Among all the shit I'd already gone through, you'd expect a crowd of illiterate woman and children wouldn't phase me much. I guess, in a way, this was true. Their clothes were filthy. The simple rags never would have been exceptionally nice, but from how the cloth had thinned and frayed they seemed overdue for replacement. From the stench, I could tell they hadn't been let out of their cage during the journey.
Even if the lot had been freshly showered and clad in new clothing, I doubt I would have found them very impressive. Their shoulders were perpetually slumped, their heads seeming to rest on their neck instead of being held by them. Excluding Alessia, each one averted their gaze when I met them, which their eyes darting to the side or under their unkempt hair. I also towered over the lot of them. I had an average stature, so being taller then someone wasn't news to me, but never has it seemed to decisive. Maybe it was their posture.
That being said, while ordering this lot to do any sort of labor seemed cruel, I really needed to get them on my side. I couldn't tell them the whole truth. Even if they somehow believed the me, I didn't have enough time to explain everything, and quite a few questions myself I'm sure they'd ask.
I couldn't tell a full lie, or at least I didn't trust myself to. Sure, I could winning them over may be easier, but I'd have to work with them afterwards and I wanted to juggle as few inconsistencies as possible.
As almost always, a little bit of both seemed like the best option.
"My full name is Eric Bowman, Commander, Global Defense Initiative."
That's lie number one. While my body seemed to have the modifications I'd expect from a 2047, if everything but memories actually came from the tiberium universe (a statement which never should have required consideration), I was far too young to be anything but a second lieutenant. Maybe EVA trumped me a ridiculous number of grades before I woke up, or perhaps Commander wasn't a real rank in the tiberium universe, like how it wasn't in the army. I was certainly wearing an officer's uniform, and if a second lieutenant was the highest ranking officer on the planet, then I guess he was technically in command, wasn't he?
I'm digressing.
"Okay. Before I continue, I'm going to have to attend to that…" I pointed at the conyard "…every once in a while. While I'm gone, see if you can come up with any questions for me, and I'll try and answer them when I get back." I waited for some sort of response, like a nod or a murmur of affirmation, but my audience remained quiet.
"As you may have guessed, I am not from this land." I took a step backwards to point towards the Conyard. "Neither is this. Follow me." With a wave, I turned from the group and set a leisurely pace for the structure. The rustling of grass behind me was enough to convince me to continue.
"This is a construction yard. Inside, one of the most complicated machines in the world builds, uhhh, more buildings." I paused, although not for theatrics. I clearly hadn't planned this briefing as well as I thought. The amount of information I had to cover was overwhelming.
"You may be wondering how such a thing is possible. I'll try and explain." I stopped and turned again, to find the mass had been, at least physically, following me. "I don't know what you all know about magic, sorcery, or witchcraft, but I can guarantee there is nothing supernatural here." At least, not anymore. I had to get to where I was somehow, and while there were some explanations based in my understanding of science, I couldn't rule out any possibility in this scenario.
Taking another breath, I pointed towards the stubby tower at the back of the conyard. "Around there is what we call a generator. They harvest energy, like that of fire, wind or the sun, and make electricity." I turned around looking back at the group. "You folks know of lightning?"
"Yes." Alessia's reply was accompanied by a few nods.
"Alright. That's how electricity occurs in nature. The electricity provided by the generator is a lot weaker and easier to control, and is used to run the building's lights and its construction equipment. This takes the material I've stored under the building, refines it, forges it, cuts it, and assembles it into a machine that can deploy- er, turn into a building."
The hand dropped, and I found myself staring at the group. I don't know why, but what I'd planned to mention had taken a long longer in my head. I knew there was a lot more to say, but right now, my mind was drawing a blank. Thankfully the peasants remained a captive audience while I gathered my thoughts.
"All of this was created by people. Humans, like you and me. It took dozens of generations of work, with each person improving on their predecessors tools, to get something this advanced, but now that it's here? We have everything we need to build a town here."
There was no response from my audience, but I'd come to expect it at this point.
"Alright, I'll be gone for a few minutes, but I'll be back. Talk amongst yourselves and think of some questions in the meantime. There's a lot more you need to know, but if I talk all day I doubt you'll learn much."
With that, I turned from the group and retreated towards the Conyard. Why weren't they asking any questions? I could think of several reasons, sure, but the group in front of me was so alien that it could be none or any number of them. The HUD flickered to life before me, and I took another note of the barracks' progress. Sure enough, production had stalled and the first crate was waiting for me when I arrived at the building.
As I started the forklift, my mind continued to race with questions. Did I scare them? I had killed three people rather quickly, and I while I don't think Alessia had shared any specifics about her ordeal, she had been gone for a while. The worry from her several hours' absence certainly lingered.
I set the crate down only 30 meters from the Conyard, throwing the forklift into reverse and giving it plenty of room. Maybe it was societal. I never said I was a noble, but considering my clean clothing and upright posture, it wouldn't be an unreasonable assumption. I was no expert on the intricacies of medieval culture, but if they did think I was upper-class than questioning me probably ran severely against their culture.
Not sure what to do about that.
I felt tension building along my spine as I approached the construction module. It looked as inert as any other crate I'd seen, but I knew that it was going to crack open like some cybernetic mimic once I'd activated it. Following EVA's instructions, I checked every release wasn't obstructed, armed the crate, slammed the deployment lever into the on position, and high-tailed it to the forklift. Thoughts of the peasants were lost as I braced for the box to spring open. The thought that my guests would see this had barely registered by the time the crate's sides flew open.
