Turns out the dreams and visions I got, when awake, were my previous life moulding with the present – as I expected.

I was a Christian, that much I was able to tell. However, most of my dreams were still hazy and the specific details were just a blurry mess that was still undecipherable.

Christianity. A religion I wasn't exposed to in this life. Most people in Shady Sands subscribed to the teachings of Dharma and the denizens of Boneyard were devoted humanists.

Honestly, I was content not believing in a higher power but the evidence was substantial. I was given visions of my past life that I used to amass wealth and power. Then, I was given abilities after I activated my pipboy. It seemed droll and dull to worship my brain for giving me useful dreams. The less said about worshipping my pipboy, the better. It was just a tool. Yes – a tool that unlocked my ‘mutant’ abilities, but just a tool nonetheless.

But an omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient Being? Who else was able to give him supernatural dreams?

From Joshua's comments this 'god' also seemed omnibenevolent. Would a benevolent higher being subject a child to multiple rounds of nightmares? Perhaps it was a warning, a premonition of a sort. Of the great wars yet to come.

There was no use thinking about it. I had to act in awe and revere this lord, to buy Joshua Graham's loyalty. I saw something great in him. A formidable warrior who slaughtered a dozen cazadors like they were nothing, whilst rescuing the paralysed by injecting them with my antivenom. His innate talent for bringing people around him would make him a good middle manager for my company.

I was being carried by Joshua as he trekked back to the convoy; I tried to carefully balance myself on his back without choking him. “Say, Joshua, are you willing to work for me?”

He screeched to a halt causing bits of dirt to part where his feet stood. “It is clear God's will is manifested upon you, so I’m honoured to work for God’s prophet.”

Not liking where this was going, I rebuked him, "I'm not God's prophet! I'm not anything. Yes, I have visions and dreams but I don't remember them. I'm just a normal human being." At least I hope so. Me being a mutant is just a theory from Dr Bill Calhoun.

“Meekness and humbleness are a vital trait for being God's messengers. After all, one must lay all their interest aside to serve the Lord. Your attitude just reinforced my point.”

That was troublesome. I weighed the risk of having a follower that would abandon or worst betray you if they thought you weren't serving the interest of their god. "I will serve this- the Lord to the best of my abilities. I will err and encounter obstacles along the way. I expect you to advise and correct me if possible." I decided in the end the benefits of Joshua being my employee outweighed the risk.

"We all fall short of God's expectations. That is natural. Ever since Eve ate the apple from the Garden of Eden, all humans were cursed with original sin. I'll do my very best to advise. But as I said earlier, your will is the will of God."

“Vox populi, vox Dei,” I said, recalling a tidbit from my past life.

“What language is that? What did it mean?”

"It's Latin. One of the pre-war languages that the Followers and the upper echelons of the NCR government are trying to revive. It means the voice of the people, is the voice of God.

“You did say that the Kingdom of God resides within us all?” I loved democracy. I loved the idea that power is split equally between people, completely blind to wealth, social class and job role. Everyone had a say in how they were governed. It filled my heart with hope that my belief was validated by an esoteric and supernatural being.

“Well put, Leon Frederik. I don’t know how I could help you, but just say the word and you’ll have my support.”

Fantastic. Excellent. "Firstly, I would like you to drill my miners and prospectors. All must bear arms to secure Grand Canyon and Arizona for the NCR.”

Out of every reaction I expected, I didn’t expect him to hesitate. He literally called me God’s prophet and said that my will was God’s will?! How could you flake this early on?! Internal anguish aside, I listened to his concerns.

“Can you tell me more about the NCR? I think it stands for the New Californian Republic?”

Oh. Was he concerned that the NCR may swallow and annex his backwater of a city? “It is a federal republic consisting of many autonomous states that are able to make local decisions for themselves. We also have a federal Central government that supersedes the local autonomous states once in a while, to maintain unity and cohesion.”

“This Central government, do they have the right to override the state laws?”

This was a hard question to answer. It’s clear Joshua is probing whether or not the NCR is a threat to New Canaan. “They do but there’s laws put in place for the Central government to not abuse it. Another branch of government called the Judicial branch, is made up of judges who make up the Supreme Court. These judges are above politics and make a ruling based on the country's constitution and laws."

Joshua turned his head back and gave me a wry grin, “Can you tell me about your country’s constitution and laws.” The cheek! His question was going to take a long time answer. I lightly punched his shoulders. “Do that again and I’ll drop you.”

