 
PHASEWAVE –

ALIEN CREATION

Published by David Gill at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 David Gill
TABLE OF CONTENTS

VOLUME ONE – PHASEWAVE

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

VOLUME TWO – BEYOND PHASEWAVE

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

VOLUME THREE – PHASEWAVE TRANSITION

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

#####  VOLUME ONE - PHASEWAVE

#####  Chapter One

Spaceport, orbiting Planet Vennica – Colonial Year 1450

The Border Control officer sighed. 'Who are you? That's all I'm trying to find out.'

Declan did not understand. 'I'm Declan Green. I wrote it on the form.'

The man sitting opposite Declan returned the immigration form. 'I can read, can't I? You haven't filled in the form properly; I need more information.'

'It is not necessary,' Declan objected. 'I am a Vennican citizen, and I possess a travel permit.'

'How long have you been away from Vennica?'

'Six years.'

'Four years ago, you should have re-registered. Your permit is now invalid.'

'I wasn't aware of that requirement. Can I renew it now?'

'Not here. Only your local government office on Vennica can issue you with a new one. Are you returning permanently?'

'I should be gone within six months.'

'All I can issue you with is a temporary transit permit. Give me your address on Vennica.'

'I don't have one.'

'Are you staying with a partner, family or relatives?'

'I don't have a partner, or family or relatives.'

'Where were you born?'

'Here in Spaceport. I was part of the breeding programme.'

'Oh. Did you see any action?'

'No. The war was over by the time I came of age.'

'I'm sorry to hear that you wasted your time. Look, when you decided to come here you must have had somewhere to stay in mind. I can't let you through until you have satisfied me that there is a genuine reason for your visit.'

'I'm visiting for medical reasons.'

The Officer nodded at the burns on Declan's face and head. 'Is that what brings you here?'

'Yes. I've never had trouble entering before.'

'You can thank the Colonies for the increased security arrangements. Okay, just give me the name of anyone on the planet that will be willing to vouch for you.'

'During my stay, I have been asked to do some part-time work for my previous employer – the Justice Department. The Head of Department is a man called Gill Fallon. He will give me a reference.'

The officer was a large man, and he was sweating profusely. He took out a handkerchief and wiped moisture from his face. 'This place is too hot.' He looked at Declan. 'Don't you feel the heat?'

'No. I come from a cold place.'

The officer looked at Declan's application. 'I see you've been on Scion3. Where's that?'

'It's a scientific research station in the back of beyond, way outside any known boundaries,' Declan said.

The officer shook his head. 'I learn new stuff every day.'

'Do you need to contact my boss?' Declan asked

'Border Control will do that when you go through Shuttleport on arrival. They'll tell you what to do next, but make sure you renew your visa or they won't allow you out. I'll put your contact down as the Kalmis Justice Department. As a matter of interest, what are you intending to do with them?'

'I used to be employed by them as an investigator. I presume it's going to be more of the same.'

'Well, good luck with the face.' The officer issued Declan with a temporary permit. 'Next check-in is mid-day at the departure hall.'

'Thank you.'

Declan wended his way through the maze of metal corridors that riddled Spaceport, the biggest structure ever made in space. He hated every centimetre of it. The constantly changing gravity made him feel nauseous, and the artificial lighting made his eyes water, as well as giving him a headache. The passing of time had in no way reduced the bitter feelings he first experienced when he spent the formative years of his life there before being sent to a military academy. He finally reached his cabin and thankfully closed the door. Even after shutting out the normal sounds of daily life, he could still hear the familiar noises of running water and grinding machinery in the background. He was again reminded that all the water on Spaceport had been recycled since his childhood days, and that he was essentially drinking the same water forty years later, water that had probably been filtered through humans many thousands of times. Apart from that, the whole place had a unique metallic smell that penetrated his clothes.

For the first time, however, Declan noticed that the humidity inside the station had increased and removed his damp clothes to take a shower before he left. As he entered the bathroom, he caught sight of his reflection in the shower door and stopped to examine his burnt and battered body. Angry red wheals ran down the side of his face and head, and puckered scar tissue distorted the whole left side of his body. What he saw caused him to ask the same question the Border Control officer had asked – who was he? Judging by what he was looking at, he was no longer sure. He thought again of his six years working on Scion3 and the moment when the positron microscope revealed the first artificial reproduction of a human cell. It had definitely been a first of its kind and the highlight of his life, until the explosion that changed everything. Had all that effort been worth it? To be hit by a fireball that burst into the tunnel where he was walking with seven colleagues had been bad luck, but the other seven had died in the accident, and he alone was coming back to Vennica to let his burns heal and undergo surgery.

Declan stood in the shower and allowed the tepid water to run over his body for its allocated four minutes. He wondered again about the message he had received from Gil – don't listen to any news and don't speak to anyone before you arrive. Something obviously had taken place, but it had always been his intention to be left alone for the duration of his stay. He would discuss the matter with Gil when he met him.

The water supply shut down at the end of its time with an audible clunk, and Declan stepped out of the shower and dried himself. Six cases, stacked along one wall of his metal chamber, contained all his worldly possessions. He stared at the cases, which seemed to have become a permanent fixture of his life, and thought that they did not represent much in the way of rewards for half a lifetime's work. Now, he was back where he had started and beginning a new stage of his life.

After drying himself, he put on another uniform that looked only slightly better than the one he had just discarded and checked the time. Sixty minutes to go, and then he and his attendant cases would blast down to Vennica on a rocket. What problem awaited him? What situation could be so problematic that he could not discuss it with anyone? Despite his reservations, Declan had to admit that he was becoming curious as to why Gil had contacted him. Well, he would not have to wait much longer before he found out.

Justice Department Headquarters, Kalmis City, Planet Vennica

Glen Sommers listened to the echo of her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she wandered through the seemingly endless corridors of the Justice Department headquarters. She checked the names on each passing door and tried to remember the last time she had been inside the building, eventually reaching the conclusion that it had been over a year since her previous visit. Apart from the fact that most offices were unoccupied, nothing appeared to have changed since that occasion. Eventually she found what she was looking for and knocked on a door marked DIRECTOR OF OPERATIONS. A smaller sign, which someone had obviously added later, displayed the name Milo de Villiers. The door opened and a tall, brawny man with long arms and legs greeted her with a huge hug.

'I'm glad you could make it today.' Milo released Glen from his embrace. 'How long has it been this time?'

'It's been too long.' Glen gestured around the office. 'I see you finally made Director; you're obviously mixing with the right people.'

'I'd like to tell you that I've finally been rewarded for my hard work, skills, and dedication over the years, but that's not going to happen. This office was empty when I found it, so I just set up camp. I haven't the faintest idea what happened to the real Director.'

'He probably went down the tubes like the rest of us. Why is it that wherever you end up, you always act as if you own the place? You're looking well, so it can't be doing you any harm.'

'Not as well as you.' Milo gave Glen a craggy grin. 'You look great. Don't you ever age?'

'Keep it coming,' Glen replied. 'I can take any amount of compliments like those.' She watched while Milo busied himself making them drinks. Even though he was now into his forties, he still had the carriage and rolling walk of the athlete he had once been in a previous career. Following the handover of power from the Vennican government to the Judiciary, most of the Justice Department staff, including both of them, had ended up out of work. Milo, however, managed to retain the respect and gratitude of his colleagues by supporting them during the transition and eventually negotiating contractual employment for them after the Department's workload started to return to normal.

Milo produced two mugs and gingerly carried them in his huge hands. They sat in comfortable chairs at a low table. 'How's your new apartment?' Milo asked. 'Are you enjoying life out of town?'

'What I enjoy most is going home at the end of the day and kicking back on my balcony. I put my feet up, grab a glass of wine and watch the sun set over the Kalm River. Am I painting a picture for you?'

'You're certainly making me jealous if that's what you mean. I really must make the effort and move out of Kalmis. The city is far too crowded; everyone I meet seems to be heading for either the river valleys or the hills. Perhaps I'll join you some day.'

'I can definitely recommend it. Now, what's new in Milo's world?'

'You must be wondering why I asked you to come here. Wait a moment.' Milo produced a small electronic device and propped it up on the table. He switched it on and warned Glen by holding a finger to his lips. 'You can't be too careful nowadays.'

'You think this place is bugged?' Glen whispered conspiratorially. 'You mean there might be a bug in the director's office?'

'Why bug the car park when you can find out what the director is thinking? This box of tricks will detect any nearby recording devices, so feel free to say what you like until the red light comes on. Where were we?'

'I was wondering why you have asked me to come here, and I was about to say that this usually happens only if you're desperate or need a shoulder to cry on. On this occasion, however, I somehow doubt that you have brought me all this way to shed tears over me.'

'I'm not that bad, am I?'

'I can't think of any other occasion you've asked for my help.' Glen laughed. 'Sorry, I was just winding you up, as usual.'

Milo was always pleased to work with Glen; she was a smart, attractive woman with a quick wit and sharp tongue. They had enjoyed an off-and-on relationship for years, but, for various reasons, their diverse lifestyles always seemed destined to stop them developing a permanent arrangement. 'You'll have noticed that hardly anyone works in this building nowadays,' he said.

'I can't understand why that is; there's so much going on that I hardly ever find time catch up with my friends. What is it this time?'

'Gil Fallon has asked me to take on an unusual assignment on behalf of the Justice Department. It's something that might interest you.'

'Right now I could do with a change. I'll consider anything so long as it's not that alien rubbish that's doing the circuit.'

Milo looked at her in surprise.

'It is! I don't believe it!' Glen burst into laughter.

'Don't take any notice of the rumours that are flying about. This is a genuine, high-profile criminal investigation; the alien bit is just an add-on.'

Glen could not control her mirth. 'An alien is just an add-on? You couldn't make that up.'

Milo sighed. 'This is exactly the reaction I expected from you. Can't you take anything seriously?'

Glen dabbed tears from her eyes.

'Give me a break,' Milo said. 'Gil has asked me to do this as a personal favour. He's struggling to retain the Department and desperately needs to resolve this case, which, I have to say, is unusually messy.'

'Even without the alien bit?' Glen could not keep a straight face.

'I'm already beginning to regret asking you to do this. I could get somebody else, you know.'

'I doubt it. Just mention the "A" word, and all you will see and hear is a cloud of dust and the sound of galloping hooves. Nobody in their right mind is going near this one, especially with the Phasewave Company involved – they employ more lawyers than the entire Judiciary. Anyway, what's the story?'

'Gil is keeping everything to himself, and I actually know very little about what is going on behind the scenes. All I'm aware of is that it involves a female engineer who worked off-planet for the Phasewave Company. Gil wants us to be the support team while his investigator questions the engineer.'

'Who's the investigator?'

'His name is Declan Green. Do you know him?'

Glen looked puzzled. 'I know the name, but didn't he bail out of the Department some time ago?'

'I understand that Declan spent some time in this Department, but for the past six years, he has been working on Scion3 and is now heading back to Vennica. I don't pretend to understand the politics surrounding Declan's employment, but for whatever reason, Gil seems determined to use him.'

'If this is the same Declan I'm thinking of, wouldn't it be better if I did the questioning of a female and let Declan work with you?'

'Actually, that was the first thing I suggested,' Milo said, 'but Gil has already made up his mind that Declan will be carrying out the interviews and won't be swayed. I honestly have no idea how this will work out; if it looks like we are not getting anywhere, I can always go back to Gil and try again. The investigation is subject to a tight time scale, so we should quickly get a feel for how it's progressing.'

'I guess I would be fairly relaxed about that.'

'Don't be too concerned. After this investigation is over, I have a gut feeling that there could be considerable pointing of fingers, and it will probably be more prudent for you to stay behind the front line. Resources in the Department are thin on the ground, so I think that we will probably end up closing off the investigation. Are you in?'

'Isn't this always the way it works?' Glen said. 'Everyone further up the food chain gets to cherry-pick, and we end up with the rubbish that falls through the cracks.'

'I take it that's a "yes" then.'

'Of course it is. I wouldn't miss this for the world. We're a winning combination – while I dutifully listen to your complaints and keep you sane, you get all serious and sort things out, only this time it will be an alien that you will be sorting out.'

'I'll try to ignore that remark, but I need to stress that you will have to take the alien bit seriously, at least until we find out what has happened.'

Glen tried hard to keep a straight face. 'Okay, but one last joke, and I promise that this will be the last one. Inside a room are an alien, a sharp investigator, and a woman. On the floor is a fifty-buck note. Who picks it up?'

Milo shook his head.

'The woman, of course – the other two don't exist!'

Milo let out a groan. 'Is that it? Are there more where that came from?'

'No, that's all.' Glen made a zipping gesture across her mouth.

'You promise?'

Glen struggled to regain her composure. Eventually she managed to ask when they were to start.

'Gil hasn't got final approval yet,' Milo said. 'Right now he's with the Security Council, begging and pleading for a case which no one else will touch with a long pole.'

'In other words, nothing has changed while I've been away.'

'Not unless you include the alien add-on.'

'No comment,' Glen said.

'Do you believe in the concept of alien life forms?'

Without looking up, Gil could tell from the gravel voice that Correy had asked the question. 'No,' he replied. 'I concern myself with facts, not speculation.'

Silence returned to the darkened room, where only small pools of reflected light along the edges of the table indicated the presence of its five occupants. Gil turned over the last page of the document he was reading, replaced it on the table, and leaned back in his chair. While he collected his thoughts, he looked around the chamber and wondered what irrational fear always made him feel uneasy whenever the Law Lords summoned him to appear before the Security Council. After all the years he had been attending the meetings, he still felt uncomfortable in the presence of the company he shared.

'And do you fully understand the significance of this situation?' Correy continued.

Gil nodded in reply.

'Then what is your opinion? Are you confident that the Justice Department can resolve this case?'

Gil studied the four men sitting around him – Andrew Correy, Stanis Soulah, Jared Hannif and Barnes Goldman – the four most distinguished men of law on Vennica, which by association included the Outstations, Old Colonies, New Colonies and every civilised part of space. The men, once contemporaries of his, had moved on and attained their stations in life through various combinations of luck, skill, political manoeuvring, and skilful manipulation while Gil languished at a lower level and had long since abandoned any expectation of further advancement. 'It's not going to be a problem,' he said. 'I will deliver.'

The silence returned while the others carefully digested Gil's reply.

'We have concerns.' It was Goldman, the youngest of the Law Lords, who spoke. Thin-faced and arrogant, with an unwavering stare, he was widely tipped to break convention and jump rank to become the next Council President after Correy stepped down. Gil had always found him particularly difficult to deal with. 'In view of the unusual nature of this case,' he said, 'do you consider your staff sufficiently qualified to carry out such a sensitive investigation?'

'My investigator arrives from Spaceport today,' Gil replied. 'He has my complete confidence and will be responsible for the handling of the investigation. I am also employing a highly experienced support team.'

Correy cleared his throat. 'Due to the intense media speculation generated by this case, do you appreciate the importance of substantiating beyond all doubt any facts which may prove or disprove your findings?'

'I do. My agent specializes in this type of work; I don't anticipate any difficulties.'

Goldman looked around at the others in the dim lighting. 'May I take it that we agree to transfer custody of the accused to the Justice Department?'

Apparently they all were, although Gil saw no indications of acknowledgment exchanged between them. By taking what was potentially one of the highest-profiled cases ever to come his way, Gil was aware that a final chance to reverse the decline of his Department's fortunes had arrived at exactly the right time. A peculiar excitement gripped him. Although the case in question had attracted an inordinate amount of unwanted attention, it appeared at first sight to be a relatively straightforward investigation, but, he reminded himself, any case that ended up on his desk was inevitably one that no other department would accept. If, on the other hand, the defendant proved to be insane, which appeared the most likely finding, all he needed to do was provide the necessary proof and gratefully accept the gift.

'Two weeks,' Correy said, and Gil was unable to work out whether it was a statement or a question.

'We are all in agreement.' Goldman addressed Gil across the table. 'The Justice Department is given custody of the prisoner for two weeks, after which period of time we will accept your submission for consideration.'

Gil collected his documents and stood up to leave the room.

'For our records,' Goldman asked, 'what is the name of this agent of yours?'

'Declan,' Gil replied, surprised by the unexpected question. 'His name is Declan Green.'

Goldman added something to his notes. 'I trust you will ensure that Declan fully understands our exact requirements?'

'Declan is a trained investigator who has previously worked for the Justice Department. Since then he has gained extensive scientific research experience which could prove to be advantageous in this case.'

Correy's face creased into a grimace. 'Let's hope for all our sakes that your investigator shares our desire not to deviate from the facts.'

'He is the most logical person I know,' Gil replied, before turning for the door. After he left the room, however, a niggling doubt disturbed the elation of the moment as he recalled attending a previous meeting with the Law Lords at which Declan himself had been the subject of discussion. This time he hoped the outcome would be a significant improvement on the previous one.

Shuttleport, Kalmis City

A line of weary travellers straggled across the almost deserted arrival hall of the Kalmis Shuttleport, their hollow footsteps echoing in the huge, empty space. By the exit, two men observed the passing scene and examined, under the green glow of overhead lights, the tired and worn faces passing by on their way to distant, unknown destinations.

'Will you put that thing down?' Slater said.

Jarvine lowered his arm and let the small flag displaying the badge of the Justice Department swing by his side. 'Shuttleport is a big place. How's he going to recognize us?'

Slater rested his large frame against a wall and scanned the approaching file through narrowed eyes. 'Don't worry. I'll recognize him.' Six years was a long time, but Declan was someone he was unlikely to forget. 'Just remember,' he added sarcastically, 'that this is the man who has come back to Vennica to save us all, and we're expected to make him feel at home by treating him just like one of us. Well, there's a first time for everything.'

'Hey, take a look over there,' Jarvine said. 'Can you see what I see?' A tall figure was standing by the gate. 'What's happened to him? It looks like he's been through a mincer.'

The man caught sight of them and remained motionless while the moving line of arriving passengers parted on either side of him. Something about his posture, the slight stoop and forward thrust of his head, struck Slater as being familiar. 'That's him! That's Declan!'

Eventually, the man walked over and stood before them. Ugly, red wheals disfigured one side of his face, contrasting vividly with his deathly pale, almost translucent skin, and a sparse stubble of dark hair sprouted through the undamaged areas of his scalp.

'Are you expecting me?' Declan's voice contained no hint of a greeting.

Jarvine jerked his head towards a corridor leading away from the main terminal. 'We're taking you to see Gil.' The two men turned and walked rapidly away.

The encounter with Slater and Jarvine was unexpected, causing Declan to wonder why Gil had not come to meet him in person. He turned and walked slowly in the opposite direction while he collected his wits. Fast footsteps approached from behind, followed by the crush of a heavy hand on his arm that jerked him to a halt and lanced a shaft of pain through his upper body.

'Didn't you hear me?' Slater shouted. 'What d'you think you're doing?'

'I have to collect my cases,' Declan replied.'

'They're already taken care of,' Jarvine said.

'Then you should have told me.'

'Come with me.' Slater released his grip and waited to ensure that Declan followed.

They walked without speaking. Jarvine released a locked door leading into a long, featureless corridor, but after a few minutes of walking, Declan's muscles began to ache from the strain of the unaccustomed gravity, and he started to lag behind.

Slater waited for him to catch up. 'What's the matter with you?' he rudely asked.

'Why are we in such a hurry?' Declan replied.

Slater ignored the question but continued at a slower pace until they entered a transparent elevator that accelerated upwards through a shaft inside the massive, supporting arches of the terminal roof.

Declan tried to keep track of the directions they were taking but quickly became disorientated inside the vast maze of halls and passageways that comprised Shuttleport. 'Where are we going?' he enquired.

'You'll see,' Slater muttered.

The lift's journey ended on the roof of the arrival building where a carriage was waiting. The three men climbed on board, and the vehicle lurched onto its monorail before setting off into the night sky. Enhanced by years of isolation in deep space, Declan's particularly acute hearing picked up the almost inaudible steel-whistling melody of the overhead runners as they brushed against the monorail above. The lights of Shuttleport fell behind while the carriage continued to climb into the darkness above an empty plain, its passage only disturbed by the occasional sigh of lights as traffic flashed by heading in the opposite direction. High above, a giant silver moon interrupted the seamless mantle of the night. The moon slowly slipped behind a wide ribbon of high-level cloud, changing its hue to a deep indigo, but the sight did little to quell Declan's rapidly forming conviction that his unwelcome arrival on Vennica was merely a foretaste of things to come.

Half the journey was over by the time a faint glow on the horizon ahead signalled their approach to the city of Kalmis. Declan looked inside the carriage and found Slater staring at him. Every muscle in Declan's body ached, and his left arm throbbed in a steady rhythm of pain. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, but his thoughts kept returning to the message he had received from Gil on the journey to Vennica. What could possibly be so significant that he was not allowed access to the public version? Another bolt of pain stabbed down his arm, finally removing all thoughts of sleep.

Too many questions remained unanswered. Declan eased himself upright in the seat and turned to Jarvine. 'Are you going to tell me why I'm here?'

Jarvine stared back indifferently, and Declan felt annoyance boil up inside him.

'I need to know.'

'You'll get to know when we feel like it,' Slater said.

The pain swelled inside Declan's body. 'You'll answer my questions now.' In one swift movement, he reached forward and twisted the nearest door handle. The emergency brakes immediately screeched on and brought the carriage to a shuddering halt, throwing them from their seats and leaving the carriage swinging perilously above the buildings on the city outskirts.

'You stupid fool!' Slater yelled. 'Are you trying to kill us?' He seized Declan by his jacket and forced him against the seat. Slater's eyes bulged in their sockets as he fought to control his temper. 'I've had enough of you!'

'No!' Jarvine grabbed Slater's sleeve. 'Remember what Gil said.'

Declan stared calmly into Slater's eyes, thinking for a moment that he had pushed his luck too far. Slater unclenched his hand and leaned closer. 'Listen to me, you useless piece of shit. Do you really want to know why we're here wasting our valuable time babysitting you? Well, I'll tell you. Something has cropped up, and Gil, for reasons best known only to him, is under the impression that it's too important for the likes of us to handle; it's a job that only his old buddy Declan can do, providing he graces us with his presence, that is. More than a few people disagree with that kind of muddled thinking, Mister Spaceman, and they believe that Gil has finally outstayed his welcome. The same goes for you; we don't want you here. As far as I'm concerned, you can take a dive out of that door any time you choose. Next time you try a stunt like that, rest assured that we won't stop you.'

Slater's large body crowded the dark confines of the carriage as he sat back, breathing heavily. Jarvine latched the door, and the transporter moved off again into the night. 'Don't ask questions because you won't get answers,' Slater said.

'You've already told me what I wanted to know.' Declan leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes, but not before he saw the other man's face turn ugly with rage.

Declan tried to ignore the pain and relax. Think before you speak – welcome back to Vennica. The melodic sound of the runners above his head recaptured Declan's attention, and, after listening for a while, his mind slipped free, and he fell into a troubled half-sleep to the rocking of the transporter.

#####  Chapter Two

The sound of opening doors plucked Declan from his troubled dreams, and for a moment, he did not know where he was.

'Move out!' Jarvine ordered. Declan complied and, for the second time that night, found himself being hustled along endless corridors inside a strange building. The stale, recycled air was unique to the underground level of the city, but the place itself was unfamiliar and its internal doors unmarked. They eventually came to a halt outside one of many identical offices.

Declan moved towards its door, but Slater stepped forward and blocked his way. He leaned close to Declan. 'This is where we part company. I hope we don't meet again.'

'That will be something for me to look forward to,' Declan replied.

Slater opened the door and stepped aside, revealing the welcoming sight of a familiar figure.

Gil looked a lot older and smaller than Declan remembered. A look of relief appeared on his face when he saw Declan enter the room. 'It's good to see you again, Declan.' He approached Declan and curiously inspected his face. 'What caused all this?'

'It was an accident, fortunately nothing too serious.' Declan delicately fingered the angry marks on the side of his head. 'How are things with you?'

'I could lie, but what would that achieve?' Gil sat down at his desk. 'If I was able to manage without you, I wouldn't have brought you here. You must be wondering what all this is about, and I owe you an explanation. Take a seat. Did the boys look after you?'

'Slater certainly hasn't improved with keeping. I'll stand if you don't mind; I need to keep moving.'

'Sure, feel free. I would have collected you myself, but I've only just returned from a meeting with the Security Council. I hear you've been on Scion. What were you doing there?'

Declan walked slowly across the room. Documents littered every available work surface, and a faded, framed picture of Gil's long-suffering life-partner, an unsmiling woman whose name Declan could never remember, looked down at him from high on the wall. 'It was research,' he replied. Another object caught his eye. Declan picked up a ceramic cup holder and recognized it as a present he had given Gil before he left, and with the memory came the realisation that he was back in the same situation he had escaped from years ago. 'Burns won't heal on Scion, so the establishment sent me home,' he explained. 'It wasn't by choice.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Gil said. 'How bad is it? If I'd known, I wouldn't have disturbed your journey.'

'It's nothing to get excited about.'

'That was bad luck.'

'It could have been worse.'

'Six years is a long time to be away. Was it worth it?'

Declan thought it ironic that he had asked himself the same question just before leaving Spaceport. 'I think so. In the end we actually created a basic form of life.'

Gil lifted a paperweight from his desk and studied it. 'Would you describe what you produced as an alien life form?'

'Right now it's nothing to look at; it's just a collection of cells. Given a few million years of evolution, it might eventually resemble something you could call an alien. If you had a good imagination, that is.'

Gil nodded to himself, his thoughts elsewhere.

'What's on your mind?' Declan asked.

'There's a problem.' Gil sat back in his chair. 'Have you spoken to anyone since my call?'

Declan shook his head. 'Slater and Jarvine weren't exactly communicative.'

'Some things never change.' Gil sighed. 'Unfortunately, the Security Service now employs the likes of Slater and Jarvine, and I'm so short of staff in the Justice Department that I have to hire them to help out. You remember Slater from before, don't you?'

'Could I forget?'

There was a brief silence while both men relived past, painful memories.

Gil returned to the present. 'Have you heard Phasewave mentioned recently?'

'No.'

'I honestly don't know where to start. Things have gone on that, if they did occur, defy the imagination. I use the word "if" because nothing in this case is clear-cut. I contacted you because I no longer have the resources to tackle anything this complex. Two weeks at most, that's how long I need your assistance.'

'If it's that complicated, how do you know it won't take longer?' Declan asked.

'I've only been given two weeks to sort out this case, but the Department's leaking worse than a sieve, and if the media break the story, it could reduce even that timescale. I don't want to prejudge the issue in any way, but you'll understand what I mean when you start to hear the details.'

'I'm not sure I can be of any assistance,' Declan said. 'There must be other agents around who are better qualified to carry out this assignment.'

Gil spread his hands on the desk and inspected his fingernails. 'I'll level with you: a lot has changed since you left, and it hasn't been for the better. I'm now fighting for the survival of the Department, and no one here can do what you do. If you turn me down, Slater or Jarvine will step in, and when you find out what I'm asking, you'll understand why I don't want them involved. I need a discreet, experienced investigator on the job, and in certain respects, this case would appear to relate to some of your recent work. Above all, you have been in isolation and must be one of the few people who haven't heard the rumours that are flying around. Before I can report back to the Security Council, I will need a straightforward, uncontaminated report on certain events that happened, and I'm only going to get one shot at it.'

'How does Phasewave feature?'

Gil stiffened. 'Where did you hear that?'

'You just told me.'

'That's terrific: now I'm frightened of my own shadow.' Gil slumped over his desk. 'Hear me out. Two engineers, a man and a woman, arrived back here from a stint off-planet. I believe they had been working on Bouron. The man was suffering from some kind of amnesia, but the woman claimed that while she was out there, unbelievable things took place, and they really were totally unfuckingbelievable. When the Phasewave Company brought her back to Vennica and heard what she was saying, it went into a spin and called in the lawyers. Company security then got hold of her and managed to scare her half to death before the Security Service got wind of what was going on and stepped in. Since then she has been out of sight under arrest and has now been transferred to the Justice Department, where every crap case gets the treatment it deserves.' He snorted loudly. 'What chance do we stand if we're always at the back of the queue? Anyway, that's enough of my problems. Unless we deliver an acceptable response, she'll be sent for cerebral stimulation, and we both know what that entails.'

'What has she been charged with?' Declan asked.

'Nothing so far, but I can point you in the direction this case is heading. Unexplained deaths and destruction of Phasewave property are involved, but, if we're lucky, this could turn out to be a straightforward case of space sickness.'

'I don't want to interfere in someone else's investigation,' Declan said.

'The case has not yet been allocated. My immediate concern is that if you stay in Kalmis, you'll start picking up rumours, and we'll have lost a major advantage. There are also legal and practical aspects to this case that prevent us from holding the woman in custody for much longer. All I'm asking you to do is to listen to what she has to say and make an impartial assessment. The previous interrogations badly affected her, and now she's lost interest and is being somewhat less than cooperative. More than anything, she needs a friend, so be that friend, and let her tell you in her own way exactly what went wrong on Bouron. I have arranged for the two of you to stay at a quiet place in the mountains where you won't be disturbed. There will be a support team nearby at all times, so you won't have to worry about a thing.'

'What happened to the other engineer?'

'He's also being held in custody, but the medics suspect that in his mental state he'll never make a credible witness.'

Declan thought it over. 'What kind of surveillance do you plan to use?'

'That's all been taken care of by the support team, and the recordings will be streamed directly back to this office. I'll be fully accessible at all times, and you may contact me any time you want, but be careful what you say because we will also be monitoring your private connection. You've worked for me before, so you know what's required. After you meet this engineer, I think you'll appreciate why it has to be you doing the investigation. How do you feel about it? Why don't you take a couple of quiet weeks to settle down after your long journey?'

Declan smiled to himself. Since when had there been a quiet week in the Justice Department? However, he had not yet made any plans for his enforced visit to Vennica, so what else would he find to do if he turned down Gil's request.

'Come and meet her before you decide.' Gil got to his feet. 'Don't worry, she won't bite.'

Declan opened his mouth to object, but Gil was already leading the way out of the office. Declan paused for a moment, and then followed Gil into an elevator.

'I must warn you,' Gil continued, 'that some controversial issues are involved.' The lift came to a halt, and the doors slid aside.

'What's the name of the engineer?' Declan asked.

Gil was lost in his own thoughts and did not reply. After leaving the elevator, they turned into yet another long corridor.

'Getting to know her might be a problem,' Gil said. 'I've already painted a picture for her: you're a gentle, intelligent soul, someone who wouldn't harm a living thing – the exact opposite of the people she's had dealings with so far. She's only young, and I don't think she appreciates how bad things will become if we fail to get what we want. I suggest we emphasise a positive approach and play down anything that might upset her.'

They passed through another door where two security guards politely checked Gil's authorization before ushering them into a living room with soft furnishings and coverings on the floor. Another guard sat in a chair staring at a monitor on the wall and studiously ignored them when they entered the room. They stood and waited. Nobody spoke. Declan looked down at his timepiece and was surprised to find that it was still evening on Vennica. He adjusted the time to local and tried to work out how long he had been down on the planet. Then his senses, heightened by the long spell away from stimuli, detected a fragrance in the air, and he glanced up to find himself looking into the pale, drawn face of a young woman.

'I'd like you to meet Jenna,' Gil said.

Declan automatically accepted the slender hand that Jenna offered and nodded an introduction, caught off guard by her silent approach. She was small, and the casual clothes she was wearing made her body appear almost shapeless.

'So this is your friend,' Jenna said, in a voice that revealed a definite Colonial twang.

'Yes, this is Declan,' Gil replied. 'He's just arrived on Vennica.'

Jenna tried to hide her shock as she took in the scars on Declan's face and head. He was tall, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Her heart sank. Was this the best they could do?

Gil led the way into an adjoining room where they took seats at a table. Jenna could not take her eyes off Declan; it looked as if one side of his head had melted and run down his neck, and the dark shadows under his eyes made his face look like a hollow mask. The guard from the adjoining room entered carrying a tray and left it on the table.

Without asking, Gil poured three cups of coffee and handed them out. 'Following an accident, Declan was forced to return to Vennica,' he explained. 'No doubt he'll fill you in on the details in due course, but he's carried out jobs like this for me in the past and knows what I want. I would like the two of you to stay together for a few days and try to work out what happened on Bouron. You won't be under any pressure, but it's important that we listen to and understand everything you have to say.'

'That's what all the others said.' Jenna's mouth twisted into a cynical smile. 'Each time it started with soft words and promises and ended with threats and coercion. I told the truth, so why should I change my story just for you? What happened wasn't my fault; I'm not going to just sit here and take the blame for something I didn't do.'

'You're under the jurisdiction of the Justice Department for your protection,' Gil said. 'You won't be questioned again.'

'What are you protecting me against? Don't try to make out that you're the last in the line. How many more people are out there waiting to have a go at me?'

'I guarantee that after you have finished with us, the investigation will be complete,' Gil explained. 'As you so succinctly put it, we are the last in the line.'

Declan looked down at the floor. From what he had already observed, it appeared to him that Jenna was facing a particularly bleak future, exacerbated by her youth and lack of awareness. Gil was right: there was no point introducing alternatives until they became necessary.

'You know as much as I do,' Jenna said. 'I've nothing to add, so why can't I walk out of here and have done with it?'

Gil was patient. 'Jenna, please listen to me. For whatever reason, you have become involved in a problematic situation, and you now need to explain how you got there, even if you weren't directly involved in what went on. You must also understand that there are legal aspects that need to be resolved before you can return to any semblance of a normal life. I have tried to treat you respectfully, but I also have a job to do and procedures to implement. Have I done anything so far that you object to, or would you prefer to take your chances with those previous investigators you encountered? I promise that you will not be mistreated t as long as you're under my protection.'

'I'm being detained against my will.'

'This is only a temporary arrangement, and hopefully it won't be for too long.'

'What other options do I have?'

'I'm afraid you don't have any,' Gil replied.

Jenna took a little time to reflect upon what Gil had said. Eventually, she turned to Declan. 'You don't have much to say for yourself. What are you going to do? Are you going to pick my brains, tape my dreams, give me all that mind-shit, smooth-talk me into saying things I don't mean, lie to me like the others?'

Declan met Jenna's gaze and was struck by the intensity behind her dark eyes. He addressed her for the first time. 'I have no intention of doing anything like that. Listen to Gil. It's exactly as he has explained: you don't have any options.'

The sound of Declan's voice surprised Jenna; it was deeper than she had expected and belied his appearance. 'I still have one option,' she said. 'I did what everyone wanted and told my story, and now I've finished. I'm tired of playing your stupid games.'

'I don't think that would be wise,' Declan said.

'You wouldn't, would you? You haven't been locked up for weeks trying to talk to people who won't listen.' Jenna got up and stood, hugging her elbows. 'Tell me what you intend to if I don't cooperate.'

The two men exchanged glances. Jenna stared at them and tilted her chin. 'Well, what are you going to do to me?'

'I don't think we ought to consider that possibility just yet,' Gill said. 'Let's take one step at a time. First allow us to hear what you have to say.'

'No, now is the time. Tell me what happens next.'

'You mustn't jump to conclusions.'

'I haven't jumped to any conclusions, and you're avoiding the question.' Jenna turned to Declan again. 'You're supposed to be here to help me. Am I right?'

Declan nodded his agreement.

'Then here's a little test for you. Tell me exactly what I can expect to happen when I refuse to answer your questions. I'll be able to tell if you're lying; I've become an expert since I got mixed up with your lot.'

'May I remind you that you are facing serious charges,' Gil interrupted. 'Right now you are not in a good situation, so I wouldn't treat this lightly if I were you.'

'Let your friend tell me. I want to hear it in his words.'

'This isn't the time or place,' Declan said.

'It's now or never. If you haven't the courage to tell me, we may as well call it a day and finish right now.'

Gil looked troubled. He caught Declan's eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

'Sit down.' Declan watched Jenna walk lightly across the room. Like a dancer, he observed, and the thought made him even more sombre. 'Okay, I'll give it to you straight. The Department has not yet formally charged you and is now offering you a last chance to produce a sensible and believable explanation of the events that led to your being here tonight. You must consider your circumstances and accept Gil's advice.'

'What if I don't?'

'You will be charged with the crimes you are accused of, and your failure to provide an acceptable explanation of your actions will automatically result in the application of drugs and mental stimulation to obtain the truth.'

'So you say, but you don't have the authority to do that.'

'We will take no part in what happens next,' Declan explained. 'Once authorization for the next stage of the investigation has been approved, you will be handed over to an external agency for treatment, and the Justice Department will no longer be in a position to intervene.'

'You're trying to scare me.' Jenna got to her feet again and stared squarely at Declan. 'I don't believe you. I've just been through purgatory, so if you think you can impress me with stories about drugs and stimulation, you can forget it.'

'I can't forget,' Declan said. 'I've seen the results.'

'Then tell me all about it. Let's see how much you can frighten me.'

Declan focused his attention on a spot on the far wall and spoke in a fast, low monotone. 'The procedure is unsophisticated but effective. Surgeons will shave your head and use a laser to punch small holes through your skull, after which they will insert fine wire probes through those holes into specific areas inside the lobes of your brain. Then, chemicals and drugs will suppress the parts of your brain under conscious control while the probes stimulate memory activity. At that point, questioning will commence, and you will be incapable of lying, even if you wanted to. People react differently to the procedure, but some degree of brain damage is inevitable in the areas affected by the probes.' Declan allowed his words to sink in.

'Tell me about the brain damage.' A tremor in Jenna's voice betrayed the look of defiance on her face.

'Memory is reduced, and personality changes and mood swings become permanent. The procedure is unpredictable and is not without significant risk. Sometimes there is no recovery.'

'Then why is it used?'

'It is used because it is the only technique that allows direct access to the subconscious part of the brain, and it is guaranteed to work. It works every time.' Declan caught sight of Gil's grim face and regretted being there.

Jenna began to pace the room. She fingered her shoulder-length curls as the full realization of the situation came to her. 'In which case, all I have to do to avoid the treatment is tell the truth. Is that right?'

It was Gil's turn to speak. 'The Justice Department only submits a final report to the High Court. What happens after that is the Court's decision.'

Jenna's face turned pale. 'You mean that even if I go through all this stuff again, I could still end up brain-dead?'

'Which is exactly why your cooperation is essential to enable us to work out how you arrived in this situation,' Declan added.

There was a long silence. Declan continued to stare at the wall and Gil managed to look even more morose than usual.

Jenna finally spoke. 'I guess I really don't have a choice. What now?'

Gil glanced at Declan with a quizzical expression. Declan turned to Jenna and found her watching him expectantly. 'I listen while you talk.' It was the only decision he could have made.

'I can't tell you anything that I haven't already told the others,' Jenna said. 'What more can I do?'

'I have no idea what you have already said,' Declan patiently explained. 'I don't know anything about you or what you have been through, so I have no opinions concerning what you may or may not have done. You might think that you related things as you saw them, but you also saw, heard, and experienced other events that you will not remember right now. With time and reflection, you will recall those events, and I will be there with you to help fill in the missing gaps. That is all; I won't lead you anywhere you don't want to go.'

'But will you believe me?'

'I will listen to what you say and help you understand the events that took place. That is all. I'm not here to pass judgment.'

'Why do you find it a problem to say you'll believe me?' Jenna spoke in a voice edged with irritation.

'What exactly do you want me to say, Jenna?'

Jenna started to complain and then realized the futility of her objections. She remained silent while she gradually came to terms with the new situation. 'Okay, it's your move. Let's get on with it.'

Gil rose to his feet. 'There's a spare bedroom in the back. Providing Declan has no objection, I would like him to spend the night here. I'm withdrawing the guard from inside the quarters, and tomorrow you will move to a quieter location where you can settle down without interruption. I'll show Declan to his room. Is it too late to start tonight?'

'I'm not going anywhere,' Jenna said dejectedly. 'I'll be here whenever you want me.'

Gil led Declan to a bedroom where one of the guards was unloading the last of Declan's cases. He spoke quietly to the guard, and a few moments later, Declan heard the outer door close as the guard left the apartment.

'How did you know I would be staying?' Declan asked.

'Call it intuition. What will you need?'

'Communications and connections, data links, anything you can let me have.'

'I can't do much tonight. Tomorrow I'll get a work station installed in the next location, and you'll have complete access to everything I can find.'

'You mentioned Phasewave. How much do I need to know about it? Is there a technical aspect to this case?'

'Yes, you'll be hearing a lot about Phasewave: it's the focal point.'

'Can you supply me with information from the manufacturer?'

'I'll do my best; you should have something by mid-day. What's your impression of Jenna?'

'It sounds like she's been through a difficult time. Let's hope we can turn up something that the others missed.'

'Parts of what she's going to come out with will surprise you; this isn't a straightforward affair.'

'We'll get there.'

Gil checked the time. 'I'll be on my way now and will be in touch again in the morning. Good night and good luck.'

Declan saw Gil to the door and stood and savoured the intense silence in the room. He looked around him. Behind his cases, the bed invited him to lie down and rest, but Declan knew that if he succumbed to temptation, the remainder of the night would be lost. He fought back his lethargy and started to unpack one of the cases. What would the support team use for surveillance? He picked up one of his crumpled shirts and held it to his face, the smell of cold metal and chemicals bringing back instant memories of Scion. What could Jenna possibly have done that was so significant? How did unexplained deaths feature in the investigation? It seemed unlikely, but if space sickness was involved, anything could happen.

There were no immediate answers to those questions, so he pushed them aside and used the bathroom to wash his face and hands. Feeling only slightly refreshed, he then made his way back to the lounge where he intended to make the most of the few remaining hours at his disposal.

#####  Chapter Three

'I don't suppose you've been to Bouron?' Jenna sat curled on a chair with her feet tucked beneath her.

'No, I've never been there,' Declan replied.

'How much have you already heard about this case?'

'Only that Phasewave figures in this investigation, so why don't you start by telling me what you were doing on Bouron?'

'You don't know anything about Phasewave either, do you?' Jenna said. 'How long do you think it's going to take just to cover the basics?'

'It will be a lot quicker if you leave the questioning to me.'

'This is a very technical subject. If we don't have anything in common, we're not going to achieve much.'

Declan's enthusiasm waned as he felt an argument about to start. 'All I know is that Bouron was originally named Outstation Forty, but when Phasewave was first introduced five years ago, it adopted the name of one of the Old Colonies.'

'You don't have to tell me that,' Jenna snapped, and Declan was again reminded that she was a Colonist.

Declan tried a different approach. 'Let's not start off on the wrong foot. I know that you find it hard to accept the way I operate, but I cannot change it. We must not argue. I need all our available time together to listen to you and try to understand what you are saying. Simply explain what happened on Bouron, and leave the rest to me.'

Jenna stared at Declan suspiciously, then changed position on the chair and folded her legs in the opposite direction.

'I have no background on you,' Declan continued, 'so just tell me what happened in the beginning. We can come back to Bouron later.'

'Bouron was the beginning. That was where it all began.'

'What was the connection between Bouron and the Phasewaves?' Declan asked.

'Bouron used to be a relay station for the old Extranet,' Jenna explained. 'After Phasewave took over the communications network, Bouron became the central control station synchronizing all Phasewave transmissions. Without Bouron, you could not operate the Intranet. There is nothing on Bouron apart from the Phasewave base; the rest of the planet is a wasteland of dust and rock. I was one of a maintenance crew sent out on a one-year contract to maintain the Phasewave units.'

Declan listened, and in his mind a picture began to emerge of a deserted expanse of barren land where rocks battled against encroaching dust, and a cluster of squat buildings huddled together for protection against the harsh atmosphere. 'Who else was with you?' he asked.

'I keep asking myself that.' Jenna laughed at a private joke, but her laughter lacked any humour. 'All I can tell you for certain is who I arrived with.' A faraway look appeared in Jenna's eyes.

'Why do you say that was the start point?'

'It was then that we first found out something had gone wrong.' Jenna relaxed in her chair. 'We had arrived at Bouron on board the _Giran_ , the shuttleship that took us out, and were orbiting the planet waiting to replace the outgoing crew. The landing craft was down on the base and had been out of contact for ages.'

'Who was on the landing craft?'

'Two of the _Giran_ 's crew went down. Birne, the captain, was one and he took down another pilot whose name I can't remember. They had completed the supply drop but stayed at the base for three days, and we were becoming worried about them.'

'Was that unusual?'

'It certainly was. Normally the crew being relieved could not get away from the place fast enough, so we knew something was wrong. Because normal radio communications are not possible that close to a Phasewave base, the landing craft always goes down first to make sure everything is in order. If there are no major problems, it then returns and takes down the arriving crew for a handover before bringing back the departing crew. The landing craft is rarely away for more than two or three hours.'

'You said "we". Who was with you?'

'Vance, the crew chief, and Brant the installation engineer. I'm systems.'

'What was your relationship with Vance and Brant?'

'I hardly knew them, but I didn't have much time for Vance.'

'I take it you were close to Brant.'

'What made you say that?' Jenna asked.

'I was only referring to the fact that Brant was a close friend.'

'You said you knew nothing about me. How did you work that out?'

Declan felt his patience stretch. 'If we are going to make any progress, we must level with each other. I will explain why I made that statement, and, in future, you are going to have to trust me, or we will run out of time. While you were talking about waiting to go down to the planet, you started to look anxious, and your expression did not change at the mention of Birne and Vance. However, when Brant's name cropped up, your facial expression altered, which indicated to me that, of the people you named, Brant was the one to whom you were closest.'

Jenna remained unconvinced. Was Declan trying to trick her into making an admission?

Declan anticipated her reaction. 'I'm not probing; I'm genuinely trying to establish what happened. You must expect such questions from me at any time. Now, you were orbiting the planet ....'

'We were waiting for Birne.' Jenna sat back, guarded and unsure of Declan's intentions. 'I didn't know Brant very well at that time.'

'Birne obviously did return from Bouron, or you wouldn't be here,' Declan said.

Jenna sat in a daze, thrown by what Declan had told her. She gave him an uncertain smile. 'Birne came back all right, but he brought some bad news with him. Yes, I suppose that was how it all began; that was when this whole mess started.'

****************

Planet Bouron, Phasewave relay base – Colonial year 1449

The landing craft lurched alarmingly as it lifted into the failing light. 'Perhaps this isn't such a good idea,' Ingo suggested. 'We could delay until morning.'

Birne struggled with the controls and levelled the vessel above the planet surface. 'I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to.' A movement outside the cockpit caught his eye, and he looked up from the instruments to see a wall of darkness rolling across the plain towards them. He stared in amazement at the approaching night shadow, its perspective distorted by specular compression, until a gas generator surged in the rarefied atmosphere and diverted his attention back to the gauges. He reduced power and stabilized the landing craft in a hover.

'Would you look at that?' Ingo commented.

'I'll depart down-sun.' Birne reset the power levers and as he did so, he recalled a voice from the past explaining that every journey has its magic moment, the one exceptional, memorable event that becomes forever linked to the particular journey, and he realized that he was about to take part in one of those rare experiences.

The ungainly machine rotated about its axis, losing height and triggering an alarm in the process.

'Need any help?' Ingo asked, as the shadow edge plunged the flight deck into a premature darkness, broken only by the diffuse glow of the instrument panel lights.

'Set the power for me, will you?' Birne grunted. He concentrated on the instruments until the vessel steadied on heading and responded to an increase in thrust. 'Where's the nearest obstacle?'

'Aerials – one hundred meters left of track, two thousand meters range.' Ingo re-checked his displays. 'It looks like a tracker station; you'll clear it on this heading.'

The landing craft began the transition to forward flight, pitching uneasily as the airflow tugged at its stabilizers. Birne pulled back on the controls and again found the cockpit bathed in glowing red light, while before him the night front advanced across the deserted landscape, engulfing all in its unstoppable flow. By making slight adjustments to the controls, he found that he could dip in and out of the top of the dark wedge, one moment diving into blackness, the next emerging into the dull glare of the setting sun, and all the time careering along with the black column, riding the tide that flooded the planet with its wake. It was, he decided, a magnificent experience, a truly magic moment if ever there was one.

'It's time to go,' Ingo urged.

Birne felt a wave of relief wash through his body as he realised that he was finally on his way back. He burst into laughter. Six months of accumulated leave awaited him when he got to Vennica – half a year away from work and the cramped confines of the _Giran_. Soon Bouron would be behind him, and, with luck, he would never have to return.

Then they left the shadow edge behind and were hurtling at speed into a featureless twilight. Birne suddenly tired of the game. Ingo was right; it was time to go. He hit another set of switches, pointed the vessel's nose into the lowering sky and rocketed away from the planet surface, leaving behind two slowly spreading vortices of dust for the pursuing darkness to absorb.

The approaching satellite layer filled the sky ahead. Ingo looked expectantly at Birne, who sat hunched in his seat, preoccupied with his thoughts. 'You're going to miss the gate,' he warned.

Birne slid his seat back on its rails. 'Here, you take over.' He watched the younger man gratefully seize the controls and felt the landing craft quiver as it locked onto the beam that would take them into the safety lane and guide them through the satellite belt. Birne yawned loudly and wondered if life had always been this difficult or if it was just his memory that was failing, and he wished that he had still had the energy of youth on his side, along with the necessary mental resources to resolve their problem. He rubbed the sand-prickle from his burning eyes and thought hard. Every problem had to have a solution. Well, nothing so far had sprung to mind, so perhaps this problem was the exception to the rule.

A blinding flash of light lit up the sky and made them both jump. Birne looked outside in time to see a huge electrical discharge snake downwards and strike the planet on the horizon.

'Do the storms normally reach this height?' Ingo asked.

'They're getting higher all the time,' Birne said, 'but that's the first strike I've seen reach the ground. If they continue to develop at this rate, the Company will need to raise the satellite belt. Years ago, before your time, there was no electrical activity here at all, but now you get storms every night. Did you notice how the lights inside the base sometimes lit up by themselves? Stray currents are responsible for that, and they first appeared on the planet when the Phasewaves started up. If you dig down under the base, you'll find tunnels burnt through the foundations where currents have leaked from the sub-drives.'

'This place is an accident waiting to happen.' Ingo paused to observe the symmetrical structure of a satellite pass close by. 'I'm not sorry to be saying goodbye.'

'That accident may have already happened.' Birne remained deep in thought until the last of the obstacles was out of sight and the landing craft had changed course towards a cluster of distant, artificial lights where the _Giran_ awaited them. The craft shifted sideways as the auto-stabilization took over the controls and started to hunt for the homing beam. 'We're going to have to work together on this one.'

