[Arthur gets betrothed to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marie_of_France,_Duchess_of_Brabant
Angers castle was the foundation of Angevin power1. It was built on the banks of the Mayenne River. It east wall was 660 blank paces long along the west bank of the Mayenne River, the sixty foot wall face of only [opened] by slit windows used by archers. Three of the remaining five walls had towers bristling with archers and boiling oil. Its two remaining walls – away from the River – had 4 towers. each. The towers were 6 paces in diameter [its walls were] 60 feet high [, and its] The towers were crenellated, to accommodate archers and other counter-seige weapons, like devices to heat and pour boiling oil. There were 50 archers per tower, more or less.
[Marie, Duchess of Brabant and daughter of Philip II, is betrothed to Arthur in 1202. She is 4 years old.]
The Princess’ face could barely be seen because of the spray of tafetta which exploded out of her shoulders, and the flower-laden bonnet which covered her head. Her three attendants were dressed in clean linens. They each wore an accessory which indicated their affiliation to House Capet. The Lady in Waiting, Marie-Anne de Chambord, twelfth child of the Count, wore a blue sash emblazoned with white fleurs de lys. Her two assistants – the thirteen year old twin daughters of a cousin of Burgundy – wore blue bonnets.
“Why did you tell me he’s a king?!”, she stamped her foot impetuously.
“At least he’s Duke of Brittany.”
“I don’t want least, I want most!”
“Many people think Arthur is King.”
“But his uncle John was crowned in Winchester!”
“Do you even know what Winchester, is Princess Marie?”
This stumped her. She had no idea and made a wild guess. True to nature, she answered confidently, “Its a boat!”
The Burgundian twins tittered. This enraged the Princess, who said. “Flog them!”
The twins immediately stopped laughing and came to attention. In other circumstances they would have been flogged. But in those circumstances they would not dared to have laughed.
The Lady in Waiting was annoyed, “Princess Marie, this is the first time I’m going to say this, but I will say it again and again. There are boundaries. Do you know what a boundary is?”
“A … divider.” The Princess hestitated, not from ignorance but awe.
“For example …?”
“Chateau Gaillard. On one side are our people, on the other side are … enemies.”
“Burgundy is on our side.” She nodded sternly at the twins. “They were wrong to laugh at you, but you were equally wrong to talk about something you didn’t understand. ”
“So what?”
“If they were enemies it wouldn’t matter. But flogging – violence – turns friends to enemies.”
“Flog them any way. They can’t harm me.”
…
Arthur and de Roches were on the opposite side of the large room, watching the Princesses entrance.
Arthur said, “She shows great potential.”
De Roches shot back, “What the fuck does that mean? She doesn’t have potential, she is the daughter of the King of France. That’s just a fact.”
“I mean that she is a lovely girl. She will be beautiful when she grows up.”
“She’s four years old! Have you chosen a mistress yet?” De Roches grabbed Arthur and faced him head on. “You know the rules. Noble widows with their own income, and the daughter of any commoner you can afford to pay off. No merchants’ or lawyers’ lasses. They’re too expensive.”
“I will take care of all of my children, legitimate or not and regardless of the cost!”
“Arthur, knocking up some squire’s daughter will get you killed. Do you understand?”
“Of course.”
“No you don’t! No lad does. Hear this, if nothing else, Arthur Plantagenet Duke of Brittany: tread carefully. King John and King Philip would rather you were dead.”
“What? I know John wants to kill me, but my betrothed is King Philip’s daughter.”
“Philip doesn’t love you. He thinks John will kill you first.”
Arthur began to speak but was interrupted by Marie Capet’s Lady-in-Waiting. She was more persistent than usual, eager to cut off her discussion with the vindictive Princess.
She said, “If I may?”
Arthur, glad to end his conversation with de Roches, turned his full attention to her.
“Welcome mi’lady”. He picked up her right hand and kissed it. She twittered. De Roches and Chambord scowled at each other.
“Shall I call you King or Duke?”
“I love you already. I must confess, I am not yet King of England, but under Salic law I should be.”
“Norman”, de Roches corrected.
Arthur continued, ignoring de Roches, “I love you already.”
She smiled.
“Can I give you a token. Our marriage is the decision of others. I’d like to make it personal. Is there anything here you would like?”
“Your sword!”
He laughed. “I cannot do that. It is a special present to me. What what about the belt that holds the knife?”
“It is a boy thing.”
“That is appropriate. It is to remind you of me. Look at it? Isn’t it …”
“Marvellous”
He took [the knife] out of the holster and then unlatched the belt it hung on and said, “Its unlike anything found it Christendom”.
“What is this symbol?”
She pointed at a circle within a circle.
“That is the design of an ancient Greek priest named Pythagoras”
“The ancient Greeks didn’t have priests! They were pagans!”
“You are very wise.”
“I have good teachers, though I have a lot to learn. I thought Winchester was a boat!”
They all smiled, even the twins.
“What does the symbol mean?”
“I was told it means that one thing – anything – is part of everything. And everything is God.”
“That sounds Christian … ”
“No need to talk about religion, child. Thank Duke Arthur.”
She curtsied and thanked him.
She turned the strange belt over. On the reverse side, in tiny beads was a picture of a white bull and a black scorpion, in a circle. The bull chased the tail of the scorpion, which chased the tail of the bull. She began to ask what it meant when Lady Chambord said, “Time to go, pup. There will be plenty of time later to catch up.”
Keep the attack on Angers or not. Its written, but …
The allied/Ithilen army had three counterweight trebuchets, which were positioned along the east bank of the River, just out of range of the defender’s arrows.
These devices were quickly set up but were not armed, because the [boulders] used for ammunition were too heavy to float, so took longer to move. The ammunition was several days behind the main force.
The project was complicated by the refusal of the Lady Ithilaen to use slaves.
Burgundy provided two mangonels, which were similar to the trebuchets but required twenty men to operate. These arrived with the first load of ammunition.
Time was against the attackers, because the Plantagenets controlled the bridge and the river, and all of the countryside west to Nantes and south to Bordeaux, an area that could easily muster enough soldiers to outmatch the allied force.
[insert map]
Arthur Plantagenet was unknown. The French/Ithilaen party knew he had mustered but did not know where he was going to attack. He was the liege of Mayenne and Touraine, but their loyalty was ultimately to a Capet – Philip Augustus – not to a Plantagenet pretender.
Were there were ways out for Arthur? If he accepted John as King perhaps John would let him live. Corrupted by the Ring, few expected this to happen.
…
While the besiegers assembled and tested their engines, the Angevins stockpiled grain and weapons. They were able to do so because a company of Norman knights controlled the west side of the bridge. The French / Ithilaen force was fixing a bridge upstream, which had been destroyed. Laden carts and men on horseback to pass through the opened portcullises. Only one gate was open at a time, in the event of a surprise attack.
