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By the end of February, Marta had bounced back from giving birth and she’d wangled for herself an invitation into my bed. The tall woman was an enthusiastic lover and while her primary focus was on being bedded by me, she had no problem with the fact that there were four other women in my bed or that they liked to get involved. Since everyone in the bed ended up happy once all the moaning and groaning was over, no one minded that Marta had a habit of monopolizing my attention. It did however become clear that Marta had an agenda.

Marta wanted another child. She was young, strong, and smart. She’d seen me with my other women, and my children with them. She’d seen the way I treated them and the way they were treated in the community. While we had a very egalitarian society in the fact that everyone worked and everyone had a voice in the community, the community was still stratified. There was me (followed by Clara and Gabby on one side of the community and Rugar on the other), then my advisors and chief helpers (and the chief helpers included both women as well as men), then there was the rest of the community. Marta wanted to be one of my chief helpers; and, to be truthful about it, most of the women helpers had borne me a child.

I didn’t mind the fact that Marta wanted a child, or that she wanted to move up in the world. As I said, she was a smart woman. She’d proven useful during the trek through the pass with her people and the refugees who’d come with Wodon. She’d been helpful at the settlement in the last days of autumn just before the snow. She and her companions had foraged quite a lot of forest plants for us, while others in our community focused on bringing in more wheat and oats to help tide us over winter. From there she’d taken on other tasks and she’d tried to learn new things. Even Ramie felt she would be a good addition to those women that I could rely upon to make certain that our community not only survived, but that it thrived. The thing I did have a problem with, was what Marta liked to whisper in my ear as we lay together after having made love. She wanted me to get a tattoo.

Marta’s people were big on tattoos, and most women in her old community were experts at creating them. Marta’s best friend, and one of the women who’d journeyed with us back to the settlement last fall, Maia, was a true talent. It had been she who’d done the tattoos sported by Burton, Sygor, and the two ex-River youths. To my surprise, I found out shortly after Marta raised the topic with me, that many others amongst the fighting force had gotten a tattoo as well.

I’ll be honest with you. I’m not a big fan of tattoos. My grandfather had them and I remember seeing them as a boy. I also remember my grandmother commenting on them. She never liked tattoos, and she’d made that clear to me and to others, more than once. I guess I inherited her bias which meant that I was resistant to the idea of getting one.

I learned about the others getting tattoos when I bedded Ohba one night. When she came to me I found her sporting two of them. She had a fish tattooed onto her upper left arm, near the shoulder, and she had a bear’s head on the opposite arm, in the same spot there. She was very proud of them. She told me that the fish represented her old life and heritage, and that the bear represented her commitment to our tribe. She then shared with me the fact that all the ex-River people amongst the fighting force were sporting similar tattoos. She even told me that Bogdi and Geeta wore them, though the brother and sister had a horse’s head on their left arm instead of a fish.

Marta finally sold me on the idea when she brought Maia to speak with me. I knew Maia to see her, and even though I had bedded her a time or two since she’d joined our community, I didn’t know her well. In fact, much of what I did know of her had come to me second hand; all of which had been good.

Marta hadn’t actually brought Maia to talk to me. She’d brought the woman to show me the quality of artwork that the former Forest women could create.

Maia was a walking billboard for the tattoo art that the Forest people excelled in. Her mother had been an expert tattoo artist, and she’d decorated her daughter’s body with some of her finest work. She’d also instructed Maia in the craft. I had to admit that visually the artwork was an impressive sight.

Maia was a medium tall woman who stood about five-foot-five. She was muscular, hard-bodied, and fit. She had a mane of thick brown hair that she wore in dreadlocks; she had a dark complexion, a strong face with deep set brown eyes, and a petite figure. Her breasts weren’t at all big and heavy; they were like small, firm apples. While her head was a mop of hair, her pubic hair was actually sparse. I’d enjoyed making love to her.

