CHAPTER 97: Think Like a Barbarian
The vehicles drove the dejected fighters through the city and towards the center of the Sentinel Army base. There were pick-up trucks, buses, flatbed trailers, military transports, quite a motley array. The people who watched them drive through Jackson saw the mood, the downturned heads, even if they didn’t know the results of the raid.
There hadn’t been much speaking over the last two days as the army waited for Adam to decide it was safe enough to leave the South Hampton Rift. It was the first time that the Sentinel Army had lost. The first raid where they had been overwhelmed.
Adam had never expected them to win every encounter or to take every base they attacked. He had expected that eventually he would run into invaders that outclassed him. In his head they had still escaped with an acceptable number of losses. Only in his head. The voice in his soul thought otherwise.
Two of his friends. Two of the strongest in this city, who had trained directly under “The General.” That was a lot of power to lose. Losing Captain Krysti would also put doubt in the soldiers from the U.S. army.
Morale, confidence, and determination. Those might waiver for others, but they wouldn’t waiver in Adam.
The vehicles looped around the Sentinel building. They unloaded their passengers in front. Then the drivers took the vehicles to the garages where they would be maintained and redirected to where they were needed.
The fighters knew what was coming though. Without removing their packs, gear or weapons, without getting any food or cleaning up, they gathered. People who hadn’t fought came out of buildings. Some had been gathered already, waiting for Adam to be the last to leave his vehicle.
Keeping a stony expression on his face, trying not to show too many emotions, Adam walked to the Sentinel Army statue and the walls with names nearby. The wall of heroes. There wouldn’t be enough room for all the names. They had lost more in this one fight than in total since the invasions started. 341 names needed to be carved.
Adam used the Rift Menu to raise new stone walls. Blank walls that would soon be full. Looking over the crowd gathered, meeting their eyes, he pulled the knife from his belt. Then he turned to the walls and began carving.
Captain Joe Krysti…
Nicholas Morris…
Lamar Cook…
The names went up. There was some audible crying in the crowds, but there were more silent tears. Adam didn’t cry, but inside he felt the loss.
Then a change happened. This ritual was a combination of an announcement and commendation to the fallen, an acknowledgment of what people had given to keep others safe. It had always been done by Adam. He had started it, and he had done the carving, knowing every single name. Adam never asked for help or whether he forgot someone. Every single name came out from Adam as though he knew them personally. People had just watched, separate from him, grieving but allowing him to shoulder the burden.
While Adam continued to carve names, a level 13 [Fire Mage] walked to the wall. Adam didn’t stop carving as she took the knife on the pedestal that Adam usually used. She walked to another area of the wall and began etching names. It wasn’t as easy for her to carve, and the results weren’t as smooth, but she stuck with it as five names went up.
Then she turned to the crowd and a man came forward. He was a protector and still held his shield. He rested it against the wall and took the knife from the mage. Then he carved two more names.
Those actions opened the gates. The knife was passed from one hand to the next. Space was made for people to put in their own friends and comrades. Adam continued to carve in silence, but the crowd moved forward.
The silence was filled with open crying now and with people talking about the fallen. They carved the names personal to them or rubbed the names of those they had known. People who didn’t have a connection still stood back and watched, but it became much more inclusive. Even with all the people taking their turns, no name was put up twice.
When Adam was done, when all 341 names were on the walls, he turned to the crowds like always. He looked over them all. Without a word he walked away. To the sentinel building. To his home. To a building with two fewer residents.
***
The next day Adam called a meeting. He couldn’t sleep much, spending most of his time sitting on a floating chair in his pool. Being able to control the temperature within areas of the base meant that the cold winter air hadn’t touched him.
His door had been locked, and not in a normal way either. In the Rift Menu he removed all permissions for others to open it, and then sealed it shut. No one disturbed him, not friends or family. That had been difficult for his mom, but he connected to her through the Rift Menu just to reassure her that he would be alright. He sent a few feelings through the connections with the girls as well and they gave him the space that he needed.
When he came out of his condo in the early morning, Adam was surprised to find Carlos sitting on the floor, hunched against the wall. Two days in the South Hampton Rift and they hadn’t spoken since Carlos had been led away by Lucas.
As Adam went to walk down the hallway, Carlos stood and walked next to him, head down. Not sure what to expect, Adam didn’t bother speaking. They entered the elevator together before Carlos lifted his head and spoke.
“I talked to their parents, told them what happened. They didn’t take it well. They shouldn’t take it well. I just thought you shouldn’t have to face that.”
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Carlos’s face screwed up in a mix of emotions.
“Thanks,” was all Adam said. He had been planning to do it this afternoon, and to take whatever anger they had.
“I’m sorry, Adam. I finally get it.”
There were a few more moments of silence as they exited the elevator on the meeting room floor. Adam waited just outside for Carlos to continue.
“I’ve been taking all this lightly. I saw the world fall. I’ve been nearly killed…several times. Even lost a finger. Others have died around me, but it never felt personal. Now I understand why you hate them so much and want to kill them all. There can be no mercy. No rest. We’ve got to get all these bastards off our planet and prevent them from doing this again.”
The anger in Carlos’s words was as strong as Adam felt when the heat pulsed inside of him. The difference was that Carlos felt it for real, and Adam’s mostly came from the soul corruption. He felt bad for Carlos. Adam put a hand on his shoulder.
“We’ll do that, Carlos. We’ll get all of them. We just need to make sure we stay around until the end,” Adam said, quivering with the hostile emotions his soul forced into him. Carlos nodded to him, his eyes burning while also looking half hollow. “Now let’s get to the meeting and find out which invaders will next suffer for our losses.”