The passage was controlled by an iron-grated door, which was now noisily being raised. Fifty pikemen formed a half-circle around the exit to the gate.
Peasants flocked around the gates. The were being allowed in to the inner keep, but slowly. The food carts took priority. Bribes were being taken.
The French force camped just out of reach of the Norman arrows along the north and eastern walls. They did not have the forces to hold the western side of the Mayenne River, which was where the Normans held their reserves, [two cohorts of pikemen] and five more of infantry, who could be supported by archers and knights from the fortress. A full siege would be impossible unless the western shore of the Mayenne could be taken.
…
De Blois, Damartin, and a nephew of Burgundy had arrived. De Blois, who considered himself the actual leader of this expedition, both because of seniority and power, said, “Tell the Bactrians to rescue him from the English. They must not let him go free. He is valuable.”
The power of the Ring did not exist independently of human vice. It mattered who bore it. A weak person would do little with it, or conversely, the Ring could do little with a weak person. Despite his drinking and his lazyness Robert was not weak. When the time came to fight he was always suited up and ready. He had inflicted far more wounds than he had received. In part that was because he chose his enemies carefully, but even that was part of his strength.
For days he had been overwhelmed by the Ring’s power. He had moved and acted like a marionette, but he was not. The Ring was trying to propel him to do things, but it did not yet know what he could do. And he resisted because he did not understand its power, so shielded himself.
The Ring was not an agent. It had to act through its bearer. It needed an agent.
…
“The London men refuse to attack. They say death is certain unless they defy your orders.”
“What do you think?”
“I agree. With due respect we should back off before we destroy ourselves. Focus on controlling the rivers, rather than dying attacking castles.”
The frankness of the man impressed the Seneschal (de Mayenne), but nevertheless his words enraged him. Not because they were false, but because he hated defeat. If this had been a game of chess he would have turned over the table at this point.
“If we take this castle we defeat the Plantagenets. Do you understand?!”
His anger was like something he’d never experienced before.
The sergeant’s eyes started to bulge. His skin became flushed; his face puffy. He floated slowly into the air. The man began to struggle wildly against the air and then clutched his throat as he began to suffocate.
…
“Take me to these London men.” The force of John’s thought flung the hapless soldier forward until he hit a tree. He crumpled and then was animated by the force of John’s will.
His megalomania fed on his anger and he grew more powerful still.
When no answer was forthcoming Robert probed the man’s mind and learned where the reluctant soldiers were. They were around the corner from the south-east gate, in the protection of a copse of trees.
He was enraged yet denied what he knew to be true. He had been defeated. But he could control these farm boys. He might not be able to win, but he could inflict damage.
…
The attack began at dawn.
Despite brutal efforts to clear the field, there were hundreds of local farmers just out of range of the main battle. They were all armed crudely, with scythes and forks. These were a slight deterrent to a knight, but no one mistook them for participants as long as they did not get in the way. When the Mayenne boys, who were local, stormed the south east tower a wail went up and a dozen women ran in to the battle field shouting, “Stop! This is madness! Run!” Several were immediately trampled by mistake, the rest stopped and carefully began to retreat. Except for one lithe young woman with golden red hair who ran through the entire tumult unscathed, and stopped beside the one man from the London companies who had resisted his will.
John tried to control this couple, but the effort caused the rest of the attacking men to waver and fall back – or down, if on ladders and turrets. Robert gave up trying to control them, but remembered what they looked like, because they were either haffen-aelf or saint, either way an enemy.
For all other men, if they had a single breath in them he could propel them. So most of the three companies made it to the crown of the towers that controlled the south-east gate even though they were mostly dead. Soldiers were pierced by quivers of arrows in each limb
The Ring cautions, Stop.
…
The first wave of soldiers attacked hesitantly. The main body of the reluctant soldiers were three companies from Mayenne. Locals. Duke Robert read their minds. They knew all the stories about failed attacks on Angers castle. Many had seen previous armies, from Touraine and Burgundy try to breach the castle walls and die.
Farm boys rushed in first, with shields over their heads. Their job was to protect the archers, who rushed in behind them.
The pikemen held back, just out of range of the Angevin arrows, protection in the event the Angevins released their knights.
To their surprise the Angevins allowed them to raise siege ladders and begin climbing before fighting back, save for arrows, which were sparingly being shot at the attackers from the two keeps, which guarded the wall the attackers were trying to breach.
There was a loud creaking sound. No one could see what was happening. Suddenly wooden cranes moved cauldrons directly above the French ladders. The cauldrons were filled will boiling pitch which was spilled onto the hapless French soldiers, who fell screaming to their deaths.
When the cauldrons were emptied they were quickly and squeakily pulled away, and replaced by two rows of Angevin and Norman archers. As this happened, a magonel sent a rock crashing into one of the cranes. This was followed in short order by two more rocks, which fell short, killing several French soldiers when they ricocheted off the wall and fell to the ground. A fourth shot took out one of the crenellation and several Angevin bowmen.
But the battle was one-sided. The attackers had the better vantage, and were relentless. His fortress was mighty, but not prepared.
John could feel his men wavering, so he held them in place with his will, to fight and certainly die. He moved his reinforcements into the breach caused by the massacred first wave, to the base of the tower where the oil had been spilt, accompanied by squires with shields to protect them.
[Alienor turns things around She sensed the power of the Ring. It was more powerful than she was. At least for now. Her magic was rusty. It had not been used for an age.]
The Ring was more powerful than she was. But John was a weak vessel, so the power of the Ring was leaky / dispersed. The Bactrians assisted her. The animated corpses exploded into dust.
The gates open and John, surrounded by English Knights, Winchester, X, Y (who?) charged south-west, on the Nantes Road, abandoning the castle.
Alienor – I know where he is going. Do not destroy this castle. Reinforce it. Hold it. You know how to take it. She dashed across the river. She blasted the few knights who guarded the crossing and raced south unopposed. But she did not take the Nantes Road. John was headed to Mirbeau. She raced due south, along a path cut out through a field of wheat.
[Alienor turned to face them, her back to the now open gate. She said, “Mayenne, Touraine, de Blois destroy nothing. You want to take this castle and keep it. Fortify it. Do this and you will never fear House Plantagenet again.”]
The haffen aelves were left with the problem of breaching the walls. They could sense that the defenders felt defeated. But there were thick oaken doors reinforced by steel and protected by archers between them and their goal.
The French prepared a direct assault. The haffen aelves bade them back. “Let us work on the weakest points, the portcullises and doors.”
Aelven magic depended on the presence of life. There was so very little in the rock, mortar, timber and iron that supported the gate. The haffen-aelves, solemn expressions on their faces, approached the gate – now closed – that John had just raced from. It began to vibrate.
