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Proxy War Page 2
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Page 2
About half the people had left the train by now, and although the concrete platform was starting to get crowded, it was mostly quiet. Most people looked around in fear and few talked quietly amongst themselves. The heavy atmosphere was swallowing up the sound like London fog. Everyone was milling about, but the platform full of people had a muted quality.
Like Peter, most people were looking about the train and trying to comprehend the landscape. When seeing something entirely new for the first time, the brain refuses to comprehend it at first. Although the pile of aquamarine rocks at the base of the train platform were distinctly septigonal, their minds refused to admit that there was anything but a blue blob there. At least until they stared at the rocks for a few moments, and the truth revealed itself.
The rest of the landscape was mostly different shades of rock and dirt. The train station stood in a valley between two large mountains, with stripes of color blending into each other. The train station was built on the blue rock, but that must have been quarried and brought here since the dirt directly below it was a brick red. Farther from the train the ground faded into a light blue, with a dusty purple boundary between them. The light blue stopped abruptly at the foothills of the mountain, rock slides of dusty vermilion shale acting as the boundary. Above the shale, there were splotches of blue that could be vegetation, but it was too far away to see.
After a few moments, shapes emerged from the landscape moving towards the train, three on each side. Just as the shapes resolved themselves into humanoids, a voice rang out across the landscape. The voice repeated a message a few times but carried no meaning until the humanoids drew closer.
“Bǎ suǒyǒu xínglǐ fàng zài huǒchē shàng, ránhòu dào huǒchē qiánmiàn. Qǐng zhuāng shàng huǒchē qiánmiàn tígōng de jiāotōng gōngjù.”
“Lassen Sie Ihr ganzes Gepäck im Zug und kommen Sie vor den Zug. Bitte laden Sie den bereitgestellten Transport vor dem Zug”
“Leave all your luggage on the train and come to the front of the train. Please load onto the provided transportation at the front of the train.”
There was a pause, and then the recording repeated itself.
At this point, the humanoids were close enough to the train to see that they were indeed humans, Chinese soldiers in uniform. They began waiving the crowd towards the vehicles and saying, “Xiàng qián zǒu,” over and over again.
Peter was looking bewildered as the soldiers kept waiving the crowd forward, stuck as the people slowly moved around him towards the vehicles. The Korean woman from his section of the train touched his arm lightly.
“They are saying we must move this way, come,” she said. She waved him on and joined the crowds. The noise level seemed to pick up, the crowds growing louder as they started moving.
Without another word, Peter turned and followed her. If he was going to die on this alien world, did it matter where he ended up?
As they got to the vehicles, Peter saw that the vehicles were not trucks, but alien transports. They hovered gently over the landscape, keening slightly with a quiet scream just on the edge of his hearing. There was a silver covered cab, pentagonal with windows on all sides. It looked like it was made of metal scales, small five-sided scales tightly overlapping and sharp. Behind the cab was a trailer, a floating flatbed that had rows of basic chairs secured to the frame. The flatbed looked like it was constructed of the same small scales, but the chairs were typical metal chairs from Earth. As he got there, there was a line of people being loaded up on to the back of the flatbeds.
There were six vehicles, five with long flatbeds and one shorter and covered. As they waited, they saw the occasional child being led alone to the smaller covered vehicle. Peter frowned, separating families was never a good sign.
As they got to the front of the line a smaller Chinese female soldier was directing traffic, telling groups of people to go to one of the five flatbeds. Occasionally there was a young child and she spoke to the parents for a moment and they willingly sent their children to the smaller covered vehicle. When the Korean woman from his section got to the front of the line, she tightened her grip on her son’s hand. The female soldier held up her hand and leaned in to talk to the Korean mother. She whispered something into her ear, evidently something shocking because she tensed up and seemed about to cry. She then turned to her son and spoke to him, her voice cracking.
The young boy looked hurt and sad, but with a word from the Chinese soldier, he walked by himself to the covered vehicle.
Peter found himself quickly loaded onto the final flatbed, on a seat next to the Korean woman. He looked around himself and saw the flatbed slowly being filled up. He guessed that the bed could fit about a hundred and fifty people. Most had a dazed look on their faces, only a few were angry.
Peter turned to his neighbor and asked her, “Why did you let your son be taken like that?” After he said it, he realized how harsh and accusatory it sounded. Immediately he wished he could take his words back. It wasn't the first time he let his words get ahead of his thoughts and regretted it.
The Korean woman turned to stare him in the eyes for a long moment before she said, “She told me the truth. Most of us will not survive the day, but the children will be sent back to Earth,” she turned back away as she said, “It was his only chance.”
“I am so very sorry. I can’t even, I am so sorry,” Peter said. She didn't look back and stared resolutely into the distance.
It hadn't been more than a few minutes since he found out he was probably going to die soon, but now he felt much worse because of this awkward situation. He looked to his left to see who was sitting next to him on his other side. Anything to avoid this terrible feeling.
