DAY 61

Beyond the walls of Haven stretched rolling hills, sprawling patchwork fields, dense forests and winding rivers. Out here, away from the noise and the infinite life of the city, you might find moments of piece. Here, wildlife thrived—foxes with pristine fur scampered across the dirt roads, badgers crawled through the moonlit undergrowth, and field mice crept into your knapsack when you settled into camp for the night.

Sham had passed through or around countless quaint villages since leaving Haven, each of them possessing the traditional old travellers inns, the old farmers grumbling over lit pipes, small plumes of smoke rising from the chimneys. Out here, there was a totally different way of life—slower, in some ways, but more comfortable, too. From what Sham could tell, the denizens of these towns didn’t care so much about skills and levels; they had them, sure, but they didn’t represent the worth of a man.

As he’d grown further from Haven—and closer to enemy territory—Sham had had his team begin to avoid signs of civilisation. This close to Elmira and her monarchists, they couldn’t trust that spies weren’t embedded in the towns—people who might report their presence. Sham hadn’t expected to miss the homecooked stews, the rich golden ales, and putting his feet up by an inn’s crackling fire.

But such was the price of going to war.

A little over a fortnight had passed since Sham had set out from Haven, a handful of the city’s best and brightest following his command, and Sham didn’t know that he missed his home. The only thing he missed, really, was surely by Ariel’s side at this very moment, helping her prepare the city for attack—as per her new role as one of the PM’s special advisors.

Sham had the very same title as Riot, of course. He was one of the trusted few; it had to be one of them leading this excursion behind enemy lines. And if it wasn’t going to be Mona—charged with recruitment and training of Haven’s defence force—or Asa—somehow cajoled into overseeing logistics, a matter that he excelled in—then it had to be Sham.

There was a phrase that Sham had heard some of the more junior MPs throwing around, when it came to Ariel’s advisors: the New Legion. Sham didn’t know that he like it, or what it said about the team members themselves. For that matter, he didn’t think he liked what it said about Haven’s government—did people not see that they’d moved on from Enoch’s tyrannical reign? Did they not recognise that Sham and co were different from the old Legion, which they’d made great effort to tear apart?

As Sham and his contingent of soldiers crunched their way down the gravel road, a noise up ahead wrenched Sham from his train of thought, and brought him to an abrupt stop.

He held up his hand to the rest of his squad, ordering them too to halt, and then listened for further noise.

He heard nothing—only the coo of a distant owl, a scurrying in the undergrowth too minute to be anything but a rodent. Yet, it was best to be cautious. By now, they were only a day or two from the enemy, by Riot’s calculations—and, of course, those calculations were made weeks ago, with information that was already outdated; they couldn’t say for sure how accurate these projections would be.

Sham signalled to the treeline, and—silently—he and nine vetted republican citizens of Haven hurried to crouch under the cover of shadows. Without requiring command, the soldiers stood deathly quiet, their eyes wide and their ears open—ready to perceive signs of trouble approaching.

‘Sounds like a squirrel to me,’ Recollection murmured. ‘You grow too paranoid.’

Can’t be paranoid enough, this close to the enemy, Sham said internally, replying to the living skill.

‘We won’t even get there if we spent all our time hiding from small wildlife.’

With a grimace, Sham sighed. Maybe he had indeed grown too cautious; they weren’t making good time, already a day behind. Though, did that matter, so long as they arrived to complete their mission in one piece? ‘Alright,’ he said, rising to a stand once more, ‘we’re safe. Onwards.’

Out of the corner of his left eye, Sham was sure he saw soldiers Two and Seven share a look—one that he’d been noticing more and more as their journey progressed. One of doubt. If this continued, he was going to need to stamp it out.

‘Onward,’ he said again, and began striding north once more.

* * *

On they journeyed, deep into the night. This far north, it was safer to rest in the daytime, and travel once the sun had set—less chance of being spotted. Sham whacked his way through the undergrowth, thick this far back from the road, but worth it to avoid travellers and merchants. Many seemed innocent enough, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? You couldn’t tell a monarchist from the look of them. If you could, then Sham’s job would be a whole lot easier.