The thick oaken wood caught fire. The mortar crumbled. The stones cracked.
And the gate fell open.
The Bactrians gave way to the Duke de Mayenne, the senior member of the French Party. De Blois – everyone’s senior – had declined to participate on account of his gout. The French Knights gathered round.
A voice – amplified by a conical tube – shouted out, “We will surrender without terms to the Duke de Mayenne. Save us from the Norman sorcerer!”
A meets with Mayenne. “
Alienor to her Marshall – I must get to Mirbeau before John does.
0
Outtake
To Chateau Gaillard
…
Coronation of King John
Perhaps skip the marriage and have this take place afterward and focus on how Isabella is OK with being Queen and how John plans to attack Arthur. [http://professor-moriarty.com/info/thisday/john-england-marries-isabella-angoul%C3%AAme-1200]
Un Dieu, un Roy, une Foy, une Loy.
When Isabelle d’ Angoulême, Queen of England was born on 19 February 1188, in Angoulême, Charente, Poitou-Charentes, France, her father, Aymar Taillefer Comte d’Angoulême, was 27 and her mother, Alice de Courtenay, was 27. She married John King of England on 24 August 1200. They were the parents of at least 2 sons and 3 daughters. She died on 31 May 1246, in Fontevrault-l’Abbaye, Maine-et-Loire, Pays de la Loire, France, at the age of 58, and was buried in Fontevrault-l’Abbaye, Maine-et-Loire, Pays de la Loire, France.
August 1200 to marry Isabella of Angoulême. In order to remarry, John first needed to abandon Isabel, Countess of Gloucester, his first wife; John accomplished this by arguing that he had failed to get the necessary papal permission to marry Isabel in the first place – as a cousin, John could not have legally wed her without this
Isabella is crowned Queen on October 8, 1200
Makes John an enemy of Hugh de Lusignan, an important member of a key Poitou noble family and brother of Raoul de Lusignan, the Count of Eu, who possessed lands along the sensitive eastern Normandy border.
Backstory to Britany Rohan: En 1162, Henri II oblige le puissant seigneur breton Raoul, baron de Fougères, à lui céder la châtellenie de Combourg-Dol dont il vient juste d’être nommé tuteur. Raoul, excédé de l’emprise grandissante du monarque anglais, forme une coalition de grands seigneurs sous la conduite d’Eudon II de Porhoët et d’Hervé de Léon. Proclamé duc en 1156, Conan IV doit abdiquer en 1166 quand Henri II envahit la Bretagne à la tête d’une armée et dévaste les villes insurgées dont Fougères et son château, fief de Raoul. Le duc, trop affaibli pour pouvoir continuer à régner, se voit imposer par Henri II des alliances matrimoniales. Pour mieux contrôler la Bretagne, Henri II fiance deux enfants : son fils Geoffroy âgé de 7 ans et l’héritière Constance, fille de Conan IV et âgée de 4 ans. Henri II se fait reconnaître comme gardien du duché jusqu’à la majorité de Geoffroy.
In 1196 Arthur becomes duke. He’s 9 years old (b1187-1203). His mother Constance is co-Duke.
Son prénom est rare pour l’époque mais témoigne de la popularité croissante du mythe d’Arthur chez les Plantagenêts3. Enfant, Arthur est élevé dans le duché de Bretagne sous la garde de sa mère Constance et avec l’accord des souverains Henri II, son grand-père, puis de Richard Cœur de Lion, son oncle. Pendant l’hiver 1190, ce dernier, sans enfant, fait savoir qu’il considère Arthur comme son héritier légitime au trône4. En mars 1191, Richard obtient du roi de France la reconnaissance de son autorité sur la Bretagne, en tant que duc de Normandie et le droit de recevoir l’Hommage lige du duc breton5.
Jean sans Terre signe son triomphe en mai 1200 au Traité du Goulet : Philippe Auguste le reconnaît comme l’héritier de la totalité de l’empire Plantagenêt13. Abandonnés par le capétien, Arthur et sa mère n’ont d’autre choix que de prêter hommage au souverain anglais pour la Bretagne14. En septembre 1201, la duchesse Constance meurt. Arthur devient le nouveau duc de Bretagne. Il ne semble pas hériter par contre du comté de Richmond que sa mère détenait en Angleterre, qui revient à sa demi-sœur Alix de Thouars15.
En avril 1202, Philippe Auguste rompt la paix faite avec Jean sans Terre et par conséquent, favorise à nouveau Arthur. Le jeune prince participe à la campagne du roi de France en Normandie. Après la prise de Gournay-en-Bray, il est armé chevalier par Philippe16. Ce dernier va jusqu’à le fiancer à sa fille Marie. Il est proclamé duc de Bretagne, comte d’Anjou, du Maine, de Touraine et de Poitou. À charge pour lui de s’emparer de ces territoires17. Âgé de 15 ans, Arthur peut maintenant jouer un rôle plus actif. Toutefois son élan est vite interrompu : en août 1202, alors que l’adolescent assiégeait la ville de Mirebeau (près de Loudun) où était réfugiée sa grand-mère Aliénor d’Aquitaine, principal soutien de Jean sans Terre contre Philippe Auguste, Guillaume de Briouze le capture. Ce dernier le détient sous sa garde à Falaise puis à la Tour de Rouen.
But John’s success quickly unravelled, in part because of the way he treated his prisoners. The king took the knights he had captured at Mirebeau back to Normandy in carts, heavily shackled and chained. ‘He kept his prisoners in such a horrible manner and in such abject confinement’, commented the author of The History of William Marshal, ‘that it seemed an indignity and a disgrace to all those with him who witnessed his cruelty’. Some, like Arthur, were imprisoned in Normandy, but John had so many captives that he sent dozens of them across the Channel to be kept in castles in England.
Because the king refused to enter into negotiations with Arthur’s supporters about the possibility of their lord’s release, they continued in their rebellion. In October 1202 they succeeded in capturing two of his principal cities, Angers and Tours, and by the end of the year John was forced to withdraw to Normandy. Becoming increasingly desperate, John first seems to have given orders for Arthur to be mutilated – orders which were not carried out. Then, in January, he apparently tried a different tack, and visited the castle at Falaise where Arthur was being held. According to the chronicler Roger of Wendover, the king promised his nephew many honours if he would abandon his struggle, but Arthur replied defiantly, saying he would not desist until John gave up all of the Angevin empire, including England. Wendover’s story draws some support from the fact that John did visit Falaise at the start of 1203 – his enrolled letters show that he arrived there on January 30th and stayed for three or four days.
https://www.historytoday.com/starved-death
Count Baldwin IX of Flanders and Renaud of Boulogne had renewed the anti-French alliances they had previously agreed to with Richard
The powerful Anjou nobleman William de Roches was persuaded to switch sides from Arthur to John; suddenly the balance seemed to be tipping away from Philip and Arthur in favour of John
At the Battle of Mirebeau later that year (1202) John captured Arthur and 200 other knights.
