"Then they enter the field of combat and we can shoot them," replied Mitch.e.l.l in a loud voice. He wanted the smiling waiter to hear.

Sergeant Clausen was getting impatient.

"This is no good. We need to eat and we need more conscripts." He tapped a finger against his teeth, thinking.

"We're going to have to split up," he said suddenly. "Mitch.e.l.l. You and Singh take the rifles and the package. Get up high where you can watch us. Reed, Chapelhow and I will go eat and get talking with the locals. See if we can press some recruits."

"What about your uniform, sarge?" asked Reed.

"Good point." he replied. "You can help me buy some civvies, Reed."

SERGEANT CLAUSEN LOOKED different in civilian clothes. Dressed in a white open-necked shirt, a gold chain around his neck, he looked younger and more handsome. But with a dangerous edge to him. Chapelhow could see that Reed had picked up on it. She was only just eighteen and she hadn't yet learned about men like Clausen, he guessed. "You look good, sarge," she said, obviously coming on to him.

"It took too long," complained the sergeant. "b.l.o.o.d.y shops shut for lunch."

"Let's go here," said Reed, pointing to a restaurant that backed onto the sea. Behind it they could just see a terrace poking out, white-jacketed waiters moving about in the cool breeze.

"No," said the sergeant. "We need to get inland. We could be seen from a ship kilometers out on that terrace. Picked off by laser. They could see us back in Africa."

"Is that where the package comes from, sarge?" asked Reed cheekily.

"Shut up about the package. That's an order."

There was a cafe on a corner that gave a good view down the three streets that led to it. The sergeant chose a table and positioned his team so they could watch every approach. He ordered a carafe of red wine and a large bottle of water.

"Don't drink the wine," he said. "Don't get drunk."

He glanced up at the second-storey window of a nearby building. Chapelhow saw a shadowy movement within and guessed that Mitch.e.l.l and Singh were up there.

The sergeant was listening to the voices from the tables around him. For the first time since his conscription, Chapelhow missed his headset, he missed being able to understand what the Spanish were saying. And then, in the midst of the hubbub, he heard English voices. A little girl squabbling with her sister. And over there, a young couple, sharing their meals with each other, the woman holding out a forkful of fish to her boyfriend to taste.

Sergeant Clausen smiled.

"I'm just going to the toilet," he said, clapping his hands on his knees. He stood up and walked off, taking something from his pocket as he did so.

The waiter arrived with their water and their wine.

"Are you ready to order?" he asked in heavily accented English.

"Steak, chips, and salad for all three of us," said Reed. She shrugged at Chapelhow. That had been Sergeant Clausen's orders. Plenty of protein and carbohydrate.

"What's that?" she asked. Chapelhow had taken the yellow piece of paper from his pocket.

"I don't know," said Chapelhow. "It says 'You are Andy Chapelhow. This paper is kept in Andy Chapelhow's pocket...'"

"What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure."

Reed was already bored. "What do you suppose is in the package? The one that the sergeant gave to Mitch.e.l.l?"

"I don't know. Africa is in the news a lot lately. There's a lot of technological development going on there and the West doesn't like it. It doesn't like being left behind. I think the sergeant's team was sent there..."

"What team?"

"I'm not sure. There's only the sarge and Mitch.e.l.l left now. Look, forget the questions. All that's important is that we get that package delivered." And then maybe we can get back to normal, he thought.

Sergeant Clausen reappeared. Chapelhow quickly folded the paper back into his pocket. The sergeant sat down, took a drink of water and leant back in his chair.

"Hey!" he said, turning to the young couple at the next table. "Is that a north eastern accent?"

"Yes," said the young man delightedly. "We're from Darlington."

"What a coincidence! My grandparents were from Darlington. I used to go there as a child. Is that shop still there on the High Street? The one that sold all those nice sweets?"

"I don't know which one you mean," said the young woman suspiciously.

"Hey, it's probably gone by now. My name's David by the way. This is Pippa and Andy."

"I'm Tom and this is Katie," said the young man. He wore a new yellow shirt with white b.u.t.tons, new shorts, and new sandals. Chapelhow guessed he had been dressed for his holiday by his girlfriend.

The waiter approached the couple's table with an ice bucket.

"We didn't order this," said Katie.

"Compliments of the house," said the waiter. "Enjoy your holiday." He took a white linen-wrapped bottle from the bucket and poured them both a gla.s.s of white wine.

"He probably thinks it's your honeymoon or something," said the sergeant. "You are an attractive couple."

He held up his own wine gla.s.s. "Cheers."

They all drank to each others' health.

"That's very nice," said Tom.

"So, David, what are you doing here?" asked Katie, suspiciously.

"Oh. Enjoying the sun and the local food. Relaxing and forgetting my troubles. The war's not going so well, is it?"

"I thought as much," said Katie. "You're a soldier. I could tell by the way you were sitting to attention."

David Clausen laughed. "Bright girl. We could do with someone like you in the forces."

"It's not going to happen." She sipped at her wine primly. "I won't join up."

"Why not? Don't you believe Britain has the right to defend its interests?"

"Of course. It's when Britain starts interfering in other countries' interests I get uncomfortable. Particularly those who are not as well off as we are. Because your sort of fighting isn't about defense, is it David? It's just about money. Which corporation is bankrolling your regiment?"

"I hear it's not going well in Africa," said Tom, frowning at Katie as he changed the subject.

