UNIT6 The Pasture Night settled, thick with the acrid odors of gunpowder and blood. No moon meant firing at muzzle flashes, an inexact method by which to combat one's foe, but the enemy had no advantage either. With artillery fire blanketing the field of battle, Jack had no opportunity to go to Mike's aid. He poked his head over the rim of the trench to see if he could spot Mike's corpse. He knew he was dead. He had heard his scream of pain when he was hit. His agonized moans had grown weaker and less frequent and finally ceased about ten minutes ago. The regiment had been under heavy bombardment for two days, without respite. He had been too late to stop Mike as he propelled himself out of the foxhole and staggered as he hit the muddy terrain. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Mike had started to break yesterday. He was becoming bizarre, talking about his patriotic duty to expel the enemy from these shores. Paradoxically, just before he hopped over the edge of the trench he scorned the day he had heeded the call to enlist. It pained him to realize that his one friend in this ungodly war had betrayed him by dying. Soldiers don't often make friends with one another, knowing they might die. He and Mike were different. They had known each other since they were children. Mike was the best man when Jack and Lily walked down the aisle just a week before they left the dock and crossed the channel to engage the enemy. Clouds tumbled and overlapped one another as the wind began to freshen. It was getting colder now. The prospect of another night of rain, or perhaps even snow, made Jack quiver with dread. Blood tinged water was beginning to crust over with ice. He could feel his toes and fingers stiffen as the temperature dropped. Maybe Mike was better off than he. At least the cold wouldn't bother him any more. Suddenly, comets of light began to streak across the night sky. They were using flares! The increased tempo of cannon fire coming from the left flank, shattering the earth around them, could only mean the enemy had sensed their weakness, and was coming in for the kill. They were heading straight for the underbelly!Jack's rifle misfired. The whole corps had been issued new guns a few days before this campaign had started. It wasn't long before they discovered that the alloy used in the barrels couldn't endure prolonged firing, causing the shell casings to adhere in the bore. How could he repel the enemy without a weapon? Jack felt a stab of pain in his right thigh. The ground around him ruptured. Jerking from side to side, he tried to dodge falling rocks and the clods of dirt raining down upon him. He slumped into a prone posture as he felt himself shoved from behind by an unknown force that felt as if it might have been a racing locomotive. The last thing he heard, before his world was overturned, was a chorus of screams. Am I dead? Where am I? Where is everybody? Cognitively, Jack realized he was still functioning physiologically so that meant he was still alive, but for how long? He couldn't move. Maybe the impact had fractured his spine and he was paralyzed. He triedanalyticallyto assess the damage incurred by moving his limbs, one by one, in a clockwise direction, starting with his right arm. Everything appeared able to be mobilized but for some reason he couldn't get up off the ground. Everything went black again. Jack led his horse by the reins as they stepped onto the overpass bridging the gap between the plateaus. In the distance, he could see a twelve point buck grazing in the pasture, silhouetted against the waning sunset. Out of nowhere, a bull came charging across the meadow toward him. He tried to run but his feet were pegged to the bridge. Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jack tried to make sense of what had happened to him. He seemed to be in a cavity under the ground. The earth was compacted on his legs but he thought he might be able to rotate his body enough to make himself a little more comfortable. Was that a shaft of light he could see through the groove between the fingers of his left hand covering his eyes? He groped to clear a tiny bit more space for himself. The shutters of his consciousness closed again.The galaxy was being probed by lunar modules shuttling between Earth and the other planets. As a member of a federation of geologists, Jack and his team had to follow the seam of ore to its source, a pasture on a distant asteroid. Once again, Jack regained lucidity. Wow, he thought, that was like a bad paperback novel about astronomy! He sniffed the air. It was foul with the smell of death but qualitatively able to sustain life. Why was it so quiet? Was he deaf? Was the battle over? Was everyone dead? The weight on his legs was becoming oppressive. |