The Eternal War

‘Easy there, big fella,’ whispered Liam, and patted Bob’s side.

He could just about make out several dozen bulky four-legged beasts … but certainly not horses, as he’d first thought. They seemed to be heavy up front by the look of their faint silhouettes, with much more slender hindquarters. He squinted into the mist and the dancing flakes of snow, beginning to thin now as the sound of venting jets ceased.

He heard an ooofff of exertion from someone and the soft thud of boots on the ground. A figure was approaching them.

‘Uh? Hello over there?’ The figure drew close enough for Liam to see it was a man in a well-tailored army uniform.

‘Ahhh … there you are!’

He drew up in front of them, a trim man in his late twenties. Beneath the pointed peak of his white pith helmet Liam could see a clean-shaven face with a friendly smile spread across features that seemed artfully chiselled specifically to melt the hearts of women. He was wearing a smart crimson tunic with brass buttons that led down to an equipment belt cinched tightly round his waist.

‘Best not to run, gents,’ he said, and offered a hand in a crisp white glove. ‘Captain Ewan McManus. Third Company, Fourth Battalion, Black Watch Regiment.’

Liam offered his hand. ‘Uh … hello.’

‘I suspect you chaps have just had a nasty run-in, haven’t you?’ He cocked his head. ‘Some bother, was it?’

Liam nodded. The last few moments of shock, confusion, dismay, bewilderment were beginning to blow away like the thinning mist around them. He remembered Sal was out there, perhaps nearby still.

‘Yes! Oh Jay-zus! They took our friend. They …’ He was saying ‘they’ but he hadn’t the slightest idea what ‘they’ were.

‘Dammit! That’s not good news.’ Captain McManus grimaced. ‘You’re saying they’ve taken captives?’

‘Yes! She’s just a young girl, a child, really! And another one, a man. They were here just minutes ago … minutes ago!’

‘I know,’ said McManus. ‘We’ve been on their trail. Animals. We think it’s these ones. They raided a farm town about a dozen miles west of here earlier this afternoon. Awful mess. A blood bath. Killed the lot of them. Women, children.’

The officer turned round and cupped his mouth. ‘White Bear, up here, please!’

Over the man’s shoulder Liam could see a platoon of soldiers in similar tall helmets and red tunics sitting astride those beasts that he’d yet to actually identify. One of the men hastily dismounted and hurried forward to join them. He had long black hair in braids and dark skin pebble-dashed with faint smallpox scars.

‘Chief?’

‘White Bear’s our tracker. He’s a Mohawk. Absolutely the very best,’ assured McManus. He turned to the Indian. ‘Get me a heading. We’re going to follow them on the ground. All right?’

‘Dah.’ White Bear nodded and trotted off towards the farmhouse.

‘I suspect they’re heading north-east towards the Dead City. That’s where others of their kind have headed to in the past. We’ll do our best to catch them before they get in there.’

‘What are they?’ asked Liam.

The officer looked at him, surprised. ‘You don’t know?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I thought they were …’ He didn’t know where to begin. Monsters? Demons? He ended up offering a confused, harried shrug. ‘Me and Bob … we’re sort of new here.’

McManus looked up at Bob, acknowledging him for the first time. ‘Good grief, you’re a big chap!’ He turned back to Liam. ‘Jolly big, isn’t he?’

Liam nodded impatiently — like he needed to be told that. ‘Those things? Those creatures?’

‘Well now … yes, I suppose you must have at least read about this in the papers. That we’re using some more experimental types of genics to work on the plantations over here.’ He shook his head. ‘The Evening Times and the other newspapers were ranting about that when we were shipping out from London. We’ve had simple-minded eugenics working in factories and farms back home for ages, but these recent innovations — the dextrous hands with thumbs, and the larger brains; awfully clever stuff, if you ask me — well, that’s become a heated issue. They don’t like it, the idea of genics being smart enough to change the oil on an auto-locomotion engine, or being able to write their name.’

McManus looked at them. ‘But you must know about that, of course?’

Liam nodded convincingly. ‘Sure … yeah, of course.’

‘So,’ the officer continued, ‘we’re trying out these more advanced types over here in the southern states. Generally these smarter genics are really jolly good. Very impressive, actually. But we do get problems every now and then. They can flip out occasionally and turn exceedingly nasty.’

The officer suddenly shook his head with disgust at himself. ‘I’m sorry, awfully rude … I didn’t manage to get your names?’

‘I’m Liam, Liam O’Connor. And the big fella here is Bob.’

McManus offered Bob his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Bob and Liam. Now look … we’re going to try and run these genics down before they get to the city’s outskirts. We’ll do what we can to get your friends back … but — I’m not going to tell you a lie — they can be very unpredictable.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Liam.

McManus shook his head. ‘They can be gentle, tender, loving even. Then without any warning at all, without any reason, they can turn on you. Be quite deadly, in fact. There’s no knowing what sets them off.’ He looked at the trickle of drying blood running down from Liam’s temple and gestured at the gigantic vessel looming over them. ‘There’s a regimental surgeon aboard the ship type. I suggest you go aboard and let him have a look at you. And we shall go and — ’

Liam shook his head. ‘No … I need to find her! Please! I have to come along!’

Bob nodded. ‘Affirmative. Enough time has already been wasted. We cannot lose them.’

The officer looked at them both, silently.

‘She’s my sister,’ said Liam finally, desperately. He tossed a hooded glance at Bob. ‘Both of our … sister. Isn’t she?’

Bob acknowledged that with an unconvincing nod. ‘Yes. We are … family.’

‘Your sister?’ McManus frowned circumspectly. ‘Hmm … I shouldn’t really do this, allow civilians along.’ He stroked his chin. ‘But … well, yes … missing family, you want to do all that you can to find them, don’t you?’

Liam nodded. ‘We won’t get in your way. We just want to find her! And our friend.’

McManus summoned one of his men. ‘Sergeant Cope? These two civvies shall be joining us. Clear some saddle space for them, will you?’

The sergeant, eyes dark beneath the brim of his helmet, and the rest of his face lost behind a large walrus moustache, nodded briskly. ‘Right you are, sir!’

McManus turned back to Liam and Bob. ‘You’ve ridden a huff?’

‘Huff?’

‘A huffalo?’ He shook his head. ‘Not to worry, you’ll be riding rear-saddle.’ He glanced at Bob. ‘Going to need to pick a jolly big one for you, though.’

At that moment the Indian tracker — White Bear — emerged from the farmhouse and jogged across to Captain McManus.

‘They go north-east.’ He gestured past the building towards the gravel road on which Liam and the others had entered the hamlet earlier that day. ‘Tracks go that way.’

‘How many do you think, White Bear?’

‘Fifty. Maybe more. Many different ones. Some big. Some small.’ He glanced quickly at Liam and Bob then back at his commanding officer. ‘Only one human track. Man, I think.’

Liam looked alarmed and the young officer raised a hand to calm him. ‘That may just mean they’re carrying your sister. To move along faster, you see?’ McManus turned to his men. ‘Platoon! Ready your mounts!’ And then he tugged something down from the side of his helmet, a padded leather pouch that settled over his ear. From that he