The Eternal War

Liam looked at the others. ‘Uhh … who thinks we better go?’

Sal nodded. She popped the leather cap back on and managed to snap one of the clips in place before the eugenic stirred. Its small eyes twitched and flickered and then focused on Sal for a moment.

‘Oh Jay-zus!’ whispered Liam. ‘It’s woken up!’ Liam pulled Sal back and stood in front of her. ‘Easy … there, big fella …’ His voice trembled.

The creature slowly pulled itself to its feet and stood erect for a moment, easily two foot taller than Bob. Its all-black eyes, small and glistening like a spider’s, seemed to be studying them without the tiniest hint of curiosity. Then without any warning it turned round and pushed its way through the gap between the nearest two apple trees.

Liam ducked down low under the branches and peered out after it to see the creature push through another row of trees into an area of the orchard busy being harvested. He saw a dozen others like it, leviathan-sized eugenics assembling around one end of what appeared to be some sort of combine-harvester.

In the sky half a mile away, he saw a sky vessel was slowly approaching, descending. Just like the farming operation they’d seen in action a week ago.

He looked back at the enormous eugenic workers. The sheer size of this particular type … they made Bob look pitifully small. ‘We’ve not seen this kind before,’ said Liam.

‘We should proceed,’ said Bob, hunkering down beside Liam. ‘We have twenty-one miles to the rendezvous location.’

Liam nodded. ‘You’re right.’

CHAPTER 75

2001, New York

Maddy spat grit out of her mouth. ‘Oh my God, that was close!’

The artillery barrage began several hours after the British had arrived, just as Colonel Devereau had said it would. With every percussive thump of a shell landing on this side of the river, the archway seemed to shower on them more dust and particles of brick. They were partly protected from a direct hit by the mangled remains of the bridge overhanging them … but the way their roof seemed to be shedding pieces, she had no doubt a near enough miss would do as good a job as a direct hit.

She picked up the computer keyboard in front of her and turned it over, pouring dust and grit out from between the keys on to the desk.

‘Jeeez … I’m surprised anything’s still working in here!’

Her words were lost beneath another nearby thump that unleashed a shower of debris from above. Ten minutes of this bombardment so far and already Maddy’s nerves were jangling.

One hit … just one … and I’m going to be entombed beneath an avalanche of bricks.

She had half a mind to leave the archway and stand outside in the trenches. At least she’d not die by being crushed. Becks was sitting beside the displacement machine, protecting the rack of circuit boards from falling fragments. The computer keyboard in front of her might still work with nuggets of brick lodged inside it, thought Maddy, but she doubted the fragile electronics of the displacement machine would be quite so forgiving.

And what about the antennae array, outside? If it got knocked, they’d have to reset it. Go outside, stand on the crumbling roof and recalibrate it, or God knows how off-target their window was going to be.

Worst still. What about a hit on that old rust-bucket tank outside, still loyally chugging away? No tank, no power. They’d be as good as dead in the water.

‘Becks!’

‘Yes, Maddy?’

‘There’s no way we’re going to survive two days of this!’ Another heavy thump deposited a shower of debris on Maddy’s head. She spat out grit and shook her head, sending another smaller shower of dust out of her hair and on to her lap.

‘We need to open the window now!’

‘We can’t do that, Maddy. They may not be at the rendezvous coordinates yet.’

Becks — Queen of the Freakin’ Obvious.

‘I know that … I know that … but … we’ve got to do something before we get hit!’

Both Becks and Bob had a local wireless range, but neither of them could transmit a message to each other across more than a mile or two at best.

‘Information: the chances of a direct artillery hit are relatively low, Maddy. Equipment failure is far more likely to occur as a result of the cumulative impact vibrations.’

‘Well, there you go! We need to do something … soon!’

Becks had nothing to offer. Another thud sent the monitors blinking out. A moment later they all flickered back on.

‘Oh, this is totally not good, Becks. We’ve got to do something!’

She looked around her desk for inspiration.

Come on … come on. What? What do I do?

They should send a message to Bob and the others. Let them know they needed to speed things up, open the window much sooner than arranged. At this rate, in two days’ time, there wasn’t going to be an archway left — nor trenches, nor troops. Just a pockmarked wasteland of brand-new craters.

‘Computer-Bob!’

The dialogue box appeared in front of her.

› Yes, Maddy?

‘New message for Bob …’

› Proceed.

‘Archway under attack … need to open window at stated coordinates much sooner.’ She bit her lip.

How much more of this can the equipment take? Another few minutes, hours?

But then that question was balanced by another equally important one: how far away were Liam and the others from the extraction point? There was simply no knowing. It’s quite possible they were very close … after all, she’d picked a place roughly two-thirds of the way up from Quantico to New York, and a dozen miles westwards off the main highways. Somewhere quiet. They might have been very close when they got the message … they just might. And that message was sent about eighteen hours ago.

They could be waiting right there, twiddling their thumbs, waiting impatiently for the window to open. On the other hand, they might be fifty, or a hundred miles away, struggling desperately to make it there in time.

‘Window to open in ten minutes’ time!’ said Maddy. ‘End of message.’

› Affirmative. Compiling message packet.

‘Maddy,’ called out Becks. ‘If we open a window in ten minutes’ time, then it will take approximately another twelve hours to recharge the machine for a second attempt.’

Maddy winced and cursed. She knew that anyway. Becks was right. They couldn’t afford to panic and blow their accumulated charge. She glanced across at the rack and could see all twelve green LEDs lit up. A full charge and that had taken them the whole night and most of today with that poor old tank rattling away.

‘Computer-Bob … cancel that. New message!’

› Message cancelled. I am ready for your new message, Maddy.

‘All right … OK, the message is this: archway is under attack. Proceed to coordinates as fast as you freakin’ well can! Will watch for you with pinhole probe. Will open as soon as we see you. End of message.’

› Affirmative. Compiling message packet.

She turned to Becks. ‘We’ll open a pinhole window now and grab an image … and if they’re not there, we’ll do it again in another … say … half an hour’s time. And again … and again …’

‘This will drain the power.’

‘So sue me!’ she snapped. Then grimaced guiltily; Becks was only doing her job. ‘This way, we’ll at least get