I looked at Brakka and then Gruum. “I’ll do this, but only if Brakka agrees to it.”

  “Why make the condition?” Gruum asked.

  “Because Brakka will have a hold over me, being able to call me a liar and challenge me. If I don’t have his full approval, I want no part of this.”

  “I agree, Traveler,” Brakka said. “I agree because I see it is the only way. We must defeat the First Folk. This is our opportunity because of the lances. I’ve watched you train the Nine. I think I understand the idea of ranged fire. I’ve practiced it in secret. I don’t have the same depth of perception that I’ve heard you speak about because of my single eye, but I’ve striven to understand and have gone through ten lances practicing ranged fire.”

  Hearing this from a Neanderthal—this was radical. Here was a caveman who actually understood what I’d been trying to teach.

  “Do you want to join the Nine?” I asked.

  Brakka shook his head. “My place is by Gruum’s side. However, later, if you need a replacement shooter, I will do it.”

  “I’ll absolutely keep that in mind, and I agree to your plan, Gruum. I’ll do it. I have something else to share with you.”

  “Speak,” Gruum said.

  I told him what had happened with the holographic projection of Philip and his offer and what it could mean.

  “They are clever, these First Folk,” Gruum said grudgingly. “What do you suggest?”

  “That we strike at the earliest opportunity.” I knew it was going to be one hellacious march to the mines. I was going to have to be awake most of the time, guarding with the phasors. “Do the saucers fly at night?” I asked suddenly.

  “I’ve never heard of that,” Gruum said.

  “Me neither,” Brakka said.

  “We’re going to have to set up a perimeter at night—I mean, during the march. Sir,” I said, “they’ll be sending sabertooths at us. And if Philip is in charge, he’s going to realize they need to take me out because my phasors and the special glasses are the anti-saucer unit all wrapped up in one person. Really, what they need is artillery.”

  “Artillery?” asked Gruum.

  “It’s what produces the most casualties in the mass battles we have on Earth. For some reason, I haven’t seen much artillery in the star lanes. Maybe it’s because artillery usually needs heavy supplies, and the way this has been going—never mind, it doesn’t matter. I think as soon as we can, we need to make that march. Will the mammoths be on this side of the mountain range or the other?”

  “Why, the other, of course,” Gruum said.

  “That’s what I thought. Sir, we’re going to have to move soon, especially once we get all the warriors. It would be better if you sent out runners and told those coming in to stay away a bit longer. That might throw some confusion into the First Folk about our plan.”

  “More deception,” Gruum said.

  “It’s the way you win a war,” I said, “and we mean to win it, don’t we?”

  “On all accounts,” Gruum said.

  “The warriors are coming in, and if they don’t come fast enough, we’ll need to strike with what we have. Runners will remain behind to tell those who show up late to hurry to us. The key is to get the Nine and the lances as near to the mines as possible so we can start sending warriors into the tunnels. Then it’s going to turn into a vicious subterranean fight. At least when we’re underground we won’t be in range of the flying saucers or drones. We’ll have to kill all the great cats. They’re critical. I think they put the brains of captured Neanderthals into the great cats.”

  “Blasphemy,” Gruum said, “horrid blasphemy.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “It is horrible and malicious. We have to kill the great cats because they’ll be cunning, trying to strike at us from the sides, wearing us down.”

  “Bayard, you’re more than just an arms instructor in the lances. You’re a genius at massed battle.”

  I laughed. “That’s high praise indeed, sir. I wouldn’t know about genius. I’ve spent some time on Earth in one of its bigger militaries and well, I’ve learned a thing or two. I’ve fought in a few campaigns. This one I mean to win as much as any other.”

  “That is good to hear,” Gruum said. “Now, let us put the plan into effect.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  -26-

  In one regard, events moved in the way Gruum and Brakka had planned.

  I wondered about that. They called Gruum the Old One, the Wise One, but were these ideas really Brakka’s doings?

  The one-eyed Neanderthal was possibly the cleverest of them all. Yet, he could only do this while at Gruum’s side. Did that make Brakka the kingmaker or the minister-at-large?

  It was an interesting situation. I hadn’t expected to find one like it in this prehistoric wonderland.

  They put out the story that I’d worked on Gruum with my Earth ways. They included that I’d prayed to the Deity I acknowledged.

  Two days later, Gruum showed himself to the growing throng. Brakka had counted one hundred and sixty-five warriors assembled near the cave mouth.

  The Neanderthals cheered and cheered upon seeing Gruum standing strong on his own, waving to them. They could see for themselves that he was much healthier than what had been reported.

  Even better, Gruum spoke to the warriors, these freed ex-slaves.

  Maybe I’d be like Spartacus after all. Many looked at me, cheering my healing feat.

  That cheering was manlier than anything I’d heard on Earth because the Neanderthals had deep, loud voices unlike anything you’d find on my world.

  It was exhilarating, astonishing, and a deception on our part. How many other war leaders had run frauds on their men to induce greater morale? It wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out they all had.

