"What?"
Huxley cleared his throat nervously. "They've all gone," he repeated.
"All?" she asked, her voice bordering on a plea.
"I'm afraid so."
"Have they at least left their weapons?"
"The rifles? No, apparently I don't own them. Well, either that or I've just been robbed, but this isn't the time and place to complain about such a thing."
"It is when we've been left defenseless!" she cried.
"Point taken. Perhaps I should have pressed them somewhat harder."
"No," she said, wiping her eyes. In the fire glow, Huxley could discern the redness within them, and the glistening tears that clung in their corners. "You were right to give them a choice."
"Tell me, then. What do we have?"
"I've my two rifles, and you've your pistol."
"You, Akan, and me--three guns for three men."
Virginia flashed a look that Huxley barely caught in the flickering light.
"Sorry, three persons, I meant to say. Better?"
"Much."
"You'll have to forgive me; I'm not accustomed to the sight of a lady with a rifle. It seems quite foreign, exotic."
"I'm a lady of the modern age, sir," she replied, a look of calm determination taking hold of her face. "I regret to inform you that we are terribly vexing."
"Ah. Brilliant."
"You say you have a plan, Mr. Huxley? Let's here it, then."
"Very well, my dear. How well-versed are you in the history of dear Mother England?"
She considered this for a moment before retorting with: "Somewhat, though I fail to see what this has to do with anything."
"Well, then, walk with me," he said with a grin, taking off through the village to find Akan and the small collection of weapons that they collectively owned. "You see, Ms. Pear, they say one must look to the past for answers to the present."
"Who says that? I've never heard it before."
"Bear with me, madam."
"Right. Sorry."
"As I was about to say, there is much to be learned from England's past, including her losses. Now, I've never been to America myself. It sounds like a wretched place, by all accounts, thus I've traded one jungle for another. Ah, there he is! Quickly, Ms. Pear, this way."
They headed toward the site of the expedition's former camp, where an enormous figure sat patiently by a fire--a darkened silhouette of a man that now contemplated his own silence and the possible repercussions of his lies should he at last speak up.
"Their war for independence, however," Huxley continued, "was supposedly a sight to behold. After all, they had but loose militias of farmers and laborers--no unified, standing army to speak of, at least at the onset. So how was it that they were able to match the sheer power of the British army?"
"You tell me, Mr. Huxley. I'm afraid I don't keep up with military history."
The truth was: neither did Thomas Huxley, but he hoped his small fragment of knowledge at least sounded convincing.
"Say what you will about Americans, their hygiene, and what passes for literature in their nation, but they can be exceedingly clever. They adopted non-traditional forms of combat. The British army was still being trained to travel and fight in strict regimental form. They were used to more geometric warfare, if you will. The Americans, however, used their landscape to their own advantage, hiding behind trees and taking shots at the enemy and that sort of thing."
"So you want us to hide and hopefully shoot all the slavers from cover, then, right?"
"Well, yes," Huxley replied, rather irritated that he didn't have the chance to explain his plan himself.
"Why didn't you just say that to begin with? It would've saved the both of us some time."
"Well, Ms. Pear, if you haven't noticed by now, I am quite in love with the sound of my own voice."
"Obviously," she scoffed.
"Come, Akan," called Huxley as they reached the camp, causing his friend to lift himself from the makeshift bench. "Care to hear the plan?"
"We're to take shots at the enemy from hiding," Virginia said plainly.
"Good Lord, Virginia," Huxley sighed.
"What?"
"Can I please detail my own plan at least once?"
She shook her head. "Fine."
"Oh, it's no use now. The moment has passed. Though a correction is in order: the two of you are going to take shots at the enemy from hiding. I, on the other hand, have something else in mind."
"And what would that be?" Virginia asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I'm going to use my most powerful weapon, of course. I'm going to talk to them, my dear."
"Are you mad?"
"No, but we've only the two rifles. I have my revolver, but it will do little good from so far a distance. I want the both of you to listen closely, and the moment things turn sour, open fire. Hopefully that'll prove enough of a distraction to allow me to find shelter and take a few down in the process. How's that?"
Akan stared at him grimly, in a silence not born of lies, rather out of a lack of anything meaningful to say.
"I suppose that will work," said Virginia. "I've no better idea, at any rate."
"Good. Let's hope they come soon or not at all. I've no desire to waste an entire night sitting out here awake and alone."
"Neither do I."
"Well, then, my friends, to your positions."
