March 5, 2015
Jeanne studied the shotgun on the table in front of her.
Until today, she had never seen such a weapon before. But when she held the weapon in her hands it felt natural. Running the assault course with it had been exhilarating. It had felt like she had done this a hundred times before. She'd even been able to disassemble and reassemble the weapon, despite having no mechanical skill herself.
She knew why. While she and the other "warriors", as they were being called, had been recruited for their innate combat skills, they also came from earlier times. But just as Pope Francis had said to her, the X-COM scientists had grafted the knowledge of others onto the warriors. Jeanne was intimately familiar with the use of modern firearms, despite having no memory of using them before.
Well, that wasn't quite accurate. The knowledge had been taken from people – modern soldiers. Jeanne occasionally caught flashes, fragments of memory. She had been assured that the soldiers had willingly undergone the brain scans. But to have direct access to the experiences of others… it was unsettling.
There had been other information that the scientists had given her. That English had become the world's leading language put a foul taste in her mouth. She had been called to fight the English, and they had burned her at the stake. Pope Francis had been kind enough to speak French with her, but everyone else spoke only English. The only silver lining was that in addition to teaching her to speak English, they'd also taught her how to read it. Being able to open up a Bible and read the words herself had been a beautiful experience. And as she had soon learned, if she could read English, she could read French as well.
The scientists had also given her some familiarity with modern technology. One of the nurses had made a bad joke about it being witchcraft, but she had already known that in their substance, guns, computers, and planes were no different from crossbows, looms, or trebuchets. They were just tools, made by skilled artisans. And if she'd had any question about whether or not they had improved the world, the Wikipedia article on the history of agriculture had quashed those.
When Jeanne had been eleven, a summer drought had produced a poor harvest in much of France. That winter had been hard, and many had not survived. Her uncle Eduard had lost his infant son. And Jeanne's friend Marie had lost two of her brothers, and her mother. But had they lived in modern France, they would all have lived. In fact, they wouldn't have noticed anything beyond higher prices at the market.
The door to the armory opened, and a short, stocky man with a weathered face stepped through, carrying a sniper rifle. He nodded to her, set the rifle down on the table next to her, and began cleaning it, just as she had done with her shotgun. Jeanne's mouth twitched with humor.
"Another perfect score?" she asked.
Simo Häyha shrugged. "I have been shooting guns all my life," he replied. "It is important to practice."
Jeanne liked Simo. He was very humble, even – especially – when it came to his marksmanship. She had recalled an archer – Oscar d'Avignon – who was constantly bragging about his skills, and would frequently shoot birds out of the sky just to show that he could. Simo didn't seem to care, despite the fact that had Finland been a monarchy, he would probably have been given a lordship in recognition of his achievements.
Jeanne's reverie was broken by the wail of a siren, followed by a female voice over the intercom:
"Attention: all senior personnel, report to the briefing room."
Both Jeanne and Simo shot to their feet. Jeanne had no personal experience with these announcements, but she'd been imprinted with it. They dashed out of the armory, and headed to the briefing room.
The briefing room wasn't all that different from a medieval war council. The room itself was the size of a large tent, and there was a long table in the middle. The difference was that instead of looking at a map in the middle, everyone was focused on one of the TV screens built into the wall.
As they waited for everyone to arrive, Jeanne looked at the other occupants of the room. Out of all the strange things about this new world, the strangest of all were Jeanne's new comrades.
The first X-COM squad had been drawn from the best soldiers the world had to offer. All four had years of service, exemplary combat records, and numerous decorations. Four had walked into that building in Stuttgart. One had been carried out on a stretcher. The other three had been carried out in body bags. It would be up to the warriors to do the fighting from now on. So far, five, including Jeanne herself, had been released from medical.
Simo Häyha had been the first. Of all of them, he'd had the easiest time adjusting to the modern world. That was probably because he'd died just thirteen years earlier. He knew about guns and cars and computers. In fact, he'd even discovered that the e-mail account he'd set up two years before his death was still active. And when he'd woken up, he'd been greeted by his own children. Also, when X-COM had compiled its list of historical warriors to resurrect, he'd been the first to be chosen. No one had argued about putting the greatest sniper of all time into their squad. He and Jeanne had gotten along quite well.
The same could not be said for Genghis Khan. He was a bear of a man, with broad shoulders, powerful limbs, and a long beard of straight red hair. Jeanne might not have had much in the way of formal schooling, but even she had heard of the ferocious Mongol hordes that had still threatened the edges of Europe. When she'd first met him in person, Genghis had looked at her the way men often looked at women. And he showed no sign of regret for the atrocities he'd committed – indeed, he seemed proud of them. He was certainly eager to get into the fight against the aliens. Jeanne didn't trust him at all.