'We can't change anything now.'

'You and I know things that the others don't,' Birne said. 'Before we can pull out and head for home, we've got to convince them that it's the right decision, and we can't afford to waste any more time.'

'Surely the crew will want to return to Vennica.'

'If they had any sense they would, but before they quit, they'll try to make sure that we take responsibility for that decision.'

'How have we suddenly become involved?'

Birne felt tired. Yes, why were they involved? Crap always happened, but he had been here before, and this time he was determined to let someone else take the lead.

'You sound as though you've seen this before.' Ingo echoed Birne's thoughts.

'I have. We're already days behind schedule, and I don't want to stay in this dump any longer than necessary. The relief crew will need to make a quick decision. It may sound straightforward, but it never is.'

'What do you think they'll do?'

'Scream and shout. Vance will be the main problem. I can't see him giving up his bonus without a fight, but the others are younger, and I don't think they will be keen to stay. As far as I'm concerned, we have to do everything according to the book. When we return to Vennica, the Phasewave Company will certainly start asking questions, and we need to convince it that we acted correctly and did not attempt to influence the maintenance crew's decision in any way. After what we've found, I know this could turn sour. Be careful to stick to our story, and don't offer any options; let the crewmembers make up their own minds. Come the time to dish out blame, at which the Phasewave Company is particularly accomplished, those engineers are going to try to save their own skins. Whatever we decide now could sound pretty thin when we're facing an inquiry in three months' time.'

'I know what my decision would be.'

'The incoming crew have had three days to worry why we're late back, but I don't think they'll be prepared for what we're about to tell them.'

The homing beam captured their vessel with small, impatient movements, and shortly afterwards, the gravity shifted under the force of the deceleration. Recognition lights flashed against the dark outline of the _Giran_ 's hull. Birne quickly checked the flight deck and readjusted his seat. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to feel a whole lot happier once they were on the way back to Vennica. The approach indicators lit up in sequence, and a welcoming, square patch of light opened in the darkness ahead. Once their craft had established its approach path, it reduced speed in anticipation of the docking. Birne heaved a sigh of relief, once more glad to be back in his own domain. 'Just remember, we have to cover ourselves,' he stressed.

'We're both singing the same song, so there's no need to worry. Everyone will jump at the chance to get away from here.'

'Maybe,' Birne said. Maybe not, he thought. Who would want to stay on Bouron after what they had found? On the other hand, what exactly had they found?

****************

Jenna stood by Declan's side in the kitchen and watched him examine the water boiler. 'You must have seen one of those before.'

'Not like this. How can so much technology be crammed into such a small space?'

'You've been out of circulation for too long.'

'Turn your back for a moment and everything becomes instantly obsolete,' Declan observed. 'Would you like some coffee?'

Declan poured Jenna a cup of coffee and took a bottle of water from the cooler. He walked slowly around the room, trying to ease the pain inside his joints. The flat liquid tasted unfamiliar after the recycled water on Scion.

Jenna sat quietly, sipping her coffee and casting her mind back to the fateful day when Birne had appeared and broken the news about Bouron. Declan pulled up an adjacent chair and tried to arrange the few facts he had in his possession into some kind of order. 'I take it Vance was the leader of your group.'

'That's right. He was the Chief Engineer; he was the person in charge.'

'What was the relationship between Vance and Brant? Did they get on?'

'It was hard to tell,' Jenna said. 'Brant was easy-going, and Vance had taken a shine to him.'

'How did Vance treat you?'

'He was very off-hand with me. I got the impression he perceived women to be a threat.'

'In what way did he display that attitude?'

'Not directly. He was always waiting for me to make mistakes and then would keep coming out with snide comments. He wouldn't let it drop. Nobody's perfect, but if Brant screwed up, Vance never said a word about it.'

'What about Brant? Did he usually side with Vance?'

'Not very often, and if he did, it was never in an obnoxious way. Brant tried not to take sides and didn't like to get involved in anything controversial; he usually kept his opinions to himself and let Vance get on with it.' Jenna thought again about Vance. Her first impression of him had not been a good one, and none of the subsequent events had altered that opinion. He had schemed to make them stay on Bouron, and she had fallen for it. She clearly remembered it taking place, but until that moment, Vance had never given her the impression of being clever. What was the expression she had used to describe him?

****************

Jenna studied the obese figure staring out of the viewing port at the planet below. What was the word she was looking for? Pathetic! That was it! She turned back to her writing machine.

Kym, you would simply adore Vance. Pathetic and weak is the only way I can describe him; I am surprised that he is actually the senior man out here. The other engineer, Brant, hardly says a thing and just keeps agreeing with Vance. I cannot work out whether I like Brant or not, especially as he ignores me most of the time. I need to keep reminding myself why I am doing this, or I will be out of my mind after a year alone with these two. Still, there is no point in complaining because it was my choice, and the money will come in useful when I get back to real life. Sorry if I sound so depressed, but we have been stuck in orbit for three days waiting to be taken down, and everyone is getting frustrated. The crew are still on the base, so whatever is causing the delay must be serious, and we will not find out until they return. I guess I really messed up back home and wish I could have seen you before I left, but you were still doing your circuit of the Outstations. In the meantime, if Erwin starts asking questions, tell him that I have gone back to the New Colonies. That should put him off my track for a while. Maybe everything will have settled down by the time I get back, but somehow I doubt it. I had better finish now. If we are allowed down, I will give this to one of the Giran's crew to drop off at Shuttleport. I am looking forward to seeing you next time I am home.

Jenna scribbled her name across the screen and switched off the machine. Finally, her one outstanding job before landing on Bouron was completed. A flashing light outside the _Giran_ attracted Jenna's attention, and she saw the familiar shape of the landing craft emerge through the circling ring of satellites. At last they were about to find out the cause of the delay. The others had also seen it.

'What story do you think they'll come up with?' Vance asked. 'My guess is disease.'

Brant stretched lazily. 'There's probably been an accident.' He looked at Jenna and hesitated slightly before including her in the conversation. 'What's your opinion, Jenna?'

'It could have been a system breakdown,' Jenna replied. 'Maybe they were trying to fix it before the handover.'

'You don't know this lot,' Vance said. 'If a technical problem was threatening to delay their return, we'd be the last to find out. Take my word for it.'

'Something could have gone wrong with the landing craft,' Brant suggested.

'Well, we'll soon know for sure.' Jenna replaced her writing machine in its case and tried to muster the energy to talk to the others. 'What do you guys plan to do with yourselves for the next year?'

Vance chuckled. 'I hope to do as little as possible. Have you worked with Phasewave before?'

Jenna shook her head.

'You shouldn't find it too demanding,' Vance said condescendingly. 'I'll teach you all you need to know. Phasewave is incredible stuff; nobody really understands what it's capable of doing.'

'I can't wait.' Jenna inwardly groaned. Was she going to have to suffer Vance's patronizing for a whole year?

'Are you familiar with any of the crew we're taking over from?' Brant asked.

'Yes, the Chief Engineer is a guy called Carrick.' Vance scowled. 'A couple of years ago I spent some time with him, and he is someone you definitely wouldn't want to cross. He comes with a partner, Ellen, who is even worse than he is, if that's possible. Working with the two of them was a nightmare.'

'In which case, a year in this place probably won't have improved their temperaments,' Brant said.

Jenna caught another glimpse of the approaching landing craft. It was much closer this time, and she watched as it slowly drifted beneath the _Giran_ on its way to the docking bay. As it disappeared from sight, she could not help wondering what its pilots would have to say when they came back aboard.

Vance stared at the two pilots in disbelief. 'Four people can't have disappeared without trace.'

Birne faced the three crewmembers. 'They're not on the base. We searched all the installations and buildings, and there was no sign of anyone.'

'They must have left some indications behind,' Brant said. 'What state was the base in?'

'The last log entries were made three months ago, but the base looked as if the crew had walked out moments before we arrived. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. It was exactly as you would expect to find any operational base: everything was in place inside the cabins and the emergency equipment was unused.'

'This doesn't add up,' Vance said. 'If the crew members aren't inside the base, where are they?'

'I have no idea,' Birne replied.

'Are you're suggesting that four people left the protection of the base and went outside knowing that they were facing certain death?' Brant said. 'Why would anyone in their right minds do that?'

'All I'm saying is that we've searched everywhere we would expect a crew to go for shelter and found no sign of them. I cannot explain what happened to the crew; you must draw your own conclusions.'

'What about the skimmers?' Jenna asked. 'Were they all there?'

'We found some skimmers,' Ingo said.

'And there was a locker full of pressure suits,' Birne added. 'I don't know how many there should have been; you people know more about that kind of thing than I do.'

'It sounds like they're all accounted for,' Vance said. 'Shit, this is a real problem. We're going to have to contact the Company to see what they want us to do.'

'Let me remind you that we'll be halfway home before we're out of Phasewave shadow and able to make contact with Vennica,' Birne said.

Brant stepped forward. 'Hey, hang on. You can't just walk away from this. It's not our fault that the crew is missing; you know as well as we do that we can't stay on Bouron until we find out what happened to them.'

'What I do know is that I'm now running three days late, and I've got to take the _Giran_ back to Spaceport as soon as possible. I've a schedule to keep and need to return this ship on time.'

'Obviously the crew wouldn't have abandoned the base without due cause,' Brant said. 'Now you're holding a gun to our heads to make us follow the same route.'

'As I keep saying, I'm not asking you to do anything. I'll be more than happy to either leave you here or take you back to Spaceport; it makes no difference to me. Talk it over among yourselves, and I'll come back in an hour. That's all the time I can give you.'

Brant watched the two men leave the room. 'Thanks for nothing. Those bastards know we can't make a decision without anything to go on. What do they expect us to do?'

Vance slumped heavily into a seat. 'This is something we hadn't considered.'

'All we've learnt so far is that there are probably four bodies somewhere on the planet,' Brant said. 'It doesn't sound like Birne put much effort into finding them.'

Still reeling from the shock of the news, Jenna searched the faces of the two men. 'Unless they were evacuated by another ship,' she suggested.

'That's the most logical explanation,' Vance said, 'but if that was the case, they would have left messages, shut down equipment, and taken their belongings with them. Who in their right minds would walk out on a bonus after completing their stint?'

Jenna stared at the satellites below. She tried to think clearly about her next move, but how could she make a decision based on the few facts they had been given? She needed more time.

Bouron was still faintly visible beneath the night shadow. Vance looked down through the satellite belt and tried to make sense of Birne's new revelations. The planet surface was an endless expanse of dust, and if the crew weren't inside the base, they must have perished out there. As for staying, he personally had no choice. There was no way he could he return to Vennica without his year's pay; his life depended on it. Brant and Jenna would almost certainly not want to go down without knowing what had happened to the previous crew, but he could not risk staying on his own; he needed someone with him in case he became ill. The thought of coming all that way to die on his own in the back of nowhere made him feel sick. How could he persuade one of the others to stay? Was it dangerous down there? A cold prickle of sweat spread down his back. He thought furiously. Jenna was the key, and if he could persuade her to stay, Brant would probably follow suit.

'In one hour's time, we'll know no more than we do now,' Jenna said. 'We have no choice but to return to Vennica.'

'At first sight that might appear to be the case,' Vance carefully said, 'but it's not strictly true.'

The others turned and looked at him.

'We can't remain on the base until we discover the whereabouts of the crew,' Brant said. 'Their bodies could be anywhere.'

'What exactly are you suggesting?' Jenna said. 'That we just go down there and pretend everything is normal?'

'It's beginning to look that way,' Vance replied.

'Be serious,' Brant said. 'Four people are missing, and you maintain that nothing has happened. What are you trying to say?'

'I'm looking at things from the Company's point of view. At this moment in time, there is no evidence to indicate that the crew has come to any harm. In fact, all the reports we have received indicate that they were engaged in normal activities until the moment of their disappearance.'

'So everything's right until it goes wrong?' Jenna pointed out. 'That's an odd kind of logic.'

'I'm only being objective,' Vance said. 'Right now, all we can reach is a tentative conclusion based on a lack of evidence rather than on any facts that would indicate the whereabouts of the crew. If we decide not to stay, what explanation for our actions are we going to offer the Company when we get back to Vennica? Are we really going to stand there and say that we refused to stay on Bouron because we didn't like what Birne had told us? I've had personal experience of the way the Company deals with people who come out with stories like that. We must be able to defend our decision.'

'We'll have the union on our side,' Brant said.

'And what are we going to tell the union? Are we seriously going to tell them that we abandoned a perfectly serviceable Phasewave base, the most important control centre in the whole network, without a shred of evidence to justify our actions? I don't think so. The union will need something solid to work on, or they won't want to know. Very soon, it will be too late to change our minds, so we must fully understand any decisions we make. Personally, I don't think I have any reason to leave the base unattended, but if you choose otherwise, I'll respect that decision.'

Brant turned to Jenna. 'What do you say?'

'I think this whole thing stinks. How could anyone expect us to enter an area where four people have disappeared without knowing what happened to them?' Jenna stared at Vance. 'There's an unknown risk down there. Do you want to end up suffering the same fate?'

'The people who are paying our salaries will probably see things differently,' Vance said. 'The Company is picking up the cost of sending us out here to look after the base for a year, so when it discovers that Bouron has been abandoned, they are going to go to a lot of expense and trouble to get another crew out here as fast as possible. Meanwhile, the network could suffer a total shutdown if the Phasewaves start to malfunction. Phasewave contracts come with expensive penalty clauses, so if we're talking about gridlock, it's serious stuff. That's why I'm saying we have to be clear where we're going before anyone calls quit.'

The setting sun etched a golden rim on the black planet edge, but the sight only filled Jenna with a cold emptiness. They could not seriously consider staying after hearing what Birne had told them, although she had to concede that Vance had a point – they were going to take all the blame if there was a network malfunction. On the other hand, could she face working there for a year knowing that there were four bodies in the immediate vicinity?

'This is bad,' Brant said. 'I don't like it.'

'Something out of the ordinary has happened that nobody likes,' Vance said, 'but right now it's not down to a question of liking it or not. We're the ones on the spot, and it's now our decision to stay or go. Jenna is right: no matter how long we stay in orbit, we aren't going to learn any more about what's gone on down there.'

'Count me out,' Brant said. 'This is one mess I don't want to get caught up in.'

'That's entirely understandable,' Vance said. 'We've all got personal decisions to make; it's up to you to do what your conscience dictates.'

'You sound as if you've already made up your mind to stay,' Jenna said.

'This kind of thing doesn't bother me. I've come across worse situations, and it'll look better if somebody stays behind to maintain a presence.'

'Oh, come on,' Brant said. 'You're not doing this just for us. Jenna and I can look after ourselves.'

'I know you can, but if I have no objections to staying here, it will satisfy everyone. You two go back to Vennica, and I'll wait for the relief crew. It will only take a few months to get one out; they'll probably combine it with the next supply run.'

Jenna found Brant staring at her as if he was trying to read her mind. She looked down at the floor. 'This is crazy. We have to stick together; Vance can't do this by himself.'

'Don't let anything I've said change your minds,' Vance said. 'This is important; we each have to do what we think is right. Forget the teamwork bit.'

Jenna returned to the viewing screen and saw that the sun had dropped out of sight behind the dark mass that was Bouron. She tried to think clearly but knew that she could not leave Vance by himself. She turned and looked at Brant. 'I think that if Vance stays, we ought to stay with him.'

'What are you saying?' Brant cried. 'Are you mad? You've no idea what might happen to us if we go down there.'

'We've come this far, and I don't want to go back empty-handed. I say we stick together. If one of us stays, we all stay.'

It was Brant's turn to pace the room. He finally stopped in front of Vance. 'I'm sorry, but I'm going back.'

'That's fine,' Vance said. 'I don't blame you one bit, and I'm sure Jenna doesn't. Is that right, Jenna?'

'You go home, Brant,' Jenna said. 'The base appears to have been running itself for the last three months, so I doubt we'll be faced with anything we won't be able to cope with.'

Brant felt the tension twist his stomach into a knot. Jenna was not as tough as she was trying to make out. He saw the pain behind her eyes and knew that he could not leave her alone with Vance. If Jenna came to harm, he would not be able to live with himself.

'What about this for an idea?' Vance suggested. 'We all go down and inspect the base for ourselves. Then, if there's anything we don't like or consider to be dangerous, we come straight back to the _Giran_ and return to Vennica. That way, no-one can say we didn't do our best for the Company.'

'There isn't time,' Brant said. 'The _Giran_ has to leave within the hour.'

'Take no notice of Birne. All that stuff about making his schedule is hot air; a few hours either way won't make any difference to his movements. Does my suggestion sound fair to everyone?'

Jenna shrugged. 'It sounds fair enough to me. What about you, Brant?'

'I agree, but with one condition. After we've searched the base, I say we take a vote. If it's unanimous we stay, if not we leave.'

'That won't work,' Vance quickly interjected. 'It has to go with the majority.'

'We can't leave anyone alone down there,' Jenna said. 'If two of us vote to leave, the other has to come back with them, and if two of us vote to stay, then the other can come back on his or her own.'

'Okay,' Vance said. 'This is what we're going to do. We all go down, and if there's anything we don't like the look of, we quit there and then. Nothing could be fairer.'

Brant thought it over. 'I don't know.'

'It's got to be the most practical solution,' Vance said, sensing victory. 'This way, no individual can force the issue.'

'If you both think it's worth a try, I guess it's all right by me,' Brant said uncertainly, 'but Birne isn't going to like the idea of hanging around while we check out the base.'

'Birne's afraid of getting his hands dirty,' Vance said. 'So far as I'm concerned, he can stuff his stupid schedules. We'll politely ask him to take us down to inspect the base, and if he refuses, we can sit back and let him do the explaining when we arrive at Vennica. Believe me, he won't go for that.'

'We've nothing to lose,' Jenna added.

Brant was unresolved. 'I still don't like the sound of it, but I'll go down only on condition that we search right through the base and make sure that nothing has been overlooked. Who's going to break the news to Birne?'

'Leave that pleasure to me,' Vance said. 'I'd hate to let anyone else spoil his day.'

Jenna packed up her writing machine and started to leave the room, but before reaching the exit, she turned on impulse and saw a look of triumph on Vance's face. It was only after reaching her cabin that it occurred to her that Vance had deftly manipulated her, but quite how she was unable to determine.

****************

#####  Chapter Four

Declan was weary and no longer able to concentrate on what Jenna was saying. 'Let's take a break,' he said. He stood up and stretched his legs. What he was hearing sounded like the start of a bizarre story, but it was too soon to reach any conclusions, and he needed to maintain an open mind. Could anyone suffering from space sickness be so lucid without revealing other signs of the affliction? Then he remembered something that had been puzzling him. 'Why couldn't you use the _Giran's_ Extranet to contact the Company?'

'We were inside Phasewave shadow,' Jenna replied. 'The Phasewaves on Bouron operate together and their combined output is so powerful that it swamps all other types of transmissions. That's why the landing craft could not contact the _Giran_ from the surface of Bouron and why the maintenance crew spend the whole year out there in isolation. Their only external contact during that time is when the _Amar_ , the supply ship, calls after six months.'

'At what point in the journey did you lose radio contact with Vennica?'

'Probably just after halfway. Peripheral Phasewave bases are restricted to four Phasewave units and at least five hundred kilometres separation between bases is required to avoid interference with each other. Bouron is different from a normal Phasewave base because it is the central control station for the Intranet, and produces the Wave. Once you link the twelve Phasewave units on Bouron to generate the Wave, their combined power output blocks other transmissions for millions of kilometres in all directions.'

Jenna had only just come to life, but Declan was desperate to rest. 'I really need to get some sleep,' he said.

'Before you go, would you like to hear what happened after we arrived on Bouron?'

Declan hesitated. 'Are you sure you want to continue tonight?'

'I don't sleep much nowadays,' Jenna said, and without giving Declan chance to reply, she recommenced the story of her arrival on Bouron.

****************

'You still have time to change your mind and come back with me.' Birne looked at the stark interior of the loading bay as if expecting to find the solution to their problem revealed on its bare walls.

'There's no point,' Jenna said. 'We've already seen everything we wanted to see, and I don't think we're going to find anything now. This place is uncanny; it looks as if the crew walked out yesterday.'

'I wish you luck during your stay. Don't forget that the supply run isn't due for six months.'

Under the harsh glare of the base lights, the landing craft waiting to take Birne back to the _Giran_ crouched on the ramp outside like a huge insect. Jenna looked at it and fought against the almost overwhelming urge to walk away with Birne and return to Vennica, leaving Bouron and its dark secrets behind.

Birne saw Jenna's drawn features and knew that all he needed to do was to reach out and take her with him, but he accepted that she was battling something she had chosen to face by herself. No matter what Jenna's problem was, spending a year on Bouron with two strangers was probably the worst cure he could imagine. Simply saying goodbye was not enough. Birne started to speak, but was interrupted by a sound outside the base. The noise grew louder – it was the angry voices of an approaching crowd.

Jenna was startled. 'What's that?'

'It's nothing to be concerned about; the Phasewaves are talking to each other.'

'No, I can hear voices!' Jenna exclaimed. 'There are people outside! It's the missing crew!'

'It's only the machines. They work best at full capacity, so every now and again they transfer loads to ensure maximum efficiency. The process temporarily upsets their synchronization, and that's the sound they make during the transfer.' Birne raised his hand. 'Listen!'

The distant voices slowly died away, leaving them in silence again.

'Now they're back in synch,' Birne said. 'It doesn't happen often; you'll get used to it.'

'It's not what you expect to hear when you think you're on your own.' Jenna shivered and pulled her jacket tightly around her. 'I don't think I'll ever get used to that.'

'You don't have to stay if you don't want to. It's not too late.'

'Don't worry. I'll be okay.' Jenna pulled back a wisp of hair from her eyes and gave him a nervous smile. 'Explain one more thing before you leave: what are those lights?'

Birne turned and followed Jenna's direction to where a line of coloured lights flickered and glowed along a stretch of horizon. 'It's an approaching electrical storm,' he said. 'Until the size of the satellite belt was increased, there was no electrical activity on Bouron, but now these storms are quite common. I think the continuous Phasewave activity must have upset the climate on this planet. The lights are the best thing around and can be quite spectacular.'

Jenna watched spikes of colour ripple into the sky, shattering the darkness.

'I'd better be away before that lot reaches us.' Birne picked up his travel case and made to leave. 'One last thing before I go. I've downloaded into your log a set of line-scans covering most of this side of Bouron and the area outside the base. I've had a quick look at them but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. They could be useful if you decide you want to investigate any further.'

'Thanks,' Jenna said. 'We probably will once we're settled in.'

There was a strained lull in the conversation while Birne fastened up his pressure suit and put on his gloves and helmet. He then gave Jenna a brief wave goodbye before turning for the airlock. After a short while, the landing craft's motors whined into life, and the machine moved away from the landing pad. Jenna remained at the window and watched until the departing craft's lights had disappeared into the glare of the approaching storm. Feeling lonely, Jenna walked back to her quarters and reflected that so far her year in isolation had not started as well as she had anticipated.

****************

'So we chose quarters next to each other, unpacked, and the nightmare began.' Tears sprang to Jenna's eyes, and she turned her face away.

'I'm sorry,' Declan said. 'Why don't we take a break until morning? I think we both could use some sleep.'

Jenna brushed the tears aside. 'You do want to hear all this, don't you?'

'Yes, but I'm struggling to stay awake. I'd rather take it up again when we're both feeling more alert.'

For the first time, Jenna noticed that Declan's eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue. 'I guess you're right,' she said. 'Let's start again tomorrow.'

Having bid Jenna goodnight, Declan returned to his room and once again confronted the worn cases stacked on the floor. He opened the first case and briefly examined its contents before deciding to leave the cases undisturbed until he reached the next venue. Declan undressed painfully and slowly, each aching joint a personal reminder of his damaged body and the unfamiliar Vennican gravity, which prompted him to wonder what Gil had been thinking of when he had asked if the stay on Scion had been worthwhile. He had sacrificed six years of his life for the sake of what he was beginning to perceive to have been a colossal indulgence, and now the scarred reminder of his former self served only to remind him of the error of his ways.

The pain continued to tighten its hold until it forced Declan to take one of the drugs he carried with him. While waiting for it to take effect he lay on the bed and gave in to his mental turmoil, allowing the seething whirlpool of his mind to wander as it wished until he eventually fell into a fitful sleep. In his dreams, images appeared of Scion3, the second largest structure ever built in space, followed by the first, formative picture of Bouron, a barren, dust-covered planet. Buildings sprang from the ground, surrounded by the distinctive structures of the Phasewave transceivers protruding through the dust like the gaping maws of hideous wild animals, thrusting skywards as if to snap at the circling satellites overhead.

Half way through the night, Declan awoke, disorientated and unable to recognize his surroundings. He lay shivering on the bed until he remembered where he was, then went and sat under a shower until its heat melted the cold inside his body. After he turned off the soothing spray, he sat for a while listening to the silence of the night before returning to bed where he slept, undisturbed, for the remainder of the night.

A soft breeze gently swung blinds against an open window, allowing the morning sun to project horizontal shadows across the room in flickering pulses. Standing there at that moment in time, Declan found it almost impossible to believe that he was deep under the centre of Kalmis instead of in open countryside.

'It's effective, isn't it?'

Declan spun round, startled to hear the sound of a voice.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump,' Jenna said.

'I thought I was on my own.' Declan gestured at the wall. 'This is so much like the real thing. I was trying to work out where the artificial light is coming from.'

'It gets boring after a while,' Jenna said. 'You're up early. Did you have a bad night?'

'I managed to get some sleep.' Declan saw from the shadows on Jenna's face that she too had not slept well. 'There's food next door. Do you want to eat?'

'Not yet. I'll stick with coffee.'

Declan poured them both a drink. He felt slightly detached, but the aches and pains in his joints had eased slightly from the previous night. He handed a cup to Jenna and followed her to a sitting area.

'Do you want to start now?' he asked.

'I'd like to get this over with as quickly as possible if you have no objections. All the time I worry I'm forgetting things. Talking of which, I'd like to ask a favour. I draw a lot, but I've have not had access to any drawing materials since I arrived on Vennica. Can you get me some paper, pencils, pens, materials like that?'

'I'll see what I can do. What do you draw?'

'I draw people, faces, places – practically anything. Later on, I will do some illustrations of life on Bouron for you.'

'How can you do that from memory?' Declan asked.

'I have a photographic memory,' Jenna said. 'Most of my illustrations are done after the event.'

'I am looking forward to seeing the output of your artistic expertise,' Declan said, 'but in the meantime, we should continue with your story.'

Jenna took a seat. 'Last night, I was telling you what happened after we landed on Bouron.'

'What did you find when you searched the base?'

'We went through the base from top to bottom, room by room, and found nothing at all. We turned the place upside down, but it was exactly as Birne had said – you would have thought that the previous crew had just left and would return at any time. There were no signs of a planned departure – no log entries, no system shut-downs, absolutely nothing.'

'Did you check for signs of contamination?'

'Yes. Birne was very thorough. He tested the atmosphere inside the base, but there were no organic compounds in the air, and the recycler filters were clean. The carbon dioxide levels were down, and there were no traces of human occupation. We were all convinced that the missing crew was elsewhere.'

'What about the logs?' Declan asked. 'Did they reveal anything?'

'The logs only contained routine entries, but the entries finished three months before we landed, and nothing had been recorded since. The whole thing was inexplicable.'

'After you searched the base, where did you think the missing crew were?'

'I assumed that they must have been taken off by ship, but none had been near Bouron when the last log entry was made. It was the only explanation I could think of, but that didn't tie in with the fact that they had left their personal possessions behind.'

'Was there anything to suggest that they were forced from the base?' Declan asked

'That proved not to have been the case.'

'Don't get ahead of me,' Declan warned. 'I need to work on the same information that was available to you.'

'Sure.' A thin frown line creased Jenna's brow as she tried to concentrate. 'After we arrived, we checked the data logs and confirmed from the satellite trackers that the last ship to have visited the base had been the _Amar's_ landing craft on the supply run three months before the crew disappeared. We could establish that for a fact because each time a ship passes through the safety lane, it moves the satellites slightly. The ground-based trackers monitor any unplanned movements and reposition the satellites back onto station. Whenever they move a satellite, a report is automatically submitted to the control room where it is recorded in the data log.'

'Would it have been possible for anything to have approached the base from a different direction?'

'No. The two contra-rotating rings of satellites give complete coverage of the visual horizon during the planet's daily cycle, and it would be impossible for anything to penetrate the inner ring without affecting at least several of them. The safety lane through the satellites is constantly moving; it repositions backwards and forwards each day according to the planet's rotation, always following the line of least resistance.'

Declan allowed Jenna's words to sink in. 'So you carried out a full search and found nothing out of the ordinary. What then was the first unusual event you encountered?'

'It started with the skimmers,' Jenna said.

'Explain please.'

'The dust layer on the surface of Bouron is too deep to support body weight for any length of time, so skimmers are the only practical means of transport outside the base. They are very basic machines, just two-man air-cushion vehicles, but the four belonging to the base were all unusable due to excessive wear. That was surprising because the only units sited outside the base complex, apart from the two nuclear generators, were the four tracker stations, which rarely required attention. We had to repair one of the skimmers before we could go to Tracker South.'

'I've missed something,' Declan said. 'Go back a stage. What happened to make you want to visit the tracker station?'

'One of them had stopped sending, and then we found tracks on the line-scan.'

'Tell me about the line-scan.'

****************

'Something's happened to Tracker South,' Jenna said. 'It hasn't submitted a status report in four months. That means it was inoperative one month before the crew disappeared, although there's nothing in the log about it.'

Brant walked across the control room and looked over Jenna's shoulder at the read-out on the screen. 'Are the others still sending?'

'They check out okay. Well, if that's the only malfunction, I'm not complaining. Is there anything on your side?'

'For some reason, a Phasewave has malfunctioned: Unit Nine is showing off-line,' Brant replied. 'I'm sure the crew would have recorded such a significant event if it had occurred while they were still on the base, so I can only presume it must have failed afterwards. I'll look at it later. In the meantime, Unit Eleven has taken over its load, and Unit Twelve is spare.'

'It might have been knocked out by a lightning strike,' Jenna said. 'I was watching a storm last night and saw a strike hit near the base.'

Brant looked through the window to where the empty plain stretched away under a pale grey sky. It was an uninspiring scene, but he would be seeing a lot of it over the next year. 'So, apart from those unserviceability's, everything is fully functional. Let's hope it stays that way.'

Jenna joined him at the window. 'What do you think happened to the crew?'

'People don't just vanish without trace, so I think they must be somewhere out there lying under the dust. The only other explanation I can come up with is that the crew left on a ship which went undetected by the trackers.'

'Aren't you worried about finding the bodies?'

'We've searched everywhere we intend to go during the next year and have found no trace of them. That suits me fine; I'm more than happy to leave it at that.'

'So you think the decision to stay was the right one?'

Brant studied Jenna's reflection in the window while he considered her words. She was slender, her waist the thickness of one of his thighs. Only her dark, striking eyes hinted at an inner strength. He found the thought of their being together for the next year disturbing. 'I've got used to it,' he said.

'I don't want to sound mean, but I wouldn't have enjoyed Vance's company on my own. I'm glad you stayed.'

Brant saw Jenna's eyes lock onto his and looked away. 'You haven't told me what you think happened.'

'Like you, I think that the most likely explanation is that the crew left by ship, although the trackers recorded no satellite corrections since the _Amar's_ last visit.'

'Maybe it was a small landing craft,' Brant suggested. 'The trackers can't always be one hundred per cent reliable, and we've already discovered that at least one of the four was unserviceable at the time of the crew's disappearance.'

'But all four trackers detected the supply drop when the _Amar_ visited two months before Tracker South failed, and the remaining three all logged the visits by the _Giran_ 's landing craft. In any case, why would the crew leave their personal belongings behind if they knew they were going to be taken off Bouron?'

'Search me. If it didn't happen that way, the only thing I can think of is that they must have gone insane.'

'If they were suffering from space sickness, they would have left signs of irrational behaviour behind. We've found nothing. The trackers ....'

'Forget the trackers,' Brant interrupted. 'Look, the crew aren't here, so they must have gone somewhere else. That's all there is to it.'

Jenna started to pursue the subject then changed her mind. She decided to try another approach. 'It's possible that Vance may have missed something in the logs. I'd like to go through them again with him.'

'You're wasting your time. I need to tell you something: Vance isn't well, and he's only come here to save up the money to buy an artificial heart. He told me he would last a couple of years at most unless he gets his heart seen to, so I don't think he'll be able to take much in the way of excitement. I thought I would warn you.'

'How did he get through the medical checks?' Jenna asked.

'He bribed the doctor. Don't look so shocked; it happens all the time.'

'That explains why he was so keen for me to stay with him.'

'You're learning,' Brant said.

The new information at least served to confirm Jenna's suspicions about Vance. 'Why didn't you tell me this on the way out?'

'Would it have made any difference?'

'It might have.'

'Until Birne broke the news about the missing crew, there was no need to,' Brant said. 'Remember, I was the one who didn't want to stay. I was the one who tried to persuade you to go back to Vennica; it was your decision to side with Vance.'

'Okay, okay, so it's my fault. What made you change your mind?'

'Give me a break. I couldn't leave you here alone with Vance. What kind of a person do you think I am?'

Jenna could not think of a reply. She looked down at her console and automatically continued to trawl through the data banks while she tried to accept what Brant had told her. It was now obvious to her that Vance had known all along what the outcome of his plan would be, and somehow she had managed to misread both men's intentions. It was something at which she was becoming an expert.

'What are those?' Brant asked.

Jenna found herself staring, unseeing, at aerial pictures of the base on Bouron. She pulled one up onto a larger screen for closer examination. 'These must be the scans taken by the _Giran_ , the ones Birne left for us.' She ran through a selection of scans showing aerial surveys taken with pictorial, thermal and radar imaging.

Something on an oblique line-scan caught Brant's attention. 'Hold it there. What made those marks?'

On the screen, numerous faint lines linked the base complex to a small building situated over a kilometre away. 'They look like tracks,' Jenna said. 'What made them?'

'There are lots of them. Nobody could walk that distance through the dust, so the tracks can't be footprints. They can only have been made by skimmers.'

Jenna magnified the image. 'There must be over a hundred tracks between the two buildings. Why do they all lead to one place, and why have they shown up only on this particular map?'

'This is a radar section, so the tracks are probably lying below the surface layer of dust. These look like old tracks, which could explain why they don't show up on the pictorial scans.'

'We need to find out what's so special about that particular building.' Jenna ran off a hard copy of the scan and, holding it in her hand, walked to each window in turn until she located the building in question. In the distance, a small white dome with its own complicated aerial display perched on a low rise.

'That's a satellite tracker.' Brant looked at the site plan on the wall. 'It's Tracker South, the one that's failed.'

'There's a coincidence. I wonder why so many journeys to that tracker were necessary.'

'The crew may have tried to fix it, but there's nothing in the log about any repairs being carried out.'

A disturbing thought lodged in Jenna's mind. 'I presume Birne and Ingo went inside the trackers during their first search.'

'They were down here for three days and told me that they had searched all the installations.'

'These scans were taken on the day we landed,' Jenna said. 'There don't appear to be any recent skimmer tracks leading to Tracker South, so it looks like they couldn't have searched outside the base.'

'To visit all four trackers they would probably have taken the landing craft, which wouldn't have left any traces. We should be able to work out the last time the skimmers were used by the charging states of their power units.'

'We need to know why all those journeys were necessary. How old are these trails anyway? Would they show up under the dust if they were three months old?'

'They probably would. What are you thinking?'

'We ought to take a look at that building,' Jenna said.

'Not until we've first cleared it with Vance.'

'We can't involve Vance. You just told me he wasn't well; he won't be interested in doing anything.'

'Vance is the crew chief, and we can't leave the base without his permission.'

'Unless we find something, he won't need to know. Let's visit Tracker South.'

'I'm not prepared to do that,' Brant said. 'You've only just arrived here, and you're already making your own rules. Vance is still our Chief Engineer, regardless of your opinion of him. I won't agree to help you unless he becomes involved.'

'All right, I'll go by myself.'

'No you won't. I stayed here to look after you, and I'll stop you if you try to go off on your own.'

'I don't believe we're having this conversation. Are you seriously telling me that I can't search for the missing crew members?'

'That's precisely what I am telling you. Four people are unaccounted for, and you want to break base regulations to go wandering off without knowing what happened to them. For God's sake, Jenna, listen to me. I'm trying to help you!'

'Help me? I'm ... is it always going to be like this?' Jenna lost her patience. 'Are we going to argue over nothing?'

'What's the matter? I'm only ....'

Jenna held up her hands. 'If it means we're going to fight, then I give in. So we have to tell Vance, but first let's check the skimmers.'

'That's fine by me, but we mustn't take unnecessary risks'

'Whatever,' Jenna said, feeling frustrated. 'Let's see if we can learn anything from the skimmers.'

Under the white glare of inspection lights, four skimmers lay lined up in their individual charging bays. Brant climbed onto the nearest one and ran the self-test, but the power source was dead. The adjacent skimmer indicated a major fault when he tried to start it, as did the two remaining skimmers. 'It's unheard of to find four skimmers inoperative,' he said. 'I can't understand why they've been allowed to get into this state; they look like they've never been maintained.'

'This one's practically worn out.' Jenna squatted down next to a skimmer and ran her fingers over a patch of torn, bare metal. 'What would cause wear like this? Can you fix them?'

Brant stood back and surveyed the skimmers. 'I might have to cannibalize a couple, but it'll depend on the state of the motors. I've no idea how long it will take, and Unit Nine's top of my list at the moment.'

'I can't help you with the skimmers, so while you sort something out, why don't I take a look at Unit Nine?'

'Okay, but let me know what you find, and be careful, the sub drive will still be active.'

Jenna looked him in the eye. 'Trust me for a change. I might surprise you.'

Brant watched as Jenna stepped lightly into the shadows of the cargo bay, taken aback by her remark. He started to remove the cowlings from the nearest skimmer and found himself smiling. So far, his anticipated year of boredom had failed to materialize, and now he was already starting to speculate how Jenna might surprise him.

#####  Chapter Five

It was about Brant and the skimmers that Jenna was thinking as she made her way along the access tunnel leading to the Phasewave units. She entered a corridor and after taking a few paces, noticed that someone had sealed the doors on either side of the corridor with quarantine tape. Jenna immediately realized that she had inadvertently entered the accommodation block that the previous crew had occupied, the block that Birne, as a sign of respect, had cordoned off before returning to the _Giran_. Jenna became curious. She furtively looked along the deserted corridor, almost expecting to find someone watching, and then quickly snapped the nearest tape and opened a door. The cabin was larger than hers was and contained a double bed that occupied the centre of the room. Jenna walked over to a small table next to the bed and picked up a framed hologram which, when held to the light, produced a three-dimensional picture of a serious-looking couple who Jenna instinctively knew to be Ellen and Carrick. Ellen was not unattractive, with a strong, square face, but Carrick had narrow eyes and a cruel mouth, and Jenna immediately took a dislike to him. She returned the frame to the table and inspected the room. Rumpled sheets lay untidily across the bed, and a pile of discarded clothing was stacked inside an open cupboard.

Jenna felt guilty prying into other peoples' belongings, but she wanted to learn more about the mysterious strangers who had spent the last part of their lives in that room. She rummaged through the drawers and lockers but found nothing out of the ordinary, then stood and tried to imagine Ellen and Carrick living in that room: talking, getting dressed, even making love. Was there anything inside the room that could yield the stored vibrations of those last hours before its occupants left, never to return? Jenna closed her eyes and let her mind drift, willing it to yield a clue, a hint, anything to throw light on the mystery.

Something brushed against the back of Jenna's neck and sent a shiver down her spine. She wheeled round, convinced that someone was standing close by, but only the blank emptiness of the room greeted her. A cold draught had played tricks with her imagination. She did not belong there, and the memories of the past deserved to rest in peace. Jenna returned to the door and was about to turn out the lights when a tiny dot of white light in the centre of a communicator screen caught her eye. The monitor must have been left on since the previous occupants left, she thought. She approached the monitor, only to find that the power was switched off at its supply point. So what was causing the light? Jenna stood back and examined the communicator, which was obviously inactive, and remembered a conversation with Birne about the lights in the base sometimes operating remotely. That explained the mystery: the stray electrical currents that flowed beneath the base were obviously causing the malfunction. Jenna took one last look at the contents of the room and then gratefully closed the door behind her, replaced the seals and continued her journey to the Phasewave unit.

The heavy door bearing the sign UNIT NINE swung ajar with a metallic grating sound. Jenna stepped inside the Phasewave unit and immediately smelt soot in the air. She examined the crowded racks of inert equipment, and then ran her hand along a horizontal surface. A black stripe across her fingers confirmed that there had been a fire in the room at some time. The Phasewave itself had suffered significant damage, and its main console and surrounding equipment casings were bowed and buckled as if they had been subjected to an enormous internal pressure. At least someone had attempted a repair: two vertical rails adorned the front console of the unit. The unusual fittings, which were not standard Phasewave parts, puzzled Jenna, and she got down on her knees to inspect the installation. A wiring harness led from the rails back to the unit. She followed the route of the harness to the rear of the unit and stared in amazement. Hundreds of neat, wire bundles festooned the connection panels, each one attached by old-fashioned thermal fuses. It was an incredible piece of workmanship. Jenna peered down inside the machine to where the modifications disappeared into its internal structure. At first sight, it looked as though whoever had carried out the work had accessed the plasma chamber, which would have been a hazardous operation at the best of times, and she wondered why anyone would risk opening up a plasma chamber when there were two more Phasewaves waiting to take up the load of the failed unit. She continued to follow the path of the modifications until she finally established that someone had indeed opened the plasma chamber, and then stood up and hurried from the room to find Brant.

As Jenna made her way into the accommodation complex, she speculated why it had been constructed with so many rooms when it was used by a maximum of four people at a time. In addition to her accommodation wing, and that of the previous crew, there were an additional six empty living rooms and various activity centres. It was as she passed the closed door to the recreation hall that she heard a noise. She stopped and quietly approached the door. The distinct sounds of movement and other, unrecognizable noises came through the metal panels, followed by a definitely human groan. Jenna's heart beat faster. Brant was in the cargo bay looking at the skimmers, and Vance never left his room. It sounded like someone was in pain, but no-one could be in there, she thought. She seized the handle and threw the door open wide, only to find Brant lying slumped over an exercise machine, soaked in perspiration and breathing heavily.

'What are you doing?' she cried.

Brant wiped the moisture from his eyes with a towel and shakily dismounted from the machine. 'It's the reduced gravity,' he gasped. 'You think you can do more than you were able to do on Vennica, then the gravity catches you out. I must have overdone it. Our bodies obviously don't see things the same way we do.'

Brant was wearing shorts, and it was the first time Jenna had seen him out of uniform. She was surprised to observe his well-muscled physique.

'What brings you here?' Brant asked.

'I thought you were working on the skimmers; I heard something as I went by.'

'Unfortunately, all of the skimmer turbines have been damaged in one way or another, and I need to get hold of some technical information before I can go any further with the repairs. This is just my way of keeping fit; I try to work out in here whenever I can.' Brant noticed Jenna staring at his body and wrapped his towel around him. 'What's the verdict?'

Jenna was stuck for words. 'Well, I guess ... I mean you look okay to me. I'm not much of an expert on that kind of thing.'

Brant' face broke into a grin. 'I was referring to the Phasewave. What's the score with Unit Nine?'

The sight of Brant's evident amusement at her mistake caused Jenna to blush. 'Put your clothes on and come with me; I'm going to show you something that'll take the smirk off your face.'

'You'd have to be out of your mind to open up a plasma chamber,' Brant said, staring inside the machine. 'At full capacity, this thing draws over fifty megawatts from the sub-drive, and the acceleration module is a sealed unit which can only be accessed with dedicated equipment. Still, whoever did the work at least had the sense not to tamper with the sub-drive.'

'Why would anyone want to do this in the first place,' Jenna asked, 'and what function do those rails on the front of the machine serve?'

'I'm as puzzled as you are. This work appears to be a modification of some sort, but a plasma chamber is an integral part of the acceleration unit and has no other application. What else could you possibly use it for?'

'Maybe that's what caused the explosion inside the Phasewave.'

Brant lifted a wiring loom and ran his hand beneath it. 'The soot is underneath the wires, which means that the explosion came first. Someone tried to modify this Phasewave afterwards. We need to talk to Vance.'

'Can we visit the tracker before we bring in Vance?'

'It could be days before I can get a skimmer serviceable, and this can't wait.' Brant ushered Jenna from the room. 'Something very strange has happened in here, and we have to find out what it was. Vance needs to be informed before we go any further.'

****************

Jarvine slouched in an armchair, idly watching the moving figures of Jenna and Declan on the video screen while he listened to a recording. He yawned loudly.

Jenna's thin and distant voice drifted through the wall-mounted speakers into the windowless room, '... there were no traces of human occupation. We were all convinced that the missing crew was elsewhere.'

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jarvine stiffened and slid his feet off the table. He quickly shut down the recorder and screens.

The door opened and Slater entered the room. 'Has she come out with anything yet?' he asked.

'Not much.' Jarvine reactivated the screens. 'She claims the people they went out to replace couldn't be found, says they vanished into thin air. That can't happen, can it?'

'I wish.' Slater threw his jacket over the back of a chair and joined Jarvine before a screen. 'I could make money out of a trick like that.'

'I mean, people can't just disappear, can they?'

'Jarvine, you and I both know it doesn't work that way. When people die, they leave behind one big, stinking mess. You can't hide a body, so make a feature of it. Leave it on show as a warning. Who just came in?'

'Gil, he went to fetch breakfast.'

The figures flitted back and forth across the screen to the background noises of domestic activity. For a brief moment, Declan appeared close to the hidden sensor, and his face loomed large on the screen before he re-joined the others at a table. Slater sneered at the image.

'Jenna also said one of the Phasewaves had burnt out and someone had tried to fix it,' Jarvine continued. 'It sounds like she's making it up as she goes along.'

'That's what comes from wasting your life on Bouron, but compared to that jerk Declan, she's almost normal.' Slater dropped his voice. 'Mind you, not everyone shares that opinion. Some people are taking her seriously, the kind of people who don't like what she's pushing around.'

'Why would anyone listen to her?' Jarvine asked.

'Someone's getting cold feet. Word is that they're prepared to pay a lot of money to stop stories about Phasewave getting out.'

Jarvine became instantly alert. 'What kind of word?'

'This is big. Are you interested?'

'How big are we talking?'

'Is five million big enough? That's two million apiece. We each get a million up front and another million on delivery.'

'What happens to the extra million?' Jarvine asked.

Slater tapped the side of his nose. 'That's for operational expenses. For some peculiar reason, people expect to be paid to look the other way.'

'Is anyone else involved?'

Slater grinned slyly. 'We get first pick. It's our show if we want it.'

Jarvine gave a low whistle. Two million each, waiting for the taking, just like that. He felt his pulse quicken. 'Who's behind it?'

'Who knows? But if I were in the business of making money out of Phasewave, I wouldn't be keen on the likes of Jenna shooting their mouths off.'

'Level with me. Are we talking about the same thing? Jenna goes down?'

'She has to go down.'

Jarvine continued to mull it over. 'Have you found out where Gil's taking them?'

'Plano,' Slater said. 'It's a holiday resort in the mountains. Gil's taken over the whole place; he's throwing money around like water.'

'What about security?'

'Gil's installed a support team in Plano – I'm pretty certain he's using Milo and that woman he hangs about with. All their inputs are going to be transmitted in code to this building for processing, and I'll be getting feedback from one of the operations staff who'll keep us updated on their movements.' Not for the first time, Slater congratulated himself on having had the foresight to tap into the surveillance system during its installation. 'I can't believe Gil's never suspected that his surveillance is blown. I bet he wouldn't know if he had a bug up his ass.'

'So there are only two people in the team.' Jarvine thought about it. 'This doesn't sound like a big-deal case to me.'

'And don't forget that we're automatically excluded from those arrangements,' Slater said. 'What's it feel like to be a player on Gil's team, to be an indispensable part of the Justice Department? Rumour has it that Gil's finally on the way out, and this is his last chance. The Department will close down if he can't come up with the goods, which is why he's so desperate to make a name for himself. My thinking is that this might be a good opportunity for us to help him on his way and pick up something for ourselves at the same time.'

'It's not going to be easy working close to the surveillance,' Jarvine pointed out. 'Have you got anything in mind?'

'I'm working on it.'

The two men sat and watched the screen while disjointed voices from the speakers interrupted the silence. Against the background clutter of noise, Jarvine heard Declan complain that he could not recognize the taste of real food.

'How are you going to get past Declan?' Jarvine asked.

'Declan goes down too.'

'What! No kidding?'

'There's no alternative. We can't expect Declan to ignore us while we pull the girl from under his nose. Even if he is a dork, he never knows when to quit, and I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking behind me.'

'He's still one of us.'

'You don't pick up two million for doing nothing,' Slater said. 'Declan's been out of circulation for ages, and when he worked here, he never had any friends. No-one's going to miss him, and as for some screwed-up engineer who lost her marbles on Bouron, can you see her being an issue?'

'What about Gil?'

'Gil unfortunately has to stay. As far as he's concerned, all we need to do is make sure he's elsewhere when we take out the others.'

Jarvine stared at the screen while he tried to absorb Slater's suggestion.

'Think about it,' Slater said. 'I'll need an answer by the end of tomorrow.'

'I'm not sure.'

'This is only a question of timing; it's nothing that hasn't been done before.'

'Does Gil know about the contract?'

'Gil doesn't know anything. Listen, with that kind of money on the table, we're going to have to act fast and get results. Once Gil's got everyone away from Kalmis, he will start to relax; that'll be the time to make our move.'

A second screen lit up to reveal a plump figure entering the kitchen. Slater watched Gil with grim amusement and wondered how he would react to their scheme. Goodbye Gil, and thanks for nothing. If all went according to plan, he could probably find some menial job for Gil to do where he could work out the days to his retirement, and making Gil's life a permanent misery was something he was eagerly anticipating. Slater got to his feet. 'They'll soon be leaving for Plano; why don't we take a break until they get there?'