I ignored his threat and carried on with my spiel about the NCR. “It is a democratic nation with universal suffrage, which means people can vote representatives into the hall of Congress. Then, these representatives vote among themselves to elect a senator. This is the Legislative branch. They vote on laws of my country."

“Honestly, lad, when I asked you about what the NCR is, I was expecting you to tell me about the wonders of your country. The technological prowess and the industrial might of this NCR. Instead, you’ve ranted about your country’s government. And for the love of me, I’m actually listening.”

I gently kicked his back and chided him, “Then continue to listen.” I was glad he didn't see my reddening cheeks. "Another voting session is held, separate from the Congress, to elect a President. This is the executive branch. The President is the Head of State and Government. The legislative and judicial branches exist to check and balance the power of the President, by keeping them accountable.”

“Interesting. I have a few questions, though. Before I commit to helping the NCR.”

How rude. So, that’s how you’re deflecting the situation, eh? "These questions and your hesitation are a contradiction of your statement that my will is God's will? Are you saying that my will for strengthening the NCR is not God's will?"

"I will advise where I can. You're clearly a patriot and a nationalist. I needed proof that the country you're working for is good for the Wasteland. And to see if it could provide an environment to preach the good word.”

“It does. We have Freedom of Religion which allows all to practice and preach their own faith. As long as it doesn’t cause disorder then you’re all good.”

“Well, lad. You’ve just answered my question. Fine, I’ll help you. I’ll help train your fellow NCR citizens to fight.”

I needed to be on high alert with Joshua. He’s a little too smart for his own good. At least he provides me with intelligent debate.

When I got back, I was summoned by Ed to his coach. “What’s up?” I sat down in disgust as I observed the dishevelled pigsty that his coach currently was.

"Look what I found!" He slammed a book and a pamphlet on the table. By their appearance, they must've seen better days by how much their sides were flaying. To say how horribly discoloured it was, was generous. However, I was able to notice the title of the book - The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon. And I gazed at the pamphlet with such an intensity that seemed uncalled for – The Doctrine of Fascism by Benito Mussolini.

Ed, blind to my angst, went on a rant, "You remember when I was unsure of how to structure my ideal government! Well, I have the answers here! And they all validate my core principles of enlightenment, cooperation and most importantly – collectivisation.

“I feel like the NCR focuses too much on individualism. That only leads to selfishness and greed that benefits the few. My brief read about this Roman empire is that to achieve my core principles, order must be restored. Democracy is too chaotic. And this pamphlet! It’s almost genius.”

The suffocating negative prejudice that I had with that pamphlet was irrational. I combed through my dreams, thanking Joshua’s God for my eidetic memory. However, nothing was coming up meaning I hadn't had this dream yet.

“Where were these found?”

“One of the scouts found this in one of the libraries in Peach Springs, just northwest of here.” Edward smiled and then laughed with incredulity. “They found this completely by mistake as they were too busy hiding from a swarm of cazadors. All of them will be handsomely rewarded.”

Panging headache came in and out as I thought of the word 'fascism'. That piqued my curiosity; looking forward to the dream that will reveal my current feelings of 'fascism'. From my dreams of hope, faith and Christianity hopefully, this will be the same. But why did I get an intense feeling about it? Something for future me to worry about, I suppose.

"I assume you've already made copies," I paused and saw him nod. "I'll give these a read, Ed. Thanks for bringing this up."

“Any feedback is welcome. I treasure your advice.” With reverence, he placed the two papers neatly into his drawer. "But you won't read this for now since I have an important task for you. One that will take most of your time."

I shot up in full attention and motioned for him to continue. "We're coming to a crossroad. It'll just be a day to Flagstaff if the I-40 is followed.” Edward took out a map and flattened it on the table; twisted it in my direction then pointed. “There’s a path leading north towards Hermit’s rest.”

Like a lightbulb flashing brightly, I spoke up, “Where several abandoned copper and uranium mines are found.”

"Exactly. I plan to split this expedition, not in half per se, but a significant force of prospectors and miners to travel due north. Of course, this force will have some security but I'll need to speak to Captain Kimball to organise it.”

I smirked before remembering basic etiquette. As swiftly as a cazador, I wiped the sinister grin from my face. “You want me to lead this convoy?”

"Who else could I trust? Just be sure to come back to Flagstaff within half a year. If not I’ll organise a rescue force.”

