The War of Civlar
CHAPTER 13 - UPRISING IN THE REALM
In the present day, in the Realm, three years after the daring attack on the supply train...
“I'm back from the shops,” Joanna announces as she walks through the living area to find George and Andrew sitting to a meal. Andrew stands up to kiss Joanna as she glides past. It had been like this for some time now – almost normal.
Thanks to some further chemical engineering on George's behalf, the two of them had both managed to change their appearance considerably.
First and foremost was their new hair color, a dark brunette to match that of George. Andrew now donned his own mighty beard fashioned in the familiar miner's style. Small artificial freckles adorned Joanna's face. Her hair was made curly through another clever improvisation involving an iron. They were still quite an unconventional household by Precinct 7 standards, being three adult siblings living in the same house, but certainly not illegal. As long as they avoided trouble and stayed away from their old neighborhood they could now pass normally through society.
This arrangement had lasted for two and a half years. Joanna was described to less trusted friends as the “homemaker” of the family, and Andrew's apparent lack of employment was hidden on the pretext that he had sustained an injury which required him to hobble artificially when dealing with the public.
George had been careful to introduce the two gradually back into the real world – first announcing to his friends (that were outside of his own dissident subset, obviously) – that his supposed relatives were going to be arriving weeks before their actual "appearance".
They still had three main problems.
Firstly was a lack of any supporting documentation, but this should not be an issue as long as they kept out of the attention of the authorities. Secondly was suppressing their natural affectionate instincts in public – as they were not in actuality and far from siblings. Joanna had the additional issue of having to bat away prospective suitors amongst George’s male friends.
Regardless, they were both extremely pleased that their lives were no longer that of virtual captivity.
Today, Joanna was preparing the fish she had acquired for her consumption, since she was not fond of the lamb the men had prepared earlier. While she grated against the scales her hand suddenly slipped: the house was now vibrating against the deathly sound of the air-raid sirens.
Andrew and George stopped eating and looked at each other with confusion.
“This must be a test,” snorts Andrew starting again to resume his meal.
“You're right – the Civlarians are not interested in Precinct 7!” George chuckles.
“Wait!” Joanna cries - She could hear from the distance the faint sound of cannon fire and then an explosion which was most likely the demise of a fighter or bomber in midair.
With a clash of hastily discarded cutlery the three of them race to the front door.
Civlar was indeed attacking – the swarm of aircraft in the distance now clearly visible as though there were birds fighting with each other. Fairly obvious too as there could never be any birds outside of the Dome.
The three of them are panting with excitement, their minds almost transmitting to each other the unspoken speculations that frantically processed within. If Civlar was attacking here then perhaps they had already won the war? If so, would their new occupiers have a greater regard for them than their current rulers? If not – then why would they select such a backwater target for what seemed quite obviously to be a fairly major attack.
The flurry of aircraft drifted closer.
“How many are there?” Joanna gasped.
“I'd say there are 30 small ones – they could be fighters or bombers and five big ones.” George exclaims with squinted eyes. Nobody around there has ever seen a “big one”. Obviously something major was happening.
The people on the street were busy scampering into their houses, generally small brick structures that provided little protection from the powerful charges of the laser bombers. Indeed, it would surely be a quicker death the take a hit from a charge directly and be instantly incinerated than to be crushed by the burning rubble of such an abode. The group however had absolutely no intention of sitting this one out in the basement. They wanted to find out what this was about.
“We need to get the gang!” George said. “You two wait here while I bring them in – if I can find them.”
Although the Realm had a complete telecommunications system it was restricted only to calling the authorities. George ambitiously started his engine and set about trying to assemble his group.
He did the rounds and picks up David and Tom after driving hastily through the deserted streets.
He passes army vehicles but is not interrupted since it would seem normal to drive quickly under the pretext of getting back to one's own premises during an air raid. The entire trip takes only 15 minutes, especially assisted by the fact that both Tom and David are to be found directly on their respective front lawns gawking at the very same spectacle.
At the time he pulled into his driveway the air war was at their doorstep – the single turret built to protect Precinct 7 picking off Civlarian fighters as they engaged in frantic battle against the Realm's own. The larger ships could now be made out more clearly – they were some kind of mobile rearming station.
Back in the basement the five of them, each with a machine gun strapped around their waist, frantically contemplate what actions they needed to take. They realize that they didn't really know what was happening and that the best thing they could do for the time being was to try and find out.