Jarvine switched off the screens. 'Good idea.'

'Is this going to be a problem?' Slater asked. 'I want you with me if I do it.'

'I'll let you know. This could backfire in a big way.'

'We're not alone,' Slater said. 'I'm owed some big favours, and I'm calling them in. If we don't accept the job, someone else will, and I'm not happy with the idea of some clown carrying out a hit on our territory. By running the show, we'll be in a position to control the damage and avoid being caught up in someone else's action. It's not often that something this big comes up; if we get it right, we could tie up several loose ends in one operation.' Slater closed the door behind them and tripped the locks. 'I'll see you in a couple of hours.'

Jarvine stood in the corridor and squinted at Slater under its bright lights. 'Are you sure there's nothing in Jenna's story? I mean, they're going to a lot of trouble over her.'

'The only person who believes that crap is Jenna.' Slater laughed. 'Apart from Declan, I suppose, but anyone who has just blown six years of his life on Scion will probably believe anything.'

Declan leaned over the balcony rails and looked up at the high peaks and ridges next to their apartment block. Long tendrils of cloud lingered low in the valley, rolled from the morning mist by a cool wind. Below, parked on the hardstanding, a large cruiser with darkened windows was the only visible sign of a human presence in the resort.

'What do you think of the view?' Gil asked.

'It's so calm,' Declan replied. 'I'd forgotten that places like this existed.'

'If you can afford them, you can find them. Plano is where the idle rich come to discover themselves. The other residents have already left, so make the most of your time because in a couple of weeks the weather is due to turn and you might end up digging yourselves out of the snow. There are a few points I need to cover before I leave. You can go anywhere you want inside the resort, but we can't track you beyond the boundary. The support team has already been over the place, so don't waste your time worrying about security; concentrate on listening to Jenna. We have suppressed all radio transmissions in the area, and the only way you will be able to contact me, including out-of-office calls, is via the communications link. Have you checked your work station?'

Declan nodded. 'I'll use it tonight; I assume it's connected to your headquarters.'

'Everything is being streamed to the main building by secure link, but the team gets first bite of the cherry.' Gil peered over the balcony. 'Moran is taking care of the logs back in the office, and every word Jenna says will be analysed as soon as it reaches us.'

'Have you got anything so far?'

'Not yet, but you're doing fine. What she's coming up with is exactly what I want to hear: the whole story with nothing left out.'

'I'll do my best.' Declan started to shiver in the chill wind. 'Let's go back inside.'

'I'll be paying regular visits, but I won't disturb you unless it's necessary.' Gil followed Declan into the apartment. 'Take time to settle in, and let Jenna unwind as much as possible. Don't let her get upset if she hears the cruiser coming and going.'

'I'd like everything you can get for me on Phasewave.'

'The Phasewave technical department is working on it as we speak,' Gil said. 'By the time you need it, you should have plenty to go on. I've got that drawing stuff for Jenna, so I'd better give it to her before I go.' He paused, then, in a rare display of emotion, added, 'We probably won't have many opportunities to be together from now on, but I want you to know how much I appreciate what you're doing for me.'

Declan was embarrassed. 'If there's anything there, I'm sure l will find it.'

'I know you will.' Gil gave Declan's arm a squeeze and immediately released it when he saw him flinch. 'Sorry, I guess that was the wrong arm.'

'It's the law of probability,' Declan said. 'I have a feeling that I'm going to be relying on it in this case.'

After the sound of the departing cruiser had faded into the distance, Declan stood in his bedroom and once again surveyed the pile of cases before him. He was still trying to decide where to start when he became aware of footsteps outside.

Jenna peered through the open door. 'Mind if I join you?'

Declan was taken by surprise and was uncertain how to react. He had hardly ever been alone with a woman before, and his instinctive reaction was to ask her to leave. Before he could so, however, Jenna walked in and perched unselfconsciously on the edge of his bed.

Declan searched for appropriate words to hide his confusion. 'Of course I don't mind. Have you settled in yet?'

'It wasn't a problem for me; I don't carry the amount of hardware you do. What are you hiding inside those cases?'

Still distracted by Jenna's presence, Declan inspected his cases again. 'Junk mainly. Perhaps I'd better sort them out later.'

'You just carry on,' Jenna said. 'Take no notice of me; I won't get in your way.'

Declan stared at her, still undecided how to respond. 'If you don't mind, go ahead and talk; I'll be listening while I unpack.' He tried to ignore his unease and started to pull items of crushed clothing from a case.

'Those could do with a press.' Jenna pointed to Declan's shirts. 'There's a machine next door. Give them to me; I'll sort them out for you.'

Declan dropped his clothes back into the case. 'Thanks for the offer, but most of this stuff is only fit for burning. There is one thing you can help me with while you're here – so far you haven't mentioned anything about the crew you went out to replace on Bouron.'

'There were four of them: Carrick, Ellen, Rogan, and Sewell.'

'But there were only three of you, weren't there?'

'Economy measures,' Jenna said bitterly. 'Phasewave is so reliable that it never goes wrong, so they say.' She gave a short laugh. 'That's if you listen to the idiots who make it. Did you know that Phasewave was discovered by Scyros Maddoc, the crazy inventor?'

'You mean the one with the media show? Are you seriously telling me that he invented Phasewave?'

'That's the one. You'll be hearing more about our friend Scyros later, but it's hard to believe, isn't it? After he discovered the Phasewave principle, he didn't know what to do with it, so he practically gave away the patent. If he'd only been half-smart, he would have become one of the richest people on Vennica.'

Jenna casually curled up on the bed. She propped her head on one hand and fixed Declan with an unwavering stare. Like an animal about to pounce, Declan thought, losing his concentration. He turned back to his cases, pulled out a uniform and stood, staring blankly around, caught off balance by his inability to comprehend the situation. After spending six years in isolation, a woman half his age had entered his life – a woman who, if Gil was to be believed, was about to be charged with the most serious of crimes and was going to tell a tale so incredible that only he would be able to understand it. What was he doing there?

'Is something the matter?' Jenna asked.

Declan's mind gradually returned to normal. He put down the uniform. 'For a moment I couldn't remember where I was.'

'That's just time-lag. You've travelled a long way.'

Declan tried to focus his mind. He wildly searched for a way to open a conversation and seized upon the first subject to enter his mind: Phasewave, the invention that had profoundly improved the quality of everyone's lives and now looked set to affect his own in a very different manner. 'The last time we finished, you were about to inform Vance of the repairs carried out to the Phasewave unit. What was his opinion of them?'

'He wasn't interested at first and tried to stop us having anything to do with the damaged unit. That led to a big row, after which things changed and Vance had to get involved.'

'In what way did things change?'

'As always, they changed for the worse. It was a trend I was to become familiar with during my stay on Bouron.'

****************

#####  Chapter Six

Vance stared at the modifications to the Phasewave machine. 'What's the meaning of all this? I can't make any sense of it.'

'We can't either,' Brant replied. 'It doesn't appear to be a repair; it looks as if someone has tried to alter the function of the machine.'

'Why would anyone want to do that?' Vance scratched his head. 'I've never heard of a plasma chamber being opened up before, so whoever did this must have known what they were about.'

'It wasn't done too subtly either,' Brant commented. 'Somebody took a big risk cutting through the casing with a thermic lance.'

'What has this to do with the disappearance of the crew?' Jenna interrupted.

They all looked at each other, unable to produce an answer.

Eventually Brant spoke. 'Maybe it does have some bearing on what happened, but in what way ... who knows? The work done on this machine and the trails leading to Tracker South are the only anomalies we've found; they've got to be related.'

'What's that about trails?' Vance asked.

Jenna and Brant exchanged glances, and then Brant related how they had discovered the tracks leading to Tracker South and the state of the worn skimmers.

Vance was even more puzzled. 'Why would anyone get fired up about repairing a tracker station? The base can still function normally with two of them down.'

'Let's repair one of the skimmers and take a look at Tracker South,' Jenna suggested. 'The crew might be inside.'

'Hold on,' Vance said. 'Nobody's going anywhere unless I say so, and that won't happen until I know it's safe. The only thing we're going to do for now is to make a note in the log of everything we've found so far, nothing more, and if the next crew want to investigate it after they arrive, they're welcome.'

'That won't resolve anything,' Brant said. 'The work done on the Phasewave is too sophisticated to have been carried out by anyone at our level. Something inexplicable went on here before the others disappeared, and now we've no option but to search Tracker South. I don't intend to spend the rest of my stay here waiting to find out the hard way how they disappeared.'

'No!' Vance shouted. 'You're not leaving the base. That's my decision, and it's final – I'm the chief!'

'You can't stop us,' Jenna said. 'I'm going to search the tracker.'

Vance grew red in the face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, took two faltering steps towards Jenna and keeled over as his legs gave way beneath him.

Brant leapt forward and managed to catch Vance before he fell. 'Take it slowly,' he said, gently lowering him to the floor. 'Try not to get emotional.' He went through Vance's uniform pockets until he found the inhaler that Vance always carried with him and held it to his mouth.

After a few deep breaths, Vance started to quieten down. He removed the inhaler and propped himself up against the front of the unit, breathing heavily. 'You can't go,' he gasped. 'I'm in charge; you have to do what I tell you.'

'Let's take a vote on it,' Jenna said, 'just like we did when we elected to stay on Bouron. The majority decides – one vote can't swing the decision. Is that right?'

'It sounds fair to me,' Brant said. 'You can't possibly object, Vance. After all, that was your idea.'

'Go to hell,' Vance replied. 'If you set one foot outside this building, you'll no longer be my responsibility. Don't come crying to me when things go wrong.'

'You're too gracious, Vance,' Jenna said with a smile. 'Don't get up. Leave everything to us; we'll sort things out for you.'

'I'll keep working on the skimmers,' Brant said. 'In the meantime, I suggest we keep away from this Phasewave unit until we find out more about it.' He reached down to Vance. 'Here, let me give you a hand.'

The two of them helped Vance to his feet and walked with him back to the crew quarters. Outside his cabin, Vance turned on them accusingly. 'You're going to regret getting involved. Leave well enough alone. Don't open up old wounds.'

'It has to be done,' Brant responded. 'Something is out there, and it needs our attention. I won't be able to rest until we've been inside that tracker.'

'Then do as you damn well please,' Vance nastily replied, and slammed the door shut behind him.

'There's gratitude for you,' Jenna said.

'Take no notice of Vance,' Brant said. 'The sooner I take a look inside Tracker South the better.'

'You're not going anywhere without me.'

'I don't think that's such a good idea; it might not be safe.'

'Don't even think about cutting me out.'

'I hope this isn't going to be the start of another argument,' Brant said. 'I'd like to think you're being realistic about the dangers involved.'

'There's no argument. You fix the skimmer, and I'll take it to the tracker. If it's as dangerous as you think, there's no point in both of us taking a risk.'

'I'm beginning to question your sanity, but I haven't got time to argue. Let's agree on something for a change – I'll fix the skimmer and we'll both visit the tracker, but only if you'll agree that I go inside first.'

'You've got a deal,' Jenna replied.

Two days later, whilst waiting for Brant to complete his search of Tracker South's interior, Jenna walked around its outside walls, feeling the cushioning effect of the dust layer between the soles of her boots and the surface of the hardstanding beneath. She went to the edge of the path and carefully stepped into the unsupported dust, testing its load-bearing capability. Her leg sank in almost to the knee before accepting her weight. Could a person walk on it? She took a few cautious steps through the dust and climbed back onto the path. Travel was not impossible, even though the stiffness of the protective suit required additional exertion, but it was hard work and to reach the tracker station from the base on foot would have been out of the question – the tracker could only have been visited using a skimmer.

Jenna recommenced her walk. From the roof of the tracker, a litter of aerials pointed skyward at the satellites above. She stepped back to get a better view and noticed that one of the aerials was out of line. It looked like it had fallen over, she surmised, but, by coincidence, it now lay horizontal, pointing directly at the base buildings in the distance. She continued her circuit of the tracker station, cursing Phasewave for not being able to communicate with Brant, who was only a few meters away on the other side of the wall, and the reflective windows that prevented her from peering inside. Eventually, Jenna ended up again at the entrance next to the parked skimmer that Brant had managed to fix, almost beside herself with curiosity and wishing that he would emerge to end the suspense.

Finally, the airlock opened, and Brant appeared in the doorway, beckoning her inside. She automatically followed him into the building but could read nothing from the expression on his face.

'The air's safe in here,' Brant said, after removing his helmet.

Jenna snapped open her faceplate. 'What have you found?' she breathlessly asked.

'Not what we feared. There's no trace of anyone in here, but I've got something interesting to show you.'

Jenna felt a surge of relief. She unfastened and removed her helmet, shook her hair down over her shoulders and followed Brant into the control room. The air was stale and the racks of equipment lining the walls were silent and inert.

'What do you make of this?' Brant asked.

Jenna looked at the electronics container next to where Brant was standing and immediately noticed its modified front panel. She walked over and examined the two rails and the wiring harness leading inside the container. 'This is more than a coincidence.'

'I must admit it wasn't what I was expecting to find.'

Jenna looked all over the machine. 'It's exactly the same as the work done on Unit Nine.'

'This whole thing is becoming more and more confusing.' Brant rubbed his chin and stared at the rails. 'What possible reason could you have for changing the function of a tracker?'

'We've now found that two units have been tampered with,' Jenna said. 'How many more are there?'

'All the other units on the complex are working normally, so I presume that the Phasewave and the tracker are the only abnormalities. All we've done so far is produce questions to which there appear to be no answers, and we still have no idea what happened to the other crew.'

Jenna leant against a worktop and checked out the room. There was nothing in it apart from the monitoring equipment.

'I don't accept that these modifications serve any useful purpose,' Brant said, running his hand along the sheath of wires leading into the cabinet. 'You can't change the function of a monitoring device; these alterations look to me to be purely cosmetic.'

'I'm stumped,' Jenna said. 'It isn't as if the units have anything in common. There is one thing, though – while I was outside, I noticed that one of the tracker aerials has become misaligned and is pointing towards the base. Could the tracker have been used to pick up transmissions from a Phasewave unit?'

'The trackers operate outside the Wave and communicate with the base using ultra-low frequencies, so they can't accept phased transmissions. You're the systems expert; if you were prepared to modify an acceleration unit, could you enable the Phasewave to generate an unphased transmission capable of linking with a tracker?'

'It might be possible to modify the plasma chamber to restrict the amount of signal compression, but I can't think of anything that would justify the amount of work involved, and why go to all that trouble? The base is only a couple of kilometres away and still in sight; you could almost shout that far.'

'We're getting absolutely nowhere,' Brant said. 'I think we should forget about what we've found; the crew aren't here, and that's all we came to confirm. Let's go back to the base.'

'We may as well; I've had enough excitement for today.'

Brant smiled. 'I hope not.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Wait and see. I'm going to do something to cheer you up.'

Jenna let out a scream and clung to Brant with all her strength. The skimmer banked sharply and accelerated out of the turn, flinging her sideways in its saddle.

'Stop!' she shouted, but Brant took no notice. A line of rolling dust raced towards them, and in a split second of darkness, the skimmer sliced through its own wake. Jenna glanced back and saw a landscape sectioned by trails of spreading dust where Brant had snaked back and forth over the empty plain. 'You're crazy! Slow down!'

Brant's response was to gun the motor even harder, and the skimmer shuddered in response to the increased torque. Jenna clung closer to Brant and felt a surge of relief as the cares and worries of recent events fell behind her. The base complex loomed suddenly out of the haze and whizzed past in a blur of light. Jenna burst into laughter as Brant threw the skimmer into a wide turn outside the buildings, tearing the soft ground into a spiralling sheet of dust. Whilst holding both arms above his head, he turned the skimmer sharply and accelerated rapidly back towards the base buildings.

'You're going to kill us!' Jenna yelled. She pounded hard on Brant's back, but her gloved fists bounced ineffectually off his protective suit. Then she felt the motor spin into reverse, and the deceleration forced her to tighten her grip on him. As the skimmer slowed, Brant's body continued to rock up and down on the seat, and Jenna knew that he was laughing at her. At that moment in time, she felt more carefree and relaxed than she could ever have imagined. Jenna sat back in the saddle and watched the base lights slowly approach. They had searched everywhere and found no bodies. At last, they could go about their business and pick up the lost threads of normality. Jenna hugged Brant again and thought that she had never felt such sweet happiness in her life.

'You were acting like a couple of kids out there,' Vance said. 'Pass me the water.'

Brant handed a jug across the table. 'It was Jenna's idea. She's a hooligan at heart.'

'There's only one hooligan in here,' Jenna said, joining the others in the canteen. 'That's the hooligan who was driving the skimmer and trying to scare me to death.'

Jenna accepted the plate Brant passed over, the sight and smell of food reminding her of a long-forgotten appetite.

'So, have you got this morbid interest in the fate of our fellow crew members out of your systems?' Vance asked. 'Are you finally satisfied?'

'Yes on both counts.' Brant pulled his chair up to the table. 'Something smells good. Have you laid this on especially for us? What's the celebration?'

'I thought we'd get together for a change,' Vance said. 'Things seem to have sorted themselves out; there's no point in turning our stay into a punishment.'

'I agree,' Jenna said. 'What's this we're eating?'

'It's meat. Don't you like it?'

'Weren't we saving the meat for special occasions?'

'I reckon today qualifies as such. This is the first normal day we've had since we arrived, so I say let's put everything behind us and look forward to the day we go home.'

'I'll drink to that,' Brant said. 'What am I saying? We haven't got anything to drink; I'd better go and fetch some wine.' Brant left the room and reappeared with an armful of bottles and glasses, and then, for the first time ever, the three of them drank a toast to the future and shared an evening together in an atmosphere of friendly optimism.

Later that night, Jenna, heady with wine and at peace with life, went back to her room and collapsed on the bed. After falling asleep, she dreamt that a landing craft had arrived to take them home, and Brant was loading her cases before they left Bouron together, never to return.

****************

A picture formed in Declan's mind. Interlaced ribbons of swirling dust broke the flat monotony of the scene, and a distant, domed building straddled a rise on the horizon. Declan looked at Jenna. Was she describing events that had actually occurred, or had her mind distorted to the point where she could no longer separate reality from illusion? It was too soon to tell. 'Did you have any idea what the modifications to the units were intended to achieve?' he asked.

'No. We talked it to death but couldn't come up with an explanation; all we knew was that whoever was responsible for carrying out the work meant it to be more than a repair. They had tried to alter the functions of both the Phasewave and the tracker. For some unknown reason, they had tried to put the machines to other uses.'

The stiffness had returned to Declan's joints. 'I could use some exercise. Would you mind if we went for a walk?'

'All that talk about food has made me hungry,' Jenna said. 'On the way here, I saw what looked like a clubhouse. Let's do lunch.'

'Consider it my treat. It's been over six years since I last ate out on Vennica.'

Apartments clung to sheer rock faces on either side of the track that Declan and Jenna walked along, each one individually constructed from natural materials to blend with its surroundings. High above, a flying animal circled the air currents, a small square of blackness blinking rhythmically against the white of the sky. It was cool out of the sun on the valley floor, and Declan regretted not wearing a warmer jacket.

'Will they still be listening to us?' Jenna asked.

'Yes, there will be monitoring devices all over the place. They're practically invisible; the more sophisticated ones actually track you as you move.'

Jenna closely studied a nearby clump of artificial vegetation but did not find anything. She caught up with Declan and noticed that he was limping. 'Are you hurting?' she asked.

'I'm improving, but it's taking a while to become accustomed to the gravity here.'

'What happened to you, anyway? You never tell me anything about yourself.'

'I haven't had chance,' Declan said. 'Forgive my manners, but I'm not used to company. The answer to your question is that I was caught in a fire when I was on Scion, and the burns are still healing.' Declan momentarily relived the instant when the bulkhead had burst apart before his eyes and released a ball of liquid fire into the tunnel where he was standing.

'Do you sleep well?'

'Not often,' Declan said. 'Why do you ask?'

'I heard you call out in the night.'

'I dream. Every night I dream.'

'Are your dreams about the fire?'

'Thankfully, that's something I never dream about.'

'Is there a special dream?'

'Not really. I see pictures in my dreams, but they are very realistic.'

Jenna slid a small stone off the path with her foot. 'Do you actually wake up during the dream?'

'Not necessarily during a dream, but I always wake up halfway through the night. It is very inconvenient. What do you dream about?'

'Most of them are crazy, mixed-up dreams about my time on Bouron. Apart from keeping me awake at night, they are completely pointless.'

'Can you describe one for me?'

'There's no recurrent theme, and I can't remember much about them afterwards. Sometimes I dream about the alien.'

Declan came to an abrupt halt. 'Did you say alien?'

Jenna paused, then looked ahead and carried on walking.

Declan's heart started to pound, and his brain went into overdrive. He ran after Jenna. 'You must tell me.'

'No, that comes later.'

That was why Gil had been interested in his activities on Scion! Declan fought back the tremendous excitement that welled up inside him. An alien! He had to find out. Jenna was holding something back. Why wasn't she ready? Declan dared not risk a confrontation when Jenna was being so cooperative, so he quickly changed the subject and pointed to one of the few freestanding buildings in the resort. 'Do you think that is the restaurant?'

'I don't know, but I'm getting very hungry,' Jenna said. 'Let's give it a try.'

Welcoming lights shone through old-fashioned glass windows. Declan held open the entrance door for Jenna and followed her inside the restaurant, still wondering why she had backed off so suddenly after mentioning the alien.

'We'll be lucky to get a seat in here,' Jenna said, surveying the empty room. At the sound of her voice, the lights dimmed, and the room instantly became alive with the noise of conversation and subdued music.

Declan looked at the deserted booths and could not help smiling. 'I wish they wouldn't do that. What's wrong with silence?'

'That remark shows your age,' Jenna teased. 'Unwanted noise is what they charge extra for nowadays. Let's find a seat with a view.'

Declan crossed the room and selected a booth next to a window. 'The place probably hasn't been used for weeks,' he said, sliding onto a plush seat opposite Jenna. 'I've just realised that I haven't had chance to arrange any credit since I arrived on Vennica. How do you pay for things in here?'

'I don't believe this.' Jenna tapped her credit details onto the order screen. 'First you offer me lunch, and then I find I'm paying for it. Fortunately, I've got half a year's wages in my account.' Jenna read from the screen in surprise. 'It won't accept payment; it says any meals we take have already been charged. Gil's thought of everything.'

'He told me that the other guests had already left, so it looks like we will have this place to ourselves.' Declan picked up a menu and started to read it, but it was so long since he had eaten out that he was unfamiliar with most of the dishes on offer.

Jenna turned to the menu. 'Seeing as Gil's picking up the tab, we can have anything we want. I'm going to treat myself to some real meat.'

Declan closed his menu. 'It's tempting, but I think I'll stick to what I know and have the reconstituted stuff.'

They both entered their orders onto the screen and sat back in the comfortable seats.

'I take it that everything settled down after you had seen inside the tracker,' Declan said.

'Yes. Nothing very much happened. Things almost got boring. Until I met Ellen, that is.'

'You mean Ellen from the original crew? She was alive?' Declan sat up in his seat. 'Where was she?'

'This is the hard part. Ellen appeared on a monitor screen inside the damaged Phasewave unit and told me she was speaking from Vennica.'

'If no ships had passed through the satellite belt, how did she travel to Vennica?'

'It's going to be hard for me to explain what happened next and even harder for you to understand. There were lots of things I wasn't aware of when I first met Ellen and Carrick.'

Declan watched Jenna carefully, trying to decide if she was being serious or not. So far, her story had been a straightforward account of events, but he was now beginning to appreciate why the first investigators had not believed her.

'You'll have to decide for yourself,' Jenna said. 'It was a game-changer when Ellen appeared on the scene.'

A bell chimed softly, and the serving dispenser in the centre of the table popped open. Jenna lifted out the meals and removed the covers. 'This looks good. Why don't we give Bouron and all that a rest? I'll tell you about Ellen after we've eaten.'

Declan looked down at his plate but could see only a modified Phasewave unit and a woman's face on a monitor screen.

'You'd better feed that imagination of yours.' Jenna handed Declan a knife. 'You're going to need all you've got if you want to wrap your head round what I'm going to tell you next.'

Declan and Jenna later emerged from the restaurant and took a track leading into the mountains. Absorbed in their own thoughts, they walked in silence and soon found themselves surrounded again by jagged rocks.

'Did you enjoy that?' Jenna asked.

'What? You mean did I enjoy the meal? Yes, I liked it very much.' Declan thought back, but his preoccupation had been so intense that he could not remember what he had actually eaten. Eventually, he could contain his curiosity no longer. 'If Ellen hadn't left Bouron by ship, where had she been hiding?'

Jenna looked up at the sky. The warmth had faded from the air and a layer of high cloud tinted the light with a pink hue. 'I guess you're ready for this, but promise me that you'll hear me out before passing judgment.'

****************

#####  Chapter Seven

Jenna was contented with life and relieved that a major problem had been resolved, and she hummed a little tune as she approached Unit Nine carrying a camera to record the alterations made to the machine. The heavy door swung open, and once again, she stepped into the inert silence of the Phasewave. Everything inside the machine was exactly as she had left it. She stood before the modified console and again asked herself who had carried out the work and what it had achieved.

A nearby monitor flashed into life, and Jenna was surprised to see the figure of a woman appear on its screen, mouthing silent words to the room whilst gesturing with her hands.

The panel is supposed to be dead, Jenna thought. How is the monitor getting its power? It looked like breakthrough from a media transmission, but why was it coming through the monitor? Jenna laid her camera on the floor and cautiously approached the screen. The woman's face looked familiar, and Jenna felt certain that she had seen her somewhere before. The figure on the screen began to wave frantically, but no sound came from the speakers. Out of curiosity, Jenna turned up the volume control and heard a female voice echo inside the room.

'It's me, Ellen. Can you hear me?'

Jenna instinctively glanced behind her.

'Yes, Jenna, I'm talking to you.'

'You mean me?' Jenna stupidly asked, and immediately understood why the face looked familiar – she was the woman standing next to Carrick on the hologram.

'Of course I do!' Ellen laughed. 'Don't be alarmed. You must be wondering what happened to us.'

'I ... we ... yes, we did wonder,' Jenna stammered, overlooking the host of problems that had been created by the crew's unexplained absence.

'Well, your troubles are over,' Ellen said. 'We're all safe on Vennica, which is where I'm speaking from at this very moment.'

'How did you get to Vennica?'

'You need to take this in slowly.' Ellen's voice sounded deep and husky, like a man's voice. 'Very soon I'm going to tell you things you won't understand, things which are going to change your life forever, but first I'd like you to meet Carrick.' The picture on the screen expanded to include Carrick's dark and brooding features.

'Hi, Jenna.' Carrick leaned closer to the camera. 'Listen carefully to what Ellen has to say, and you'd better be nice to her because she's going to make you rich and famous.'

Jenna stood rooted to the spot in amazement and listened while Ellen, assisted at times by Carrick, explained that they and the other crewmembers had learnt how to travel through space by Phasewave transmission. Now they were staying on Vennica in a laboratory belonging to a scientist called Scyros Maddoc, the inventor of Phasewave.

'I don't understand,' Jenna interrupted. 'You couldn't have left the planet unless you were picked up by a ship, but there were no ships in the vicinity of Bouron when you disappeared.'

Carrick and Ellen both laughed. 'We know how hard this is for you to accept,' Carrick said. 'We had the same problem ourselves. There was no ship. Look at the Phasewave machine in front of you. We did those modifications in order to enter the Phasewave and travel to Vennica over the Intranet.'

'That's impossible,' Jenna said.

'Right now we don't want to go any deeper into what we achieved,' Ellen said. 'First we want you to tell Vance and Brant what you've just heard, and then we'd like to speak to you all together. Will you do that for me?'

Jenna nodded meekly, walked backwards to the door, and then ran from the room to find Brant.

'Come over here and sit down.' Brant guided Jenna to a table and took a seat opposite her. 'Did you actually speak to Ellen and Carrick?'

'I keep telling you that I saw them on the screen, and I spoke to them. Why won't you listen to me?'

'They can't still be hiding on the base after all this time. Are you sure it was them?'

'Yes, and they want to talk to all of us. You and Vance must come with me.'

Brant studied Jenna closely. What Jenna was saying sounded too incredible to be true. Since their arrival on Bouron, however, many things remained unresolved, and he was determined to remain open-minded.

'Okay, I'll come with you,' he said, 'but I don't want Vance to know about this until I've confirmed it. You saw how he reacted last time he got angry; if that happens again, the shock might finish him off. Let's keep this to ourselves until we know for sure what's going on. After all, it does sound suspiciously like a hoax.'

'But how could they do that? How did they travel to Vennica?'

'I don't buy into the concept of human beings jumping into a Phasewave transceiver to hitch a lift to another planet: that's just plain ridiculous. Explain something to me. You say Ellen and Carrick knew both of us by name, although we've never met them, and that they referred to there being only the three of us. Even we didn't know until the last moment that Erwin had dropped out, yet somehow they had found out that he wasn't here. Since the last supply ship visited, the crew had been in total isolation, expecting another four engineers to replace them at the end of their contracts, yet they appear to know all about us. The only way they could have obtained that information was by observing us after we landed.'

'Unless they actually went to Vennica and obtained our details from the Company.'

'I'm not considering that possibility,' Brant said. 'If they are watching us, where are they? More importantly, why would they want to do that? I'd like to hear their explanation; let's go and talk.'

Brant stood in front of the monitor and tried to take in what Ellen and Carrick were saying. In his opinion, most of their story sounded highly improbable, and he remained guarded in his reaction.

'One night there was a bad electrical storm, a really violent one,' Carrick explained. 'Afterwards, we found that Unit Nine had been struck by lightning and suffered serious internal damage. A few weeks later, I was inspecting the unit, standing exactly where you are now, when Scyros Maddoc appeared on this screen and started talking to me.'

'Bouron is a relay station, not a peripheral site,' Brant pointed out. 'How did he establish two-way contact with you?'

'Unit Nine was knocked out of the network by the explosion,' Carrick replied. 'After it became separated from the Wave, Scyros was able to phase it to his own transceiver.'

'Where was Scyros Maddoc at that time?' Jenna asked.

'Here on Vennica with us.' Ellen extended her arms. 'He contacted us from this very laboratory and told us that he had learnt to transmit himself through space by linking into the Intranet.'

'What proof did he offer?'

Ellen looked earnestly into the camera. 'Jenna, you have to remember that Scyros invented Phasewave. Until Scyros explained how we could modify Unit Nine to accept a human form, we didn't believe him either.'

'I find it impossible to accept that concept,' Brant said. 'People don't go planet-hopping by Phasewave. The work on this machine is too complex for you to have completed, so who did it?'

'I understand your disbelief, but I can vouch that we did it all ourselves,' Carrick cut in. 'Scyros sent us plans of what he wanted doing and showed us how to make the necessary modifications. We adapted Tracker South to link with the Phasewave, and when everything was ready, we all went, one by one, into that machine in front of you and split seconds later were standing inside the tracker. I can't begin to tell you what it felt like. After working on Phasewave for years, we thought we knew a thing or two about it and were every bit as disbelieving as you are, but after that first journey, we were game for anything. The next logical step was for us to transmit ourselves to Vennica to join Scyros.'

'What about Rogan and Sewell?' Jenna asked. 'Where are they?'

'Right now they are with Scyros putting together a deal with the Company,' Ellen said. 'This is incredible stuff. Think about it – the ability to travel anywhere in the universe, instantly, and the owners of Phasewave have complete control of the monopoly. In a few years' time, all other forms of transport will have been replaced by Phasewave; there's going to be a colossal change in the way we live.'

'Ellen's right,' Carrick said. 'The potential profits are beyond estimation, and the Company's spending money like there's no tomorrow.'

Brant was still not convinced. All his instincts told him that something was wrong with their story. 'Why are we talking over the Intranet like this?' he said. 'Why don't you come back to Bouron?'

'Unit Nine was badly damaged by the lightning strike,' Carrick replied. 'We managed to salvage enough parts from it to build a transmitter but couldn't adapt it to receive. That's why we turned Tracker South into a short-range receiver, and with the two units modified, we were able to prove both ends of the system before committing to it.'

'You can try it for yourselves,' Ellen said, 'but I'll come back to that later. This is history in the making, and we're offering you an opportunity to take part in it. If the legal people hadn't gagged us, we would have contacted you sooner, but they've now agreed to let us talk to you and tell you what has happened. You must have been very concerned when you arrived on Bouron and couldn't find anyone, so, to show how sorry we are, we want you to share with us the fame and honour of being among the first people ever to travel through space using the Phasewave Intranet.'

'All our lives are about to change,' Carrick added. 'These Phasewave transceivers are capable of doing things you haven't dreamt of, and you are working for the Company that makes them. This is the most exciting discovery humankind has ever made; you are in at the start of something sensational. Join our team and share the rewards. Talk to the others when they get back. You also need to talk to Scyros because I know he will overcome your objections. The man must be a genius to have invented Phasewave, and now you are going to experience its incredible powers first-hand.'

Jenna turned to Brant excitedly. 'This is fantastic! What do you think?'

'I don't know.' Brant turned back to the screen. 'I'm going to see Vance now. I suggest we talk again.'

'We don't want to rush you,' Carrick said, 'but the story is about to break, and the media will soon be all over it. If you do decide to join us, don't leave it too long. Let's get together soon.'

The screen faded and became lifeless. Brant pressed his palms against his forehead. 'This is something else. According to them, that crew managed to construct the most incredible machine ever invented, yet there wasn't a systems specialist among them. How could a service engineer manufacture something that the top scientists on Vennica haven't yet thought of? That's not right.'

'Maybe they were shown how to do so by Scyros Maddoc,' Jenna suggested.

'The very thought of learning over the Intranet how to open up a plasma chamber with a thermic lance defies the imagination, and how could they have found out that we had discovered the work done to Tracker South unless they had been watching us?'

'Well, somebody obviously modified the machines, and the crew wouldn't be talking to us through the Intranet unless something very unusual had happened,' Jenna said. 'They've been gone for over three months, which effectively rules out being anywhere on Bouron, so if they aren't here, where are they?'

'That's what I intend to find out,' Brant said. 'In the meantime, I'll brief Vance and see if he can come up with any ideas.'

Brant accompanied Jenna to their quarters, where he spent some time alone inside his cabin, reliving the recent conversation with Ellen and Carrick and becoming more and more convinced that every part of the story he had just heard was false. After mulling over what he had witnessed, he decided to revisit the Phasewave and carry out a more thorough inspection of the machine before involving Vance. A few minutes later, he quietly left his cabin and returned to Unit Nine to confront the Phasewave again. Once inside the unit, he squatted on the floor by the machine, removed one of the buckled panels from its rear section, and carefully examined the modified wiring. There was something peculiar about it. Although seemingly complex, the modifications did not appear to serve any useful purpose – unless he was overlooking something important.

Brant was still probing inside the unit when the monitor screen lit up and Ellen and Carrick reappeared.

'Where are the others?' Ellen asked.

Brant got to his feet and faced the screen. 'They're not here.'

'Don't they want to join in the fun?'

Brant stared impassively at the two faces on the screen. 'This isn't my idea of fun. I don't know what you two are up to, but I think you're talking pure shit.' He bent down and started to remove the remaining panels from the rear of the unit. 'This has gone far enough,' he said to the screen. 'Your game is over, and I'm going to fix this machine to make sure no harm comes to any of us. I'm sorry if I've spoiled your "fun".'

The faces on the screen looked grimly at each other and slowly faded from sight.

Brant laughed out aloud. 'I was right – you're nothing but a box of tricks.' He removed the last panel and found yet another set of rearranged terminals and relays, this time leading down directly into the sub-drive. Brant had never before come across anything like it. He lay on the floor and followed the control paths back from the sub-drive to the improvised bus bars, trying to work out the isolation logic. 'Some box of tricks,' he commented to himself.

The atmosphere inside the room suddenly changed. Brant jumped to his feet. What was different? There was a moment of intense silence, then the hair rose from Brant's scalp, and he immediately knew what was going to happen next. He frantically tried to hurl himself clear of the machine, but before he could escape, a massive bolt of electricity struck him in the chest and exploded his world in a searing flash of blue light. For the briefest part of time, Brant tasted the bitter tang of ozone, but the sensation died with him before his shattered body reached the floor.

****************

Jenna stood motionless, with her head bowed. Declan uncomfortably held her in his arms and felt the bones of her back through the thin material of her coat. He held her clumsily, not knowing how to react, until she pulled away from him.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

Jenna looked sad, but her eyes remained dry. 'It's okay; I have to get this out of my system.' She set off again along the path but kept her head down and continued to speak in a quiet voice. 'While all that was taking place, I was looking for Brant but couldn't find him. I figured that he would eventually turn up at Unit Nine, so I told Vance that Brant wanted to see both of us at the Phasewave to show us something he'd found. That's what we were doing when we discovered Brant's body.'

****************

Jenna followed Vance into the Phasewave and immediately detected a pungent, burning smell in the air; it was unpleasant and unlike any odour that she had previously experienced. Then events blurred into a disjointed sequence of slow-motion snapshots as her mind attempted to blot out the sight before her. First, Vance, white with shock, turning and seizing her arm to prevent her going further. Then, while she was instinctively backing away from him, looking down into Brant's sightless eyes, followed by the unforgettable sight of Brant's blackened and contorted body. The two of them standing over the body, not knowing what to do. Watching in dumb shock while Vance isolated the machine. Vance talking earnestly while she could only stare back, incapable of understanding what he was saying. Afterwards, resisting Vance's attempts to force her from the room, unwilling to leave but not wanting to stay.

Inside Vance's cabin, Vance handing her a glass of something she could not taste, yet noticing that his hands were shaking and thinking that at last she had discovered something they had in common.

Vance talking again, insistently. 'Do you know what Brant was doing in the Phasewave?'

Vance's words echoed inside Jenna's head, and tears unexpectedly arrived, torturing Jenna further with racking heaves of her body until her chest ached and her throat seized. She started to choke, but Vance held her tightly until she subsided in his arms, limp with exhaustion. Later, she found herself lying on Vance's bed, trapped in a nightmare and unable to wake up, until she finally relaxed into a state of dull fatigue that seemed to last forever but only held her until dawn.

'What is it?' Jenna sat up in a daze.

Vance handed her a glass. 'Drink this.'

Jenna automatically took the cup. She held it in her hand and tried to work out what she was doing in Vance's cabin. Bits of the nightmare returned. She quickly glanced at Vance, but the grave expression on his face confirmed her worst fears.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

'It's true then,' Jenna whispered. 'Brant ... he's gone?'

A grey pallor had drained the colour from Vance's face. He slowly nodded. 'If it helps, he can't have known anything about it.'

Jenna felt the tears about to return and fought them back. 'What about his ... his ...?'

'Don't worry. I've taken care of him.'

Jenna knew what he meant: the body bag, the chemicals, and the slow reduction of human remains into liquid. There was no choice: it was standard procedure.

'It's my fault,' she sighed. 'I should never have listened to them.'

'Who did you listen to?' Vance asked.

'It was Carrick and Ellen. They spoke to me through the Phasewave monitor.'

'You found them? Where are they?'

'They're on Vennica; they travelled there through Phasewave.'

Vance saw tiny points of light reflected in the dilated pupils of Jenna's eyes. 'Try to rest,' he said. 'You've been through a bad time. We'll talk about it later.'

'No, we've got to meet them; they're expecting us.' Jenna saw Vance's expression of disbelief. 'I'm telling the truth. Brant came with me and spoke to them as well, but he didn't believe them and must have returned to the machine.'

Vance stared at her blankly. Was she insane?

Jenna climbed from the bed. 'Come with me and see for yourself.'

'It can wait until later,' Vance said. 'First you need to get some rest.'

'They'll be wondering where we are. You have to meet Carrick and Ellen. Talk to them and let them convince you.'

After spending most of the night attending to Brant's body, Vance was too exhausted to be able to keep up with Jenna's incoherent ramblings. 'Can't we leave it until later?'

'No!' Jenna said emphatically. 'It has to be now.'

Vance took one look at the set of Jenna's determined face and knew he would get no rest until he had complied with her demands. 'Very well,' he said resignedly, 'let's go and see what you think you have found.'

The smell of burning had faded by the time Jenna returned to the Phasewave, and the deserted room displayed no traces of what had occurred the previous day.

Jenna moved towards the monitor, but Vance prevented her from touching it. 'Keep back,' he warned, 'this thing may still be live.' He cautiously approached the machine and rechecked the circuits. 'The overprotection relays have tripped; that could only have been caused by a current surge.'

Jenna felt light-headed. The whole thing was unreal – was Brant no longer with them? 'Where did the current come from if the machine was inoperative?' she asked

'Only the sub-drives could source that kind of power.' Vance carefully restored the domestic circuits, checking for irregularities, and shortly after he had reconnected the last supply, a nearby monitor lit up. Vance found himself looking at the faces of Ellen and Carrick and took a step backwards in surprise.

'Hi, Vance,' Carrick said. 'It's nice to see you again. We've been trying to get through to you all day.'

Vance stood with his mouth open, speechless.

'There was a terrible accident,' Jenna burst out. 'Brant was electrocuted.'

Ellen looked visibly shaken. 'You mean he's ...?'

Jenna nodded. 'It looks like there was a fault on the sub-drive; Brant must have accidentally made contact with it.'

'Oh, we're so sorry,' Ellen said. 'Look, I understand that this is a bad time, but we need to talk to you urgently. You must have a lot of things to attend to, so why don't we get together at mid-day?'

'Accept our condolences,' Carrick added. 'I don't like to bring it up at a time like this, but we've got something really important to discuss. I'd sure appreciate it if you could make the mid-day meeting.'

'No problem,' Vance said. 'We'll be here.'

Vance watched the faces fade from the screen and slowly massaged his jowls. 'Well, what d'you make of that?' he said.

'I don't know,' Jenna said. 'They claim to be talking from Vennica, but Brant wasn't convinced.'

'It sounds far-fetched, but they're obviously talking to us from somewhere. On the other hand, we shouldn't be too surprised; since our arrival, nothing has been exactly straightforward.'

Jenna walked around the back of the machine. 'This is different. There were panels in place here last time we were in the unit.'

Vance joined her, then got down on his knees and carefully peered inside the casing. He swore to himself. 'Unless I'm mistaken, this leads straight to the sub-drive.' He pulled aside the heavy wiring harness and looked down into the sub-drive unit. 'The drive casing has been tampered with; this is where the current came from. To avoid being serious injured, whoever carried out these alterations must have known exactly what they were doing, but I still don't understand what's behind it all.'

'Ellen claimed that they had altered the function of the machine and actually travelled to Vennica through the Phasewave. She said that Scyros Maddoc told them how to do the modifications.'

Vance was even more puzzled. 'Did you believe them?'

'If you don't accept what they're saying, how do you explain the modifications to the machine and the fact that they are talking to us through that screen? Where else can they be if they aren't on Vennica?'

'I can't accept this at all. You can't just jump into a Phasewave and get off at Vennica.'

'It sounds incredible, but it must be true,' Jenna said. She looked over the modifications again and racked her brains, trying to piece the puzzle together, but the more she tried the more confusing it became. Then the lack of sleep caught up with her, and she suddenly felt the energy drain from her body. 'I desperately need to take a shower. Let's meet up again later, and you can then ask Carrick to explain what happened.'

'I'm too old to believe in this kind of thing.' Vance looked down at the open panels. 'Okay, we'll give them a shot, but I don't think there's any way I can be convinced that this machine is capable of doing what they claim. Get some sleep, and I'll wake you at mid-day. Will you be all right on your own?'

Jenna nodded vacantly and made her way back to her cabin, already half-asleep. After standing under a jet of hot water for a few minutes, she wandered into her bedroom and started picking things up and putting them down again while trying to remember what she was looking for. Finally, she fell onto the bed and was asleep by the time her head touched the pillow.

****************

#####  Chapter Eight

The sun hovered low in the sky, and the wind had developed a sharp edge. Declan studied the two long shadows that accompanied them by the side of the path. The smaller of the two walked with bowed head, and the taller shadow followed with a familiar stoop.

'Let's return to Brant for a moment,' Declan said. 'You told me he was electrocuted by the Phasewave, even though the unit was inoperative. Could the surge possibly have been one of those stray currents which ran beneath the base?'

'No, it was a powerful current that killed Brant, and that kind of current could only have been supplied by the sub-drive. The sub-drives always remain active.'

'I'm not sure what you mean.'

'The sub-drives are the essential part of the Phasewave system. They link the Phasewave units together to enable the machines to synchronise the Phase, which is why the sub-drives need to remain active at all times. They also have another important function: when the sub-drives on Bouron link phases, they synchronise all transmissions throughout the Phasewave network by generating and transmitting the Wave. Data received by the Phasewaves contains code telling the Phasewave how far it has to travel to reach its destination. Following compression in the acceleration unit, the data enters the sub-drive, which eliminates the time lag in the transmission by positioning it on a particular point of the Wave. That's the general theory of phased transmissions, but you can imagine the amount of energy the sub-drives take to achieve such a task. In fact, the sub-drives absorb over half the generators' total output. They are also invulnerable, and the drives form part of a continuous chain that never fails, even if a Phasewave malfunctions. Unit Nine may have burnt out, but its sub-drive still remained active.'

Declan tried to assimilate what Jenna was telling him, but could not relate the technical capabilities of the machines to the transfer of humans through space. 'Are you telling me that four people somehow entered the Phasewave machine and stepped out on Vennica? Did that actually took place?'

'Yes and no. They say that to see is to believe, Declan, and I can only tell you what I saw with my own eyes.' She looked into the sunset, lost in thought. 'It's funny, but I was the first to be convinced that Ellen and Carrick were telling the truth. Then, when Vance went for it, I was the one with misgivings who wanted to stop him.'

****************

'What's holding you back?' Carrick asked. 'We did it, and it worked for us. Why won't you believe me?'

'I'm trying to be rational,' Vance replied. 'Show me the proof, and I'll believe you.'

'We are the proof,' Carrick said. 'Where do you think we are right now?'

'Demonstrating the proof is not a problem,' Ellen interrupted. 'All you have to do is take the journey to Tracker South.'

'What exactly is involved?'

'Just take hold of those two rails, and hang on tight,' Carrick said. 'It's no pain at all.'

Vance looked down at the console. 'How can I work this thing if I'm holding onto the rails?'

'There's a sequence selector on the console next to you, but you need someone to key in the right code,' Ellen explained. 'On this occasion, however, you don't need to bother with the selector; we can take care of it from this end. Scyros did it that way the first time we went to the tracker, and it worked just fine. I can guarantee there's no danger.'

'I don't know.' Vance turned to Jenna, his doubts still unresolved. 'What state's the tracker in?'

'It's good, and the atmosphere's okay.'

Vance nodded thoughtfully. 'What about the skimmer? Can you bring a suit out to me for the return journey?'

'No problem,' Jenna said, although a tiny voice inside her head was telling her that what she was hearing and saying did not make sense.

'So there's nothing to stop you,' Ellen insisted. 'Once you've taken that first journey, you'll find it a natural step to transfer to Vennica and join us.'

'Are you telling me that all I have to do is hold onto these rails?' Vance asked in a nervous voice. 'This is ridiculous. It can't be that simple.'

Carrick sounded more urgent when he spoke. 'If you don't think we're telling the truth, tell me why we're talking to you through the monitor like this.'

Vance put his hands up. 'I'm going to have to come clean with you. I'm not in good shape, and I shouldn't even be here with a heart problem like mine. The strain of going through that process will almost certainly kill me.'

Ellen and Carrick immediately burst out laughing.

'Boy, have I got some good news for you,' Carrick said. 'That's exactly where you've got it wrong. Once the Phasewave has processed you, illness becomes completely outdated because the procedure actually rejuvenates the body. At the receiving end, the Phasewave uses your body's original DNA to replicate it, so by the time you pitch up inside the tracker, your heart will be firing on all four again. You'll be like new.'

'You don't have to take Carrick's word for it; look at my arm.' Ellen rolled up one of her uniform sleeves to reveal a perfectly normal left arm. 'Two years ago, I was in a bad accident, and this arm was almost severed. For over a year, I waited for surgery to repair the scars, yet after one trip through Phasewave, there's no scarring left at all. It's hard to believe but everything physically wrong with you simply disappears.'

'I still don't know.' Vance felt himself start to waver. Ellen and Carrick had hit him in the area where he was most vulnerable, and the possibility of being healthy again was almost impossible to resist. A new heart was within his grasp, and he wouldn't have to pay for it! He was actually going to save money by travelling through the machine! It was as if all his birthdays had come at once.

'All you have to do is take one step forward and grasp those rails,' Ellen said. 'The rest will be history.'

As she watched and listened to the figures on the screen, Jenna became more convinced than ever that something was amiss. What was it? What could possibly be wrong?

Vance looked at Jenna. 'Tell me, Jenna. Tell me what I should do.'

'I don't know,' Jenna replied. The bad feeling grew stronger. Was that a gloating expression on Carrick's face, or did he always look like that when he smiled? Something definitely felt wrong, something she could not explain. Why was she scared of the unknown? However, the others had obviously come to no harm, so it should be safe.

Vance was still watching her expectantly, waiting for encouragement. Jenna swallowed hard. Was Vance really going to go inside the machine that was responsible for Brant's death?

Vance was grinning from ear to ear. 'What do you say Jenna, shall I give it a go?'

'I guess there's no harm in trying,' Jenna said.

'You'll pick me up, won't you?'

'Call in on the land-line when you reach the tracker. I'll wait to hear from you before leaving.'

'If you don't believe my arm was damaged, check my medical records,' Ellen encouraged. 'It's all documented.'

'You won't regret doing this,' Carrick said with a sly smile. 'Afterwards you're going to feel like a young man again. Get the picture?'

'By God, I'm going to do it!' Vance shouted, flushed with excitement.

Carrick gave Vance a conspiratorial wink. 'I don't think Ellen's got any complaints in that department.'

Ellen's face lit up. 'Not anymore,' she said jokingly. 'In fact it's quite the opposite.'

'You're convincing me,' Vance said. 'I'm mighty tempted to give this a whirl.'

A pang of nervousness shot through Jenna's insides. The moment had finally arrived, and she still had no idea why she was getting such bad vibrations.

