The Argo Goes West

2, Cavalry vs Centaurs

About two hundred and fifty yards beyond the haze of yellow sand dunes, a dozen enemies were lined up in a row.

"What are those?" asked Lt. Col. Alvin Travers, commander of Troop B, 7th Cavalry. He is an elite graduate of the West Point Military Academy with honors. He was graceful and upright on horseback. On his dark blue uniform, the medal awarded for his achievements in the Indian Wars was shining brightly in the desert sun.

"... Even if you say so."

Captain John Carter muttered with a confused look.

Behind them stood the officers on horseback, the infantry with their rifles at attention, and the artillerymen with six-inch guns behind them.

The desert is hot, and the harsh sunlight and glare scorch the soldiers' skin mercilessly. Sweat trickles down from under their camper caps and into their eyes, but they are not allowed to wipe it off with their coat sleeves.

Carter didn't answer clearly, so Travers changed the question.

"So what do they look like to you?"

Carter didn't want to answer that question either. However, He can't help but answer when asked by his superiors. Reluctantly, he replied: "Like a man...like a horse..." His mouth crunched with the dust blowing.

Travers frowned sullenly. "Captain, have you never read Greek mythology?"

"I have read..."

"Didn't the book you read have illustrations?"

"I don't remember very well"

"Even if the book is not illustrated, you must have seen paintings by Titian or Botticelli."

Carter knew what the question meant. Travers isn't asking what he doesn't know. He dare to ask Carter what he know. The reason is that he doesn't want to answer himself. He is ashamed to say it himself. The pride of an elite soldier from West Point won't allow it. So he's trying to get Carter to say. But Carter doesn't want to say either. Carter wanted to shut up if he could, to keep pretending he didn't know. But Carter can't do that. Soldiers should not disobey orders from their superiors. Move forward when told to advance, shoot when told to shoot. Even if it's a reckless and foolish order that threatens the lives of the entire squad. He obeys the orders of his superiors without question, saying "yes sir". That is military discipline.

Carter took a deep breath and answered briskly.

"I see them as centaurs."

After a moment, Travers nodded silently. He seems to be praising Carter for answering well. But his questions didn't end there.

"Can you explain what a centaur is?"

Carter obeyed the order, even though he was disgusted in his heart. "Centaurs are legendary creatures that appear in Greek mythology. They have the upper body of a human and the lower body of a horse."

"I see."

Travers gave a satisfied smile. Carter responded with a wry smile. Carter's back was soaked with sweat, his uniform clinging to his skin.

Grabbing the binoculars he wore around his neck with both hands, Travers looked at the enemies beyond the dunes. "It's true, Captain. You're right about what you've reported. They're human from the waist up, but horsey from the waist down. But they're very hairy. Their hair is black and curly. What they wear on their shoulders is...a bow. They use tools."

Travers took his eyes off the binoculars and lost himself in thought for a moment. His countenance was more like that of a thinker or a poet than that of a soldier. Then he turned to Carter and asked,