The hardest to figure out was Ragnar Lothbrok. Ragnar wasn't as big as Genghis, but no man would call him small or weak. He had a sturdy frame, short blond hair, and icy blue eyes. Like Genghis, he was eager for battle. Like Genghis, he was a pagan. And while Genghis had mostly slaughtered other pagans and Muslims, Ragnar had fought and killed Christians. But where Genghis had been initially skeptical of Jeanne's worth as a fighter, Ragnar had called her "a Christian shieldmaiden". He'd even become her sparring partner, and never once had he disrespected her. He, too, had thrown her a few glances, but most men did. The odd thing about Ragnar was that he generally only looked at her that way after their sparring matches.
And finally, there was Tesla. He wasn't a warrior, at least not in the sense of possessing any modicum of fighting skill. He'd been resurrected for his mind. According to his profile, Nikola Tesla had been a great scientist and artisan, devising numerous technologies. Tesla was almost as tall as Genghis, but he was much thinner, with dark hair, grey eyes, and a well-groomed mustache. Where the warriors wore combat fatigues, Tesla wore a modern suit. He seemed remarkably composed at the moment.
All of them hailed from different time periods and nations. All had vastly different worldviews and experiences. But they shared the common ground of being out of time. Even Simo had to adapt to this new world. It set them apart from the others – the "modern" members of X-COM.
Central Officer Jeremy Bradford wore a green T-shirt with the X-COM insignia sewn over his breast. His hair was thinning slightly, and he had a microphone headset on. He seemed rather uncomfortable at the moment, probably because two weeks ago, he'd been in charge. He'd overseen the first mission into Stuttgart, and his poor tactics had resulted in disaster. To his credit, Bradford hadn't tried to deflect any blame. And it had been the first encounter with the aliens. Rather than dismissing him entirely, Bradford had been demoted. He was in charge of administration, which nearly everyone agreed was his strong suit. Still, he would never escape the shame of having gotten men killed.
Dr. Angela Vahlen wore a green-white labcoat over her dark green turtleneck. The Swiss-born scientist was slender, had her blonde hair tied in a bun, and was always carrying a tablet computer. She was also responsible for resurrecting the warriors, which generally endeared her to them. Unlike most of the staff, she seemed eager to learn more about the aliens. Jeanne had originally assumed it was mere curiosity, but after speaking with her on several occasions, she'd come to understand that Vahlen was just as determined to defeat the aliens as anyone else, and believed that science would provide the answer. She actually reminded Jeanne of some of the more fanatical priests she'd known.
Dr. Raymond Shen was Vahlen's physical opposite. He was stocky, mostly bald with some grey hair, and wore spectacles. He seemed a lot more grim, and didn't strike Jeanne as particularly brilliant. But he was an engineer, with over forty years of experience working for the American Department of Defense. In addition to running the maintenance and fabrication teams, he'd also overseen the original construction of X-COM headquarters, and would perform the same role for the expansions currently underway.
The last to enter the room was Captain Victoria Silver, the new commander of X-COM. Silver was a veteran of the Australian Special Air Service regiment, having served with distinction in Afghanistan. More importantly, she was the sole survivor of the Stuttgart operation… and the only living human being to have faced aliens in battle. Her left leg had been burnt off by an alien plasma pistol, so she used a motorized wheelchair to get around. The way she carried herself, it might as well have been a throne.
"What do we have?" she asked curtly, after returning everyone's salutes.
Bradford manipulated the controls for the main screen. It was currently showing a map of Africa. The X-COM insignia marked their headquarters in the Ethiopian mountains. A flashing red dot was centered on a city on the southern coast of West Africa.
"We've received reports of alien abductions in Lagos, Nigeria," he said. "The Nigerian government has declared a state of emergency and has ordered an evacuation of much of the city. They've formally requested our assistance to deal with the situation."
Silver nodded. "Do we have any intelligence on the enemy?" she asked. "Numbers? Composition?"
Bradford shrugged. "Nothing solid. Apart from media accounts, the only reports we have are from the police. They've confirmed that at least three devices similar to the one from Stuttgart have landed in downtown Lagos, and they believe there are aliens moving around, but no direct sightings. Best guess is that this is a smaller incursion."
Silver inhaled deeply, and turned to the warriors. "Suit up. I want you to hit Lagos, find out what's happening, and kill every damn alien in the city."
Jeanne stood, and saluted Captain Silver. "Yes, ma'am!"