'You're going to thank me for this,' Carrick said. 'Very soon we're going to make a public announcement, and you're going to be standing right next to us when we do. Now, step forward and hold the rails tightly.'

'I don't believe I'm doing this,' Vance said. 'Look after the show while I'm away, Jenna.'

Jenna stood back and watched Vance take his place in front of the machine. For what seemed an eternity, nothing changed. She saw Vance's knuckles whiten as he tightened his grip. Still nothing happened. Jenna started to relax. It could not be true: a person could not dematerialize and reform. The whole thing was an utterly insane idea.

Vance's arms were quivering with the effort of holding onto the rails. 'What's gone wrong, Jenna? Why isn't it working?'

Jenna started to reply, but she was interrupted by a low, humming sound that came from the machine. Then, without further delay, Vance disappeared from sight. Jenna's heart missed a beat. She slowly closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, Vance was still gone. Only a vacant space marked the spot where she had last set eyes on him. Jenna's mind went blank with astonishment. She numbly approached the machine and stood where Vance had last stood, and then went back to the monitor, only to find an inert screen. Carrick and Ellen were nowhere in sight. She stared around the deserted room in amazement. Had she just seen a body disappear into thin air, or was it a trick? Was Vance hiding somewhere inside the room, or had he actually made the journey to the tracker? She found herself searching behind the units for him, then stopped and flung her hands into the air in bewilderment. She was going mad.

****************

Declan and Jenna stood at the edge of the resort and looked down at the wide expanse of open countryside that flowed from the foothills of the mountain range where they stood.

'How far away from Vance were you standing when you saw him dematerialize?' Declan asked.

'I was as close as I am to you; I could almost have touched him. It was no trick – he disappeared all right.'

The story was incredible, almost too incredible to begin to understand. Declan's mind whirled in circles. Was this the real thing? Had Jenna actually seen a human being dematerialize? Where did the alien fit into the scheme of things?

Declan surveyed the deserted surroundings. 'So, did Vance turn up inside the tracker?'

'No way,' Jenna said. 'That stuff about trying out the system was a pack of lies. All that happened was that I swapped Vance for Carrick.'

'You did what?'

'I did exactly that. Vance went into the machine and Carrick came out.'

'If the Phasewave had been modified to only transmit, how did Carrick get there?'

'Ellen and Carrick were a lot closer than Vennica,' Jenna said. 'You look puzzled, Declan, and I feel for you. I actually saw these things with my own eyes, and even I find them hard to accept. Let me explain how Carrick arrived on the scene.'

****************

Jenna stood alone in the Phasewave, stunned by what she had just witnessed. Then another humming noise broke the silence, and she turned to see a human shape begin to materialize in front of the Phasewave console.

'Vance!' she cried, and ran forward, only to come to an abrupt halt as the ethereal shape solidified into the physical form of Carrick.

Carrick immediately started to pace the room while Jenna, in shock, stood and stared at him. There was a wild, almost demented look in his eyes, and he kept frantically brushing the hair from his face as if he could feel something clinging to his skin.

'Thank God!' he cried. 'Thank you! Oh, thank you God!'

'What's going on?' Jenna said. 'Where's Vance?'

Carrick turned and appeared to notice Jenna for the first time. He took three quick paces towards her and roughly seized her by the arm.

'What are you doing?' Jenna cried, frantically trying to back away. 'Let go of me.'

'Now it's your turn,' Carrick said. 'Get inside the machine.'

Jenna managed to jerk her arm free from Carrick's grasp. 'Why? I don't understand. How did you get here? You said the machine couldn't receive.'

'Don't argue with me!' Carrick's face turned harsh and ugly. 'Just do as you're told. Get inside!'

Jenna stepped backwards. 'Keep away from me! I want to see Vance!'

Carrick grabbed hold of Jenna again and started to pull her towards the machine while she desperately resisted, twisting and pulling away from him until he lost his temper.

'Stay still you little fool,' he hissed through clenched teeth and raised his hand to strike her. Jenna cowered down and heard a woman's voice call out. Carrick immediately lowered his arm, and Jenna caught sight of Ellen's face watching them from the monitor.

'Don't harm her, you clumsy oaf!' Ellen shouted.

Carrick's response was to lift Jenna off her feet and carry her over to the machine. 'Don't tempt me,' he muttered. 'Now, get your hands on those rails.'

Although forced down onto the machine by Carrick's weight, Jenna managed to keep her hands away from the console. She gave him a desperate push and slipped from his grasp.

'Come here, bitch,' Carrick snarled, lunging at Jenna as she evaded his clutches.

'Be careful!' Ellen shouted from the monitor. 'Don't let her go. Tie her up. Don't just stand there, stupid! Do something!'

Jenna ran behind the console, but Carrick caught up and pinned her against the wall with his body. After checking that he was out of Ellen's sight, a look of pure evil spread across his features. 'Yes, maybe I should tie you up.' Carrick crudely forced one of his legs between hers and crushed her breasts in his coarse hands. 'It's been a long time since I had a woman. You're not my type, but you're better than nothing.'

Jenna panicked. She reached up and clawed at Carrick's face, feeling her nails rake the softness of his eyes. Carrick screamed and fell backwards clutching his face and giving Jenna the chance she needed to dart past him and out through the door. Jenna ran from the unit as she had never run in her life before, and all she could hear as she flew down the corridor was Ellen screaming abuse at Carrick and Carrick swearing back at her in reply.

For the first time in her life, Jenna was grateful for being small. She crouched in the cramped recess behind the water cooler and listened to the echo of her pounding heart in the confined space. Footsteps approached along the corridor, accompanied by the sound of arguing voices. Had Ellen managed to join Carrick? No, there was only one voice: Carrick was cursing himself. The footsteps passed by her hiding place and then, as Jenna was starting to relax, they came to a halt and retraced their path to stop directly in front of the cooler. Jenna stifled the scream that threatened to burst from her lips and began to shake with fear, fear of what Carrick would do if he found her. She bit hard on her knuckles and tried to ignore the painful messages from her tender breasts, testimony to the mauling that awaited her. Carrick was standing within touching distance, and there was no way of escaping. Jenna screwed up her eyes to shut out the horror and heard the sound of running water – Carrick was drinking from the cooler! The noise went on and on until it finally ceased, and the sound of heavy footsteps resumed its rhythm along the corridor. For a long time after the footsteps had faded, Jenna remained crouched on the floor of her hiding place until she eventually managed to force her reluctant body out into the corridor. She listened carefully for sounds of nearby activity and then fled down the corridor as fast as she could in the opposite direction to the one Carrick had taken.

Jenna had a plan. It was not a good plan, but it was the best that she could come up with. She pulled a safety torch from her uniform sleeve and carefully and quietly made her way along darkened corridors to the cargo bay, all the time remaining alert for signs of movement in the adjoining rooms and corridors. She could hear no sounds so assumed that Carrick was searching the other side of the building. Her best chance, she reasoned, was to take the only serviceable skimmer to Tracker South where Vance would be waiting for her. Without a skimmer, Carrick could not pursue her, so at least she would be safe for a while.

The probing pencil of light from Jenna's torch showed that she was alone in the cargo bay. She quickly donned a protective suit and dragged the skimmer into the airlock. The air hissed from the chamber as the pressure started to drop, and Jenna snapped her helmet shut and tried to think through the next step of the procedure. The unscheduled opening of an outer door would trigger alarms throughout the base and immediately reveal her location to Carrick. The hissing noise faded. Jenna took a deep breath and twisted the release handle. She was now committed; there was no going back.

The skimmer's turbine whined into life, only to die after a few seconds of rotation. Jenna checked the gauges under the light of her torch to find that the power unit was showing a full charge.

'Come on!' she cried. 'Don't let me down, not now!'

Jenna attempted another start, but once again, the turbine failed to spool up. Her heart began to pound. By now, Carrick must have discovered her location and would be hurrying towards the cargo bay. Perspiration ran down Jenna's chest, and she started to hyperventilate. Brant had fixed the skimmer, so why wouldn't the damn thing start? There must be something else wrong with it. Two squares of light cut through the darkness and appeared on the ground a few meters away as the interior lights of the adjacent building lit up. Carrick had nearly caught up with her! After one final, futile attempt to start the skimmer, Jenna abandoned it and moved back into the heavier darkness next to the base walls to consider her next course of action. She stood on the hardstanding and thought rapidly. There was nowhere to hide outside the base. Behind her, the cargo bay lights lit up. Carrick would soon discover the open airlock and skimmer, and it would not take him long to put on a suit and join her outside. She now had no alternative but to make it to the tracker on foot.

As soon as Jenna stepped off the hardstanding, the soft dust started to suck at her feet and legs. She started to wade through the clinging surface and found that the faster she moved the less time her feet had to sink in, but after only a few minutes, perspiration was running into her eyes and her leg muscles were quivering under the demands of the unnatural movement. Instinctively, she reached up to wipe her face, but the gauntlet slapped ineffectually against her helmet. She cursed loudly. Why was Carrick so desperate to catch her, and why had Ellen said she must not be hurt? None of it made sense. Jenna caught her breath and looked back towards the base. Only two hundred meters separated her from the buildings. In the opposite direction, she saw the elevated tracker in the distance and knew that she was incapable of reaching it. Then the vision of Carrick's evil face stung her out of inactivity. She had no choice; one and a half kilometres was the difference between life and living hell, and no matter how long the journey took, she had to reach the tracker. Before setting off again, Jenna automatically glanced down at the luminous gauge on the front of her suit to check the air supply – and froze. Her oxygen generator was showing less than a half charge: only thirty minutes of air remained in the container! The suit was the one she had worn when she visited the tracker with Brant and had not yet recharged. It would take over an hour to reach the tracker; now her salvation depended upon returning to the base before her strength failed and gaining entry without Carrick's knowledge. She turned and started to retrace her steps, but this time, because she was fatigued, her feet sank deeper with each step, making the going even more strenuous. Soon Jenna started to flounder in the dust and had to stop before she lost her balance. She stood, breathing deeply, while streams of perspiration ran continuously down her face and glued strands of hair across her eyes.

Night turned to day, causing Jenna to jump. The external base lights flickered and flared, rending the darkness asunder and mercilessly exposing Jenna in their glare. Inside the base building, a figure moved along a row of windows and stopped opposite her. It gave her a wave. The sight of Carrick caused Jenna to retch, and she was unable to prevent the bitter juices from spraying into her helmet.

Jenna returned Carrick's stare. Carrick now controlled all the outer doors, and she would no longer be able to enter the base unless he allowed her inside. As the dust continued its inexorable pull at Jenna's leaden feet, Carrick pulled a chair to the window and casually sat down to watch. Jenna realized that she had run out of options. Trapped, with nowhere to hide and nowhere to go, an unwelcome meeting with Carrick appeared to be inevitable within the next thirty minutes – unless she was effectively prepared to commit suicide. What would Carrick do to her when he had her within his grasp? Then the enormity of her predicament overcame her, and Jenna burst into tears.

'Brant, why did you leave me? Vance, where are you?' Through tear-filled eyes, Carrick appeared to be moving in the window. Jenna looked again and saw him double up with laughter. He was taunting her, waiting for her to come begging at the airlock door. Another flood of tears welled from Jenna's eyes, and then she heard the sound of distant voices. Someone was out there; they had come to save her! Yes! The voices grew louder and angrier. Jenna desperately sought the location of the jeering crowd, and then remembered hearing the same voices before and recognized the sound of the Phasewaves talking to each other as they went out of synchronisation. The last strands of Jenna's optimism snapped. She let out a cry of anger and shook her fist at the figure in the window, losing her balance in the process and toppling slowly backwards. Next came darkness, complete and total, followed by silence. Jenna lay floating, weightless, engulfed in a black shroud, not knowing where she was or what she was. Warmth and comfort slowly enveloped her in their embrace, easing the distress and driving away the fear until she slipped into a state of total relaxation and knew nothing more.

****************

Jarvine craned his head back for a better view of the giant moon that hung overhead almost close enough to touch. Stars twinkled through a haze of smoke in the darkness behind it.

'What's your impression of this place?' Slater asked.

The nightclub was crowded and full of noise and activity. Jarvine looked around the room. All the booths were full, and several couples danced to slow music in the gloom of a central dance floor. 'It's something else.'

'I thought you might like it. You wouldn't know you're on level ten below ground.'

'I've spent all my life in Kalmis, and I've never heard of the Moonlight,' Jarvine said. 'How do you get in here?'

'It's normally through contacts, although having a shed-load of money will help you through the door.'

'So you come here a lot?'

'This building is totally secure,' Slater said. 'It's a nice, cosy place to be if you want to meet people and talk without worrying about who's listening. You're out of reach of the law down here.'

Jarvine was seeing a side to Slater of which he had not been aware, and he speculated about what kind of people Slater met in the club. The tall figure of a hostess wending her way across the dance floor with a tray of drinks caught Jarvine's eye. To his surprise, she came straight to their table and placed two heavy glasses on it. Jarvine could not keep his eyes off her. Her pure white skin and shaven head emphasized the finely structured bones of her face. She fixed Jarvine with a wide-eyed stare before turning away and, as she did so, he noticed that she was naked beneath a dress made from hanging strips of semi-transparent material. He followed her progress back across the dance floor until the flashing white stripes of her legs and buttocks melted into the darkness.

'Forget it,' Slater said. 'She's way outside your price-range.'

'What?' All Jarvine could see was a pair of steel-grey eyes boring into his and a long strip of white thigh.

'I said don't think about her; she's a rich man's toy. On the other hand, it might be a different story if you were a millionaire.'

Jarvine dragged his attention back to the table. He picked up his glass and swallowed a large slug of clear liquid. 'Hey, this is the good stuff.'

'They don't do second best down here. This is export quality from the Colonies.'

'They sure know how to look after you.' Jarvine took another gulp from his glass and looked around again, but most of the booths discreetly hid their occupants from view.

'Let's get down to business,' Slater said. 'Have you got anything to tell me?'

'I still haven't made up my mind. I'm worried. If your plan goes wrong, we'll be in big trouble, and the money won't be much use to us then.'

'A hit for five million isn't going to go away. Think of what will happen if we don't take it. Whoever picks up the contract isn't going to worry about the carnage they'll leave behind. For that kind of money, they're going to tear Plano apart. They'll probably take out the whole team, and when the dust settles, we're going to be the ones left trying to answer the questions.'

'It's got nothing to do with us,' Jarvine said. 'All the victims will be Gil's people.'

'Doesn't that send you a warning? A hit like this can't take place without inside information, and guess who didn't make the team, who wasn't there when all this was happening. If I was doing the investigation, I know where I would start looking. Make no mistake, we are going to be subject to the same scrutiny whether we are involved or not. Any team that goes into Plano in force is likely to take down three agents and a suspect, and after a hit like that, the whole of the Security Force will be out looking for blood. If we do it my way, however, only two people get the chop.'

'It's still too risky.'

'Even if we don't take it, we could still end up involved. It would only take the slightest suspicion that we know something, and you can guess the rest.'

'The more I hear, the less I like.'

'What's really worrying you?'

'It's Declan.' Jarvine pulled a face. 'I don't like the idea of killing Declan. He's still one of us.'

'Don't be concerned about Declan. That Milo is more of a problem because he has his own contacts, but I'll make sure that his team has moved out before we act. I'm not expecting you to finish off Jenna and Declan, but I can't do everything on my own. I need you to work with me and watch my back. If you don't join me, I'll have to pull out.'

Jarvine drained his glass, but replacements arrived almost as soon as he put it on the table, and he again found himself staring into expressionless grey eyes. Jarvine intently watched the willowy figure slowly sway from sight across the dance floor. 'What do you intend to do?' he asked.

'I have it all worked out. It's going to look like an accident, and there won't be any recriminations.'

'How are you going to fake the accident?'

'Don't worry about that. Something will happen, and then Jenna and Declan won't be with us anymore.'

'Tell me about it.'

'Not unless you're with me. If you decide to drop out, the less you know the better.'

Jarvine thought it over. 'What happens afterwards?'

'We'll be protected, and the money will be paid anywhere we want.'

'Who's going to protect us?'

'Are you in or not?'

'I'm still working on it.'

'For your own sake, I can't go any further unless you're committed.'

Jarvine remained undecided.

'Okay,' Slater said. 'I'm going to level with you. I've called in a favour from someone who owes me. I've got high level protection.'

'You mean in the Department? How high?'

'Very high.'

'What? Above Gil? In the Security Service? A Council member?'

Slater picked up his glass and looked away.

'I don't believe you,' Jarvine said.

'Listen. I've done favours for people in the past. Top people don't get where they are on their own; they all have murky backgrounds, and being on the Council doesn't mean they're any cleaner than the rest of us. What I can guarantee is that there won't be a full investigation, and you and I will be in the clear.'

'I don't know,' Jarvine said, still unwilling to commit himself.

'We've been through some scrapes together in the past, but name one occasion when I haven't delivered what I've promised or failed to cover for you.'

Jarvine could not think of one.

'This is what's going to happen. In three days' time, we'll take Jenna and Declan away from Plano and make sure they never come back. Afterwards, their bodies will be discovered elsewhere, and it will be confirmed that they died as the result of an accident.'

'With full-time surveillance on site, that could be risky, and we still have Gil to reckon with.'

'As I said, the support team at Plano won't be there when all this takes place, and Gil will have conveniently been called off the case. After the inevitable investigation, Gil will lose the Department, and it will be up for grabs. The authorities will then be looking for someone to take over who wasn't involved in the colossal cock-up that lost a suspect and an investigator. You could be my deputy. How do you fancy helping me run the Justice Department? At least we can quell any backlash from the deaths, and I like the idea of taking it easy and letting others do the running about for a change. I already know of some deals we can get involved in; this could be the start of a very lucrative arrangement.'

'It sounds straightforward when you put it like that.'

'It will be if we've got the guts to go for it. What future have we got mixing with the likes of Gil and Declan? There's life out here.' Slater swung his arm expansively around the room. 'This could be your regular watering hole. Believe me; you'll meet powerful and influential people in here. All you'll need is that first wad of cash to get you started.'

'I guess you're right; it's time to make the move,' Jarvine said. 'Okay, count me in.'

'I guarantee that you won't have any regrets. You're going to look back on this as the best decision of your life. From now on things are only going to improve; you'd better get used to it.'

Jarvine watched as the tall hostess walked past and caught his eye again. The place had a good feel to it. 'Yes,' he said. 'I reckon I could get used to more of this.'

#####  Chapter Nine

Nightfall was rapidly approaching as Jenna and Declan approached their apartment, and a huge, silver moon filled the sky, each of its tortured craters clearly visible to the naked eye. Tiny lights throughout the complex twinkled in the dusk.

'What prompted Carrick's appearance?' Declan asked.

'I didn't find out until much later that a human body contains what is known as a genetic imprint, which is actually a genetic signature applicable to all human beings that becomes unique by containing the DNA of its owner. When a person dies or changes to an aphysical state, their body releases a minute pulse of energy – an imprint – but if the process is carried out through a Phasewave machine, the imprint forms the core of the aphysical state that continues to live inside the machine. The process is reversible, but neither a human nor an aphysical form can be produced without that imprint.'

Declan pondered upon Jenna's statement.

'Let me help you,' Jenna said. 'An imprint cannot be artificially produced, but it is not personal. Once an imprint becomes available upon entry to the machine, anyone already inside the machine in an aphysical state can use that imprint to revert to human form. That's what took place after Vance entered the machine: Carrick absorbed Vance's imprint and used it to regain a physical state.'

'I'm not sure I understand any of this,' Declan said.

'You can use either your own or someone else's imprint to change back to a physical state, but that imprint can only be provided by another human being.'

'Where exactly were Ellen and Carrick?'

'They were living as formless states of energy under our very noses inside Unit Nine.'

'Why did they need Vance's imprint? What prevented them from using their own?'

'Something went wrong when Ellen and Carrick first entered the machine, and their imprints were destroyed, trapping them inside the machine. The only way they could then escape was to obtain two replacement imprints, which would become available if they could trick us into entering the machine. Once they had possession of our imprints, they could then assume physical form and take our places outside.'

Declan thought for a while. 'So there was no Scyros Maddoc, and they had never been transported to Vennica.'

'That was all an elaborate hoax; the only reason they did it was to coax us into the machine.'

'What were they doing in there in the first place?'

'I'll come to that later,' Jenna said. 'It was too much to take in at the time. Only afterwards, when I met and talked to Ellen, did I begin to understand the process.'

'You actually met Ellen?' Declan asked. 'You mean that you physically met her?'

'Oh, yes. I met Ellen all right.'

'If what you say is true, how could she materialize without an imprint?'

Jenna laughed. 'I accidentally provided her with one – I gave her Carrick's.'

Declan followed Jenna in silence up the stairs to their apartment. He tried to assess Jenna's credibility, but it would have required a huge amount of imagination to concoct such an incredible story, and he had no idea whether she was telling the truth or not. If Jenna had wanted to prove her innocence, however, she would surely have fabricated a more believable story.

The internal heating had taken the chill off the air by the time they entered the apartment. Declan sat and absentmindedly watched Jenna make coffee while he wondered what was going on inside her mind.

Jenna turned and saw him staring at her. She flashed him a quick smile. 'What are you thinking about?'

Declan was caught off guard. The soft lighting and angle of Jenna's face made her look beautiful, and Declan had an instant vision of Carrick's hands on her body. The thought sent a pain into his chest. 'I wasn't thinking about anything,' he lied.

'You were a long way from here,' Jenna said. 'I've learnt that much about you over the last few days.'

The possibility of Jenna being in danger had not troubled Declan before, but now the seriousness of her situation was becoming apparent, he was reacting in an unpredictable manner. Jenna handed him a cup of coffee and they sat in silence.

'Where are you from?' Jenna asked.

Declan was taken aback by the question. 'Spaceport,' he replied.

'No, I mean where were you born?'

'That is where I was born. I was part of the breeding programme.'

'So, no parents then?'

Declan shook his head. 'The wars were over by the time I reached age. I missed being sent to the Outstations and stayed on Vennica.'

'You certainly didn't miss anything; practically all my family were killed during the wars. It's funny looking back, but do you realize that people like you were being bred to kill people like me?'

'You could put it like that, but I fail to see a funny side to it.'

Jenna laughed. 'It was just a figure of speech, Declan. Don't take it literally, although I could use a good laugh after what I've just been through.'

'This is the first time I've seen you in a cheerful mood,' Declan said, 'but could you explain to me why you thought being bred to kill people was funny?'

Jenna tensed, sensing the start of a disagreement. 'I'm not sure that I can. My comment wasn't meant to be taken seriously. What are you getting at?'

'I suppose it all depends on the meaning of the word humour.'

'Look, Declan. I don't know you very well, and I don't want to start an argument. I believe that I have a sense of humour, although I notice that you never smile or laugh. Would you agree with me if I said that you are not a humorous person?'

'Of course I have a sense of humour,' Declan replied. 'I appreciate a good joke, particularly when the situation dictates. I am surprised that you took a contrary view.'

'That's reassuring. I was beginning to think that while you were growing up on Spaceport, a surgeon might have performed a humour bypass on you.'

'I wasn't aware there was such a procedure.'

'So, why don't you tell me a joke? Or what you believe to be a joke.'

Declan thought hard. 'I cannot think of one. The last joke I heard was several years ago, but I cannot remember what it was about.'

'You definitely don't sound like a regular comedian,' Jenna commented.

'You can test me if you like. Why don't you tell me a joke and make me laugh?'

'Are you for real?'

'I'm being perfectly serious. Tell me a joke.'

'Following your recent comments, I don't think that would be appropriate.'

'Don't mind me. Go ahead; give it your best shot.'

Jenna considered Declan's request. 'In which case, I will try my best, although it does sounds like a challenge. Let me think for a moment. Right, this is my favourite joke, and I think it should do the trick.' Jenna smiled again. 'Are you quite sure that you are up for a dose of hilarity?'

'I certainly am.'

Jenna tried to keep a straight face. 'There was this spaceship ....'

'Was it in space?' Declan interrupted.

'Obviously, it was in space – where else would a spaceship be? Anyway, this crew member was in charge of it.'

'Was he a pilot?'

'I guess. Yes, we'll call him a pilot. May I continue?'

'Was he the captain?'

'As you wish. He was the captain, and he was on his own on the bridge.'

'Did he have a name?'

'This isn't going to work if you won't listen,' Jenna said. 'Let's try again some other time.'

'I am listening to you,' Declan insisted. 'Please humour me.'

'Very well, I will humour you.' Jenna sighed and took a deep breath. 'In answer to your question, the captain did have a name. He was called Jerkoff – Captain Hans Jerkoff. Does that name mean anything to you?'

'No. Should it?'

'In your case, I thought it might. So there he was, on the bridge on his own ....'

'Why was he on his own? Don't regulations forbid that?'

'I suspect Captain Jerkoff spent a lot of time on his own, but let's just say that he had an assistant who had left the bridge for a moment to use the restroom. Would you find that acceptable?'

'The timing would appear coincidental, but I suppose it could occur.'

'Good. There is a major emergency.'

'What kind of emergency?'

'I can't get past you today, can I? The emergency was the kind that could have blown the ship to pieces if the Captain had made a mistake in sorting it out. Are you sure you want to hear this?'

'I certainly am. So far, it sounds fascinating.'

'So the captain spots the emergency and goes through his checklist, but when he reaches the final action on the list, he is faced with a dilemma. He needs to press one of two identical, unmarked buttons on the control panel, one of which will resolve the emergency, and the other will blow the ship into oblivion, in the process killing the hundreds of people who are aboard. He stares at the buttons and racks his brains, but he cannot remember which is which.'

'They would probably have been in different colours or labelled or marked in some way to differentiate them.'

'In your world, they most definitely would,' Jenna agreed, 'but on this occasion the labels were missing, and the coloured paint had been rubbed off the buttons by generations of pilots who spent millions of hours sat on the bridge being bored out of their skulls. Happy now? Can I get on with this joke?'

'Please continue.'

'The gauges on the instrument panel are all pointing off the clock, funny red lights are blinking on and off all over the place and in the background, sirens are going "whoop, whoop". The ship starts to shake to pieces, eventually forcing the Captain to press one of the buttons. He does so, and the ship explodes.'

'What's funny about that?'

'Nothing – yet. All the other people on the ship are wiped out, but the Captain miraculously survives and wakes up to find himself connected to a life-support machine in a hospital bed. He is in a ward full of other people, who also are connected to life support machines.'

'How did he get to a hospital?'

'As I remember, he was on a stretcher. Okay? As he lies there in bed, listening to his support machine making strange noises, his memory starts to return, and he realizes that he has pressed the wrong button and killed everyone on the ship. He feels terrible guilt and knows that he cannot live with the shame of making such a horrendous mistake, so he decides to do the honourable thing and top himself. He reaches down under the bed until he finds a power cable. Then he runs his hand along the cable until he arrives at the plug on the wall, and he pulls it from its socket.'

'Technically, that is impossible. Those plugs are ....'

'For God's sake, Declan! Give me a break.'

'I was only trying to indicate that such an action could be both dangerous and preventable.'

'You bet your sweet life it could. Now listen carefully; this is called the punchline. Immediately after the captain pulls the plug out of the wall, the man in the next bed dies!' Jenna burst into laughter.

Declan was puzzled. 'You mean the machines were wired incorrectly?'

Jenna laughed hysterically until she dissolved into tears.

'I don't understand,' Declan said. 'Is that the end of the joke?'

'Of course it is! The guy just screwed up again – big style!' Jenna wiped her eyes and got up to leave the room. 'I'm sorry, but I need to use the bathroom. Keep working on that other joke you heard and let me know when it turns up. Also, could you give me the name of the surgeon who performed your humour bypass? I think I am going to need one.'

Declan noticed that Jenna was still in a jolly mood when she returned. 'You must explain the meaning of that joke,' he said.

Jenna tried to suppress her amusement. 'Let's write it off to experience and revisit the subject when we have time to spare. On second thought, make that a lot of time to spare. Right now, I think we need to concentrate on my story.'

'Very well. Would you like to take a rest before we go any further?'

'No. Let's get it over with.'

'As I remember, you last finished your story at the point where you were left in darkness outside the base. Did Ellen help you to overcome that situation?'

'No way. Ellen and Carrick were two of a kind, the kind you wouldn't wish to get involved with, especially if you were standing outside the base on Bouron with only enough air to last you thirty minutes. At times like that you need more than help – you need a miracle.'

'Did you get that miracle?'

'Personally I don't believe in divine intervention, but what took place had to have been the next best thing.'

****************

Faint lights penetrated the darkness inside Jenna's helmet. She twisted her head from side to side until her vision cleared, and the points of light swam into focus – they were the orbiting satellites of Bouron reflecting light from an invisible sun. Jenna tried to move but could feel no sensation of motion. She turned her head as far as it would go and realized that she was lying on her back, imperceptibly sinking into the soft layer of surface dust on the planet. With a tremendous effort, she managed to lever the upper half of her body free of the dust and then pull her legs to the surface one at a time until she was able to struggle to her feet. She almost fell, then regained her balance and stood and took stock of the situation while the relentless dust slowly tightened its grip on her legs. Gradually her vision adapted to the faint starlight, and she noticed that all the base lights were off. Carrick must have disabled them, she thought, but an external source supplied power to the recognition lights on top of the buildings, and they always remained illuminated. A complete power failure on a base was unheard of, but that was the only scenario that could explain the failure of all the lights. Were the sub drives still active? What essential services – air supplies, water, and heating – were still available? A ray of hope shone through the fog of Jenna's despair. The airlocks were fail-safe, and in the event of a power failure, the outer doors automatically unlocked, so if she could reach the building before Carrick restored the power, she could gain access through any of its entrances.

Jenna set off back towards the base with renewed energy, struggling against the cloying drag of the soft surface as moisture from her overheated body steamed up the inside of her face plate and distorted her vision. The journey seemed to start in one lifetime and end in another, but the anticipated flare of light did not materialize. Finally, Jenna found herself on her hands and knees outside an emergency airlock and swung the heavy door open with a huge effort. Then her ordeal was over, and she slumped down against the airlock wall and gratefully let the welcome increase in air pressure mould the suit to her body. The inner door eventually opened, and Jenna dragged herself into the storeroom and prised the helmet from her suit, gulping down cold air and revelling in its drying effect on her skin. She then wiped the moisture from her face with the backs of her hands and gave thanks to the quirk of fate that had allowed her to return to safety.

As if by way of reply, the lights came on inside the room. Jenna jumped up, expecting to see Carrick's menacing figure bearing down upon her, but the only other human form inside the room was a reflection of herself in the polished steel door of a locker. Jenna stared into the face of a hundred year old woman. Matted hair straggled into her eyes; her skin shone with an unnatural pallor, and a ribbon of congealed vomit encircled her neck. Jenna turned away in disgust. She discarded the soiled suit and soaked a cloth in the drinking fountain to sponge the grime from her face and neck, feeling better with each cold application of water. What could have gone wrong on the base since she left it? Carrick must have restored the power, in which case she could expect him to come looking for her at any time. The base consisted of individual, hermetically sealed units, so even if she hid, it would only be a matter of time before she would have to expose herself in order to seek supplies. She had won a reprieve, but without a skimmer, there was nowhere to go, and soon she would have to stand up to Carrick or accept the awful alternative. Jenna caught sight of her grim reflection again. What was she thinking of? She had never fought anyone in her life, and Carrick was far stronger than she was. Well, there was no turning back; it was either Carrick or her, and she badly needed an equalizer, anything that she could use as a weapon.

The locker in front of her contained an assortment of mechanical tools. She opened its door, picked out a metal pinning bar and weighed it in her hand. It gave her an advantage, although it would not be much use as an attack weapon. She replaced it in the locker and continued to search the other lockers in turn. Only when she reached the last locker did she find what she was looking for: a thermic lance! She could have wept with joy. Holding the meter long lance in front of her, she switched it on and saw a jet of white flame spit from its nozzle. Yes, if the lance were capable of opening up a plasma chamber, it would stop anyone in their tracks. Jenna deactivated the lance and watched the nozzle colour fade to a dull red. What was she going to do when she made contact with Carrick? Even if she managed to overpower him, there was nowhere to restrain him permanently. Her hopes began to fade. Then she had a brainwave, a flash of pure inspiration. If she could somehow force Carrick back into the Phasewave machine, she could then remove its handrails. Without the rails, which appeared to be essential for the machine's operation, Carrick would be prevented from pursuing her. The idea shocked her with its simplicity, but she was aware that its successful execution would take every bit of courage she possessed. She would seek out Carrick immediately, before she had time to lose her nerve.

With her lance at the ready, Jenna cautiously entered the deserted control room and detected a familiar smell in the air: ozone. There must have been an electrical discharge in there at some time, she thought. Keeping close to the wall, she circled the room, reaching the halfway point before noticing Carrick's body lying prone on the floor, partially concealed behind a workstation. Jenna switched on the lance and warily approached the motionless form. Carrick appeared to be uninjured, so why was he lying there? While she was watching, Carrick let out a groan, but his eyes remained tightly shut. What should she do? Maybe he was faking, waiting for her to come within range so that he could overpower her. There was one certain way to find out. Jenna slowly lowered the white-hot lance tip towards Carrick's face, but it was only when a strand of smoke began to curl from his hair and he still had not moved that she became convinced he was not faking. Jenna deactivated the lance and laid it on the floor. She then rolled Carrick onto his back and closely inspected him. There were no visible signs of injury on his body, although the smell of ozone was strongest on his clothes. He appeared to have received an electric shock, but she could not see anything in the room capable of delivering a current powerful enough to render him unconscious.

Jenna stood up and tried to think what she should do with Carrick. Finding him unconscious was an unexpected bonus, and now she could secure him. Then what? Even if she tied him up, she would still have to find somewhere secure to imprison him. Why not stick to the original plan and zap him in the Phasewave? Jenna tried to move Carrick's heavy body but had to give up after dragging him only a few meters. The plan was too good to dismiss lightly. Come on, she thought; think laterally. Was there another way? On the wall an emergency repair pack contained rolls of heavy-duty adhesive tape to seal pressurization leaks, and in a corner of the room, she spotted a mobile chair. It was simple! Lash Carrick to the chair and take him over to the Phasewave. Jenna was feeling pleasantly confident as she trundled the chair over to Carrick's unconscious body. Things were working out better than expected. With Carrick safely out of the way, she could meet up with Vance in the tracker, and together they would ensure that Ellen and Carrick would remain permanently confined inside the Phasewave.

The fear that Ellen might be waiting for her in Unit Nine caused Jenna some trepidation, but when she arrived at the Phasewave, there was no sign of anyone inside. Jenna unceremoniously tipped Carrick out of the chair next to the machine and securely taped both his hands to the rails. After leaving him slumped on his knees in an attitude of prayer, she walked over to the console and tried to work out how to start the transfer. There was an access pad in front of her, but she had never seen it in use. Ellen had mentioned a keying sequence, so the pad must have a purpose. Maybe the condition of the keys would give her a clue. It was while she was examining the pad that Carrick gave a loud grunt and tried to move. Jenna looked up sharply and remembered that her thermic lance was still lying on the control room floor. In desperation, she punched in a random set of numbers and waited, but the hoped-for transition did not take place. Several attempts later, she was no closer to success and beginning to panic. Carrick raised his head at the sound of the keystrokes and tried to focus his eyes. A jumble of unrecognizable words came from his mouth.

Again, Jenna frantically attempted to input the correct code. 'Come on!' she cried, stabbing desperately at the keys. Upon hearing Jenna call out, Carrick located the source of the sound and managed to focus on her.

'You,' Carrick whispered accusingly. He found his movement was restricted and looked down to discover his hands taped to the machine. For a few moments, Carrick stared at the tapes in disbelief and then let out a mighty roar and started to struggle violently against the restraints on his hands and wrists.

'You bitch!' he yelled. 'When I get hold of you, I'm going to fucking kill you!'

Jenna stood, rooted to the spot, and watched in horror as Carrick arched his back and, with a tremendous effort, levered one of the rails from the front of the machine. He slowly turned to Jenna, breathing heavily from his exertions, and triumphantly held up the metal bar, still trailing its connecting wires, in the air. The familiar, cruel look reappeared on his features.

'What do you say now, little girl?'

Jenna could not speak. Carrick had dashed her hopes and plans, and despair sapped her ability to act.

Carrick twisted his arms to release the tapes, but they remained obstinately fastened.

'Take these off,' Carrick said. 'Right now I'm the only friend you've got; you can't do anything without me. You're only making things worse for yourself, so undo these tapes before I break this machine to pieces.'

Despite her all-consuming terror, Jenna felt herself forced to act against her instincts by the sheer strength of Carrick's will and inadvertently moved towards him.

'That's right, come closer. From now on you're going to do everything I tell you.'

At the sound of Carrick's words, Jenna felt her body revolt and stop of its own accord. She stood, paralyzed with fear, and watched while Carrick's face turned purple with rage. He let out another snarling roar and arched his back again, poised to break free from his restraints. Jenna inadvertently screamed, and the sound of her scream drowned out the humming noise that simultaneously emanated from the Phasewave. All she noticed was the colour fade from Carrick's face before he disappeared from sight.

Drained of all her energy, Jenna slumped against the console but knew that she had to disable the machine before Carrick found a way back. She summoned all her strength and ran over to the broken rails. It was then that she heard and recognized the familiar humming noise when, to her dismay, another human form started to appear before her. She was too late – Carrick was returning! The body quickly solidified. No, it wasn't Carrick; it was ... Ellen! Jenna instinctively jumped away from her, prepared to flee for her life.

'Please,' Ellen said, holding out her hands in a gesture of supplication. 'I'm not here to hurt you.'

Something about her appearance, the sadness in her expression and general dejection in her demeanour, checked Jenna's flight from the room. Ellen was taller than she appeared in the hologram and had wide shoulders.

'If it will make you feel safer, go fetch your lance. You've every reason to be distrustful.'

Jenna did not reply, only vaguely grasping the fact that when one person entered the machine another could somehow take their place. 'Where's Vance?' she finally demanded.

'Vance is doing okay; there's no need for you to worry about him,' Ellen wearily replied. 'Do you mind if I sit down?'

'Go ahead.' Jenna suspiciously watched Ellen take the chair that had recently restrained Carrick.

Ellen put her head in her hands. 'I'm so sorry. I sincerely apologize for Carrick's behaviour, but he was not responsible for his actions.'

'He looked to me as if he knew exactly what he was doing.'

'You've no idea what it's like being trapped inside that machine. We spent three months in there, and Carrick was going insane because he suffers from claustrophobia. The relief of escaping unhinged his mind.'

'What are you talking about? You said you were on Vennica.'

'We thought we were going to die.' Ellen's voice suddenly broke, and she lowered her head and started to cry.

Jenna stood back, unwilling to trust her own feelings, but eventually, overcome with relief and pity, went over and stood next to her.

Ellen gradually regained her composure and wiped her face with a tissue. 'I must have some water. Will you come with me to the quarters? I don't want to be left on my own.'

Jenna accompanied Ellen to the mess hall and watched while Ellen sat at a table and drank several glasses of water, after which she washed her face at the sink and tied back her hair.

'That's better,' Ellen said. 'I feel almost human again. I guess that's an understatement after being without a body for so long.'

'I don't understand.'

'You won't. When we went inside the machine, we didn't understand either. You can relax; you have nothing to fear from us anymore. I will tell you everything that happened. I will tell you the whole story from the very beginning, and then you will know as much as I do.'

****************

Declan was exhausted, but a host of questions had formed a queue and were demanding answers. He got up and slowly paced the room, aware for the first time that others were listening to every word they spoke. 'How did Ellen and Carrick become trapped inside the Phasewave in the first place, and who showed them how to carry out the modifications?'

'The alien did. It impersonated Scyros Maddoc and explained how they could travel through Phasewave. I know I'm starting to sound insane, but I can't help it.'

A tremendous excitement gripped Declan: this was the moment he was waiting for. 'Tell me about the alien.'

'I can't tell you very much because it had gone by the time I arrived on Bouron.'

A gush of cold reality washed away Declan's excitement. After all the suspense, there was nothing in it. He felt deflated and cheated. 'So you never made contact with the alien?'

'I didn't, but the others did. Before you jump to conclusions, remember that I saw people go in and out of the machine with my own eyes, and I saw work done on a Phasewave machine that none of us could have dreamt about. That was proof to me. Oh yes, an alien had been through there all right. Let me tell you what Ellen had to say about how the alien first arrived on Bouron and why it impersonated Scyros Maddoc.'

****************

Ellen squeezed Jenna's hand and tears again came to her eyes. She wiped them away. 'You must think so badly of us. I cannot apologize enough for what happened, but you've no idea what it's like being inside a Phasewave.'

'What were you doing inside the Phasewave?'

'The alien trapped us inside the machine. It took us all. It destroyed Rogan and Sewell and took our bodies.'

'There's no such thing as an alien,' Jenna said.

'You think not? You saw Vance go into the machine and both of us appear out of nowhere, and you think not? Is that something that happens every day? You don't know the half of it.'

Jenna had to accept that there was logic in what Ellen was saying; she herself had witnessed the impossible, so something inexplicable must have taken place.

'Let me tell you how the alien arrived on the scene and betrayed us,' Ellen said, 'and then you'll believe me. The base had been shut down for two days to allow a comet to pass through the inbound transmission lane, and when we started up again, we caught the comet tail.'

****************

'Shit!' Carrick exclaimed. 'It's still there. Take a look.'

Ellen increased the tracker magnification and saw the last remnants of the debris trail lying across the transmission lane. The comet itself had passed between Vennica and Bouron during the night and was outside the range of the tracker viewfinder.

'I knew we should have done another sweep at dawn. There's still too much crap blocking the lane. Damn it!' Carrick paced agitatedly up and down the control room, watched impassively by Ellen. 'We were promised that the tail would be clear by this morning, and in ten minutes time we're going to be hit by the biggest backlog of data ever to be handled by Phasewave. I've no choice; I have to cancel the start.'

'It's not the end of the world,' Ellen said. 'What's the point in cancelling the start when there's only a two-day backlog to clear? What's to be gained by going through this all over again?'

'You know as well as I do that you can't transmit a phased beam through that much debris.'

'So a few people get fuzzy pictures on their screens, it's no big deal.' Ellen watched the tracker image slowly move. 'The rubbish is clearing now and will probably be out of the way by the time the first batch gets here.'

'I'm going for Option Two. We'll try again tomorrow.'

'You're not thinking straight,' Ellen said. 'The worst that can happen is a couple of hours of signal distortion. If some number cruncher on Vennica, who doesn't know one end of a comet from the other, decides that a two-day shutdown is long enough for the lane to clear, that's okay by me. However, if you decide at the last minute to question the validity of that decision and tack on another day's delay for good luck, I think you can kiss goodbye to this year's bonus. The Company can be a bit unpredictable when minions like us question their decisions; bear that in mind when you decide to collapse the Wave.'

'I'm addressing a valid safety issue. This is up to me; this isn't the Company's decision. I have that option.'

'Okay, smart guy. Name one person who's ever taken that kind of option and is still working for the Company. Get real. The Wave took ten hours to stabilize; it's not something you can just turn on and off like a light. Why take a risk if you don't have to?'

Carrick paced the floor and checked the time again. 'I've left it too late! Oh, shit! It's too late to cancel the start.'

'Let it ride,' Ellen said. 'Relax. You worry too much.'

Carrick let out an audible sigh of resignation. 'I guess you're right. It wasn't up to us; it was up to the Company. They made the decision, and it was the wrong one. I just hope to God that we don't foul up the transfer.'

'Nothing's going to affect the transfer.' Ellen looked through the tracker again. 'That's the beauty of Phasewave: it's so dependable.'

With less than two minutes left to go, Carrick glanced one last time at the status read-outs. Beyond the control room, twelve perfectly functioning Phasewave transceivers waited hungrily to receive data from the far reaches of space. Rogan and Sewell were operating the distribution grid, ready to monitor the transfer. Everything was in place; there was nothing to do except wait for the incoming transmission.

A slight quiver, caused by the generators' increased output, vibrated the room and signalled the arrival of data. Ellen stood by Carrick and watched the units change status in sequence as they absorbed the load. Unit Eight came on line, and Carrick started to relax.

'There you are,' Ellen said, slipping her arm around Carrick's waist. 'What was difficult about that?'

Carrick gave a short laugh. 'You're right, as you usually are.' He stared at the status displays. 'Unit Nine's not initialized. What's the matter with it?'

'Maybe the data backlog's complete,' Ellen suggested.

'It's too soon, we were expecting a ....'

A blinding flash of light turned the inside of the room white, and the shock of a nearby explosion rattled the building.

'What the fuck was that?' Carrick shouted.

Ellen ran to the window, but could not see anything.

'I knew it!' Carrick was beside himself with fury. 'This is your fault. Why the fuck did I listen to you?'

Ellen still could not see what had taken place. 'Where was the explosion?'

'Here.' Carrick pointed to the screen. 'Unit Nine's flagged a fail caption. Thanks to you, we've just lost a Phasewave unit.'

'When did this become my doing?' Ellen stood with her hands on her hips and glared at Carrick. 'Let's get something straight, shall we? There was a lightning strike, okay? That's no big deal in these parts; it's not as if we've never seen lightning before. The comet has nothing to do with it.'

'There's never been a recorded surface strike on Bouron,' Carrick said. 'That discharge could only have been caused by junk brought down from the comet tail.'

'Balls. It was just a lightning strike. In case you don't know, comets and lightning have nothing in common.'

Rogan joined them in the operations room. 'Did you see that big mother? That was some hit.'

'Tell me, Rogan,' Ellen said. 'Was that a lightning strike or not?'

'It looked more like an energy surge through the microwave grid,' Rogan said. 'I actually saw the splitter divert the beam into Unit Nine.'

'We'd better take a look at it,' Carrick said.

'Don't bother,' Rogan said. 'Sewell's already down there, but I wouldn't count on using that one again.'

'Thanks,' Carrick said sarcastically. 'That's just what I need.'

'Let's wait and see what Sewell has to say.' Rogan added. 'It might not be that bad.'

'The unit's scrap,' Sewell said. 'The accelerator casing has distorted; it took one hell of a discharge.'

Carrick glared accusingly across the room at Ellen. 'I should have terminated the start. The transmission picked up something from the comet tail, and now we've lost Unit Nine. This is all due to you.'

'Oh, come on,' Sewell said. 'You know you wouldn't have got any thanks from the Company if you'd cancelled the start. What does it matter if the Company has to cough up for a new unit? They'll more than recover the cost from the extra profits generated by the backlog. Forget about it.'

Ellen walked up to Rogan and gave him a hard stare. 'That was a lightning strike, wasn't it? It had nothing to do with the comet tail, did it?'

Rogan shrugged, recognizing the signs of an impending, and usually unwinnable, altercation. 'I guess. It was a big one though.'

'But it could have been lightning?'

'Sure. Yes, it could have been.'

'There you are.' Ellen turned to Carrick. 'It was a lightning strike – nothing special, just a straightforward act of nature.'

Sewell and Rogan exchanged glances and left the room, leaving Carrick at his desk to worry about the loss of the unit. Ellen went and stood behind him and started to massage his shoulders, kneading the hard knots of tension in the muscles at the base of his neck.

Carrick eventually tilted his head back and gasped. 'That feels good.' He looked down again at the report he was filing. 'I can't think of a way to put this on record without incriminating us.'

'It's not a problem.' Ellen drove her thumbs deeper into Carrick's spine. 'This is what you're going to say in your report. The start-up went perfectly, just as those clever people on Vennica said it would, and after you've put that in the log, you add yet another warning about the increased electrical activity on Bouron and the possibility of a lightning strike hitting an installation. When the Company finally receives the report, it will be completely ignored, as were all the warnings that you and others before you have sent in. Then, in a few weeks' time, the unthinkable happens when a lightning strike does hit the ground and takes out poor old Unit Nine, exactly as you predicted. That'll cover us.'

Under Ellen's expert manipulation, Carrick felt the tension begin to flow out of his muscles. He started to feel a lot happier. 'Yes, that might work.'

'It'll be a real shame when those nice people in head office start digging through their paperwork and find all the previous warnings they've been given,' Ellen added. 'This way, when heads start to roll, they won't be ours.'

'I like the sound of that,' Carrick said, and then stiffened as Ellen stabbed her fingers into his neck again. He felt her firm breasts press against his back and knew that she was aroused. After a few more minutes of massage, Ellen took hold of his hand and pulled him to his feet.

'Where are we going?' Carrick asked, although he already knew the answer to his question.

'You'll see,' Ellen said as she led him from the room like a captive animal.

The thin walls of the base complex did nothing to disguise Ellen's cries of passion.

'I can't take another four months of this,' Rogan said, putting down the repair he was working on. 'Don't they ever stop?'

Sewell laughed. 'I think Carrick's got a wildcat in there with him.'

'Well, that's Ellen for you,' Rogan said, and then saw the humour in the situation and joined Sewell in laughter.

'Carrick's got his hands full, believe me. You wouldn't want to get involved with her.'

Rogan tugged at his ear. 'Seriously though, that strike was the strangest thing. I was looking directly at the splitter when the transmission came through, and it was definitely a straight-line discharge. That's the one thing lightning doesn't do.'

'Maybe the transmission did pick up something from the comet tail after all.'

'I reckon it could have,' Rogan said. The transmission only became visible after it came through the wave-guide. Would that happen if something came down in the beam?'

'Search me,' Sewell said. 'How much do you know about particle beam transmissions?'

'Only that that they were made illegal after the last war,' Rogan replied.

'Well, if there had been anything in the beam, it would have been destroyed by the heat of the explosion; it certainly didn't do Unit Nine any good.'

Rogan packed up his tools. 'You're probably right, but I think I'll stick with the lightning theory. At least it's something everyone understands.'

****************

Jenna interrupted Ellen's story. 'What's this got to do with your being inside the Phasewave?'

'Because that's when the alien joined us.'

'You mean it came down on the beam?'

'I don't know exactly what happened,' Ellen said. 'We didn't come into contact with the alien until later and then only briefly after we became trapped inside the Phasewave. I've no idea how it survived because it didn't have a physical form; all we knew was that it somehow ended up living inside Unit Nine. Carrick was convinced that the incoming transmission had picked it up in space and brought it down into the transceiver, causing the strike that knocked out the unit. I'm not so sure. There's a lot of unexplained electrical activity on Bouron, and it could have been there all the time living in the rat-runs underneath the base. Who knows?'