"It's not as bad as you'd think," said David, still smiling at Katie. "The Orange States have split from the Southern European Alliance. The SEA is fighting a war on two fronts now."

"Don't the SEA have some sort of way of controlling the animals?" asked Tom. "That's what I heard. That must be nasty."

David Clausen laughed.

"I'd rather be attacked by an elephant than another soldier. At least elephants don't shoot back at you." He lowered his voice and spoke in confidential tones. "Actually, Tom, it's the mosquitoes that are the worst. You don't get any peace at night."

"I think it's cruel to the animals," said Katie.

"So do I," agreed David. "But it's crueller to the soldiers. It's weird, isn't it, Katie? People are more concerned about animals than humans. They all agree that the war is a just cause, but they are not willing to fight it themselves."

"Just cause? I heard the Orange States have perfected cold fusion. I wonder how much that would be worth?" She paused, making her point. "Anyway, the soldiers choose to fight. The animals don't."

"Not true anymore," said David. "They've got this drug, you see. They call it Third Person. It sort of detaches you from the scene. Once you've taken it, you lose all sense of ident.i.ty. It's like you're reading about someone's life, rather than taking part in it. They give it to civilians to press them. Conscripts don't really have a choice whether they fight or not. Look at Pippa and Andy here."

Chapelhow looked across to Reed to see how she was taking it, being spoken about like that. She didn't seem to mind.

"I don't believe it," said Katie. "They'd never allow it. They'd ban it."

Clausen laughed. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But the government knows which side its bread is b.u.t.tered on. The big corporations bring in too much money." He gave a brilliant white smile. "And," he tapped his nose at this point, "little secret. Anyone who kicks up too much of a fuss gets put under the influence themselves."

He yawned and stretched, leant back in his chair, soaking up some rays. "Oh, they'll outlaw it eventually, I'm sure, but I reckon we've got a year or two left yet."

"I don't believe you."

Tom was looking at his gla.s.s of wine in horror.

"Katie," he said.

"No way," Katie's eyes widened with horror as she stared at the gla.s.s in front of her.

"You don't get complimentary bottles of wine for being an attractive couple," said Clausen, suddenly businesslike.

"But why us?"

"Because you're young, fit, and healthy. And besides, you're British, unlike just about everyone else here. I do this to the locals, and I get sued from here to dishonorable discharge."

"What about that family over there?" asked Katie desperately.

"You can't expect me to take the parents and leave the children to fend for themselves, can you?" said Clausen. "What sort of a monster do you think I am?"

He pulled out two sheets of electro paper from his pocket and spread them on the table before them.

"Just sign these contracts and you've enlisted."

Katie and Tom looked at each other, and then they signed them, as they weren't "I" anymore but someone else. Just observers.

The waiter turned up again carrying five plates of steak and chips and salad. He placed two before the young couple.

"Eat up your meal," said the sergeant to Katie and Tom. "You'll need all the energy you can get."

THE PLATOON REGROUPED under the awning of a modern hotel, set on the edge of a wide road that led inland.

"This is Katie Prentice and Tom Fern." Sergeant Clausen was introducing the new conscripts to Mitch.e.l.l.

"They look fit," said Mitch.e.l.l, hungrily tearing away at a sandwich the sergeant had brought him. Behind him came the roar of a diesel engine. A blue and white bus pulled away along the road, black smoke spilling over the hot tarmac. Mitch.e.l.l pinched Fern's arm with mayonnaise-smeared fingers.

"Nice muscle tone. Do you work out?" he asked.

"Yes," the couple answered in unison.

"We go to the gym three times a week," added Prentice.

Mitch.e.l.l nodded. He hefted the package in his hand. A cylinder, about thirty centimeters long. Chapelhow always thought it looked very heavy. Mitch.e.l.l pa.s.sed it to the sergeant.

"Well, Prentice," he said, "with any luck, you'll be back there within the week. Not long now, I hope."

Singh handed them their conscripts' rifles and showed them how to work the action that loaded and ejected bullets.

"These are ancient," said Fern.

"They're good enough," said the sergeant. "Mitch.e.l.l. Save these two; they're the healthiest. Put Reed, Chapelhow, and Singh on point."

"Got it sarge. What now?"

The sergeant gave a smile.

"We're headed inland. I thought we'd take the bus. They're never going to dare open fire with all those civilians around."

"Good idea."

"Come on."

They walked from under the hotel's awning into the hot sun, Chapelhow blinking as they went. He had never liked direct sunlight. The bus stop was just up the road a little, a small metal awning with several tourists sheltering beneath.

"Just relax on the bus," said the Sergeant. "Save your energy for later. Reed and Chapelhow at the front. Singh at the back. Prentice next to me. Fern next to Mitch.e.l.l."

It wasn't too long before a bus pulled in. The sign on the front said Adventureland. Chapelhow had heard of the place, a big theme park built up in the hills.

"This is the one," said the sergeant. "Off we go."

They climbed on board. Chapelhow and Reed sat next to each other at the front.

"Have you any more ideas what this?" asked Reed, looking at the yellow sheet of paper that Chapelhow had taken from his pocket.

"I sort of remember," said Chapelhow. "I think Chapelhow wrote it when the sergeant pressed him. He was in a bar on the cruise ship; his boyfriend had gone to bed. Too much sun. He was just having a coffee when the sergeant joined him. I think Chapelhow sort of fancied him, as he was flirting with him. He shouldn't have accepted that brandy..."