face, as was the slight limp that she had started out with.

"Desrae," I asked her now, "how are you feeling?"

"Actually I cannot remember when last I felt this good." she answered. "It feels like my body is 20 again."

As I glanced at her again, I did a double-take.

"Umm Desrae, have you noticed any changes to your body?" I asked her.

"Well, my joints are definitely no longer a problem, my hip needed replacement, but no longer and I generally feel much better."

"Yes, I noticed the results of some of that, I was talking about something more immediately visually evident." and I gestured in the direction of her chest.

Desrae glanced down at herself, then she almost stumbled. "Oh my GOD!" she exclaimed as I grabbed onto her arm to prevent her falling. She was obviously as gobsmacked as I was: this was the first direct, visual evidence that either of us had seen, of the regenerative abilities that we had been granted.

Where she had only had scar tissue before, she now had a pair of healthy, full breasts. When I tore my eyes away from them and looked at her face, I saw that she was smiling broadly.

"God that feels good!’ she said

"Having breasts again?" I asked.

"No. Having a man struggle to remove his eyes from them." She giggled. "I can see that the fringe benefits are going to be worthwhile after all."

Chapter 6: Wake up

Marek didn’t take us far; we turned to the second door down the corridor. The first thought that crossed my mind when I entered the room was that the machine that filled the room was an MRI scanner on steroids. It was huge. On closer inspection however, it was apparent that the superficial similarities disguised a technology that had very little relation to anything on Earth. There were no apparent controls and absolutely no evidence of any computer screens or anything similar.

"Please remove all your clothing and one at a time lay down on the ledge," Marek instructed.

The three of us looked at each other and then back at Marek. None of us made any move to comply though.

"I am quite aware of your clothing taboos; I am afraid that you will have to overcome that quickly. We have no time for that here."

I decided that I may as well lead the way. I had experienced enough situations where physical modesty was not an issue. The only complication here was the addition of females to the mix. I was a little selfconscious as I stripped down, but pretended that it didn’t bother me.

Once I had stripped, I lay down on a ledge that protruded from a tunnel through the ‘machine’. As soon as I was settled, the ledge started to move and I decided that it was more of a trolley. It carried me slowly into the tunnel and I found myself drifting off to sleep.

***

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying on a bed in another of the ubiquitous white rooms. I lifted my head to look around and saw that this room was a lot larger than any I had been in up to now. I estimated that there were a hundred beds in the room and each one had a naked person lying on it. That was a bit of a surprise, but of more interest to me was to see if there had been any changes made to my body. My first quick check didn’t reveal anything different and I had to struggle to suppress my disappointment.

Around me the other people on the beds were all starting to stir and look around and I figured that it was deliberate timing.

"Cy!"

I swung my head to see who had called my name, and saw Desrae looking at me. I noticed tracks down her face and realised she had been crying.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"The pain has gone," Desrae exclaimed "I can move my hands and legs without it hurting!"

She was clenching and unclenching her hands and rotating her wrists.

"Arthritis?" I guessed.

"Yes. I haven’t been able to use my hands properly for years and it has been even longer since I have been able to do it without pain."

"That’s wonderful news." I congratulated Desrae, although I found I had to avert my eyes so that I didn’t stare at the scar-tissue where her left breast had been.

Desrae had obviously noticed though, because she glanced down at her chest and said quietly "I lost that to breast cancer. I know it looks ugly."

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you." I apologised.

"No need to be sorry. I consider it to be an honourable scar," she smiled calmly at me.

"Allright. Listen up!" a stentorian voice bellowed, cutting across the murmur of voices that had been growing steadily louder.

There was an instant hush. I was sure that I wasn’t the only one to recognise a Sgt-Major style authority in that voice. It was obviously something universal to the military experience, irrespective of species, because it had issued from the mouth of someone definitely not from my neck of the woods.

"My name is Patlk Ryon. My rank is Fist-Leader. You will call me Fist Ryon. Those of you who do what I say and learn what I have to teach you might become War Brothers. Those who don’t will be meat to be fed into the grinder of war."