“Don’t you worry. I’m sure a few of the three-hundred, that you’ve convinced to come with us, are former couriers. I’ll try to send monthly updates if I can.”

“That’s a better idea, Leon. Though if you don't mind, can I challenge you with a few questions? Trust me, this is just to ease my mind on whether you’re ready or not.”

Not one to back down from a challenge I said, “Shoot.”

“I’ll be taking most of the farmers with me to Flagstaff, how will you secure long-term food security?”

“The mines are very near to the Kaibab forest.” I trailed my fingers between Hermit’s rest and a vast forest of green on the map. “Most of the prospectors and miners are used to working in areas in the middle of nowhere, with barely little infrastructure to reliably supply them with food. They’ll make fantastic foragers.”

Ed’s eyebrows rose at that, “You expect your prospectors and miners to do their job whilst foraging? Sounds terribly inefficient.”

“Oh, just the most experienced ones who lived out in the wild for too long. They’ll be instructing people how to forage effectively. Telling the difference between poisonous or food is very important.”

“I’m sure. So, you would leave the prospecting and mining to the least experienced?” Edward eyed me like an eagle.

“Not at all. I may not be as persuasive and charismatic as you, but I’ll try to win some of the former slaves over. Slowly, they’ll be the foragers or if we find a suitable grain – farmers for the future settlement up north.”

“Nicely answered, Leon. Lastly, what are you planning to do when you encounter natives?”

This is where Edward and I disagreed. He believed, almost naively, in the Follower’s way of peaceful trade and mutual cooperation between savages and civilised men.

I'm not as trusting as him. There is a fine line between savages and civilised people. Thin as the line is, but a line regardless. Despite this, I answered, “Diplomacy first and foremost. Dialogue and trade. Shower them with gifts and make them think we’re no threat.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“How so?”

“You’re saying an answer that you think I would prefer to listen to.”

He had me there. “Treating these savages with respect and kindness will do me good. Just look at Winnemucca and his surviving Paiute tribe. I’m sure they’ll come with me to the north.”

“And what if that doesn’t turn out the way you want it to?”

I sheepishly looked at him and lifted my service rifle, "I'm sure this will be persuasive enough. What did that pre-war president say? Speak softly but carry a big stick? This stick of mine can accelerate a bullet to half a kilometre."

Edward sniggered then a full-blown laughter escaped him. "It's been a while since I've laughed that hard! You’re stick needs to grow a little. But that will come with age.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” My gun can’t grow. Maybe I could add some modifications but making the barrel longer was asking for too much trouble.

“Looks like Frank was telling the truth.”

I looked at him confused and feeling a little left out. “What has Frank been telling you?”

"It's none of your business. If your memory is as good as you describe it then you'll remember this conversation and cringe. Right." He got up and then messed my hair. “Just so you know I made my decision yesterday. The series of questions I've asked you was just to reinforce my decision, just in case Captain Kimball would object. Expect fierce and combative questions from that man.

"He'll no doubt task his best lieutenant to come with you. That lieutenant will be his mouthpiece and may try to usurp control from you.”

I felt a drip of cold sweat trail down my back. Does Ed know? “Has Buzzcut done anything to undermine you?”

“Buzzcut? What a fitting nickname," He chuckled and was professional enough to answer my question. "Not in public, which I’m very thankful for. But I have to admit we did have a few shouting matches in private. He and I disagree in almost everything." He took a swig from his flask and clicked his tongue. "It's unnerving how quiet he has been. And how he was so quick to agree to me giving you command for this contingent.

"It just leaves me with one conclusion." I breathed in and held the air inside my lungs anticipating what he was going to say next. "He's underestimating you. He thinks you can be controlled. He thinks you're just a spoiled brat who's ego is easy to stroke. I reckon he’s making a big play which involves you.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I internally sighed in relief. Not only was Ed ignorant of Kimball's coup attempt but thinks he was plotting against me. This is excellent. "Don't worry I can handle him and his goons. I have Frank and the Christian preacher with me. And, God-willing, Winnemucca as well."

"I love your confidence. I trust you. Now you've got two days to prepare to set out. You'll be getting half of our provisions. Since you have a longer trek up north.”

“Will do. Thank you for giving me this opportunity and warning me about Buzzcut.”

Ed sighed and held his arms up, "Just my suspicions, Leon. I may just be grasping at straws made of air since that man vexes me. However, Aaron Kimball is a soldier who takes his orders seriously. I doubt he’s out to get me. For you, it may be different. So, be careful.”

