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  "But you send out scouts or maybe explorers to find out if there’s gold in the hills." Linda said crisply.

  "Two days." Mary said suddenly. "It’s two days since the lander went up! Any one near the big river would have heard the bang."

  "Yeah." Bradley breathed. "So they send out these two to find out what goes on." He looked up at the girl who was staring at him, fascinated by his black face.

  "Right." I agreed with Bradley. "They’ve been following us, we’ve left a trail like an elephant."

  We all looked at her, the thought that her and her homicidal man had been on our track for days causing frowning alarm. "But why did he decide to try and take us out? Eh? You thought of that?" Mike put his hands on the map. "Suppose we’re going in a direction they don’t want?"

  "How can we know?" I removed his hands from the map and rolled it up. "Time we got this show moving."

  Bradley was the most at home in close country, he was good. He was the rear guard. I led off with an interval as far as the line of sight allowed. Mike kept his eye on me and the three women carried our meagre supplies in the middle. Miss Melanee, her legs free but her hands tied, followed unhappily just behind me. It was not an arrangement that I was mad about, but she could be useful.

  We put her in one of the spare shirts (much too big for her) to stop Mike’s attention from wandering. We washed her first, an operation that she seemed pleased about, and now she looked like one of us from the knees up. With her mass of black hair and regular features, she would have caused a traffic jam in the old days, but we had no time for appreciation, so I made her understand that any attempt to depart without permission would be most unpopular.

  In this manner, we made steady progress, twisting and turning through the tall trunks, bars of sunlight from an increasingly hot day streaming down like yellow searchlights. Oddly, the further we went, the more interested she became, looking around her, even peering at plants. Coming to a wild orange tree, I shook the branches, catching oranges which we all sucked with enthusiasm. I cut one in half and rammed it against her mouth, her eyes regarding me over the mess with enigmatic lustre.

  Linda was keeping track of our progress on the data box and announced after some hours that we were only six miles short of the objective. We needed water which appeared conveniently after another ten minutes, in the shape of a narrow but energetic stream that fell across the flat ground, gushing attractively. Following this, we came to a small clearing with the now expected pile of stones almost buried in greenery.

  Leaving them to set up camp with a good deal more caution than before, I cast around to see the sights. There had been no signs of any human presence during our long slog on this hot day. Not that I claimed to have the abilities of an Indian Scout, but a certain amount of training plus a bullet wound in the shoulder had given me a moderate expertise. Linda had often asked about the scar but not wishing to disillusion her about my past life, I explained how car crashes produce odd results. Besides, my soldiers sixth sense told me we had no company. All right, why hadn’t it said anything about those two following us for days? I hadn’t switched it on then but now the feeling that something was crawling over your skin which told me some one was peering at me over rifle sights hadn’t arrived, ergo there was no one around. Comforted by this contorted piece of logic, I drifted around the area in the shadowy woodlands where dusk was making shapes loom and night creatures stir.

  We needed more meat. Plenty of tracks proved that something was busy eating juicy roots and away from the sounds and smells of the camp I settled down to watch, keeping the faint breeze on my face as I squatted close to tracks. A regular path, not the first I had seen today, snaked between trees, disappearing out of sight in twenty yards. Long minutes passed, the darkness deepening as the sun fell below the hills surrounding us. A snuffling sound arrived, materialising into a formidable looking beast with massive tusks and a suspicious nature because it stopped and peered round. Squeaking proclaimed smaller fry, just the ticket. The sow was big and nervous and became much more active after I put two rounds through the head of the piglet. Several other piglets let out loud squeals, but she produced a furious bellow and charged. Skipping smartly behind the trunk of the tree I was lurking by, I let the squat, dangerous beast roar by like an angry train, a cloud of leaf litter and shredded undergrowth following her like a comet's tail. Scooping up the piglet, I scuttled from tree to tree and listened to the maternal instincts thrashing themselves through the woods. I knew wild boars were damned dangerous and rifle rounds had been known to ricochet off their thick skulls, but she had several more children running around, and I reckoned she would sooner keep them alive than chase me too far.