It had started.

Chapter 5: Arrival

For a few seconds I couldn’t quite get my eyes to focus, and I felt slightly nauseous. Once it cleared, I looked around with great interest, but felt slightly disappointed at the sight of a plain white room. The floor looked like concrete but felt slightly flexible, the way a well constructed wooden floor does. There was one door to the room and Roger ushered us towards it and out into a corridor.

He led us down the corridor, past a number of closed doors and then stopped in front of one that was indistinguishable, to me, from any of the others we had passed. I thought that all the unrelieved white could get depressingly old very fast.

After a pause of a couple of seconds, the door opened and Roger entered. I was directly behind him and followed him docilely into the room.

This room was identical to the one that we had arrived in except for ten ranks of institutional looking chairs all facing one blank wall. Roger instructed us all to sit, moved to the front of the room and waited patiently until John, Steven, Desrae and I had taken seats. With a glance at Roger, Ben, Gill and Rob turned and left the room.

"OK," Roger started, "You have arrived. Very briefly, what is going to happen now is that you are going to start you in-processing immediately. I just wanted to say a brief goodbye and wish you well. I hope to see at least some of you when you graduate from here." He then sketched a vague salute and exited the room.

I felt this was a little abrupt, but for some reason it didn’t worry me too much. The four of us sat and waited passively for a while. I had no idea how much time passed, as I had no watch and there was nothing in the room to indicate the passage of time.

We were all startled by the sound of the door opening. I had almost drowsed off in my chair. I watched as two people entered the room. They were both extremely tall, at least a foot taller than me, and they moved with an unnatural seeming grace. Almost as if they were dancing or ice-skating instead of walking. They moved to the front of the room, stopped there and looked at us. The man checked something in his hand, which looked as if it could be an oversize PDA of some sort, then looked up at us again. The woman next to him kept her head down with her eyes on whatever it was that she held in her hand, and didn’t look at us at all.

"Good Morning." It was the man. "Welcome to War World. I am known as Marek and this is Shiyla."

His voice was fluid and melodious. The closest I could come to describing the accent was that of someone who was a native Mandarin speaker, but not quite. As he spoke, I noticed that his ears had a slight peak to them.

"I am not of your race. We are known as the Sidhe. We are the facilitators and managers of War World."

That clicked for me. Elves.

"We know that there are a lot of legends and myths about us on the world you come from. There is probably the odd kernal of truth in what you have heard, but I suggest that you forget that and pay attention to the facts as they are revealed to you here, as this is the only reality that you have to concern yourselves with.

"We have done a preliminary scan of each of you while you waited and we need to explain a few things before we begin your processing. You have been subject to a mild form of magic since you first made contact with your sponsors. This magic has suppressed your curiousity and fear so that all that you had to consider was the basic decision to come to War World and nothing else. Some of you might have realised that you were exceptionally drowsy. This is a side effect of the magic, and an indication of your resistance to its effects. It is the first indicator of whether you will have some talent of your own here and of your potential for an aptitude to become a War Brother.

"Are there any questions?"

Suddenly, it felt as if a veil had been removed from my mind. I realised that the magic must have been lifted as a plethora of questions crashed into my head. All the questions that I should have asked Roger and all the things that he had evaded answering returned full force to clamour for attention.

While I was reeling from this onslaught, Steven started freaking out next to me, screaming and shouting at Marek. Somehow hearing him go off like that made me calm down somewhat.

Marek just waited for Steven to run down, then asked "Was there a question in that somewhere that I missed?"

Steven seemed nonplussed at the lack of reaction to his tirade and look around at the rest of us; looking for support I suppose. After a few seconds, he slumped back into his chair and mumbled "I s’pose not. Was just a shock."

"Any one else?" Marek asked, giving each of us a long look.

I sat quietly turning over everything that had lead to this point, and eventually decided that it probably made sense just to go with the flow for now and see where it lead. I did ask "Can we ask questions later?"

