The Weapon - Exodus - part 7
By Diana the Valkyrie
The trebuchet


I talked with Lan Ho. "Now they'll send out a big force," he said, "but we
have guns." "Yes, twelve of them," I replied, "and not a great deal of ammo,
either. I reckon there's eighty or a hundred men at that barracks." The light
went out of Lan Ho's eyes. "We better start digging defences," he said. "No,"
I replied. We're outnumbered too badly for that." "We can't surrender, they'll
kill every one of us." "No. We can't defend, and we can't surrender. So we
attack!" "What?" "We attack, very soon. We attack their barracks, while they
aren't expecting it, they won't know what's hitting them." "Sir, have you seen
that barracks? It's a fort. Heavy timber walls, slit windows - it's made for
defence. We'd be slaughtered before we even got close." "We won't get close,"
I replied, "we hit them with artillery, and we just keep on hitting them until
they give up." "We don't have any artillery," he replied. "Yes we do," I
answered, "we've got her."

She looked at me, and said softly, "George, can we have a little strategy
meeting here?" "Sure, Wendy, what's the matter." "Uh," she said, put her arms
round me and flew me up out of earshot. "George, I really don't like the idea
of being artillery."

Oh no! "Wendy, I asked you before if you were up for this, and you said you
were." "I know." "Well?" "Can't a girl change her mind?" "You aren't a girl,"
I said, brutally, "you're a weapon, you're The Weapon, and you aren't supposed
to have opinions about where you get used, I command, you obey, remember the
oath?" "George, you want me to drop rocks and stuff on these people, it'll
kill them." "That's what weapons do, Wendy." She looked at me for a while.
"Wendy?" She sighed. "George, I know." "So what, is the oath just words, or
does it mean what it says." She sighed again. "It isn't just words," she
whispered. "So you'll do it?" I pressed her for a commitment. "I'll do it,"
she whispered. Then she deployed one of her most powerful weapons on me, and I
watched it trickle down her cheek.

Then I watched another tear form and trickle down her other cheek, and, like
any other good weapon, it was hurting me, hurting badly. And I couldn't see
any way out, so I surrendered. "OK, Wendy, you win. I won't command you to be
our artillery. But in return for that, I'll want you to be our bulldozer." She
stopped crying. "Bulldozers 'r' us," she said, brightly. "Show me what you
want dozed, and I'll bull it." God save Ireland, I thought. "And our
blacksmith," I added, "and our lumberjack." Because I'd just thought up an
alternative plan. We still needed artillery, and if Wendy wasn't it, then I'd
have to make something to do the job.

When you're going to attack a force that outnumbers you and is forted up, the
only sensible strategy is to dig in near their fort, and persuade them to come
out into the open and attack you. To do that, you have to make their fort
untenable, and that's why I needed artillery.

First, I told Wendy about the timber requirements. I needed a major piece of
tree, eighty feet long, one foot diameter at the small end. Plus a whole bunch
more lumber, for the frame. I told her to get the details from Duncan, he'd
know the exact plans. "What do I tell him we're making?" "Artillery, Wendy.
Tell him we're making a Warwolf." I also explained about the ironmongery I
needed, and she flew off to find a good hardwood tree.

Next, I needed to explain the plan to Lan Ho, because it would take
significant manpower, and we'd need people to shoot the AK47s. That meant he'd
have to show them how to use them, at least well enough for one battle. I was
hoping we wouldn't actually have to fire them, but it's best to be prepared.

As I drew a battle plan in the dirt, Lan Ho started to smile. "You know, sir,
for the first time since I met you, I'm starting to think that we might
actually survive this thing." I didn't mention the thoughts I was having about
what we'd need after winning this battle, things were quite desperate enough
already. I explained - earth berms here and here, trenches here, Wendy would
do the main earthmoving and digging, they'd tidy up and refine what she dug.
Because my plan was to arrive in position just after sunset, spend the night
getting dug in and ready, and launch the attack at dawn. That gave us no more
than a few hours to get ready, but it gave the bandits no time at all, we'd be
on them before they even realised that the squad they'd sent out wasn't coming
back. And although strategically, we were on the attack, my tactics were to
fight a defensive battle and cut them down as they came to us.

Lan Ho said "We'll put the guns on single shot, make every bullet count. We've
got enough ammo to wipe them out if they're out in the open and we're dug in."
I agreed.

