'They call it the Information Super Highway,' Eve said, 'or they did, before that got lame.'

'This Internet,' Harker said, 'who can access it?'

Eve shrugged. 'Anyone with a computer and a modem.'

'What's a modem?'

'It's ... the thing that connects you to the Internet. You need a phone line,' she added.

'A phone line,' Harker said. 'Eve, how do you know all this?'

Eve sighed again. 'Because I'm crazy,' she said. 'Remember? I think I come from a world where everyone has computers. But clearly, that's not the case, so I must just be mad. And don't yell at me, all right, I'm not one of your soldiers, I didn't ask to be here, and I have no idea what crawled up your butt and died this morning but get over it and stop snarking at us, okay?'

Harker stared at her. He was aware of Charlie's hand settling on the hilt of her pistol.

And all of a sudden he wanted to laugh.

'Okay,' he said, and Charlie exhaled. 'Right. Thank you for that, Eve. Form up, lads, we're on foot for a while. Give the horses a rest. Captain Haran, you may drive the wagon. Charlie, you're with me. Rearguard.'

The squad, the smallest he'd ever commanded as an officer, formed up, with Eve still looking very sulky. Harker toyed with the idea of telling them to put their packs on, but decided against it.

'Scouts pace,' he said. 'March!'

Tallulah, Banks and Martindale immediately set off at a jog. Eve stumbled.

'You're being cruel, sir,' Charlie said, as they waited for Daz to set off after the men.

'What, by making the infantry go on foot?'

'By making our prisoner go with them.'

'Hah,' Harker said. He stubbed out his cigarette with his boot. 'She ought to learn to march. Toughen her up.'

Charlie just rolled her eyes.

He pulled out a map from inside his jacket and showed it to Charlie. 'Latest intel Wheeler could give me said the Coalitionists had control of the area twenty miles to the north of Peterborough, and about ten to the east. To the west, they've joined up with their own territory.'

Charlie winced. 'They can only be about ten miles from the coast.'

'Yep,' said Harker. 'We've a blockade about halfway along the Fen Causeway, twelve miles from the coast. And it's that twelve miles we have to manoeuvre in. They take that last stretch, and not only do they have sea access but they've effectively cut off the north from the south.'

'Are we still blockading the Wash?'

'Far as I know, yes. Thing is, Charlie, we've got too many bleeding miles of coastline. Can't blockade it all.'

Charlie took the map and peered at the strip of land between the sea and the red blotch that signified Coalitionist-controlled territory.

'So we follow Ermine Street to Godmanchester' she began, and Harker shook his head.

'No, I don't want to run into any trouble. We'll take the Icknield Way from Royston,' he pointed to the old Roman road on the map, 'and go north from Newmarket. I want to go right by the coast, as far away as possible from being spotted.'

Charlie nodded. 'Where do you want to stop tonight?'

Harker tried to calculate it in his head. He wasn't going to make the men march all the way, that would take days. If they alternated with short, fast trips in the wagon ... he looked up at the sky. Sulky grey clouds hung low. If it started to rain, they'd have to find somewhere to shelter the wagon, or it'd get stuck in the mud.

'I don't know yet,' he said. 'Wait until it starts getting dark. I want to at least get past Royston tonight.' He peered at the map again. 'It's about sixty miles to Newmarket, but we could set up camp there in the Devil's Dyke. Nice defences, and it's sheltered.'

'I remember,' Charlie said, and of course she did, because when the Coalitionists had gone after Newmarket they'd used the earthworks to shelter themselves before attacking the town. They'd been unsuccessful, although they'd taken plenty of casualties on the way. One of them had been Lieutenant Marston, into whose place Charlie had stepped, still only a sergeant, to lead her platoon.

'It is ... empty, isn't it, sir?' she said, and Harker had a nightmarish memory of the piles of bodies heaped around when daylight came.

'They buried them at the north end,' he said. 'We'll camp at the south. It's miles away.'

Charlie nodded, but she didn't look happy about it.

Eve's feet were entombed in the cheap trainers she'd bought for a fiver from one of those gigantic sports shops always on the verge of shutting down. Aside from the low-heeled courts she wore to work, they were the only shoes she had, which was heartbreaking when she remembered the mountains of shoeboxes on offer in her Grrl Power days.

Unfortunately, because her shoes were cheap they were also rubbish, and after an hour on the move her feet were killing her. They rubbed at the back of her heels, the sides of her toes and where the tongue was stitched in. After she was dragged through a puddle by the humourless girl she was handcuffed to, one foot was also soaking wet.

'I protest,' she said, as the squad slowed from jogging to walking for the millionth time. 'I have a sprained ankle!'

'Which the doc examined this morning and pronounced fine,' said the male Private, behind her.

'Well, I'm sure you're not supposed to run on it, not straight away.'

'You sprained it last week,' said the other Private, a very young girl with a long and stupid name Eve couldn't currently remember. She looked vaguely familiar maybe the girl who'd driven them around Southwark. Eve wasn't sure. She'd been trying not to think about that day.

'How do you know?'

'I was there.' After a second or two's silence, she went on, 'I was with Major Harker when you fell out of the sky.'

'Right look, what's your name?'

'Watling-Coburg,' said the girl, a touch defensively. Eve couldn't blame her.

'Right, Private ... Watling-Coburg, so can you tell him I wasn't spying?'

'I couldn't say what you were doing,' said the girl, infuriatingly.

