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dream.20080325: war from the west

by Rob Friesel

The attack is coming from the West.  An invasion, a violent mass of men and machinery moving across the land, opposite the sun’s path.  My commander sends me ahead to warn the next installation.  The forts must all be warned.  The invasion force is striking so quickly.  They are knocking out communications before anything else.  Anything to cripple us, to silence us.  The base commander knows that they are doomed but if they can only slow the invaders enough to allow me safe passage.

When I arrive at the base, they don’t believe me.  They treat me with disdain.  An invasion? (they say) That’s preposterous!  I am shuffled to the side, I am asked to wait, I am detained and delayed and dismissed.  Still, there is an undercurrent of nervousness.  They wonder if there isn’t perhaps some kernel of truth to my story.  They cannot raise my home base on the radio.  Or by phone.  Or by any other means.  The base commander doesn’t want to trust me, he doesn’t want to believe me, but there is an unrest among the rank-and-file that is difficult to deny.

When the sky starts to blacken with smoke and when the thunder of explosions in the distant west starts to pound our ears, they finally heed my warning.  Guns are passed out, armor is donned, formations are made around the gate.  That commander still does not want to believe me, his lip still turns over into a sneer when he lays eyes on me.  But just the same he thrusts a weapon into my hands and tells me to bolster the line.  But to do what I’m told.  And as the explosions creep closer, we wait and try to keep the panic at bay.

About Rob Friesel

Software engineer by day, science fiction writer by night; weekend homebrewer. Author of The PhantomJS Cookbook and a short story in Please Do Not Remove. View all posts by Rob Friesel →

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