Marta presented Maia to me in just a loincloth so I could exam the tattoos properly. While Marta only had the one tattoo on her upper right arm, Maia had several. She had several minor tattoos about her wrists and ankles that were simply ornate bands representing animal spirits that the Forest People worshipped. She then had a mountain cat on her left shoulder and a bear on her right. The most impressive of her tattoos was on her back. She had an eagle there, with spread wings. She was proud of every one of them.

“We could do a giant bear on your back, Jake, if you’d let us,” Marta suggested once her visual display was over. “It would be perfect for a hunter and leader of your stature. What do you think?”

By that point my thoughts weren’t on tattoos. Maia was something to look at, regardless of the artwork that adorned her body, and it had been a while since we’d last rolled about in the furs together. From the twinkle in her eyes, I could tell that Maia was probably thinking the same thing that I was thinking. Still, I needed to give Marta an answer, if for no other reason than to shut her up long enough that I could convince Maia to spend sometime with me.

“A small tattoo,” I replied giving Marta a firm stare in an attempt to get the point across. “I will allow Maia to adorn my right shoulder with a bear’s head like everyone else has. That is it, at least for now. You can start on it, tomorrow.”

“There is a price,” Maia stated in a throaty voice, speaking up quickly before Marta could say anything to seal the deal. “I want a child. I want the leader’s child.”

“Will you lay only with me until it happens?” I asked the woman bluntly, silently visualizing Maia with a swollen belly.

“I will,” Maia affirmed with a broad, happy grin.

“Then it is a deal,” I declared getting up out of my seat. “You will start on the tattoo tomorrow, and I will take you to my furs right now, and we can start on that baby. Agreed?”

Maia agreed willingly. She pulled the drawstring that held her loincloth in place, letting the garment drop to the ground about her feet. Then she stepped to me. Her dark nipples were erect. I didn’t know if they were hard because of the cold or because Maia was excited. Her kiss gave me a hint at the answer. It was deep, passionate, and filled with wanting. It stirred my own desire.

“We’ll speak later, Marta,” I told the tall woman, who smiled warmly at us as I prepared to take the other woman to my furs. “For now, grant me an hour’s peace to enjoy Maia. Then come and join us in my furs. You deserve a reward as well.”

That put a bigger smile on Marta’s lips than there had been a moment before. She’d finally gotten me to agree to a tattoo, and she was going to get another crack at becoming a mother again. I just smiled at her response, knowing full well that I was going to enjoy myself that day, regardless of the pain I would experience on the morrow. I was definitely going to make it worth my while. With that I turned Maia towards my bedchamber, pulling her naked body into my side as we walked away, both of us smiling contentedly as we went. It was going to be a good day.

Clara, Kim, and I met with Carmen the next day, before Maia got her hands on me. We talked. The young Puerto Rican woman was a little reserved towards us at first, but that was understandable given what she’d gone through recently. She did begin to relax once she realized that we only wanted to have a chat with her, and that everything was fine. By the end of the conversation, she was actually ecstatic.

What made her ecstatic was the fact that I had agreed with both Kim and Clara that she should be the medic for the women’s fighting team. I’d spoken to Trona about it the night before, and the young woman had no problem with giving up her position. The tribe was expecting a few more births in the coming months and Trona admitted to me that she preferred delivering a child over humping a medical pack cross country in support of a fighting force. Her willingness to give up her spot, made giving the job to Carmen that much easier.

I did point out to Carmen that she had a lot of work to do to catch up to the rest of the fighting forces. Her days were going to be long between now and when we headed south. I’d spoken to Carmen, and to the others who’d served at Winslow’s base, and I’d learned through those discussions that weapons training for support personnel wasn’t a priority for Winslow and his goons.