'You must have learnt something about the alien if you shared the machine together,' Jenna said.

'Yes, before it moved on we did discover certain things about it.' Ellen went over to the cooler and refilled the water jug. 'Only they weren't good things. The rest we guessed at.'

'Why did it want to take your bodies?'

'We were never sure about that either. To us it appeared to lead a perfect existence. Imagine not having a body to worry about – no illness, no aging, just pure, formless intelligence – but I guess we'll never know what gives an alien its buzz. It was clever, though. Somehow, it had learned to think like a human being, and it had been watching us, trying to work out a way to get hold of our bodies. Eventually it decided to impersonate Scyros Maddoc to get us into the machine. It was a weird idea, but it worked. When you tell people what they want to hear, they'll generally believe you. It's not that difficult; ask Vance why he changed his mind about going into the Phasewave after he discovered that it would fix his heart. We went into that machine with our eyes open and our minds closed. Looking back, I can't believe we were that naive, but we were all taken in.'

'So, was there any particular reason why the alien chose to impersonate Scyros Maddoc?

'There's a reason for everything,' Ellen replied. 'Let me tell you all about Scyros Maddoc.'

****************

#####  Chapter Ten

'I don't know what you see in that show,' Ellen said.

Carrick was almost hysterical with mirth. 'Come and watch ... there it goes. Yes!'

Ellen studied the dishevelled, white-haired man on the screen and could only think that he looked mad. 'Turn that crap off.'

'Wait! Look, this is a good one.'

Ellen turned her back on the screen and carried on writing her diary.

'Here's another cracker coming up,' Carrick said. 'Just come and watch this.'

'I don't find him the slightest bit funny,' Ellen said. She tried to concentrate on her writing but finally abandoned it and joined Carrick on the couch in their living area.

'It's interactive. You've got to get into the show.' Carrick leaned against Ellen and she put her arm around him.

'Most of his crackpot ideas don't work,' Ellen said. 'They're just plain stupid.'

'They're not supposed to work. That's the whole point. Only a few of the inventions on each show are actually genuine. That's what makes it addictive – you've got to watch closely to spot the real ones.'

'I'd rather wait for rain on Bouron; I'm sure it would be more productive.'

Carrick burst out laughing as another contraption collapsed in pieces on the floor. The sound of the studio audience drowned his laughter.

'Oh, please.' Ellen got up from the couch. 'How can you expect me to waste my time watching that lunatic? It's an insult to my intelligence and to yours, assuming you had any intelligence in the first place.'

'Lunatic?' Carrick looked at Ellen in surprise. 'You owe that lunatic.'

'Sleepless nights are what I owe him. Why can't he invent something to blank out the sound of you hooting all night in the next room while I'm trying to get some sleep? Why can't he produce something useful for a change?'

'He already did,' Carrick said with a knowing look. 'He invented Phasewave.'

Ellen stopped in the doorway. 'Are you trying to tell me that old fool Scyros Maddoc invented Phasewave? Do me a favour!'

'It's true. Scyros discovered the Phasewave principle by accident and then didn't know what to do with it. Nothing is ever straightforward where he is concerned. In the end he practically gave the patent away, and the rest, as they say, is history.'

Ellen returned to the couch and watched another experiment fail. It left her cold. She shook her head and got up to leave. 'I really don't know what to say.'

Carrick reached out and turned off the monitor. 'I've got recordings of all his shows; you can watch them any time you want.'

Ellen knew that Carrick was winding her up and tried to think of a suitably cutting reply.

'While you're here, take a look at this.' Carrick pointed to the monitor screen. 'Have you noticed this tiny spot of light that's left in the middle of the screen after it's been turned off? I'm sure it was never there before.'

'I can't say I've noticed.'

'The other day I actually saw the light come on after I entered a room. I feel as though somebody's watching me through the monitor.'

'You're imagining things,' Ellen said. 'It's probably caused by those stray currents that crawl beneath the foundations or by some random electromagnetic field. On the other hand, it could be one of Scyros' crazy inventions. He's probably watching your reaction to his show; after all, you must be the only person to find him amusing.'

'Ha, ha. Very funny. You wait, one day you'll eat your words when you find out what a brilliant mind he's got.'

****************

'That's how it started,' Ellen said. 'The alien was watching us from inside the monitors, and the spots of light on the screens were caused by its energy field.'

Jenna suddenly remembered noticing the light on the screen in Ellen's cabin. It had been on while she searched through Ellen's belongings. Had Ellen been watching her? She quickly directed the conversation back to the alien. 'Was the alien impersonating Scyros Maddoc on the media shows?'

'No, he went one better and laid on a live show especially for us. One day Carrick got a call on his messager to go to Unit Nine. When he got inside the unit, the communicator screen lit up, and Carrick found himself talking to his hero, Scyros Maddoc, who claimed to be conducting an experiment from a laboratory on Vennica.'

'I think I can guess what happened next,' Jenna said.

'I thought it might sound familiar – I can't claim it was an original idea.'

****************

Declan peered through the apartment window at the dark shadows of the nearby mountains. It was late, but he wanted to resolve some outstanding issues before Jenna finished for the night. 'When you first talked to Ellen and Carrick, was there any way you could determine if the transmission was actually coming from Vennica?'

'No,' Jenna said. 'Phasewave controls the Intranet, which is very different from the earlier Extranet. The whole point of the relay process is that it eliminates the time lag from the transmission and allows real-time communication. If someone contacts you through Phasewave, they could be anywhere within Phasewave range, which includes all of the planetary systems, or they could be inside the machine itself. You would have no way of knowing where they were.'

Declan suddenly became aware of an overriding fatigue that cried out for him to be alone. 'I've still got a few things to do tonight. May I suggest that we leave off now and start again tomorrow?'

'Sure,' Jenna said. 'How am I doing? I don't suppose this is making much sense to you.'

'To use your expression – I'm starting to wrap my head round it.'

Declan savoured the silence inside his bedroom and realized that it was his first free time since his arrival on Vennica. He remained in contented contemplation for over an hour and then switched on the communications centre, tapped into its data banks, and settled down to study. For most of the night, Declan pored over the plans of a Phasewave unit, but it was almost dawn before he found what he was looking for and called Gil. The communicator sprang to life, and Gil's bleary-eyed face appeared on its screen.

'I'm sorry to wake you,' Declan said, 'but I've got some preliminary findings you should know about.'

Gil yawned. 'Go ahead. I'll be listening, even if my eyes are closed.'

'I've come to the conclusion that an alien life-form played a major part in this incident.'

'What?' Gil's eyes snapped open.

'I believe there actually was an alien presence on Bouron.'

'Are you serious? Yes, you must be serious. Nobody calls at this hour in the morning for a joke. Are you telling me there is a possibility that an alien actually existed?'

'I haven't got any proof yet if that's what you're asking, but I've checked the Phasewave logic and think that ice debris from a comet tail was brought down to Bouron on a Phasewave transmission. The Phasewave machine then accidentally processed the organic components trapped inside the debris and managed to create a living entity before the machine was destroyed by a thermal overload.'

'Tell me that this isn't true.' Gil stared at Declan in disbelief.

'The theory correlates with the work I was involved in on Scion3, but we were working with comparatively crude equipment and had no idea that Phasewave could have completed our task in a fraction of the time it took us.'

'Surely nothing could survive the force of the explosion.'

'Nothing physical could have survived the extreme temperature and pressure of such an explosion, but at the instant of the reaction, I think that the transmitted matter had already been compressed and accelerated to a point where the created life form had evolved way beyond the human evolutionary scale. If that was the case, it is quite feasible that billions of years of evolution were compressed into a fraction of a second, producing an advanced form of life way beyond our comprehension, a life which now exists as highly intelligent, formless energy.'

'I can't believe I'm sat here listening to you,' Gil said. 'If this thing does exist, how does it stay alive?'

'It lives entirely on energy. Stray currents, caused by the unstable atmosphere, exist all over Bouron, and random discharges from the sub-drives have burnt tunnels beneath the base foundations. There's a lot of surplus energy in that area.'

'This is pure speculation. It appears to me that you've been taking Jenna too seriously. Does she really know what she's talking about, or is she suffering from space sickness? Did she really stand there and watch people go in and out of the machine? It's a wonderful story, but we need more than that.'

'I understand your disbelief,' Declan said. 'However, I'm convinced that Jenna is telling us exactly what she saw on Bouron.'

'Well I'm not. I've only just finished listening to your last conversation with Jenna. Explain to me then how and why the alien suddenly turned into this character Scyros Maddoc, and watch what you say, I have a short attention span when it comes to this kind of thing.'

'While it was inside the Phasewave unit, the alien could access all the billions of bits of information that pour through the Phasewave system – all the media and communication transmissions, data, television – you name it. We are talking here about intelligence much higher than our own, almost pure thought that, by monitoring what was going on inside the machine, could learn in a very short space of time practically everything there was to know about the human race. The alien must have noticed the effect Scyros Maddoc had on Carrick and decided to take advantage of it. If you consider my premise far-fetched, think how life evolved on Earth and look at the colossal difference between the first and final forms of life on that planet. The immediate priority of any intelligent life form would be survival, which would mean adapting to its surroundings. That's why it was observing the crew.'

'There's a big difference between an electric current and a human being,' Gil said.

'The difference is probably not as big as you think, but at some point the alien made a quantum leap in its development by deciding to adopt a physical form in the shape of a human being.'

'Why would it want to do that?' Gil asked.

'I'm guessing now, but all known life forms possess innate programmes to ensure the survival of their species by reproduction, and maybe the alien had worked out that it could expand its environment by assuming a physical form and reproducing as a human being. In order to obtain that physical form, the alien utilized its knowledge of the crew and any ideas it had picked up from the Phasewave transmissions. If the alien understood that Phasewaves were capable of creating life, it must also have known that the machines had even greater capabilities. That is why it drew upon its knowledge of the Phasewave workings to help it achieve its goal.'

'We still don't have proof. I can't use any of your theories to wind up this investigation.'

'Without giving too much away, do you have anything at all in the way of proof?'

'If I did, you wouldn't be here now.'

'There's the Phasewave on Bouron; surely the work on that is proof.'

Gil shook his head. 'All I can ascertain is that the tracker was destroyed and the Phasewave unit was damaged beyond repair.'

'How did the tracker come to be destroyed?'

'Let Jenna tell you,' Gil said.

Declan remained silent for a moment. 'What exactly do you want from me?'

'Facts, I want only facts. I will back you whichever way you decide to go on this case, but in less than two weeks' time I will be in a position where I will have to justify your verdict to several million people. If all I can produce are funny stories about an invisible alien, I'll be looking for early retirement, and my department will be history. However, if we can provide live footage of this thing, we'll be in the record books.'

'Did Jenna tell the other investigators about the alien?'

'I don't have access to the records of what she told the other investigators, but I understand that they gave up listening at the mention of an alien.'

'We must continue,' Declan said. 'Jenna has a lot more to tell us; she isn't aware that the alien was actually created by the Phasewave.'

'Keep working on her, but remember what I've just told you. By the way, there has been another development in this case; last night the Kalmis Phasewave base was broken into. No damage was done, but the security was breached.'

'Who would want to break into a Phasewave?'

'I've no idea, but you might mention it to Jenna at some time and watch her reaction. I'll talk to you again later today. In the meantime I suggest we both try to get some sleep.'

Gil turned off the monitor and stared wide-eyed at the blank screen. Had the recent conversation taken place in a dream, or had he actually sat there and listened to Declan go on about aliens for almost an hour? The thought defied him. It was unbelievable, totally unfuckingbelievable. He also wondered how long it would take Declan to work out who had broken into the Phasewave, but there was only so much information he was willing to share at that time. By now wide-awake, Gil turned out the lights and returned to bed, but, minutes later, cautiously crept back to his study and checked the monitor to see if there was a spot of light in the centre of its screen.

Declan stood on the apartment balcony and inhaled deeply. The sharp mountain air, chilled by the forming dawn, hurt as it penetrated his lungs. His mind was clear and alert following the first sound sleep he had experienced in days, even though it had only been for a few hours, and an itch on his damaged arm told him that his burns were starting to heal. In another three months, he could start thinking about surgery. Declan was idly admiring the view from the balcony when a movement caught his eye, and he briefly saw the figure of a man move across the rock-face and disappear into the stone. Convinced that he had been mistaken, Declan was observing the point where the man had vanished for further signs of movement when the mountain face suddenly sprang into a complex pattern of shapes. The whole side of the mountain consisted of apartments, and he surmised that the figure he had observed must have belonged to one of the support team. The site was an obvious choice for the monitoring centre: from there microwaves could easily pick up returns from his apartment walls. Declan waited a little longer, watching for signs of further movement, then gave up and went back inside to find Jenna preparing breakfast.

'Is anything happening out there? Jenna asked.

'I spotted one of the support team in an apartment opposite,' Declan replied. 'At least we know we are not alone out here.'

'I presume it was one of Gil's people.'

'We are the only ones in the resort,' Declan said. 'Which reminds me, I spoke to Gil early this morning, and he told me that the Kalmis Phasewave had been broken into.'

'Why would anyone break into a Phasewave base?' Jenna put down the tray she was carrying and stared at Declan.

'I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that question. Gil did not know who was responsible.'

Jenna had sat down and was staring at the top of the table in front of her.

Declan noticed the untouched meal. 'Aren't you eating?'

'Would you lie to me, Declan?'

'Why do you ask?'

'You talk as though breaking into a Phasewave is an everyday occurrence. In view of what we are currently involved in, don't you think it's more than a coincidence? I would have expected some reaction to that news.'

'I'm only repeating what Gil told me, and I'm not sure how it affects us.'

'In that case, I don't think Gil is being honest with you. If Gil can't tell you who broke into the machine, it doesn't say much about his interest in this case. He seems to be taking a very casual approach to the break-in.'

'I can't comment,' Declan said. 'Gil didn't volunteer any more information.'

'I think you know more than you're admitting. What else are you trying to hide from me?'

'I'm not trying to hide anything. If you're unhappy, I'll contact Gil as soon as I can and obtain an explanation for you.'

Jenna looked at Declan suspiciously, and he noticed that her face looked quite different when she was being serious. 'Okay,' she said. 'Why don't you go and do it now?'

Declan re-joined Jenna in the living room. 'Gil's not contactable at the moment, so I've left a message for him.' Outside, a layer of stratus cloud, the first visible sign of the approaching Vennican winter, linked the mountaintops.

'I'll be very interested to hear what he has to say,' Jenna said, 'but in the meantime, let's keep going. Where did I leave off?'

'You were about to introduce the Scyros Maddoc show,' Declan said.

****************

'You already know most of what went on, so I won't bore you with details,' Ellen said. 'When Scyros, or our version of Scyros, first appeared, he was friendly and humorous, and everyone liked him; even I have to admit that I took a shine to him. He told us that the Phasewave Company had given him a special big-boy toy: his very own Phasewave unit. He also told us that he had successfully carried out secret experiments involving the transfer of matter through the Intranet but had encountered a problem when his last transfer merged with the backlog and overloaded Unit Nine during its processing on Bouron. He sounded plausible enough until he started talking about humans travelling through the Intranet, at which point we began to lose interest in the idea. Making people laugh on a talk show was one thing, but teleportation was something else. Anyway, whatever our concerns, he obviously managed to change our minds, and we eventually fell for it. His reasoning went along the line that he himself had travelled outside the Intranet to an experimental site on Vennica, but with Unit Nine down, this was his first chance to modify a transmitter on another planet. He asked us if we wanted to take part in a revolutionary experiment, to be the first people to travel through space via Phasewave. Even now it sounds ridiculous, but I guess the answer was: yes, we did.'

'Were you ever suspicious?' Jenna asked.

'We were, but only for short periods. He had answers for everything, which with hindsight is not surprising considering that he was listening to all our conversations. We suggested that he visit us on Bouron, but he said that although the unit was too damaged to act as a receiver, it could still function as a transmitter. They say that if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is, but we had spent a long time on Bouron, and I think our only excuse for allowing it to get that far was that we were just plain bored out of our minds. Scyros got everyone fired up doing the modifications to the machine, after which it was just a matter of time and curiosity.'

'So what went wrong?'

'Come the big day, we all drew lots. Sewell was first down the line to Tracker South, followed by Rogan, and afterwards they appeared together on the monitor, talking to us from inside the tracker. I recall that Rogan was actually crying when he spoke to us, but we needed little convincing because we'd just seen our friends dematerialize and turn up somewhere else. You've been there – it's addictive. I can see Sewell too, looking like he'd won a year's pay and telling us to hurry and get our asses into the machine. We genuinely believed we'd swapped a year's boredom for a place in history.'

'Why did the alien bother with all that stuff about modifying the Phasewave? Why didn't it just go to Vennica?'

'For some reason, the alien desperately wanted to take on the physical form of a human being. It became apparent to us later on that when a human being dematerializes upon entering the Phasewave, it releases something called an imprint, and the alien needed that to recreate a human form. The modifications to the Phasewave were purely fabricated to draw us into the machine.' Ellen searched inside a drawer and found a bar of chocolate. She gratefully tore it open. 'I can't tell you how I have missed this,' she said, around a mouthful of chocolate. She finished the bar and wiped her mouth, before continuing her story. 'During that first transfer, the alien destroyed Rogan and Sewell as soon as they entered the machine. The faces that appeared on the monitor afterwards belonged to the alien. The alien could reproduce anything digitally and was capable of impersonating any human being – Scyros, Sewell, anyone.'

'Why did it destroy Rogan and Sewell?'

'I've no idea,' Ellen said. 'I got the impression that the alien wasn't interested in them. It seemed to be more interested in Carrick and me, especially me.'

'What was it like? What did it do once it had got you inside?'

Ellen's hands shook as she poured another glass of water. 'Being inside Phasewave was like being trapped in an endless dream. It was unpleasant but not threatening, more like being in a dream from which you can't wake up. The alien examined us for several days, during which time I never knew whether I was imagining it or not. Only after the alien had departed did Carrick and I become aware of each other and discover that we had become formless and trapped inside the Phasewave machine.'

'Did the alien communicate with you?'

'Yes. Before it left, it let us both know exactly what had happened and what it intended to do next. Then it disappeared, for which we were both eternally grateful.'

'You sound as if it did bad things to you,' Jenna said. 'Do you want to talk about them?'

'After what I went through, I no longer know the meaning of embarrassment. 'Imagine yourself being endlessly raped in an unknown place, being penetrated both mentally and physically and not knowing what is doing it to you or why.' Tears glistened in her eyes.

Jenna passed Ellen a tissue and listened to the description of an experience no human had ever previously endured.

'I have to share this with somebody,' Ellen said. 'The thing went into my mind. I had to lie there, helpless and incapable of movement, while it probed right through me, only each time it touched a point in my memory, it triggered an emotion and recalled an event. It dwelled upon the bad reactions mostly. Try to think of all the things you have ever done wrong, and then imagine reliving each one in every sordid detail, with all the associated feelings of guilt, shame and disgust.' Tears flowed down Ellen's face. 'To have no secrets, to be prevented from hiding the most insignificant thought, to have every rotten thing in your life revealed while you are incapable of doing anything about it. The alien didn't stop there because it had discovered sex and went into that deeper still; it overlooked nothing. We may not have had our bodies, but we had retained memories of our physical sensations. It explored practically every sexual experience I'd ever had and forced me to relive each one. Carrick didn't get the same treatment as I did. After it was all over, I felt like I'd been continuously turned inside out until there was nothing left of me.'

Ellen broke down and started to cry again, and Jenna comforted her until the sobbing died down.

'I need to finish,' Ellen said.

Jenna waited until Ellen had dried her eyes and asked how the alien had communicated with them.

'It didn't use words or anything like that,' Ellen said. 'Contact was made only through thoughts. We found thoughts surfacing in our minds that weren't our own, but it was always clear whose they were. Once it had us in its power, it never tried to hide anything, and after it found what it had been looking for, it took what it needed from us and transmitted itself to Vennica over the Intranet, where, for all I know, someone like me is walking the streets at this very moment. Or maybe the two of us are walking the streets; I don't know. We never knew why the alien was so keen on going to Vennica; all we knew was that we had fallen into its trap and were committed to remain inside the machine in a formless state until we could acquire the necessary imprints to regain our former physical states. Being formless did have a few advantages, so in the meantime, we learnt to navigate through the base communications network and to operate the monitors without switching them on. That was how we watched you searching for us.'

Jenna was horrified at the thought of someone spying on her in the security of her own cabin, doing private things. She felt the blood rise to her face, but Ellen appeared not to notice.

'It's hard for me to explain what state we were in,' Ellen continued. 'Sometimes I wonder whether we dreamt it all, but you saw us on that monitor screen, so you can vouch for the fact that it was real and that we were inside the machine.'

'How could you appear on the screen if you had no physical content?' Jenna asked.

'I'm not sure. One day we found ourselves inside a monitor circuit and accidentally triggered one of the electron guns. Can you imagine what we felt like when we saw ourselves reflected on the inside of a monitor screen, when, after believing that we'd been reduced to nothing, we discovered that there was still something left of our former selves? Although we could project ourselves onto the monitors, the one thing we never learnt to do was to replicate other people. Only the alien could do that, which is how it worked the Scyros Maddoc trick. Once we'd fully understood what the alien had done to us and realized that we were still alive, it didn't take much imagination to work out when the next opportunity to regain two imprints would present itself. That's when we worked out a plan to replace two crewmembers using a similar story to the one Scyros Maddoc used on us.'

'Why did Carrick treat me the way he did?'

'Carrick is claustrophobic and wanted to break out from the machine at the earliest opportunity. I didn't agree with him and said that we should make contact with you first and wait for help, but I was weak and gave in to him. I hold myself responsible for what he tried to do to you, and now I've come in his place to make amends for his behaviour.'

Ellen's story disturbed Jenna, yet she was fascinated at the same time. 'Where's Vance now?' she asked.

'He's in the machine with Carrick. I must return to Vennica as soon as possible in order to track down the alien and try to get our own imprints back.'

'Nothing is due to visit Bouron for five months,' Jenna said. 'Go back into the machine and release my crew chief. We'll make arrangements for you when the _Amar_ arrives on the supply run.'

'It's not that straightforward,' Ellen said. 'Vance can't come out of the machine yet because his life form isn't strong enough to take the strain of another transmission.'

'I thought you said that going through Phasewave cured all illnesses.'

'It does, but Vance didn't materialize and complete the transition. It's only when the body is fully regenerated that the transformation occurs. Vance is weaker than we thought and, at this moment, is better protected where he is.'

'I must talk to Vance right now,' Jenna demanded.

'That might not be possible. Vance is in a state of deep rest, but I can ask Carrick to bring him back to consciousness if you think it necessary. However, I must warn you that the shock to his energy field might prove fatal.'

'I still want to see him. Take me to him now.'

Ellen got to her feet. 'Very well, but if he comes to any harm, you'll have only yourself to blame.'

Carrick's face filled the monitor screen. 'Jenna, I must sincerely apologise for my behaviour, and I hope Ellen has explained the reasons for my terrible actions. I'm so sorry for everything. I swear it won't happen again.'

Jenna pointedly ignored him. 'Put Vance on the screen.'

Carrick's face fell. 'He's not a well person, Jenna. He's in a state of suspension, and I don't want to disturb him right now. I'll try to get him back if you insist, but I honestly think the shock might reduce his strength to the point where he may never be able to leave the machine.'

Jenna was in a quandary. Unless she actually set eyes on Vance and spoke to him, she would have no way of knowing if he was alive or dead. On the other hand, if she continued to press Carrick further, she could end up responsible for Vance's death. 'Okay,' she finally conceded. 'Don't disturb Vance, but I want to see him at the first opportunity.'

'That's a very sound decision if I may say so,' Carrick said. 'You've nothing to fear from me because knowing that Ellen is safe means I can take any amount of time in here without worrying about her. I trust Ellen with my life and know that one day she'll work out how to release me from this machine.'

Jenna watched Carrick fade from sight and then followed Ellen out of the room. She was confused. What was she going to do about Ellen? In fact, was there a need to do anything? Even if she did persuade Ellen to go back into the machine, Carrick could immediately change places, and she would be back where she started. Once again, Jenna decided that all she could do was wait and see what developed.

Outside her cabin, Ellen looked Jenna directly in the face. 'I know you think the worst of us, and I don't blame you because I would feel the same way in your position. During our time in the machine, the hardest thing for us was being aware that there was no one outside to help us, but now I'm here, I know can find a way to get Vance and Carrick back and return everything to normal. I've changed since I went into the Phasewave. I'm a different person now, and I want you to give me a chance to prove it.' She gave Jenna a brief hug and, without waiting for a response, entered her cabin.

Later that night, lying on her bed, Jenna tried to determine the truth, but it was as long as a piece of cord. Was Ellen revealing everything? Could she be trusted? Questions came, went, and returned, but their answers remained as elusive as ever. Hours went by, until Jenna, no longer able to reason, drifted into an exhausted sleep.

****************

Declan entered his bedroom, saw a flashing call light on his workstation and answered it. The face that greeted him on the screen was grim.

'Something's come up,' Gil said. 'I can't talk over an open line. Where's Jenna?'

'We're taking a break until after lunch. By the way, she questioned why you were showing no interest in the Phasewave break-in. Is there something I should know?'

'I was hoping for a different reaction. The answer to your question is yes, the break-in is directly linked to this case, but right now I don't want to go into it.'

Declan was bursting with questions but had to accept that Gil was unwilling to supply any more information.

'Keep listening to Jenna,' Gil said. 'She'll fill in the details, and then you'll understand why I can't tell you more. There's also been a change of plan that I need to discuss with you in person. I'll visit you as soon as soon as I can.'

After Gil had disconnected, Declan remained seated at the screen. Gil's reference to other developments and the Phasewave break-in gave him cause for concern. He racked his brains until he was certain he had not overlooked anything and then re-joined Jenna in the living room.

'Have you managed to contact Gil yet?' Jenna asked.

'No, he's not back,' Declan said, unwilling to break the flow of Jenna's story. He sat down opposite Jenna and continued their previous conversation. 'When we last stopped, you were wondering if you could trust Ellen. How did that work out?'

'It didn't,' Jenna said. 'Without Brant, I would have gone the same way as the others.'

'Brant? I thought you told me that Brant was killed by the Phasewave shortly after your arrival on Bouron.'

'I did,' Jenna said, 'and that's another reason why this is becoming hard for you to believe.'

A multitude of thoughts flooded simultaneously into Declan's brain. He sat and stared at Jenna while he tried to control his mental overload.

Jenna saw Declan's confusion. 'Didn't Gil tell you that we came back to Vennica together?'

Declan continued to stare blankly at Jenna. He was missing something vital. 'Gil only told me that the other engineer, the one who returned to Vennica with you, wasn't fit enough to give evidence. I wasn't aware that he was referring to Brant.'

'Well, you know now, and I will explain how he died and how he came back to life again. Brant had worked out that there was something wrong with the story Ellen and Carrick were pushing out and was about to deactivate the Phasewave when they triggered a discharge from the sub-drive and killed him. Although Ellen and Carrick destroyed Brant's body, he managed to enter the machine in an aphysical form, after which he ended up trapped inside with them. I can tell from the look on your face that you don't believe me, but listen to what I have to say because this was the turning point that saved my life.'

****************

#####  Chapter Eleven

Jenna woke with a start. She turned on the lights and searched her room for the disturbance that had interrupted her sleep. On her worktop, the communicator call light flashed urgently. Jenna stared at it, trying in her dazed state to work out why someone was calling her in the middle of the night. Ellen was the only other person on the base, so maybe something had happened to Vance. Jenna pulled on a robe, went to her workstation and switched on the communicator to find Brant looking at her. For a split second, she remained transfixed, and then leapt to her feet.

'There isn't time to explain,' Brant said. 'You are in grave danger.'

Jenna stood motionless, holding one hand over her mouth. She stared mutely at the screen.

Brant continued, 'Ellen is planning to put you through the Phasewave machine.'

'But, you ... you're ... you're dead,' Jenna stammered. 'I saw your body.'

'Listen carefully.' Brant bent closer to the screen. 'Ellen and Carrick deliberately electrocuted me to stop me disconnecting the work they had done on the Phasewave. I've no idea what happened next, but I suddenly found myself inside this machine with the two of them, only in a formless state. They are in a different part of the machine and don't know I'm here, but if they find me, they will certainly destroy me. I would have called you earlier, but until now I have been unable to transit the communication links without being discovered.'

'I can't believe it's you,' Jenna said, totally bewildered.

'Yes, it's me, only without a body. You're going to have to act fast; there'll be time for explanations later. I'm sorry to tell you this, but Vance is dead. Carrick took Vance's imprint as soon as he entered the machine and then destroyed him, which is why Ellen can't allow you to speak to him. Ellen and Carrick are life partners and will do anything to be physically together again. When Carrick went back into the machine, Ellen adopted the imprint and took Carrick's place outside. Now they both desperately need you to enter the machine to provide Carrick with the means to leave it. After that, they will shut down the machine and you will be no more.'

Jenna could not concentrate on what Brant was saying. 'How do I know you're telling the truth? I saw your dead body. Somebody could be impersonating you. You could be Carrick.'

'I can prove conclusively that I am Brant. Right now Ellen is in Unit Nine talking to Carrick. Go and see for yourself. I will wait for you.'

Jenna pulled on some clothes and made her way to the Phasewave, where she cautiously peered through the open door. The interior lights were on, and she observed Ellen sitting before the monitor, talking to Carrick in a hushed voice. Brant was right; therefore, he must be alive! Jenna felt a surge of elation and ran back to her cabin. Brant was back from the dead, and she could not wait to see him again.

'Ellen has limited power over you,' Brant continued. 'If she causes you serious physical harm, your body will not be able to yield a usable imprint. She is deceitful and will take advantage of your better nature, so at all times you need to remember that she is totally committed to Carrick's release. You are the only witness to everything they have done, and they will want you out of the way as soon as you cease to be of use to them. Although Ellen cannot cause you physical harm, she might attempt to drug or restrain you. If that happens, it will all be over, and I will never see you again. Only the thought that one day I might be with you again has kept me sane. You'll never know how much I've missed you.'

'But what can I do?' Jenna asked.

'You must think of a way to outwit Ellen. Somehow, she must be made to re-enter the Phasewave, and then I will adopt her imprint to become physical again.'

'All I have is a thermic lance.'

'It's a start, but always remember that you mustn't physically harm her; I need her imprint as much as she needs yours. I'll try to help you as much as I can. In my cabin is a case of impulse detonators. They aren't very powerful, and I haven't yet worked out how they could be useful to you. They do, however, produce a tremendous reaction if they are set off close to a power source, so be careful if you decide to use them. Make sure that you ....'

Something diverted Brant's attention. 'I must go now. Carrick has finished talking to Ellen, and I must hide before he finds me. I will contact you whenever I can.'

Once she was on her own again, Jenna's elation turned to despair. She did not have the faintest idea what to do. Was she certain that she had been talking to Brant? She had seen Brant's charred remains with her own eyes, so how could he still be alive? According to Ellen, only the alien could impersonate others, so if it had not been Brant on the screen, it must have been the alien. The alien had left long ago, so she could only have been talking to Brant.

Jenna started to shiver and lay down and gathered the bed covers over her. The appearance of Brant on the scene meant that she could never trust Ellen again, not if she wanted to stay alive and help him. Ellen, however, had not caused any problems since her appearance, and she had explained about Carrick, so was she as bad as Brant was making out? Brant, however, had searched for the missing crew and had lost his life trying to protect her. She owed Brant everything and Ellen nothing, and now she had to help him escape from the machine. Jenna's thoughts continued to spiral in endless circles until she fell into a troubled sleep, at some point during which she dreamt that she watched a giant moon rising over the mountains of Vennica.

****************

A moving light bisected the face of the moon and traced a line across the darkening sky. Declan watched the cruiser descend below the level of the mountaintops and commence its approach to the resort, relieved that Gil had finally arrived. The cruiser slowly let down and whined to a halt on the hardstanding below the balcony.

'Who's that?' Jenna asked.

'It must be Gil. I'm going down to meet him.' Declan put on a jacket and made his way outside. As he reached the cruiser, its door opened and Slater and Jarvine climbed out.

'Surprise!' Jarvine said.

'What are you doing here?' Declan demanded. 'Where's Gil?'

Slater thrust a package into Declan's hands. 'This isn't a social call. Read that, and you'd better watch your manners from now on.'

The two men slowly circled Declan while he rapidly leafed through the bundle of documents under the glow of the cruiser's lights. His heart sank when he realized what they were.

'So Gil's been thrown off the case. Who'd have thought it?' Slater stood unnecessarily close to Declan and retrieved the documents. 'The Security Service has taken over, and now we're going to kick some sense into this investigation.'

'Where's the surveillance?' Jarvine asked.

Declan was desperately trying to work out the implications of the new arrangements and did not answer.

Slater looked up at the light in the apartment window above. 'It's a pity to have to break up your holiday, but you need to stay somewhere we can keep an eye on you, somewhere a bit more, shall we say, secure.'

Jarvine checked the buildings on either side. 'It looks like there's nobody here.'

'I haven't finished,' Declan said.

Slater seized Declan by the arm. 'You're not listening, Declan. Take it from me – you are now officially finished.'

Declan twisted his arm free. 'You can't do this; I have to speak to Gil.'

Slater pushed his face close to Declan's and held him in a rough grip. 'Gil's no longer in a position to protect you. Now, where's the surveillance team hiding?'

'What's it got to do with you?'

'Can't you read? This is my case. Now, do you want your arm broken or are you going to cooperate?' He tightened his grip on Declan's injured arm until the pain became unbearable.

'Over there.' Declan pointed with his free arm. 'They're in the cliff apartments.'

Jarvine and Slater stared at the cliff face intently.

'Here's what I want you to do, Mr Spaceman,' Slater said. 'Go over to the surveillance team and tell them that they now report to me. Tell them to keep on doing whatever they're playing at until I tell them to stop.' He released his grip on Declan's arm. 'I'm going to give you one last chance. You have two more days, after which Jenna's going through the mill unless she comes up with the goods. So it's up to you now.'

'Yeah, she'll never be the same again,' Jarvine added. 'Still, after listening to the crap she's come out with so far, that's got to be an improvement.'

'And when we return,' Slater added, 'if we hear funny stories about people who disappear into machines and talk to aliens, you can say goodbye to your friend Jenna for good.'

'Stick around,' Jarvine said, and both men climbed back inside the cruiser.

The cruiser's lights disappeared into the darkness, but Declan remained standing outside, wondering why Slater was so interested in the location of the surveillance team. By the time he made his way back to the apartment, he had a growing concern about the way events were developing.

Jenna was waiting for him. 'Who are those people? What did they want?'

Declan did not know what to say without upsetting Jenna. 'That was Slater and Jarvine in the cruiser,' he said. 'Gil's been taken off the case.'

'I'm not with you,' Jenna said. 'What have they got to do with us?'

'Slater and Jarvine used to work for the Justice Department, and they are now employed by the Security Service, which apparently has taken over the case. They have given is two more days before they take us away.'

Jenna sank into a chair, looking as if she had suddenly shrunk. 'We've only got two days left. That means all we've just been through has been for nothing.'

'Something's changed,' Declan said. 'I haven't yet worked out what it might be, but I think we both could be in danger.'

'This is all due to me, and I've dragged you down with me,' Jenna said. 'I'm going to change my story. I'll make up another one, anything they want to hear. I'm through.'

'I don't think it will be that straightforward,' Declan said. 'The Security Service's boast is that it resolves every case it accepts and employs dubious practices to clear its books. It is going to try to blame you for everything that has happened; your only chance is to stick to your original story and tell the truth.'

Jenna stood up and clutched her arms. 'I can't think straight any more. I've lost touch with reality; this is all part of a terrible dream.' Jenna burst into tears. 'I'm losing my mind, Declan. Help me, please.'

Declan took Jenna and held her tightly to him, as if he could transfer the strength of his grip to quench the shaking of her body. Never before in his life had he felt so utterly inadequate. A defenceless woman had turned to him for help, and he was again demonstrating what he had always known, that he was emotionally inert and incapable of doing anything to assist anyone. Even worse, he could not find a single word of comfort to offer her. Declan continued to hold Jenna in an awkward, frigid embrace until the shaking died down. Then she wordlessly disengaged herself and walked away, leaving him alone with his misery.

Unwilling to face Jenna again, Declan left the apartment and walked in the night air outside the building, trying to organise his thoughts. It was while he crossed the hardstanding, where less than an hour before he had argued with Slater and Jarvine, that Declan saw the dark outline of the mountain loom out of the night beyond the parking area and decided to pay the surveillance team an overdue visit. He turned and re-entered the apartment block and then made his way through the building to a side door from where it was only a stone's throw to the apartments opposite. Night-vision cameras would be covering the area, he reasoned, but they would probably not be monitored, especially if the team had no reason to think that he was about to leave the building. Crouching as low as he could, Declan slowly crossed an open area until he reached the rocky wall opposite. Once under the protective shadow of the mountain, he carefully felt his way along the rock face until it divided into a natural fissure where the ground levelled into a smooth floor. An overhead light automatically illuminated, and Declan found himself standing inside an entrance hall leading to the apartments above. Positioned below a rack of message receptacles, a chart on the wall displayed the internal layout of the complex, and after locating the probable whereabouts of the surveillance team, Declan set off into the interior of the mountain, driven by the determination to break away from his former passive role in what had become a dangerous and rapidly escalating situation.

Milo and Glen sat at a monitor and watched Declan creep across to their apartment.

'He actually thinks he's invisible,' Glen said. 'Are you sure this guy really is an investigator?'

'That was some time ago,' Milo said, 'but he definitely looks like a man on a mission. I wonder if Slater's visit has prompted this. Gil is still not responding to my calls, although I've tried to contact him several times. Something has happened, and hopefully Declan will be able to shed some light on it. He obviously wants to meet us, so let's make him welcome. I'll tidy up before he arrives.'

'Would you mind if I go over and talk to Jenna while Declan's not there?' Glen asked.

'No problem. I haven't heard anything yet that will help Gil with this case. See if you can get Jenna to change direction, anything you can.'

Milo had just finished clearing the lounge when a footstep sounded outside the apartment door. Then silence. Glen and Milo stood by the door and looked at each other. Glen tried not to laugh. 'Maybe he's shy,' she whispered. Milo rolled his eyes back and then yanked the door wide open to reveal the figure of a tall, angular man, frozen in surprise.

'We've been expecting you,' Milo said. 'Please come inside.' He gestured Declan into the apartment.

Declan walked hesitantly into the room and nervously introduced himself. They all formally and awkwardly shook hands. Declan observed the banks of recording equipment and the lightproof shutters that blanked out the windows.

'I'll leave you two guys to talk.' Glen put on her jacket. 'I won't be long.'

Milo waited until Glen had left the room. 'Where do you want to start?'

'Did you follow my conversation with Slater earlier today?'

'We've got your meeting on video, but the sound was distorted by the cruiser's internal power unit,' Milo said. 'However, I've come across Slater before and found him to be a particularly nasty piece of work.'

'He's certainly no friend of mine,' Declan said. 'He came to tell us that Gil is now off the case. The Security Service has taken over, and you are to continue the surveillance until he tells you to stop.'

Milo remained silent while he considered the new information. 'I wonder what caused Gil to be taken out of the loop,' he eventually commented.

'I was hoping that you might be able to provide me with more information,' Declan said. 'Slater has given us two days, and then we're being moved back to Kalmis.'

'That doesn't explain why Gil hasn't been answering my calls but, knowing Slater, I think he must have had an ulterior motive for coming all this way. He wouldn't have wasted his time coming here just to tell you that.'

'He showed me the warrants and told me to contact you and let you know that you now report to him. That's all.'

'I'm less than impressed with that arrangement. How do you feel about all this?'

'I think we are at risk,' Declan replied, 'and I don't know what to do about it.'

'I wish I could help you. Without any form of transport, we don't have much choice; all we can do is sit tight and wait it out. You can both stay over here with us tonight if you want.'

'Thanks for the offer, but this could be our last chance to work something out. I think it would be better if we continued as we are.'

'Well, if you change your mind, come on over; at least we can offer you some first-hand surveillance.'

Jenna opened her apartment door and took a step backwards in surprise when she found herself facing a total stranger.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you,' Glen said. 'I'm Glen, from across the road.'

'I was expecting Declan. Where is he?'

'He's paying us a friendly visit, and he and Milo, my boss, are telling each other war stories. May I come in?'

Jenna held the door open and let Glen inside.

'This is cosy,' Glen said, looking at the furnishings. 'We're cave dwellers at the moment.'

'Do you know why Slater visited us?' Jenna asked.

'I don't,' Glen replied, 'and I presume Declan is asking Milo the same question. We haven't been able to contact anyone since we arrived; we probably know less than you do.'

'Slater has given us two more days, and then we're being taken back to Kalmis.'

'Which means that we haven't got much time left,' Glen said. 'By the way, I have been assigned as your Support Officer.'

'What does that mean?'

'It means I will be with you for the proceedings after you leave here. We'll talk about it later. Look, I know that I'm not supposed to be here, but this may be our only chance to be alone together. Is there anything you want to tell me?'

'You mean a girl-to-girl thing?'

'Sometimes it's nice to talk to someone with a sympathetic understanding. I've been involved with dozens of these cases, and I know exactly how it works. I can help you out of this mess. If you agree, I can arrange to take over from Declan.'

Jenna did not reply. She stared coldly at Glen.

'Don't let this become personal,' Glen said. 'I'm on your side, and I genuinely want to help. Is there anything I can do or say to make you change your mind?'

'You think I'm making all this up, don't you?'

'I'll be honest with you: I think you are withholding information. I'm now offering you a chance to come clean before it's too late.'

'You were right – you shouldn't be here.' Jenna walked over to the door and held it open. 'Now go.'

Glen stopped at the door and turned to face Jenna. 'I'm disappointed in you, but I'm here for the next two days if you need me. However, if you don't take up my offer, I can assure you that the next time we meet you will definitely need me. Think it over.'

Declan let himself out of the mountain apartments and made his way back to his own accommodation to re-join Jenna. The certainty that they now only had a limited time left together was a burden that lay heavily on his mind, exacerbated by the knowledge that he was powerless to do anything about it. All he could do was hope that something would turn up before Slater acted.

'What have you been doing?' Jenna asked, after Declan arrived. 'I've been waiting for you.'

'Slater asked me to tell the surveillance team that Gil is off the case. I found the surveillance centre and talked to a man called Milo who is running it.'

'I know. His woman came here.'

'How did you get on with Glen?'

'She's full of herself. She tried to trick me into saying something, but I wasn't falling for that.'

'She was probably only trying to help. They didn't know Gil had been replaced.'

'That's a bad sign, isn't it?' Jenna said.

'We don't know that. Let's stay positive; we've still got some time left.'

'Is there any point in continuing? There's not much we can achieve now, is there?'

Declan had no answer to Jenna's questions. She left the room and returned with a bottle of alcohol and two glasses.

'If this is the end, I'm not going to waste our time. Here, try this.' Jenna filled a glass and handed it to Declan.

'I'm sorry, but I don't drink alcohol,' he said.

'Not even for me!' Jenna exclaimed in exasperation. 'In two days' time, I'm going away for good, and you won't even join me for a farewell drink. I may as well ask my stuck-up Support Officer over. Thanks for nothing, Declan. I'm really going to miss your truly excellent company. If that's what you want, I'll go next door and spend the night on my own.'

'Of course I'll join you,' Declan said. 'Please accept my apologies; I'm afraid I'm no company at all.'

Jenna was surprised. 'So you are human after all, Declan. There's hope for you yet. Cheers.'

Declan picked up a glass and swallowed some of the bitter liquid, but it did nothing to lighten his mood.

'I guess I never really expected to go free.' Jenna topped up their glasses. 'I can't do this any longer; I'm not going to say another word about Phasewave or Bouron or that alien stuff.'

'Tell the truth; stick with what you told me.'

Jenna laughed quietly. 'What? You are the last call, and even you don't believe me.'

'I do. I genuinely believe you,' Declan said, but he knew that Jenna was right: no one was going to take her seriously after the number of interrogations she had undertaken. Lack of evidence rendered worthless everything she had said, and evidence was proving to be a particularly elusive element in the investigation.

Jenna refilled her glass. A blush of pink had brought colour to her cheeks, and pointed reflections sparkled in her eyes. Declan had never seen Jenna look as beautiful as she did at that moment, and his heart went out to her.

Suddenly, Jenna started to weep as the reality of what was about to happen hit her – not the violent, racking sobs of grief but the silent tears of bitter despair. Declan held her close to him.

'Why is this happening to me?' Jenna sobbed. 'I never did anything wrong. Help me, Declan.'

A lump had become stuck in Declan's throat. He was unable to speak and could only contain her thin frame tightly, rocking back and forth in his grief until Jenna's hands reached up and cupped the sides of his face. He bent forward and tasted salt tears on his lips.

'I'm frightened, Declan. Don't leave me; tell me you won't leave me.' Her fingers traced a pattern across the skin of his face.

'I promise that I won't leave you,' he managed to whisper, although he knew it was a false promise and soon he would never see her again. Tears flowed down his face, and Jenna softly lifted them with her fingers.

'You're crying. Are you crying for me? That's the nicest thing you've ever done.'

Declan found his lips brushing Jenna's eyelashes and down her face to her mouth. Then, to his horror, he became physically aroused. He tried to break his grip, but Jenna's hands had become tangled together at the back of his neck, gluing their faces together, and they remained clinging to each other until, still tightly entwined, they slowly toppled over and collapsed onto the carpet. A distant voice shouted, "Stop!", but Declan's instincts had discovered a purpose of their own, and the touch and taste of a female body served only to fuel their demands.

Declan had never before experienced the sensation of physical contact with a woman, and he quickly discovered that many aspects of his first sexual encounter were not what he expected. It was as though he had suddenly become two individual beings: one a detached observer recording events as they unfolded, the other an uncontrollable, lusting animal satisfying its needs. To Declan's surprise, Jenna's body was not as uniformly soft and smooth as he had imagined a woman's body to be; different skin textures separated adjacent areas of mobile flesh and adjoining planes of her body provided an unpredictable sensation of change to his touch. Something else he had not envisaged was the ease and speed with which they both managed to shed their garments while remaining locked in an embrace, Jenna's nimble fingers proving particularly adept at dealing with normally stubborn fasteners.

Then Jenna's hot body was beneath him, and her breasts became crushed against his chest. The clamorous voices of objection receded into the distance as he gently allowed his weight to rest on her, fearful that he would do her harm. Jenna linked her arms and legs together behind his back, and an enormous, sweet pain swelled inside him. A brilliant, moving mosaic of colour appeared before his eyes, flaring and fading to the rhythm of their coordinated movements. Its intensity increased until Declan could no longer watch, and he cried out in pain as the image disintegrated into a cascade of coloured shards that spiked the backs of his eyes before dwindling away to nothing.

Declan could not have been asleep for more than a few moments. He felt Jenna's hair in his face and immediately recalled what had taken place. The enormity of what he had done stiffened his body, and he lay paralysed, wishing himself away while at the same time being acutely aware of the length of Jenna's body beneath him. Jenna stirred, opened her eyes and looked up at him. Acutely embarrassed by the aftermath of his emotional display, Declan pulled away and sat on the floor, trying to hide his nakedness.

Something Jenna saw in Declan's expression frightened her. 'What is it?'

'I'm so sorry.' Declan looked away. A deep silence developed and remained unbroken until Jenna silently got to her feet and walked out of the room, leaving Declan alone to bear his crushing burden of guilt. What had he done? What madness had overtaken him and allowed it to happen? His job was to protect Jenna, and instead he had abused her. It was the end of him. How could he ever expect to regain her trust?

When Jenna returned, she had already dressed. She handed Declan a robe.

'If you don't mind me saying,' she said quietly. 'I may not be very experienced at this kind of thing, but I expected a better reaction than that.'

Declan still could not meet her gaze. 'I came here to help you; I shouldn't have done it.'

Jenna reached out and turned Declan's head until their faces were practically touching. 'It takes two, you know. It wasn't what you would describe as a unilateral decision; you can't take all the credit.' Her fingers lingered over the scars on Declan's face and neck until he slowly yielded and met her gaze. Jenna brushed her lips across his. 'Snap out of this guilt thing, Declan. Admit for once that you're a human being. We all are.'

Declan's spirits lifted, but the guilt returned in force, making him feel sick with shame. 'I took advantage of you.'

'I can't work you out, Declan. Where you are concerned, nothing is ever right; you are never able to let go and enjoy yourself. You have to ponder, analyse, and explain everything that happens to you. I give you unconditional sex, and even that isn't good enough. It's only sex, Declan. Trying to justify it won't change anything. Occasionally, lie back and let go. You're a sad, lonely man. Get a life.'

Declan could accept the truth no longer. He climbed to his feet, made his way downstairs, and left the apartment, numb with dejection and unmindful of the biting cold that cut through his robe. As he walked, sharp stones tore at the soles of his bare feet, and he cried, the naked cry from the heart that comes when a person finds that all the things he holds of value are worthless, and a sense of total, abject failure replaces optimism and certainty. He wandered aimlessly in the dark, unseeing and uncaring, until, at the lowest point in his life, he found himself alone on a stone bench where he sat and closed his mind to the world and allowed the cold of the night to penetrate his body. Declan had failed; he was no more; he was finished.

#####  Chapter Twelve

At first, Declan did not notice the soft touch of a hand against his back. He sat with bowed head, waiting for his life to end, willing the elements to erase all trace of what he had done. The hand continued to creep over his shoulder and down his arm until its slender fingers interlocked with his, and he felt Jenna lean against him.

'Come back,' she whispered.

Declan did not respond. Jenna pulled him to face her and wiped the tear streaks from his cheeks. 'I had no right to be so hard on you. I'm sorry.'

'It was true.'

'Only in your eyes are things all right or all wrong. I'm the one in trouble, not you. Come with me before you freeze to death.'

'I've let you down.'

'None of this is your fault,' Jenna said. 'You are the first person who has actually listened to what I've been saying, and you have been kinder to me than you needed to have been. The standards you set for yourself are unattainable; you have to learn to accept that you are human like everyone else. Come back to the apartment. Please.'