'Hey, can you fly?' the other Private asked.

'With the right wings.'

'No, seriously?'

'Anyone can fly with the right wings, Banks,' said the girl to whom Eve was cuffed. She started jogging again.

'Oh, come on, I'm in real honest pain here!' Eve protested.

'Shoulda seen my feet, first week in training,' Banks said. 'Blimey, what a state. Thought I'd never walk again.'

'Me, too,' said Watling-Coburg. 'Hours and hours of marching in full gear. I thought they were trying to kill us.'

'Well, that's what the army's about, ain't it, Lance-Corporal?' Banks said. 'Train you up and send you off to be shot?'

'Banks,' she said sharply.

'Well, it is, isn't it? We're the infantry. Cannon fodder.'

'Well, that's not why we're here now,' the Lance-Corporal said.

'Yeah, but why are we here? I mean, us three?'

Us three. Clearly, Eve wasn't included.

'You tell me, Banks,' the Lance-Corporal said.

'Werrl, I reckon you're here 'cos he needs someone to keep me and Tallulah in line,' Banks said.

Tallulah Watling-Coburg? Jesus Christ, her parents must have hated her.

'That's probably right,' she replied. She gestured to the white band on her arm. 'See this, Private?'

'Yes sir, I see, sir.'

'This means that in the absence of a sergeant, I'm your NCO.'

'Absolutely, sir, yes, sir.'

'And stop making fun of me, Banks.'

'Yes uh sir. Anyway, I reckon that's why you're here. And I'm here 'cos I'm a crack shot'

'And also because you're so modest,' Tallulah murmured, as they slowed to a walk again.

'Yeah, and that too. And, because the Major said we was gonna steal something, right, and that's what I'm good at.'

'Stealing?' Tallulah said.

'Yep. 'Course, I'm reformed now, on account of being caught and hauled up by the magistrate.'

'Let me guess,' Eve said. 'It was death or the army, and you're wishing you'd chosen death?'

Banks laughed. 'Nah, miss, it was jail or the army. Course, I'd forgotten we was at war ...'

'How could you forget?' Tallulah said.

'I have a very sunny personality and am always looking upon the bright side of life,' Banks announced self-importantly, making Tallulah giggle.

Private Joker, Eve thought. Well, at least he might cheer things up. Harker seemed to have lost all traces of Will, the nice guy she'd chatted to in the hospital, and turned into a surly bastard. Although this might have more to do with the presence of the humourless Charlie, who had ignored Eve for half the night and left her alone, chained to her bunk, for the rest of it, while she went for a drink.

'And we all know why you're here,' Banks said to Tallulah, and there was a chilly silence. Eve felt the Lance-Corporal tense beside her.

'Do you?' Tallulah said, ice in her voice.

'Yeah. It's 'cos you can drive and speak French.'

The Lance-Corporal relaxed.

'And also 'cos your sister is in charge of the regiment,' Banks went on, and the Lance-Corporal snapped, 'That's enough, Banks.'

But Eve, who wasn't a soldier and was rather beyond caring at this point anyway, turned her head and said, 'Really?'

'Yes,' Tallulah Watling-Coburg said, and Eve turned back, realising that anyone who'd grown up with that sort of name would have nerves of steel as a matter of course.

Right then, Harker came trotting up, turned and actually jogged backwards, facing them. He was smiling.

'Having fun?' he said to Eve, who stuck her tongue out at him. He grinned. 'Right then, squad. Back in the wagon. We're not making good enough time.'

'Thank God for that,' Eve said loudly, as they finally stopped running and the wagon came to a halt behind them.

'Not enjoying it?' Harker asked. He looked like he was having a whale of a time. Great, so he was one of those hideous people who actually got cheered up by exercise. Either that, or he was enjoying her misery. Probably, she thought darkly, it was both.

She gave him a poisonous look. 'My ankle hurts.'

'Shame.'

And that was all she got. She was hauled back into the wagon, which if Eve had been feeling polite she'd have described as cosy. But she didn't feel like being polite, not remotely, so the words that came immediately to mind were more like cramped, dark, and uncomfortable.

Charlie, Harker's very own right hand, took the reins again, with Harker and the doctor seating themselves inside. Eve caught the doctor's eye and tried for sympathy. 'I'm not sure my ankle is fully healed yet,' she said.

'Um,' he said. His eyes darted towards Harker, which infuriated Eve. 'Well, when I examined it this morning, it seemed fine.'

'Yes, but that was before Captain Sadistic here made me go running for an hour.'

'Hey, I object to that,' Harker said, lighting up another of his damn cigarettes. 'I'm a major, not a captain.'

'But you'll admit to the sadistic part?'

He gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'This is the army,' he reminded her.

'And you are a vicious fiend from hell,' Eve said, which seemed to amuse him. She turned her head away, staring pointedly out of the back of the wagon at the rutted, unmade road which jarred and jolted her spine. None of the others seemed to mind, or even notice, but Eve supposed that was something else the army instilled. Endurance.

Some time around midday, long after the paltry dawn breakfast Eve had been given had worn off, Harker called a halt and ordered Tallulah to distribute lunch. This consisted of bread that was already a little stale, slimy slices of ham, and water.

Tallulah caught her looking at it and said, 'Be thankful we're not further into the journey. Then all we'll have is dried meat, and it's twice as bad.'

'Marvellous. And how long is this journey expected to take?' Eve asked.