  The warriors began to hail and speak to me with great camaraderie.

  Skarl and Zog both clapped me on the back. They were hardy blows, let me tell you. I didn’t complain or ask them not to whack me so hard. I was a Marine. I was a Galactic Marine—oh yeah. We were going to do this.

  I received the three phasors.

  The most interesting thing about that was that they were fully charged. I knew my phasor had been low when I’d arrived. Perhaps the machine in the chamber could recharge phasors.

  If that was true, maybe we should use the phasors to beam into hard rock and find more hidden chambers with ancient weapons. As the phasors drained, we’d recharge them.

  Unfortunately, we didn’t have time for that. As the warriors filled the valley, now was the moment to strike.

  Gruum’s appearance had another positive consequence. He gained energy from being out of the cave. He was an old, withered Neanderthal. But the way others spoke to him, the energy of the mission and what we were attempting—Gruum gained strength from it.

  Later, I told him, “You need to sleep and drink as much water as you can.”

  “Drink water? Why is that so important?”

  “We on Earth have discovered dehydration is one of the worst things of all. You must drink plenty of water, get lots of sleep, and then eat your favorite foods. Don’t stint. You’re using up a lot of energy and will use even more during the march. I hate to say this, but you know you’re old, right?”

  “Yes, yes,” Gruum said, laughing.

  We stood outside by the lake, and his eyes were alight with life. “I’ve waited my entire life—ever since I gained freedom from the horrible mines and what they made us do down there—I’ve waited all my life for this. I delight in this, Bayard. This is a glorious time.”

  I nodded. “You know it’s going to be rough. You know our march to the mines across the tundra is going to be fraught with peril.”

  “I love peril.” Gruum didn’t say it laughingly, but intently. “You have no idea what it’s like being the Old One, the Wise One, and being set to live in a cave as some hidden treasure. This is where I belong. I’ve missed it.” His eyes twinkled. “Perhaps we should go on a hunt next.”

  “Sir, are you serious?”

  “No,” he said. “The hunting part is a joke. You’ve taught me about jokes, and I love them.”

  “That’s a good one, sir. That’s a real good one.”

  The days merged after that, becoming a blur. We carted all the lances from the mountain and divided them into different teams. Their task was to carry them across the mountains. We took out the helmets and gauntlets, Gruum awarding them to those he considered worthy as brave. That had been my idea. Make the Neanderthals vie for clear treasures, make them wish they were brave to receive such awards.

  Napoleon had once said something about the trinkets of medals motivating soldiers. Helmets and gauntlets could serve the same purpose for cavemen.

  At last, word came from Gruum. We would start.

  The Neanderthals began to march with bags of hardtack, bags of jerked meat and water skins on the mountain trail.

  It was so bizarre that there were no women or kids to cheer us. There were a few dire wolves, the ones that I’d spoken about earlier, and their handlers. They kept the wolves near the columns.

  There were teams, and there were captains. Skarl was the captain of the Nine.

  I kept the special glasses with me at all times. I kept at least two phasors and one in reserve. I kept the Colt .45 as another reserve weapon.

  We threaded over the mountains. What an exhilarating feeling. Not so long ago I’d arrived as a straggler, as someone who had survived a traveling experience. Now I was part—was this an army? Could you call it an army? On Garm, this was an army.

  With the special glasses, I spotted watching drones and a few times, flying saucers. There were never more than three in the air at any one time. I wondered if that was telling.

  Could the Accelerationists have gathered most of the technological marvels the Institute possessed and sent them to the Chaunt System? Perhaps they’d denuded other planets such as Garm to do this. From what I’d learned last time, the Institute wasn’t a large organization. The First Folk were few in numbers. Had they stretched themselves too thin? Were many of the First Folk and tech items stranded on the third planet of the Chaunt System with the Draconian dinosaur riders?

  Was there only a skeleton crew on Garm? I was betting yes, since that had become my gut feeling. Otherwise, why not send ten saucers and beam the crap out of us, finishing this at a blow?

  The First Folk actions, or lack of them, meant there were probably just a handful of saucers and Homo habilises on Garm, using what they had to see what they could achieve.

  I didn’t try any long distance shots at the saucers or drones. I couldn’t easily recharge the phasors unless I returned to the cave. Therefore, I was going to hold my fire until I saw the whites of their eyes, so to speak.

  We went over the mountain trails in teams onto the other side. Soon enough, I put my parka back on, although it was nothing like near the South Pole.

  We marched down the mountain trails onto the other side and reached the outpost. It was a subterranean place and there were mammoths, a whole ten of the woolly pachyderms. They were magnificent.

  I soon learned feeding and keeping them healthy was a real chore on the tundra, collecting enough grass and such.

  The subterranean place was shored with ancient timbers and rock-ribbed halls, and had giant places with stalls for the mammoths. It could hold two hundred warriors easy, and there was bins filled with ancient hardtack, some harder than bricks.

  Ten warriors spent the day rooting through the bins, finding the hardtack worth using.

