The Drone Wars

Mountain Climb

Somehow Pig had always imagined caves differently: a nice place to build a camp fire, flat sandy floor, a few rocks here and there, a small doorway and an interior big enough for twenty or thirty people.  The cave on Lieutenant Clairvaux's map turned out to be very disappointing.  The interior was small, cramped, had a highly irregular floor rock floor that sloped out through a large entrance obstructed by plants.  Ferns grew near the entrance and slimy water dripped from the ceiling.  Pig was miserable and their limited food stores were getting wet.  Fortunately, the food was packed in water-tight plastic and would survive.  The sun was setting outside and it was dark enough to need flash lights though they sat near the entrance to the cave.

"There's an operator somewhere's in this jungle," said Pig.  "We need to find 'em and fix their red wagon.  We sure can't go home with those things buzzing around.  We wouldn't make it back to the trucks."

"I agree that the operators are not back home.  But it's not possible for them to be hiding out here either," responded Clairvaux.  "Where could they hide so that our satellites could not have seen them by now."

"Have you ever heard of neutrino communications?" said Mitch.  "The Chinese could still be controlling them from Beijing or Putinberg.  No worries about interference."

"Neutrino communication is dicey at best," said Clairvaux.  "There's a reason no one has perfected it.  And it's one way.  And you need monstrueux equipment to receive.  No way those bitty drones could get signals and they sure couldn't broadcast back.

Azikiwe spoke up: "The drones are being controlled by a machine.  Up on the mountain side.  I saw a glint of it."

"Une abomination illégale!" stammered Clairvaux.  "Would the Chinese and Russians really break the treaty?  All nations signed onto the United Nations Convention on the AI Drone Warefare in 2039.  No nation has broken it yet."

"Well, sir," said Pig, "I don't know much about how these here machines work, but I do know that the Russians and Chinese are having a hard time keeping up with us.  Our side's been losing an awful lot of money and men.  The President promised us oil, gas, lithium, and copper but that's a bunch of baloney.  For every barrel of oil we get out of here, we're gonna spend three fighting. We're not going to get Africa's treasure trove of natural resources, but they're losing this war.  It's easy to abide by a treaty when you're winning.  But people cheat when they're losin'."

Lieutenant Clairvaux stroked his chin thoughtfully.  "Once in a while you Américains make good points.  Either the drone controller is a person or small team hiding in this valley or it is an autonomous machine.  If we want to make it out of here alive we need to destroy the controller."

The conversation ended and Clairvaux pulled a bottle of wine which he began to sip on. He shared none of it, the rest drank water and munched on rations. Shortly thereafter, Clairvaux, his tongue loosened by wine, began ranting at Pig. He bemoaned France's lost glory. He was bitter that while America had lost it's position as the world's sole superpower that France had not taken it's place and America, along with Britain, was leading Europe. He was particularly bitter that English had become the world's universal language and not his beloved French. He bemoaned the fact that here they were fighting with the Russians and the Chinese over Nigeria which should, by his accounting belong as a colonial vassal of France, such as so much of Africa had been for a time.

Azikiwe looked incensed but said nothing. Pig whispered to him: "How do you brainwash a Frenchman?"

The other man looked puzzled.

"Pour water down his pants."

Azikiwe smiled. "Seriously," Pig continued whispering, "I heard a news story. They found a suspicious item at the airport in Paris. The police shut the whole place down while they examined the item, never seen anything like it. What do ya think it was?"

Azikiwe shrugged his shoulders. "Deodorant. Never seen it before."

Morning arrived with the cackling of parrots and monkeys.  Pretty soon Pig felt like a pack mule.  His stout frame could carry nearly two hundred pounds of equipment but it felt like he was carrying two fifty.  Azikiwe was a large, well built man so he carried nearly as much.  Clairvaux refused to carry anything but a forty pound pack as did Mitch.

They started on the treacherous climb up the steep hillside.  The military may not have been efficient but it was definitely prepared.  Pig's packs were full of climbing equipment: carabiners, ropes, belay devices, and everything else they could possibly need.  The top of the northern mountain range in which their cave was, peaked at least fifteen hundred feet up and progress was slow.

"See!" said Azikiwe pointing at some plants next to a small but beautiful waterfall. In times of more water flow, it must have looked spectacular.  "We are on the right track.  Men have been here.  And recently."

Pig and Azikiwe moved forward so that Clairvaux could take a closer look. The waterfall ahead was splattering them with mist as Azikiwe and Pig stood precariously on the slippery rocks. Clairvaux looked pensively down at the shrub. "I'm not sure. Could be an animal."

Appearing exasperated, Azikiwe stepped awkwardly around Pig. "Look!" he pointed at the muddy ground right next to Clairvaux. There was a boot print in the patch of earth. "Does that look like an animal to you?"

Just then, the rock that Azikiwe had put all his weight on gave way. Pig's heart jumped in his chest. The precipice was almost a hundred feet up and the black man face turned from angry to pitiful surprise as he began plummeting to the jagged rocks below. Pig instantly bent over and reached down grabbing Azikiwe's outstretched, pleading arm.

It took all of Pig's strength to hold on as the rocks and debris clattered down the mountain into the brush below. Pig was also having a hard time keeping his balance. "Put your foot there," he yelled as he pointed at a rock near Azikiwe's thigh.

Azikiwe looked terrified. Pig glanced over to Clairvaux who was right next to him, hoping to get some assistance in lifting the heavy man up. Clairvaux offered no help. Mitch was a distance away, positioned such that there was nothing she could do to improve the situation.

With some maneuvering, Azikiwe was agile enough to get his foot into the necessary position. It took a couple of more minutes of careful effort to get him back up to the relative safety of the narrow ledge. "All right. Let's get moving again," Clairvaux commanded. He looked unconcerned, if not a bit annoyed by the inconvenience. "Daylight is wasting."

Pig crossed the waterfall first, getting completely drenched in the process. He looked up at the mountain top scanning along the ridge as he waited for the others to cross. There was a glint of shiny metal, reflecting the sun's last rays. They were on the right track.