I reached out for a handshake to which he accepted, “I will, Ed. Don’t you worry about me.” Really, I’ll be fine. I have Kimball under my pay though Edward doesn’t need to know that.

Spending two days organising the provisions, coaches and brahmins to go up north was tiring. I also had to do a sales pitch to convince the former slaves to come with me. In the end, just under two hundred chose to come with me. They’ll make good foragers. All of the miners and prospectors numbering hundred and twenty volunteered to come with me as their eyes glowed with greed.

Loyal and brave Winnemucca chose to travel with me, dragging all of his family and the surviving Paiute tribe.

Interestingly, three dozen warriors from the Derrick tribe chose to be part of my expedition. And of course, I accepted.

Aaron Kimball looked like he sucked on a sour lemon when I made that decision. He warned me about their treachery but from observing them in slow motion, I detected no lies. To validate my point I put two more points into perception, and persisted through the pain of having my ears ripped and reconstructured; I was able to hear their heart rate and pattern of breathing.

They were calm and measured. Some even looked at me with pure awe and admiration. I don’t know what I did, other than spare their lives, to receive such adulations but it was all welcome in the end.

I noticed a few of the miners and emancipated slaves running up and down a hill while being verbally abused by the Christian preacher.

“Get your backs to it, you lazy fucks! Even my grandma can run faster than you!

“Oy! You! If you don’t keep up with the rest of the shit-for-brains, I’ll shove this -” He waved his pistol and pistoned it to his fingers, “Right up your arse! Now get going, maggot!”

Horrified by the language, I ran over to him to put a stop to this nonsense. Or I was about to until Frank, held me by my shoulders. With my muscles tensing and pulsating, I felt confident with my stats in strength still Frank effortlessly held me down.

"I wouldn't interrupt 'im if I were you. He's drillin' your people, just like you told him."

“But he’s saying all sorts of mean things to them! I don’t know how this is helping!”

"It's to break them down so he can easily build 'em back up.”

I tilted my head to a forty-five-degree angle to exaggerate my confusion, "Why not just build them up?"

“Some of them ‘aven’t faced adversity and tremendous amounts of sufferin’. He’s being tough to put them in a stressful position, to build mental and physical resiliency. It’s to prepare the lot of ‘em for battles in the coming future.”

"Suppose I was joining the military, will they do this stuff to me?"

My bodyguard sized me up and then said, "Not sure 'bout the military. But during my training with the Stockmens, I had to undergo that bollocking." He took the time to inhale a fistful of smoke from his cigarette. "Though, I'll imagine the military will do all that and more. It’ll be the toughest time in your life. But from the stuff you’ve already seen, you’ll fit like fish to water.”

I felt my enthusiasm die like fire introduced to water. It fizzled out with any fight. I was an accomplished scientist and a successful businessman who may be worth millions! I refuse to suffer under the indignity of being belittled! God knows I’ve already experienced that with Frank.

Joshua allowed his poor and dishevelled ‘troopers’ a much-needed break. He saw me beckoning towards him.

“Is this how you’re training them? How in God’s name did they allow you to treat them like that?”

"First of all, do not take the Lord's name in vain. Second, a few tried - especially the Derrick warriors. I reminded them of the error of their ways." He growled at the end of his sentence and turned his head back, eyeing my militia with hunger in his eyes.

"That sounds far too ominous. I'd like you to wrap this session up and liaise with Lieutenant Jeff Simmons and his three sergeants. Thirty troopers and a squadron of rangers will be coming with us.”

“That’s a sizeable force.”

I grinned, "It's meant to be. After all, we're going to be mining a lot of rare earth minerals. We're all going to be rich, including you."

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. Do not be tempted with the allure of avarice."

I grit my teeth and felt a few blood vessels snap. I took a heavy breath and calmed myself down. This was going to be very tiring. “Worry not. I’m here to enrich everyone’s lives. No longer shall anyone under my command live in poverty. I call that charity.”

"I'm only here to advise."

"And advise you will. Now talk to them. Establish a proper chain of command. I'm at the top, of course, though I'll delegate to my subordinates about their rank in my hierarchy.” I shot him a glare, “Bear in mind, this requires a lot of trust. As I’ve said to Lieutenant Simmons, Sergeant Rita and two more sergeants who I haven’t had the chance to remember their name – failure to agree on a chain of command will be disappointing and a poor start to our journey together.