1203 he murders Arthur
Saer de Quincy and wife Margaret, younger sister of the Robert de Beaumont, Earl of Leicester. Friend of Robert Fitzwalter, Together they lose the castle at Vaudreuil in 1203.
Corfe Castle in Dorset, today a hulking ruin, was in its day one of the most splendid royal palaces in England, and a particular favourite of King John. The Plantagenet monarch spent more time there than any at other castle apart from Marlborough, and invested vast sums in redeveloping it, adding spectacular new chambers and royal apartments for his own enjoyment. It was also at Corfe that the king committed one of the most infamous acts of his reign, by having 22 knights starved to death.
This incident has been surprisingly overlooked by historians of John’s reign, who either mention it only in passing, or fail to mention it at all. Yet at the time it clearly ranked as one of the king’s most detestable crimes, alongside his more famous decision to starve to death the wife and son of William de Briouze, and the murder of his own nephew, Arthur.
Although John was the Count of Poitou and therefore the rightful feudal lord over the Lusignans, they could legitimately appeal John’s actions in France to his own feudal lord, Philip.[17] Hugh did exactly this in 1201 and Philip summoned John to attend court in Paris in 1202, citing the Le Goulet treaty to strengthen his case.[17] John was unwilling to weaken his authority in western France in this way. He argued that he need not attend Philip’s court because of his special status as the Duke of Normandy, who was exempt by feudal tradition from being called to the French court.[17] Philip argued that he was summoning John not as the Duke of Normandy, but as the Count of Poitou, which carried no such special status.[17] When John still refused to come, Philip declared John in breach of his feudal responsibilities, reassigned all of John’s lands that fell under the French crown to Arthur – with the exception of Normandy, which he took back for himself – and began a fresh war against John
John initially adopted a defensive posture similar to that of 1199: avoiding open battle and carefully defending his key castles. John’s operations became more chaotic as the campaign progressed, and Philip began to make steady progress in the east. John became aware in July that Arthur’s forces were threatening his mother, Eleanor, at Mirebeau Castle. Accompanied by William de Roches, his seneschal in Anjou, he swung his mercenary army rapidly south to protect her. His forces caught Arthur by surprise and captured the entire rebel leadership at the battle of Mirebeau. It was also probable that Eleanor, elder sister of Arthur, also with a better claim to England, was captured in the battle as well. With his southern flank weakening, Philip was forced to withdraw in the east and turn south himself to contain John’s army.
“Though John defeated the Lusignans, he was still contested by Philip II of France. At some indeterminate point soon afterwards, it is presumed that Arthur was murdered. With Eleanor, Fair Maid of Brittany strictly imprisoned in England, John had secured his throne, but his controversial removal of Arthur turned the support of local counts against him. For the next two years, John dealt so arrogantly with the counts of Anjou and Poitou that large numbers switched sides to support Philip II, who continued to incrementally advance from one hilltop castle to the next in Normandy. This culminated in the Siege of Château Gaillard, which ended in 1204. John’s relief attempts were defeated, the castle fell, and his position in France was destroyed.
The captivity of Eleanor prevented her from succeeding Brittany, ending the line of succession of Geoffrey Plantagenet; the effective successor was Alix half-sister of Arthur from House of Thouars.”
…
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siege_of_Ch%C3%A2teau_Gaillard
The forces of King John surrendered at Chateau Gaillard on March 6, 1204.
But starvation was a technique that John used time and again after his experiment in 1203. In 1210 he famously used it to destroy Matilda de Briouze and her son, William, who were said to have wasted away in the dungeons of either Corfe or Windsor. He may have used it again in 1212 to punish Geoffrey, archdeacon of Norwich, who was said by several writers have perished in a royal castle after a long and severe confinement.
…
The alternative explanation is that John was simply sadistic. One of the repeated refrains of chroniclers who lived through his reign is that he was cruel. As the quotes above show, the charge of excessive cruelty was levelled against him by both the History of William Marshal and Ralph of Coggeshall. The Anonymous of Béthune, who wrote for a Flemish lord who had fought on John’s side in 1215–16, describes him as ‘a very bad man, more cruel than all others’. Contemporaries, in short, regarded King John as a villain – a criminal (felun) in the words of William Marshal’s biographer.
“Do you have any idea how horrifying it is to be stored in a static bag? Every moment feels like infinity. You have no sensations. You cannot move. And you only have one thought, how in the next moment you will be eaten alive by green bug-eyed Monsters.” Although his audience was sparse, George’s speech was making an impact. Several people had already left in disgust. One frail person had even fainted. “My friends”, Mr. Brash continued, “we must attack the Monsters before they eat every Human in this sector.”
A heckler, as usual, was the first person in the audience to reply to George’s haltingly delivered diatribe, “I think that you underestimate the Monsters, my friend. They are a far more formidable enemy than your easy words imply.”
George bristled as he replied. “Are you kidding me? A dozen cruisers could disable the entire Monster fleet. Forget about what two battleships could do.”
“Do you have two battleships?”, the heckler asked.
“I have access to 6 fully armored cruisers” a balding man with wicked, small eyes interjected. “Even though I think Mr. Brash’s case could have been more articulately made, I agree with his assessment of the Kulnoi.”
George cast a discerning eye over the evil looking gnome who had just spoken. In addition to his beady eyes, he had a crooked smile and grating manner. “This truly is the type of man who would have access to military hardware”, George thought with excitement. “He could help me realize my dream of initiating an illegal military action against Kuln Prime, the Monster’s home world.” The heckler, the audience, indeed the entire university campus became invisible to him. He looked the man in the eye and asked, “What is your name?”
“Richard Chump. Call me Dick.”
George looked away from Dick and toward the dwindling crowd. He inhaled shallowly and then spoke, as if to a throng, “If Mr. Chump can deliver six cruisers to me, the time for talking is over. If there is anyone in this audience who wants to do something about the Monsters, step forward. I am no longer interested in debating with myself.”
Risa, a petite woman who had been standing in the front row while George gave his pitch hesitated. On one hand, George’s insistence that only a violent solution was possible to the Kulnoi problem, disturbed her. She was a good Christian and believed that peace was better than war and that love was better than hate. On the other hand, she was realistic enough to know that some species only understood violence; so violence in foreign relations was inevitable. In the end what swayed her was George’s decisiveness. Humanity couldn’t just do nothing about the Monsters. If she was going to hitch herself to a tugboat, it would be to a tugboat like George who was willing to do something, anything, about Humanity’s greatest foe. She stepped forward.