To me it didn’t make sense, considering the fact that Winslow had dropped several hundred modern people into a very dangerous environment; but then again, a lot of things that Winslow had done had never made sense to me. I’d found out from Carmen that she’d only received a single day of weapon familiarization training after joining Quantum. It had been on her carbine and her pistol, and in total she’d only put about a hundred rounds through the carbine, while sighting it in, and then drilling with it to learn the basic standing, kneeling, and prone firing positions. She’d actually only fired a single magazine with her sidearm. On finding that out, I just shook my head in disbelief, and pointed her towards Dunbar. If she paid attention to him, at least if she did get into trouble down the road, she’d be able to fight her way out of it.

The other matter we spoke to Carmen about, was the work that she’d done with the children. I had long term plans for the young woman, and I told her all about them. It actually put a big smile on her face.

The thing was that I knew that my people needed to learn to survive; and, more importantly, to thrive. In a normal caveman community most of the teaching goes from father to son and mother to daughter. My tribe wasn’t normal. To begin with we were technologically more advanced than any other tribe living near us, and when I say this I wasn’t referring to our uptime technology like the lights and solar power arrays. We had horses and wagons, ploughs, sleds, and other load moving apparatus such as wheelbarrows and carts. Those items alone gave us an edge over other tribes. When you tossed in the bows and arrows, the hunting lances, and the saddles and tack that we could manufacture, we were leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else. The thing was that to maintain that technological edge and to push it further along, my people needed an educational system that could sustain it. In essence, I spoke to Carmen about becoming a teacher.

I wasn’t expecting her to teach how to do the practical things we did to the children, because that was going to be done by people like Uttar, Vedic, and Balto; but I did want our children’s minds prepared to grasp the how and why we did things, and what the future might bring with a little more thinking ahead. I was talking about setting up a communal pre-school, where the end goal would be to introduce the children to reading, writing, and arithmetic. Carmen loved the idea.

Speaking to Carmen raised another problem I’d sort of put off. That problem was, what to do about Gus. Clara had told me that his arm was healing well enough, although he needed physiotherapy and that there was no guarantee that he’d get the full use of it back. That meant that I needed to find a way to make him useful.

To begin with, at least for the moment, I wasn’t ready to trust him with a weapon even if his arm was back to being one-hundred percent. I just didn’t trust the guy. That meant having a chat with him about what his interests were, so I could at least have an idea of what sort of work he was interested in. As one might expect, that conversation proved interesting, to say the very least. It also proved to be a bit frustrating.

At first I didn’t know how to take Gus. He was younger than me, and I could tell from the start, he came from a different background than me. He’d been born in the big city, and he’d gone to college before entering a couple of dead-end jobs in an attempt to pay the bills. I hadn’t. I’d been raised in a small town and had spent time living on the farm. When I got old enough, I’d enlisted. It made it hard to connect with the guy.

At first I thought that he was a bit like Lottie. She had interests, but they weren’t readily recognizable because of the time of the year. I asked Gus about that. It turned out that he really didn’t have any interests at all, except for hanging out playing video games. He’d actually been doing that, while sitting about healing up from his injuries. The man had a tablet with him filled with games that he’d been playing. When the battery on the tablet ran down, he simply plugged in a small solar charger that he’d brought with him, and in a few hours he was ready to go again. I simply shook my head.

It turned out that Gus didn’t like hunting, fishing, or anything related to the outdoors. I just couldn’t understand why Quantum had hired him. I asked him about farming and I got a dismissive shrug in response. I got the same dismissive shrug when I brought up other jobs like carpentry, pottery making, saddle making, or anything else that would have helped him contribute to the community. I wasn’t impressed.

I then asked about who he’d been hanging out with. It turned out that he’d been keeping to himself.

“You haven’t made a girlfriend?” I asked out of curiosity, knowing full well that the women in my community liked sex as well as most men. They would openly pursue it, if there was a single man standing about interested in them. To my surprise, I got a ‘no.’ I sighed at that, and then shook my head, knowing full well that I really didn’t want to go down ‘that road’ with the guy. It just wasn’t any of my business.

