Alex Scarrow - The Eternal War

He put his notes down and reached for his bowl of stew. He hungrily spooned in a mouthful.

‘So, that as far as you got?’ asked Sal.

He nodded, his mouth full. ‘I’mnnn goinnnnn to mmmeeeed sommme mooore ’ater ommm,’ he sputtered, juice dribbling down his chin.

Lincoln gazed into the flames in front of him. ‘I have, I must admit, not dwelled a great deal on the notion of slavery. Just that it is the way of things. The order of things. That a white man is better suited to spend his time on matters of the mind, the black man to be merely a beast of burden. Just like a farmyard, every beast has its particular role to — ’

‘Chuddah!’ Sal’s jaw hung open. ‘How could you actually believe something like that?’

Lincoln stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully. ‘It is a commonly held perception. After all it is white men who enslaved black men with their superior technology. Is history not the story of more advanced races and civilizations conquering other — ’

‘Oh, right! Does that make me a beast of burden?’ she said sharply. ‘Because my skin’s brown?’

‘On the contrary.’ He shrugged casually and offered her a well-intended smile. ‘Despite your brown skin — being a half-negro? A mulatto ? — it seems quite clear to me that you are in fact a very bright child. I — ’

Liam winced at Lincoln’s choice of words.

‘Ughh! I don’t have to listen to this!’ Sal placed her bowl of stew on the floor and stood up. ‘People like you don’t exist in my time! It may not be such a great time but at least we don’t have to listen to … to ignorant pinchudda like that!’ She turned away and stormed out of the kitchen.

Lincoln looked at Liam, perplexed. ‘What is the matter with the girl?’

‘The way you said what you said. It … well, it could’ve come out sounding better.’

Lincoln’s brow lowered into a dark scowl as his gaze returned to the fire. ‘I meant praise by what I said.’

Liam finished his stew and set his bowl down. ‘We should all get some sleep if we’re to get going again tonight.’ He got up. ‘Bob, how long have we got until it’s dark?’

‘Four hours and fifty-two minutes, Liam.’

‘All right, will you wake us up then?’

‘Affirmative.’

Liam headed out of the kitchen’s back door into the weed-strewn yard to find Sal sitting on a squeaking swing.

‘You all right?’

‘He’s a racist!’

Liam stood beside the frame. He rested his hand on its paint-flecked surface and felt its unsteady sway. ‘He’s from 1831. That’s the way people speak and think back then. They didn’t know any better. He didn’t mean anything nasty by it.’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve never been … never had something like that said to me before!’ She looked up at him. ‘I feel like he’s just rubbished me … my parents … everyone I’ve ever known, just by saying what he said. Judging people by the colour of their skin!’

‘I think he was trying to be kind.’

‘ Kind?! Jahulla …’

Liam shrugged. ‘Ah well, I’ve been mistaken for Welsh before, would you believe? I’ve heard many a silly Englishman lump us Irish, north and south, Welsh and Scottish even, altogether in the same pot. Imagine that?’

And many an Irishman confused the Chinese with Japanese , he mused. Quite probably many a Chineseman confused Turks with Persians; and many a Persian confused Celts with Saxons.

He reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Come on, Sal. Let’s go back inside. We need to get a little rest, so we do … before we start out tonight.’

2001, New York

‘You realize, young lady, that this is the dead zone?’ said Colonel Devereau.

She stopped and turned. ‘Dead zone?’

He pointed across the landscape of ruins leading down towards the East River. Beyond the river’s smooth dark water lay the skeleton of Manhattan. ‘We’re just about within range of their snipers. One of them might try and take a potshot if he’s bored enough.’

‘ What? ’ Maddy ducked down to the ground, her bound hands crossed over her head. Neither Devereau nor any of the other soldiers moved. A murmur of laughter rippled up and down the patrol line as they watched her fidgeting on her haunches.

‘Relax,’ he said. ‘It’s well beyond accurate range. All the same …’

He took off his forage cap, reached to his side and unclipped a carbine bayonet, popped the hat on the tip and raised his arm, sweeping the hat slowly in a figure of eight.

‘What are you doing?’ hissed Maddy. ‘You’re attracting attention!’

‘Indeed … I’m signalling the enemy.’

Maddy looked up at him as he stepped forward across the rubble, up on to the top of the low uneven wall of loose bricks. In the stillness, broken only by the tidal lapping of poisoned water nearby, she expected a shot to ring out and this reckless officer to drop, headless, like a butcher’s carcass.

Across the river, her eyes picked out faint movement, the glint of metal.

‘There,’ he said, stepping down. ‘They’ll spread the word on their side. We should be safe from potshots for a while.’

‘But — ’ she got to her feet — ‘but that’s the enemy , isn’t it?’

‘I know the colonel over there. Pleasant enough fellow.’

‘Know him?’

He sighed. ‘We’ve been staring over this wretched river at each other for years. Decades, actually. We meet once a year … for Thanksgiving.’ He turned to his men. ‘Don’t we, Sergeant Freeman?’

She recognized the bearded man who’d found her earlier this morning. ‘Aye, sir.’

‘A chance for the boys on both sides to let their hair down.’ Devereau pulled up some field glasses and inspected the Southern lines briefly. ‘In fact, a … couple of years ago, East River froze right over … the lads had a snowball fight.’

‘Whupped ’em good too,’ said Sergeant Freeman, grinning.

‘Indeed we did.’ He lowered his field glasses. ‘A good day,’ he added wistfully. He turned to her. ‘Now then, you say your “base” is here somewhere. And this miraculous time-travelling device of yours?’

She heard barely concealed amusement in his voice.

He’s humouring himself. For a moment she wondered what her fate was going to be if she failed to convince him that the broken machinery in the archway was what she said it was.

And what about Becks? Presumably she was still sitting inside awaiting further orders, or perhaps she was nearby, watching them even now. She wondered how the support unit would act once she spotted Maddy in cuffs being led towards the archway by men with weapons.

‘It’s around here somewhere,’ she said, looking across the wasteland towards the collapsed remains of the Williamsburg Bridge. That was her only way of orienting herself. The only landmark she could recognize. ‘Not too far from the support-works of that bridge over there.’

‘Right.’

‘I have a … a friend over there, though.’

Devereau looked at her sternly. ‘You’re not alone?’

‘Look, she’s not a spy either.’

‘Is she armed?’

Maddy shook her head. ‘No … no weapons, but she … well … she can be dangerous .’

Devereau seemed amused by that. ‘Twenty men … I think between us we can handle an unarmed woman.’

‘No … really,’ said Maddy, ‘trust me, she’s really nothing like me. She, well, she can be kind of deadly. I should call out to her first. Let her know it’s OK.’

The colonel eyed her suspiciously for a moment.

‘I won’t call out for her to run or anything … I promise.’