"Yes. The best answers to questions though are the ones that you experience for yourselves. We have a lot of experience with newcomers, and we find this to be a universal truth. Now, if we can proceed. All our initial scans of you are positive, there are no problems that we can see..."

"Umm Excuse me?" John put up his hand.

"Yes?"

"I, umm, Gill knew that I was umm.- ill and uh - that I have..." John seemed unable to complete his question.

"Yes. We know. That isn’t a problem." Marek answered and proceeded to explain, "The next step in the process is for you to get treated. Please follow me."

Marek turned and walked out of the door with Shiyla close behind him. We all rushed to follow.

Chapter 4: Departure

While we waited for the wood to burn down to coals, Roger hauled a portable cooler-box out of the Land Rover and placed it on a table handy to the braai. "Steak, chops or wors?" he asked me.

"Chops and wors please."

"OK"

"Can you tell me more now?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Well... everything I suppose."

Roger laughed. "OK, I can understand that. I will tell you a bit more about what is happening here, but most of if I am afraid you will have to learn once we are through the gate."

"OK, can I help with that?"

"Sure. You can put the grid on. It looks as if the coals are ready. I’ll grab some drinks. Another Coke?"

"Yes please."

I put the grid onto the braai and accepted the Coke gratefully from Roger as he returned.

Roger busied himself with putting the meat on the braai and opening his beer, while I waited fairly patiently. I could see that he was gathering his thoughts and, I guessed, deciding what to tell me.

Eventually he started "I have been doing this a long time. I was already old when I got recruited. I had just turned 82 and was suffering tremendously from arthritis and had all the early indicators from Parkinsons. I was approached in a similar way by someone else and made the same choice that you have. War World sorted out all my medical issues and I have done quite well there. Those of us who do well are allowed to recruit other people to join us. I chose you because you seem to meet the criteria that I figured would do well on War World. I am what you would call a Platoon Commander, but I hope to get my own Company in the near future, and I need to have people I think will be able to advance and be a valuable part of my company.

"Just by the way, we don’t call them platoons and companies on War World, I am just using the closest terms that you will be familiar with.

"You will find that things are really different on War World from what you know, but just remember to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut in the beginning and listen to everything that you are told. It is all important. More than that, listen to what the veterans have to say, but make up your own mind. A lot of them are doomed to repeating their mistakes and never progress.

"If you do well, then you will find that there are also a lot of things that will feel familiar to you. It turns out that being a soldier involves concepts that are pretty universal.

"What would you say that the most important skills are for a new soldier to master?"

I knew that this was a test, but I had no hesitation in saying "Sleep whenever you get a chance, eat everything you can lay your hands on and look after your feet and rifle."

Roger laughed. "You just confirmed my choice. That’s it exactly. You have no idea how many ‘soldiers’ never learn those lessons?"

I kept quiet because I thought it was a rhetorical question, but when Roger gave me an interrogatory look, I ventured to guess "All the ones who don’t survive?"

Roger just nodded, but he had a satisfied look on his face, so I figured he liked that answer too. While we were talking he had thrown my chops and his piece of steak on the grill. Now he added a big roll of boerewors. The smell of the meat braaing was starting to drive me crazy, as I realised I hadn’t eaten at all the whole day.

"Could you take a look in the fridge and grab the potato salad there?" Roger asked me.

"Sure." I went into the small kitchen and fished the salad out of the fridge and grabbed some forks at the same time. While I was there, I heard the sound of some cars arriving. I carried the stuff outside to the picnic table near the braai, and watched as Roger greeted the new arrivals.

It was clear to me that the six people who had arrived had exactly the same relationship to each other as that between Roger and I; each pair was a combination of one person who had been to the War World and one who was newly recruited.

I watched for a while to see if I could justify that thought with something more concrete than a ‘gut feeling’ and eventually decided that it had something to do the the situational awareness that I had noted in Roger the first time I laid eyes on him. These people were aware of what was going on around them all the time. I decided wryly that sneaking up behind one of them and shouting ‘BOO’ would not be a good idea.

Roger turned to me and said "Cy, let me introduce you to some people. This is Ben, Gill and Rob. The people with them are John, Steven and Desrae. They will be going to War World with us in the morning."