Jam wasn’t certain why he stepped forward. Certainly, he was, like every right-thinking Human, profoundly concerned about the Monster problem. Perhaps more importantly, he viewed himself as someone who should step forward. He was an unreflective man of action whose skills, experience and attitude were perfect for an illegal military adventure. However, there was no denying that there was something witless and sophomoric about George, so Jam also hesitated. In the end, like Risa, he was charmed by Mr. Brash’s unwillingness to let soft values undermine the pursuit of hard foreign policy goals.
Unlike Jam and Risa, the lobbyist Cruel Rave brought very little to the table, and knew it. “What good are my skills in the heat of battle?” he thought morosely. He was ultimately compelled to volunteer for George’s criminal escapade by his patriotism. “Mr. Brash”, Cruel addressed George in his thin, nasal voice, “I really don’t have too much to offer. All I ever do is spin news stories for my political masters. And I know I’m not much to look at. But I lost a brother at the Battle of Kuln; I hate Monsters as much as anyone.”
George thought as deeply as he could about the problem posed by this pasty-faced, weak volunteer. With his flat feet, drooping paunch and thinning hair he certainly was not an impressive physical specimen. But Mr. Brash also knew that physical health was not that important in a modern, military adventure. It was far more important for a modern warrior to have a wanton, destructive nature than a toned abdomen. “Is this man craven enough to be on my crew?” George thought discerningly. He looked directly into Cruel’s weasel eyes and saw a shiftless,
untrustworthy soul. “You lost family at Kuln?” George said. “I lost my father. “
“Yeah. I heard the static-bag story”, Cruel replied.
This moment of near-intimacy clinched George’s decision “Cruel, you have more than nothing to offer our team. When our expedition stirs things up between Humanity and the Monsters we’re going to need all the spin you’ve got in you, and more.”
§
The group, because they were a clique of criminal adventurers, decided to call themselves the Coterie. They met the next day at Mr. Rheumy’s house.
Although Dundald Rheumy’s house was modest, everything about it suggested more. The casual placement of the clay soldier in the hallway, for example, suggested that Mr. Rheumy could afford the entire Qing army if he so chose. The pyramid by the Jungle-Jim was an homage the Cheop’s tomb. But what impressed George most was that these modest suggestions of wealth and power were real. If Dundald could afford even one battle cruiser he was a very rich man indeed. George understood that Mr. Rheumy knew people who could finance the entire expedition.
George began the meeting without introductions, “Is there any one here who cannot go on a mission immediately? If so, you should excuse yourself. I will have a driver take you home.”
No one stepped forward or backward. It was a room full of heroes.
Dick filled the patriotic lull with a wheez and a hork, “So we’re all in?”
Everyone in the room nodded. §
Now that she was committed to this adventure, Risa wanted to bolster her decision with details. “How long will the mission last?” she asked.
“20 to 30 days tops”, Dundald replied briskly. “Most of that is travel time. I bet our battles only last minutes.”
Risa rubbed her chin pensively, impressed by Dunald’s brisk response.
Despite himself Jam was impressed too. He knew the horrors of war. He’d been shot down and tortured. He had even spent time- an infinity – in a static bag. He knew there was brutality in war, but he also knew there could be glory.. He yearned, all of Humanity yearned, for a big victory. There had been too many stalemates recently. “So what exactly is the mission, gentlemen?”
George answered Jam’s query, “We’re going to liberate the food factory on Kuln’s Moon.”
The room became completely silent at the apparent lunacy of his answer. George burst into a grin. “It is possible. Dundald, would you like to explain?”
Mr. Rheumy strode to one end of the long oak boardroom table. Altough his skin was thinly stretched over his sharp bones, he looked neither gaunt nor weak. “First a bit about myself, I’m a military historian.”
“Sometimes he makes history” Dick interjected with as much smarm as he could muster.
Dundald smirked but continued as if Dick had not spoken, “Most military victories involve a large army overwhelming a small one. Not only is this approach wasteful, it does not guarantee victory. Think of all those battles like Marathon, where a small, organized force defeated a much larger, poorly organized one. If you can sometimes win with a smaller force, why not always win with one, and save money.”
“How is this relevant to the Monsters, Sir?” Risa asked. It was an impatient question, but no one minded. In fact, Dundald’s thin lips disappeared into a smile as he responded, “Imagine a situation where you have a small, overwhelming force”, he said.
“Are there any battleships included in this hypothetical force?” Jam asked. He was not yet convinced by Dundald’s theoretical talk. “
Dunald’s smile was thin and predatory, “After we liberate the Moon.”
Jam gasped. Dundald’s words implied that the Pan-Human navy would intervene, with battleships, against the Monsters if the Coterie‘s escapade was successful. “I’m surprised we only got six cruisers!” Jam exclaimed. “There must be dozens of military contractors who would risk entire fortunes for the chance to profit from a conflict with the Monsters.”
“Six cruisers are five more than we need” Dundald crowed to his audience. “Each cruiser has a munitions factory on board. With access to the metals which are abundant on Kuln’s Moon, these ships could fight for 100 years.”
“Even if we win our battle, how do we ensure we do not initiate a war?” Risa asked.
Cruel, who was barely visible in his padded chair, replied, “Avoid war? Risa, the purpose of this adventure is to start a war. And then quickly win it”, he added as an afterthought.
§
The crew of the Coterie could best be divided into the leaders George, Risa and Jam; the cronies Dick, Dun and Rave; and ten mercenary pilots. This natural division was reflected in their flight plan. Five cruisers were given two pilots each, while the cronies and the leaders piled into the Shill, which became the command ship.
The presence of two cliques on the Shill could have led to trouble but did not. Fortunately, the cronies, whose military strengths were also serious social weaknesses, preferred to keep to themselves. They would sit in the smoking room for hours drinking and reminiscing.Their discussions, by virtue of constant repetition, were nuanced: they would talk for hours about deeper aspects of political philosophy, such as whether it was more fun to harm an innocent opponent or an insufferable prick. Cruel was particularly interested in incarcerating his enemies. When he held forth on penal politics it was as if Plato himself had founded his Republic on the bridge of the Shill.
Conversation did not flow so easily among the leaders as among the cronies. George, in particular was a problem because he was inarticulate to the point of incoherence, but felt that it was incumbent upon himself as their leader to keep the conversation going. Although George was an ineffectual leader his instincts were on the money: it was a good idea to keep the conversation going, because with silence came brooding about what it was like to be eaten alive by green bug-eyed Monsters. §During one occurrence of terror-filled torpor Jam said, “George, you never told us why our ship is called the Shill.”
“It’s a tribute to one of my role models.” George replied. “I chose my role models from among the mediocre. That is because I am not a great man, like Tamerlane or Genghis Khan. I am near-great.”