His neighbor was a young man, about his age, grungy clothes, and heavy hiking boots. Peter guessed the man had been planning on backpacking across Europe before his plans were changed for him. He was taller than Peter and had long flowing blonde hair and pale white skin. He could pass as a native for several Scandinavian countries, so perhaps he was returning home from hiking across the US. The hiker was currently staring intently behind him. In fact, most of the people sitting near Peter were staring behind him, so Peter turned back as well.
They were staring at a figure far away from them near the end of the train. It was the first alien any of them had seen in person. The pictures hadn’t done them justice. The Vindilar really did look a lot like the stereotypical fantasy troll. Or perhaps an orc from Lord of the Rings. Peter knew that everyone called them trolls because of their ugly visage, quick regeneration, and aversion to fire, just like the trolls in fiction. They were much taller than he had guessed from seeing them online. The alien had a head, two legs and two arms, like most alien life that humans knew about. About nine feet tall with green, pebbly skin and disproportionately large hands. The alien was ape-like, thickly built with arms longer than its legs. As it walked forward, Peter could see powerful legs ending in hoof-like feet. The troll’s torso and upper legs were covered in a black outfit that sparkled slightly as it caught the light. Perhaps the main thing that didn’t match fiction was its head. Instead of a stupid looking face with an ugly nose, this troll had an intelligent looking visage, a small nose, and almost no neck. The sharp angular head just jutted forward from its torso, its eyes only slightly higher than its shoulders.
This particular troll was slowly walking from the back of the train to the front. The troll was peering into the train and every so often he would stop and raise his and a quick light would flash into the train, followed by a small puff of smoke from inside the train. Every so often the troll would stop, his hand would go up and a light would flash into the train, and he would move forward again. Peter noticed that with every flash that went off, the Chinese guards would flinch.
The Korean woman had turned around by now and was watching the troll with everyone else. She said, “What is it doing?”
Peter’s hiker neighbor said, “I think a few people tried to stay behind on the train and h
ide.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Before long the alien troll reached the group of vehicles and said something to the soldiers. His voice, Peter assumed it was a he, was low and gravelly and grated on the edge of this nerves. Peter didn’t understand the voice, but evidently the soldiers did. They all loaded up into the cab of a vehicle, with the troll in the front vehicle. The vehicle with the children took off first, turning around and traveling back along the train tracks. A portal opened up right before it got there, casting a blue light across the landscape, closing right after the transport went through. The Korean woman next to him sighed in relief and said something to herself in Korean.
At that moment the vehicles sprang into motion. All in a line like a caravan, they sped across the dirt, floating about five feet up. They accelerated like a race car trying to beat a record and kept accelerating. Wind began whipping by them all and pushing them into their seats. Before long they were going so fast that it was getting hard to breathe. The wind was going by so fast that the pressure differential made it difficult to take a breath. Peter just closed his eyes and held on, just trying to survive the trip. He was genuinely scared for his life, and he realized that he was not ready to lose it yet. He tried praying, but could only think of the word please; repeating please to himself over and over again.
After an eternity had passed, but before anyone had passed out, they arrived at their destination. Peter sat forward with his head in his hands, breathing hard. Several long moments later he looked around to see where they had ended up. It looked much like where they had just left, a desolate valley, surrounded by mountains on all sides. There was some blue vegetation at the base of the mountains, but it was too far away to see any details. There were fifty or so mounds of dirt that the flatbeds circled. The valley was dusty red dirt, the mounds of dirt made from dark red chunks of earth piled into a small hill. They looked like anthills for giants, a cone of dirt with an opening in the center. The guards got out and stared at the mounds of dirt, ignoring the passengers.
Everyone sat in their seats looking around, wondering what they were doing here. A few people jumped off the end of the flatbed and stretched. Peter stood and thought about joining them, the open air transport feeling claustrophobic for some reason. Before he could get far though, he heard a sound and glanced around to see what it was.
A screen had appeared in the air above each of the transports, angled so those sitting could see what was displayed. It was projected into the air from the cab, slightly transparent but solid enough that he could easily see what was displayed there. It was the symbol of the Chinese army, a red star with a Chinese character in the middle. There was also soft music playing. Peter sat back down.
The star soon faded and a cartoon was displayed, a view of the planet they were on, zooming in to a representation of where they were at now. Five transports surrounding a set of mounds in the middle. A voice was narrating the cartoon, but it was in Chinese, so Peter ignored it. It zoomed in further to a single transport and a row of people sitting on chairs in the back, all of them wearing Chinese uniforms. Despite the serious subject matter, the cartoon style was cutesy, big heads and nubs for hands. All of the cartoon people looked at the screen and said something altogether. As it panned across them all, the narration continued
“What are they saying?” Peter said and turned to his neighbor to his left. The man shrugged and looked back to the screen. “Are we supposed to understand this?” Peter continued. The program had obviously been developed during the period when only Chinese people were in contact with the trolls.
“Quiet, let me listen and I will tell you later,” his Korean neighbor said to him.
