ARISEN, Book Eleven - Deathmatch by Michael Stephen Fuchs Read Free Book Online

in Lilliput, got ushered toward the largest structure in the clearing. “This was the village closest to us,” Jake said. “And these were the Gs we had the closest relationship with. They also survived longest.”
    Handon figured that was due to proximity to the Special Forces guys. As he took it all in, he saw that this was a very primitive settlement: huts of hand-chopped juniper wood, topped with hand-woven thatch-and-mud roofs. The ground, including in the big hut they now entered, was nothing but dirt – but dirt that had been raked or smoothed over, pleasant and orderly and bordered by smooth stones. Handon knew this was the point at which poverty and pride diverged. You could always tell people who cared about where they lived, however little they had.
    The two soldiers took a seat on piles of long grass at the center of what felt to Handon like a wigwam. He took a cup of water from a smiling girl, but turned down a hunk of bread. However these kids were getting food, Handon wasn’t going to take it from them. He’d seen the humbling generosity of poor but proud people all over the globe, across many deployments. And he knew to honor it, while never taking advantage of it.
    While a few other children filed in, Jake finished his story. “Like I said, these guys survived longest. But eventually, a small herd wandered up here, headed right in their direction. All the adults in the village went out to fight them. None came back. But they did somehow divert the dead before they went down. So their children survived. And they lived on – but now on their own. We didn’t learn this until later.”
    Handon said, “And did you keep looking after them?”
    “Some. I gave them what we could spare, and helped where I could. But, like I said, Kwan and I decided not to tell the others. They probably would have insisted we share everything, which would have been a huge drain on resources. And we almost certainly would have lost our medic, which would have seriously dinged our life expectancy.” Jake smiled at the young boy who had guided them in. “That’s Dalmar. He was Elijah’s favorite.” His voice trailed off.
    Handon got it. The world was a very harsh place now. However, as he looked around at the smiling faces of the kids who crowded in around them, he also thought:
    But it’s still of place of miracles .
    * * *
    Handon sat silently while Jake spoke to Absimil, Dalmar, and a few others, in Somali Handon couldn’t follow, explaining what might be asked of them – namely going out to draw off ten thousand dead from around the Stronghold.
    The children nodded as they listened. About five minutes later, when Jake finished, the kids asked a couple of questions, then had a short discussion among themselves. Finally, when Absimil gave his answer, he gave it simply – and in English: "Yes," he said. “We will do it. Anything for the Triple Nickels. Anything."
    But even had he spoken in Somali, no translation would have been necessary. The young man’s face said it all. They obviously loved Jake and his ODA. The only Warsangali left were children – but they were all in.
    Though, as Handon looked around at the other faces in the room, some excited, some scared – and all of them younger than the adolescent who led them – he knew the question remained:
    Was he in? Could he do something like this?
    He had only the walk back to camp to agonize over it.

Deathmatch I
    Camp Davis – Team Tent
    “It’s sorted, then,” Henno said, after Handon explained what they were considering – namely sending a bunch of children, the only survivors of their clan, out to die, clearing the way for their mission.
    But Handon didn’t consider it settled at all. And he suddenly regretted telling the others, or at least Henno. Having done so, he could already feel the decision slipping out of his hands. He said, “We’ve still got the option of getting a team out from the Kennedy . Tasking the Marines that are left, or NSF. Or