I was surprised to see that there were women in the group. I don’t know why, there had been no barrier to their entry to the army for at least ten years, but I suppose I was still a product of my experience. The three that Roger had introduced first, were the three that I had guessed had been to War World before. All three had a similar look; they were lean and wiry with an under-lying strength. Ben was tall; six foot 4 at a guess, Rob was around six foot; just slightly taller than me and Gill was about 5 foot 5. I couldn’t judge their ages any closer than I had Roger’s, and I already knew how unreliable that was. The other three were different. They felt like ordinary people I might have met anywhere..John was young. I guessed around 23 or so. He was also tall but pretty seriously over-weight. Steven looked about my age, with a bit of a pot-belly and Desrae was a stereotypical grey-haired granny.

I greeted each of them with a handshake.

Roger called me to fetch my meat from the braai. While I helped myself, the others all dumped their things in the Rondavel.

"What’s up with this lot?" I asked Roger.

"The same as you." he replied.

"But the Granny?"

"Will be sorted out like I was. I told you the medical technology is pretty amazing."

"Ok." I accepted what Roger told me, but I could see that I still hadn’t quite grasped what I was getting into.

When everyone had settled down and most had their cooked meat from the braai, Roger called for everyone’s attention.

"Alright, now that we are all together, let’s go over the ground rules. Thank you all for making the decision to join us on War World. I know that you have been given only the barest amount of information, but that will be rectified rapidly once we arrive there. We will be going through the gate at dawn. I will wake those of you who are asleep at zero four thirty so that we can be ready by zero five hundred. Each of your sponsors will check the stuff you have brought with you and anything that is not permitted will be placed in the safe for you to collect on your return. That includes any technology and any metal. Weapons are specifically forbidden as is all jewelry. In fact metal, and particularly iron, cannot travel through the gateway and will prevent the gateway from working. Once we get through the gateway the new recruits will be received by the reception cadre and start processing before continuing to basic training. Once you have completed your training, we will have first option on your service as we recruited you, so we should be seeing all of you again.

"Please remember what your sponsors have told you, especially that it is vitally important to play close attention to your training as everything you learn there is vital for your success on War World.

"For now just relax, have something to eat and drink and then I suggest you get a few hours sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day for you."

I found that I was incredibly drowsy and decided to go straight to bed. It didn’t occur to me to wonder why I was sleepy after sleeping for almost six hours during our journey here.

"Wake up Cy!"

It was Roger. I groaned and rolled off the bunk I had claimed the night before. When I checked my watch it was just approaching zero four thirty.

"OK. Time to get ready. Give me your watch and cell phone and any jewelry you have please?" Roger requested.

I handed over my watch and cell-phone and then looked at the wedding ring on my left hand. I was really reluctant to part with it. It had only been a year since I had lost my wife to a car-hijacker and taking the ring off seemed to be a betrayal of my memory of her.

Roger gave me a sympathetic look, but held his hand out anyway, and I removed the ring and gave it to him. He placed everything into an envelope and put it into the safe.

The rest were going through the same exercise with their sponsors, and in short order we were all standing outside with the remainder of our belongings.

Roger led the way as we walked through the dew-covered grass and climbed a small kopjie behind the trees. When we got to the top, Roger led us to a huge black rock..

"This is what is called the ‘Memory Stone’," he told us. "It anchors the gateway."

He directed us to stand on the west side of the rock while we waited for the sunrise. As the sun appeared, I saw Roger start to sub-vocalise what looked like some sort of chant, and as the first rays of sun struck the rock, he clapped his hands. As he did so, it seemed to me that the sound echoed for far longer than it should have. I felt a strange pulling sensation, but before I could figure out what it was, everything went grey for a long moment. The next thing I knew was Roger saying "We’re here" and I opened my eyes to see that I was inside a building and there were some people standing in front of me where there had been a rock only moments before.