Declan's resolve had withered, and he allowed Jenna to help him to his feet and lead him through the darkness. Deep inside, he felt as if something had snapped under an enormous strain; all he was certain of was that within a short space of time his life had irreversibly changed. Somehow, he had become a different person.

Upon returning to the apartment, Jenna ran a shower, removed Declan's robe and sat him under the spray of hot water, soaping him over and sponging his body while he allowed her to wash away his cares and return the feeling to his chilled flesh.

'Don't you find me hideous?' he asked.

Jenna fingered the puckered scars down Declan's side. 'I've seen worse. You can't expect to go through life without taking a beating every now and again. Look at me; this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I escaped from Bouron.' She turned off the water and gently towelled Declan dry.

Declan wrapped himself in the towel. 'You're sopping wet,' he observed.

'It was all in a good cause,' Jenna replied. She looked down at her soaked clothes, then slipped them off and stood naked before him. Declan looked away, embarrassed.

'I've nothing to hide. Look at me.' She waited until Declan's gaze was upon her again, then reached out and pulled the towel from his waist.

'You won't need this tonight,' she said, dropping it on the floor. Then she stood on her toes and kissed Declan lightly on the lips before turning and walking into her bedroom, leaving Declan staring at the door she had left open behind her.

Later that night, Declan lay on his back, looking up at the bedroom ceiling. Upon reflection, he decided that he must have died and been reborn in a state that he could not even begin to comprehend. His body felt rejuvenated and his mind cleansed; a pinnacle had replaced the abyss. Never before in his life had he imagined that a human being could feel so satisfied, so complete. It was like living in a time warp, he thought. There was no past or future, only a surreal present, far removed from the real world outside.

Jenna stirred and pulled herself closer for warmth, and her breath was soft against Declan's skin. He slid down the bed and her body moulded to the contours of his. In his imagination, the two of them were sailing on a boat, wrapped inside a cocoon, floating wherever the wind took them, allowing the moving sea to steer them away from the storms on the horizon.

'What are you thinking?' Jenna said drowsily.

'I was thinking that you've taught me the meaning of happiness.'

'That's a nice thought. I've never understood why you don't have any friends or partners. I mean, you're not repulsive or anything.'

'I'm no good with people. I don't know how to react, so I'm always saying or doing the wrong things.'

'Well, you learnt quickly enough tonight.' Jenna propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. 'Listen to me for once. Obey your instincts and don't try to analyse everything. For once, just go with the flow.'

'You sound as if you've got a probe inside my head.' Declan smiled. His whole life had turned upside down. Lying with Jenna and discussing his innermost thoughts felt like the most natural thing in the world, yet, at the same time, the whole experience was profoundly exciting. 'The end of our dreams is the end of our lives,' he said to himself.

'What's that?' Jenna asked.

'Poetry, I believe. It just sprang to mind.'

'That's interesting. Do you know any more?'

'I can't remember.' Bits and pieces of ancient memory floated to the surface of Declan's mind. 'The eyes are the mirrors of life. Yes, it's coming back. The poem is about restless souls looking out through the mirrors of their eyes, but because others cannot see inside, they are doomed to spend their lives in hiding. They only really come to life in their dreams, and when their dreams stop there is no longer anything to live for.'

'That's very profound. It could have been written for you.'

'Perhaps that's what made me think of it.'

'You're so different now,' Jenna said. 'I remember when Gil brought you into that headquarters place. You were weird. I nearly died when I first saw you.'

'That seems a long time ago. I'm glad we did meet. I feel as if I've lived through your experiences on Bouron with you. You've definitely done something to me; you've taken the mirrors from my eyes.'

Jenna lay down and snuggled closer. 'At least all that stuff is behind me now; it's as if I imagined it all. I feel like I've just recovered from an illness. Do you think I was sick?'

'No, you didn't imagine it. Everything you told me actually took place.'

'No one will believe me without proof.'

'You must believe in yourself.' Declan then recalled something he had forgotten. 'Do you remember Gil telling me that the Kalmis Phasewave had been broken into? He wouldn't say any more, but could Brant have done it?'

'Nobody would break into a Phasewave base without good cause. It probably was Brant.'

The nagging doubt that had been gnawing at Declan's subconscious suddenly surfaced. His pulse quickened. 'Where is Brant now?'

'How should I know?' Jenna saw the questioning look on Declan's face. 'Hasn't anyone told you that Brant escaped from prison?'

'Escaped? Was Brant in prison? Prisons are escape-proof. How did he manage to get past the security?'

'Apparently, prisons aren't as secure as they are supposed to be. I understand that one day Brant simply walked out of prison and was never seen again.'

The doubt continued to tighten its hold on Declan's attention. He was still overlooking something. What was it? How had Brant become involved?

'So it must have been Brant who broke into the Phasewave, mustn't it?' Jenna said.

'I don't think it could have been anyone else, although I can't work out how he managed to do it. Perhaps he picked up that kind of knowledge while he was trapped inside the Phasewave.' As soon as Declan uttered the words, the intricate tangle of events Jenna had described suddenly opened up and became clear to him.

Jenna's breathing gradually subsided into a slow rhythm, but Declan remained wide-awake. His mind was clear and lucid, and he experienced the intense satisfaction that followed such a revelation, something he had not experienced since Scion3. He slowly went through each stage of his deliberations, until he became convinced that he was not travelling along a sterile path. At last, Declan was able to relax. He lay motionless and let his thoughts absorb him until he drifted into a restful sleep, uninterrupted by dreams for the first time in years.

The sun shone through a translucent wave of flowing mist, and a cool dampness penetrated the air, but Declan had not been outside long enough to feel its effects as he stood, naked, on the balcony watching the sky slowly churn into different shapes. Other concerns occupied his attention. Two significant events had combined to divert the direction of his life: one was his new relationship with Jenna and with it the exciting potential of experiences to come, the other was the solution of the most complex puzzle he had ever encountered. He reflected upon each in turn and found a contentment that surpassed anything he had previously experienced. Life was good. He stretched towards the sky and became aware that he was not alone; Jenna was leaning against the open door, watching him. She smiled a greeting and joined him at the rail, seemingly oblivious to his uncovered body.

'There's something different about you this morning,' she said.

'Maybe it's because I'm not wearing those old clothes of mine.'

Jenna stood back and appraised Declan with a practiced eye. 'I know what it is – you aren't hanging your head anymore.'

As soon as Declan heard Jenna's words, he knew what she meant. Jenna was right; he felt taller and no longer looked down at the ground.

'Any more of that and soon I won't be able to reach you.' Jenna inspected the scar tissue that ran down Declan's side. 'This is healing already.'

When Declan found that his body no longer embarrassed him, he knew he was a changed person. It was another first. 'I need to talk to you about last night.'

Jenna reached up and held a finger against his lips. 'This is my last day, and I'm not going to take anything seriously. I don't want it to be spoilt in any way.'

'In that case, you call the tune. Tell me what you would like to do.'

'We're going to grab some food and go for a walk in the mountains. For once, we're going to do something different.'

Declan was doubtful. 'I'm not sure we're allowed outside the complex.'

'Stop listening to that old voice of authority. We can do anything we want. Who's going to stop us?'

'You're right, of course, but it feels peculiar being able to act spontaneously.'

'Well, why don't you spontaneously get dressed and help me find something to eat? You can examine your conscience while we walk.'

Declan laughed, finding his changed circumstances hard to adjust to. 'We can do what we want, and for once in my life, I don't give a damn about anyone else's opinion.'

'You stick close to me,' Jenna said. 'I've had lots of practice at getting people into trouble.'

Declan stood on the mountaintop while he recovered his breath and looked down to where the mountains melted into a bank of mist some ten kilometres away. Next to him, Jenna perched precariously on the edge of a ridge. Nothing stirred; the two of them could have been the only living people in the world. A weak sun had pushed the mist down to the plains below, and shafts of white light traced horizontal paths across the sky, yielding no warmth. Higher still, the moon maintained its commanding position, threatening the sun with its vast bulk.

Jenna dropped the bag she was carrying and followed Declan's upward gaze. 'Have you ever wondered why a moon that size doesn't come crashing down on top of us?' she innocently asked.

'Actually, I can explain,' Declan said. 'The moon is hollow, so its density is ... why are you smiling?'

'You would know the answer to that, wouldn't you?' Jenna burst out laughing. 'Only you would try to answer such a silly question.'

Understanding slowly dawned. 'You mean it was a joke?'

'Declan, I swear that you are on the way to recovery; you may have just taken the first step to removing that humour bypass.' Jenna unpacked lunch, and they sat next to each other and ate in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Eventually, Declan spoke. 'You may well laugh, but for years there have been reports, theories and sightings that the shell of the Vennican moon was about to break up and fall onto Vennica. It became a staple media story for when there was nothing else to report.'

'I'm not sure I would be laughing if I heard that. It's a big chunk of rock to try to avoid, and hopefully I won't be here if it does go.'

The Vennican gravity was taking its toll on Declan, and the exertion of climbing had left the muscles in his legs aching. He got to his feet, walked over to a small outcrop, and looked out over the view.

'At least we don't have to talk about Phasewave anymore,' Jenna said, joining him on the outcrop. 'That's a relief.'

'You can't come this far and not finish. I have to hear the end.'

'There's no point. Have you worked it out yet?'

'I think so, but I need time to put everything into perspective.'

'Just tell me,' Jenna said. 'You owe me that much. Explain it to me; was I imagining it?'

'You have seen things outside the realms of human experience, and I think that you have been exceptionally ....'

'Don't patronise me! You keep telling me that you believe what I say, but you can't tell me what I need to know. Why is that such a problem for you?'

'I'm not yet ready. First finish your story and then I'll tell you everything.'

'That's all behind me. You already know the answers.'

'You've humoured me before; please do so again. I'd like to hear it in your own words.'

Jenna shrugged. 'Okay, if it makes you happy. But I can't see what it's going to achieve.'

****************

Jenna woke to the smell of cooking and found Ellen in the galley making breakfast.

'Care to join me?' Ellen said cheerfully. 'I've been looking forward to this for a long time.'

The sight and smell of food tempted Jenna, but Brant's warnings still rang in her ears. 'I think I'll give it a miss if you don't mind.'

'Well, there's plenty of coffee. Help yourself.'

'Thanks, but today I'm going to try something different.' Jenna casually opened the cold store, selected a sealed fruit drink from the bottom of the pack and joined Ellen at the table.

Ellen concentrated on her breakfast, eating as if she had not seen food for weeks, which, Jenna observed, was factually correct.

'How are you feeling this morning?' Jenna asked.

'Last night I slept like a stone, and today I feel like a new woman. I've been racking my brains, but I still can't see a way forward. At some point, we will have to inform the next crew what's gone on, and I've no idea how they'll react. What if they refuse to stay here?'

'I wouldn't worry too much about that; we knew you were missing, and we elected to stay.'

'I can't stop thinking about it. How much can we tell them? All we have to show are a couple of modified units, one of which contains Carrick.'

'And Vance,' Jenna added.

A look of consternation flitted across Ellen's face. 'Of course, I was forgetting Vance. I think we'd better be careful what we tell the next crew about Unit Nine; we don't want some government department taking the Phasewave away from us, because without it we'll never get the men back.'

'It'll be months before the supply ship arrives, and to fetch a replacement crew will take even longer. We've got plenty of time to go through our options.'

'You're right,' Ellen agreed. 'We need to give this matter due consideration before we commit ourselves to a course of action.'

Jenna drank her juice and watched Ellen finish her meal. The suspicion that Ellen was not telling the truth continued to nag her.

Ellen wiped her mouth with a napkin. 'That was marvellous; I really missed solid food.' She got up to leave. 'I have to go and talk to Carrick now to keep his spirits up.'

'I'll come with you,' Jenna said, and again detected a change in Ellen's countenance. 'I want to make sure Vance is all right.'

'Okay. Let's go together, but first there are a few things I must do.'

'Call me when you're ready.' After Ellen had left, Jenna looked at the mess in the galley and automatically started to clear it away. Then she dropped everything back onto the table, ashamed of herself. What was she thinking? Ellen was preparing to sacrifice her in order to save her worthless partner while Jenna cleaned the galley! It was time to come to terms with the situation. If she ever wanted to see Brant again, she could never allow Ellen an opportunity to get the better of her.

Jenna returned to her cabin, flushed with excitement at the thought of talking to Brant again. The monitor light was flashing, so she pressed the call return and, to her horror, found herself confronted by Carrick's menacing face on the screen.

'We meet again,' Carrick said. 'Let's cut the crap. I've captured Brant, and he's told me about the warnings he gave you. I'll make a deal: swap places with me and he won't come to any harm. Then the two of you can stay together inside the machine until I can arrange to get you out.'

Jenna backed away from the monitor, as if Carrick was capable of causing her physical harm. 'Why don't you and Ellen stay inside the machine?' she said, in a voice pitched high by nervousness. 'You got yourselves into this mess; it's nothing to do with us.'

'Forget it. If I'm still inside this thing in one hour's time, I'm going to torture Brant until there's nothing left of him, and I'm going to record it to make sure that every time you go near a monitor you'll see him die, and all night long you'll hear him screaming and begging for mercy. You're his last chance, so it's now up to you whether he lives or dies. Go to Unit Nine and prepare to swap places.'

The screen went blank. Jenna stood before the monitor and desperately tried to figure out what to do. Had Carrick really captured Brant, or was he preparing a trap? She felt sick with despair. There were now two desperate people trying to escape from the Phasewave machine and two people equally determined to stay outside it. Jenna could no longer think clearly. Brant was depending on her for help, and she was about to lose him. What could she do to help him with only a lance and a handful of detonators?

If there ever was a lowest point in her short lifetime, Jenna decided, she had found it. She sat with her head buried in her hands, incapable of reaching a decision. There was no alternative; her only chance to be with Brant again, and his only hope of survival, was for her to trust Ellen and take Carrick's place inside the machine. She had to cast aside her doubts and throw herself on Ellen's mercy before she cracked under the relentless pressure.

The events of the past days had exhausted Jenna, and she knew that she could no longer continue, so it was with a feeling of immense relief that she decided to go to Ellen and put an end to her suffering. Having made the decision, she then recalled how she had felt on finding Brant alive and realised how much she was counting on their being together again in real life. At the thought of Brant suffering at Carrick's hands, a terrible anger took hold of her, an intensity of feeling she had never before experienced. Why was she giving up on him? They had taken Vance, who surely must be dead, and now they wanted to take her as well. Brant was worth a hundred of the likes of Carrick, and Jenna was the only person he could call on for help. How could she let him down when he was relying on her so much?

Jenna had reached the stage where she no longer cared whether she lived or died and there and then made up her mind that she was going to attempt to release Brant from the machine, no matter what the cost. Could she overcome Ellen? Brant's face flashed before her eyes and made the rage tighten its grip. In her present situation, there was nothing to live for. She had confronted Carrick once already, and now she would force Ellen back inside the machine or die in the attempt. Could she do anything with the impulse detonators? Brant had told her that using them near an electric current increased the reaction. What would happen if they went off against a sub-drive? Would it be enough to destroy a Phasewave processor? Jenna got to her feet and looked at herself in the mirror. A new determination had strengthened her features, and the familiar stubborn set had returned to her chin. It was in a mood of defiance that Jenna left her room and made her way to Brant's cabin to collect the detonators. The war was nearly over; now it was time to fight the deciding battle!

Ellen entered Unit Nine and walked towards the communications monitor. She had almost reached it when an unmistakable sound broke the silence, and she turned to find herself staring into the spitting flame of a thermic lance. Her gaze followed the shaft of the lance until she was looking into Jenna's drawn, white face.

'So, the kitten has claws.' Ellen's expression turned sour. 'Aren't you out of your depth? Those things are for grown-ups. Put it down before you hurt yourself.'

'Get inside that machine!' Jenna shouted.

'Do you seriously intend to use that lance on me?' Ellen angrily demanded. She walked menacingly towards Jenna. 'Have you any idea what you're taking on? Go ahead. Try to force me. Let's see if you've got the guts to go the whole way.'

The flame from the lance made bright circles in the air as Jenna started to shake.

Ellen let out a coarse, braying peal of laughter. She held out her hand. 'Do you need any help? Perhaps you'd like me to hold it steady for you. Jenna, there's something you haven't quite grasped – I ceased listening to little idiots like you a long time ago. What makes you think you can tell me what to do?'

The lance remained quivering in Jenna's grip while Ellen stood with a face of stone and confronted the flame until Jenna broke eye contact and looked away, humiliated. Ellen turned and casually strolled back to the control console. 'You worry me, Jenna. The thought of you playing with that lance makes me nervous. Think of the damage you could cause.'

Jenna was dismayed to find that her plan had failed. She had to do something, anything, to regain the initiative. Jenna suddenly rushed forward and waved the lance across Ellen's body. Ellen fell to the floor clutching her burnt arm.

'Get inside that machine or I'll destroy us all!' Jenna pointed the lance at Ellen's face.

Ellen's eyes narrowed into vicious slits. 'You're going to destroy us all?' She scrambled to her feet and rubbed the scorched patch on the back of her uniform. 'Exactly how do you intend to go about that with a thermic lance?' Ellen burst into harsh laughter again, but fell silent when Jenna pulled the detonator controller from her waistband and clutched it in an unsteady grip.

'This whole unit is plastered with detonators, and I'm never going into that machine. Unless you go back inside, I'm going to blow us all up. This is your last chance to save Carrick. Do what I say, and I give you my word that I will do everything I can to get you both out, even if it means going to Vennica and tracking down the alien myself.'

'I give you my word,' Ellen mimicked in a take-off of Jenna's quavering voice. 'You couldn't swat a fly, let alone blow up a Phasewave unit. Make no mistake, you're going to end up inside that Phasewave whether you like it or not, one way or another.'

Nothing was working out the way Jenna had anticipated. The threat of the detonators had made no impression, and she did not know what to do next. Then the monitor burst into life, and Carrick's face appeared on the screen.

'Get inside,' Carrick said, 'or say goodbye to Brant forever.'

'You'll never force me into that machine,' Jenna cried. She held the controller above her head. 'This is your last chance.'

'Take my advice,' Ellen said. 'Don't start anything you can't finish. You're not capable of pressing that button.'

Carrick's face fell when he saw what Jenna was holding. 'For God's sake, Ellen,' he warned. 'If those detonators go off, the whole unit will go up.'

'Relax,' Ellen said. 'Jenna's not going to harm anybody.'

'That's enough!' Jenna screamed, almost dropping the controller as she applied pressure to the trigger. 'Die, both of you!'

'Don't let her do it!' Carrick yelled.

Ellen looked at Carrick as if he was insane. 'What's got into you? Jenna's not capable of blowing up a balloon. Nothing she can do will make me go into that machine; all I have to do is wait out here until she comes to her senses and changes her mind.'

The monitor suddenly flickered and the screen went blank. The two women stared at it, both wondering what was happening. Then a series of flashes crossed the screen, which flared back into life to reveal a different face. It was Brant.

'I've overcome Carrick,' Brant said. 'Ellen, if you don't come back inside the machine, I'm going to make sure that you never meet Carrick again. Think very hard before you make your next decision.'

Ellen appeared to be stunned, and her face took on a hunted, guarded expression.

Jenna raised the lance and advanced towards her, inspired by the unexpected reversal of Brant's fortunes. 'Brant is safe and is now going to terminate your useless partner,' she said. 'I don't have to blow this place up to get what I want; I can kill you right now with this lance and release Brant later when the next crew arrives.'

Ellen backed away, her face a dark mask of frustration and rage. Then she stood and held her ground. 'You're not getting away with this.'

'It's over.' The lance continued its relentless advance until its heat forced Ellen to take a step backwards, followed by another step. Suddenly, Ellen's nerve failed. She gave Jenna a bitter smile of defeat, turned, and walked slowly to the machine.

Jenna could not believe what she was seeing, and her heart pounded in anticipation. Had she won? Was Ellen about to give in?

Ellen picked up a bent rail and contemplated the mess of tangled wires, the results of Carrick's handiwork, before grasping the other rail. There was a short interval, followed by the familiar, low-pitched humming sound, and then Ellen disappeared from sight.

Jenna heaved a sigh of relief and lowered the lance, only to raise it again when the sound resumed. A body started to form in the place where Ellen had last stood.

Was it Carrick, or was it Brant? Jenna clutched the controller in a palm moist with perspiration, ready to trigger it at a moment's notice. The moving, transparent coils of vapour finally solidified into a male human shape that quickly walked over to stand by her side.

Brant prised the lance from Jenna's trembling hands and deactivated the controller. 'You won't need these anymore,' he said.

Jenna allowed him to release them from her grasp, lacking the strength to prevent him. 'Is it really you?' she whispered.

'Yes, it's me. It's all over. I'm finally back.'

At the sound of Brant's voice, Jenna's legs buckled, and she fell forward into his arms. Brant carried Jenna out of the machine and down the corridor. Safe in Brant's embrace, Jenna closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest where, although exhausted, she managed to find sufficient strength to latch her fingers into his uniform, as if fearing to lose contact with him again.

By the time Brant reached Jenna's cabin, she was fast asleep. He gently laid her on the bed and removed each individual strand of hair from her face, then sat next to her, holding her hands and listening to the softness of her breathing in the silence of the room. He stayed, motionless, for a long time until Jenna was completely relaxed, and then leant over and gently rested his lips against her brow before making his way to the door and turning out the lights.

In the distance, the deep orange glow of a setting sun illuminated the Phasewave base. Jenna stood inside Tracker North and stared out of the window, saddened by the knowledge of what was about to happen.

'We won't get hit by flying debris out here,' Brant said.

'Is there no other way?' Jenna picked up the detonator controller and held it thoughtfully.

'You saw how Ellen and Carrick behaved when they got out of the machine: the first thing they tried to do was steal your imprint. Both they and the machines must be destroyed before they find a way out.'

'I gave Ellen my word that I would try to help them,' Jenna said.

Brant took the controller from her hand. 'But I didn't.' He saw the look of concern on Jenna's face. 'This is the only way forward. Last time, I managed to reverse positions on Carrick and was able to help you, but neither of us can count on that kind of luck in the future.'

Although she knew that Brant was right, Jenna still felt a lingering sorrow and wished there was another solution. She walked back to the window and watched the dying orb of the sun turn blood red as it subsided below the horizon to release the night shadow on its nocturnal foray across the plain. A swarm of satellites ringed the darkening sky with a circle of lights and, higher still, tiny pinpricks broke through the dark mantle as stars became visible to the naked eye. Jenna looked at the pattern in the sky and wondered which one was the Vennican sun. 'What's that,' she asked, pointing to a moving light.

'It's a shuttleship,' Brant said. 'I put out an emergency call and diverted the _Amar_ here to pick us up.'

Jenna was puzzled. 'How did you manage to contact the _Amar_ from within Phasewave shadow?'

'You learn a lot when you're inside Phasewave. Let's put on a show for them. Watch this.'

Jenna glanced back towards the base in time to see a shaft of dark red smoke and flame funnel into the sky from the location of Unit Nine, followed shortly afterwards by a distant horizontal white flash from the site of Tracker South. She observed the aftermath of the explosions with a feeling of detachment, and then looked to the stars above and wished with all her might that everything that had happened was far behind them and that she and Brant were somewhere out amongst those stars watching a Vennican sunset together.

****************

#####  Chapter Thirteen

'I can't believe that we've been told to shut down the surveillance,' Milo said. 'Who do these Internal Operations agents think they are?'

'We must be working for them now,' Glen said. 'Why hasn't Gil contacted us?'

'Gil appears to have dropped off the face of the planet. I wonder why Slater didn't tell us himself instead of leaving it to Declan.'

'He could be trying to avoid us for some reason,' Glen said. 'It's strange that Operations has suddenly become involved. What exactly did they say to you?'

'They said that they wanted to pick us up this afternoon but couldn't find a transporter to take the surveillance gear. If one isn't available by nightfall, they'll come first thing in the morning.'

'We'd better start packing,' Glen said.

'Not yet. I'm not entirely happy with this arrangement; something is not right.'

'I just wonder ....' Glen hesitated.

'What?'

'It's nothing.'

'I know you too well. What have you heard?'

'Only a rumour,' Glen said, 'and I know your opinions about rumours.'

'Where would I be without you and your rumours?'

'That reminds me, I forgot to tell you that I've been assigned as Jenna's Support Officer.'

'How did that come about? I thought you were supposed to be working for me.'

'This was a request from another department; it won't clash with your investigation. Don't envy me. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to meeting Jenna again after her brain has been deliberately damaged and then staying with her while she recovers, assuming that she ever does recover. And afterwards, regardless of whether Jenna is alive or dead, I will be forced to certify that all legal procedures were complied with throughout the treatment in order to protect the butchers who carried it out from prosecution.'

'You sound unusually pessimistic,' Milo said.

'That's because I just described exactly what happened three months ago to another of my clients. But, going back to rumour control, give one example of any of my rumours proving to be wrong.'

Milo carefully considered the question. 'Okay, I guess you're usually right. What is it this time?'

'It was the strangest thing. I was looking through Gossip Hotline when this rumour flashed up. It was about a five million dollar contract to kill a suspect in a court case. At first, I took no notice, and then I got a horrible feeling that the rumour could be referring to Jenna. A few minutes later, I went back to the site, but someone had already removed the rumour. Usually a rumour like that generates a whole raft of responses, but nobody posted a single remark. I was about to go onto the site and ask if anyone else had seen the rumour when I suddenly realised that the site was being censored, so I kept my name to myself. It was a bit sinister, and I can only assume that the Security Service is monitoring the site.'

'Now I really don't like the sound of this, and I'm going to keep the recorders going for as long as possible until I manage to contact Gil. I'm convinced that the internal communications are no longer secure, so, if you don't mind, I'd like to switch off the coms blocker and re-route the data stream to your apartment. Can you arrange it?'

'No problem. I'll make the connections right now.'

'Before you do that,' Milo said, 'let me share with you for a change.'

'Is this Milo pushing a rumour? There's a first time for everything.'

'This could be serious. I was talking to someone a while ago, and the subject of the Colonies came up. I haven't really been involved with Colonial goings-on, but it looks like there could be a situation developing. Both the Old and New Colonies refused to recognize Vennican rule when the government ceded power to the Judiciary, and in retaliation, the Law Lords threatened to increase colonial taxes. The Colonies then blocked the export of trace minerals to Vennica, which could eventually affect almost half of Vennica's manufacturing capability.'

'That's fairly common knowledge,' Glen said.

'Yes, but the talk now is that that both Colonies, after three hundred years of confrontation, have decided to call a truce and form an alliance to take over Vennica.'

'That would be an incredibly stupid thing to do.'

'I agree, but if you look at the combined firepower of their respective combat fleets, which they each retained after the last war, you get a feeling that it would be a very short, one-sided conflict. Vennica would be practically helpless against an invasion of that order.'

'Do you believe that an invasion is likely?'

'I didn't at first, but I have now heard more than a few rumblings along the same lines, and it's beginning to look like the Judiciary is completely ignoring the situation. I wouldn't worry too much because it will take time to organise an assault on that scale, and I'm sure that we would have ample warning of any impending attack against Vennica.'

'I don't know what to say,' Glen said. 'I mean, this is a genuine rumour, from you. What are you going to come up with next?'

'Watch this space. In the meantime, let's collect the sensors and pack all the loose stuff, then we'll be ready to leave if the transport does turn up.'

Jenna laid down a cloth and brought out the food she had prepared.

Declan watched her while he carefully considered everything she had said, eventually concluding that he had been correct in his first assessment.

'That's it,' she said, breaking the silence. 'What do you think?'

'I need more time.'

'You promised,' Jenna said. 'Come on, Declan, keep your side of the bargain.'

'Don't rush me into saying something I don't mean. I still need a little more time.'

'Time is the one thing we haven't got, remember? I need to know what you've found before I go mad.'

'I understand, but I haven't yet reached a conclusion.'

Jenna looked away. 'I know you have. If you don't have the courage to tell me, it can only mean that you haven't believed anything I've said. I won't ask you again.'

Declan touched her on the arm. 'I do believe you, and I promise to tell you everything I know as soon as I am able.'

Jenna ignored him and started to eat. Declan helped himself to some fruit and they sat in silence.

'Do you mind if I ask you a few, final questions?' he said.

'Yes.'

'I need to know what took place after your return to Vennica.'

'You already know.'

'Tell me anyway,' Declan persisted.

Jenna shrugged. 'Don't you ever give up? Okay, Brant and I came back on the _Amar_ , and by the time we docked at Spaceport, a circus was waiting. Some goons arrested us and took us to Kalmis, where we were imprisoned and interrogated. Game over. That's all I intend to say, and the subject is now closed.'

The two of them consumed their meal without further conversation, after which, by wordless agreement, they made their way down from the mountain. Declan now fully understood everything Jenna had told him but still could not think of a way to share his findings with her. By the time they reached their apartment, the daylight had flattened and a grey tinge to the sky heralded expectations of snow to come.

'I guess this is it,' Jenna said, taking off her coat.

'I must try to reach the authorities,' Declan said, even though he had no idea to which authorities he was referring.

'It's too late; they won't listen to you,' she said sadly, taking Declan's hand and pressing it against her breast. 'It's over. We have to accept it. This is goodbye.'

The pain that had formed in Declan's chest prevented him from answering. By way of reply, he lifted Jenna off her feet and carried her through to the bedroom where they slowly undressed each other and made love, at first frantically, and then slowly. Afterwards they lay with their bodies locked together on the bed and shared an unspoken grief.

Jenna traced a pattern in the hair on Declan's chest. 'That guy Slater. You knew him before, didn't you?'

'He was the reason I went to Scion,' Declan said.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

Declan had never before discussed the cause of his self-imposed exile; it was as if the memories had been stored for this one moment in time. 'Six years ago I was working for Gil and the Justice Department. With the few staff employed by the Department, the only practical way to progress an investigation was to offer large sums of money for information on crime. Then one day an informer turned and led two agents into an ambush, after which they were tortured and killed and their bodies dumped outside the headquarters building. It was a warning from one of the Kalmis syndicates that we were getting too close. The Department hadn't lost anyone for years, so you can imagine the reaction of the other agents. In retaliation, two of Gil's men discovered the identity of the informer and went to his apartment one night. They forced him to watch while they butchered his partner and child, and afterwards he met the same fate.'

'That's bad,' Jenna said. 'Did they get away with it?'

'The whole department was in mourning and couldn't forget the treatment that had been handed out to their own agents, so nobody was too upset about the murder of an informer, or his family. Except Gil, he was concerned, so he assigned me to investigate the killings. That was when things started to go wrong.'

'Did you find out that Slater was involved?'

'Slater was one of the men involved, but it transpired that they had got the wrong target and wiped out an entire family for no reason. The rest of the agents took the position that it was bad luck, but the victim was a known criminal and probably deserved everything he got. Slater openly boasted about the killings and became a local hero. During the investigation, evidence started to go missing, witnesses dropped out, and the whole thing stagnated until the Security Council summoned Gil and forced him to call off the case. That's when I lost faith in the Department and left for Scion.'

'And here you are, back again, waiting for Slater.'

'Yes, and he'll be well pleased to see me out of the way. Slater has no qualms about removing people he doesn't agree with.'

Jenna rolled onto her back. 'I thought Carrick was bad news, but compared to Slater, he sounds almost normal.'

'We live in interesting times,' Declan said.

'No, Declan, we live in unfortunate times.'

Declan turned onto his side and held Jenna beneath the covers. 'Jenna, I want to tell you how much I love you.'

'You mustn't talk of love,' Jenna said. 'You don't understand because you don't know what love is.'

'I know what I feel.'

'You think you know how you feel at this moment, but love goes much deeper.'

'Have you ever been in love?'

'I've generally been unsuccessful in that area, but yes, I once fell in love.' Jenna smiled knowingly. 'Haven't you worked it out yet?'

'What do you mean?'

'Brant and I were partners. We were in love with each other.'

'Oh,' Declan said. Jenna's revelation was the last thing he had been expecting, but at least it resolved one problem: now he could never tell her what he knew.

'You and Brant have a lot in common,' Jenna said. 'If you were ever to meet each other, you would get on really well together.'

'I think not,' Declan said.

'What makes you say that?'

'Well, for a start, I can't see him appreciating our being in bed together,' Declan said, and, without any apparent physical movement, he sensed the gap between their bodies widen slightly; it was almost as if he had discovered a total stranger in bed with him.

'Don't be such a prude.' Jenna laughed. 'Brant wouldn't mind; he's not like that.'

Declan found it hard to come to terms with the fact that Jenna had lived another life before they met. 'Do you wonder what Brant is doing?' he asked.

'I worry about him all the time. When we last saw each other, he told me not to be concerned and that he would wait for me until the day we would be together again.'

'It sounds like he has a plan.'

'I can't imagine what that might be; since I last saw Brant, things have only gone from bad to worse.'

Declan lay and mused over what Jenna had told him about Brant, but could not see how Brant could possibly be in a position to influence Jenna's future. As for Brant's unexplained escape from custody, he now understood how it had happened. Jenna gradually drifted into sleep, but Declan was restless and remained awake. After a while, he slipped from the bed, dressed and went out onto the balcony where, as he was watching the grey clouds scud by in the gloom, he heard his messager calling. It was Gil.

'What's going on?' Declan asked.

'I'm back on the case,' Gil said. 'It's complicated. Slater and Jarvine are now officially stood down, and I intend to visit Plano to personally assure you that you are both safe. I'll fill you in on the details later. Unfortunately, Internal Operations shut down the surveillance this afternoon, and the team will be withdrawn in the morning. The communications link between Plano and Kalmis was shut down for a few days while security checked it out for a suspected leak, so I've been out of touch for a while. Has Jenna come up with anything yet?'

'I have identified the events as they occurred, but I don't think you're going to like what you hear.'

'What's new?' Tell me anyway; it might cheer me up.'

'Jenna doesn't know the full story, and you'll understand why when you've heard it. Let's start with what we know so far of the events that took place on Bouron.'

'That won't take long,' Gil said.

'Probably not, but let me test the logic on you.'

Gil sighed. 'I've got a feeling that I've been here before. What makes me think a lot of speculation is coming my way?'

'Six months ago, a Phasewave unit on Bouron was damaged by a massive energy input, and afterwards that unit and a nearby tracker station were modified in a manner and for a purpose that cannot be explained. Following the modifications to those units, four people disappeared, and searches failed to locate their bodies. Then there is a gap, during which we only have Jenna's version of events to work on, until an emergency call from Bouron led to Jenna's evacuation. Before that could take place, Jenna and Brant destroyed Unit Nine and Tracker South, including all evidence of the modifications carried out to them. Last week another Phasewave on Vennica was broken into, and that is now where we are in this investigation.'

'I could argue that most of that isn't set in stone, but I wouldn't be helping the case,' Gil interrupted. 'You haven't yet mentioned Brant. Where do you think he fits in?'

'Where Brant is concerned, we only have Jenna's account to work with. Shortly after arriving on Bouron, Brant accidentally died while he was examining the burnt-out Phasewave, and Vance destroyed his body in accordance with base regulations. Brant then disappeared from the scene until he contacted Jenna from inside the Phasewave machine and pointed her in the direction of his detonators. When Ellen started to suspect that Jenna had caught her out and was about to put the pressure on, Carrick took Brant's place and gave Jenna an ultimatum – give up or never see Brant again. That, however, had the opposite effect and gave Jenna such a jolt of indignation that she turned on Ellen and eventually managed to force her back inside the machine, after which Brant then reappeared in physical form for the first time since his death.'

Gil started to interrupt, but Declan signalled him to wait.

'Held in a maximum security prison after his return to Vennica, Brant then simply walked out of prison, and shortly afterwards the Kalmis Phasewave was broken into. That is basically all we know about Brant.'

Gil shook his head. 'Later, I'll tell you more about Brant, but right now I don't know what you're getting at. Is this leading anywhere?'

'Don't you understand? The key to this investigation is the alien; it's the alien we should be looking for.'

'We don't even know if there is such a thing. How are we supposed to go looking for it?'

'I think that the first experiment, when the alien managed to coax the four crew members into the Phasewave, went wrong, and for some reason the alien failed to assume human form. Ellen told Jenna that after the alien had examined her and Carrick, it transmitted itself to Vennica through Phasewave, and they never came across it again, but what I suspect happened is that the alien never left Bouron and remained trapped inside Unit Nine along with Ellen and Carrick, although neither of them was aware of its presence.'

'Hold on,' Gil said. 'This is a big departure from the original story.'

'When Ellen talked about the alien leaving Bouron and assuming human form on Vennica, I'm sure she believed it to be true, but there was never anything to substantiate that claim. From what Jenna told me, I understand that the so-called genetic imprint was essential to the process of human beings entering and leaving the Phasewave machine. The alien, however, did not retain any of the crews' imprints when they entered the machine, which makes me think it was unaware that it would need one if it intended to assume a physical form. That would seem probable because the alien had never had an imprint of its own. Following the failure of the experiment, I think that the alien adopted a low profile and waited for events to unravel while it tried to work out another way to assume a physical form. After watching Carrick and Ellen go about things, it must have reached the conclusion that possession of an imprint was essential for its plan to assume human form and that Jenna's imprint would be the next to become available.'

'I thought this thing was supposed to be an advanced life form. If it's so clever, how come the experiment failed?'

'The alien acquired its knowledge of the human race from the data passing through the Phasewave system; in other words it was basing its assumptions on second-hand knowledge. You and I have learned most of what we know from experience, but the alien had never attempted to do anything physical since its creation. What kind of practical skills could it have learnt from watching the Scyros Maddoc show? I think it accidentally destroyed Rogan and Sewell when it attempted to transfer them into the machine and, on its next attempt, it successfully reduced Ellen and Carrick to aphysical forms but failed to exchange places with either of them. It also wanted to access the Intranet and travel to Vennica, but that would not have been possible from Bouron because the base equipment only relayed incoming data. The alien could only access the Intranet through a peripheral Phasewave, which would require it to first assume a physical form and then travel to another planet to find one. Confined to the Phasewave unit, it was only later, after Carrick and Ellen had demonstrated the importance of the genetic imprint in the transformation by taking Vance's, that the alien was able to start making plans for the future again.'

'This is stretching things beyond the limit,' Gil said. 'You make it sound straightforward, but you have conveniently overlooked a lot of ifs and maybes.'

'It's the only explanation that fits the facts. Don't forget that this creature must have intelligence far higher than our own, and once it had assumed a physical form, it would not have had any problems breaking out of prison or into a Phasewave unit.'

'Wait, wait!' Gil paused while he tried to digest what Declan had said. 'You're going too far. Are you seriously telling me that Brant is the alien?'

'Yes.'

'That's ridiculous! Jenna said it was definitely Brant who came out of the machine.'

'Someone who looked like Brant came out of the machine,' Declan said, 'but Brant was almost certainly killed in the first accident and never got near the inside of the machine. If I'm correct, the alien does not have a mind like ours; it has a total record and recall system, which means that once it had observed Brant it would never forget him. At the end, when Ellen was outside the machine with Jenna, the alien was impersonating both Carrick and Brant: that's how they were conveniently able to switch places at crucial moments to put pressure on both Ellen and Jenna. After Ellen had gone back into the Phasewave, the alien would have been able to access her imprint and materialize in a physical form. It could replicate Brant down to his every mannerism and movement and even physically reproduce him using his own DNA.'

'Wouldn't Jenna have been suspicious? Surely she would have noticed some differences?'

'Jenna had no reason to suspect anything. After all, Brant had technically returned from the dead, so Jenna would probably not have been too concerned if he acted a bit strangely. As long as Jenna remained under the impression that the alien had long since departed for Vennica, she would have had no reason whatsoever to suspect that it was still lurking inside the machine. Another coincidence remains unexplained: the situation where Jenna was outside the base on Bouron when it suffered a total power failure, which apparently is not supposed to happen on a Phasewave base, yet that power failure managed at the same time to knock out Carrick and release the base airlocks. What phenomena could account for that if it wasn't engineered by the alien?'

Gil shook his head in disbelief. 'I'm becoming very, very confused. Was the Kalmis Phasewave broken into by Brant or the alien?'

'Neither Brant, nor any other human, possesses the ability to walk out of a prison or penetrate the Phasewave base security system. It had to have been the alien. There is no Brant, only an alien life form which has taken on his physical characteristics.'

'So why did the alien break into the Kalmis Phasewave? What was it hoping to achieve?'

'It did so in order to gain access to the whole Phasewave network. Once the alien had entered the system, it would have access to a protected power source and be able to travel the universe at will.'

Gil scratched his head. 'Will it retain any of Brant's characteristics, or will it change again into a life form we won't recognize?'

'Who knows? My guess is that the alien will only retain human form until it becomes emotionally mature, at which time it will probably seek other experiences. Brant formed a relationship with Jenna, and she fell in love with him. That's why I can't say anything. How can I tell Jenna that she's taken an alien for her partner?'

'This story takes some swallowing,' Gil said.

'For that reason, I want only you to know about it.'

Gill mulled over the information. 'This may help you with your deliberations – I've just discovered that after the Kalmis Phasewave base was broken into, Brant was found inside one of its units suffering a total memory loss. Phasewave security held him for two days before telling anyone because they were reluctant to admit that a total stranger literally walked off the road and entered a Phasewave unit undetected. Nothing was disturbed, and they could establish no reason for the break-in.'

'Then it would appear that the alien has transferred back into the machine and discarded Brant's physical form,' Declan said. 'Where is he now?'

'Brant is back inside a prison hospital where they have checked him out and confirmed that he is suffering from severe amnesia. Where do we go from here?'

'We don't. The alien could be anywhere by now, and if we release that information, there will be alien sightings in every shadow. We need to visit the Kalmis Phasewave.'

'In view of recent events, I'm not sure that's a viable option,' Gil said.

'The alien may have already left Kalmis, but this could be our last opportunity to determine its existence and take the case forward. If we can achieve that, it will explain all the anomalies in this case.'

'Are you seriously hoping to make contact with the alien?'

'Yes, and I want to take Jenna with me because the alien must have established a relationship with her during the journey back to Vennica.'

'I'm beginning to wonder if you've caught space sickness yourself,' Gil said.

'Very well, I will retract everything I've said if you can explain to me how Brant escaped from prison and how he broke into a Phasewave base.'

Gil thought hard before replying. 'There's no answer to those questions. I need to think carefully about visiting the Phasewave because right now there's no way the Company would officially allow Jenna anywhere near one of its units, especially after the recent break-in. Meanwhile, I'm letting the surveillance team go. It was too short notice to change plans, and I think they have already completed as much as they could. I have to say that I'm still not convinced about Brant and the alien bit, but I'll give it some more thought. Make the most of your last night, but if you can't get Jenna to come up with anything new, all our efforts will have been in vain. I will see you tomorrow.'

#####  Chapter Fourteen

Declan returned to the bedroom and found Jenna awake with the lights on.

'I heard you talking to someone,' Jenna said. 'I presume it was Gil.'

'It was, and I have some good news: Gil is on the case again. The other news is that we are leaving tomorrow evening to return to Kalmis.'

Jenna stared at Declan. 'This is all going wrong. First, it was Slater and his sidekick, then the surveillance, and now even Gil is cutting us short. What's next?'

'Gil has not told me everything, but I think he considers we will be safer if we move away from Plano. You mustn't worry; we'll make sure that you come to no harm.'

'It's hard not to worry with all that brainwashing coming my way.'

'That is the last option; several things have to take place before you need to consider that.'

Jenna lay on her back, pensively staring at the ceiling. She turned to face Declan. 'Are you absolutely positive that the surveillance has been shut down and that no one is listening to us?'

'Gil confirmed that the surveillance had been stood down. He thought it had completed its task.'

'So you are certain that we are not being overheard?'

'Yes.'

'Then this is definitely our last night together, and it is time I gave you a fuller account of events that took place on Bouron.'

Declan suddenly became alert.

'First of all, I don't want you to be concerned about me,' Jenna said. 'The brainwashing is not going to take place.'

'It still remains a distinct possibility.'

'If you say so. Now, I have to level with you and admit that I have not been entirely honest; a lot of what I told you was made up.'

'You mean you have been lying to me?' Declan asked. 'Why are you telling me this only now?'

'I was not happy pushing that story out, but before you turned up on the scene, I was questioned by dozens of people. Each time, I told them the truth, and each time not one person believed a word I said, so I knew there was no point in pushing the same old story again.'

'That is not what we agreed,' Declan said.

'Do I need to remind you that a lot of the events of these last few days were not what we agreed? Now we must put this to rest, and I assure you that you will not be disappointed to hear what I have to say.' Jenna pulled the bedcovers around her and leaned back against the wall. 'When Brant and I arrived back on Vennica, we brought with us evidence which proved that we were completely innocent of any wrongdoing.'

'What evidence was that?'

'We had video of the bodies.'

'What bodies?'

'We found the bodies of the missing crew inside the tracker station.'

'How did they die?'

'Not so fast! This story has a long way to run. Ellen also left a diary which gave a vivid account of the demise of her crew.'

'Where is all this evidence? If it helps your case, where is it?'

Jenna shrugged. 'It was all taken by the Phasewave Company, and nobody has seen it since. There was a coordinated attempt by the Company to discredit us, and that evidence just disappeared. For all I know, the Company destroyed it. They even removed the reports we had entered in the base logs.'

Declan was shocked at the way events were turning out. 'How do I know if anything you are now saying is true?'

'Stay with me. I had to make things up as I went along because I needed time. To put your mind to rest, I can assure you that an alien is involved and guarantee that you are going to meet it.'

Declan was struggling to come to terms with Jenna's new revelations and dismissed her comments. 'Why did you need time?'

'Let me continue. I promise you that what I now say is the truth and is exactly what happened up to this point. I cannot tell you more because I need to find out what has developed elsewhere since we came to Plano. Let me start at the point when we arrived on Bouron. From the very beginning of our stay on the base, nothing felt quite right. We discovered signs of damage throughout the buildings, and some of the furnishings – mainly tables and chairs – were mismatched. Then we found that Unit Nine was down, as was one of the trackers. All the base logs were missing, and there were no records anywhere of the unit failures. Even the written records and worksheets were incomplete. We took a look at Unit Nine and found that it had suffered severe explosion damage and was a complete write-off.'

'If it was a write-off, how did the other crew manage to modify it?'

'There were no modifications because they weren't necessary; all that stuff about going in and out of the machine was just nonsense. Brant then found a pile of broken furniture and fittings hidden in a storeroom at the back of the quarters, and we began to suspect that the _Giran's_ crew had not searched everywhere and had just tidied up the mess they found in order to remove evidence of anything that might have delayed their departure. I then went into the base mainframe and found that the logs had been deleted after the _Giran's_ shuttle had landed, which meant that its crew must have deleted them.'

'Why would they do that?'

'We reckoned that the crew had probably discovered the bodies in the tracker, and since space convention mandates that any human remains found must be recovered, the crew would have had to take those bodies back to Spaceport. However, if the _Giran_ did return with bodies on board, the ship and its crew and passengers would have to go into quarantine after arrival and stay in quarantine until the port authorities gave them the all clear. That could have taken weeks, longer if they found any signs of disease on the ship. Clearly, the _Giran's_ crew thought it through and decided not get involved.

'At what stage did you find the bodies?' Declan asked.

'One day, Brant and I were looking at the line-scans taken by the _Giran_ when we noticed an object buried in the dust outside Tracker South. It looked as if a skimmer had parked there and sunk below the surface. We then checked the cargo bay and there were two skimmers and two suits missing. Our next call was to visit the tracker, to which Vance violently objected; he just wanted a peaceful life and suspected, as we did, that the tracker held the key to the disappearance of the previous crew. We ignored Vance and went out to the tracker where we found a skimmer buried outside under the dust and another parked inside the tracker airlock. The airlock itself had been smashed open at some time and was not functioning, and the inside of the tracker looked like a butcher's shop. Three of the bodies were in pieces, and their dismembered parts were scattered around the floor. Severed heads was lined up on a bench. It was a blood-bath in there, and the only intact body was Carrick's.'

'This is another of your stories,' Declan interrupted.

Jenna reached over the bed into a wardrobe. She pulled out a sheaf of papers and sat next to Declan. 'Take a look at these illustrations before you call this a story.'

Declan took the drawings from Jenna. The first one depicted a gruesome scene of carnage that Declan assumed was the interior of the tracker station. Body parts littered the floor and sightless faces stared at him from a bench. Even though the drawing lacked colour, it was so graphically correct that it completely conveyed the visual impact of the scene. Jenna handed him some other selected drawings, which were mainly of body parts and viscera. Declan shuddered when he saw a close-up drawing of the severed heads; Ellen's skull appeared to have been split in two with a sharp object

'These drawings are very accurate,' Declan observed. 'How did you manage to draw them from memory?'

'I have a photographic memory,' Jenna said, 'and I draw them at night when I can't sleep. I have dozens to show you. Now, do you still think this is a story?'

Declan studied the drawings again, but they made him feel nauseous. He returned them to Jenna. 'No, I have to admit that I don't. However, I'm not sure that everyone would be of the same opinion.'

'I understand. Before we left Bouron, Brant and I were careful to record all our actions, particularly before we torched the tracker building. You can't destroy installations without good reason, especially when they are Company property. We even completed death certificates and listed all our actions because we knew that we would be subject to a thorough investigation when we returned to Vennica. The whole tracker building was a sickening mess, and the bodies were decaying and leaking contamination out onto the planet through the broken airlock. We couldn't do anything to secure the building. How I wish you could have read those reports and seen the video; it would have saved all of us a lot of time instead of fooling about in this place.'

Jenna became agitated. 'All the time I was being interrogated by those investigators, I never knew their names or who they were working for because they refused to answer any of my questions. I cannot remember how many times I related the same story. They tried everything they could to make me change my statements but became increasingly aggressive and threatening when I refused. It all ended after a particularly bad interview. There was one man who was worse than the rest, and he was present all through the last grilling sessions before Gil took over. At one point, he called the team to a room next door, and I overheard a huge argument. He wanted to use electric shock treatment on me, but the others refused to do it. He was obviously a powerful person, right up there, and although the team were afraid of him, they would not allow me to come to any harm. I have no idea why he behaved that way, and I will never forget him or forgive him. He was pure evil. Your people have a lot to answer for.'

'Can you describe the person you just mentioned?'

'I can do better.' Jenna shuffled through the pile of drawings and handed one to Declan.

Declan stared in amazement at the drawing. 'This is Goldman, the Law Lord. You must be mistaken.'

