Serial
124: Losha’s WOLFPACK
July 2nd, 48 S.D. 09:25 Sieg Lowlands, Central Plains
“My goodness, hon, that sure is a heckuva tale...” Brigitte said over the radio. “I still can’t believe Sventa’d treat you like that, ‘specially after all you did for’em.”
As Losha, Virel, and the rest of the Shansala moved across the plains, Brigitte had been communicating with them from Talostol. Between her and the Wolf, there was a great deal of catching up to do. In the past, they had been but brief acquaintances, yet their chance meeting had forever changed the land and their lives. It seemed destiny had drawn their paths together again, and now they would become closer than ever before. They’d been swapping stories back and forth, something that made the long hours of travel a bit more enjoyable. The Shansala were practically a fleet of wagons and horses, but moving an entire village was neither fast nor exciting business, so talking livened up the mood.
“It is no matter,” Losha replied. “Though it yet pains me to dwell upon the Tabran’s treachery, that is the past. This is the present, and we must make our way forward.”
“You really are the hero everyone says you are,” Brigitte commented with a laugh. “Jus’ the way you talk and all.”
“Brigitte, I am not a hero,” Losha protested.
“Then what do you call yourself, hon?”
“Just a serialist.”
“The damned best, I tell you. Shame you never let us see what you could do while we were together.”
“Alright, enough about me. I just told everything about the war, my split with Sventa, and all the years after that. I would like to hear more concerning your life. I know you and Stephen married around the time the fighting stopped. I know you have a kid and a ranch out in Zevano. And I have heard dozens of your little western escapades, but that still leaves a lot of blanks. Fill me in. What exactly happened to you guys after we last saw each other? And how did you end up in my school?”
“Aw, shucks. Guess I got so wound up hearin’ your side of things, I forgot to let you in on all the little details with me,” Brigitte said. “Well, you better get comfortable on your horse ‘cause you’re gonna be sittin’ there for a spell. Lemme see. After we left you in Sventa, Steve, Barv, and I all went back east. We were still workin’ for the Haus Tradin’ Company, so we had to report our sales. We made a lot of money outta them guns. They weren’t bein’ mass produced for the Central Plains, but when they saw there was a market in all these fightin’ clans, they got real happy, for all the wrong reasons mind you. That was it for me, though. By that time, I figured out how tough the Central Plains really were. Guns like that in everyone’s hands... Bad enough Gandia’s already like that, but to see y’all over here doin’ the same... I wouldn’t have no more part in all that bloodlettin’. The company wanted me to go back and sell more. I said no way was I gonna be some sort of arms dealer, makin’ a livin’ helpin’ people killin’...”
“So, I quit. Lost my job and saved my soul. Decided to go back out west. I’m Gandian, but born and raised on the other side of this here Continent, right in Zevano. I’m a dusty cowgirl at heart. Barv quit too, went back to his family’s brewery. And Steve, well, you know he couldn’t leave me alone. About a year later, we hitched together and I took him to my old ranch. We been there ever since. He ain’t much the type for livin’ out there; never had a thing for horses. Guess that’s why he started gettin’ into radios. Steve’s become a bit of a techie really; sure rubbed off hard on me too.”
“So, explain to me more about this business you and he started.”
“Well, it’s jus’ like I told you, Losha. Radios are the hot new thing all over Gandia. Happened around the time of the Great War when Gandian nations got all riled and fussy amongst themselves. New tech for the battlefield; no more runners or messengers, no more telegrams, jus’ make a call anywhere and any time. Go forward a few years, people, civilians, you know, get their hands on it, and overnight, people are clamoring for it themselves. Radio stations are born, and with the new economic upturn runnin’ the past decade, everyone can afford their own set.”
“Radio stations?” Losha asked. “What are those?”
“Jus’ a place where they constantly broadcast stuff: news, weather, sports, music, talk shows, and anythin’ else you want to listen to. So there Steve was, dabblin’ with all of this when he gets the real shrewd idea to make a job out of it. Well, he’s a pretty darn bright fella - wouldn’t have married him otherwise - so he got things sorted out nice and quick. So now we raise horses, but we also fix radios, make radios, sell’em, trade’em, upgrade’em, whatever. The east and north ain’t real competitive; too many big companies or monopolies even. But to the far west, it’s a wild market, perfect climate to start up in. ‘Course, nobody does it as good as we do, so we made a name for ourselves. Schmidt Electronics, yes siree!”
“I suppose the Central Plains will be the next region to adopt this technology, though even now we have no phones or trains or much electricity here,” Losha said. “We are notably behind the times.”