Chapter 3: The Pickup

I had a lot to think about. On the way home I found my mind churning with what I had been told. It occurred to me that I was jumping into something hugely life-changing with only the scantiest information. For some reason that didn’t bother me. I felt as if I had nothing to lose. When I thought back over my conversation with Roger, I realised he hadn’t even come close to offering proof, and yet I had believed him. I thought about it a bit and then realised that the proof would be what happened when he picked me up.

At home I decided to pack. I ignored Roger’s advice that all I needed was comfortable clothing, I had enough experience of going on operations and training exercises to know that while "everything" would be provided, there were a few comfort rations that I needed to pack for myself. I kept it small and light, just a pack of Rooi-Bos tea, a bag of fresh red chillies from my garden, a packet of curry powder and my cigarette rolling machine with some tobacco. I wasn’t sure whether I would be allowed to take it with me, but I figured I would try. I knew that adding chillies or curry powder would make almost any food palatable and the tea was an absolute necessity. It served the purpose of warming and refreshing as well as ensuring that the taste of any chemical efforts to make water safe for drinking were safely masked. I pondered what else to take and reflected on what Roger had said about weapons and uniforms and decided that I would have to trust him on that, although I made sure that I was wearing a good pair of boots that were well worn in and had seen some hard usage without damaging my feet. I figured that if I was returning to the real infantry where transport was based exclusively on Shank’s Pony, I had better equip myself with the best foot-wear I possessed.

I arranged with a friend to house-sit for me for the month that I expected to be away, and checked that all my monthly bills would be paid automatically from my account. I then spent a day with my business partner going over what he would need to handle while I was away. He moaned as usual, but accepted it; he was used to me going off at odd times so this was nothing new.

On the Thursday morning I was ready early and just sat around and waited. Around 10 am my gate buzzer went off and I walked down to the gate. Roger waved to me from the driver’s seat of a TD5.

I opened the gate and jumped into the passenger’s seat.

"Morning Cy"

"Hi Roger"

"Still up for it?"

"Sure."

"Any second thoughts?"

"Well, I did think that you hadn’t provided any ‘proof’ but I decided to take a chance"

Roger laughed. "Yes. I figured."

"Where are we going?"

"We have about a seven hour drive"

"In the bush somewhere? Is that why you have the Land Rover?"

"The last bit is in the bush. The Land Rover is just because I love the things and I don’t get much chance to drive at all."

"OK." We lapsed into silence and I watched the passing scenery. Roger headed up the N3 and then turned onto the N11 at Ladysmith and headed North. I found myself getting drowsy and dropped off to sleep.

* * *

I jerked awake and was disorientated for a few seconds. A glance at my watch made me realise that I must have slept almost the entire journey. I looked around and saw that we were just turning off the tar road and approaching a large gate. A sign next to the gate announced "Mapungubwe National Park and World Heritage Site". Another old battered sign with faded lettering told us that this had been the "Greefswald Military Base".

I looked at Roger "This is our destination?"

"Yup. You know about this place?"

"I heard about it. Huge braais by the generals and ‘re-education’ of the moffies?"

"Yes. They knew there was something special about it, but they didn’t know what."

"Well... ?"

"Well what?"

"Well what is so special about it?"

"It’s a place of power. People have known about it since antiquity. There are a bunch of Ley lines which come together here and a few other things. That’s not really important though, what is important is that this is where the gateway is."

While Roger was talking, he had shown a pass to the gate-guard and driven through the gate. He avoided the tourist centre and the other installations and turned off on a little side-road that rapidly became little more than a grass track. After about two klicks, we crossed a rise and I could see the lazy Limpopo river ahead of us. We followed the road into a small cluster of trees and stopped outside a small thatch-roofed rondavel.

"Ok. This is the end of the road for now." Roger announced

I climbed out, stretched and yawned. I grabbed my small backpack and followed Roger to the Rondavel. Once we were inside, I could see that it was larger than I had first thought, stretching back into the trees. There was a simple lounge and kitchen, then the rest contained twenty bunk beds.

"Lot of space here. You expecting visitors?" I asked Roger

"Yes. We need to wait for some others to arrive. Our deadline is dawn tomorrow. Why not grab a bunk then we can make a fire for a braai outside and we can chat about what you can expect?"

