Command And Control

— Taylor —

Taylor drank with his command staff in a narrow wadi only a few kilometers from Laggard's Shaft. Canopies in camouflage were stretched across the narrow tributary to shelter them from the sun and keep them hidden. They sat in a circle on a stone slab, swept clean for the map between them. Stone markers denoted friendly and enemy forces, and were updated as news trickled in from the links.

Blue-black pebbles showed the Kashmari, stretched out in a thin line between the Laggard mine and Bitter Spring. A smaller number of scarlet calique markers moved in dense clumps. They trailed the dark markers at a distance. Two white oblong stones marked the monstrous scorpions trapped near the mine. They had served the Calique well, but they couldn't be allowed to live much longer. As soon as the war was over, they'd be exterminated before they could reproduce.

While the fleeing losers inched westward Taylor was scanning reports on food, water, and force readiness. So far, they hadn't suffered any injuries healers couldn't fix. Casualties for the Laggard mine battle should be slim, from accidents or arrows shot by a lucky enemy. They would have to face their opponents on the ground eventually, but not yet. He was resolved to give the desert time to do its work.

Taylor's focus was pulled by Gohar, who was trying to ask him a question. "I thought you were saving them for later."

"Saving who?"

"The fire stones, Pasha. I thought they were for the next garden taken over. Saluja or Dagono."

"They were," said Taylor, as he put aside the boards and recovered his cup. He didn't bother to explain how he'd refined kerosene from the hydrocarbons of Scavenger Lake, what a fuel-air explosion was, or how much work went into inscribing the canisters to get exactly the dispersal and ignition required to be so devastating. 'Fire stone' conveyed the invention's purpose well enough. "I expected a small scouting party, but Zaid came in force. The fire stones were well-spent: six thousand dead, and many of the wounded won't be able to fight."

"The prince knows what we're doing," Gohar mused. The ex-maul was old enough to remember two previous incursions by Kashmar. "He thought he would find you there, and he almost did."

"I agree." Ma'Tocha had shadowed Taylor's every decision but had given him very little advice. "He'll try to be less predictable from here on out."

One of the aides got Taylor's attention. "Pasha, the mauls are on conference. They want to talk to you."

"I think I know where this is going. Let's hear them out."

The aide put a link into the bowl-like stand that amplified sound.

"Your excellency," said a voice he recognized, the maul of Emerald Pool. "The mauls have agreed, we want to engage the retreating Kashmari."

"The mauls have not all agreed," said another voice, Maul Amadis. "Dagono sees wisdom in letting the desert kill them."

Taylor ventured a bit of levity. "It's not very satisfying though, is it?" He was rewarded with wry laughter coming through the link. With the enemy so weakened the desire to pounce on them was palpable. Even Taylor had an urge to take the field and fight his enemy face-to-face. But, despite their weakened condition, the fleeing Kashmari had a few thousand spears who could still fight, and a formidable force of untouched elite cavalry. Taylor had the bulk of his forces nearby, but that was only three thousand fighters. His remaining two thousand were bottling up invaders in the Riverlands, dealing with Hyskos mercenaries, or protecting Sand Castle. A mistake here could end the Calique defense. If he could keep Kashmar in the desert for long enough without sufficient water, the gardens would win.

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"We are the hunter," Taylor reasoned, "who traps a beast much larger than himself. You're suggesting we get into the trap and fight the animal in close combat. That would be entertaining to watch, but it's a poor use of men's lives. We gain more by waiting than we do by attacking now.

"However," he continued, "I'm concerned Zaid will understand how hopeless his situation is and try to take his army home. It's time to deprive him of his gurantors: steal or kill as many as you can tonight. Wherever he decides to go, he'll be getting there on foot without a supply train. While we're at it, round up all the loose appalons, even the wounded ones. We'll have disciples heal them, and make them part of the spoils." Taylor let the mauls work through the details and approved their requests for disciple support.

For Nexus, victory required more than driving away the latest Princeps. It wasn't enough not to lose to the invaders and send them home, where they could tell stories of their courage and all the pillage they brought home. For the desert to be safe in the long run, Taylor had to break Kashmar's obsession with Sand Castle, had to break Kashmar's very idea of itself: a profound change. And it began with an army forced to return home in chains.

But to win like that, Kashmar's army had to press onward even when victory seemed unlikely, far enough and long enough to make disaster inevitable. To that end, Taylor teased the Princeps with death over and over again. Zaid's belief in Destiny was his core, and he'd never give up, not when the universe was telling him he was special.

"Broken Ode is engaging a battalion of spearmen," came a new voice, a disciple who used to be an Enclave healer.

"Masood, break off this pursuit! It's pointless! That's an order!" After a minute, Taylor repeated the order but Masood didn't answer.

"He's thrown away his link," said the disciple's voice.

"Fall back and watch. Use Overlook. Don't risk yourself or your followers."

For several minutes, Masood's two hundred hunters chipped away at the retreating enemy. The fleeing unit had somehow been separated from the main body and was paying the price.

"There's a small cavalry force to the north, elites, less than a company. Masood's turning to engage." A few moments later she added, "They're running away."

There weren't any forces on the map north of Masood's position, but maps were always incomplete. Taylor knew his battlefield information was excellent, but that didn't mean it was perfect. If he were in Zaid's shoes, sick of being ambushed and baited, he'd …

"Probably a trap," said Ma'Tocha, pointing at the course of the Great River, "all these crescent lakes, and the river itself, are good ambush spots. You just have to get someone to follow you in blindly."

"Parsa!" Taylor wrote a quick message on a wooden board and passed it to the jimala who approached him, enhanced and ready to run. To Taylor's surprise, he took the message in his teeth: he planned to deliver it without stopping. "Here's Broken Ode now," he said while pointing at the map, "they're heading north. If you have to search for them, start with the crescent lakes here and here." Taylor fist-bumped the courier's horns. "Run to the light, my friend."

With the message deployed, Taylor called for a cadre and reached for his weapons.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Ma'Tocha.

"We can't afford to throw away two hundred men, even if they are being stupid. If they get into trouble like we think they will, I can break up the enemy long enough for Broken Ode to get away. We'll use ranged weapons. We don't have to kill them, just pull them away."

"That's a good plan, but our Hierarch isn't going into battle over this. You keep doing what you're doing." Before he could object she added, "You made me your field commander, didn't you? So listen to my advice. You've got this," she gestured at the temporary command center. "I'll handle the other thing."

"Right." Taylor sat down and tried not to look like a frustrated teenager.

Gohar laughed at him, but not unkindly. "Savor that feeling, Pasha. It's the privilege of the young. And be sure to share it with Masood if he returns alive. Give him a good scolding. My successor has a bold heart but he needs this lesson, no matter how hard it is. I did too, when I was his age."

"That's going to be a very expensive lesson." He realized he couldn't put it all on Masood. Taylor was the one who put a commander he didn't trust into a situation demanding good impulse control. He had been so focused on Zaid that he'd given the mauls' personalities little thought. If he knew his mauls as well as he did his Kashmari counterpart, Broken Ode might not be in danger of losing all of its hunters.