“Aw, that’ll change once your art takes off. Ain’t nothin’ in the world like serialization. Anyway, y’all are our first customers in these here parts, and the first folks to experience radios out here.”
“So this is why Denze arranged for you to come to Talostol. He thinks we will need this in order to accomplish our goals.”
“I can’t speak nothin’ for him, hon. He jus’ gets a hold of me all outta the blue and offered me and Steve a real nice job. Steve and my boy gotta take care of the ranch, so it’s just me out here with y’all. Anyway, I got y’all situated with your own tower here, strong enough to transmit a signal clear across the Continent if you push it. I don’t know exactly what’s goin’ on, but I’m contracted to be your operator. Seems like things are busy here. Don’t worry yourself though, my Asten is pretty good, so I can speak your native language jus’ fine, unlike the last time we met.”
“So, not even you know what Denze has planned?” Losha asked.
“Nope, not one bit, Losha. I understand the basics of what’s eatin’ y’all, these pesky Zeroes... Don’t like the sound of them myself. Denze said he’d tell us both more details, ‘course you’d have to come back first.”
“Well, we are about three hours out. We should see you by 1 ‘o’ clock at the latest.”
“Roger that, Wolf. Listen, I gotta do some fixin’ and fussin’ with this here equipment for a while. Fine tunin’ and whatnot. We’ll be offline ‘till then. See you soon, over and out.”
In the time that Losha had been gone, a large, pointed spire of metal had risen beside Talostol. It soared up at least 100 meters into the air, standing tall above the flat lands. Tight, steel cables ran from its peak to the ground, keeping it stable and upright. The massive structure had two lights at the top, a red one and a white one that slowly alternated. A series of thick cords slithered down the side and eventually hooked into a new building at the base. Even a few kilometers away, Losha could clearly see the impressive additions Denze had ordered.
She frowned to herself, thinking how Denze had done quite a lot of work behind her back. However, she did not blame his actions; she’d pushed him to take these measures, in a way. Had she been firmer about what course they’d take to defeat the Zeroes, had she involved the others in her plans, perhaps she’d have known and agreed to this. Although, Denze wasn’t the only one making choices without consulting anyone else; Losha had brought the Shansala to Talostol, after all. At any rate, she shook her head. They could not take back the tower now, and she was optimistic that this new technology would prove useful.
“Wow,” Faima whistled. “Looks amazing even over here.” She’d been waiting for them at the final stretch of their travels and now moved along with the group.
“Did you all really put it up in a week?” Virel wondered.
“Ksh, with serialization, it was nothing,” Faima said. “It made a nice project for the veteran students. You know, it really shows them practical applications for their art.”
“Indeed,” Losha agreed. “Serialization can be used to achieve almost any end. It is good that they see what kinds of things it can truly bring about. How has the school been doing in my absence?”
“Everything is under control, except Mesel and I have been pulling double duty teaching. With both you and Virel gone, and Denze focused on putting everything together, the past few days have been hectic. Though, even with all the construction, we have not skipped a single beat.”
“Very good. What precisely does Denze want to talk about?”
“What we should have talked about before you left. It took you a while, but you finally seem open to letting us face the Zeroes together. I guess we also need an update on your latest adventures. You have not said a word about what happened on your trip, but I can tell it was not boring,” Faima laughed.
“It certainly was eventful,” Losha said. “And informative.”
“Hmm...” Faima hummed. “Is that so? Well, save it for the meeting Losh.”
They continued riding until they came up to the very perimeter of Talostol. By that time, most of the school had abandoned their studies and gathered outside, watching Losha approach with hundreds of Shansala behind her. Idling by the fences, the budding serialists waited, talking and shuffling excitedly amongst themselves. Losha rode in front of the Shansala, walking side-to-side as she swept her arm out towards the school and the surrounding area.
“Shansala, my friends, this is Talostol. Welcome to our home, and welcome to yours. From this moment onward, we shall be neighbors. There is plenty of land for us all. Let us share this peaceful place together.”
As if on cue, her students waved and called out, a show of warmth to the Sieg Lowland’s latest residents. Losha paused before Riva as the other nodded.
“Thank you, Losha. Your kindness is too much for words. We will cherish this new life of ours. May I ask where may we settle?”
“Wherever, I suppose.. Anywhere is fine. It is not as if we own the place. Pick a spot, and it will do.”
“Some of the older students will help you get yourselves together,” Faima said. “Losha, we have to go see Denze. You too, kid.”
“I am not a child anymore,” Virel frowned.
“Ah, you still act like one sometimes. Now, we should not keep Denze waiting. Sa, speaking of him...”
Making his way through the edge of Talostol, Denze walked up to the rest of them.