'I can assure you that this is the man in question. I will remember him to my dying day.'

'I am sorry to have to continue this line of questioning,' Declan said, 'but it is imperative that I now establish the truth.'

Jenna shrugged. 'To return to the evidence we had collected, we discussed it at length with Vance but had no idea how to proceed. It looked like Carrick had killed and dismembered the others before he died, which caused a problem because the senior base engineer could sign a death certificate only if a death was accidental or from natural causes, after which the body could be routinely destroyed. In this case, we had four bodies in a state of decay, and it looked as though three of them had died violently and been dismembered. Even though contamination was leaking out through the airlock door, we were not sure what to do about it. Technically, we would be carrying out a criminal act by destroying the evidence, but we also had a directive to prevent pollution from contaminating the planet. Then, before we had time to make a decision, Brant went missing. Vance and I searched the base and found him lying dead on the floor of Unit Nine. We were devastated and reckoned that he must have received some kind of electric shock from the Phasewave, so we videoed the event, removed Brant's body, and sealed off the unit. It was a bad time for us. Vance offered to put Brant body into a bag and destroy his corpse, as I didn't want to be involved. Whilst he was doing that, I went to my cabin and cried my eyes out. You can imagine my shock when Vance came running into my room and said Brant was still alive.'

Jenna left the room, and when she returned with a glass of water, Declan noticed that her hands were trembling. She continued, 'We both went to the sick bay where we had left Brant, and he was lying there, white as a sheet, but he was twitching his head and rolling his eyes. There was no sign of a pulse, and he was not breathing; technically he was dead. We racked our brains but simply had no idea how to treat him. This continued for a few days, but all the time his body was decaying and starting to turn black and fluids were leaking from him.' Jenna pulled out another drawing of Brant's blackened and distorted body and gave it to Declan. 'The body movements got worse until we had to restrain his arms to stop him hurting himself, and then he started to make grunting noises, even though he was not breathing. His flesh became so bad that it started to separate from his arms where the bandages cut in. It smelt like only a dead body can, and it was almost intolerable. Vance and I became very concerned that Brant's decomposing body would infect the base and us, and we knew we had to do something about it. Vance said he could only think of cutting Brant's head off to stop the movements. I felt sick at the thought but said I would assist him because I knew that we could not just stand by and watch him deteriorate further. By all normal definitions, he was already beyond being dead, as in rotting corpse. By that time, we were both exhausted and decided to carry out the operation the following morning. We agreed to meet in the sick bay, and Vance told me he would wake me up when he was ready. However, I must have slept longer than I expected because Vance had not called by the time I woke up. I then went to Vance's cabin and found him lying dead on the floor. He must have been dead for some time because his skin was cold; it looked like his heart had finally given out under all the stress. I must say that I had reached the point where I just wanted to end it all, but I knew I couldn't abandon Brant. I had a few stiff drinks then returned to the sick bay to finish Brant off. When I reached the bed, Brant raised his head and managed to gasp out, "Jenna, help me".'

Jenna finished her glass of water. 'That was the absolute lowest point in my life. Brant's violent body movements had died down, so I cut his bandages free. Then I noticed that colour was returning to his face, and he was breathing again. To cut a long story short, I washed his body and looked after him until, after a day or two, the decay had stopped and new flesh and skin was appearing. After three days, he started to take liquids and foods and then continued to improve from that point on. Over the next few weeks, we settled down into a routine until Brant had literally returned to normal, although he did have a few memory lapses in the early stages of his recovery. Finally, when Brant was fit enough, we made a decision to destroy the tracker containing the previous crew and also Vance's body at the same time.'

Declan sat in silence, failing to grasp most of what Jenna had just told him. 'I'll come back to these drawings later,' he said. 'You mentioned Ellen's diary earlier on. If the base records had been removed, how did you come by that?'

Jenna suddenly perked up. 'Well Declan, I was hoping that you might have spotted a few inconsistencies in my timescales. How did you think we got back to Vennica?'

'You told me that Brant called the supply ship, the _Amar_ , from within Phasewave shadow.'

'That didn't happen.'

'So how did you return?'

'We got VIP treatment: the Phasewave Company sent out a special ship to bring us back to Vennica.'

'How could the Company have known that something had gone wrong if you weren't in radio contact?'

'Now I'm really glad you asked that question because it proves that you are listening to me. When the _Giran's_ pilots stripped the base of its records, they discovered Ellen's diary, but Ellen was from the Colonies and had written her diary in the old language, which they did not understand. On the way back to Vennica, they destroyed all the logs and electronic records they had taken from the base but became curious about the contents of the diary and decided to scan it through a translator before they got rid of it. What they found made them reconsider their actions. I don't think it had been the pilots' intention to retain the diary, but after reading it, I suspect they realized how deep a mess they were getting into, especially when they worked out that whatever had been responsible for the disappearance of the old crew might put the replacement crew at risk. If that were to happen, the pilots must have been aware that they would come under a lot of scrutiny back on Vennica, so they decided to come clean, and once they were out of Phasewave shadow, they radioed ahead and let the Company know what Ellen had put in her diary. The diary recorded everything that had occurred, starting with the comet tail problem and the failure of Unit Nine. It was almost as if Ellen was looking to the future and writing the diary to help protect the next arrivals.

'Unit Nine failed after ingesting fragments of the comet tail, and a couple of weeks later, Carrick found Rogan lying dead on the floor of the unit. Then Sewell was trying to find out what had happened when he became ill. Carrick discovered him in a state of distress complaining of severe head pains, after which his condition rapidly deteriorated until eventually he lost his mind and died shortly afterwards. Ellen had no idea what had caused the deaths of the two men. In the meantime, Tracker South had also malfunctioned, so Ellen and Carrick stored both bodies in the tracker for safekeeping because they needed to be preserved for later examination. Carrick thought that the two men may have received shocks from the Phasewave machine and sealed off Unit Nine, but he could not resist revisiting the unit for one last look. Something happened to him and drove him literally raving mad. He attacked Ellen, who managed to lock him in one of the domestic rooms where he wrecked the furniture. Concerned about her own safety, Ellen wrote in her diary that she knew she had to kill Carrick before he killed her, but they were life partners, and she could not face doing it. She wrote that she thought he would soon die anyway, like the others, and that if he did manage to escape, she would take a skimmer and hide in Tracker South. I speak the old language, and later I actually read her diary – her last words were, "As I live and die, I swear that something here is killing us, one by one." You can imagine the Phasewave Company's reaction when they received a copy of the diary from the _Giran_. The Company sent out a ship as fast as possible, with two investigators on board who carried out a thorough examination of the base before returning to Vennica with us. They patiently listened to everything that Brant and I had to say, and after we reached Vennica, they were part of my first interrogation team.'

'What is your take on all that? Do you believe that those people were killed by the Phasewave?'

'They weren't killed by the Phasewave; they were inadvertently killed by an alien living inside the Phasewave. I will tell you exactly how the alien came to be. A transmission containing organic material picked up from a comet tail came down into the Phasewave unit, where the machine processed it normally. The contaminants, however, produced an excessive build-up of heat when they were compressed in the plasma chamber, causing the machine to explode, but what it achieved in that fraction of a second was the creation of a life form, a life form that had no physical content. It was just a massive memory that needed energy to survive, and it stayed alive inside the Phasewave unit living off current supplied by the sub-drive. Because of its intelligence, it rapidly became aware of its surroundings and started to listen to all the transmissions passing through the base. It infiltrated the base monitors and sensed human presence, then started watching the crew. When Rogan was examining the damaged unit one day, he touched its metal case and the alien entered his body, unfortunately killing him in the process. The alien did not know what it was doing and, until then, had no idea that it might inadvertently harm another life form. It did the same with Sewell but managed to keep him alive for a while longer before he, too, succumbed. With Carrick, it actually succeeded in keeping him alive, but Carrick lost his mind in the process, and in the last, insane hours of his life, he followed a skimmer trail and found Ellen hiding inside Tracker South. Although Ellen had secured the airlock, Carrick smashed the doors open with his skimmer and killed Ellen using a fire axe from the emergency cabinet. The broken airlock allowed the tracker to depressurize and, after mutilating Ellen and the bodies of the other two crewmembers, Carrick died after his oxygen generator ran out. Ellen never came into actual contact with the alien.'

'You said there were no modifications to the Phasewave machine. How did the alien manage to enter the crew members?'

'The alien was able to transfer straight from the metal casing of the unit into a human being. That's what happened to all three men.'

'When Rogan died, why didn't the alien die with him? How was it able to go on to kill the others?'

'How big is electricity? Theoretically, the alien could exist in one Phasewave unit or one hundred units or any installation that could provide the power to sustain its existence. Given the opportunity, it could eventually spread throughout the universe. When the alien expands into another location, it relies on its host's dynamic environment to supply the power necessary to support it, so there is a limit on how much of its entity it can move to each new location. Once that environment ceases to exist, so does that part of the alien. When Rogan died, there was no longer enough energy to sustain the part of the alien inside him.'

'If it was not confined to the Phasewave, could it have transferred to a human from anywhere it existed?'

'No, it needed a particular type of energy to penetrate the skin of a human body, and it initially got that from the sub-drives; the domestic power supply didn't enable it to transfer from the monitors or base equipment. Once it has occupied a human being, the only way for it to transfer to another human is internally during sexual intercourse or tongue-to-tongue contact, where only thin, sensitive membranes protect those parts of the body concerned. You can, however, receive a fatal electric shock through the tongue if you are not careful.'

'How can you be sure of all this if you were not there?'

Jenna held up her hand. 'Once again, not so fast. This story will go much deeper before you fully understand it. Now you know what Ellen went through, and I feel bad by making her out to be some kind of monster when she was a truly loyal partner to Carrick. That was all in the diary, and I think I have told you all I can for the moment. It is very important that I now catch up with Brant.'

A thought had begun to develop in Declan's mind. 'Do you remember Gil telling me two days ago that a Phasewave unit had been broken into, and we speculated that it could have been Brant?'

'I can't think of a reason why anyone would attempt to break into a Phasewave base; it had to have been Brant.'

'Were you surprised?'

'No. I knew that Brant would try to reach a Phasewave if he got the chance, but I have no idea how successful his mission was.'

'What was he trying to do?'

'I cannot tell you.'

'Well, Brant, apparently having lost his memory, was found inside the Phasewave base and was taken to a prison hospital. Was that part of his plan?'

Jenna laughed. 'Yes, and that makes it easier for me because I now desperately need to visit the Phasewave.'

'Unfortunately, I don't know which one he broke into.'

'The bases need to be sited hundreds of kilometres apart to avoid interference with each other; there can only be one in the Kalmis area.'

'You must tell me about Brant. How did he manage to break out of prison and into a high security Phasewave base?'

'First tell me what you think about Brant.'

'If I'm honest, I think that Brant is the alien. Am I right?'

Jenna looked at Declan for a long time before answering. 'You are partly correct. You will guess the rest in due course, but you need to be aware that the presence of the alien has no physical limitations. It is in the base equipment on Bouron, and it came to Vennica inside Brant. By now, it is certainly in the prison and Phasewave security systems. At the beginning, it killed the first crewmembers by accident when it transferred too much energy into them and practically fried their brains, but by the time it entered Brant, it was beginning to understand what it was doing wrong, and the first thing it did was to copy his memory, thinking that was central to human existence. When Brant died, the alien realized that it was on the wrong track but quickly worked out that it could rebuild Brant's body using Brant's own DNA. That is why Brant's lifeless body was jerking and twitching so much – the alien was stimulating his nervous system. It had to work quickly because when Brant died, it could not access a power source and was using up what was left of its own energy. After it had regenerated Brant's organs and started his lungs and heart, it rapidly accelerated the process before Brant's body rotted beyond recovery, and when he became self-supporting, the alien gave him back his memory. Although Brant did not seem to be very well at first, he actually had the internal organs of a younger person, and even if he was a bit absent-minded, he was still the same person with the same personality, more or less. Now that Brant has accessed the Kalmis Phasewave base, I think it is almost certain that the alien will be installed in the Phasewave units.'

'What's so special about the Phasewaves?'

'The alien cannot survive without a reliable source of power, and in that respect, the most reliable source of power available is in the Phasewave system because all the units are linked together by their sub-drives, which are fail-safe. Of equal importance, once the alien has become established in the system, it will be able to travel throughout the universe at its leisure.'

'To what end?'

'All I can tell you right now is that the alien has its purpose. However, I can tell you that Brant has not lost his memory; it has just shut down. Can you help me visit the Phasewave base?'

'You talk as if we are free to come and go as we please,' Declan said, 'but right now we are in a bad place. Gil is pessimistic about the Company allowing any visits, but we will soon be back in Kalmis, and I will try to persuade Gil to put pressure on the Company.'

'Well, do try to think of something because we won't be able to move on until I can confirm that the alien is in the Phasewave system.'

'Do you actually believe that you will be able to contact the alien?'

'If it is in a Phasewave machine, I will be able to make contact, but if Brant didn't manage to transfer the alien into the machine, I don't know what else we can do other than try to get in touch with him in whichever hospital he is being held.'

Declan laid back and tried to collect his churning thoughts. Jenna had answered most of his questions about the alien, and he felt that he was now getting closer to the truth. Then he recalled Jenna promising him he that was going to meet the alien, and, while trying to stifle any speculation, for the first time began to believe that something very profound was about to happen in his life.

Milo and Glen stared at each other. Eventually, Glen said, 'Well, there's a turn-up for the books.'

Milo thoughtfully considered what they had just heard. 'It's amazing what people come out with when they think no one's listening, but I was not expecting to hear that.'

'I was more surprised to hear what Jenna said about Goldman,' Glen said. 'What's your impression of him?'

'There's something of the night in Goldman; the man has a mean temper and a worse reputation. Everyone knows that he has arrangements with big businesses on Vennica, and I believe he would probably go the distance to protect those relationships.'

'I'm beginning to think that we might be in danger,' Glen said, 'especially if it's discovered that we continued the surveillance after being told to pull it.'

'When Gil finally made contact today,' Milo said, 'I was careful to give the impression that we had shut down the surveillance as requested, just in case Slater's crew was still listening in. However, you are right; there is no point in putting ourselves at risk until after we've left Plano. Once we reach Kalmis, we can work out what to do with the latest recordings. We now obviously know a lot more than we did, but I still think we're not getting the whole story. Although Gil appears to be back in control, I think we can assume that Slater and Jarvine had other things in mind when they hijacked the case, and they may still retain an agenda.'

'Perhaps they took that contract I heard about and planned to kill Jenna and Declan.'

'It's possible that they did. In which case, with five million dollars at stake, I think we are definitely in danger and need to protect ourselves. What a mess.' Milo got to his feet and walked out of the room. When he returned he was carrying a handgun.

'You never cease to amaze me,' Glen said. 'When did this gun thing start?'

'The moment I stopped trusting people who smiled at me.'

'I suppose it's licensed and everything?'

'That would be highly unlikely. Please don't ask me if I've ever used it. Changing the subject, I don't think anything will happen before dawn, but to be on the safe side, I suggest we hide out somewhere else tonight until the transport comes to pick us up in the morning. That way we can check who is on it before showing ourselves. Declan and Jenna will still be here, so I'd like to leave a couple of remote recorders running for another day or so in order to monitor anything that happens after we've left.'

'There must be something we can do to help Jenna and Declan.'

'I don't think there is. Gil plans to come and pick them up tomorrow, and they should be a lot safer once they are back in Kalmis. We also need to decide what to do about these latest recordings; I don't know what Gil will make of them, but I think we need a discreet word with him before taking any action.'

'We seem to be relying a lot on Gil, who has already been taken off the case once. Doesn't Moran deputize for Gil? Can we share our concerns with him?'

'Moran's a safe bet, but I don't want to contact him directly. There's a general view nowadays that the communication lines into the HQ building are no longer secure, and I think we must assume that other parties, such as Slater, have had access to everything recorded by the surveillance and by direct communications. Fortunately, we were already streaming the latest inputs to your apartment, so there shouldn't be any leaks. Considering the content of what we've just been listening to, that's probably just as well.'

'What's your view on the alien?'

'I can't get too excited about that business. Clearly, something out of the ordinary took place on Bouron, and if Brant is carrying the alien, now's the time for him to call in a favour, but first let's do a reality check. We don't know for sure that Jenna was telling the truth, and even if she was, Brant and the alien are not on our radar. We think that Slater may be carrying out a contract, but have no evidence of that, or even if there is a contract in existence. What would we do if someone were to turn up right now to collect Jenna and Declan? We are only assuming that they, and possibly ourselves, are in danger.'

'I think you're right, but we need to be careful. Where do you think we should move to?'

'There's a caretaker's accommodation in the back section of the adjoining apartment block. If Slater is intercepting our transmissions, he will have discovered that, as far as he was concerned, the surveillance ceased as soon as we received the instruction from his Operations. In that case, he will be unlikely to worry too much about us, especially if our pick-up in the morning is still on schedule. When they arrive, they will be looking for a quick in-and-out, and if they do come looking for us ....' Milo picked up his gun and checked the magazine. 'I'm quite prepared to put a bullet through Slater's ugly head.'

'You really are the man of the moment,' Glen quipped.

'Let's just say that, come the time, I intend to exceed your low expectations,' Milo said, with a grin. 'I'll pack up the equipment in this room, so if anyone looks in, it will appear that we've terminated the surveillance. After we've moved next door, I'll hook up a radio link to the remaining sensors so that we can see who's coming and going. Are you okay with that?'

Glen laughed. 'I'm fine. I just can't wait to see you sleeping with your cannon under the pillow.'

'I hope we won't need it. I think we've had enough surprises for one night.'

#####  Chapter Fifteen

'Are you awake?'

Milo rolled over in bed and grunted. Fifty per cent awake, he thought.

'I want to talk to you.'

Milo opened his eyes and found Glen staring at him from across the pillow. Seventy per cent awake. He knew what was coming next. Why did inquest always follow intimacy? Was it was worth it? It certainly was. Ninety per cent awake and climbing.

'A little bird spoke to me.'

Here it comes – wide-awake now.

'You've been going to that pick-up joint again, haven't you?'

It was a well-worn track. 'No, not really,' he said, 'and I keep telling you it's not a pick-up joint.'

'Yes you have; you were seen there last month.'

Milo reached out and switched the light on. He climbed out of bed and returned with two glasses of water. 'Okay, it was me. I admit it and would like another fifty offences taken into consideration.'

'Why do you go there? It's full of drunks, escorts, predatory women on the prowl, and who knows what else. What do you see in that?'

Milo thought for a moment. 'You've just about covered all the reasons for going there. Do you have a problem with any of them in particular?'

'If you're not prepared to listen, I don't think there's any point in pursuing this conversation any further.'

'Okay,' Milo said. 'Since you are so concerned about my bad habits, I've been out of circulation on Spaceport for the last three months, and I've had a really bad time. I think I suffered some kind of crisis.'

'What went wrong on Spaceport?'

'Imagine thousands of people living inside cramped metal containers: no windows and constant noise, whistling air supplies and pumping fluids, the grind of machinery and the constant stench of communal toilets. However, it was mixing with the kind of people who live there that really got me down. When I got back to Vennica, I had to burn all my clothes to get rid of the smell. I became depressed, and the apartment was so empty that I couldn't stay in it on my own. I kept thinking of all those lonely people with nowhere to go and no hope for the future. Take Declan and Jenna, for example – what a couple of losers. Declan would rather spend the rest of his life in the backside of space than set one foot on Vennica, and Jenna is a just a reject from the Colonies, complete with that "life was so wonderful in the Colonies" attitude.'

'Until they were blown out of existence by another of those "wonderful" Colonies,' Glen said. 'I think Jenna got it in one when she said that people like Declan were bred to kill people like her.'

'I agree with you. When I got back from Spaceport, it dawned on me what a pointless life I've been leading, and as a result, I drifted back to the bar again. At least there you meet people who are doing things and want to get a sense of achievement out of life, people who are actually enjoying themselves.'

'Isn't this the point where you tell me that you tried to hang yourself but the rope broke?' Glen asked. 'I could have sorted out your problems. That's what friends do; you should have called me.'

'I couldn't impose on you; it was something I had to work through on my own.' Milo turned and looked Glen in the eye. 'Why don't we try to make a go of it again? Let's move in together.'

Glen stiffened. 'Not so fast.'

'You sound like Jenna,' Milo said. 'She always says that when Declan asks the money question. But what have you got against it?'

'We've done this before,' Glen said. 'In fact, we've done it several times, none of which worked for us. What makes you think it will be different this time?'

'You might find I'm a changed person.'

'Let me think about it,' Glen said. 'Right now I lead an uncomplicated life and have no intention of rushing into another relationship. I think I understand where you are coming from because when I started working for the Department, I genuinely thought that I could help our clients, but all I get are the women and children cases, and I encounter nothing but grief and misery all day long. My way of coping with that is mentally to close a door when I leave work, and that door stays closed all the time I lead my private life. I'm used to being on my own, so this will probably be our last chance to be together again. I'm going to have to give it some serious thought before making a decision; don't get excited.'

'I'll wait for as long as it takes,' Milo said. 'I just have a conviction that we both deserve to get more out of our lives. Take this alien business. If an alien has actually visited us, shouldn't humankind be going out of its way to seek it out and say hello. Why aren't people queuing to meet it instead of treating it like a stain on a rug? We could be on the verge of the greatest discovery ever, yet here we are hiding out in a cave, while it looks like people who are supposed to be working with us are lining up to kill Declan and Jenna.'

'The difference between you and me is that I want to see a return from what I'm doing,' Glen said. 'I do get something back from what I do, even though it isn't very much, but you don't, and you never will if you stay committed to the type of work you're doing. You need to be on the outside looking in, and you don't seem able to make that separation.'

Milo took a deep breath and lay back in bed. 'I guess you're right. I know we can always look back and say, "what if?", but I still feel there is something left in me, some achievement to be made before it's too late: one last challenge.'

'In olden days you would have been called a dreamer, but I don't know what the modern terminology for that state is.'

'Well, whatever you're doing is keeping you saner than me,' Milo said.

'Don't get me wrong. I'm not getting at you; it's just that I'm very much aware that in the big picture, we're not here for long and being wound up about the Justice Department and the Phasewave Company is a total waste of space and time. You and I are never going to be in a position to change what happens to us. In a few days' time Jenna and Declan will be out of our lives, probably forever, and we will simply move on to pick up the wreckage of some other peoples' lives and go through this whole pointless exercise again.'

'I think you're right; I'm expecting too much.'

Glen lay in the silence and thought about what Milo had said. After a while, she spoke again. 'Don't take any notice of me. I think there could well be something left for you in this life. You are different from other men; you are a giant compared to your contemporaries. People automatically listen to you and respect you, but I spend my whole life worrying about things that never happen. I always see the worst in situations, which is probably why I never take things seriously. Who knows what your destiny will be? All I know is that it probably won't involve me.'

'That would be a shame. I always think of having you near me, even when we're apart.'

'And I'll always be there for you,' Glen said, reaching out and holding his hand. They lay together in silence for a few minutes, and then Glen said, 'I've been wondering about Brant. Do you believe this contract we've been talking about includes him?'

'I don't understand anything about Brant, let alone the fact that, by all accounts, Brant was different from the rest of us by starting off dead and then being rebuilt or reborn or whatever.'

'More like recycled,' Glen interrupted. 'In fact, it's a bit like watching a movie backwards.'

'That sounds about right, and when Brant returns to Vennica with Jenna, nobody talks about him. It's as if he doesn't exist, yet in the meantime, he has been walking in and out of prisons and Phasewave bases as he pleases.'

'And conveniently forgetting his memory,' Glen added, 'or should I say that it just shut down. If Brant is the alien, why is nobody paying attention to him? I agree with you – it doesn't make sense. Maybe the powers that be felt that it would be easier to concentrate on Jenna to find out what they wanted.'

'The investigators probably would have expected Jenna to break before Brant, but we could now have a world-first on our doorstep, and it already appears to have hit the end of the line.'

'I think a stain on a rug would be more appropriate.'

'What are your thoughts on this?' Milo asked. 'Do you really think that Brant brought the alien back with him?'

'If I'm being honest, I'm not certain. I have to say I'm still struggling to accept Jenna's latest version of events. Whichever way you look at it, there's a complete lack of evidence to back up anything she has said, and she has given no indication whatsoever about the alien's intentions. While we're still on the subject of aliens, have you wondered how Brant allegedly transmitted the alien into the Phasewave machine?'

'I'm not well versed in these matters, but rumour has it that there are two ways, and I'm trying hard not to think of one of them.'

'It had to be the tongue,' Glen said. 'The shock probably caused his memory loss, but it obviously wasn't fatal.'

'Oh, please. Trust you to attach a sexual connotation. We were having a serious discussion about the presence of an alien.'

'You were; I wasn't,' Glen said. She ran her hand under the covers until she was holding his sex. 'You forget that I'm irreverent.'

Milo gasped. 'Sorry, cold hands.' He gently cupped her face and held it close to his own. 'I'll make you an offer. If you can convince me that you're not an alien, my body's yours for the taking.'

'According to Jenna, I'm full of myself,' Glen said, 'although I do have the ability to regenerate a human organ. This one seems to be responding quite nicely.'

'That's because it's an independent life form.'

'I can see you're into this alien sex thing.'

'How does that work?' Milo asked. 'Let me guess – you're the host and I have to expand into your dynamic environment.'

'I hadn't considered that,' Glen said. 'Don't forget that there's a downside to alien sex: you can have as much sex as you want, but you have to remain invisible.'

Milo started to laugh uncontrollably and Glen pushed a pillow into his face. 'Be quiet,' she whispered. 'You'll wake the neighbours.'

Eventually Milo stopped laughing and pulled the pillow from his face. 'Excuse me. I think I've been out here too long.'

'I wish I hadn't started this,' Glen said. 'Why don't we try to get some sleep?'

'Hang on a moment.' Milo sat up in bed and carefully examined the room before flopping back onto the pillow and turning out the lights.

'What was all that about?' Glen asked. 'Were you looking for your cannon?'

'I think you were just holding my cannon. Actually, I was checking the monitors to see if there were any of those annoying dots of light looking at us. Now, where were we?'

'We were about to go to sleep.'

'The night is young. How adventurous are you feeling?'

'Right now, I'm feeling particularly unadventurous,' Glen replied.

'Jenna also mentioned something about thin and sensitive membranes. That sounds more like it. Perhaps we could do a private investigation of our own.'

'I've only got one thing to say to you.'

'What's that?'

'Not so fast!'

Declan and Jenna stood on their balcony and watched a transporter lift off from outside the apartment. It turned and slowly made its way down a valley, staying below cloud before briefly emerging into the morning sunlight over a flat plain. The sound of its turbine exhausts echoed off the valley walls as it increased power for the climb away from the mountains.

'No fond farewell for us then,' Jenna commented. 'I wish we were leaving with them. Without the presence of the support team, I feel like we're a sitting target.'

'I would have liked us to be on that transporter too,' Declan said. 'At least Gil is back in charge now, and we have to work out what we are going to say to him when he turns up to collect us.'

'Are you going to let him know about what I told you last night?'

'Not unless you want me to. Anything you said was between you and me and is off the record. I don't think it's going to change anything, so I have no plans to bring it up with Gil.'

'It feels strange to be totally on our own,' Jenna said. 'What are we going to do with the rest of the day?'

'Now the excitement is over, it will be nice to spend a peaceful day together. Let's walk over to that restaurant again and have lunch on Gil.'

Dusk was rapidly falling when, later that evening the sound of turbine engines disturbed the silence of the resort. Declan stood outside his apartment and apprehensively watched as a cruiser approached, still mindful that it might be carrying Slater and Jarvine. The cruiser came to a halt, the door opened, and Gil stepped out, much to Declan's relief.

'Sorry I'm late,' Gil said. 'I've spent most of the day working with Internal Security; they've checked all the incoming communications lines into the headquarters and have confirmed that they have been bugged. Would you believe that there was even a dedicated listening room inside the building? For all these years, we've taken it for granted that we could use the lines openly. Marvellous, isn't it? Come inside the cruiser to talk; at least I can guarantee that this area is clean.'

Declan entered the cruiser and sat in the cabin with Gil. 'The support team got away this morning,' he said. 'We're the only ones left.'

'What's new then?' Gil asked.

'There's nothing new, and I think we have covered just about everything. Before we go any further, can I ask you where Brant is?'

'He's in a prison hospital. I know it appears suspicious, but the medics have confirmed that he really has had a memory failure. They've given him a brain scan which revealed few signs of mental activity.'

'Why did he visit the Phasewave?'

'Nobody knows. Nothing was touched or disturbed. It's another of those events for which there is no explanation.'

'After looking at all our recordings, are we any further on?'

'No,' Gil said. 'I'm really sorry to have dragged you into this, but it seemed like a good solution when I first thought about bringing you in. Behind the scenes, Slater has been trying to take over the case, and Goldman has been diverting me to run his errands. I don't trust either of them.'

'Jenna told me last night that she brought back videos and a diary, evidence which proved her claim.'

'She's maintained that from the beginning,' Gil said. 'I've tried my utmost to find out what happened to that evidence, and now the Phasewave Company has shut like a clam. I've been informed that they will only talk to me through their lawyers, despite this being an official enquiry.'

'Are you absolutely sure there is nothing you can use?'

'There's nothing I can repeat to the Security Council. I think that this case is finished. It certainly wasn't for lack of effort, and I now need to take Jenna back into custody for her own protection. Did she say anything else?'

'Not that would help you,' Declan replied.

Gil thought for a moment. 'In which case we've nothing to lose; let's visit the Phasewave base and see what Jenna can come up with.'

'Are you serious? I thought you were against the idea; why did you change your mind?'

'I've been thinking a lot since our last conversation. It wasn't so much what Jenna said, but the more I look at Brant the more I'm convinced that there is something amiss. I mean, nobody has ever penetrated a prison security system before, let alone a Phasewave installation, so he must have exceptional skills and a very good reason for doing that. I'm also sick and tired of the Phasewave crowd and their bullying lawyers. I've bypassed the Law Lords and found a sympathetic judge, and first thing tomorrow, Moran will obtain warrants to enter the Phasewave compound. I'm also going to ask Milo to come with us; he's handy to have around in a confrontation.'

'I think that's the best thing we can do. It might put this whole affair to rest, but what happens if we don't find the alien?'

'I've already burnt my bridges by side-lining the Law Lords, so there's no turning back for me. I'm committed up to the hilt. We have to find out why Brant entered the Phasewave installation. Let's go and talk to Jenna and see if she can shed some light on it.'

Declan hesitated for a moment, torn with indecision. He quickly realised he now needed to reveal some of Jenna's revelations from the previous evening. 'I know why Brant went to the Phasewave.'

Gil looked at Declan suspiciously. 'What do you mean? Is there something you haven't been telling me?'

Declan met Gil's accusing stare. He was about to reply when the cabin filled with bright light and the scream of a turbine. Gil opened the door and jumped out. Declan followed him and saw the landing lights of another cruiser approach the hardstanding.

'What's all this about?' Gil said. 'Plano is closed to the public.'

A cloud of dust drifted by as a landing cruiser touched down and slid to a halt next to them. Its door opened, revealing an unwelcome sight. Slater and Jarvine left the cruiser and ran over to where they were standing.

'You're off the case again,' Slater said, thrusting a handful of papers at Gil. 'Move out, and don't come back.'

'This was resolved earlier today. I'm in charge here.'

'Looks like your friends hung you out to dry, old man,' Slater said sarcastically. 'Jarvine, go and get Jenna.'

'Wait,' Declan said. 'There's no need to involve Jenna. I know everything; we can sort this out between us.'

'Back off, Slater,' Gil said. 'I have executive power and can override anything you intend to do. Jarvine, keep away from that apartment.'

Slater's hand made a quick movement, and the next moment a gun was pointing at Gil's face. 'Get wise. This isn't your problem anymore.'

'You don't scare me,' Gil said. 'Declan, go and lock yourself inside the apartment with Jenna. I'm going to call for help.'

'Maybe this will help,' Slater said, stepping forward and striking Gil a glancing blow across the side of his head. Gil slumped, unconscious, to the ground.

Declan saw the blood running down Gil's face. With a roar of rage, he flew at Slater and seized him by the throat with both hands. Caught off guard by the ferocity of the onslaught, Slater lost his balance and fell back against the cruiser where Declan continued to shake him violently, at each stroke cracking Slater's head against its metal hull. 'You bastard!' he shouted.

Slater began to slide down the hull as he lost consciousness, but Declan could not contain the pressure accumulated over years of frustration and continued to slam him against the side of the cruiser, experiencing a sense of unholy joy when Slater finally crumpled to his knees. Declan's elation, however, was cut short when he was sent reeling by a violent blow to the back of his neck and collapsed on top of his adversary.

Pain stabbed into Declan's chest and jolted him back to consciousness. He peered up into the half-light and saw the boot withdraw for another kick.

'That's enough.' The voice belonged to Slater, but Declan could not work out where it came from. A dull ache in his neck restricted any head movement, and he found that his arms were secured behind his back.

'Leave him alone,' Jenna said. Someone with a stronger grip hauled Declan up onto a seat. He groggily looked around the cruiser's cabin. Jenna sat beside him, clutching him tightly, while Jarvine and Slater, both looking noticeably hostile, glared at him from the other side of the carriage. The blood stained cloth that Slater was holding to his head revived memories of the incident at the cruiser.

'Where's Gil?' Declan demanded. 'What have you done to him?'

'Who cares,' Jarvine said.

'You're going to regret doing this,' Slater said, picking dried blood from between his fingers. 'No one takes me out and gets away with it, especially a clown like you.'

Declan turned to Jenna. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm okay,' she replied, although her face looked almost opaque under the dim lighting.

'Cut the talking,' Jarvine said. 'We've heard enough from you two already.'

'Where are you taking us?' Declan asked.

Slater leaned forward, lifted Declan from his seat and hurled him against the seat back, knocking the breath from his lungs. 'You don't get it, do you? We don't like the sound of your voice.'

The cruiser levelled off and picked up speed. Declan slowly regained control of his breathing and looked out through the windows. Mountain peaks passed below, white in the moonlight, but none of the visible features were recognizable. Jenna gave Declan's arm a comforting squeeze, and they continued in silence while he frantically tried to determine the purpose of the journey.

Slater eventually broke the silence. 'You really are a couple of sad cases. If it's aliens we're looking for, you two fit the bill perfectly – you're out of this world.'

'A kid wouldn't fall for a story like yours,' Jarvine added. 'All that crap about people disappearing was just something you dreamt up between you.'

Declan stared coldly at the two men opposite and remained silent. After a while, Jarvine stifled a chuckle, as if trying to control his mirth at some private joke.

'What's so funny?' Slater asked.

Jarvine composed himself. 'Nothing, just something I overheard.' He choked back another laugh. 'It's a poem which could have been written for these two.'

Slater appeared to be surprised. 'You've been reading poetry? This I have to hear. Hit me with it.'

'Okay. It's something I picked up the other day; it's about dreams.' Jarvine looked almost embarrassed, and Declan had a horrible premonition that he knew what was coming next. 'Here it is, "The end of our dreams is the end of our lives".'

Declan froze. Slater must have been listening in on the transmissions all along!

'That sure is beautiful,' Slater said. 'I bet there's a whole load more where that came from.'

'You're right, and it's all here in this little box.' Jarvine switched on a pocket recorder, and Declan heard Jenna's voice coming from the speaker. He recalled what he and Jenna had said and done together, and a deep, burning shame rose through his body.

Two voices mingled in conversation: 'That's interesting. Do you know any more? I can't remember. The eyes are the mirrors of life. Yes, it's coming back. The poem is about restless souls looking out through the mirrors of their eyes'.

Jarvine clicked off the recorder.

'Looks like Declan's got hidden talents,' Slater said. 'I've never thought of him as a poet, let alone a restless soul.'

'Then you're in for a surprise. There's something else in here about restless souls. You'll like this.'

Jenna sat with her hand almost cutting into the flesh of Declan's arm, while the metallic tone of the recorder again filled the cabin. At first Declan could not identify the disjointed noises, and then he recognized the intimate sounds of his lovemaking with Jenna. No longer able to contain his anguish, he launched his body headfirst at Jarvine, but Slater effortlessly caught him and threw him back into his seat. The recording seemed to play on forever.

'What was that all about?' Slater asked, after it had finished. 'What were those funny, humping noises?'

'Humping, I guess,' Jarvine said.

'Well, it was tastefully done,' Slater said. 'I particularly liked the moaning bit at the end. Is that the bit you liked, Jenna?'

'You're sick,' Jenna said. 'Is this how you get your kicks? Can't you do sex yourselves?'

'That's good, coming from a slut like you,' Jarvine said. 'Anyone who wants to screw Declan must be really desperate.'

'I feel sorry for both of you,' Jenna interrupted. 'You ought to get help.'

'Spare your feelings.' Slater glanced slyly at Jarvine. 'After all, there must be worse things than being screwed by Declan.'

'That's kind of hard to imagine,' Jarvine said. 'What could be worse? You mean like getting it off with an animal?'

'Well, it's something along those lines. Try this for size: how about having sex with an alien?'

Declan felt as if his body had become frozen.

Jarvine wound on the recorder. 'That's a really bad thought. Let's see if I've got anything in here about it.'

The recorder again whirred into life, and, through a barrier of mental pain, Declan again listened to his own voice, this time talking to Gil. 'There is no Brant, only an alien life form that has taken on his physical characteristics .... Brant formed a relationship with Jenna, and she fell in love for the first time ... that's why I can't say anything ... how can I tell Jenna that she's taken an alien for her partner?'

Silence again filled the cabin. 'Alien, my ass,' Slater said.'

Declan and Jenna exchanged glances but remained silent.

Eventually Jarvine spoke. 'What if this did happen? Would there be anything in it for us?'

'Dream on,' Slater replied. 'That woman is a compulsive liar; she'll tell you anything. Screw an alien? You must be joking.'

Jarvine grabbed Jenna by her coat and jerked her towards him. 'Lie to me, would you? I'll give you some screwing to remember.'

'Put her down,' Slater said. 'You don't know what you might catch.'

Jarvine dropped Jenna back onto the seat in disgust, and the journey continued in an uneasy silence while the two men opposite sat and pointedly ignored their captives.

Jenna moved her grip on Declan's arm, and he experienced a feeling of intense compassion towards her. No matter what she had become involved in, Jenna still needed his protection. The cruiser nosed into a shallow descent, and Declan looked outside again to see that the mountains had given way to a flat, featureless plain. Jenna nudged him and pointed through a window on the other side of the carriage to where an approaching pattern of lights spread out across the plain. Under the bright moonlight, large, distinctive structures thrust upwards, as if to snap at something in the sky above. Like the gaping maws of hideous wild animals, Declan recalled and knew where they were heading.

'That's a Phasewave base,' Jenna said, unnecessarily.

#####  Chapter Sixteen

Kalmis – two years later

Glen entered Milo's apartment and looked around in mock amazement. 'What's the occasion? You're a man; you're not supposed to keep your place this tidy.'

'A tidy house means a tidy mind,' Milo said. 'I've always appreciated a nice place to live in, but it's been so long since you were last here that you've probably forgotten. As always, it's a pleasure to see you, and thank you for coming round at short notice.'

'How could I possibly refuse? You know that aliens are my favourite subject.'

'I'm sorry to bring all this up again, but I need some serious help.'

'From my limited experience with aliens, I believe that to be true.' Glen dumped the pile of files she was carrying onto a table. 'How did this come up after two years lying dormant?'

'You can blame the media for that; they feel that they have been kept in the dark and have put pressure on the government to come clean.'

'I thought everything had been resolved.'

'Apparently they weren't. As far as the media is concerned, aliens have a short shelf life, particularly when they are invisible, so after the case closed down, the alien affair became portrayed as a hoax and it faded from sight. However, since then other reports have surfaced which have roused the media's curiosity, particularly allegations that two Law Lords influenced the outcome of the case under the instructions of the Phasewave Company and were involved in a payment of two and a half million dollars to Slater, the senior Security Service agent who was interfering in the case. By the way, the two Law Lords in question – Correy and Goldman – have since disappeared and are believed to have left Vennica.'

'So what are you doing now?'

'Moran, who took over the Justice Department when Gil was promoted to Law Lord in place of Goldman, has been tasked with preparing a presentation to the press and media denying any attempted cover-ups by the authorities and explaining and putting to bed once and for all this whole alien saga, including the alleged threat of an imminent Colonial invasion. Moran was not involved in the original case, and he has asked me to do the presentation, which is taking place tomorrow afternoon. You and I are the only people alive who know what happened after that alien came here from Bouron.'

'That's a tall order,' Glen said. 'I have looked through all the information you gave me in these files, and all it has done is to raise more questions than answers; I found nothing in it that you could use as evidence, and the last time we did this, we conclusively proved that telling the truth was out of bounds. Do you have anything to add to what you gave me?'

'Not really. I thought if we sat down and went through it all again we might be able to produce something for public consumption.'

'Providing it isn't the truth,' Glen added.

'Unfortunately, that seems to be a given nowadays. I'm only a bit more up to date than you, but why don't you start the ball rolling.'

'Certainly.' Glen pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to Milo. 'First of all, I found this tucked inside a file.'

Milo took the paper. 'Ah. This is one of Jenna's illustrations; it must have inadvertently become mixed up with the files. There are dozens of these, and I'll go through them with you later – I'm afraid some of them are really gruesome.'

Glen retrieved the drawing and examined it closely. 'This looks like a photograph. Did Jenna actually draw it?'

'That's my understanding. Gil provided Jenna with drawing materials and she told Declan that she used to draw from memory when she could not sleep at night.'

Glen stared at the picture of a young man and a woman sat intimately on a sofa. She immediately recognized Jenna and presumed that the man next to her was Brant. 'The definition in this picture is exceptional; it looks as if she has traced it from a photograph.'

'She had no access to anything other than her drawing materials. After she left prison, over fifty drawings like that one were found in her cases, which she had left behind.'

'It must have taken a remarkable talent to do that.'

'She told Declan that she had a photographic memory'

Glen returned the drawing to Milo. 'You had better put this back in with the others. Moving forward, I have some questions to ask about what happened to Declan and Jenna when they were taken to the Phasewave base.'

''There's no point in re-opening that line of enquiry. I was involved in the wash-up with Moran and we both agreed on the findings.'

'I read about that in the files,' Glen said, 'and those findings had more holes in them than a sieve. A child would not have been taken in by them.'

'That may be your opinion,' Milo said, 'but don't forget that Jenna and Declan both confirmed those events, and they would have had no reason to lie: they were the injured parties.'

'Going back then to when we left Plano, we returned to my apartment and found video of Gil being attacked and Declan and Jenna being taken away by Slater and Jarvine in a cruiser. Air Defence tracked the cruiser heading to the Kalmis Phasewave base, where we assume that Slater intended to execute their captives inside Phasewave Unit Four, presumably to make it look like an accident involving the Phasewave. However, the opposite happened. Armed with a handgun and an electronic prod, the two agents ended up dead while the two unarmed captives, one of whom had his arms tied behind his back, survived. If that version of events doesn't sound alarm bells, what would?'

'I know where you are coming from, but our findings were the only explanation that fitted the scene.'

'Can you really explain how Slater fell and accidentally shot himself in the chest?'

'So far, the result of that investigation is probably the only documented evidence I can produce; I can't see the point of revisiting that subject.'

'Okay, then let's continue. After Jenna was rescued from the Phasewave, she is held in custody awaiting a pardon. Declan visits Jenna while she is in custody, and, despite the fact that she has just been informed that she is about to be released, she walks out of the prison, accompanied by Declan, without attracting anyone's attention. The two of them meet up with Brant, who has also mysteriously walked undetected out of a prison hospital, and the three of them break into a Phasewave base. The next day, their dead bodies are found lying next to Phasewave machine Unit Four. The autopsies revealed no causes of death, and the coroner noted that Brant had the internal organs of a much younger person. My question is: what was their purpose in visiting the Phasewave, and what was so vital that it could not wait until Jenna was officially released from custody?'

'On the recordings we made, Jenna indicated that Brant had previously accessed the Phasewave base in order to install the alien, which is why she was desperate to visit the base. Ironically, Slater then made that possible. As to why the three of them chose to die in a manner nobody can explain, I have no idea.'

'What happened to the bodies afterwards?'

'They were incinerated by order of the Justice Department,' Milo said. 'That was within the Department's remit because the causes of death remained unconfirmed, and there was a possibility of an alien contact. Under those circumstances, the bodies could be destroyed if it was deemed that there was any risk of contamination.'

'Then next on my list is Gil's suicide, which seems to have attracted very little attention at the time.'

'After Gil was promoted to Law Lord in Goldman's place, I had very little contact with him. A year later, his partner died of natural causes, and he more or less dropped out of sight.'

'I understand that before he died, Gil made a recording that was made public in the press.'

'Yes. One of Gil's relatives found the recording when he was sorting out Gil's affairs after his death, but instead of handing it to the authorities, he sold it to a news outlet.'

'According to media reports, Gil made some very controversial claims,' Glen said.

'I know. In that recording, Gil gave his account of the alien story. He also said he had met Declan in the flesh and found out that Declan, Jenna, Brant and the alien had travelled to Scion3.'

'Isn't that where Declan came from before he took this investigation?' Glen asked. 'What were they doing there?'

'According to Gil, their intention was to create an alternative, peaceful human race in order to prevent humankind from self-destruction. Apparently, after they had arrived on Scion3, the alien intercepted numerous encoded communications transmissions that indicated that an alliance of the Old and New Colonies was planning an attack on Vennica. They then abandoned their original plan to create a new race and worked out a way to prevent the attack on Vennica. Unfortunately, Gil did not specify what that would entail.'

'Is any of it true?'

'In view of Gil's suicide shortly after the recording was made, his claims were generally considered to be caused by a period of severe depression and were largely ignored.'

'Is there anything on the colonial invasion?'

'External Security is still on full alert, but there are no signs of anything heading our way. The Diplomatic Forum has no knowledge of any particular rumblings from the Colonies other than the ongoing tax saga.'

'You said you have more of Jenna's illustrations; can I see them?'

Milo produced a large folder and started to pull out numerous drawings. Glen took some of the drawings and started to look through them. She gasped. 'These are incredible; it's like watching a documentary.'

'Everyone is there: Brant, Goldman, Jenna, even Vance.'

'Oh, God!' Glen had discovered the tracker scenes and the drawing of the severed heads.

'I don't think Jenna could have made these up because they all tie in together. Look at this one.' Milo pulled out a drawing of Declan in bed asleep.

'She's very good.' Glen stared hard at a drawing of Brant's body lying on a bed with strips of blackened flesh hanging from his arms. 'I still don't understand how she could be so accurate when drawing from memory, especially after all that time. Now, all of this leads me to our friend Brant, and what part he played.' Glen held the drawing of Brant in her hands. 'When I saw the first of these, I immediately thought that they could not have been produced from memory. I have now changed my view, but I don't think that they came from Jenna's memory, I think that they were produced from an alien memory.'

'You mean Jenna had the alien in her?'

'If I had seen these drawings earlier, I might have twigged what was happening. We both accept that Brant had the alien in him, and Jenna told Declan that the alien could transfer between humans via tongue contact or sexual intercourse. Brant and Jenna were lovers, and it appears to me to be obvious that he had transferred the alien to her some time prior to their return to Vennica.'

'I hadn't considered that,' Milo said. 'Are you certain?'

'I'm not certain of anything in this case,' Glen said, 'but if Jenna was harbouring the alien, it would probably have been passed on to Declan.'

'That would be a game-changer.'

'Unfortunately, I don't think any of this is going to help you with your presentation,' Glen said. 'If Jenna did have the alien, however, it could resolve some of the anomalies in the story so far.'

'In what way?'

'Let's go back to the killings in the Phasewave. Assuming that Slater did not trip up and accidentally shoot himself through the heart, then if he had already killed Jarvine, and Declan had his arms tied behind his back, the only person who could have been responsible for Slater's death is Jenna.'

'That would have been impossible; she was half his size.'

'But it might not have been impossible if Jenna had some assistance; I think that carrying an alien might also provide some physical advantages. It's not inconceivable that she might have been able to force Slater to fire his gun.'

'That is a stretch of imagination.'

'Every word Jenna has said has stretched my imagination,' Glen said. 'Let's return to Declan's prison visit. He and Jenna managed to walk out of the prison, passing through locked doors and avoiding all means of detection. The only way that could have happened is either with the collusion of the guards, or they themselves were in control of all the locks and security cameras.'

'I don't think the guards were involved.'

'Neither do I, especially as the same thing happened when Brant left the prison hospital. Then, they all met up at the Kalmis Phasewave base, penetrated the security system and gained unfettered access to Unit Four. The fact that they could do that would indicate to me that they had access to powers beyond human. I think Jenna must have been telling the truth when she informed Declan that the alien had been introduced to the prison and Phasewave security systems and was doing all the necessary work.'

'You could be right; Brant probably used the tongue method to carry out the transfer. What do you think happened after they all died inside the Phasewave unit?'

'I am stumped on that one,' Glen said. 'According to Gil, they had entered the Phasewave system and travelled to Scion3. I simply can't see how they managed to do that.'

'You can't just leave your body and swap it for the inside of a Phasewave,' Milo said.

'Assuming that all three of them were carrying the alien, and that the alien was already established inside the machine, could there have been some kind of exchange between the parties?'

'It sounds highly unlikely to me.'

'I know what you mean, but early on, Jenna talked about some kind of imprint and using it to enter and leave the machine.'

'That genetic imprint thing was just part of Jenna's story,' Milo stressed. 'She herself admitted that she made it up.'

'She actually said that she only made up most of the story. Maybe that bit was true. After all, she must have picked up the idea from somewhere.'

'You are filling in the gaps, but if what you are saying is true, the big question for me is why didn't Jenna call on her alien powers earlier instead of allowing all this to take place?'

'That is a mystery,' Glen said. 'Assuming that we are thinking along the right lines, it would mean that on Bouron, the alien was present inside the machine where it had been created, and it was also present in Jenna and Brant. So why did they not all enter the Phasewave network while they were on Bouron and be done with it, instead of going through all this rigmarole on Vennica?'

Milo thought about it. 'I cannot think of a reason.'

'I take it that the Phasewave machines in Kalmis and Bouron are the same machines,' Glen asked.