In the end I decided that Gus was going to enter an on-the-job training program. The guy had no interests; but from my perspective, he wasn’t going to sit on his ass playing video games, or reading stories he’d downloaded onto his tablet. Instead he’d be given jobs around the settlement that would challenge him. He’d do a couple of months at each job to get some experience, and then when he was done, I’d speak to him again. Hopefully in the process he’d find his own niche. The alternative wasn’t very pretty. However, before that could even happen, Gus needed to learn the language. The fact was that the guy hadn’t made much of an effort in learning the common tongue, and of all the uptime people, he was the worst at speaking it.

Gus wasn’t happy with my decision, but he shut his mouth when I told him that I’d take his tablet away from him. He took one look at me, and believed that I would. I then pointed out his other choice. He didn’t like that either. He had no desire to walk back to Winslow’s base, especially since he knew we were about to attack it. He simply agreed to do what I said. I let him go, knowing full well that we’d have to keep an eye on him. He was going to be trouble.

It also became clear that not everyone in the community agreed with my treatment of Ruba, Carmen, and Lottie. Most of my downtime people accepted my decision without question. It had been hard on them as well, enforcing the decision, but the majority understood the reasoning behind it. I did speak to Wodon in private about the matter. The old shaman supported me, pointing out that Ruba had not only shown poor judgement, but that she’d convinced others to doubt my word, and that was something that I couldn’t permit. Gogra agreed with him, while Rugar took a more moderate stance. Even so, Rugar stood by me on the matter. The real problem arose from the uptime people who hadn’t been with us for long. Clara and Gabby both had differing opinions on the matter, but both had lived and breathed in our community for almost four years now, and they knew the importance of maintaining community trust and confidence, and they supported me. People like Rolf, Carlos, and Gus didn’t understand. Rolf talked to me about it as by now he was confident enough in his value to our community that he was willing to challenge me on matters, although he didn’t do it too often and he didn’t do it publicly. He’d thought I’d mismanaged the situation. I heard him out and then tried to explain that it hadn’t been about me or my ego, but about trust within the tribe. He still argued that he felt I’d let my personal feelings influence my judgement. I didn’t refute what he told me. It had definitely hurt to find out that Ruba actually didn’t trust me enough to come to me directly on an issue, and that she’d manipulate others to achieve her end, even if it hurt those other people. I might have screwed up dealing with the women but I still felt that shunning them had been the most reasonable course of action that I could take given the situation and the fact that in our community people needed to be able to trust each other in all things if we were to survive. As I pointed out to the man, we weren’t back in our world where I could have simply called Ruba into an office, had a word with her, and then put a bad note on her personnel file. Things didn’t work that way in the here and now.

Regardless it was clear that I’d burnt a couple of bridges in my dealings with the three women, and that it would take time to rebuild them. I got the impression that Rolf would give me the chance. I wasn’t sure about Carlos and Gus, or a couple of the others. Beverly had been surprised by my actions as had Monty. Kim had spoken to them both along with the others who’d come with her. She’d told me that all was well. Only time would tell. For now I would have to tread lightly and watch how people moved on as our community continued to face the coming months.

March became a month dedicated to war games. By that point everyone undergoing training was familiar with their weapons. They had fired them repeatedly, and were trained in basic small unit tactics. It was the best we could do under the circumstances, with the facilities at hand, and in the time available to prepare everyone for what would come in spring. The only thing left we could do was to put an edge on the weapon we’d created.

Dunbar led the men while Kim led the women. I sat back and watched, acting as umpire and final judge in deciding whether we needed to do it again.

It became quickly obvious to everyone that I was needed. The truth was that the men didn’t like losing to the women. Even when it was clear that the women had sprung a perfect ambush and they’d wiped out a male patrol, the men argued about it. It took me stepping in repeatedly to keep things somewhat civil.

