This was not wilderness: only hinterland. But is was still remote enough to be silent.

Out by the most north western edge of the city the terrain is mostly flat. Tonight it is also parched dry. Out there the glow of Sacramento's city lamps offer only ambient light.

Martha's vampiric senses were hard at work. She sniffed the air for any danger. There were, as the name suggested, few trees and little cover out this far. Mostly open meadow...or expanses of farm land - and bare field sites which have plenty of weeds and only the promise of enterprise. Yet, where crops had been sown, they were well irrigated and bathed in sun. They had grown lush. But now the Earth was bleeding heat back into the sky. Martha nodded to herself at that thought: the evening sky itself Feeding off the Life of the Earth. A small breeze brushed the unmaintained yellowing grass by the roadside.

Here is where the desolation of Lone Tree Road meets the length of West Elkhorn Boulevard. It marks the upper north western limit of Sacramento's official municipal boundary – and it is where Martha contemplated the Rules. Smiling to herself, she 'warmed up.' Bending her slim waist to touch her toes, taking her time to stretch out and raise her arms high above her head, trying to bring suppleness to her spine.

The Rules, she decided, are quite clear on how to proceed. The Principles which I shall follow are equally straightforward. They would, I imagine, require little modification. Though that is an assumption I shall have to investigate too.

The Army Council had been laid down these Rules - good and sound advice born from the lessons of 300 years of military activity - under the hand of His Majesty the King, in 1909 – she saw no need to challenge their essential wisdom now.

Martha remembered many things about her father. She easily recalled his alert eyes, the timbre of his voice and the intelligent force of his arguments when debating with his peers. She had no difficulty at all in remembering his posture and the aroma of the sandalwood lotions he, in common with many men of his generation, used.

A well stocked private library had supplied her with much knowledge and helped her pass many hours in reading and study. Martha was recalling, with equal ease, the words she had learned from the military manuals she had read there and elsewhere. The manuals had served her father well. Would they, she wondered, do the same for her now?

Martha had travelled light to Elkhorn Boulevard. Her hat and shoes were new, but cheap; her blouse was from an economy purchase. She brushed at her blouse and readied her long school gymslip and ensured the contents of her satchel, a compass, a whistle, useful things such as those, were fast in their waterproof map case and bag, she thought back...

Field Service Regulations: Operation

Movement: Compared with cavalry and artillery the movement of infantry in a day is limited; but on the other hand it is capable of moving over almost any ground.

She smiled. Her movement was only limited, not neutralised.

Why had she begun this project? There were many reasons. Perhaps more would reveal themselves to her as she advanced along the route of Expedition.

Martha knelt to secure the laces on her cheap shoes. Cheap because they needed to be expendable tonight.

She remembered how the afternoon sunlight had fallen on the pages of the small military manuals. The light gave the words a glow. A lusture of perfect sensibility.

Chapter V: Protection - General principles

1. Every commander is responsible for the protection of his command against surprise. A force can only be regarded as secure from surprise when protection is furnished in every direction from which attack is possible.

The strength, composition, and disposition of forces detailed for protective duty must depend on circumstances, such as the nature of the country, the proximity, strength, and characteristics of the enemy; also on whether the duty is to be carried out in clear weather, or in fog or darkness. The objects to be attained are, firstly, to obtain timely warning of any threatened attack, and, secondly, to ensure to the force protected sufficient time to prepare to meet the attack...

Ah, yes...and Chapter VI: Information had offered her further advice and inspiration:

General principles - Timely information regarding the enemy's dispositions and the topographical features of the theatre of operations is an essential factor of success in war. Systematic arrangements must always be made to ensure that every possible source of information is fully utilized, that all information received is immediately transmitted to the proper quarter, and that it is carefully sifted before any conclusions are formed. These are duties of the general staff.

2. Information in war may be obtained from maps and reports prepared in peace, by reconnaissance, by means of special agents, from statements of inhabitants, by tapping telephones or telegraphs, from newspapers, letters, telegraph files..."

And this led to her contemplating the words that had prompted her to Lone Tree Drive.

4. Reconnaissance is the service of obtaining information with regard to :

i. The topographical features and resources of a country,
ii. The movements and dispositions of an enemy.

Chapter VI: Personal reconnaissance by a commander.

1. The extent of ground occupied by a large force will often prevent its commander from personally reconnoitring the whole of the ground on which his troops may be engaged...