  It was cold outside. Once we left the outpost, we’d be on the tundra. It would get colder and windy again. Would the sabertooths attack at night? Would the flying saucers try to pick us off as we marched?

  I wandered the subterranean halls until I found Brakka guarding a room.

  “Is Gruum awake?” I asked.

  Brakka nodded.

  “Is he feeling well?”

  “The hike on the mountains wearied him,” Brakka said, his concern obvious. “He’s not sleeping because he’s too tired, too wound up.”

  “I’d say let me talk to him tomorrow, but this is critical. I need to see Gruum now.”

  Brakka sighed. “Give me a few moments.”

  It was seconds.

  “Come in,” Brakka said from the door.

  I found Gruum rocking in a rocking chair. He was bundled tightly and wrapped with scarves. He held a hot drink in a clay cup, taking tiny sips now and again.

  “Bayard,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice. “We’re about to embrace the great adventure. Brakka has told me we almost have the full three hundred warriors. The last forty should arrive tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  Gruum studied my face. “Pull up a chair. Tell me the worst.”

  I did just that. “Sir,” I blurted, “we’re going to have to keep close together as we cross the tundra.”

  He nodded, sipping his hot drink.

  “I think you’ll need foraging parties to pluck grass for the mammoths.”

  “I’ve already ordered that. What’s really bothering you, my friend?”

  I shook my head. “I wish I knew how many saucers the First Folk have. I wish I knew the number of sabertooths.”

  “Yes,” Gruum said. “That would help, wouldn’t it?”

  “They’re planning something. They know we’re here.”

  “You’re worried,” he said. “Why is that?”

  “It’s going to get hard now, sir.”

  Gruum sipped his drink.

  “At a time like this…sir, we need to strike fast from here and we need to strike hard.”

  “Tomorrow,” Gruum said. “We start across the tundra tomorrow morning.”

  I got up. I had unformed worries. Why was I bothering Gruum tonight? I left.

  That night, I slept fitfully.

  The next morning—we didn’t leave as soon as Gruum wanted, but sooner than I’d expected. I had experience with military affairs. Friction always made things harder than you’d think. However, Neanderthal mores meant some of my Marine knowledge went out the window for Garm.

  We loaded up the mammoths and started across the tundra. The warriors stayed near the beasts. My nine shooters were in a knot near me.

  I scanned the snowy skies as the wind blew and then howled once again, stirring loose snow. It was cold.

  We were a rugged group, though. I was likely the weakest one. Did that make this a band of supermen? Yeah, I think so.

  We had a mission and hope, most of that stemming from Gruum's improved condition.

  During the afternoon, after climbing a rope ladder, I rode a woolly mammoth. It was exhilarating. The beast had a musky odor and was hairier than I’d realized. It was a break from walking and tons of fun.

  Night came too soon and we bedded down, guards and dire wolves patrolling the perimeter. Nothing bad happened.

  We started up again in the morning, allowing the mammoths to eat dried fodder first.

  I was ragged about midday because I watched the skies endlessly, the swirling snow driving me mad. It was so hard to see far.

  It happened soon after the next stop-break.

  A sky-borne laser drilled one of the mammoths.

  The beast bellowed, lifting its trunk and trumpeting. Then, the poor creature shrieked with a strange noise. The beam had charred much of its outer skin and caused much of its hair to burn. The mammoth staggered, taking several more steps. Then, the giant creature collapsed onto the snow.

  By that time, I had the special glasses on, scanning through the swirling snow. I saw nothing but whiteness.

  This was a perfect hit and run on the enemy’s part.

  Brakka reached me, his single eye staring. “Gruum wants to know what happened.”

  I nodded wearily. “It starts. From here until we get to the mines, they’ll continue to attack in this sneaky, stealthy manner.”

  “How do we counter it?” Brakka asked.

  I shook my head, but I knew. I had to be everywhere at once. I had to stay awake at all times. I had to do that so I could beam a saucer and make the First Folk fear to lose their precious vehicles. I had to make them more cautious.

  The hit and run was a wake-up call. The First Folk had killed one-tenth of our supply service in one blow.

  We didn’t wait around long. We unloaded the dead beast and headed into the sleet and snow. The First Folk knew about our planned attack and had finally done something about it

  Now, the march to battle truly began.

  -27-

  We continued through the wind, sleet and whipped-up snow. I kept vigilance the best I could, searching for lingering saucers. The company now compacted, staying close to each other.

  The great beasts sensed our unease, for the mammoths didn’t continue with the same simplicity as before. They lifted their giant trunks and sniffed the air, searching for whatever made us uneasy. The riders had to encourage and soon prod the great beasts forward. Upon the mammoths were the masses of hardtack, water, jerked beef and bundles of lances.

  We’d brought everything with us, having left nothing behind.

  In fact, if the enemy knew this, now was the moment for them to strike at the old cavern and tunnels. They could destroy and take the machine in Gruum’s chamber and perhaps seal the deeper tunnels and magnetic rail line. Did the First Folk know the rail line existed?