  She gave me a hard time. I didn’t want to kill her unless I had to but twice she charged and narrowly missed so I had to do a Tarzan act and climb a tree. She let out a menacing grunt and loitered with intent but plaintive squealing in the middle distance plus a rumble of noise from some other night time denizen of this unnatural forest recalled her to her duty and she trotted off. Ten minutes later I could see our fire.

  "What the hell...?" Bradley greeted me with a rifle and an unfriendly glare. Dumping the supper for attention, I let the surprised chatter flow over my head and dunked myself in the stream which was alarmingly cold. Spluttering, I felt Linda’s hand and looked up to see her laughing.

  "They were scared rigid." She explained unkindly. "The gunfire. They thought you had met the Indians."

  "I nearly met my ancestors." I said, drying off by the fire, watching as they rapidly disemboweled and skewered the piglet. The cooking operation, competently handled by Bradley and Hilary passed in hungry anticipation as I dozed, leaning on Linda.

  "Here," she gave me a strong nudge, waving a steaming lump of piglet on a large leaf plus a handful of greenery under my nose. "Wild lettuce, Bradley found it. There’s roots but we need to cook them, and we haven’t got any cooking vessel."

  Munching the delicious meat, I was aware of the captive's eyes on me. "She knows about guns." Bradley said indistinctly through a mouthful of pork. "She knows they are weapons."

  I grunted, thinking it wasn’t too difficult to work out. "Untie her, I’m not going to feed her like a pet monkey."

  "She’ll run." Hilary said, her dark eyes watching me. "You going to shoot her if she does?"

  "I don’t think so." I said mildly. "Run, I mean. I don’t think she knows where she is."

  "Yeah." Hilary nodded. "You could be right, soldier boy. I been watching her all day. How far we come? Seven, eight miles? We got a compass but they don’t and she was looking round her all the time."

  "Which reminds me." Linda said, fishing out the data box. "Ship should be overhead."

  "What are you going to ask it?" Mike enquired lazily.

  "Find out if the second lander is gone and where to." I said.

  Linda nodded and began to tap the access codes for the interrogator program. Melanee watched, her eyes fascinated. Presently the red light on the tiny touchboard turned to green and Linda unfolded the keyboard and began to type rapidly. Sitting back, she watched the answers scrolling across the screen, a green square that threw strange shadows across her intent features.

  "I’ve told it to search for terrestrial anomalies." She peered at Mary and Hilary. "Ice caps, erosion, like you were saying the other night."

  "Is the bloody lander still there?" I rasped, irritated. Melanee switched her gaze from Linda to me as Linda shook her head.

  "No. They launched yesterday, trajectory for North America."

  "I knew it." Bradley said. "Montana."

  "That’s not all. There were two drones left, remember? They sent one down to search for us with special instructions. If it saw a fire it was to impact on source of heat."

  "What?" Mary sat up, looking appalled. "They want to kill us?"

  "What’s new?" Bradley enquired, staring at the fire. "We sure ain’t seen no drone today."

  They all stared at the fire. "We’d be
tter put this out!" Mike yelled, standing up. "Christ, if that thing sees it..."

  "It already has found a fire." Linda said, stopping the rising panic. "It found a large fire by the river, the Rhone. They only told it to search within a certain radius and it found what it was looking for. See?" She turned the small screen round. The ship relayed the target as seen by the drone’s television eye. A big river with a distinct semi-circular clearing on the bank, huts, not many plus a big fire. "Look at the time data." Linda said. "This was yesterday, after they launched. These are the drone telemetry records. They set this thing up to search for a fire and bingo! It found one."

  "But not the right one." Mary muttered. We all crowded round the screen, even Melanee, watching as it showed a rapidly approaching target, the details springing into focus at alarming speed. The drone obediently homed in onto the fire and the screen went blank.

  "Speed at impact four hundred eighty knots." Linda read off.

  "How far off?" Mike peered at the display. "Fifteen miles? That’s why we didn’t hear it."