2. Time spent in reconnaissance is seldom wasted: and unless the situation demands instant action, a commander of a division or of a smaller unit should never commit his troops to an engagement until he has made a personal survey of the ground before him."

And what, she had asked herself over many evenings, did she want to learn?

The instructions were clear: Chapter VII. Steps should be taken immediately to secure any bridges, defiles, or other vital points on the line of retreat, at which the enemy's mounted troops might intercept the force...

Reconnaissance of a position.

1. In reconnoitring a position with a view to attack, information should be obtained on the following points:

i. The extent of the position.
ii. The weak parts of the position.
iii. Any point or points the capture of which will facilitate the development of a searching enfilade or reverse fire against a large extent of the position, and thus remit it untenable; and to what extent such point or points have been strengthened.
iv. The best line of attack, and the tactical points of which the possession will favour the development of an effective fire against the weak parts of the position.
v. Localities from which covering fire can be directed

2. When it is intended to occupy a defensive position, the chief points to be noted are :

i. The best distribution of the infantry, and the means of protecting the flanks,
ii. The positions for the artillery,
iii. The positions which the enemy may endeavour to seize in order to develop an effective fire against the position,
iv. The probable positions of the enemy's artillery.
v. Any points the possession of which might exert a decisive influence on the issue of the fight.
vi. The most favourable lines of attack,
vii. The most favourable ground for the counter-attack,
viii. Ground to be occupied by the general reserve, by the cavalry, and by the other mounted troops.
ix. Positions to be occupied in case of retreat.

But there was more to her project than simply assembling this inventory of vital geographic information. Martha needed to test herself. This was no simple reconnaisance. This was Exploration!

A pilgrimage...an investigation of Body and Soul. The Soul and the essential meaning of the Landscape too. Out there, she knew, the local Native Indian shamen and workers of magic had trod. More recent searchers had come for gold. The Natomas area was, she had read, once spread with scattered and transitory gold mining camps. Along these roads, by these streams and in these woods, people had prayed and worshipped. Had they left behind traces in the psychic archaeology of the landscape? She hoped to discover if they had. What geomantic wonders lay ahead? What would the psychogeography of the Domain reveal?

Martha, seeing the paradoxical privacy offered by the open fields at this crossroads and the night time of the hinterland, modestly lifted her gymslip. Looking about, just to be sure, she took time to rub at her crippled thigh and correct the ancient leather strap that held her false leg to her stump. Her frown as she tried to ease the discomfort there was replaced by a laugh as she pondered Chapter VI, Paragraph 12:

Transmission of information - Intelligence can be transmitted from dirigibles either by wireless, by signalling, or by carrier pigeon. The dirigible can also sail back to some point marked by day by a signal balloon, or by sheets or white bags of sand placed on an open piece on the ground, and by night by a captive balloon, a searchlight beam, or some arrangement of lights on the earth. Here a descent can be made, or packets can be dropped containing written reports, marked maps, photographs, sketches, etc..."

She looked up, still rubbing her leg, and checked the skies. There were no dirigibles aloft tonight.

Lowering her long skirt, Martha tried not to grow weary of her preperation. Pausing, she made a Vow to herself: I shall circuit the perimeter of the Domain; vault each hurdle; run each mile and to swim each channel or stream. I shall examine each road and byway. I will, as the manuals demand, Master the Territory. I shall, she further planned, investigate the geomancy of this Domain...this will be my first reconnoitre and Test. There will be others until I have travelled the whole Domain...until I know it well.

Martha began her limping, unsteady, jog. Each step was soon stabbing agony...a test. She began to appreciate the meaning of this exploration of her own limits and those of the Domain.

Each step, she decided, would help make both herself and the Domain that much stronger...perhaps even wiser.

With a determined frown, Martha jogged and studied the topography hard. The terrain was to her advantage. Flat...easy to traverse.

At this boundary the road was long and straight...but not without interest. Here was a roadside highway high mileage marker. Here she passed some small Natomas water channels. Built by the Natomas Water Company...not far away she could see a squat, solid looking, building: a Natomas Co. pumping station and, just along the road to the north, the local Natomas headquarters...she jogged a few yards up the sun hardened track to look closer at the security fence of the pumping station...pausing to kneel to see if she can learn anything from the rutted tyre tracks in the packed dirt...then back to the main road.

