Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #22 January 2016 | Page 10

of ham, peas, potatoes and lentils. Second, it has
started to snow.

fishing.” Kosygyn says.
“I’d like a hot bath.” Elsa says.

“This is very good!” Kosygyn says through
a mouth full of food, eyes bright in his gaunt face.
Recovered from nine broken ribs and a punctured
lung, he seems to have discovered the ability to be
positive about everything.

“You need one. I’ve been meaning to say.”
“Pig.”
“Smelly cow.”

“It’s crap, but it’s hot.” Elsa says.

Elsa jumps Kosygyn, pushing him onto his
bunk. Kosygyn has regained his strength but Elsa,
tall and muscular, pins his shoulders and he needs to
exert himself .

Kosygyn laughs and rubs her bristled scalp.
We have all taken to shaving our heads, even the
women. It’s that, or lice.
Then it turns out to be an even more
momentous day. New orders are posted: Holding the
line has allowed us to stockpile materiel. Tomorrow
at 04:30 hours a general assault into the mountains
will begin along the entire front.

“Stop it, for God’s sake.” Rolf says. “Save it
for the night when we don’t have to watch.”
Day 281
Rolf is dead, Suzi and Mitchell badly
wounded. The attack comes out of nowhere,
smashing our line, overwhelming the artillery,
driving deep into our centre before we can rally.

Day 272
The mountains are a curtain-wall concealing
a high land of frozen lakes and snow-bound forests
of fir, pine, larch and birch. The enemy retreats in
disarray as we drive four armoured columns through
mountain passes into this new territory.

In the shocked aftermath Elsa, Kosygyn and
I huddle under some blankets behind the MG240.
They are all we have been able to salvage from our
bunker. The Banlite lies a few yards away on the rim
of a shell-hole. During the attack Rolf and Mitchell
managed a single shot. Then their position was
shelled heavily.

Gardiner, ebullient, his arm in a sling, calls
us together and gives a speech from the top of his
armoured half-track.
“The foe is gone, the mountain his last
redoubt. The war is not won, but today the field is
ours. This empty land is a treasure-trove. Wood, fur,
essential minerals like tungsten and cobalt. At the
moment it is cold and hard. So are we. We can live
here. Caribou, musk ox, fish in the lakes. Airships
cannot cross the mountains, so we are establishing a
forward aerodrome south of the range. The sappers
will build roads, corduroy at first, then metalled.”

Snow is falling again, settling on the pines,
covering our blankets. We have not eaten or slept for
over thirty hours.
“We’re done here,” Kosygyn says in the
silence. “There’s no fucking line to hold.”
It’s hard not to agree. Two thirds of the
armour is gone, along with all the artillery and
God knows how many casualties. Many officers
have been lost, including Gardiner, killed leading
an abortive counterattack. Suzi and Mitchell are in
a field hospital back in the woods, but there is no
medicine, most of the doctors are dead.

“So we can go home then?” Mitchell says
back in our bunker. The stove is hot, we are in our
shirt sleeves.
“Fuck that, I fancy some hunting and

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