“Welcome back, Losha. I see you brought us a number of new friends. I am sure there is a story to all of this, but it can wait until we have a chance to talk. From now on, let us use the building next to the radio tower as our new meeting place. I think it would be best if these matters were kept separate from the school, both physically and symbolically. You will find me there once the horses are stabled. I am sure Izel is glad to return.”
Losha’s steed gave a short neigh, as if acknowledging the statement. Denze turned around and headed to the recently built structure beside the tower. After a few minutes, Losha, Virel, and Faima followed suit. Upon entering, the Wolf was greeted by a large room made narrow by rows of electronic equipment. Pressed to either side were racks of various metal boxes exposing an array of blinking lights, open sockets and ports, and a veritable jungle of cords criss-crossing and connecting components. A strange static-like hum filled this space, as if she could hear the machine itself at work. For all the clutter, the desk near the window sat perfectly clear save for a single microphone.
“A bit crowded, but Brigitte said this was best. She can access all the controls without moving too much. The boardroom is upstairs,” Faima explained.
“Boardroom?” Losha echoed curiously. She felt three seras frequencies up there belonging to Denze, Mesel, and Brigitte.
“You will see,” was all she got out of Faima.
“How does all of this run? Where is the electricity coming from?”
“I am not sure about all of the specifics, but we have modified the power supply slightly. Instead of using a generator, we simply charge it directly using serialization. You would be surprised how much electricity you can get out of a small amount of seras. Brigitte and Mesel know more about that though. Ask them later.”
They exited the control room and found a set of stairs that doubled back. Here, the trio stepped into a wide room. In the center was a large, square table, and behind that were two, long poster boards fitted side-by-side. Pinned up were maps of the Central Plains and several detailed charts and notes. She eyed this for a time before realizing the walls had numerous scraps of information put up as well. The boards, however, were evidently the most important. Immediately, the other three turned around in their seats to look at Losha.
“Well, there she is!” Brigitte declared. Though she was now 44, the only thing she had to show for her age were but a few slight creases under her eyes. Everything else about her seemed just as Losha remembered, right down to her distinctive, wide-brimmed hat. “Losha Holvate Sventa, it’s been too long.” The woman stood up and embraced the Wolf.
“It is good to see you too, Brigitte,” Losha smiled. “I am glad you are looking well.”
“Shucks, hon, ain’t nothing compared to y’all. Look at you, still as fit as a yougin. You really ain’t aged a bit, now have you?”
“Ladies,” Denze said. “I hate to deny you both a heartfelt reunion, but the matters at hand are not getting any less urgent.”
“Someone is getting a little antsy,” Faima said.
“I just want to get this going,” Denze responded calmly. “I should think we have put it off long enough.”
“Come on, everyone,” Losha said, gesturing at the table.
In a moment, they were all seated. Denze made sure the Wolf sat at the head near the board. He and Faima flanked her, followed by Virel, Mesel, and Brigitte.
“Alright, here we are. What is this all about, Denze?” Losha asked.
“We need to discuss exactly what we plan to do with the Zeroes. We cannot just have you going around by yourself. You will not win like that. I take it you already see this, so we already agree this is a group effort. We have to have resources, strategies, intelligence, a well-trained operation aimed at stopping them. Even if someone could go solo against them, they would need support.”
“Is this what you went and started? A sort of tactical ‘situation room’?”
“More or less. We need somewhere we can keep track of what is going on all across the Central Plains. I want this to be apart from the school. We will not mix the two. Just because we go after the Zeroes does not mean we have to abandon our true purpose.”
“And the radio? I suppose it for more than just having a chat every now and then.”
“If the Zeroes really are working across the entire region, we have to assume we could encounter them anywhere,” Denze said. “Any clan in any land is fair game to them. We need real-time communication with Talostol. Where we sit is essentially our headquarters. As I envisioned it, the Control Team stays here, offering technical back up to the Actions Teams out in the field.”
“Teams? Field ops? Denze, this is starting to sound a lot like-”
“Like WOLFGANG? Going off on missions? I know. That was the point. We have to be organized just like before, but better. The Zeroes are well disciplined. We have to match them. Haphazardly chasing after their trail can only get us so close. Catching them requires we approach this like our old jobs. This time, however, we are on our own. We set the rules, the boundaries, and whatever else. This time, none of us dies.”
Losha frowned momentarily. “Of course no one will. I still have to ask, how do you expect us to go about fighting the Zeroes then? Better phrased, what you did you have in mind when you set this in motion?”