Sham struck his long blade at the branch in front of him, clearing it from their path in two strikes, and pressed on. He remained in his thoughts, until a sight ahead of him wrenched him back to reality.

Here, in the depths of the woodlands, away from all signs of civilisation, stretched another patch of the void.

They’d seen plenty of the Fringe since leaving Haven, of course. Back there, with all the damage the Loop had done, the corruption had had a vehicle by which to spread. You had to tread carefully simply to leave the city, these days. But away from the city, and from towns and villages, there were patches of untamed countryside untouched by the Fringe. To see it here was…

‘Six,’ Sham commanded, waving the man forward, ‘up front. Bring the map.’

The officer—picked for his experience in the cartography field—did immediately as commanded; Mona had drilled them well. Sham dropped to his knees, this alone signal enough to suggest the others do the same, though Sham was thinking more about the illness rearing up its head inside his heart.

When Six arrived at his side, he’d already unfurled the parchment and was removing a small glass vial from his pocket. The red liquid inside glowed gently—enough to light the map without risk of starting a fire… and drawing attention.

The team each carried three of these vials—boono, not the legendary skill vials that Hester had created over and over during the timelines of the Loop. One Charm, one Intimidation, and one Luck, each for use in case of emergencies. But they doubled, handily, as dim sourced of light.

‘Where are we?’ Sham asked.

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In answer, the man pointed to a spot on the map—just where Sham thought they were. At least he wasn’t completely losing it, after all he’d been through, and after all those gaps in memory.

‘No towns around, are there? No people?’

Six shook his head. ‘Nothing, sir.’

‘Strange.’

The soldier glanced at the void, ten feet ahead of them. ‘Cos of that, sir? Ain’t seen much these last few days, since we been steering clear of towns.’

‘You noticed?’ Sham asked.

‘Amry did, sir,’ the man replied, before correcting himself. ‘Two did, sir. Any reason for that?’

‘Not sure. We knew the Fringe was the world over, but this trend… that it’s only near people, that’s new to us. But then…’ Sham gestured to the void ahead. ‘Maybe we were wrong. Maybe it’s just coincidence that we’ve only seen it near villages. Maybe there were just more people around to stumble across it.’

‘You think, sir?’

Sham shook his head. ‘I dunno. Will take smarter minds than mine.’

Six nodded knowingly, then abruptly stopped, like he’d realised what that looked like he was agreeing to. ‘Around, sir?’

‘Around?’

The squad pressed on, pushing through the woodlands with only the chirps of insects and the sporadic hoots of owls to accompany them through the otherwise thick blanket of silence. They journeyed deep into the night, until Sham’s legs could take him no further, and he finally signalled that they make camp for the night.

Camp was a simple affair; a large canvas sheet stretched between the trees of a clearing, sloped so that any rainfall wouldn’t collect on top of it. They made their beds from the falling autumnal leaves, using their packs as pillows and their spare clothes as blankets, depending on the weather.

Sham had thought it would take him some time to adjust from the comfort of the beds of traveller’s inns, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. In fact, after so much walking in the late afternoon and deep into the night, Sham found that sleep came easily to him.

His eyelids again grew heavy as he rolled over, putting his back to the rest of the camp, and the vision of dark rural woodland disappeared before him.

But then the rustle of movement behind him snapped him back to consciousness.

‘Is he asleep?’ one of his soldiers hissed.

Sham remained deathly still, breathing deep, taking care to keep his eyelids only gently closed.

‘Looks like,’ Two whispered back. If you could call it whispering, at this volume.

What could they have to say, that Sham couldn’t be conscious to hear? He’d noticed their mutterings, the odd dig at both him and their situation, but he’d let that go. A comment here and there was one thing, but an organised meeting—as best as he could tell, featuring all nine members of the team—was something else entirely.

There was a moment of silence before anyone spoke, as though each of them worried about speaking their minds. Finally, Four—naturally—opened his mouth.

‘He said anything to anyone? Anything at all?’

Sham imagined that the silence was filled by everyone shaking their heads; he’d been good about keeping his mouth shut.

‘No. Getting nervous, though, isn’t he?’ That was Nine. ‘I get keeping off the roads, that makes sense. But every time we hear a single noise, he freezes, his eyes wide. He’s like a fucking rabbit surrounded by foxes.’

