Alex Scarrow - The Eternal War

His tone changed, his expression changed, a little more hopeful. ‘So tell me, then, what piece of mysterious machinery is it that you need to fix this time-travelling device of yours?’

2001, somewhere in Virginia

‘ What? Did he just say we lost them?’ Liam swung a leg over the back saddle of the huff and dropped down on to the ground. The creature — half buffalo, half horse — snorted irritably at his sudden ungainly dismount.

Captain McManus nodded. ‘Yes, it seems we have. Clever creatures, these ones. They split up and one group left a dead-end trail for us to follow.’

White Bear, on his haunches studying footprints in the hard soil, nodded. He looked up at them. ‘They very smart.’ He shook his head, disgusted with himself. ‘Trick me.’

McManus patted the Indian’s shoulder. ‘It’s OK, White Bear. We’ll pick their trail up again in the morning.’

Liam stepped forward. ‘You can’t stop now!’

‘Yes, we can … and we should. We’ve lost them. We’ll end up spending the night chasing shadows and have nothing to show for it come sunrise.’

‘But … they’re going to get away! Please! We have to — ’

‘We’ll make camp here. First light — ’ he tapped the earpiece in his helmet — ‘I’m calling in the regimental carrier. We’ll have some more hooves and boots on the ground. I assure you, we’re going to find them.’

‘Find them?’ Liam’s voice rose, angry, exasperated. ‘But you’ve just lost them!’

‘On the contrary, Mr O’Connor, I’m almost certain they’re headed that way,’ he said, pointing to the horizon. ‘I’d say it’s less than ten miles from here.’

‘What is?’

‘The Dead City, what used to be known as Baltimore . We’ve had genics go rogue on us before … that’s where they tend to head. They know we prefer to steer clear.’

‘Why?’

‘Surely you know?’ He shook his head. ‘Good God, where exactly have you spent your entire life, Mr O’Connor?’

‘I just … I …’ Liam shrugged, ‘a priory. Kirklees Priory.’

‘Ah, Catholic, are you?’

‘Aye, something like that.’ Liam nodded impatiently. ‘What’s wrong with this city?’

‘The North poisoned it with virals. Killed thousands of innocent civilians with Habsburg’s disease. I know it’s been nearly twenty years since then, but they say the rats and wild dogs carry the spores. You really wouldn’t want to go in there if you can help it. That’s why the feral genics use it as a refuge.’

‘I’ll go in! Me and Bob, we’ll go — ’

McManus patted his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. If that’s where they’ve gone, and I do suspect it is, I shall be taking a company in there to flush those vermin out. My boys are all inoculated against Habsburg. We’ll find them all right. Now, if you don’t mind, matters to attend to …’ McManus turned away from Liam and began issuing orders to his walrus-faced sergeant who barked them out again in a parade-ground voice. The platoon dismounted and began to make preparations to camp where they were for the night.

Bob joined Liam. ‘McManus is tactically correct with this decision, Liam.’

‘But — ’ Liam balled his fists — ‘she’s out there. She needs us!’

‘Both of them are. It is our mission priority to retrieve them both .’ Bob was right, of course. They needed Lincoln to be alive too, if they had any hope of putting history back where it belonged.

Bob had a go at a reassuring wink. ‘I calculate a high degree of certainty that we will retrieve them unharmed.’

Liam looked up at the support unit and realized he was doing his best to be supportive. Even though his mind was little more than looping strings of computer code, somewhere inside his coconut computer head was a friend, reaching out and trying to help.

‘Yeah … maybe you’re right, you big ape.’

2001, somewhere in Virginia

The tea was good. Strong and steaming. Liam gulped it down despite the heat scorching his throat. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was.

A brazier glowed in the middle of the field — a harvested field, rows of severed stalks flattened by army boots and the hoofs of two dozen one-ton huffalos, now tethered together in a surly huddle of muscle and hide, lowing and snorting.

Four soldiers stood guard, staring out into the darkness, the rest of the platoon wrapped in thick woollen ponchos. Most of them, used to the rigours of army life, were taking full advantage of the few hours of dark left and already fast asleep.

Captain McManus reached for the metal pot hanging from a metal frame over the glowing coals in the brazier. He topped up Liam’s enamel mug.

‘Thank you.’

‘My favourite time of the day,’ said McManus as he sipped his tea. ‘The few hours before dawn. There’s a wonderful tone to the sky just before sunrise. Especially such places like Asia Minor.’ He shrugged. ‘Afghanistan … very nice. The sky’s almost a vanilla colour before dawn.’

‘It’s almost always a grey dawn in Cork,’ said Liam.

‘Ahhh … now.’ McManus grinned and wagged a finger. ‘I knew there was a slice of Irish in your accent, Liam O’Connor. Just couldn’t quite place it.’

‘Well, some of it’s rubbed off. Recently, I’ve been living — sort of — with a girl from Boston.’ He shrugged. ‘And a girl from India.’

McManus looked at him, cocked his head curiously. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, you really are quite the strangest fellow I’ve met in a good long time.’

Liam hunched his shoulders. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’

‘You seem, I don’t know — you may laugh at this — you seem to me like a Rip van Winkle. As if you’ve slept all your life. How is it that you seem to know so little of world affairs? Do you not read the papers?’

‘Like I said, me and Bob, we’ve been away in a priory. On our own. Me mother died recently so we came home to care for Sal. And, well, the three of us finally decided to … uh … to see some of the world together, you know?’

‘Well, you’ve not chosen the best place in the world to start your travels, Liam. The American War here may have ground to a halt in recent years, but …’ McManus looked cautiously around before continuing with a slightly lowered voice. ‘There are rumours flying about that that’s going to change.’

Liam perked up, his eyes off the smouldering coals. ‘What do you mean?’

McManus stroked his smooth chin. ‘It’s no big secret, Liam. This particular war is losing popular support back home. The British people are weary of it. War. It’s all anyone in Britain has known.’ McManus, warmed enough by the brazier, unbuttoned his tunic collar. ‘We have so many different wars going on at the moment, you understand? We’re fighting separatists in northern India, bandit militias in our African colonies, tribal war-bands in Afghanistan, Persia. I can’t tell you how many dusty little backwaters my lads and I have seen action in.’

He shook his head sadly, his eyes lost in the glowing embers. ‘And it’s always the same brutality, the same mindless cruelty. One tribe of savages hacking the next to bits. And always, always , it’s the women and children who die first. I … I’ve seen things, Liam, some quite horrible things.’

Liam regarded the young officer’s face, saw eyes that all of a sudden looked far older than they should. ‘You sound like you’ve seen more than enough fighting.’

McManus shrugged. ‘I can fight any number of battles. I can stand on a battlefield alongside my men and stare down another army,’ he smiled. ‘I’m a soldier, that’s exactly what I’m trained for. But …’