Alone

You could imagine the shock, the crash even, as the knights plunged into the rear of the poor bloody infantry, a solid block of immovability when attacked from the front. But sickly in its soft vulnerability when attacked from the rear by a surging mass of men and horses armed and armoured to the teeth. That neat rectangular block dissolved into a disappearing slick of individuals that scattered like wind blown foam on a heavy sea.

This was the culmination of a long and closely fought contest. A see-saw infantry battle had not yielded victory to either side and the cavalry had merely skirmished for most of the conflict.
Eventually, though, one commander had seen an opportunity. Some carefully husbanded reserves of his elite knights were manoeuvred around to a flank and made ready to charge a mass of infantry from their undefended rear.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Well, not quite.

Numbers were still evenly matched and the infantry who were being cut down were just a part of an experienced army that had been a worthy adversary. Still, the domino effect, although a cliché, holds true to such events and once this strike into the undefended rear had been made the rest did, albeit slowly at first, fall to the sword, spear, lance and whatever else that could be wielded.

All reserves were sent crashing in. Massed infantry swarmed to push and crush their opponents onto the knight's lances charging in from behind. Too late, did the protecting cavalry rush to protect their infantry. The wound had already been opened and the blood was not to be staunched. Slowly the massed infantry became less mass; more mess, and then the flow of defeated individuals started streaming away from the battle, only to be cut down and turned from a steady flow into a series of desultory clots that, in their turn, disappeared under the tide of their foes.

Tony loved this game. It seemed almost real as he moved his cursor over various groups of computer generated medieval figures to coordinate yet another great victory. He used the cursor to swoop around like an eagle to get the best view points and to savour the destruction of his computer generated foe. The scenery was almost real to look at and gave him something akin to a god-like feeling. The game even generated the noise of battle with shouting and screaming that increased and decreased as he moved nearer to or further away from key points of the battle.

This battle, though, had been harder fought than any other he had played. It had been so close that, at one time, he had considered withdrawing his better units to safety and conceding defeat. Oh well, it was all but won now and Tony sat back in his seat smug in the knowledge that he had won yet another victory. He took a sip from a glass of wine, a nice Shiraz, he had at his side. Only when it touched his lips did he realise that he hadn't had a taste of that in some while, so engrossed had he been in his game. It was now, when the game could look after itself, that he pondered on the fact that he rarely lost himself so completely in real life.

Back to the game. No time for philosophising. He hadn't had enough to drink for that.
The bulk of the enemy had been destroyed now and it was time to mop up. He always found this part of the game a bit of an anti-climax, even boring at times. Mostly, he would allow the computer to finish it off and just keep a weather eye on it while he checked texts or even picked up a book or magazine. This one he wanted to finish quickly. The battle had been harder than most and the campaign element of the game demanded a decisive victory for him to claim more lands. So he explored the remains of the routing enemy closely to see how and where he could do most damage.

He put his wine glass back in its place and spent almost an hour moving his troops around, mopping up small groups of fleeing enemy where he could find them. Occasionally he would pull the cursor back so that he could get a view of the whole battlefield and see where all the survivors were located by their flashing coloured symbols. Then he would send off a party to eliminate it. He smiled at the thought that commanders like Henry V at Agincourt would have given their eye teeth to have his ability to zoom in and out of the battlefield at will. In a way it amounted to cheating, he mused. His momentary doubt was thrown to the wolves at the thought that the computer, his opponent in reality, had exactly the same advantages.

Yawning, he slowly got to a conclusion. He zoomed back and found that the flashing coloured symbols showed no enemy survivors. This was puzzling. If there were no enemy he should have got a pop-up declaring a victory and how decisive it was. He examined the map more closely. All of his troops had run off chasing their fleeing enemies. Once any enemy had fled the field that was the equivalent to destroying them; and now there were none at all. In fact there was only one flashing symbol left on; one of his own. A little red flashing beacon in the middle of a, now empty, battlefield.

Tony zoomed in to examine this lone symbol. It could be one soldier or a group clumped together. Maybe there was an enemy hidden and, in some way, impossible to destroy. He had to find out.

Back he went to ground level and he could see only one thing. A lone figure just standing there and doing nothing. It was in the livery of his own forces and armed with a spear and shield. It was a footsoldier, a spearman.

So why was this lone soldier standing there with no pop-up appearing to close the game?
Tony moved his cursor onto the little man, clicked on him and then moved up to the toolbar to give an order. The order he picked was basically, “move to nearest enemy and fight”, not to put too fine a phrase on it. Maybe that would flush out some hidden unit or individual. He clicked again. The little man just stood there. Was there a fault with the game? That would be infuriating at such a late stage when he had what appeared to be a resounding victory.

He moved the cursor onto the little man and clicked to take control so as to move him around the locality. He didn't know what he was going to do but if he sent the guy marching around it might resolve something. Maybe he could march him off the battlefield.

Tony clicked and clicked again. Nothing. The stubborn little fellow just stood there. Now this was all wrong. There must be a problem. Maybe he should just call it a day and start all over again another day. But computer games aren't like that are they? Once you are hooked you have to see it through to the end and beyond.

So he clicked again and again. The little soldier stayed glued to his spot and Tony stopped clicking and sat wondering what to do. The little man moved, but not where Tony had attempted to send him previously and sometime after he had clicked. He went over to a nearby tree and dropped his spear and shield next to it and then went behind the tree.

What the.... Tony blinked; he could hardly believe what he had seen. This little computer generated figure had done something independently and with no apparent reason. Then he sat down. This was way out of anything that these soldiers were supposed to do. They never dropped their weapons, except when killed and never sat down. He wasn't aware if the programme allowed for that. This little fellow did just that though.

Tony sat and watched while the figure just sat there for a few minutes; intrigued and puzzled. He didn't attempt any more clicks of the cursor to move the little fellow. He did pan his viewpoint to have a look at this strange figure who had acquired even more of a semblance of humanity. An independence. A look at the complete map from above confirmed that there was no other soldier on the battlefield, that this stubborn fellow was the only one left.

After some minutes the little man got up and threw his helmet off. He then took off his tunic and was left standing there naked. He stood and appeared to be looking directly out of the screen. He had taken on an independence that Tony didn't know how to handle. He seemed alive.

Tony was a little unnerved and wondered about switching the game off. The man on the other side of the screen started walking again, this time towards Tony. This was no longer a game. He seemed to be looking directly at Tony and instead of staying to scale and the computer “camera” moving with him he got bigger. And bigger. Tony could see his eyes now. He got bigger still. Closer. His face almost filled the screen. Tony shivered. He could see a hand make for the screen frame as though to get a grip on the very physicality of the computer itself; and as the man did this Tony looked into his eyes.

And then he switched the computer off.