***
The meeting room was full upon Adam entering it. He walked around the table to his chair. Everyone could feel his presence. When he sat upon the throne like chair at the raised portion of the table, no one could look away, even as some wanted to.
“Adam, I’m sorry for what happened. I know you lost two good friends. Krysti was another unfortunate loss. He was a good man,” said the Colonel. “Not every battle can be won, but we’ll make sure everyone recovers from this and that we’re prepared for next time.”
After a glance at Davian, Adam quickly looked around the room. His friends were there, both the ones that had been on the raid as well as those who had stayed behind to defend Jackson. Carlos looked downright haggard, but even Tom, Randall, and Joseph were uncharacteristically somber. Rick Sherman was in the room, as was Charles, who had originally come with Colonel Davian, sitting with the others who had been intelligence operators in the miliary.
Jordan Lane was not in the room, though Adam knew he would be listening. Adam’s parents were both there, looking concerned towards him. Detective Ron Baker was also there, switching between sympathy and nervousness. There were also plenty of other unit leaders from both the US Army and the Sentinel Army, including Lucas’s dad. Those men looked morose.
“What’s our next target?” Adam asked in a soft voice as he looked towards the intelligence operators.
“What?” several of them said in surprise.
“Adam, you need to take some time to grieve and build back up people’s confidence,” said Davian.
Adam glanced at him and then turned back to the nearly shaking men.
“I asked, what is our next target,” Adam said. The temperature in the room was rising.
“W-we don’t have a next target,” stammered one of the men.
“W-we’ll need some time to…” another started before being interrupted.
“Time to what?!” exploded Adam. “Time to give the invaders more of an advantage? Time for them to set another trap?”
“Adam!” scolded his mom. “I know you’re hurting but that is unfair!”
“No, mom, it’s not. This isn’t about fair or unfair. It isn’t about hurting or not. We need to make more progress and faster.” Adam turned to look at the intelligence operators. “Those weakened Pellicians who had lost to the Arripions had been power leveling. They knew how to get stronger. There were five…FIVE…invaders almost as strong as me. They knew my abilities, or thought they did. The rest of their army were in the second tier. You think sitting around, waiting for our emotions to settle, is an option?”
“It’s better than reacting in anger and losing more people,” said Davian.
“No, it isn’t. We need more strength. We need to stop delaying every raid. We need to hit them hard and constantly, so our men get stronger and theirs don’t.”
Everyone was silent. The waving air around Adam began to settle as he sat back and once more looked at those that were supposed to do this.
“I’ll ask again. Where is our next target?” Adam said. His voice sounded calmer, but everyone knew that was just a façade.
“Sir, we don’t have one,” said Rick quietly.
“Why not?”
“We need time to gather and analyze our intelligence.”
“I see,” said Adam. “The reason is because you guys are lacking in intelligence.”
Tom snorted at that. The men being addressed went pale.
“How did you get intelligence before the [System]?” asked Adam.
“We used satellites and undercover assets to watch areas. We infiltrated the enemies, sometimes years in advance. Background checks and histories on key players were gathered. Profilers consulted. We also traded intel with foreign allies,” one of the men said boldly.
“Then tell me,” started Adam, “what do our satellites show now?”
“Er…we don’t have access to satellites, sir,” said one man confused.
“Right. Right. Satellites are out then. What do our undercover assets have to report about the invaders?” asked Adam after pretending to think for a minute.
“You know it’s not possible to infiltrate the enemy bases,” snapped one man before realizing his mistake as the grinding sound of a sword being drawn from Tom’s belt could be heard.
“And what have your background checks of the invaders turn up?” Adam watched the shaking heads. Even Colonel Davian was looking pale as Adam slowly stood, heat radiating from him. The atmosphere in the room was becoming stifling.
“What did our allies tell us?” demanded Adam with everyone knowing the answer.
When the silence continued, Adam asked, “Then what are you using for intelligence? What have you people been doing?!”
“Mostly we review maps, read reports from scouts, and try to decipher the Rift Menu,” said Rick quietly, seeming more resistant to Adam’s temper than before the failed raid.
“That’s all completely useless! Scouts are roaming and easy to avoid, not to mention scarce. We could have hordes sneaking up to us. The Menu isn’t about to be deciphered without something to key it. Finally, most of the maps are still from pre-[System]. You’re only changing them based on word of mouth. Completely useless!”
“Adam, I don’t think this tantrum of yours is going to magically help information appear,” said the Colonel gruffly.
“No, it probably won’t. But I asked a simple question and am still waiting for an answer. You’ve all been choosing our targets since we started going on the offensive two months ago. So, I ask again. What is our next target?”
“We don’t have the intel to…” another man started.
“Then don’t use intel. THINK LIKE A BARBARIAN!” yelled Adam. “You’re so used to have the top technology, political power, and pressure. Yet, we’ve been reduced to being cavemen trying to fight dinosaurs with stone weapons. Dinosaurs carrying guns. Unlike our enemies, we don’t have the resources, knowledge, or experience. We’re going to have to build our technology from scratch.”
Adam waited several moments to give everyone time for it to sink in. It felt like the men there had been kicked in the head. They groaned and slumped in their seats. Two began writing furiously into a notepad. Even Colonel Davian was left speechless.
After some time, Adam asked once more, “Now where is our next target?”
“There is one possibility,” said a man in a small voice as he hesitantly raised his hand. The other men instantly facepalmed, put their heads down, or pushed away from the table.