Suddenly, everything became clear. It was as if Alex had been extremely nearsighted and put on his glasses. No longer at the temple, he blinked his eyes a few times to discover that he was again back in his Macedonian tent. At first he felt slightly disoriented, but the noise outside his tent quickly made him regain his faculties.
Bang. Clank. Boom!
The clamoring continued. Mentally exhausted, Alex forced himself to stand and walk toward the edge of the tent. The commotion had broken his mental link with The New Reality computer system.
He did not know how long he had been away from his troops and had no wish to arouse any suspicion by lingering too long inside the tent. Ignoring his remaining headache, he forced himself to walk outside. No longer warm and humid, the skies had turned dark and a cool breeze blowing in from the gulf had chilled the air.
To his surprise, his entire army was breaking camp and packing their supplies. Carts were filled, tents stowed and horses loaded. It was like clockwork as every man had their assignment and was executing it with the utmost efficiency.
Alex scrambled up to the nearest soldier. Recognizing the man’s face, he grabbed him by the shoulders and asked, “Admetos, what’s all the excitement about?”
“King Alexander, Parmenio has ordered an immediate withdrawal of the entire army.”
“Under whose command?” Alex shouted, ignoring the sharp pain that suddenly shot through his head.
“I do not know. I’m just following orders.”
Alex threw down his hands in disgust. Not only had he failed to acquire the lock, but now he also seemed to have lost control of his entire army.
“Parmenio! Parmenio!” Alex yelled as he sludged through the wet sand along the Syrian beach. Never had he been so frustrated. Not even Samantha had raised his blood pressure to such a level.
Looking around the camp, he saw his trusted steed Bucephalus being groomed by a few of his attendants. Not wasting any time, Alex ran over to his prized horse and mounted its back with one mighty leap. The great black stallion instantly came to attention, awaiting its master’s command.
Surprised by Alex’s abrupt interruption, his servants seemed startled and stood motionless. But after a brief second, they all gained their composure and quickly handed Alex the reigns to his horse.
“Parmenio!” Alex called while quickly surveying the entire camp. “Parmenio!” he yelled again at the top of his voice.
Alex knew that if he lost control of his army, he would inevitably be put to death. Remembering what Harding had told him about the consequences of serious physical injury in this virtual world, he could take no chances. Plus, he knew that if he did not succeed, all his friends and loved ones back in the real world would be doomed.
No one responded as the army quickly packed their gear and readied themselves for departure. Parmenio was nowhere in sight, and Alex’s calls appeared to be drowned out by the commotion around him.
Alex pulled Bucephalus’ reigns taut and nudged him in the ribs with his heel. The horse swiftly responded and began to speed down the beachhead, negotiating his way through the soldiers.
“Parmenio… where are you?” Alex yelled. “Parmenio!”
The horse galloped even faster as Alex continued to push the steed to its limits. With remarkable precision, Alex rode his horse through the camp, dodging all obstacles along the way. Sand spewed from beneath Bucephalus’ hooves as he galloped unabated down the beach.
Fortunately for Alex, years of flying his aero-bike made him a natural equestrian. The skills he gained from racing provided him the ability to quickly acquire the expertise needed to ride such a powerful stallion as Bucephalus.
Through the crowd of soldiers, Alex finally caught sight of his target. Parmenio, riding atop his equally muscular horse, was spotted mingling among the pikemen soldiers.
Alex made a hard right and rode Bucephalus through the lot of soldiers. The men darted out of the way as to not be trampled underneath Bucephalus’ hooves.
Finally noticing Alex, Parmenio turned his horse in order to address the rapidly approaching king. “Good morning, King Alexander. I was just going to have my men awaken you,” he said in greeting.
“Parmenio!” berated Alex. “Under whose authority did you command these men to break camp?”
The soldiers around them stopped packing and watched the showdown commence. There had always been friction between Parmenio and Alexander, but it had never been carried to this degree in the past. Their curiosity was tempered by angst. Away from home and deep within enemy territory, the soldiers certainly had no wish to see a rift form within the command structure.