"Sure."

I threw my bag onto onto one of the nearest beds and joined Roger outside.

"I meant to ask you about what I am allowed to take with me."

"Not much," Roger grunted as he started setting up the firewood, "you will be provided with everything you need."

I told him what I had in my bag and he laughed.

"Sure. That should be fine. No weapons though, and no technology, like that fancy watch of yours and your cell phone."

"Ok. What do I do with them?"

"We have a safe here. You can put them in there and collect them when you return"

"I wasn’t mistaken, it is only going to be a month?"

"Yes. Not for you though."

"What do you mean?"

"When you return, you will have been gone four weeks, but each week you are away is a year on War World."

That threw me. "Some kind of time dilation?"

"Don’t try to work it out. Doesn’t work. You will just have to accept that some things are as they are." He started humming and it took me a few seconds to recognise the Queen song, It’s a Kind of Magic’, and I laughed. He grinned slyly at me and lit the braai.

Chapter 2: The Offer

Roger just watched me. I guess he must have seen the incredulous look on my face, because he smiled and nodded his head.

"Yup. You heard me right"

"Details. I want details" I begged. "Oh, and proof" I added as an afterthought.

"Ok. Let me explain the basics. I can assume you are interested then" Roger grinned at me.

I gulped from my glass to wet my dry throat and just nodded.

"There is a universe out there that is larger and more complex than I think anyone here on Earth has ever envisioned outside of the science-fiction writers." Roger said without losing his smile. "We live in an old galaxy that has been well seeded with life. There is no ‘Galactic Federation’ or anything like that, but there are a huge number of planets out there with teeming populations. Some of them have been around for a very long time. A surprisingly large number hold humanoid populations, although sometimes you can’t tell from the outside."

Roger paused to take a sip of his draught, and shifted in his chair. From long experience of dealing with people in similar situations, I knew that he was mentally preparing himself to change gear and come to a part of the story he thought was important.

"There has been a lot of very bad conflict out there with countless worlds left burnt out cinders. The solution is what they call ‘War World’. What it boils down to is a neutral environment where planets or nations can settle their differences in limited scale battles."

"Sort of like the proxy wars during the Cold War?" I interjected. I had always battled to keep my mouth shut long enough to just hear what was being said. My mind always raced ahead trying to predict the course and destination of any conversation.

Roger smiled at me. "Exactly!"

I sensed his relief that I had made the intellectual leap, not only to guess where he was headed, but also to accept what he was saying as real and acceptable.

"There is a lot of detail that we can’t really get into without a commitment from you, but the basics are that I want to recruit you to join me on War World and explain the benefits to you. Once you accept that, then we can move on." Roger looked at me, obviously waiting for a reaction.

"Benefits?" I asked on cue and watched Roger’s contented smile. He seemed happy enough that I had taken his bait.

"Yup. Some pretty impressive ones I think. How old do you think I am Cy?"

I looked at him. "I can’t really tell, somewhere between thirty and fifty is all I can guess"

Roger laughed. "Actually, I am a WW1 veteran."

"What? How is that possible?"

"Like I said: benefits" Roger grinned.

"Ok. Don’t stop there, explain, and please ignore my interruptions" I encouraged him.

"There is a lot of technology surrounding the War World, just not a lot that the soldiers there can actually access. How it works is that there is a support infrastructure which uses technology to manage the place and to arbitrate the continuous wars. At first it seems like magic, but after a while it becomes somehow common-place. There are two very important aspects, the rest are essentially details which you will discover as you go along.

"The first aspect is that the technology available to combatants is restricted to the crudest levels. This means there is no transport other than your own two legs, no weapons other than swords, shields and knives, in fact in a lot of ways it is more ‘backward’ than on Earth more than three thousand years ago. On the other hand, what we do have is clearly the product of technology far in advance of our own. The construction of the swords, the composition of the fabric that we use for our uniforms and various other things are all incredible.

