They couldn't stay long in any one village; they didn't have the time to
sit and relax any more than was necessary. Once they had reached the
northern marches of the native empire, it was to the commander's
advantage to keep his men moving. He didn't know for sure how good or
how rapid communications were among the various native provinces, but he
had to assume that they were top notch, allowing for the limitations of
a barbaric society.
The worst trouble they ran into on their way was not caused by the
native warriors, but by disease.
The route to the south was spotted by great strips of sandy barrenness,
torn by winds that swept the grains of sand into the troopers' eyes and
crept into the chinks of their armor. Underfoot, the sand made a
treacherous pathway; carriers and men alike found it heavy going.
The heat from the sun was intense; the brilliant beams from the primary
seemed to penetrate through the men's armor and through the insulation
underneath, and made the marching even harder.
Even so, in spite of the discomfort, the men were making good time until
the disease struck. And that stopped them in their tracks.
What the disease was or how it was spread is unknown and unknowable at
this late date. Virus or bacterium, amoeba or fungus--whatever it was,
it struck.
Symptoms: Lassitude, weariness, weakness, and pain.
Signs: Great, ulcerous, wartlike, blood-filled blisters that grew
rapidly over the body.
A man might go to sleep at night feeling reasonably tired, but not ill,
and wake up in the morning to find himself unable to rise, his muscles
too weak to lift him from his bed.
If the blisters broke, or were lanced, it was almost impossible to stop
the bleeding, and many died, not from the toxic effect of the disease
itself, but from simple loss of blood.
But, like many epidemics, the thing had a fairly short life span. After
two weeks, it had burned itself out. Most of those who got it recovered,
and a few were evidently immune.
Eighteen men remained behind in shallow graves.
The rest went on.
X
No man is perfect. Even with four decades of training behind him,
Commander Frank couldn't call the turn every time. After the first few
villages, there were no further battles. The natives, having seen what
the invaders could do, simply showed up missing when the commander and
his men arrived. The villages were empty by the time the column reached
the outskirts.
Frater Vincent, the agent of the Universal Assembly, complained in no
uncertain terms about this state of affairs.
"As you know, commander," he said frowningly one morning, "it's no use
trying to indoctrinate a people we can't contact. And you can't subject
a people by force of arms alone; the power of the Truth--"
"I know, Frater," the commander interposed quickly. "But we can't deal
with these savages in the hinterlands. When we get a little farther into
this barbarian empire, we can take the necessary steps to--"
"The Truth," Frater Vincent interrupted somewhat testily, "is for all
men. It works, regardless of the state of civilization of the society."
The commander looked out of the unglazed window of the native hut in
which he had established his temporary headquarters, in one of the many
villages he had taken--or, rather, walked into without a fight because
it was empty. "But you'll admit, Frater, that it takes longer with
savages."
"True," said Frater Vincent.
"We simply haven't the time. We've got to keep on the move. And,
besides, we haven't even been able to contact any of the natives for
quite a while; they get out of our way. And we have taken a few
prisoners--" His voice was apologetic, but there was a trace of
irritation in it. He didn't want to offend Frater Vincent, of course,
but dammit, the Assemblyman didn't understand military tactics at all.
Or, he corrected himself hastily, at least only slightly.
"Yes," admitted Frater Vincent, "and I've had considerable success with
the prisoners. But, remember--we're not here just to indoctrinate a few
occasional prisoners, but to change the entire moral and philosophical
viewpoint of an entire race."
"I realize that, Frater," the commander admitted. He turned from the
window and faced the Assemblyman. "We're getting close to the Great Bay
now. That's where our ship landed on the second probing expedition. I
expect we'll be more welcome there than we have been, out here in the
countryside. We'll take it easy, and I think you'll have a chance to
work with the natives on a mass basis."
The Frater smiled. "Excellent, commander. I ... uh ... want you to
understand that I'm not trying to tell you your business; you run this
campaign as you see fit. But don't lose sight of the ultimate goal of
life."
"I won't. How could I? It's just that my methods are not, perhaps, as
refined as yours."
Frater Vincent nodded, still smiling. "True. You are a great deal more
direct. And--in your own way--just as effective. After all, the Assembly
could not function without the military, but there were armies long
before the Universal Assembly came into being."