After checking to see that the street was deserted from on looking neighbors they quickly pile into George’s car, criss-crossing their guns across their laps to keep them under the view of other vehicles. They headed for where it seemed that most of the bombers appeared to be directed for – a vague inducement to drive towards the North.
Five minutes into the journey the group felt the car begin to tremble underneath them. George erupts with a loud growl of terror and frustration. It is certainly not an auspicious time for his trusted vehicle to have some kind of mechanical failure. They learn quickly that it was no failure of the machine as the true source of the shaking reveals itself – three massive turrets to the West starting to slowly emerge from the mountain range.
Underground turrets?
Such a thing had never been heard of. The construction must have occurred in secret through the Dome's subterranean layer. With a thud they finished their extension and then proceeded to thrust burst after burst of heavy laser rounds at an oncoming Civlarian re-supply platform in the distance.
The resulting explosion filled the sky with fiery debris that floated like a morbid ticker tape parade promoting the Aesuthites now fairly obvious tactical advantage. The turrets were going for the supply vessels first – Civlar would need to finish the job quickly and retreat or be decimated.
The battle raged. In within a few kilometers ahead of them beams of laser burst were seen descending from the dome as though they were lightening on the outside. The turrets momentarily swivel towards them and send forth another barrage, terminating the beams at their origin. They know now where they need to head to.
As they approached their target George swerves the car off the road at full speed careening it across a bumpy section of shrubs. As the smoking vehicle grinds to a halt, bogged down in thick mud, the shaken passengers disembark and start running towards an overhanging ridge to for a better view.
Towards them stands the partially destroyed structure of a small military outpost.
“What is it?” Joanna cries in between gasps for air.
The small building showed no signs of it apparent significance. Lightly guarded by two guard towers it could have been a simple training base or supply depot. Yet, the ferocity and apparently suicidal nature of the bombers attack seemed to indicate otherwise.
“We've got to destroy it!” George instructs.
“We should wait.
Perhaps Civlar can do the job for us,” David interjects.
“No way. They are being decimated!” George reminds the group as he clutches the two spherical balls close to his chest. Previously, he had taken the initiative to weld them together with the cut-off crowbar placed between them for convenience. They knew that such a device would be suitable for this purpose – but how would they get in there? Although it was indeed lightly defended, the five machine guns they had at their disposal are certainly no match for the guard towers.
They wait there for several more minutes as the Civlarian air force is being systematically destroyed above them. During that time they notice several military trucks speeding across the nearby road and piling up at the gate of the facility.
“You two come with me, we're going to wait near that piece of bush land!” George commands, “David and Tom – you wait back here and see what you can do.”
The group scampers down the embankment and run once again toward the road where they take cover behind a large tree. The trucks were still flowing down the road, far too close for comfort but obviously too preoccupied with the situation to notice the three hidden dissidents crouching nearby.
Soon, the wail of an ambulance could be heard in the distance. This was the chance they were looking for. “We need to cut down that tree!” George snaps, handing over a grenade to Andrew.
Without hesitation he runs towards the stump and places it in a small ridge in the trunk. With a boom and a creak the tree is felled, smashing against the road with a spray of leaves and twigs.
As expected, the ambulance screeches to a halt and the three of them make their move - spraying the driver and passenger with close range machine gun fire. Inside the cabin, Joanna finishes the job by sending a spray of bullets into two surprised ambulance officers and setting off a shower of sparks from the sensitive machinery within.
Of the four uniforms only three were of a satisfactory condition to engage their ruse – slight blood speckling could be explained by previous jobs. The forth however was completely drenched in blood and intestines. The fallen tree was pushed aside where it provided some cover for the four unfortunate corpses, three of which were now naked. As they drive off slowly, the group waiting at the ridge see them discard their clothes out of the window and know that the infiltration is proceeding.
Within moments they arrive at the checkpoint and queue up with the other vehicles. For some tense seconds they wait silently as a guard strides hastily towards them. He makes a wild gesture to go through as the secondary boom gates open. From these actions George infers that there must be a fairly significant emergency inside.
As they pull up to the curb outside the damaged building they are immediately approached by what appears to be a high ranking General, a Priest and several soldiers. They disembark the vehicle swiftly, taking with them a random assortment of medical equipment from the ambulance. Andrew hastily tucks in his shirt behind the doorframe before he jumps out. They line up to greet the entourage.