"The second aspect is that the medical technology is beyond compare. Essentially, if your brain survives intact, then you will survive. No-one knows how it is done, but there has been talk of nanites, which is simply magic by another name as far as I am concerned.

"Still interested?"

I just nodded at Roger. My head was spinning. This sounded incredible, but so far nothing Roger had said had made me think about backing out, in fact I was becoming impatient with the long honeymoon. I wanted him to cut to the chase now.

"Ok. Enough beating about the bush, how do we go about doing this?" I asked him.

"How about I pick you up three days from now? Do you think that’s enough time for you to prepare for an absence of a month?"

"Ok. Thursday then? I guess you know where I live. What do I need to bring?"

"Just dress comfortably. Everything will be provided".

I felt like I was floating on air as I walked out of the mess.

Chapter 1: The Approach

I thought it was SPAM.

It had become more and more intrusive and offensive and not less so, in spite of all the effort that was put into place in an attempt to curb it.

Unfortunately, I had no option other than to wade through each message and check each one. One of the prices of doing business on the internet... I couldn’t afford to miss a message that could turn into an order, or a query or complaint from a customer.

Rather than SPAM, it was a message that signalled a major watershed in my life!

WAR BROTHERS was the subject. Then "Are you a soldier at heart?"

Interesting question. True. I had been a reservist for 20 years, and took great pleasure in running the Battalion’s training program, taking a lot of time out of my personal life to do so. I could not explain the attraction to anyone who didn’t feel the same, although my wife had achieved the best insight after the many years we had been together.

"Starting to feel that mid-life crisis or that you wish you had it all to do over again?"

Damn right! At fourty-five it was dawning on me that I would never again be able to expect my body to deliver what I asked of if without thought. Everything was starting to get more difficult to achieve physically, while my body got softer. I had caught myself on more than one occasion standing in the mess and saying things that I had vowed I never would... all those things that I had mocked as a youngster. In my head I was still eighteen, but it was getting harder every day to ignore what I saw in the mirror.

"Do you still have a sense of adventure?"

Damn right!

"If you are interested in finding out more, reply to this email and one of our consultants will get back to you."

So I replied. The risk was fairly minimal. At worst the disposable email address would have to be trashed if I found I starting picking up too much SPAM. And that was it, two minutes out of my day. I really didn’t expect much to come of it, and I put it aside and almost forgot all about it.

* * *

Three days later I got a call on my cell-phone. I hate it when it shows "Number Withheld" because I like to mentally prepare myself before answering the call... but that’s just a pet peeve.

"Cy Peter, good morning" It’s my standard greeting and if it sounds like I am telling someone to sigh, blame my parents for naming me that.

"Good Morning. This is Roger de Vries. Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Sure. How can I help you".

"You replied to an email a few days ago with the subject War Brothers and I am following up on that."

That was a surprise. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. I had certainly not expected to receive a phone call, and especially not from someone local. I had thought that I would get some sort of email outlining a corporate ‘team building’ exercise. The other option, that this was a mercenary recruiting exercise, was that one that I half feared and wished for however.

"Ok. Thanks for calling. Sorry for the pause, I was just a little thrown for a second there."

Roger laughed. "Yes, we get that a lot. Would you prefer to talk on the phone or could we meet somewhere for coffee?"

"Well... I am very interested to hear what you have to discuss, so I would prefer to hear as quickly as possible. I would prefer to meet in person, but I suppose the phone will have to do."

"Not at all," Roger surprised me, "I am here in Durban and I have a number of people to speak to. I would also prefer to speak to you in person. Do you have a recommendation for a place we could meet?"

I thought about it for a few seconds then decided that I was frustrated enough with what I was doing, and intrigued enough about the topic to want to meet.

"How about we meet at our NCO’s mess? They have a pub that opens at 10H00 and we can chat there?" I asked him.

"Sure," he replied, "See you at 10" and hung up the phone.

It only struck me afterwards that he hadn’t asked which regiment, nor where it was.