Risa approved of George’s humility. “It was right that the near-great should be humble”, she thought. “Leave arrogance to the great men, who don’t need it.”
George continued. “My models include leaders like Calvin Coolidge, Madame Chiang Kai-shek and Gerald Ford, people who through extreme serendipity have managed to gain responsibility far in excess of their abilities.”
“Yes. But why the Shill?” Risa was always quick with the impatient questions. Perhaps too quick.
George was not flustered by the aptness of her question. He marshaled his free ranging neurons into a reply, “In the nineteenth century there was a political boss in New York City named Roscoe Conkling. Although Roscoe’s perfidy made him a great politician, it was his near-great protégé, and shill, Chester Alan Arthur who became the 21st President of the United States. I named this ship the Shill in honor of President Arthur, and to remind myself that if I pimp for the right boss, and have a bit of luck, I can make it all the way to the top.”
The well-liquored Mr. Chump’s face twisted into the smile of a curmudgeonly troll. Dick knew that George was a ton of bricks short of a full load, so was always pleased to see wisdom somehow finding a purchase on his slippery, thin brain.
Unfortunately, they could only keep conversation with George going for so long, so George’s moment of lucidity was followed by fearful silence. §
They brooded not only because of their fears but also because there was so little to do. Heroic journeys are mostly prosaic and dull. Like ordinary people, heroes must focus on such issues as where to sleep, how to keep busy and what to eat. Food is always a contentious topic because the food supplies on quixotic missions are inflexible, which causes problems when people discover that the burgers suck and the lasagna is really good. Friendships form because of this. For once in his life Dundald found that his lean and hungry bearing was a social asset, for he rarely ate and was happy to share treats such as chocolate cake. “It is as if you can live on malice alone” Risa, a frequent beneficiary of Dundald’s largess, once noted. He laughed raucously at this remark, for her words were truer than she realized. In contrast, Cruel emerged as a social problem because he was a glutton and lied about it. Worse, he was lazy and would leave the dishes from his food burglaries lying about for others to clean up. After George roughed him up, Mr. Rave’s worst excesses abated. Fortunately for all, Dick’s taste buds had long since been destroyed by booze and cigars, so he didn’t notice the putrid taste and chalky texture of the burgers; he happily fed on these, keeping the peace by leaving extra lasagna for everyone else.
So the crew of the Shill divided their boring days between torpor, idle conversation and eating. The boredom was serendipitous because when Dick finally assembled them together, two days out from their first objective – a military base that spanned between the third and fourth planets in the Kulnoi solar system – the fear of being eaten alive by green bugged-eyed Monsters had given way to a yearning for action.
George’s strategy was bold and simple: they had six ships, they estimated that the Kulnoi had 1 million ships in orbit around the third planet, a gas giant. The Coterie would divide the enemy into five quadrants, one for each of the five mercenary cruisers. The Shill would fire at will. Each cruiser would have a quota of 166,666 kills. When the Kulnoi outpost was obliterated they would use the gas giant to slingshot to Kuln Prime and then liberate its moon.
George’s bold plan caused some consternation. Jam felt that the idea of five quadrants was unclear mathematically speaking; and Risa strongly believed that the Shill should have more of a plan than simply firing at will. The cronies agreed with Jam and Risa. Dick even pointed out that space was three dimensional, and existed within a fourth dimension, time, whereas George’s plan was based on a flat, static view of the universe. Nevertheless, the cronies let George’s plan prevail. The mood on the Shill was that the upcoming battle would be a cakewalk and that quibbling over details would be bad for morale. §
It is one thing to participate in a military brief and quite another to implement it in battle. This weighed heavily on George, who was a rooky leader whose responsibilities far exceeded his abilities. On the morning of their first attack,George sat down beside Jam and asked with a worried voice, “Jam, what is battle like?” The old timers pretended to play poker and Risa pretended to read as they all lent half an ear to Jam’s response.
Jam had heard George’s question a hundred times before, so was ready. “The an easy question to answer George” George sighed as Jam continued, “In battle you give a command to fire, the computer that controls your ship’s artillery fires, the enemy gets killed, your on-board factory makes another bomb, and then you do it again until all of the enemy combatants are dead. Sometimes they surrender before you kill them all; the Kulnoi never do. But that only means we’ll have to kill them all.” The old warrior shrugged.
For once, George was not placated by a simple answer; he wanted to know more, lots more, about battle, “Have you ever seen friendlies get hit?” George asked.
“Yeah, all the time” Jam replied with a stern look on his face. “We’ve got to remember that the Coterie has tremendous fire power. It’s likely that we are a bigger threat to ourselves than the Monsters are to us.” At that point the entire crew, even the cronies, were thankful to have the experience that Jam brought to the team.
Because Jam’s military wisdom flowed deeply and George’s wisdom was like a shallow, dirt-filled eddie, the questions continued, “Is it wrong to kill Monsters, even though they don’t have souls?” George asked.
Jam took a big inhale as he prepared to respond, but Dick cut him off, “Let me field this one, Mr. Fain.” Dick directed his next remark to George, “You don’t need to refer to religion here, my son. You must understand that war, because of its nature, has different ethical guidelines than peace. You can massacre Monsters because they are your enemy. It is a good thing to kill your enemy during wartime, whether they have immortal souls or not.”
“What about starting a war? Surely that must carry heavy moral consequences?” Although George had great respect for Dick’s sophistry, he followed his own moral path.
Dick warmed to his theme. “Wars are often good, George. They can help you better understand who your friends and enemies are, for example.” Dick’s bold answer caused Risa to look at him in a new light. “It is rare to see a moral compass that is so crude yet so finely honed,” she thought admiringly. §
George and the cronies spent the 24 hours before battle working out the details of George’s strategy. By the time they arrived at their first target, the communications outpost that protected the gas giant, the two dimensional side of the battle-plan was pretty much complete. There were some three and four-dimensional details related to artillery trajectories over time that still needed work. George was not worried.
It only took a moment to destroy their first target, a communication satellite. The moment the dust of the dematerialized target disappeared off of their scanners, Jam called the attention of the gunners to their unfinished business, defining how to calibrate artillery in five quadrants while moving. George, as a near-great leader, would not have his troops doing computer work when victorious. Besides, the pilots were mercenaries. They had other priorities. He ordered the pilots to destroy the small fourth planet, and its dozen moons, wisely realizing that this would be good for morale. As she watched George order people about, Risa mused, “Self-importance makes him act like twice the man he is”.
Once they had finished turning the undefended target into trash, George loudly asked to anyone who was listening, “I wonder what they’re saying on Earth about this overwhelming victory?”
“We must maintain communications silence.” Jam said over his shoulder. He was annoyed, although somewhat relieved, by George’s idleness. “At least he isn’t giving anyone any orders.” Jam thought.