  Linda tapped on the touchboard. "And we don’t want our friends to know the drone hit the wrong target." She said. "I’ll tell the ship to keep quiet about it."

  "Four hundred and eighty knots." Mike repeated thoughtfully. "Kinetic energy plus unused fuel. Mm, I’d say anyone within around a hundred yards."

  "The ship says estimated population based on structures was maybe twenty." Linda added, looking at Melanee. We all turned our heads and gazed at her, wondering if she could understand what she saw on that small screen.

  She knew. She was not a savage, but she thought we were. She understood quite clearly that she had seen the death of her home settlement, her white face and revulsion plus considerable fear chasing themselves across her features. Her eyes flickered to the rifle I was cleaning and the knife in Mary’s hand as she cut bits off the supper.

  "Another thing." Linda said, breaking the silence. "The ship says ambient temperatures across the Northern Hemisphere are higher than normal. It’s checking coastal erosion, tidal flows and so on but it looks as if we have a climate change."

  "Can’t be very marked." Mike said slowly. "The Polar caps are pretty much the same." He brooded for seconds before peering at Linda’s screen. "Small change, maybe it’s the tree cover."

  He seemed dull and uninterested, but Mary was close and she was making him smile. It was a start. "This place." She waved her hands at the surrounding forest. "Back in our time you would not have found deciduous forest down here, surely? Much higher rainfall or maybe much more regular rainfall."

  Mike nodded, apparently not having enough mental energy to agree or disagree. "Massive forest cover all over the hemisphere. What in God's name happened?"

  "I’ve been thinking about time." Hilary said suddenly. She had been silently munching away, merely nodding occasionally during our discussion. Seeing the attentive audience, she smiled slightly nervously, I thought. "Look around us." She waved her hand at the pile of rocks we were clustered round. "See this?" She picked up a crumbling piece of white stone with green algae on one side. "This is or was concrete."

  Mike switched on his physics persona and scrutinised the rock in indifferent firelight. "Probably." He allowed.

  "This has disintegrated. See the red stain? Steel reinforcement." She weighed the rock in her hand. "Four hundred years is not enough."

  Chapter 8

  TIMING

  The going got harder, much harder. It rained solidly most of the next day and it was a nightmare struggle to pull ourselves along in steeply rising ground. At one point, the ancient road must have bridged a stream or small river, but the bridge had long gone presenting us with a cleft in the hill, densely overgrown and dangerous. Clinging on to the dripping vegetation I made my way painfully to where the stream, now swollen to a considerable torrent, washed its way under overhanging tangled tree limbs.

  Clouds of tiny insects had arrived, the rain was incessant, and we certainly didn't look like a party from the future, lording it over the natives. Clambering back up I told them we needed a rope which was not well received but surprisingly, the girl, Melanee, who had watched my painful ascent with alert eyes, tugged my sleeve and pointed up.

  We had left her untied, it was just too damned awkward having to watch her all the time, but we made very sure she didn't get her hands on any knives. She had shown no inclination to depart and kept out of arm's reach most of the time, but she was clearly stuck with us for survival, a decision that made my estimate of her abilities go up. It showed she could think ahead and not let emotion - her natural wish to kill the lot of us - cloud her grasp of essentials. She watched us intently, listening to our talk as if she could understand, flicking her gaze from face to face. Now, she pointed to a towering tree that Bradley said was some kind of pine.

  "Liana!" Hilary cried. "You see? There's a vine round the trunk! We can use it for a rope."

  Indeed there was but I studied the face of the girl. She was too intelligent for her own good and ours if she had worked out what we needed without understanding a word. She returned my gaze with expressionless features as Mike and Bradley set to work to cut the thing off. Linda and Mary tailed on to the end of it and started to unwind it like knitting, Hilary urging them on.

  "This is a tropical plant." Bradley panted in my ear as the slippery length of it was torn from the tree by our united efforts.

  "Probably seeded from some garden somewhere." Mike opined. "We had plants from all over the world in Europe."