She jogged passed the small shallow channels dug as water detention reservoirs. Her preparatory reading told her this was all part of some elegant and newly developed FEMA scheme to protect the Sacramento watershed in the event of a 100 year flooding event and help irrigate the local farm land.

She noted the structure and construction, as best she could, of the three lane stretch of Highway 99 clover-leaf overpass. As she jogged on a detour to investigate nearby Willow Park, her hip and what remained of her thigh were now solid with pain. She was glad to slow down as she saw the modern looking bridge, near Natomas Boulevard, which spanned the East Drainage Channel.

Movement over almost any ground, indeed!...Ah! My first real obstacle and test!

Ignoring the walkway that allowed pedestrians to cross with vehicles, Martha limped and skipped down to the bank of the river channel. The low barrier intended to prevent people from falling down into the river was broken, whole sections had collapsed. Weeds and litter had entangled the old fencing posts. Stepping over the fallen section of barrier, she paused at the edge of the embankment.

The channel was not too wide, she knew it wasn't too deep either...perhaps seven, nine feet deep...she estimated it's width to be about 25, maybe 30 feet. The concrete bridge adjacent looked filthy, the channel itself was chocked with debris. Scattered planks of the barriers, stolen from road workings, jutted from the weed clogged bank and water. Bobbing or crumpled empty plastic bottles lay in the shallow water with the reeds. A few bare and broken boughs torn from trees from far up the channel floated by. A long green cloak of ripped tarpaulin was trapped on a half submerged sign which forbid bathing.

Gripping her hat and clutching at her satchel, she edged her way down the bank to the water...litter and garbage of all types impeded her path. Several rats squeaked and darted out of her way to take shelter in the sparse undergrowth.

Stepping gingerly around an old, sun cracked plastic sack of refuse, Martha's lame leg gave way. The bank beneath her was steep. Her leg buckled. She fell into the dust and dirt of the river bank...a sliding skid took her, with a muffled yelp, into the edge of the murky waters of the channel. Her battered and slightly torn clothes were now heavy. They billowed with trapped air and bubbles formed all about. Her swimming was not strong, but she quickly gathered her thoughts and, hoping her leg was not damaged by the hard fall, she began to try to right herself.

She had practised her swimming but, immersed in dark water, she had to struggle with fronds of strangling weeds that snatched at her feet as she kicked into the water. Pouting, she tried for the other side.

Fearing the current would take her under the bridge, she struck out harder. Keeping her eye on the opposite bank she picked her landing spot. Success! Scrambling, clutching at the reeds that clung to the river bank, she pulled herself half out of the water. Secure any bridges...

The river had claimed her hat.

A night bird called out in the distance. She looked up to watch an aeroplane begin its descent to the airport. The whine of its jets changed pitch as the power of the engine shifted to accomplish the landing. To keep the advice of field discipline, Martha crouched low, trying to hide in the reeds and the shadows of the bridge as she studied the aeroplane's flight and was struck by the beauty of the ruby and emerald undercarriage and wingtip navigation lamps.

Muddy and wet, her leg aching. The aeroplane had now passed overhead. Her hands grasped again at the purchases of the higher bank. She scrambled out of the weeds around more litter up the bank and to the safety barrier at the edge. Martha hauled her stiff leg over the low barrier and scrambled over onto the opposite roadside.

She paused to wring cold water out her gymslip; looking up to check for threat and study the terrain. Examining the local landmarks. Committing them to memory: the bridge..the distant flashing of the warning lamps on the radar and transponder masts by the landing strip and the even more distant radio towers to the north west.

Crouching painfully she poured river water from her shoes and satchel and took time to shift her sense of perception to the realm of supernature...reaching out with the power of Auspex. Trying to gain a feeling of the geomantic potential of this channel and the safety it offered the city from flood.

Keeping as far as possible to the sparse shadows, she jogged into a wide, clean and outwardly dull suburban street which marked the sixth mile of her exploration. Martha rebuked herself as she painfully jogged by another carefully parked silver grey SUV. To the rhythm of her limping trot, Martha reminded herself of two key lessons: appearances can be deceptive - and that time spent in reconnaissance is seldom wasted.



(Reference and bibliographic note: All extracts are taken from the "Field Regulations of the British Army: Operation" as issued by the Army Council in 1909...and thereby long since out of Copyright.)