“Chill out, Jam, I think that the Kulnoi know that we are here,” Dundald calmly interjected. “After all, we just blew up their outer solar system.”
While Jam struggled to tame a pack of biting replies, Cruel’s insinuating voice piped out of the couch in which he was buried, “Do you really want to see what Humans are watching, George? I wrote the copy before we left. Here, let me show you.” The spin doctor, turned on a screen, which showed Earth news, “Don’t worry Jam – this isn’t real time. Actually, it is, in a way, but its all pre-arranged.
Risa was beyond being impressed at this point. She had read so much about freedom of speech. She was awed to have finally met someone rich enough to afford it. Of course she still saw the news story as spin. She was realistic. The “Heroes of the Shill” were younger, more beautiful versions of themselves; and the destruction of the communication satellite took longer on the news than it had in real life. Who had heard of that! Even Jam, who prided himself on his modesty, had to admit that the story tickled him pink. “It’s been too long since someone – even my publicist – called me a hero,” he thought wistfully.
Although he loved Cruel’s flattering spin, it made George pensive. His family had never used the word “hero” lightly. He came from a long line of people whose near-greatness – the near caused by avarice, laziness and/or narcissism – had left the family utterly devoid of heroes, and acutely aware of why. Not that the Brash family had given up trying to produce a hero. George had been raised to exceed. From birth he had learned that heroism was something exceptional. It came from having the conviction to stand up to nay-sayers, the boldness to draw moral lines, the steadfastness to defend those lines, and the courage to lead the charge against someone else’s moral system and crush it. Without realizing it, George addressed his next words to the entire bridge, “Am I a really a hero because I just blew up this remote communication outpost?”
“You are witless” Dick noted, to general agreement.
George heard Dick’s wise words, nodded his head sagely and said, “I sometimes fear that stupidity may be my tragic flaw.”
Risa would have none of it, “Don’t doubt for a moment Mr. George Brash that you are a hero even if your actions achieve nothing or cause damage.”
Risa’s faint praise brought tears to George’s eyes but failed to bring conversation to his lips. His awkward muteness made him wish that he had produced a detailed battle plan, which could keep minds occupied as the Coterie approached Kuln Prime. Unfortunately, in the quiet hours before their first full-scale engagement, his simple plan left his idle mind free to dwell on the many ways in which the green bug-eyed Monsters eat Humans alive. §
Within hours of destroying the outer solar system they arrived at the third planet from the Kulnoi sun, a gas giant that was currently 200 million kilometers from their ultimate goal, Kuln’s prison moon. They steadied their trajectory 100,000 kilometers above the planet’s surface and prepared their attack.
“Look at your planet side monitor, sir.” Jam said to George.
George gasped. The huge face of the gas giant was covered by Monster war ships.
As Risa rushed to her monitor to see for herself, Dick leapt out of his chair and said authoritatively, “Don’t panic men, and Risa, this is what we expected.”
Dick’s brave language inspired Mr. Brash to take charge. George was proud to be commander of the Coterie.This was the end point of a path that he had been on since he had stopped partying 15 years ago. Every step that he had taken had been focused on this one goal, and with each step his options had narrowed until now there were no more decisions to be made. He pushed the button on the intercom, “Coterie. This is your Captain. Divide the sky in front of you into 5 quadrants as discussed in our briefing. Each of you will focus on one quadrant.
The Shill will fire at will.” He turned off the communicator, trying to remember if he had missed anything and feared that he had, but he could not remember what.
While George fumbled with his communicator, Risa rocked nervously on her heels impatiently waiting to speak. At the first appropriate moment she let what she had to say burst out of her. “Commander Brash, I know it’s a bit late to ask, but are you certain everyone is clear about what the five quadrants are?”
At this point the ship’s computer did something quite unexpected for a servant-machine: it interrupted George just as he began to evade Risa’s question. It said, “Good question, Risa. George’s plan <i>is</i> ambiguous from the perspective of four dimensional reality. There are many calibration issues related to defining what the fifth quadrant is, and how it changes while we move. These issues will be particularly difficult to solve as we accelerate toward light-speed …”
George interrupted the upstart computer with a cold, patrician voice, “I have no time for your trigonometry, machine. Be quiet.”
The insolence of the ship’s computer had distracted the crew from the fact that the Shill was actively engaged in battle. George looked at the battle simulation that was being projected onto the screen in front of him. The view of Monster vehicles exploding was like the biggest imaginable Independence Day celebration. The combination of the Coterie‘s pinpoint targeting and the abundance of targets, led to kill after kill after kill after kill after kill. 700,000 kills later it looked like the Monsters had had enough. Their vehicles pulled back and regrouped. While they did so, George seized the moment: he gave the order for the Coterie to cease firing and prepare to slingshot.
As George’s team hurtled forward, the Monster ships began to rise up from the surface of the gas giant in a path that was exactly perpendicular to theirs.
“What are they doing?” George tried to speak decisively, but there was a waver in his voice.
“I know,” said Jam, “it’s a three-dimensional crossing of the T”.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a battle strategy used by navies that float on water.”
“Why should that work here?”
“It allows them to concentrate their fire while making themselves smaller targets.”
The thin line of enemy battleships moved upward through the space directly in front of them, all the while concentrating its fire on the Urgent Fury, which was the Coterie‘s vanguard ship. When he saw that the Fury’s shields were failing George gave the order to fire back.
The Fury exploded.
“Computer. What just happened?” George was aghast.
“A missile from the Contra just destroyed the Urgent Fury“, the computer said laconically, “The damage happened in the fifth quadrant. You will recall that we have some calibration issues there.”
“Stupid computer, why can’t you make my plan work?” George would brook no mathematical talk-back from this machine.
The computer’s voice remained placid. “The lack of clarity over what the fifth quadrant is makes it difficult to create firing tables.”
“What difficulties?”
Risa thought she heard the computer sigh as it replied. “Overlap, for example. If you are going to have five quadrants in one space, there may be overlap amongst the quadrants. Determining how this is so while giving each quadrant a unique identity is difficult.”
The crew let George respond. He did so, with vigor. “Whole numbers!” George exclaimed as he slapped his head with the palm of his right hand.
“What do you mean?” the computer asked.
Only use integers in your calculations. That’ll get rid of the overlap.”
When the computer sought clarification George shouted it down,and then sentenced it to silence. He had more important things to focus on than quibbling machines . After all, they were down one ship; their plans had to be updated.
“Which quadrant was the Urgent Fury covering?” George asked Risa. The waver in his voice was now gone.
“The third.”
“Good. Divide responsibility for the third quadrant among the remaining pilots.”
“Shouldn’t we simply divide the battle field into four quadrants?” an artillery sub-system hopefully asked.