“Will you disappoint, Joshua Graham?”

I saw him struggle to gulp as he straightened himself, “No. I’ll work with them.”

“Excellent. You’re dismissed.”

As soon as he was out of the hearing distance, Frank fixed me a look I couldn't quite discern. "Damn, kid. Giving orders like that at age ten. What training did Brian – your pops, give you?"

“Nothing. I’m learning on the fly.” And relying on my dreams. I remember I was a Captain of a battalion that unleashed chlorine gas on a field near a town called Ypres. Shivering, I tried to make myself as small as possible to dodge a wave of guilt and shame that threatened to break my psyche.

I recovered quickly by reminding myself of the benefits of such an ordeal - commanding people became second nature. And this time, I will use this talent for good.

By dawn, my people assembled and set out north towards Kaiban Forest.

My Armed Forces eagerly took Joshua Graham as a ranking officer – though I heard grumbles from some of the troopers, accusing Joshua of being my political commissar. That was hurtful and offending. It undermined my ability to sway people to my side by appealing to their advancement and gain. I don’t need force and I certainly don't need a commissar to make my voice heard in my army.

Sic semper tyrannis after all. My goal was not tyranny but the mutual gain of all. Those grumbling troopers will soon learn their complaints were nothing but an unfounded accusation.

“You still feelin’ butthurt about that?”

“Of course, I am! They’re wrong. I’m tempted to prove them wrong.”

"Just like what we discussed, Leon. Prove them wrong through actions, not words." I know that! I don't need it repeated.

The convoy stopped suddenly as I spied Lieutenant Simmon’s hands raised up high in the air – fingers spread apart. I could see two of our rangers whispering to him.

Not wanting to miss out, I walked over to them. “What seems to be the problem?”

Simmons clenched his jaw and then reported to me, "Several tribal groups have been stalking us, ever since we entered the forest. So far the rangers report no signs of violence.”

“I wouldn’t trust their hospitality, sirs. I suspect they haven’t moved on us because they think we’re ignorant of them.”

I perked my ears as I listened to one of the rangers. I was curious about something so I asked, “How’d you detect them without those savages noticing you.”

The ranger took off his bandana, revealing a familiar old face. This was the ranger whose rifle I borrowed during the cazador attack.

"You recognise me, lad." I was proud that I was able to keep still and prevent myself from bristling at the blatant insubordination and disrespect. The old man took off his hat, revealing a pair of goggles with raven-black rims. “This here has night-vision. It makes seeing heat signatures easier.”

Infrared night vision? How fascinating. Where in Dharma’s hells are they getting these from?

“It’s good they don’t know we’re unto them. But the question is, do they have peaceful intentions.”

I highly doubt it. “The fact they haven’t introduced themselves is suspect,” I mused.

“I agree,” Jeff Simmons turned to the old man and ordered Ranger Perez. “Organise your squadron to attack them once they turn hostile.”

“Belay that order.” I turned to Jeff Simmons and apologised. “Terribly sorry to do this early on, Lieutenant. However, I don’t want to provoke them. Continue with passive surveillance, Ranger Perez. I want to initiate diplomacy. Violence should only be the last resort.”

“Yes, sir!”

I saw someone with a white lab coat coming near me and I recognised that it was Doctor Bill Calhoun. "That was well handled. You seem to already have the trooper's respect. I wonder what you’ve done?”

Not this again. “Your theory and fascination of me being a mutant with capable abilities is disturbing.”

“Who said about being a mutant?”

"Don't give me that doc. Ever since I told you about my condition, my sources tell me you've talked to nearly a hundred troopers who participated in repelling the cazadors. I assume – no, I’m confident that you’re trying to pry information about me.”

Bill Calhoun at least had the decency to look sheepish and ashamed. “I’m a scientist through and through. Physician close second. I can't help but learn about you."

“There’s nothing to learn. I’m just an ordinary human.”

"Sure you are." He coughed and pulled out a dusty and weathered notebook that exuded a tangy smell. "This is my certificate on foreign diplomacy, issued by the Council of Followers of the Apocalypse. If your intentions are true, I would like to be on this diplomatic mission.”

“My intentions are true. We know nothing of these people. The only way to know about them is by talking to them. Gouge out where their ramshackle huts they call cities are and we’ll see.”

“How ruthless. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

Three more days of nothing interesting happening. I cursed how boring the journey was and as if I was jinxed, a horn rang out and echoed throughout the trees, creating a rumbling that resembled a giant being awakened.