‘Maybe that ain’t so far from the truth. We must be, what, five days away now? Six? Seven? Whatever it is, we’re either already in enemy territory or we’re only a smidgen away from it.’

‘OK, sure. So maybe he’s right to be cautious. But if he’s so scared of what could happen if we get caught, then maybe we shouldn’t be here?’

Sham’s heart dropped when he heard Two speak next; she, of all of them, should have known better. ‘We don’t know what our mission is. We—’

Someone must have moved to say something, because she stopped herself abruptly, then kept talking.

‘No, I’m not saying that’s OK. He should tell us. We’re putting out lives on the line, and he won’t even tell us why? That’s not OK. Not even when I was in the Haven Defence Force did we get put on missions without even knowing what they were about.’

‘And how can we complete our mission—whatever it is—if we don’t know what we need to do?’

More and more voices began to speak, starting to overlap with one another. The ball was well and truly rolling, now.

‘That Mona woman, when she told us our city needed us, I thought we’d be…’

‘...Taken for granted. I could be home, with my kids, but I’m out here in the middle of bloody nowhere, doing only the gods know what, just so…’

‘...he doesn’t carry a gun. He takes us into enemy territory, and he doesn’t carry a gun. What kind of logic is that?’

‘I hear he can’t shoot,’ one of his men—Four—said. ‘That his Marksmanship skill is fucked. Corrupted, somehow.’

‘Magnetism too, from what I heard.’

‘Explains the shitty attitude, don’t it?’

‘Maybe,’ Four responded. ‘Or could be that he’s got shit in his past that makes him that way. Bitter, like.’

‘Like what?’

‘Could’ve murdered people,’ a new voice piped up. Seven.

Sham felt Recollection grow uneasy inside him.

‘What?’ the same voice continued. ‘Like that’s so insane. What, do you think we’re gonna complete this mission without killing people?’

There was a brief pause, and all Sham could hear for a moment was the crackling of the fire and the chirping of exotic insects.

‘That’s different. We’re at war, now.’

‘So, what, the rule has changed? Morals have changed?’

‘You ain’t ever heard of the phrase “the greater good”?’

‘Sure I have. But I ain’t—’

Sham swung himself upright, staring down the nine young officers who thought having conversations like this was appropriate. ‘Alright, enough,’ he said, and though he kept his voice low, many of his team jumped out of their skin, like he’d barked at them.

The aide to the prime minister pulled himself heavily to his feet.

‘I… We expected more from you than this. This idle gossip. You’re here because you’re the best of the best. Act like it.’

All sets of eyes drifted to the ground. All but Three’s. This was a woman too brave for her own good; it’d get her killed, one day.

‘Sorry, sir,’ said the woman still holding eye contact. ‘It’s just… if you could give us some idea what we’re doing out here… If we didn’t have to resort to conjecture…’

Sham sighed. The woman had a point. It had been Riot’s idea to keep the team in the dark—if they got captured, they would have no way of giving the enemy the information they sought—but there was a price to this way of working, too. Sham was rapidly losing the confidence of his team; they saw that he carried no weapon, they’d heard fragments of the truth about his past. If he left these imaginations unchecked, he might just lose his team entirely. And then what chance of success would they have?

The aide weighed the pros and cons of revealing the truth for a moment, then nodded. He took a seat on the trunk of a fallen tree.

‘Alright,’ he said. ‘The truth, then. What we’re all here for.’

Sham looked up at his team, and nine pairs of eyes stared back at him, their owners giving him their full attention.

‘Those vials you whisper about, when you think I can’t hear?’

Two shot a very specific look at Four.

‘Those vials that every rumour in Haven seemed to mention?’ Sham continued. ‘They’re real. They don’t exist. Not…’ He searched for the right word to explain the Loop, and their erasure from this timeline, but ended up settling on a white lie for simplicity’s sake. ‘Not anymore. But there’s a woman out there who has the knowledge to create them again.’

Sham found himself unable to meet the gazes of his team, and he stared down to the dirt beneath him. A worm wriggled as it died, half its body squished by heavy boot. His heavy boot.

‘Her name is Hester Cray. She’s fallen into the enemy’s hands. Our mission? To get her back.’