The sub-system’s impudence made George so livid he turned down the volume on the Shill‘s entire human-machine interface. “We’re finishing this battle on mute.”
Before George had finished speaking these words, the Coterie‘s new vanguard cruiser, the Contra, exploded into a ball of flame, this time from enemy fire. Before the Contra had finished vaporizing the Monsters focused their fire power on the Rolling Thunder. It glowed red then disappeared into a puff of metallic vapor.
“Did we do that?”
“No” Jam stated in a flat voice. “When the Monsters concentrate their fire they are able to overwhelm our shields.”
George was dumbfounded. In the same way that he knew that God created Heaven and Earth, he also knew that the Monsters could never destroy a Human ship. The heat of battle gave him no time to reflect on this development however. He received an urgent communication from the pilot of the Free Enterprise.
“Captain Brash. I’m speaking for the ships Ajax and Dessert Storm. What is happening in this battle is not covered by our contract. We’re turning back.” The pilot was speaking in the past – the ships had already departed from the battlefield.
The Coterie was down to one ship.
The gravity of the gas giant hurtled into Shill into the inner solar system picaseconds before the Monster guns concentrated their fire.
Within minutes they were in orbit around Kuln Prime. They were traveling so quickly that it was only on their third traverse that they noticed that thousands of Kulnoi warships were rising from the surface of the prison moon.
Although they were dramatically outnumbered, George did not hesitate, “Computer. Prepare to set up a base on Kuln’s Moon. Make sure the site is defensible.”
George’s decisive commands led to nothing. It took Risa but a moment to realize that the Shill‘s human-machine interface was still muted.
The moment the computer got it’s voice back it said, “Commander Brash, there isn’t a good place to set up our base. The entire moon is militarized. If we get within 500,000 kilometres of it we will be blasted to Andromeda.”
George was not an evidenced-based leader, so the ship’s warning did not cause his resolve to waver one iota. He inhaled deeply and then spoke, “Fine. We will begin to orbit the moon and keep firing until every Monster ship has been destroyed.”
Risa looked at her control panel and reported to George that his plan was impossible. “Our missile factory is malfunctioning.”
“I assume that we still have enough munitions in reserve to obliterate the Monsters.” George was all over this problem.
“We have slightly more than one million missiles left.” Risa replied. “The enemy have just over ten million ships that are within immediate firing range. There are at least 10 million more ships stationed on the moon.
“Let’s get started. We’re going to have to make every shot count. Ten times over.”
“Twenty times over” Mr. Chump corrected. He had a grim look on his face.
Although the battle was heated and the Kulnoi casualties mounted, they all – with the exception of George, who was a bit slow in these matters – realized that defeat would only be a matter of time. Fortunately, no one had a moment to dwell on how they would soon be eaten alive by green bug-eyed Monsters.
The Shill ran out of missiles one day and over two million Kulnoi casualties later. The Monsters then bombarded it until its shields imploded. Once they had destroyed the Human ship’s defenses, the Monsters adulterated the Shill‘s air supply using a drone, rendering the crew unconscious.
When the Humans awoke they were astonished by the size of their cage. That mystery was solved when their captors arrived. The Kulnoi were huge compared with Humans, and walked very lightly in the low gravity environment of Kuln’s Moon. They wore leather tunics made from the hides of their victims. The brown leather was offset nicely by their pond green skin. Their eyes were comprised of spheres of hexagonal lenses. Clusters of them were perched on agitated stalks. Most of the Monsters had only five or six eye-stalks, one had a dozen. Below their eyes were two vicious looking sets of mandibles that they used to tear up food before inserting it into a circular mouth full of razor sharp teeth.
A Kulnoi officer began to bellow at the crew of the Coterie . It seemed to think that the louder it spoke, the easier it was to understand. The Human crew looked dumbly on. They were all ignorant of the Kulnoi language. When the bellowing officer paused to take a breath, Cruel stepped forward, placed his personal communicator on a table, activated it then stepped away. The communicator projected a holographic image onto the space in front of the officer. The image said something in the Kulnoi language. The officer walked over to the device and examined it. It grabbed Cruel’s device, then Cruel himself, and brusquely left the room, a train of lower ranking soldiers followed. The door to their prison closed with a clang.
Several hours later their captors returned with Cruel’s device, but without Mr. Rave himself. The Monster officer handed the communicator to George.
It played a hologram of the Monster saying, in George’s own dialect, “Mr. George Brash, capturing your ship was a great victory for the Kulnoi. You are my prize. Although your government has offered to pay me a large ransom for your safe return, you are much more valuable to me as food.”
After delivering this message the guards then took Dundald and Dick away. George, Jam and Risa had only moments to wonder who would be next; the guards quickly returned for them. They were taken to a food-sorting factory. Probably the very one in which George’s father had been packaged. The Humans were divided into pens, each of which moved very slowly on a conveyor belt toward the Packers and Sorters. Healthy Humans were thrown into static bags by the Packers to be eaten later. The unhealthy and the dead were identified by Sorters and then ground up into pet food.
Commander George Brash looked bleakly up at his enormous, threatening captors. He was four pens away from the Packer, three from the Sorter. He wondered which of the two Kulnoi would seal his fate. He spoke, but did not directly address Risa and Jam, who shared his pen. “I don’t want to be a Monster’s appetizer.” Risa, who had had enough of George replied sharply, “Captain, whether we’re kept alive in a static bag, or ground up for pets to eat – either way we’re food.”
“What I mean is, I don’t want to be eaten alive” George retorted. He sprayed himself and then handed Risa his sprayer. “Apply this ointment to your skin. The Monsters will think that you’ve spoilt and will kill you quickly.” They solemnly sprayed each other and prepared to die like heroes. The spray’s foul smell caused Risa to vomit convulsively. §
The Sorter rudely grabbed a young Human, chewed off his head and then tossed the corpse into a masher where it would be ground into pet food.
“Hey, don’t eat the merchandise” the Packer chastised.
“It was already dead”, the Sorter replied.
“That’s disgusting, eating something that is dead.”
“Not all of us have good jobs, like yours, Mr. Packer. If you paid me more, maybe I’d be able to afford some of this living merchandise.”
The Monsters continued working sullenly. After a while the Sorter spoke again, “Do you think they suffer?”
“Of course they do.” The Packer guffawed at the irrelevance of the question. “My friend you are over-complicating your simple job.” As he spoke the Packer picked up George and poked him harshly in the stomach. The human recoiled in pain. The Monster plunged George head first into a mild solvent in order to remove his terrible smell, and then threw him into a static bag. George struggled futilely until the instant the bag was sealed and time stopped. The Packer turned to the Sorter and said, “It’s actually very simple: if it moves, it’s alive. If it’s alive, its food.”
Fin