Huxley cleared his throat nervously. "They've all gone," he repeated.
"All?" she asked, her voice bordering on a plea.
"I'm afraid so."
"Have they at least left their weapons?"
"The rifles? No, apparently I don't own them. Well, either that or I've just been robbed, but this isn't the time and place to complain about such a thing."
"It is when we've been left defenseless!" she cried.
"Point taken. Perhaps I should have pressed them somewhat harder."
"No," she said, wiping her eyes. In the fire glow, Huxley could discern the redness within them, and the glistening tears that clung in their corners. "You were right to give them a choice."
"Tell me, then. What do we have?"
"I've my two rifles, and you've your pistol."
"You, Akan, and me--three guns for three men."
Virginia flashed a look that Huxley barely caught in the flickering light.
"Sorry, three persons, I meant to say. Better?"
"Much."
"You'll have to forgive me; I'm not accustomed to the sight of a lady with a rifle. It seems quite foreign, exotic."
"I'm a lady of the modern age, sir," she replied, a look of calm determination taking hold of her face. "I regret to inform you that we are terribly vexing."
"Ah. Brilliant."
"You say you have a plan, Mr. Huxley? Let's here it, then."
"Very well, my dear. How well-versed are you in the history of dear Mother England?"
She considered this for a moment before retorting with: "Somewhat, though I fail to see what this has to do with anything."
"Well, then, walk with me," he said with a grin, taking off through the village to find Akan and the small collection of weapons that they collectively owned. "You see, Ms. Pear, they say one must look to the past for answers to the present."
"Who says that? I've never heard it before."
"Bear with me, madam."
"Right. Sorry."
"As I was about to say, there is much to be learned from England's past, including her losses. Now, I've never been to America myself. It sounds like a wretched place, by all accounts, thus I've traded one jungle for another. Ah, there he is! Quickly, Ms. Pear, this way."
They headed toward the site of the expedition's former camp, where an enormous figure sat patiently by a fire--a darkened silhouette of a man that now contemplated his own silence and the possible repercussions of his lies should he at last speak up.
"Their war for independence, however," Huxley continued, "was supposedly a sight to behold. After all, they had but loose militias of farmers and laborers--no unified, standing army to speak of, at least at the onset. So how was it that they were able to match the sheer power of the British army?"
"You tell me, Mr. Huxley. I'm afraid I don't keep up with military history."
The truth was: neither did Thomas Huxley, but he hoped his small fragment of knowledge at least sounded convincing.
"Say what you will about Americans, their hygiene, and what passes for literature in their nation, but they can be exceedingly clever. They adopted non-traditional forms of combat. The British army was still being trained to travel and fight in strict regimental form. They were used to more geometric warfare, if you will. The Americans, however, used their landscape to their own advantage, hiding behind trees and taking shots at the enemy and that sort of thing."
"So you want us to hide and hopefully shoot all the slavers from cover, then, right?"
"Well, yes," Huxley replied, rather irritated that he didn't have the chance to explain his plan himself.
"Why didn't you just say that to begin with? It would've saved the both of us some time."
"Well, Ms. Pear, if you haven't noticed by now, I am quite in love with the sound of my own voice."
"Obviously," she scoffed.
"Come, Akan," called Huxley as they reached the camp, causing his friend to lift himself from the makeshift bench. "Care to hear the plan?"
"We're to take shots at the enemy from hiding," Virginia said plainly.
"Good Lord, Virginia," Huxley sighed.
"What?"
"Can I please detail my own plan at least once?"
She shook her head. "Fine."
"Oh, it's no use now. The moment has passed. Though a correction is in order: the two of you are going to take shots at the enemy from hiding. I, on the other hand, have something else in mind."
"And what would that be?" Virginia asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I'm going to use my most powerful weapon, of course. I'm going to talk to them, my dear."
"Are you mad?"
"No, but we've only the two rifles. I have my revolver, but it will do little good from so far a distance. I want the both of you to listen closely, and the moment things turn sour, open fire. Hopefully that'll prove enough of a distraction to allow me to find shelter and take a few down in the process. How's that?"
Akan stared at him grimly, in a silence not born of lies, rather out of a lack of anything meaningful to say.
"I suppose that will work," said Virginia. "I've no better idea, at any rate."
"Good. Let's hope they come soon or not at all. I've no desire to waste an entire night sitting out here awake and alone."
"Neither do I."
"Well, then, my friends, to your positions."
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