“Like I said, the Control Team stays here and feeds the rest of us information. Gathering and analyzing new details will also fall to the Control Team. They will be responsible for determining where we go to look for the Zeroes. I think it is best if we had two Action Teams who will go out into the plains to deal with events and tackle the Zeroes. As I imagine things, you, Virel, and Faima would comprise the core members of each team, while I would switch between the Action and Control Teams as needed. We buddy-up when we go out there, no more solo stints. If I happen to be part of the Control Team at the time, that only means one Action Team can actually be deployed on a mission though. We will not involve any of our students. If I could, I would be on the Action Team full-time, but I have access to a lot of people across the Central Plains, a network of information. That is just... something from before my time in Palostrol. Processing intelligence will my responsibility as well as Mesel’s. Brigitte will naturally be our radio operator, so that completes the Control Team.”
“I see you put a lot of thought into this,” Losha nodded. “What about maintaining normal school functions? If we are constantly hunting down the Zeroes, we lose sight of what we initially set out to do.”
“I will make certain that at least one of us is around most of the time. It may be inevitable that all teams are occupied with a mission. However, we are going to have to push a lot more responsibilities onto the mentors within the student body. You have to remember, a number of them are adults too, and they have been with us since our first school, 15 years ago. They cannot replace us, but they will do fine on their own for brief periods of time. With careful lesson planning, there should not be any gaps in their overall growth.”
“Good. Looks like you have sorted out a great deal of issues already. However, I think the scope you have come up with is still too small...”
“Too small?” Denze asked, reflexively raising his brows. “What exactly do you mean by that?” Everyone else looked equally confused, except Virel, who knew where Losha was going. Both had yet to discuss the vision they’d developed on the trip back to Talostol.
“Think bigger. This cannot just be about stopping the Zeroes,” she said, putting her hands on the table and pushing herself upright. “This has to be about something larger.”
“Larger?” Denze breathed. “Like what?”
Losha looked around at the walls for a moment. Afterwards, she went over to one and unpinned a few sheets. “The Zeroes are a threat, there is no doubt of that. However, their rise is a symptom, not the disease. The true problem is something greater, something we have to fight against as well. No one has ever tackled it before, not until now.”
Moving to another wall, she scanned it closely before choosing specific papers to pull.
“There is a reason why the Zeroes exist at all. If we do not eliminate that, we do not really beat them. People are seeking out this mercenary group, seeking the power of rogue serialists and serastone because everyone is set against one another. Clan versus clan, one group attacking another. I have realized that even when subtracting the Zeroes from the equation, nothing changes. In the end, we are left with thousands on the brink of war, a land embroiled in hostilities, and a world of meaningless rivalries. The divisions between clans, major and minor alike, that is the real foe, the enemy behind the Zeroes.”
Carrying the sheets, Losha went over to the board and found a blank space. Slowly, she began arranging them in a sort of pattern.
“Previously, the clans have only wearily tolerated one another, but even that will soon give way. New weapons enter the battlefield: bigger guns, heavier cannons, more potent bombs, serastone. If that continues, we will ruin ourselves. It is time we do what history has failed to do. It is time for serialization to cure what has ailed the Central Plains for so long.”
She stepped back. The papers - maps of each major clan - were all put together like a giant chart of the entire region. There was a notable gap in the center. Losha quickly wrote something on a piece of scrap and stuck it up. It simply said “ASTE” in bolded letters.
“Our goal must be twofold,” she declared, folding her arms after drawing a cigarette from her pocket. “We will put to rest centuries of bloodshed and hate by at last uniting this land. No more will we see things as territories, but as a single nation, Aste. We will drive the people to become one. We will act as interventionists, stepping in the halt the violence, both from the clans and the Zeroes themselves.”
For a few moments, while she lit her cigarette with a quick series, everyone merely blinked at her.
“Wait... what?” Mesel asked, taking off his glasses.
“You really are serious,” Denze said with a slight grin. “You were right, I was thinking small.”
“Damn, Losha. Did not see that one coming,” Faima shook her head. “Always with the surprises.”
“Shrieks, I mean, why not? Let’s get this place straightened out,” Brigitte laughed. Losha took a drag and blew out a short puff.
“We have the power to change things. Serialization is like no other force on the planet. We need to show this world its potential not for war, but for peace. Though, if we really are going to do this together, to act as a unit, we should do this properly. We will need a name, an identity. Something new, something the plains can call us. A name that will be recognized. During my recent trip, I truly learned that there is no such thing as a lone wolf. Everyone in Talostol has become a family. That is why we will go by a befitting title, one that represents the strength we share when we join hands, one that embodies our will to see this shattered land made whole. To defeat the Zeroes, and to turn the Central Plains into a stable country, we will be known as WOLFPACK.”
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