The Plains of Pluto - Chapter 19

Eastern Germania

Ky frowned as he read over the latest reports from the observation balloons. While he had been pleased that they finally had good weather for the balloons to operate continuously for the past two weeks, and the news they had been getting back was not what Ky would have wanted.

It hadn’t stood out at first, because they were being slow and cautious about it, but it seemed clear now that the enemy was reducing the size of their force all along their line. While that might be a cause for celebration, suggesting they were losing men faster than they could replace them or being forced to reinforce faltering sections of the line from this one, Ky’s instincts told him that wasn’t the reason. There was a deliberate pattern in which men the enemy was pulling from their line and when they did it that suggested they were being driven by something other than desperation.

“You’re seeing this too, right?” Ky subvocalized.

“Yes, commander. The troop movements are not a repositioning along this section of the front, most likely for a change in strategy.”

“To what?”

“There is not enough data currently available to simulate what their desired offensive strategy might be.”

“Then guess. Use the other intel we got and run calculations on possible options, even if they are inside the margin of error. Include negative data into the calculations. Let’s look at what they’re not doing.”

As the AI began its calculations, Ky continued to study the maps. The balloon reconnaissance had proven its worth, clearly showing they could see the ebb and flow of enemy movements.

Of all the things the enemy had yet to copy from them, Ky was surprised they were not flying balloons of their own yet.

Ky’s thoughts were derailed as Sophus began displaying the results of its findings, running various scenarios across his vision. While Sophus was right, they didn’t have the data to prove any of these true, Ky thought some of the data suggested more than what it showed on the face of it. He was fairly certain his gut feeling was right, but seeing what wasn’t there was not the forte of an artificial intelligence, and Ky wanted a second opinion on it before he decided to take action.

“Find General Bomilcar and bring him here,” Ky ordered the guard stationed outside his tent.

As he waited, Ky went over the data again, and then a third time. Sophus wouldn’t commit to agreeing, but everything he saw kept giving him the same conclusion.

A few minutes later, the tent flap pushed open and Bomilcar entered. “You sent for me?”

Ky nodded, gesturing for Bomilcar to join him at the map table.

“I need your assessment of these latest reports,” Ky said, handing them to the general. “The enemy has thinned their forces in these sectors. What do you make of it?”

Bomilcar flipped through the pages and few hand-drawn maps. “It would say they’re redeploying. Maybe moving these men to another position on the front.”

“Do you think they’re contemplating a strategy change?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. They are still making regular attacks along our line, which suggests they’re still committed to this front.”

“I’m not so sure. I think they’re willing to kill their people in order to make it look like they’re committed, without any real goal of actual breakthroughs. The scale of the attacks has been much smaller recently and usually only last a wave or two before they give up.”

“They do seem to involve fewer men than before,” Bomilcar admitted.

“I can’t help but think they’re diversions. They’re meant to keep our attention fixed here while they prepare for something more significant elsewhere.”

“With respect, Consul, couldn’t this simply be the result of battlefield attrition? They’ve suffered some very heavy losses in the past few months. Perhaps they’re struggling to maintain their previous force levels.”

“I’ve considered that, but I’m not so sure.”

“Okay, so if they are redistributing, where do you think they’re going to focus their men? I know we’ve had increased activity to the north with multiple attempted river crossings.”

“It’s possible,” Ky said, although he couldn’t keep the doubt out of his voice.

“If they are planning something, I’m not sure we’ll know until they launch their attack. We haven’t gotten much from the few prisoner interrogations we’ve gotten so far. The information has been... inconsistent. It’s difficult to separate fact from misinformation.”

“Which might be because the only prisoners we’ve managed to interrogate are proxies pressed into service. We haven’t been able to communicate effectively with any actual Easterners yet. As for the northern incursions, while concerning, they lack the coordination and force that would indicate preparations for a major offensive. These attacks involve forces of only a few thousand men at most. They’re not serious attempts to break through our lines. They’re diversions, meant to keep us occupied and guessing.”