Parmenio responded remorsefully, “King Alexander, accept my apologies. I did not wish to wake you.” Bowing his head for forgiveness, he continued, “With our upcoming battle, I thought it best you receive a proper rest.”
“My sleeping habits are none of your concern. I should have you quartered and thrown out into the bay as food for the fish.”
“I meant no harm,” apologized Parmenio, lowering his head even closer to his horse.
“I will have no insubordination among my officers,” scolded Alex. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes, King Alexander. I was only reacting to news brought to us by Nearchos.”
“What news?” asked Alex impatiently.
“He arrived by sea in a trireme, just as the storm passed earlier this morning, with urgent news of the Persian army’s movement.”
“And no one informed me—the commander of the entire Macedonian army? Where is Nearchos now?”
Parmenio pointed to a weathered soldier wrapped in animal skins sitting along the edge of a nearby horse-drawn wagon. The man held the warm animal pelts close as he shivered profusely in the cool morning air. His long black hair and beard were still soaked from the passing rain, and his eyes seemed overburdened from his recent voyage.
“This discussion is not over,” added Alex.
Now turning his immediate attention to Nearchos, he galloped over to the wagon in which the man was sitting. While drawing closer, he noted Nearchos’ color to be slightly blue and that red mucus dripped from both his nostrils.
Alex dismounted his horse and propped himself up on the back of the wagon next to his hypothermic naval commander. Nearchos initially was not aware of Alex’s arrival and stared blankly out into the distance.
Alex leaned forward and empathetically said, “Nearchos, it appears you have traversed rough weather to bring us urgent news from the north.”
Nearchos slowly focused his eyes. Upon recognizing who was sitting next to him, he was surprised and exhilarated all at once. After regaining his composure, he said, through chattering teeth, “King Alexander! Where are my manners?”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Alex said while wrapping the animal pelts more tightly around him. “Take your time.”
“Thank you. We spotted the entire Persian army marching through a narrow valley pass in the Amanus Mountains and now heading southwards past Issus.” With fear in his eyes he then shuttered, “Their size… their size! They’re coming to get us!”
“No need to get excited,” Alex assured. “Just tell me what you saw.”
“As if no man in the entire Persian Empire were spared,” Nearchos exclaimed wide-eyed. “They marched in numbers too large to count. From one end of the valley to the other, they advanced like a vast sea made of men.”
Alex remembered that Darius did have the support of a much larger army. In fact, the ratio was far from promising. Compared to his 40,000 men, Darius boasted an army totaling 250,000.
Despite the allure of facing the Persian army in an epic battle like the original Alexander the Great, he did not like the notion of getting killed while doing so.
Alex patted Nearchos on the back. “The entire Macedonian army is in your debt. You have done us all a great service. I will personally see to it that your alcohol rations are tripled for the next month and that all your debt back home is forgiven.”
Before Alex had the opportunity to stand, Nearchos dropped the animal pelts and grabbed him by the shoulder. “King Alexander,” he fervently added, “that is not all! They bring with them mighty beasts of enormous size the likes of which no Macedonian has ever seen. I cannot bear to think what an animal like that could do to our ranks!”
Alex realized right away that Nearchos was referring to an elephant. Never before seen on the European continent, it must have struck awe into his heart when he first caught sight of it.
“Do not worry,” Alex reassured. “No animal is too great for the might of the entire Macedonian army. Get well, sailor, and keep this news between us.”
Alex departed from the wagon. Upon mounting, the ramifications of the situation quickly became apparent: he was trapped in The New Reality with no means to contact the outside world, physically vulnerable to myriad ways of dying, and without the lock. All in all, not the situation he wanted to be in.
“Sir?” one of the soldiers asked. “What are your orders?”
“We march north,” Alex shouted. Without other recourse, he had no other option. If he retreated for a battle later, he would be considered a coward. However, marching north only meant markedly increasing his risk of death by engaging in a massive battle where he was enormously outnumbered.
As Alex was about to leave, a searing heat shot through his head. All the commotion and his recent entrance into The New Reality computer system must have overwhelmed his posterior cingulate cortex. In excruciating pain, he fell from his horse, hitting the ground.
As the world around him began to go dark, a distinct image appeared in his mind.
Achilles’ shield.