  Tropical or not, it gave us what we needed although certain members of our party were nervous about trusting themselves to it by hanging on precariously over the torrent. Melanee came over with me, leaping acrobatically from branch to branch and twisting the end of it round a trunk on the far side. She seemed unimpressed by our gymnastic powers but somewhat in awe of our magical gadgets, particularly the data box and the guns.

  After that the day got worse. The rain increased to a monotonous downpour that cascaded through the trees. The ground turned to slippery, uncertain, black mud and thorns caught our clothes. I was getting worried. Exposure could and probably would produce some affliction or illness we had no means of treating. We needed shelter badly so I left them all in the driest spot we could find under a huge tree and pushed on ahead, the girl tagging along unasked. Sign language told her what we were looking for or at least I hoped so.

  The dense forest prevented us from seeing too far, not to mention the gloom and general mistiness caused by the rain. Veering off the flat surface where the road had been was not on, it was just hills covered in deep woods, the only hope was finding some kind of ruined structure and it took us three hours to stumble across it. The 'road' here was rising steeply, an energy sapping climb with streams constantly roaring across our path, mostly shallow, but I was now so wet it didn't matter how much water seeped into my boots. Suddenly, she disappeared, ran behind a thick trunk and vanished, leaving me puzzled, standing in the rain, but my annoyance had not progressed beyond bad language when she reappeared again, beckoning. With some suspicion, I followed her down a steep slope covered in thick bracken like growth and bushes with sharp spikes until she stopped and pointed.

  The descending ground abruptly flattened out and there, under an overhang of tangled twigs and moss-covered branches, was a cave, a distinct opening, quite wide and deepening into dark depths. Unslinging my rifle I advanced cautiously, thinking that a juicy shelter like this would be very attractive to bears or wild boar or mutated tigers for all I knew. She trod silently alongside, shooting glances around her but I could see no tracks or smell no smells of bears or resident pigs. Closer in the cave roof became clearer. It was slanted but flat, marked with regular patterns in square sections, all mottled with moss and lichens.

  "It's a bridge." I breathed. "Those are the concrete members." She glanced at me but said nothing, probably thinking I was chanting incantations to the Gods. Why was there no river roaring under this? Obviously it
had been used to span one of the minor rivers that fell across the country. Further in, the answer became clear. The rear of the cave was thirty yards in and solid rock. At some time in the last four centuries, the ground had moved and the stream had been cut off. Feeling pleased, I peered all round and grunted satisfaction. Clever of her to find it, I thought, but then she was much more attuned to the grain and layout of the woods than I was and knew what to look for, or so I supposed, standing there soaked to the skin, wondering if the rest of my life was going to be like this.

  "We'll go back." I decided. This was as near ideal as we could hope for. We could lie up here and dry off, maybe do a little hunting. She grasped the idea immediately and started back without a word. Following her long, dirt stained legs as they climbed the slope again with less effort than my puffing progress, I mused over why she had come along with me in the first place. After all, I was responsible for the decease of her late departed lover/brother/uncle, whatever and she had made her feelings about the event crystal clear. She was a well-controlled girl, too, I reflected. Apart from the outburst of grief after the man's death, she had exhibited little panic and much interest in our proceedings. It seemed to me, trudging after her, that she had tacked on to us with remarkable speed and no explanation.

  With the approach of evening the rain stopped abruptly and the slanting sun cast strong light through the tall canopy. Water still dripped everywhere but warmth arrived and with it a raising of spirits, mine anyway, hers seemed to be just the same all the time, a kind of wary restraint, mixed with flashes of alarm. For hours we followed our path back, me glancing at the compass to check, but she obviously knew the way, striding confidently along, casting looks over her shoulder at me from time to time.

  We passed by a particularly thick, gnarled trunk that I remembered and quite suddenly, the feeling of ants crawling on my back arrived, making me stop dead. She looked round and stopped as well, her eyes watching me with that alert but frightened expression that she seemed to use all the time when I looked at her. Pointing to a spot beside me, I waved her back, wanting her within arm's reach. She came back cautiously, standing beside me, watching as I waved the rifle barrel and started to advance slowly. Our party should be close, the spot we had left them was only yards away.