The other problem with training was ammunition. We had no blank ammunition so in some instances alternatives to spraying the enemy force with bullets had to be found. Snowballs proved a fun substitute in most cases; although, again, I would almost always have to come and break it up since neither side wanted to surrender.

Competition did help improve the level of training my people had. Since no one liked to lose, everyone did their best to spot any potential ambush or to sneak into the enemy camp and capture their flag without getting caught. We even pitted our attack force against our home defenders, to help test their ability to repel attacks. That proved interesting! Though Rugar wasn’t a trained soldier, he was a natural born general. He and the defenders showed themselves to be just as ready as our attacking force. In the end, those who did show skill and aptitude were recognized by their compatriots. Ruba returned to command the women’s force, allowing Kim to join me at command level.

By the end of March we were ready to go. Each squad had been put through their paces and each man or women in the force had been given a chance to shine. There wasn’t much left to do, but to pack gear and load it onto the helicopter. That started the second week of April.

We’d received two more snow storms after Burton had left which had added another foot of snow to the ground. That had to be dug up and cleared away so we could get to the helicopter. Once that had been done, Lottie, Helen, and Sarah started doing maintenance and pre-flight checks.

Not everything during that time was focused on training people to fight and preparing to go and do it. Regardless of what happened to the south, the people being left behind had to be thought about as well, and not simply as to how they would defend themselves. That had been addressed by Dunbar and me over the winter. Rugar and the older men in the community had been trained as well as we could train them in defending the settlement. What also had to be done was planning for the next year; as in planting crops, and in building new quarters for the people we had living with us, and for the people we might bring back.

That was a matter that got discussed often by my advisors and me. We were heading south to confront Winslow and his people. If we won, several questions existed that had to be answered by me before I left. The fact was that all sorts of things might occur after the encounter. Winslow had well over a hundred people with him, and perhaps more. Would I be killing them all or taking them prisoner? Would I let them go off on their own to try and make a start of it somewhere else, or would I invite them to come back to the settlement as part of our tribe? Then there were whoever Burton had encountered down south while sneaking about messing with Winslow and his men. Would we make friends with these allies, helping them to re-establish themselves in the region Winslow had been exploiting or would we leave them to their own resources? The same question stood for any prisoners we liberated from Winslow’s base. Would we simply set them free and forget about them, or take responsibility for them? Would we in fact recruit both our allies and the freed people to come and join us up north at the settlement? A more important question was would we stay in the north once the conflict was over, or would we head south and take over the base Winslow had built? It was hard to say, and most of the answers had to wait until the crisis had been resolved and Winslow had been defeated. Only then could I truly say.

I did want a new longhouse built for the people we already had in residence. I left that up to Uttar to handle. He’d have to employ a few of the younger boys to help out, and probably some of the young women, since most of the men in the village were going to be off with me or out hunting. There were plenty of people left behind, male and female to get the job done, as well as some of the other tasks that had to be done.

The big job that spring was going to be planting wheat. I’d already identified where I wanted the wheat planted, as well as where to put in a large vegetable garden beyond the protection of the enclosure. The new garden was needed to help feed our growing population, and if we were expanding the living area of our settlement, then we needed to move some of our food production out of the enclosure and onto a nearby hill.

It was going to take work and vigilance for these two projects. The garden would need to be enclosed with wattle fencing to keep rabbits and other animals out of it, while the wheat field would need stouter fences to keep large game from wandering in and eating the wheat. It could be done, but it required coordination and forethought in implementing the work. I hoped Rugar and the other men I left behind could manage it. I also hoped that whatever happened down south, I would be back well before the end of May so I could help ensure everything that I wanted done would get done that year.

Saying good-bye was the hardest thing to do. When I’d gone away before, most people in my community had expected me to return, sooner or later, but well and alive. This time it was different. I’d spent almost five months drilling into my people the seriousness of what was about to happen. I’d spoken to everyone about it, and most of them understood that this time I might not come back. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about. I was a trained soldier and I knew the mantra, ‘it was my job to make sure the other guy died’. Still, I had to prepare them. In the last few days before heading out, the people started to get a clue.