“You are a medic?” says the General to the miner while staring suspiciously. George remains unphased and stands in stunned and defiant silence. “He looks like a serf!” the General eventually continues, “Look at his hardened hands and wrinkled face!”
Although disconcerting as the situation now appeared everybody knew that they needed to be inside the building in order for their plan to work. In a moment of panicked inspiration, George quickly reacts to the general’s insinuation.
“I heard that there were some important people who need medical attention,” he snaps while constructing his best official voice, “If you want to keep your testicles I suggest you let us through!”
Enraged, the General pulls out his side arm and aims it at George's head – an action to which he does not flinch.
The Priest extends his hand and places it above the general's wrist -“General, I am trained in reproductive morality... What this man said, in some vulgar way, was not incoherent. I certainly don't know any serfs that know of the word 'testicles'!” he states slowly, all the while scanning the groups faces and eyes for any signs of deviancy.
The General begrudgingly lowers his weapon but it is clear that he is not fully satisfied with their credentials.
“Who do we need to look at first?” George asks.
“Come with me, medic. There has been an incident in the computer labs,” the priest reports, moving his hand in a gesture towards the front entrance.
The group walks swiftly through corridors filled with debris, wounded personnel, and buzzing with mid-level military officials. The General follows behind, one hand on his gun and watching them intently. His stride is interrupted by an approaching Lieutenant waving some papers in excitement.
“Sir!” the Lieutenant shouts, accosting the General from his vigil.
As they leave him behind the dissidents catch the last a few words of the Lieutenant's report: "victory has been achieved".
It is then that they the notice through the tension of the preceding events that the air has indeed gone quiet.
As they burst through into the main computer room they see a circle of people crowded around an area on the ground.
“Move aside!” yells the Priest.
As the men and women quickly dissipate the mangled body of a high ranking General appears on the floor.
“His injuries are severe,” the priest advises, “A server has fallen on him.”
“Sir”, Joanna interjects quickly, “I think it would be efficient if we left our Primary Officer to help the General while we attend to the other injured soldiers that we saw on the way.”
“Yes, very good.” the priest replies. They walk hastily towards the previous corridors and in the milieu they overhear a heated exchange:
“Deploy the systems now!”
“Only General Alteris has the deployment codes.”
“Call the head command and retrieve the auxiliary codes.”
“Our communications systems are dead....”
Meanwhile, George hovers over the mangled body of General Alteris. Although he is alive it is quite true that his injuries are fatal – the impact to the head had left a pool of thick black blood around him and he sat there heaving with a fixed gaze towards the ceiling.
“He's dead – isn't he?” the Priest asks somberly.
“No Sir he is not. But I will need to talk privately with you for a moment.” George replies.
“What?” the Priest snaps, disgusted that the medic is now wasting time at such an occasion.
George leans over and whispers into his ear - “I have some extremely classified medical equipment in this bag. Absolutely new technology. If you could just remove the infantry from this room...”
The Priest signals his consent and shouts stern orders for everybody to leave.
George and the Priest are now bent over General Alteris. He pulls out two shiny metallic balls, welded together with half a crowbar. Upon seeing this, the countenance on the face of the General rapidly changes as he struggles to emit words - “Bo....Bo...”
“Yes General, these balls will stop the bleeding,” George hastily blurts as he presses down on the switch. The balls begin to emit a green light.
He turns to the priest and announces proudly - “Well priest, this Serf may now know about Testicles, but he sure has some Big Balls!”
The Priest turns pale as the switch is released emitting a red beam of light and an understated beep. That should be the end of this facility.
With a screech of tyres and a roar of the engine, Andrew and Joanna erupt towards the lowered boom gates. As the guards draw their weapons they are thrown back by a thunderous explosion.
The ambulance twists and careens through the boom gate as debris whistle past them. They are surprised now by a secondary explosion but soon realize that David and Tom has now made their way to the entrance, after utilizing their final grenade to destroy a truck full of infantry waiting at the back of the main queue
Andrew slows do
wn to assist their friends but again hits the accelerator as he sees them being mowed down by the oncoming bullets from the guard tower. At top speed the pair careen and bounce through the winding road – sirens still blaring.
Eventually they reach a straight section of road. Joanna now turns to Andrew and makes a startling confession: “I'm pregnant.”
Andrew heads for the precinct border.