Within a few hours, Wendy came back with the timber I'd asked her for, all cut
and shaped to size. She'd also made the trigger and the pivot pin. The light
was beginning to fade, so I told Lan Ho to start marching for the barracks,
I'd meet him a mile south of there. Wendy picked up the huge timbers and flew
with them to the site I'd picked, then returned and took me there. I showed
her where to pile up the earth to create defensive barriers, where to dig the
trenches to protect the infantry, and then she helped with the heavy lifting
as we started to assemble our artillery. When we were nearly ready, I sent her
out to gather 400 pound boulders for us to use.

When the sun came up the next day, we were all ready. The pile of timber was
now assembled together into a mighty trebuchet, the most powerful type of
medieval catapult, capable of hurling 400 pound missiles for over a mile. We
used a fixed design; wheels would have complicated matters. For a
counterweight, we used a large basket of sand, and to cock the arm and get it
ready to fire, we had our female flying bulldozer. The earth berms would
protect the trebuchet from flat-trajectory missiles fired from the barracks,
while the trebuchet hurled its missiles high into the air, to land on the roof
of the barracks. "I'm impressed," said Wendy. "Hit the soft parts with your
fist, hit the hard parts with a hammer," I replied, "and this is my hammer."

At first, we fired 400 pound rocks, in order to get the range and break the
roof of the building. They fired back at us, using armour-piercing RPGs and
recoilless rifles. But their missiles just plunged into our earth berm without
making the slightest difference, and exploded inside the huge ridge of earth
that Wendy had thrown up.

Once we were getting consistent hits, we changed the payload to the 45 gallon
gasoline drum which I'd spotted on the previous reconnaissance, that they had
helpfully (and with safety in mind) left a few hundred yards from the
barracks. We dropped that on top of the barracks, and then I sent Wendy in to
negotiate. I fully expected that they would surrender, since they were in a
hopeless situation. All it needed was a firepot to land on the barracks, set
fire to all that gasoline sloshing around, and the bandits goose would be
cooked.

I was glad I hadn't gone myself. Wendy stopped fifty yards from the barracks,
and called out to them to surrender, throw down their weapons and they'd be
well treated. But I guess there was at least one person there stupid enough to
run for Prime Minister, because he took a shot at Wendy. The bullets rattled
out; most of them missed her, and the ones that hit didn't do any significant
damage. But the muzzle flash ignited the gasoline vapour, and the whole
barracks exploded in a huge fireball. Whoof! Some people are just too dumb to
know when to be scared.

After the flames died down, our people went in with their sticks and stones.
Any bandit who wasn't roasted, was killed. To these people, war was not a
game, there were no rules. Prisoners? Tell that to people who've been watching
their children slowly die of starvation.

In the buildings near the barracks, we found supplies. Guns, ammunition. And
food. The food was the most important thing, for the villagers. This would
help them get through the coming winter. But the guns and ammo might be
important.

I checked through what was there, Lan Ho beside me. Wendy was helping to carry
the food back to the village. And Lan Ho talked to me. "Sir," he said, "this
is a very great victory, and I am, at last, no longer ashamed. We have fought
back, we no longer bend the knee to the oppressors. I thank you greatly for
this." "It isn't over yet," I said, grimly, "that was just the second round."
Lan Ho nodded, sadly. "There are other bandits," he said, "and it won't be so
easy next time, without the Ghost Woman." "Lan Ho, you must visit the other
villages in the area, one stick is easily broken but if ten are bound together
..." "I know this, sir. We farmers must unite against the predators, we will
need to create an army, we will need to fight for our children. It will be a
long hard struggle, a struggle without an end, but we will win, we must win.
We won before against great odds, we can win again." "Before?" "A long long
time ago," said Lan Ho.

"Yes," I said. I could see a way out of this mess, but I didn't know if it
would work, and I wanted Lan Ho to prepare for more fighting, if need be.
"Prepare for war, hope for peace," I said to him. "I shall pray to your Ghost
Woman that she may bring peace." I had roughly the same idea that my Ghost
Woman might be able to bring something off, except that I had something a bit
more practical in mind than prayer.

That afternoon, we said goodbye to Lan Ho, and to the villagers. Wendy gave
baby Kippy one last cuddle and kissed the mother goodbye. She wrapped her cape
around me, held me in her arms, and we rose slowly into the air, waving
goodbye to the people on the ground, who stared up at us and cheered.