"Battle stations!" I heard Lieutenant Simmons yell. Joshua echoed this, causing his militia to grab their service rifles and stand at either side of the convoy. Their discipline then precise and swift execution of their orders amazed me.

Chanting and rhythmic thudding roared from all sides of the forest, unnerving many of his people. I wore the infrared goggles that I requisitioned from one of the rangers and peered through where they were.

“I know this language.” I heard Joshua murmur.

They were coming closer and closer. Bill, for all his intelligence, suggested that this was a ritual ceremony to welcome visitors. Myself, Frank and Simmons laughed him out.

One of the rangers signalled to the Lieutenant causing all of the NCR forces to aim their guns, prompting Joshua’s militia to do the same.

Closer. Louder. More thudding that sounded like drums of doom.

I readied my gun, pointing at the clumps of heat signatures directly in front of me. The world slowed to a crawl as I activated the vault-tec assisted targeting system in my pipboy.

The beating of drums also slowed, creating a cacophony of low pitched groaning interrupted by an occasional whistle. I distracted myself by smelling the woody musk of pine cones and radiated wilted leaves.

Anticipating the enemy felt like days but it was probably only a few minutes in real life.

A Red feather poked out of the shrubbery leading to a dozen or so rifles pointed in its direction. Soon it turned into a bouquet of feathers then an ornate golden headpiece stuck out. A man with purple dye ornately painted to his cheeks and the bridge of his nose walked out of the bush whilst wearing the skin of the bear. Its head peering between the man’s legs.

The tribal swayed right to left and vice versa, slowly at first before picking up in pace. Then they jumped and performed a spin in midair.

Bemused bewilderment struck the entire expedition causing many to lower their rifle.

Bill Calhoun shot me a smug smirk and walked over to them. I couldn’t stop him in time so I beckoned Joshua over. “I hate to admit it Joshua, but I think that crazy doc is right. This looks like a diplomatic ritual. And, I'm meeting them and you're coming with me. You said you know this language."

“Just wait a minute, Leon! I didn’t say I could translate directly!” I clicked my tongue and activated VATS again. This allowed me to think.

I thought of an idea when I pointed at one of the Paiute tribe, “You there, you know this language?”

“Not as much as the Blessed Missionary. But Brother Winnemucca probably knows.”

“Well go get him.” I moved to the ‘envoy’ - or whatever he is. Joshua and Frank followed.

"Shouldn't we wait for Winnemucca?" Frank asked.

"We cannot. Bill is about to initiate the diplomatic protocol. As the leader of this expedition, I have to be there."

As I was walking towards the man with a crown made of red feathers, I made sure to stop by Lieutenant Simmons. "Keep your men and the militia on alert. There are still dozens behind those bushes ready to pounce on us. I'll be taking Joshua with me along with a squadron from you to meet this envoy."

“Understood, sir. Sergeant Rita! Take your men and escort Mr Frederik.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” She said.

Bill was flailing his hands and occasionally gestured to himself. "B-Bill. What's your name?"

The savage only smiled and continued to dance. As soon as he was finished, he guttered a few words that may as well be gibberish.

Joshua hummed and vaguely translated it, “The dance he’s just done is to welcome visitors to their forest. They call themselves the Kaibabs. He’s asking why you’re moving into their territory.”

I raised my eyebrows at that as I took my time to scrutinise him. Eventually, I gave up in a huff of disappointment. "His face paint is serving as an effective mask. I couldn't tell from his facial expressions and tone if that was a friendly question or not."

"I think he's nervous and wary."

“Both sides are wary. Anyway, translate that we want to pass through this path towards and go northwest from here."

Joshua did his best to translate it. He was doing a good job by the sounds of approval coming from the man. More indiscernible speech later.

“He’s asking what your purpose is.”

“Tell him that we want to make a settlement," I assessed the tribal and noticed how he wore a skirt made of threaded leaves, "Or a city full of treehouses from the way he looks."

“That’s not very diplomatic,” Bill chided.

“Would they even get offended?” The doctor gave me an imperious gaze – I rolled my eyes and mimed for Joshua to get on with it.

“Now, he’s asking if we have peaceful intentions.”

Frank scoffed at this. “They’ve stalked us for three days without makin’ contact. We should be asking them if they ‘ave peaceful intentions.”