I told Clara and Gabby I’d be careful. I made love to them every night before the last night, and I made love to most of my women as well. Those who I didn’t make love to for whatever the reason, I held in my arms and comforted through the night.

We ended up having one last feast before going. By then the snow had started to melt and the days were much warmer and longer. I spoke to everyone as a group one last time, and then I went off to my bed. I didn’t sleep with my mates that night. I slept with my children. I held them close and made certain that they were all safe. In the morning I said good-bye.

“Keep a watch on the pass,” I told Rugar, probably for the umpteenth time. “Mondo might pay you a visit; or, even worse, Winslow and his bad men might come. They might have returned to the northern compound since I was there last. You never know.”

“I will Jake,” Rugar promised me, his face serious, “and I will have men keep an eye on the sky. You don’t have to worry.”

But I did. I was the leader and these were my people and my responsibility. Even though I knew in my heart that I’d done my best to prepare them for whatever might come, my brain wouldn’t accept it. It churned with worry, and it just wouldn’t let go. It was with a heavy heart that I finally boarded the Chinook. I sighed when Sarah finally pushed the button and the rear ramp closed in my face.

“Go sit,” Sarah ordered me, giving me a firm glare, “and strap yourself in. We’ll be airborne in a minute.”

Obediently I did what Sarah said. A few moments later we were in the air.

The trip southward took about an hour and a bit. We weren’t going to land in the same place where we’d dropped off Burton and his team. Our plan was to fly out to sea until we were out of sight of land and then slip south of Winslow’s base. The hope was that we’d avoid detection, and then once on the ground, use the fact that we were south of the base and not north to our advantage. It would use up more of our precious fuel, but hopefully it would prove worth it.

Lottie alerted me when we flew over the southern compound. I glanced out and watched it slip by as we flew over it. I was happy to note that it still looked abandoned and that the Puma was still sitting out in the open field, where we’d left it. If all went well we’d be back soon enough and we’d drop down and pay that helicopter a visit. I still wanted what fuel was left in it, and I hoped that success in the south would provide us with the tools to get it.

The rest of the trip turned out to be uneventful. We did have a little excitement when Gogra took a look out a window during the flight over the Adriatic and he saw all the water. I’d warned people not to look, but he’d seen me glancing out from time to time and he’d decided to do the same himself. His alarm at seeing so much water from so far up in the sky startled several others, who rushed to see what was wrong, only for them to cry out in fright, as well. It took Sarah, Kim, and I to get them all back in their seats.

Lottie set the helicopter down in a meadow some ten miles south of Winslow’s base, and well in from the coastline. It was situated in a small valley that was surrounded on all sides by forest-covered hills. It was out of the way, and hopefully safe which it needed to be.

“Post sentries,” I shouted to Dunbar as soon as the engines on the helicopter fell silent and as Sarah hit the button to lower the rear ramp, “and send the first squad out to sweep the area. The rest of our force will take up defensive positions until the patrol comes back.”

Dunbar just nodded his head and gave the order. A moment later I was outside and on the ground, sweeping the area with my binoculars as people jumped to it and got to work, according to my orders.

I was impressed by where Lottie had put us down. The land to the south was free of snow and from the look of it; it had been free of snow for weeks. The ground where we were was dry and the meadow already had a lush blanket of new grass growing across it. The air was reasonably warm and the sky was clear. I could even hear the sound of bird calls coming from the woods.

‘Bird sounds?’ I wondered to myself suddenly, looking about as I did. That didn’t make sense. We’d just buzzed the area with a helicopter. There should not be any birds chirping, not for miles around!

“We’ve got company,” I called out over my throat mic as I reached for my binoculars and I brought them to my eyes. “Hold the patrol and wait. They’re somewhere in the woods to our north.”