So Peter watched in silence as the rest of the movie played. It showed the cute little people reach under their seats and grab something. It looked like a collection of medieval weaponry, an ax, a flail, a spear, and a comically large sword. No shields though, just an assortment of weapons. The people then hopped off the transport, singing a song, and spread themselves out between the mounds. Some stood by themselves, some in groups of six, and a few large groups spread out. A red X appeared over the people standing by themselves, a green circle around the groups of six, and a large red X over the larger groups.
Chinese narration continued to drone on, but only served to confuse Peter more.
The viewpoint zoomed into a view of a specific mound and tilted to a cross-section of what was in it. The cute soldiers pointed their weapons at the mound and the viewpoint followed the tunnel down. It showed a group of huge glowing eggs at the bottom of the tunnel. After more narration, one of the eggs started cracking. A moment later a monster crawled out.
It was a black lizard-like creature with a large triangle shaped head. It had six legs ending in claws and a long tail. Red spikes ran down the length of its spine. Roaring showed a wide mouth full of teeth.
The monster launched itself at the little people. It was about twice as long as they were high. Right before it got to them, time slowed and symbols appeared over its body. The spikes along its spine and the claws got a red warning symbol, skull and crossbones. Little swords appeared to stab at the hide around the spines and a little ting sounded out as each one hit but did not penetrate. The show zoomed into the head and highlighted a spot between the eyes and away from the snout. A tiny sword animation poked at that spot and went in with a squish. The focus shifted back a bit to where the head meets the body and highlighted a spot between spines as a tiny ax swiped through the spine. More weapons appeared and hit the creatures joints with a crunch. Then the creature flipped over and showed several weapons hitting the belly. All of them went in, except the ones across the meridian.
Time sped up again and showed the team of six all attacking the creature at the same time. A sword to the head, a mace to the limbs and then an ax beheaded it. Then a glowing orb appeared in the middle of the creature’s body and slowly floated towards the closest little person. The orb floated into the middle of their belly and the person started glowing slightly.
Another creature crawled out of the top of the mound, and the team worked together to kill this one too. Then a second orb appeared and was absorbed by another teammate. The action fast forwarded until all six of them were glowing. They ran up to a troll, this one all soft edges and smiling, and the troll waved them on to the waiting transport. Another group ran up to the troll, this time half of them glowing and the other half not glowing. The troll let the glowing ones on the transport, and the non-glowing ones got a gentle rebuke and they were sent back to the battlefield.
The view panned out to show everyone fighting and the transport slowly filling with glowing people. Then a large group was shown from above, perhaps 60 people in a circle, fighting creatures on all sides. They seemed to be doing well until the ground under them started rumbling. Then multiple holes opened up at the same time and the black creatures boiled out of the ground, attacking everyone in the group. Much more blood than one would expect from a cartoon. The red star showed up on the screen and the narration continued to swelling music.
The video cut off, and it was silent again. Wind whistled by. The silence was broken by someone swearing loudly. It was like the swear gave them permission to talk, everyone was turning to their neighbor and loudly discussing what they had just seen.
“What was that supposed to be?”
“Was war das?”
“Do they really want us to fight those monsters?”
“Ich bin zu jung zu sterben.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“What is going on, what was that?”
“Ich kann nicht kämpfen, ich bin zu alt.”
“I don’t speak Chinese, are we going to get an english video too?”
Peter turned to his neighbor and asked her, “Did you understand that? You speak Chinese, right?” He thought she was Korean, but she had understood the guards before.
She had just reached under her seat and pulled out a weapo
n, a short all metal spear. “Yes,”she said. “Reach under your seat and grab your weapon.”
Peter and everyone around him reached under their seats and drew out a weapon. Peter had a hammer with a spike on its end on the end of a metal pole. Others drew out weapons too, swords, maces, and axes.
It hit him then that this was all real. He was holding a real weapon in his hands and out there in the field there were real monsters that he would have to fight. Why did this have to happen to me? Here I am, on an alien world in a business suit with a hammer in my hands and there are monsters under the ground. What did I do to deserve this? Why is even happening? Why do the aliens need us, why not use a bomb? Or at least give us laser guns instead of a freak'n hammer!
A passenger ahead of him got his wits together faster than Peter because he turned to the Korean woman and said, “So, what do we need to know?” He looked at her seriously and wrapped his hands tightly around his ax. His knuckles were starting to go white.
She took a big breath and said, “Listen good, we don't have lot time. We all group in teams of 6, no more, no less. There are zerglings under the ground and they will be hopping out right after we get off the bus. They can feel big groups so stay away from big groups. We must kill them to take their, uh, glowing balls. That is all that matters, we must all take their glowing balls by killing them. When we have a ball we will glow and can escape. If you do not glow, you can not leave.” She looked around to see if we were paying attention. There was a lot of loud conversations around us, but the ten or so right by her were focused intently on her.
“Can’t we just run?” a man on her other side said.
She shook her head once, “Cowards will be shot.”
“Can we overpower them? There are so many of us and just a few guards,” said a woman in the row ahead. Her accent was clearly German, but everyone understood her.
The Korean woman shrugged and said nothing.