Three days of suspense, constantly alert for any raid did not make good nights of sleep which all added to our frustration. It was a minor miracle no one took the first shot. It was probably the dancing that did it.

Joshua struggled to find the word for peace instead he placed his palm over his heart. A universal sign of peace and sincerity, I thought.

That drained the colour on the envoy’s face as he rapidly retreated into the bushes and past the tree line.

"That didn't look good," Bill said.

“Yeah, good job, Graham.” Frank scoffed whilst elbowing him.

“This may cause a huge misunderstanding.” I didn’t want to be Captain Obvious but I think those savages don’t have the same signs of peace as we do. Difference in cultures, I suppose.

I pulled the infrared goggles and detected barely any movements from the heat signatures surrounding us. “At the very least, they’re giving us a benefit of a doubt by the way they’re not acting.”

“We should retreat, since preacher- here screwed up.”

“Apologies. I-”

“Save it for later. And Frank, cease your bullying at once.” I saw him roll his eyes at me.

By the time we were back, one of the ranger scouts noticed movement behind the tree line. Immediately after, hundred or so barely dressed men stepped out of the greenery, brandishing their stone clubs. I dismissed them but eyed the ones, nocking an arrow into their bows, like an eagle to prey.

“Joshua, I think this is a good time to tell them that we are ‘heartfelt’ in our peaceful intentions.”

“I think it’s a tad late for that.” Frank inspected the bullets in his magnum’s cylinder – whistled his approval and aimed it towards the tribals.

The Christian preacher, remained undaunted as he carefully walked towards them knowing their arrows could easily down him. He mimed and shouted a foreign language. Whatever he said did God’s work as I saw the tribals putting their weapons down. They were still alert by how much their palms clenched the handles of their primitive stone clubs.

The man with the red feather headpiece appeared once again and sincerely bowed looking apologetic.

I nudged over to Joshua who translated the savage’s language word for word. “He’s sorry for the misunderstanding. One of the lower tribes, the Tlaxla, who resides in the... ‘Great Basin’ practice ritual human sacrifice,” I saw Joshua’s face turn paler and paler as he struggled to unclench his jaw muscles. “It involves pulling the heart out of their victim to satisfy their false gods.”

Great. What next? A tribe full of cannibals? As far as I know, this Kaibab tribe may consume human meat.

“He invites us to one of their outposts.”

“Not one of their settlements? Do they even have villages, towns and cities?”

"No, they do not. The Kaibabs are a nomadic tribe who wanders this forest and seasonally crosses the Great Basin – I'm going to assume this is the Grand Canyon, to travel up the plateau.”

"Interesting. So, they must have some runnings with this Tlaxla tribe. I need more information about them. There's a chance they live near one of the gold mines in the Grand Canyon. They need to be wiped out. Diplomacy is out. We cannot afford to negotiate with people who sacrifice human lives," I said.

Lieutenant Jeff Simmons nodded eagerly at that whilst Doctor Calhoun looked sullen and frustrated.

"Anyways, we need a rest. We're still two days off from Hermit's Rest. Lodging with these lot seems safe enough."

Jeff interjected, “They were willing to club us to death just a while ago.”

“But they didn’t. They showed restraint. They showed diplomacy. Their weary – yes. But so are we.” This made them several times better than the Derrick tribe. “Joshua, accept their offer. We’ll be going to their outpost with our entire host – all four hundred of us.”

Once my message was translated, their red-feathered envoy’s eyes bulged out in surprise. “They’re asking how we number so much.”

So, they're relatively low in terms of population? Good to know "We have ways of bending earth and water spirits to our will." I was joking and sarcastic when I said that but Joshua translated verbatim. To the shock and horror of the tribals. A few were gasping and close to passing out.

“Why on earth did you translate that so directly?!” Bill voiced his concerns. “They’re going to think we’re sorcerers now.”

“It’s fine doc,” I said to calm him down. “From our advanced technology, we may as well be sorcerers to them. Or shamans in this case.”

The envoy came towards us and reverently touched our faces. “Yes, we’re humans just like you.” I silently murmured.

This set off the tide of warriors to come forward and place their palms on our faces. I applauded the discipline of Simmons' squadrons and Joshua's militia, staying still as a statue and letting them satiate their curiosity.

I released a heavy sigh that I didn't know I was holding for so long. The stress of being under threat of ambush for three days took a huge toll on me. And turns out they did it so they could dance in front of us and touch our faces.

All things considered, I would consider this first meeting rather successful.