Read Online The Eternal War by Alex Scarrow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alex Scarrow
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Confederate South …’
‘Why?’
‘Because they saw the North, the Union, as a growing threat. They were becoming too rich, too powerful. Becoming too big for their boots. Threatening British dominance. So the British government thought it might be better if America was divided, so they wanted to help the Southern states, the Confederates, split off and form their very own nation. That’s right, isn’t it, Bob?’
Bob shrugged. ‘I have some conflicting data files on this. Historians disagree.’
‘But here was the problem, Sal … the British people were against the idea of slavery. So it wasn’t going to be easy for the government to convince their people to go along with helping the South. And this fella, President Lincoln, was a smart chap. He realized if this war’s headlining issue was all about slavery, if the British people could see more clearly that one side, the North side, was totally against it … then there was no way they’d let their government support the slave-masters in the South.’
He shrugged. ‘It was the right thing … what’s the word … the moral thing to do, to free all the slaves,’ said Liam. ‘But, the way I see it, it was also very clever, like a chess move. To make sure the Confederates didn’t have Britain come into the war on their side.’
Sal shook her head. ‘I thought it was much simpler than that. Right versus wrong.’
Liam hunched his shoulders. ‘Wars are never about right and wrong. Always seems to be they end up being about power … money … something both sides want for themselves.’
‘Information: I am detecting the density probe.’
Liam got up from the sacks of cornmeal wearily. They’d been walking through the early hours of the morning and most of the day and his legs ached. He turned and offered Sal a hand. ‘Ma’am?’
She was struggling with the layers of linen and cotton petticoats and the tightly laced bodice to get to her feet.
‘Whuh?’ she said, looking at his hand, utterly bemused. ‘What do you want?’
He sighed, grasped one of her gloved hands and yanked her up on to her feet. ‘Jayyyz, don’t gentlemen offer ladies a polite hand any more in your time?’
She shook her head. ‘Uhhh, no, not really. I’d probably run if a stranger reached out for me like that.’
‘One minute left until extraction,’ said Bob.
Liam suddenly snapped his fingers. ‘We’re probably going to have to come back here again, once we’re sure history’s been corrected.’
Sal looked at him. ‘Really? Why?’
‘Liam is correct,’ said Bob. ‘The distillery wagon represents altered history –’
‘And we’ll need to trace it back and find just who caused them horses to bolt.’ Liam looked at Bob. ‘We should’ve followed it up last night, straight after saving Lincoln.’ Liam cursed, frustrated with himself for having been so dense. ‘Why didn’t you suggest that, Bob?’
‘It was not a stated mission priority.’
Liam cursed again. ‘We’ll need to come back once more and trace back the way that wagon came. See where it came from, find out what spooked them horses.’ He fumed in silence for a moment. ‘Jay-zus, that was stupid of me.’
They waited for the window, listening to the bustling activity outside. Bob counted down the last ten seconds and then with a puff of air that sent Sal’s bonnet fluttering the shimmering orb of displaced time hovered darkly in front of them. Sal took a final look around the storage shed, savouring one last time the smells of woodsmoke, leather and horse manure.
‘I enjoyed my trip,’ she said, a little wistfully. ‘I wish …’ she started to say, but didn’t finish. She didn’t need to – Liam knew exactly what she was going to say.
I wish we could stay.
He nodded just to let her know he felt the same. ‘Best get going,’ he said finally.
‘Goodbye, 1831,’ she uttered, then reluctantly stepped through.
Liam looked up at Bob. ‘Well, better get back
‘Why?’
‘Because they saw the North, the Union, as a growing threat. They were becoming too rich, too powerful. Becoming too big for their boots. Threatening British dominance. So the British government thought it might be better if America was divided, so they wanted to help the Southern states, the Confederates, split off and form their very own nation. That’s right, isn’t it, Bob?’
Bob shrugged. ‘I have some conflicting data files on this. Historians disagree.’
‘But here was the problem, Sal … the British people were against the idea of slavery. So it wasn’t going to be easy for the government to convince their people to go along with helping the South. And this fella, President Lincoln, was a smart chap. He realized if this war’s headlining issue was all about slavery, if the British people could see more clearly that one side, the North side, was totally against it … then there was no way they’d let their government support the slave-masters in the South.’
He shrugged. ‘It was the right thing … what’s the word … the moral thing to do, to free all the slaves,’ said Liam. ‘But, the way I see it, it was also very clever, like a chess move. To make sure the Confederates didn’t have Britain come into the war on their side.’
Sal shook her head. ‘I thought it was much simpler than that. Right versus wrong.’
Liam hunched his shoulders. ‘Wars are never about right and wrong. Always seems to be they end up being about power … money … something both sides want for themselves.’
‘Information: I am detecting the density probe.’
Liam got up from the sacks of cornmeal wearily. They’d been walking through the early hours of the morning and most of the day and his legs ached. He turned and offered Sal a hand. ‘Ma’am?’
She was struggling with the layers of linen and cotton petticoats and the tightly laced bodice to get to her feet.
‘Whuh?’ she said, looking at his hand, utterly bemused. ‘What do you want?’
He sighed, grasped one of her gloved hands and yanked her up on to her feet. ‘Jayyyz, don’t gentlemen offer ladies a polite hand any more in your time?’
She shook her head. ‘Uhhh, no, not really. I’d probably run if a stranger reached out for me like that.’
‘One minute left until extraction,’ said Bob.
Liam suddenly snapped his fingers. ‘We’re probably going to have to come back here again, once we’re sure history’s been corrected.’
Sal looked at him. ‘Really? Why?’
‘Liam is correct,’ said Bob. ‘The distillery wagon represents altered history –’
‘And we’ll need to trace it back and find just who caused them horses to bolt.’ Liam looked at Bob. ‘We should’ve followed it up last night, straight after saving Lincoln.’ Liam cursed, frustrated with himself for having been so dense. ‘Why didn’t you suggest that, Bob?’
‘It was not a stated mission priority.’
Liam cursed again. ‘We’ll need to come back once more and trace back the way that wagon came. See where it came from, find out what spooked them horses.’ He fumed in silence for a moment. ‘Jay-zus, that was stupid of me.’
They waited for the window, listening to the bustling activity outside. Bob counted down the last ten seconds and then with a puff of air that sent Sal’s bonnet fluttering the shimmering orb of displaced time hovered darkly in front of them. Sal took a final look around the storage shed, savouring one last time the smells of woodsmoke, leather and horse manure.
‘I enjoyed my trip,’ she said, a little wistfully. ‘I wish …’ she started to say, but didn’t finish. She didn’t need to – Liam knew exactly what she was going to say.
I wish we could stay.
He nodded just to let her know he felt the same. ‘Best get going,’ he said finally.
‘Goodbye, 1831,’ she uttered, then reluctantly stepped through.
Liam looked up at Bob. ‘Well, better get back
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