“So if not there, then where?”

“Have you read Modius’s reports from Greece?” Ky asked in an apparent non-sequitur.

“I have,” Bomilcar said, a little confused, clearly wondering where Ky was going with this. “They detail sporadic skirmishes, but nothing that suggests a major threat. The region has been relatively quiet.”

“That’s exactly what concerns me. This silence, combined with the timing of these increased attacks along our position and to the north, it doesn’t feel coincidental.”

“With respect, Consul, you may be reading too much into this. I still think the most likely explanation is that the enemy is simply conserving their strength.”

“If conservation was their goal, they wouldn’t waste men on these probing attacks. Why continue to sacrifice troops unless they’re trying to fix our attention in place?”

“They haven’t shown a lot of care for their men’s lives so far.”

“Or it’s to keep us from reinforcing other sections. There’s also something else that’s been nagging at me. When was the last time we encountered any Egyptian or Greek forces among their troops?”

“For the Greeks, not for several weeks, at least. I’m not sure we’ve ever seen an Egyptian among them.”

“Because they’re being held in reserve. The enemy is gathering their forces for something significant. No, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Greece is their new target.”

“That sounds a lot like speculation.”

“It is, but it’s the logical move. Greece provides access to the Middle Sea and if they can secure it, our line will have to bend all the way around to Italia, extending us even further and allowing them to attack Germania from the east and the south.”

“Even if you’re right, we can’t afford to weaken our position here based on suspicion alone.”

“It’s a risk, I agree, but if I’m right, we can’t afford to be caught out, or this whole front crumbles and we’ll have to give up most of Eastern Germania. No, I’m convinced. I’m ordering a partial redeployment. We’ll thin our defensive line here and move those troops south into Greece.”

“Consul, I can’t agree with this. If you’re wrong, we’ll have compromised our strongest defensive position for nothing. The enemy could be trying to bait exactly this kind of response.”

“The general’s concerns have merit,” Sophus interjected in Ky’s mind. “Historical data suggests defensive positions are typically more costly to retake than to maintain.”

“I understand the risk,” Ky said aloud, addressing both Bomilcar and Sophus. “But sometimes the greater danger lies in being too cautious.”

“At least let me send scouts further south before we commit to this. Maybe even a few probing attacks that direction. We could get confirmation of enemy movement within days.”

“Days we don’t have. The enemy has been methodical in their preparation. When they strike, it will be swift and with overwhelming force. No, I’m committed to this. In fact, I’ll lead the redeployment personally. I also want us to do most of our redeployment under the cover of night. I don’t want them to know we’re shifting.”

“You’re going to Greece?” Bomilcar’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes. You will stay here and maintain our defensive. Keep enough men to hold the trenches, and hopefully make the enemy think our entire force is still here. We’ll give them their own game.”

“And if they launch a major offensive here while you’re gone?”

“They won’t. They’ve committed too many resources, but still stay vigilant. I think it’s very likely they’ll continue their probing attacks to keep us occupied.”

“How many men will you take?”

“Three legions, including the Ninth. I know you don’t like this, but I am very certain of it. It’s the only thing that fits the facts we’re seeing.”

Bomilcar was clearly still not pleased, but he only nodded and said, “I’ll maintain our position here as ordered.”

“Good. You’re our most capable commanders, Bomilcar. That’s why I need you here. If I’m wrong about Greece, you’ll be our fallback position.”

“And if you’re right?”

“Then we’ll still have a chance to win this thing.”

***

Devnum

Hywel could only stare at the brass contraption Hortensius’s assistant had set on the workbench in front of him. It was a strange thing, a slender brass tube mounted on a stand with a small platform beneath the long neck-like thing, as if it was peering down at the platform.

“What did you call it again?”

The young man who had delivered it, who to his credit was well known as one of the manufacturer’s more intelligent assistants, said, “The Consul’s instructions called it a ‘microscope.’ We’ve had the base design for almost a year, but there were a lot of issues working with the glass masters on getting the new grinding technique right while not making the glass opaque. It has been a very difficult process. My master sent along these instructions.”