...It isn't nearly as impressive from a safe distance. The tall grass concealed the drones as they skittered to their posts, and while the process created a billowing tower of dust actual clumps of dirt didn't seem to rise far above my head.
That didn't mean I left the safety of the forklift, though.
The pillar of dust had nearly dispersed by the time my forklift had reached the villagers. The group I approached was significantly more active then I'd left, but as the forklift drew nearer the peasant's animated gesturing disappeared and a collection of eyes focused on me. The group seemed to huddle together, before they collectively started to backpedal.
Ah, right. It might be over 50 meters away, but a giant machine was still heading straight for them.
I made a point to direct the forklift away from the villagers, before shutting down the vehicle and walking the remaining distance.
"Sorry for the delay back there." I shouted, approaching the group. "I'm sure you have questions." A good part of me wanted to apologize for scaring them as well, but every apology I could think of fell flat in my mind.
Of course, the expected silence ensued, but only for a moment.
"That voice. In the Construction Yard."
I froze, my eyes settling on Alessia.
"You heard EVA in the Conyard?"
"Yes." Her stare was just as sharp as her tone.
Crap. The majority of the things the Conyard did were entirely alien to them, but expecting them to even comprehend artificial intelligence was unrealistic, to put it lightly.
Still, my little survival scheme didn't leave me much room for lying. Time to see how good I was at summarizing.
"Well…" My mind raced. "...It's complicated. Simply put, it's possible to build a machine so complex that it can talk." I assumed my audience was fairly credulous, but judging by the expression on Alessia's face I hadn't sold it yet. "Let me be clear: EVA isn't smart like we are. It only acts in response to something. It doesn't have emotions, abstract thought, or self-awareness like we do." They wouldn't understand what I was saying, but at this point I hoped sounding impressive would be good enough. By the time I finished the sentence, it wasn't difficult to tell I'd lost the attention of the majority of the group.
"When you left, you produced a massive dust cloud earlier. What was that?"
It was Alessia's dark-haired companion, this time. Thankful for the much easier question, I responded as best I could, stated that I'd used machines to create a foundation for a building, and so on. Another question popped up about the forklift itself, but beyond that?
The sound of the wind in the grass covered whatever noise drifted from the conyard, leaving nothing to mask the silence that fell upon our group. I bit my lip in frustration. Of course this was going to happen. Besides the reasons I'd stated earlier, me and the conyard were so outside-context that they didn't really have a reference for good questions. They had to be overwhelmed.
"Okay… I think you might need more time to mull this over." I didn't know what else I could do, but our little talk hadn't been as productive as I hoped. "I'll be back near the conyard if any you think of anything."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and jogged away. That situation was getting awkward too quickly. My exit may not have been exactly graceful, but right now lingering with the group might be doing more harm than good. I didn't want to tell them about tiberium without some sort of proof. Even though I wasn't sure I needed it.
Speaking of which…
As the forklift once again lurched into motion, the drone I'd sent hadn't reached Koka castle yet, but it was well into the developing red zone. As I returned to the conyard, the drone's feed flickered to life.
If I could whistle, I certainly would have. The memory of escaping the transforming forest lingered in my mind, but between several more hours and a change in perspective things looked entirely different.
Even at this altitude, the field dominated the drone's vision. Millions of crystals, each a grain of sand, sparkled and danced under the drone as sunlight was reflected and refracted back into the camera. This must have been grassland like where I stood, because the field was unmarred by the corpses of trees. What had become of the grass itself was impossible to tell at this distance.
The drone's camera pivoted, bringing the horizon- and my little friend's objective- into view. The towers of a fortress, yanked straight out of a disney movie and nestled inside a small town, stood defiant atop a gentle, rolling hill. The urban area itself was sheltered in another layer of walls, the thick stone a clear barrier between where the city ended and the wilderness began.
It must have been pretty, once.
Now, the waves of grass it had disappeared. The same crystalline hellscape that dominated the impact zone had consumed it. It might have been atmospheric distortions, but the stout turrets and spattering of roofs seems discolored, somehow.
If the tiberium infection was all that seemed wrong with Koka, I probably wouldn't have stopped the forklift. However, as I continued to inspect the town, new issues continued to pop up.
Where was the farmland? Sure, the tiberium was pretty effective at making a landscape unrecognizable, but you'd think the changes in soil density and composition from farming would change how the crystal grew. The four roads that snaked away in the compass directions were certainly visible despite the alien intruder. There didn't seem to be any sort of hovels a peasant family could live in, either. The only civilization seemed to be concentrated inside the walls of the city.
Speaking of which, the protected area didn't seem right at all. I was familiar with how war-torn cities looked from both the news and history. Even from this distance, some of the telltale signs were there. The uneven smattering of roofs seemed to drop away at irregular places, while uneven gaps in the urban landscape were decorated in a random smattering of earth tones instead the color you'd expect from a park or garden. The walls seemed as firm as ever, though, and besides the tiberium the castle looked as picturesque as ever.
Once again, I found myself biting my lip. I initially thought the existential threat of tiberium far surpassed any local issues this lang might have, but something about Koka was rubbing me the wrong way. It seemed like, the next time the peasants and I met, I would be the one questioning them.