* * *

I was sitting at a table in the NCO’s mess before 10. I like to be in a position where I can watch the person I am meeting arrive. It also establishes that I am the one on home ground. These things are more important than most people think as they can effect the balance between people in a meeting.

When Roger arrived however, he seemed faintly amused, as if he knew exactly what I was doing, and why, and it obviously didn’t bother him. My first impression when I saw him was that he was a soldier in civvies or an athlete. There was something undefinable about the way he carried himself that said that he was completely comfortable in his body, and aware of everything around him. He wasn’t staring around, but I got the impression that his single scan of the room had identifed each entry and exit, catalogued every possible avenue of threat and stored that information for use if it became necessary. I was also convinced that it was a totally automatic process that he wasn’t even consciously aware of. Somehow this caused the hair on my neck to stand up, because it was the first indicator that whatever this guy did, it was not corporate ‘team-building’. I had seen that level of unconscious competence 20 odd years before, and it was normally exhibited by Special Forces types just out of the bush.

I stood up and reached out a hand to greet Roger. As we shook hands, it occurred to me that we were the same height. Roger was lean and wiry. Not muscular, but there was strength there.

I invited Roger to sit and offered him something to drink.

"I’ll have a draught please. I have been talking all morning and my throat is dry."

I got him a draught and myself a coke and and we sat.

"Thanks for meeting with me Cy," Roger started. "I am sure that you are curious as all hell."

"Damn right. I almost spam-binned your email. I dunno what made me actually read it, never mind reply," I laughed

"OK. Let me go through my spiel and keep any questions to afterwards if you don’t mind. Some of what I have to tell you might be hard to believe."

"OK" I grunted, wondering where this was all leading.

"Alright. We have done a background check on you. There is very little that we don’t know from the available records. We know your military history, and we have seen all your online activities. Your FaceBook Profile, your Google-Groups memberships and the various military forums and lists that you belong to. All of these have led us to think that you would be open to an approach from us."

I was starting to get a little concerned. This sounded a little too much like ‘Big Brother’.

Roger seemed to understand this and went on to reassure me "We are not a government agency, nor do we belong to some fringe group. In fact, what we do is literally ‘out of this world’"

"OK. Now you have me seriously confused. Who are you then?" I asked

"I was just like you. I was recruited and took up the offer that was made to me, and now I am spending some time acting as an agent to recruit others before I return. The truth is that what is involved sounds like some sort of Science-Fiction." He paused, obviously to gauge my reaction, before continuing. "There is a ‘gate’ to another world, and what I offer lies beyond it."

To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement.

Blog: Writing Method

mmm Well. the comments have slowed down. One comment I have received though from various people is that the chapters are too short. I figured I should explain:
1. I think the chapters are more like long paragraphs in that they hold a partcular "scene" or series of related paragraphs and that the length fits this rather than some arbitraily imposed size
2. I trend to write in chunks of this size as time and opportunity allows, and I prefer to post once I have written a chunk.
3. I am writing primarily on my cell phone. I have a Samsung i850 with Windows Mobile on it, and I use pocket word to write when I am taking a smoke break. When I am sitting behind my office computer or with my laptop, I feel compelled to actually "work", whereas when I am sitting out side with my phone, I don't feel nearly as guilty. I also make use of the small gaps of opportunity that crop up during the day such as waiting for my daughters when I pick them up from school, waiting for others to arrive for a business meeting, when I am on the toilet or lying in bed before going to sleep or in an airplane etc. Little bits at a time, inbetween other things.

This is also why my first posts of chapters can be a little hairy. I am trying to ensure that first posts are a little better though as I realise that if I get it wrong and that is the first exposure that someone has to my story, they could stop reading right there.

On another topic, I have had one comment pointing out an inconsistency in that no metal is allowed through the gateway, so Cy and co have to remove watches etc.. but "What about the metal eyelets in their shoes,
zippers in their pants, snaps on their pants, belt
buckles. what if any of them had any metal plates
or screws in them etc."
Has this bugged anyone else?
Also, did anyone pick up on the "Iron" phobia/Sidhe thing before Cy got to War World?
Hope you are still enjoying the story...