Hywel picked up the stack of pages the young man had sent with them and began looking over them. He was used to the handwriting by now and knew how the Consul organized his instructions. Considering he was leading an army in war, Hywel had no idea how the man ever found time to produce the sheer volume of documents he did, but it seemed as if every other written page in the empire had been produced by him.

“Fascinating,” he murmured after reading for a few minutes before setting the pages aside to examine the small glass rectangles that had been delivered alongside the main apparatus. “And these are the ‘slides’ mentioned in the notes?”

“Yes, sir. They’re for holding the samples you wish to examine.”

Hywel lifted one of the thin glass rectangles, holding it up to the light. The clarity was remarkable, far superior to even the newest window glass he’d seen produced. “The craftsmanship is exceptional.”

“I know. We had to develop an entirely new grinding technique for this, although my understanding is that it has additional uses beyond this project. Actually, getting it clear and maintaining a very specific curvature of the lens was the most challenging part. It had a tendency to deform badly.”

Hywel nodded absentmindedly as he returned his attention to the Consul’s notes. The concept was surprisingly simple, it was like the spyglasses but in reverse, allowing them to see things that were apparently too small to see with the naked eye.

“Very well,” Hywel said, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s see how this works.”

Hywel was often distracted by his work and was not the most tidy person in Devnum, at least in his personal workspaces. He reached for a small earthenware bowl that had been sitting on his workbench for several days, containing water that had grown cloudy with disuse. Following the Consul’s instructions precisely, Hywel put a tool in the water and let it drip a single drop of the water on the slide.

“Now, according to these notes, I place the droplet on one slide and then cover it with a second slide to flatten the sample.”

Carefully, he pressed the two pieces of glass together and set it on the small brass stage beneath the tube. He adjusted the height according to the specifications in the Consul’s notes and leaned forward to peer through the eyepiece.

“I see nothing but blur,” he said after a moment.

Checking the notes, he looked for and found a small knob on the side of the microscope, turning it slowly in the direction the diagram suggested.

“How precisely am I to … ah!”

Things started to clear up as he turned the knob. It was finicky though, requiring the smallest of moves to step it closer to clarity. When he finally got it to the point he wanted, his breath caught in his throat.

Abruptly, Hywel jerked back from the eyepiece, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision. He looked down at the slide with his naked eye, seeing nothing but a small water droplet sandwiched between glass. Then he leaned forward again, returning his eye to the lens.

“Cac na caorach!” he exclaimed in Caledonian. “This cannot be possible.”

“What?” the assistant asked eagerly.

“Tiny creatures. Living, moving creatures swimming through the water. They’re translucent, some round, others elongated. I count at least seven distinct types, moving independently of one another,” he said, adjusting the focus slightly. “Some appear to be pursuing others, like miniature predators hunting prey. They move with purpose, not randomly as one might expect from mere particles.”

“May I look, sir?”

Hywel reluctantly stepped aside, allowing the young man to observe the sample. The assistant’s reaction mirrored his own, initial confusion followed by startled amazement.

“They’re exactly as the Consul described, although until this moment I’d thought he’d been at least exaggerating, if not just saying things to convince us to do as he directed. No wonder he insists on boiling drinking water in the field.”

He tapped a particular paragraph in the notes. “The Consul suggests these invisible organisms might be responsible for the spreading illness at Port Caolros. He’s outlined a methodical process for testing infected bodily fluids against various treatments.”

“Will this help identify the cause of the outbreak?”

“Potentially. We’ve already eliminated several causes through conventional methods, but this new tool might help identify which of the remaining candidate pathogens is responsible.”

He turned toward the door and shouted, “Celsus! Come here!”

A moment later, one of Hywel’s medical assistants appeared, looking somewhat startled by the urgency in his master’s voice.

“I need blood samples from the quarantined patients recently transported from Port Caolros. Prepare them exactly as this young man will demonstrate. Ensure you follow the containment protocols I established, we cannot risk spreading whatever affliction these men carry.”

As Celsus departed with Hortensius’s assistant, Hywel returned to the microscope.

He reached for a small silver case containing his surgical tools and selected a thin, sharp needle. Following the instructions they’d been using for some time on preventing infection, he first cleansed his fingertip with alcohol, then carefully pricked the skin. A small bead of blood welled up, which he transferred to a clean slide before covering it with a second piece of glass.

Positioning his own blood sample under the microscope, Hywel adjusted the focus once more. What he saw matched precisely with the anatomical drawings the Consul had included, countless small disk-shaped cells packed tightly together.

“Remarkable,” he murmured.

The contrast between the water and blood samples was stunning. While the water contained distinct moving creatures, the blood presented as a field of uniform cells arranged in a consistent pattern. Hywel spent several minutes simply observing the regular arrangement of healthy blood cells, committing their appearance to memory.

He was so engrossed that the sound of the door opening as Celsus returned with Hortensius’s assistant caused him to jump. The pair were carrying several sealed glass vials containing blood samples from the quarantined patients.

“We’ve brought samples from three different patients, sir,” Celsus reported. “All exhibiting severe symptoms, high fever, difficulty breathing, and the distinctive skin discoloration you noted in your examination yesterday.”

“Excellent,” Hywel said, gesturing toward the workbench. “Prepare slides from each sample.”

Celsus nodded, carefully handling the vials with cloth-wrapped hands. Under Hywel’s supervision, he prepared three separate slides. It was slow, careful work, but with practice it would probably speed up.

Hywel placed the first slide under the microscope and leaned forward to examine it. Initially, the infected blood appeared similar to his own healthy sample, but he knew that wasn’t accurate. The notes had been very clear that there would almost certainly be a sign if the blood came from an infected person.

It took time, but after several minutes of staring at five or six samples, he finally noticed some differences. Some of the cells, the ones used for transporting air through the body that the Consul had previously described, looked slightly different than his own. They were distorted. Not the small circles in his sample, but instead elongated and misshapen.

The two assistants watched him, seemingly a little perplexed, but Hywel ignored them as he went back and forth from the Consul’s notes to the microscope and back, trying to reference what he was seeing against the illustrations.

“Here,” he said, tapping the page. “The Consul has documented this exact blood cell deformation. It’s characteristic of a specific illness transmitted by mosquito bites. The disease is prevalent in warm, humid regions with standing water, which does fit with what we’ve been told about Port Caolros. The mosquitoes breed in stagnant water and transmit the pathogen through their bites. The Consul’s notes specify a treatment using a plant called ‘sweet wormwood’ that grows in eastern Germania and northern Greece, among other places.”

Celsus leaned closer to examine the detailed botanical illustration. “I’m not familiar with this plant, sir.”

“Nor am I,” Hywel admitted, “but the Consul has provided detailed identification information and instructions for preparing an effective medication called Artemisinin from its leaves.”

Hywel quickly examined the remaining patient samples, confirming the same distinctive blood cell deformation in most, now that he knew what to look for. Satisfied with his diagnosis, he turned to his assistants.

“Celsus, I need you to draft immediate instructions to be sent to Port Caolros. They must implement mosquito control measures. Drain all standing water where possible, place netting over beds, and the like. The consul also mentioned some kind of salve that can be applied to the skin to repel the creatures. I will write to him and find out how we, or more likely Sorantius, can develop that. Speaking of, we also need to send a formal request to him, so he knows these plants are coming. Once we’ve managed to collect them, he’ll have to process it into this … Artemisinin, which is supposed to help the infected men.”

As Hortensius’s assistant was dismissed and his own began working on his assigned task, Hywel returned to the device. It was astounding.

He honestly couldn’t wait to put other things under its lenses and find out what the world had been hiding from him all these years.