'As far as I am aware, they are identical,' Milo said, 'but didn't Declan discuss this subject with Gil on one his private calls?'

'Now I remember. Wasn't he explaining why the alien wanted to assume human form and leave Bouron?'

'Yes, and he said he thought that it would not have been possible to leave Bouron through the Phasewave because the base equipment only relayed incoming data, and the alien would need to find a peripheral Phasewave to access the Intranet.'

'That clarifies everything,' Glen said. 'The alien allowed itself to be transported to Vennica in Jenna and Brant in the hope that at least one of them would be able to access a Phasewave base. Brant feigned memory loss and was put into a prison hospital, but Jenna was detained and interrogated, and once she had been transferred to Plano, she was cut off from all forms of communications. That allowed time for Brant to enter the Phasewave base and transfer the alien into Unit Four.'

'That makes sense,' Milo said.

'It looks like Declan got quite a few things right, despite Jenna's attempt to confuse the issues. It's a pity that Gil was unable to use any of his inputs.'

'I think we have now worked out most of what took place, but I am in the same situation as Gil was: I cannot use any of it in the presentation.'

'Thinking ahead, do you think it possible that they could come back and assume physical form again?'

Milo considered Glen's question for some time before replying. 'From everything we have heard, nothing would suggest that the alien could independently create a human body. If it did have that ability, surely it would have done so already.'

'I only ask that because Jenna earlier claimed that an imprint could be used to change back to a physical state.'

'The alien does appear to have the ability to transfer through the Phasewave machine casing,' Milo said, 'so I suppose it could theoretically enter anyone who touched the machine.'

'What if it carried an imprint with it? Could that imprint then occupy another person's body?'

'It might, but we have no evidence of that occurring,' Milo said.

'When Gil said in his recording that he had met Declan in the flesh, he could have been right, only I think it may have been Declan in someone else's flesh.'

'That is a very sobering thought. What you are saying would the mean that the three of them could appear at any time using the bodies of total strangers.'

'I agree,' Glen said. 'That is a sobering thought, but it is still all speculation.'

Milo got to his feet and walked around the room. He shook his head and laughed. 'Looking back on what we have just discussed, it feels like I have just received what is known as a blinding flash of hindsight. At last, I am beginning to understand what happened, but you're right, it won't help me with my presentation.'

'What do you intend to say tomorrow?'

'The last time Gil made a public statement, he got off lightly, probably because the media felt sorry for him after such an amateur attempt to talk his way out of trouble. This time it's going to be harder, and enough material has already been made public to give them a taste of what to expect.'

'What about the contract on Jenna and Declan? Is there anything there that you can use?'

'That is what sparked the renewed interest in this case. If the media can prove that the Law Lords were involved in that contract, it could divert attention from our case, but I am not counting on it. Further complicating this case is the fact that eleven people associated with it are now deceased or missing, which means that we cannot call on anyone to substantiate what we have discovered.'

'You've been given a tall order. How are you going to take this case forward?'

'I haven't a clue. I still have no way of confirming the existence of an alien or the threat of invasion by the Colonies. Tomorrow's presentation promises to be one of the shortest on record.'

'The media will tear you to pieces.'

'Thanks for that reassurance. I thought I was imagining it.'

The sun was going down later that day when Glen, suffering from an overconsumption of coffee, got to her feet and stretched her legs. Piles of files and documents littered the lounge, and she could hear Milo in the next room talking to someone on his messager. The sight of the clutter filled her with a sinking feeling, and she started to wonder how Milo was going to cope with the impending presentation. The problems were beginning to look insurmountable.

Milo re-joined her. 'This thing gets more and more bizarre,' he said. 'I've just been talking to a contact of mine in the local television network, and he says that they are no longer interested in the alien or the invasion. They are going after the Judiciary and the Phasewave Company.'

'Was any reason given?' Glen asked.

'The media now have bigger fish to catch. They have just uncovered evidence that links Goldman and Corrie to the contract put out on Jenna. Now this bit will really amuse you – the media do not accept that three people could simply lie down and die inside a Phasewave unit; they think that the Security Service murdered them and are now involved in yet another cover-up.'

'You're right, this does get more and more bizarre,' Glen said. 'So, after all the cover-ups so far, they are getting blamed for one that doesn't exist. I love it.'

'I thought you might find a certain irony in that bit of news. The media don't accept any of the autopsy findings on the three bodies, or, more specifically, the lack of findings. They are going to hammer the Security Services, or to be more specific, they are going to hammer me.'

'Are you thinking of pulling out?'

'Until I got that message, I wasn't, but now I think I will go crazy if I try and think about this anymore. Do you know what else I've just found out? The lead story in the press tomorrow is going to be about the moon breaking into pieces and collapsing onto Vennica. For God's sake, how many times have we heard that story before? Competition like that puts into perspective just how important my presentation really is. Let's give this thing a break.'

'Nothing's going to change overnight; we have to keep going until we can cobble up something to appease the press. Just about everything that happened in the alien case is now on the table, so why can't you simply try offering the truth and let the media make of it what they want?'

'We both know what will happen if I present the truth, and I haven't the patience to argue my case through the media. If they have already seen the original investigation material and still don't buy into the alien presence, how else can I possibly explain the deaths of three people in a Phasewave who died in an inexplicable manner? If I do turn up to do the presentation, the media and the press are going to grill me; every word of mine will be challenged, and I am not allowed to say anything that cannot be referenced.'

'You will only be going down the same route as before. Surely some of the media will be curious about what happened in the alien case.'

'They have already had access to all the case records, including ours. If, at the time, we did not believe what we were hearing, why would we expect the media to reach a different conclusion? Jenna's admission that she made up most of her story doesn't help, either; after that admission, I can only see her later version of events being rated as fiction.'

'Are you certain that there is nothing in this colonial invasion threat?'

'There's less information on that than on the alien.'

'If that's the case, what are your options?'

'I think this has now become a pointless exercise,' Milo said. 'Do you know what I am really worried about? I think that if the media drag down the Law Lords and the Security Service, it could signal the end of the Judiciary and leave Vennica without a government.'

'Who would take their place?'

'There's only the military. The Phasewave Company was instrumental in bringing down the last government and spent a lot of money rigging votes to put the Judiciary into power. During that election, the media were side-lined, and it's now payback time, especially if they can confirm a link between the Law Lords and the Phasewave Company.'

'Will the military be able to do any better than the last two governments?'

'Who knows? I think I'm going to kick the ball back into Moran's court and let him and the Law Lords slug it out in public.'

'Moran's not up to speed on this case; what can he contribute?'

'Despite my reservations about Moran, he probably won't be able to add anything to the brief, but he is paid to be head of the Security Service, and this is his shout. I'm going to call him now and tell him where he can put his cover-up.'

'Don't do it. Sleep on it and call him in the morning; something might occur to you overnight.'

'If this was my problem, I'd be more than willing to fall on my sword, but I no longer have any faith in the Security Service or the Security Council or all the cheats, liars and murderers they employ. It's time for the people who caused these problems to stand up and be counted.'

'You've got too close to the situation. Okay, let's take a break. I'll make a deal with you: pack up for the night, and we'll go out for dinner. Then, if you're nice to me, I might let you take me to your sad and lonely pick-up joint and show me why it's so special.'

Milo briefly considered the suggestion. 'That is a truly excellent plan. Are you sure you're broad-minded enough to come with me to the bar?'

'I'll ignore that remark only because I'm feeling sorry for you,' Glen said. 'Before we wrap up, I have one last question.'

'Which is?'

'You said that Gil mentioned that the alien had hit upon another plan to stop an invasion by the Colonies. Have you any idea what that might be?'

'No. I've yet to see anything to indicate that there has ever been a genuine threat of invasion, and as far as I am aware, nobody has had any contact with the alien since it left Kalmis via the Phasewave.' Milo grinned. 'Although I can't guarantee that you're going to meet an alien tonight, when you come to the bar with me you're going to meet some very strange people.'

'I've just reneged on a lifetime's promise not to go into places like that,' Glen said. 'This is a one-off – don't push your luck.'

#####  Chapter Seventeen

Glen savoured her cocktail and looked at the crowd of people gathered in the packed bar. The place was rowdy and heaving, and, whether it was because she had been drinking or because Milo seemed to be enjoying himself so much, she found it was nowhere near as bad as she had feared. She nudged Milo's arm. 'That woman over there keeps smiling at you. What do you think? She looks willing and able.'

'That's Lois, the owner's wife,' Milo said. He gave her a friendly wave across the room.

'I can't believe you actually know people here. Where do they all come from?'

'You never can tell what's going to happen in this place,' Milo said, with a smile. 'You might hook up tonight. Do you want me to choose someone for you?'

'That ship sailed a long time ago; nowadays it's definitely a young woman's game. Excuse me, but I have to go to the cloakroom, and I don't want to find a line of your men friends waiting for me when I return.'

'I'm only trying to help. I'll get some more drinks in.'

A few minutes later, Milo returned from the bar with another round of drinks and re-joined Glen, who looked flushed and excited.

'Are you okay?' Milo asked.

'Give me a drink. You will never believe this, but I've just been propositioned.'

'Are you serious? I told you this could be your lucky night. Who was it?'

Glen pointed out a good-looking man who was talking to two women across the bar from them. 'He must be twenty years younger than me.'

'I'm impressed. Did you order him from a model agency?'

'Who cares?' Glen said. 'He actually hit on me. Now I feel stoked. What a great place this is.'

'I never thought I would hear you say that, or that you would score tonight. What did you say to him?'

'I was caught off-guard and turned him down. This experience has given me a whole lot of new ideas, and I thought I was too old! It's your fault for dragging me down here.' Glen laughed. 'Look, I'm going to have to leave soon, but I'll call round in the morning to make sure you're up and about. Do you want me to stay and get you a cab home? You've had a lot to drink.'

'I'm perfectly all right,' Milo said. 'You go home. I'll finish this off and make my own way back. See you in the morning.'

After Glen had left, Milo sat at the bar taking in the atmosphere and contentedly pondering the events of the day. He had already made up his mind to drop the case, despite the problems it was going to create for Moran in the morning, but he could not think of a credible alternative. In fact, he could not think of any alternative, credible or otherwise. It was while he was contemplating the next day's meeting that he became aware of a woman sitting next to him.

'Buy you a drink?' the stranger asked. She spoke with an accent that was definitely not Vennican.

Milo was surprised. The woman was tall, sophisticated and elegant, not the type he usually encountered in that bar. 'No, please, allow me. It would be my pleasure.'

She smiled. 'You're too gracious, but seriously, I can afford to buy you a drink.'

'Seriously, I'm old fashioned,' Milo replied. 'Besides, I think the first drink with a beautiful woman should always be a special occasion.'

'You certainly know how to flatter a lady. I'm Jenna.'

Milo stared at her, struggling for words.

'Is something the matter?'

'Oh, no. I'm sorry, but your name is quite unusual.'

'Not where I come from. Jennas are a dime a dozen in the Outstations.'

'I once knew someone called Jenna, but that was some time ago.' Milo put on his craggy smile. 'My name's Milo, and don't worry, I do get better for the knowing. I haven't seen you in here before.'

'I'm just visiting Vennica, catching up with family and friends.'

Milo was about to speak when a group of people stopped by to talk to Jenna, one of whom was the man who had propositioned Glen earlier.

Jenna introduced the man. 'Milo, this is Ismay,'

Ismay shook Milo's hand. 'You must be Glen's friend. You're a lucky man.'

'Thanks,' Milo said. 'By the way, I agree with you.'

Ismay already had his arms about the waists of his two female companions. 'Well, I must be off,' he said, and the gregarious group moved loudly away from the bar.

'What do you think of my friend Ismay?' Jenna asked.

'I think he has got his hands full. I take it you are not partners or anything?'

'No. We're temporarily sharing an apartment, but he's always bringing women home with him. The place gets very crowded some nights. I can't tell you how many strange women I've met in my kitchen, making them drinks and things.'

'How does he cope with all that activity?' Milo said. 'Does he eat special food or something?'

'Not particularly, though he does eat a lot of meat.'

'I don't think that would explain it. So, what are you doing on the Outstations?'

'I'd like to say I was an artist who did maintenance on the side, but in reality I do maintenance and am an artist on the side.'

'What's it like out there?'

'It's as bad as it gets, but the money's good. Don't ask me about the locals – they breed with their relatives. I wouldn't touch any man out there with lead mittens.'

'Do you think it's better here?'

'There's a real buzz in Kalmis, which is why I come whenever I can get away. By the way, I've seen you in here before; you come highly recommended.'

'I can't think of anyone here who would recommend me.'

'Lois says you're a regular guy. That's good enough.'

'Have you been watching me?'

'Look,' Jenna said. 'I know this is going to sound bad, but I come to Kalmis to enjoy myself. Although I like to mix with men, I'm choosy, and I don't just go with anyone. You're the man I'm looking for tonight.'

'I'm completely lost for words. You're saying you want me, just like that. You're a very attractive woman; you could have any man in this room.'

'I've made up my mind, and I'm going back to purgatory soon. Are you interested?'

Milo checked the time. 'I have something important to do tomorrow and really do have to go home. Can we meet again?'

'It has to be tonight.' Jenna hesitated. 'Maybe I was mistaken. You think I'm an escort, don't you? Please excuse me.' She got up to leave.

'No, don't go,' Milo said. 'I'm the one who's been ungracious, and it's you who should be excusing me. What are your plans for the rest of the evening?'

'I was leaving that up to you.' Jenna finished her drink and placed the glass on the bar. She stared at Milo with dark, liquid eyes. 'If you want to, you could come back to my apartment.'

It was late when Milo and Jenna left the bar, and Milo found himself walking down the road, talking and laughing and looking for a cab with Jenna's arm linked through his.

'I've just had a thought,' Jenna said. 'Ismay's probably taken those girls back to the apartment, and he's really noisy when he gets going. Would you mind if we went back to your place? I think it will be a lot quieter.'

'I'm a great believer in a quiet life,' Milo said. 'There's a cab coming. Let me show you where I hang out when I'm not in the bar.'

'You won't regret it.' Jenna gave Milo's arm a comforting squeeze. 'I might even surprise you.'

Milo slowly woke up, rolled over in bed, and drowsily recalled the events of the previous evening and his night of passion, relaxed in the post-coital afterglow of a new sexual encounter. He could not believe how well things had turned out. Was sex with Jenna better than with Glen? He had known Glen most of his life, so it was not right to make comparisons. Jenna really had surprised him; she was definitely a different person in bed to the one he had met in the bar. He reached across the sheets in the pitch darkness, only to find the bed empty. Jenna was gone!

Milo jumped out of bed and turned on the lights. He quickly checked his wallet, which was lying on the table, but nothing was missing, and all his money and credits were still in place. He noticed the time was one in the morning, so Jenna could only just have left. What had happened? The room appeared to be undisturbed, apart from a sheet of paper lying on a table. The note contained a message: _Thanks for a great night, and good luck with the presentation_. Underneath the note was a drawing, executed in simple pen strokes, which perfectly depicted Milo lying naked on the bed, although the artist's imagination had enhanced his manhood to cartoon proportions and depicted the bed much smaller than it actually was. Beneath the picture was a title: _Sleeping Giant_. What a great sense of humour, Milo thought. She wasn't an escort after all, and he was already anticipating their next encounter. The picture also reminded him of the original Jenna, who also made line drawings, but both women were artists, so the drawings were bound to look similar. Milo was climbing back into bed when something else struck him as being strange. As far as he could remember, he had not discussed the following afternoon's presentation with Jenna. He racked his brains, but Jenna did know, so he must have told her. The drink had obviously fuddled his memory.

Milo drifted back into a satisfied sleep, but almost immediately experienced a violent, multi-coloured dream that jerked him awake and out of bed, shaking and shivering, while sheets of vivid colour flashed before his eyes. He crashed into a cabinet before falling to the floor, where the pulsating colours continued to pierce his vision. Eventually they started to fade and the twitching of his limbs abated until he was able to extricate himself from the smashed furniture and find the light switch. He staggered groggily into the kitchen and swallowed a glass of water. It must have been a stroke, he thought, but he still had feeling down both sides of his body and face and could lift his arms. Had Jenna spiked his drink? Why would she do that? She had not taken anything from the apartment and planned to see him again. Milo poured another glass of water and carried it with him back to bed. He turned out the light and tried to work out what had happened, but his brain slowed down until he could no longer think clearly. Eventually his mind gave in to his body and he sank into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

'Good morning,' Milo said. He held the door open for Glen. 'Come inside. I've just put the coffee on.'

Glen walked into Milo's apartment. 'Have you fallen out with Moran, or are you deliberately avoiding him? Five times he's called me this morning; he's practically out of his mind with worry.'

'Moran is no longer in the loop,' Milo said.

'He needs you to brief him before the presentation.'

'He can wait. I will be making the presentation.'

Glen looked at Milo carefully. 'Are you all right? You had a lot to drink last night. If you've decided to do the presentation, have you worked out what you're going to say?'

'Yes, I have it all worked out. I'm not going to say anything about the alien; I'm going to announce an imminent attack on Vennica by the Old and New Colonial alliance. The first stage of that attack will be on Kalmis during the presentation, when blast bombs will detonate outside the conference centre and neutron transmitters sited on top of buildings in the city centre will be activated to wipe out the population of Kalmis.'

Glen stared at him open-mouthed. 'What did you just say?'

'There's nothing to worry about. The blast bombs are only intended to drive people onto the streets, and the neutron transmitters have already been rendered inoperative.'

'Are you out of your fucking skull?' Glen was shaking. 'Leave the invasion thing alone. Stick with what you know. Blame the others, but don't get involved in an invasion conspiracy. If you say that in public, you will never work for the government again and will probably spend the rest of your days in prison. What are you thinking about?'

Milo smiled. 'Everything is under control.'

'Security will shut you down and switch off your microphone,' Glen said. 'There is no way they will let you to say that to the media.'

'They won't be able to stop me. Read your messager. By the way, you are the first person on Vennica to read this message.'

Glen opened her messager and read the contents. She went white in the face. 'I'm horrified. What's all this?'

'Just after I start my speech, that message will be transmitted to over one hundred thousand people who hold senior positions in defence, law and government departments on Vennica.'

Glen sat down, trembling. She read the message again. 'Are you saying that the Law Lords are in on the invasion?'

'That is a full account of the invasion plans, and I have named individuals who have sided with the alliance. Many of those people will be in the room, so the crowd will probably get rather lively after receiving the message. You have no need to be concerned. To make my point, a bomb will explode outside the building shortly after I release the message. I will then explain that the neutron generators are inactive and do not pose a risk to the population of Vennica. By the end of today, the whole Vennican constitution will have been scrapped and power ceded to a military government under a state of emergency until the threat of invasion is controlled, after which, elections will be held and a true, democratically-elected government returned to power.'

'You won't be allowed to say those things. How do you expect to do this on your own?'

'I'm not on my own,' Milo said. 'Others are involved. Earlier this morning I contacted thousands of prominent people on Vennica: politicians, judges, ministers, members of the police and armed forces, and civic leaders. My message to them contained a hidden code which has given specific instructions about their roles today.'

'Am I really hearing this?' Glen said. 'Last night when I left the bar, you were in your cups, yet overnight you appear to have organised a revolution.'

'It was already organised. The sleeping giant is about to awake, and nothing will ever be the same again on this planet. I want you to be part of this, and I need you to do something for me. Let me make you that coffee.'

Glen, still reeling from Milo's revelations, sat in a state of shock and watched while Milo casually operated the coffee machine in the kitchen next door as if he had just discussed the weather with her. By the time he returned with the drinks, she was wondering if she would ever return to the apartment and, recalling her earlier comments, was beginning to believe that her next visit to see Milo would probably be to a prison cell.

That afternoon, Glen stood next to Moran at the edge of the stage. She stared, uncomprehending, at the crowd and massed ranks of media waiting to hear from Milo. Fifteen hundred people were about to get the shock of their lives. Her mouth was dry, and her legs were shaking. She prayed that she would have the strength to go through the chaos that was about to take place.

'Where's Milo?' Moran asked. 'I think he's deliberately avoiding me.'

Glen managed to find her voice. 'I haven't seen him for some time,' she replied. 'I'm sure he's somewhere around.'

'I hope there won't be any surprises today,' Moran said.

'I don't think you will be disappointed,' Glen said. That was correct, she thought – disappointed was a word that was definitely not on the day's agenda.

Moran peered around the room. 'There seem to be a lot of uniforms in the crowd,' he observed.

'They're probably security people,' Glen said.

Then the noise in the crowd died down as Milo strode purposefully onto the stage. He held his hand up until there was silence and went straight into his speech.

'Listeners. Today you expect to hear a full account of a case involving an alleged encounter with an alien that took place two years ago. You will not be hearing anything about that case today; we all now need to address matters of extreme importance. You also expect to hear news of an impending invasion of Vennica, and I can confirm that at this very moment Vennica is under attack by a Colonial alliance whose intention is to subjugate the Vennican population and place the planet under martial law.'

A groundswell murmur rose to become a barrage of sound. People in the crowd shouted for Milo to step down. Some protestors attempted to climb onto the platform, but security guards restrained them. Above the activity, Milo stood, impassively watching the restless crowd.

'Everyone in this room – check your messagers!' Milo shouted. 'Do this now!'

The room fell silent as thousands of people read their messagers. Then the noise rose to a crescendo as the assembly realised what was happening.

'Read that message!' Milo shouted over the rising hubbub. 'You will see full details of the invasion plan including the names of attendees at this meeting who are acting in collusion with the invasion force.'

Fighting broke out at the back of the room, and the media at the front did not know which way to turn. The whole crowd threatened to become violent, but security guards and members of the armed forces had already secured the exits and were detaining implicated persons who were attempting to flee the building. Someone discharged a gun during the scuffle, and a bullet ricocheted off the ceiling.

'Silence!' Milo yelled above the din. The noise level fell again. 'In ten seconds a bomb will explode outside. Stay calm. You have nothing to fear.' Milo counted down – four, three, two, one. Nothing happened. People in the crowd turned and looked at each other. Someone laughed with relief, and then the shock of a nearby explosion rocked the building. A cloud of black smoke drifted past the windows, darkening the room.

'That explosion was caused by a blast bomb,' Milo said, 'and there will be another one in a minute's time. The attackers intended the explosions to drive the residents of Kalmis onto the streets of the city where they would be bombarded with radiation from four neutron generators installed in high-rise buildings inside the city centre.' Another blast sounded outside, this time further away. 'That was the intention of the invasion plan, but I can categorically assure you that the neutron generators have all been deactivated and will not function. You are safe. The Vennican military forces will now take control until the threat of invasion is lifted.'

Milo nodded to Glen who, although her nerves would hardly allow her to stand, managed to walk across the stage to where a senior-ranking officer was sitting. She bent forward and touched his arm. 'Please.' The General acknowledged Glen and allowed her to escort him to the microphone where Milo introduced him to the assembled crowd as General Harris, Commander in Chief of the Vennican military forces. The General took the microphone and began to explain the transfer of the Vennican constitution to military control.

Milo and Glen walked back from the stage and joined Moran, who was standing, staring at them in slack-jawed amazement. Milo squeezed Glen's hand. 'Thank you for that,' he whispered. 'Now you've met the waking giant.'

'You're the only giant for me,' Glen whispered back.

Milo gave her his craggy grin. 'And you're the only woman for me.'

Moran stood next to Milo and Glen in a state of complete bewilderment. As he watched the scene unfold, the General waved Milo back to the microphone and the media went berserk trying to get footage as Milo led Glen onto the stage. The big-shouldered, ex ball-player with the huge hands, standing a head above everyone else, strode onto the platform like a conquering hero and faced the crowd with his head tilted back slightly and a slight smile on his face. Moran just knew that in a previous era, Milo would have been holding a sword in one hand and a severed head in the other.

Milo addressed the crowd, and Moran thought that every moment has its man, and watched Milo standing imposingly on the stage, grasping that moment and taking the crowd with him, and all the time holding onto Glen, who gazed adoringly at him with a smile the size of a spotlight. Moran turned and walked outside, where a camera crew racing into the building sent him flying. The noise inside and outside was deafening. Above the roar of the arguing media scrum, the imposing military presence and the agitated crowd, he could hear Milo talking about negotiations with the Colonies, democratic elections and the restitution of a functioning government. Fire services raced by, sirens blaring, and clouds of acrid black smoke from the blast bombs swirled over the roof-tops and down into the crowded streets outside.

Moran's headache intensified, and a pain throbbed mercilessly behind his eyes. It felt like he had sidestepped, and in that moment the whole planet had moved forward in time, leaving him behind. He was the head of the Security Service and had not heard a thing about an impending Colonial invasion, while in the past few minutes, Milo had somehow deflected an attack on Kalmis, shredded the Vennican Constitution, brought down the Judiciary, placed the planet under military rule, and arranged the election of a democratic government. Moran had been a bystander during the unfolding of a significant historical event and had not known anything about it. To make things worse, Milo had still not explained the alien affair.

As news quickly spread through the city offices and stores, more and more people poured onto the streets of Kalmis. Moran sat on a low wall at the side of the building entrance and held his aching head in his hands. In the last few minutes, his world had turned upside down. What was happening? If Gil had been there, what would he have said about it? In fact, Moran knew exactly what Gil would have said – 'Unbelievable. Totally unfuckingbelievable.'

#####  VOLUME 2: BEYOND PHASEWAVE

#####  Chapter One

United Colonies Research and Exploration vessel Voltaire in deep space – Colonial year 1455

'I can't say I'll be sorry to see the back of this place.' Ryan was sweating heavily, and a spreading haze of condensation inside his faceplate threatened to obscure his vision. He pulled himself round, clawed aside the mess of tangled ropes and nets and floated in the tunnel, weightless, as he checked the security of the six rock-filled nets that lined the tunnel wall. Beyond, a darker patch of blackness indicated the end of their journey.

'We're almost done, only one more net to fill,' Guy replied. He pointed his flashlight around the walls. 'Have you any idea how this tunnel was formed? It looks too round and straight to be natural.'

'Search me. Maybe a ship came this way from Earth.'

'Earth did not get anything off-planet until two and a half thousand years ago; humankind has never been in this part of space. I reckon this asteroid could be millions of years old.'

'It might be a geological formation,' Ryan commented. 'Maybe something in the centre of the asteroid burnt its way out, an explosion of some sort.'

'An asteroid of this size must have originally formed part of a planet. I suppose it's possible that water flowing over time just wore away the softer rock and left this void.'

'I guess we'll never discover the answer to that question; all I know is that it's unusual for a research vessel to find an asteroid with a conveniently available tunnel in its side. At least it saves us the task of opening it up to find out what it's made of.' Ryan drilled a hole in the wall and screwed in an attachment point, while Guy unrolled the last net and pulled together the remaining rocks that hovered around them. Eventually, they secured the last rock, tightened the net and fastened it to the attachment point.

'This is the bit I've been waiting for. Drill me another hole, will you?' Ryan struggled to remove an object from his suit pocket. He watched while Guy noiselessly drilled into the rock again, in the process spraying a fine cloud of dust into the tunnel.

'One day, in another lifetime, someone is going to find this tunnel and wonder what sad, lonely person came out here and spent his days tidying up space debris,' Guy said. 'There, that should do it.'

Ryan screwed a sealed container into the tunnel wall. 'Here we go; this is what I've wasted a year of my life for. I hereby declare that this useless piece of crap, sorry, rock, floating about in the middle of nowhere for no apparent purpose, is officially the property of the United Colonies.'

Guy made a silent clapping gesture with his gloves. 'Well done. Can we go home now?'

As if in response, the radio crackled into life. 'How's it going, Scout?'

'We're ready to enter,' Ryan replied. 'We're just switching everything on.'

'You've got about twenty minutes left, is that long enough?'

'That's fine. We'll just take a peek and get some video for you before we return to the ship.'

'Okay. I'll get the tech team suited up ready to go. Base out.'

The two men switched on their cameras and lights and started to pull themselves further towards the centre of the asteroid.

'Any bets on what we're going to find?' Ryan asked.

'Jack crap,' Guy replied. 'Just like the rest of the places we've looked at.'

Progress was slow, but eventually the tunnel opened out, and the men's' torches probed the new darkness before them. Immediately, a soft glow appeared in response to their lights, revealing the walls of a vast, circular chamber.

Ryan swung his torch around the chamber and saw the light intensity increase. 'This place is luminous,' he said.

Guy examined the chamber. A thick coat of what appeared to be a light-sensitive substance lined its walls, reacting to the energy from their torch beams.

'Hold my line,' Ryan said.

Guy braced himself across the tunnel mouth and paid out line as Ryan floated into the centre of the cavern. A thin trail of glittering crystals curved free from the wall behind him, attracted by his mass, and started to settle on his protective suit.

Ryan put out his arm and caught some of the crystals in his glove. He examined them closely. 'These look like diamonds,' he said, 'but they're just tiny crystals.'

Guy pulled carefully at the adjacent wall and released another shower of luminous particles into the chamber. The crystals sparkled in the beam of his torch and became iridescent. 'Are you seeing this, Base?'

'We're copying. Return when you are finished. The troops are waiting for you.'

Guy pulled Ryan back to the tunnel mouth, and they brushed stray crystals from their suits before retracing their journey back down the tunnel.

'It sure would have been nice to have found a cache of real diamonds,' Ryan said.

'I don't know why we waste time and money doing all this research,' Guy said. 'Maybe Vennica got it right when it announced that there was nothing in space worth finding and pulled out of the research programme. If this substance does turn out to have any value, at least the government won't get its greedy mitts on it.'

The men continued their journey outside the tunnel, entered the caged walkway linking the asteroid to the _Voltaire_ and pulled themselves back to the ship. Once they were inside, the airlock opened, and they swapped places with three engineers, already suited and sealed, on their way out to collect samples from inside the chamber.

Ryan removed his helmet and waited until Guy did likewise. 'I reckon we must be finished now,' he said, 'and all we've got to show for a year's work is a pile of crystals that glow in the dark.'

'It might be a new substance, but whatever it is, I can't see it making much of an impact on anyone's lifestyle.'

'Amen to that,' Ryan said.

Kalmis Phasewave Base, Planet Vennica – Colonial year 1458

The huge machine dominated the crowded space, and the room was cold and airless. A deep humming sound sent vibrations through the floor: it was an uninviting venue for a presentation.

'Come in everyone,' Mike said. 'Spread out on the far wall so you can get a better view.'

The six aspiring applicants shuffled around the inside of the Phasewave unit and stood watching him, dutifully attentive. He observed their keen, young faces, each seeking employment with the largest company on Vennica.

'My name's Mike Hubbard,' he said, 'and I'd like to say "Hi" and welcome you on behalf of the Phasewave Company. I hope you all had a good lunch. You're business graduates now, and the Phasewave Company is always looking for clever people with good ideas, so let me introduce you to the love of my life.' He swung his arms across the room. 'This big mothe ... sorry, beauty is a Phasewave machine.'

The applicants peered around them, trying to appear suitably impressed.

Mike continued, 'Phasewaves are the most powerful and expensive machines ever produced. They are incredibly safe and reliable, and in ten years of operation, we haven't had a single failure.'

'Didn't one blow up on Bouron?' a young, fair-haired man asked.

'That is true ...,' Mike squinted at the man's nametag, '... Al, but it wasn't the machine's fault.'

'What happened?'

'Bouron had been shut down to allow a comet trail to pass through its transmission lane, but the maintenance crew restarted too soon and some debris from the comet tail was brought down in the first incoming transmission. The machine choked on it, and as advertised, it blew up. The Company had nothing to do with it.'

'What goes on at Bouron then?' Al asked.

'Before I go into Bouron, first let me explain what happens at this end. There are four of these Phasewave units on the Kalmis base, and another thirty-eight units are spread out at bases all over the planet. I don't know your backgrounds, but can anyone explain how a Phasewave machine works?'

Nobody could.

'Then allow me to do so,' Mike continued. 'Phasewave machines remove the time lag from data transmitted through the Phasewave network, allowing real-time communication to take place throughout the entire inhabited universe. The units here, and in the Colonies and Outstations, are peripheral Phasewave machines, and their outputs are all directed to Bouron, which is a Phasewave relay base. In addition to processing incoming data, the twelve Phasewave units on Bouron have an additional task: when synchronised they produce the Wave, which is the heart of the Phasewave system. Incoming data is compressed and accelerated by the machines before it is positioned on the Wave, removing the time lag in the process. Any questions so far?'

A woman, whose nametag displayed the name Amal, put her hand up. 'Do the machines actually move data in time?'

'That's a very good question. The peripheral machines feeding the network are sited at different ranges from Bouron, so obviously data is subject to varying degrees of delay before it reaches the relay station. When that data is subsequently processed, the machines compare the time at the points of origin and destination and allocate processed data to a specific point on the Wave, thereby eliminating the time lag. Some data is advanced, and some is retarded; they are very clever machines.'

'Isn't Bouron where a whole crew went missing? The question came from a serious-looking man. 'What happened to them?'

'That occurred around the time the unit malfunctioned,' Mike replied. 'I wasn't working for the Company then, but I seem to remember that space sickness was involved, and unfortunately the four crew members died. Moving on ....'

'Other people died inside one of these units. Is this the one?'

'Pardon?'

'Three people died inside a Phasewave here on Vennica. Is this the one known as the Ghost Unit?'

'I'm afraid I don't know the answer to your question.'

Cara, a leggy, blonde woman, checked her media screen. 'It says here that those people died in Unit Four.'

'Well, this is Unit Four, but I wasn't aware that it was known as the Ghost Unit,' Mike said.

'So how did those people die?' Amal asked.

Mike was becoming flustered. 'I don't really want to go there. Some people are nervous about that kind of thing.'

Cara continued, 'Apparently, two engineers and an agent died in this unit, and the cause of death could not be determined.'

'Then I guess that must be right. Can we change the subject? I'm sure that not everyone here wants to dwell on the past.'

'Are there really ghosts in here?' Amal asked.

'Of course not,' Mike replied. 'Look, we only have a half-hour slot; can we move away from idle speculations?'

'Two security agents were also killed,' Cara said, still reading from her screen. 'That means five people died in this unit. The three who died together were lying next to the Phasewave.'

Everybody, apart from Mike, looked down at the floor. Several people stepped away from the Phasewave machine. Mike, who was standing in the exact spot where the deaths had occurred, felt obliged to move to the side of the room.

'Another engineer also died on Bouron,' Cara said. 'What happened to him?'

'I can answer that,' Mike replied. 'He was one of the relief crew, the Crew Chief, and he died of a heart attack. His death was from natural causes.'

'Is that kind of thing normal?' Al asked. 'I mean, you've now confirmed that, let's see, ten people died either here or on Bouron. Weren't there any emergency medical facilities available for those people?'

'Of course there were. Listen; when the Phasewaves on Bouron produce the Wave, they block out all other forms of radio transmissions, so you are out of radio contact the whole time you are there. You can't simply call for a doctor. A full risk assessment was completed before the crew went out. The safety of Phasewave personnel is, and always will be, a Company priority.'

Somebody at the back of the room whispered, 'It doesn't sound like it.'

Mike overheard the comment and saw red. 'Do you want to hear about Phasewaves, or not?' he angrily demanded. 'The Phasewave Company operates to the highest safety standards at all times. 'Now, have we any more questions about Phasewave?'

Cara was still reading her screen. She gave a squeal of surprise. 'It says here that the machine created an alien!'

'That's it! If you can't find anything sensible to discuss, we'll go somewhere else. Follow me.' Mike walked rapidly from the room.

Nobody moved.

Al waited until the sound of Mike's footsteps had faded before breaking the silence. 'What a knob. If that guy really wanted to put us off working for this outfit, he couldn't have done a better job.'

The applicants started to file out of the machine. Cara was last in the queue and Al waited for her to join him at the door. She reminded him of a foal – all legs and full of fun. He liked her.

Cara smiled at him. 'It was good of Mike to show us the love of his life.'

'You mean his big mother?'

Cara laughed. 'Has anyone ever told you that you have a mean sense of humour?'

'Yes, and I'm absolutely convinced that the Phasewave Company won't appreciate it. Have you finished in here?'

Cara stepped back inside the unit. 'I can still hear something.'

Al joined her and listened intently. 'It's just the floor moving.'

'No, it's not that.' Cara strained to listen. 'There it is again! It's more like a high-pitched cry. It sounds like a woman's voice calling for help. Can't you hear it?'

Al shook his head. 'Maybe it's one of those ghosts they were talking about.'

'Don't say that! I'm out of here.'

The two of them walked back along the access corridor.

'I've seen enough,' Al said. 'I'm heading back to Kalmis. Do you want a lift?'

'Where are you going?'

'I thought I'd check out the new Casino.'

Cara considered Al's offer. 'I'll come with you. This isn't the caring and sharing organisation I was expecting.'

'Imagine spending your life working with a bunch of company clones like Mike,' Al said.

'I don't want to think about it.'

'Well, if those ten deaths occurred after a risk assessment, I'd hate to take on a dangerous job.'

'I don't understand why Mike got so huffy when I asked about the alien.'

'He had just spent ten minutes explaining how we could lose our lives by working for the Phasewave Company,' Al said. 'I think he had done enough damage without inviting an alien to the party.'

#####  Chapter Two

Kalmis City, Vennica – Colonial year 1459

Alasdair Knowles was not looking forward to meeting his boss, James Lockhart, so it was with a heavy heart and a feeling of despair that he entered Government House and took an elevator to the office of the Head of Security Services. He reminded himself, however, that he was only there to do what needed to be done and that desperation always determined action, no matter how unpalatable it might be. Despite arriving without an appointment and after spending what he considered an unnecessarily long time negotiating with an unsympathetic secretary and an even more unfriendly Deputy, he was finally admitted to the office.

James greeted Alasdair cordially and showed him to a chair in his office. Both men sat down, and Alasdair could not help noticing that the other man was looking gaunt, and his movements were no longer as sprightly as they used to be. He guessed that the other man was suffering the same pressures as everyone else in the Service. After a few minutes of polite conversation, James asked Alasdair how things were in his department.

'I think you are already familiar with my problem,' Alasdair explained. 'An increasingly hostile raft of lawyers are challenging every court decision and enhancing every possible legal objection, as a result creating an unacceptable backlog of crimes waiting their turn to go through the courts. Half my agents are in court at any one time, and defence lawyers are trying to discredit and challenge them at every possible opportunity. Morale is low, and I do not have enough staff to cope with our existing cases, let alone any new ones. I am looking to you for assistance.'

'I sympathise with you,' James replied, 'but what you are experiencing is an inevitable backlash after the way the Judiciary and the Security Services behaved under the previous government. We are all paying for the crimes of a corrupt legal system, and it is hurting, but that is not the real reason why you are here, is it?'

'No. I have to clear the backlog, and I want to re-hire Will Avery.'

James leant back in his seat and raised his eyebrows. 'You know that an agent cannot be re-employed after he has been dismissed for unacceptable behaviour.'

'Yes, but Will was the best agent I had, and I can see no reason why he could not be re-employed as a contractor in an advisory capacity, with no legal jurisdiction.'

James was dubious. 'As far as I am aware, there is no precedent for re-employing an agent under those conditions.'

'In mitigation, Will was not convicted of any wrongdoing.'

'Let's be serious. We both know why the charges against him were dropped, but you can't plead a clean sheet for an agent who assaulted a lawyer in court in front of over a hundred witnesses.'

'Most of them were on Will's side,' Alasdair said.

'That does not help your case. Whatever happened that day, the Security Service did not come out of it in a good light. I think you are being optimistic to think that Will Avery can just return to your Department and carry on as if nothing has happened.'

'I'm on my knees; I need help.'

'I will consider your request, but in the meantime, you might be of assistance to me. I have been asked to place somebody and can offer you an additional agent, Sam Sergeant, who might be able to help you out.'

'Who is he?' Alasdair asked.

'He is a she,' James replied. 'She is the niece of Brad Shipley, who, as you may remember, was a previous Head of Security Service. Homeland Security currently employs her as an investigator, but things are not working out, and she wants to see some action. I have met her, and she is enthusiastic, keen and qualified. I think she could work well on secondment.'

'She sounds as if she's light on experience, but I'm not in a position to turn anyone down. What about Will?'

'I have some sympathy and understand where you're coming from, but I need to give your request more thought. If I did approve your request, it would entail him remaining unwarranted for the duration of his employment, and you would need to supervise him at all times, particularly when operating in the public domain. How do you feel about that?'

'It would be acceptable.'

'Then I hope to be able to let you know by the end of today.'

'I am very grateful for your help.'

'It might not prove to be straightforward. I gather that Will was not exactly a team player, so how will the rest of your agents feel about working with him again?'

'Nobody can deny that Will has his own way of doing things; the only problems he caused were by solving cases that nobody else could. That's why he attracted the nickname of _mind reader_.'

'Is that true? Surely you can't read another person's mind.'

'Of course not, but it was to our advantage to let that reputation out onto the streets. As a result, we got more confessions, and that led to a reduction in the number of outstanding court cases. Regarding the rest of the team, after the bashing of the lawyer, Will's popularity rocketed. I don't think his reemployment would be an issue.'

'If Will's reemployment were to be approved, you would first have to discuss it with your team. They would need to clearly understand that he is never going to be a full-time employee again.'

'That should not be a problem.'

'I hope you are right, but knowing Will, I have a distinct feeling that if I do approve his appointment, you might end up regretting taking him back.'

That evening, Will Avery was sitting by a window in a bar and looking out over the harbour. It was, he decided, probably one of the best views in Kalmis. Rows of jet boats lined up with old-fashioned sailing yachts along the sides of the quays, and the evening ferries sketched white lines of wake across the darkening sea as they finished their daily journeys to and from the offshore islands. A black stroke stretched to the horizon and dissected the harbour waters; it was the privately constructed, billion-dollar causeway, still under construction, that would ultimately link Kalmis to the reclaimed island of Ultima, where only the richest of the rich planned to live. One day, he speculated, he might be living on that island. It was a pleasing thought.

The bar was Will's favourite place, and he called in there nearly every day. He knew that he drank too much, but he lived on his own and, at the age of thirty-five, enjoyed an easy life answering to no one. He particularly liked to visit the bar in the quiet time at the end of the day, before the evening crowds descended upon the area. The room was almost empty, apart from a young couple sampling cocktails and an older man sitting at the bar. While he was waiting for the arrival of his girlfriend, Celia, he observed a large, wall-mounted screen where trainers could be seen leading their racing dogs out onto a track. Will hated dogs; he always had done. Racing dogs, fighting dogs, edible dogs – he hated them all. Upon reflection, he decided that was probably not quite true – dogs normally gave him a wide birth, as if they sensed that there was something different about him. He caught sight of Celia, who was entering the room, and stood up to greet her. Suddenly, his attention focused on a particular dog crossing the screen on its way to the start cages. Number thirteen! He felt a prickling in his scalp.

He warmly greeted Celia, who was about to remove her coat. 'Don't sit down,' he said. 'I need you to do me a favour.'

Celia was puzzled. She stared around the almost deserted bar. 'What favour?'

Will dug into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar note. 'I want you to go to the betting shop next door and put this money on number thirteen to win. The race is just about to start.'

'I can't do that; I've never placed a bet in my life. Why can't you go?'

'I'll explain later. Go quickly. If the dog comes first, you can keep the winnings. '

Celia reluctantly left the room, and Will idly turned his attention back to the television screen while he waited for the race to start. His thoughts turned to Celia, the strange, waif-like woman with the inquisitive face and probing eyes who had turned up in his life. Whatever her problems were, his intention was always to make her happy. Abruptly, the race started, and the screen distorted into a jumble of fur and flashing teeth, foaming mouths and wild eyes. A distorted and inaudible announcement failed to reveal a winner, and the camera quickly switched to another race. Will had no idea which dog had won. He had just finished his drink when Celia returned to the bar, flushed with success.

'We won!' Celia laid down one thousand dollars on the table and pushed it over to Will.

'Keep it,' Will said. 'It's only money.'

'I can't. It was your stake.'

'Okay.' Will took one hundred dollars out of the pile of notes and handed the rest to Celia. 'Now we're even. Treat yourself.'

Celia hesitantly accepted the money. 'How did you know that dog would win, and why couldn't you go to the betting shop yourself?'

'Regarding the betting shop, I have been banned from using it. As for knowing that number thirteen would win, I haven't a clue.' Will thought it was nice to see Celia animated for a change; she generally existed in a pessimistic world.

'How can they ban you?' Celia's thin face became more intense. 'Are you in trouble?'

'No, but I used to gamble regularly and won a lot of money from the Kalmis gambling venues. As a result, I was banned from most of them, including the bookmakers next door.'

'Is that because you always won?'

'I didn't always win, but the casinos thought I was somehow cheating, and my name went on a blacklist. It's not a problem; I now gamble on the stock exchanges.'

Celia was seeing a side to Will that she was not aware existed. 'Is it true that you made a lot of money?'

'Yes, it's true.'

'If you had money, why did you need to work for the Security Service?'

'I guess I was bored. It's more interesting working with the criminal element, and there is always the chance of a physical encounter or two.'

'I don't understand. You have lost your job and are living in a cheap apartment, yet you claim to make money. Why would you do that?'

This was it – crunch time. 'I can explain.'

'I don't think you can. Be honest, and accept that the Department sacked you because you were a liability.'

'I was the best agent they had.'

'Until you ran amok and ruined your career.'

Will glanced around the bar. 'Let me prove to you how good I am. Do you see that man at the bar? The one in the suit. He has come to offer me a job.'

'How can you possibly know that?'

'Well, he has been looking round this room for half an hour, and has never looked in this direction. There are not many people in the room, so I must be his target. In addition, he is wearing the wrong type of clothes to be here on leisure, so he must be here on business. He has called in after work to see me.'

'I think you are losing the plot.' Celia feigned amazement. 'Are you seriously telling me that you can work all that out just by looking at him?'

Will chuckled. 'No. I have a confession to make. The man at the bar is Alasdair, my old boss, the one who fired me. He's waiting for me to go up to the bar and say hello, and then he's going to ask me to come back and work for him.'

'I don't believe you.'

'Why else would he be here? Excuse me; I'll just be a minute.'

'We meet again,' Will said.

At the sound of a voice, Alasdair turned and found Will standing at the bar next to him. 'I could say you're a hard man to pin down, Will, but everyone knows that this is your regular haunt. What are you doing with yourself nowadays?'

'I'm surviving,' Will said. 'And you? This place isn't on your normal beat.'

'Your girlfriend is giving me the evil eye, so I won't waste your time. How would you like to do some work for me?'

'Are you serious? The Service wouldn't take me on again.'

'It would be contract work.'

'No warrant, then?'

'You would be paired up with a warranted officer at all times. It's the only way I could employ you.'

'I'll think about it,' Will said. 'Are you staying for a drink?'

'If I watch one more dog race, I'll go barking mad. By the way, I saw money cross the table. Is it something I should be worried about?'

'Celia's luck was in; that was number thirteen in the last race. You've got good eyesight; you haven't looked at me all night.'

'Bars do have mirrors. You've got my number, so give me a ring if you're interested.'

Later that evening, Will and Celia left the bar and took the harbour path alongside the marina.

'Are we going back to your place tonight?' Will asked.

'We always do that. Why can't we go to yours for a change?'

'You think I live in a dump.'

'Even you think you live in a dump, but if you let me, I can help you clean up. It doesn't always have to be such a mess.'

Over the last few months, Will had developed feelings for Celia and was not ready to part with her. Now, here it was again – crunch time, the point at which he had lost all his previous relationships. He decided to take the plunge. 'We can't go back to my apartment because I've sold it and moved out.'

Celia stopped walking. 'I thought you were renting your old place. Where are you living now?'

'I've moved to a bigger apartment.'

'How can you afford to do that if you have lost your job? I don't believe you.'

'It's true.'

'In which case, I would like to see your new hideout. Show me.'

'I will do that, but promise me that you will give me a chance to explain everything.'

'First show me where you live,' Celia said.

Will and Celia entered the lobby of a large, imposing building on the Kalm River waterfront.

Celia stared at the reception desk. 'Why are you taking me to a hotel?'

'This isn't a hotel; it's a managed apartment block. There's a concierge on duty at all times.'

Will and Celia stood in silence while a lift smoothly transported them to the top of the building. The lift stopped at the entrance to an apartment, and Will unlocked the door. They stepped inside.

'Is there another apartment on this floor?' Celia asked.

'No. This is the penthouse; we've got the whole floor to ourselves.'

Will showed Celia into the apartment and sat her down in the lounge. He crossed the room to the bar and returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

'Who chose these interior fittings?' Celia asked, looking around the room. 'They obviously had good taste.'

'I selected everything in this apartment,' Will said. He poured them both a glass of wine.

'You must be rich to afford the rent on a penthouse,' Celia said. 'This must be costing you a fortune.'

'Actually, I own it.'

Celia was shocked.

'Let me explain,' Will said. 'I have my own investment business, and it has earned me a substantial amount of money. I have kept my private life from the Security Services because the other investigators would have become suspicious if they discovered that I was living here. That's why I bought the old place near Shuttleport; it was an unpopular address that was unlikely to attract attention.'

'How can I trust you?' Celia shook her head in disbelief. 'After all this time, I feel that I don't know anything about you. It is obvious that you don't trust me. What else are you hiding from me?'

'I can't apologise enough. Look, I know you think that I'm just a loser with a bad temper. I'm also a drinker and a gambler, and I should have told you all this long ago. However, I do have feelings for you. Is there any way you can overlook those faults of mine?'

Will looked into Celia's eyes; it was like staring into the barrels of a shotgun.

'You are not the man I thought I knew.' Celia started to leave the room, but hesitated before reaching the door. She turned and walked back to stand by the window and surveyed the harbour lights below.

'This is pretty,' she said. 'Maybe we need to start all over again.'

During the night, Will woke up and left Celia sleeping soundly in his bed. He quietly made his way to the study and helped himself to a glass of whiskey. Just the one, he reminded himself, but tonight he was in a celebratory mood. His domestic issues appeared to be behind him, and he was feeling good about his change in fortunes. In the morning, he was going to negotiate with the Defence Secretary, which he hoped would resolve an outstanding problem of his. He stepped out onto a balcony and looked over the rails at the harbour and the city lights. Life was good. It was going to be an interesting conversation in the morning, but he had prepared for it and had sufficient background knowledge to support his move. What was the Defence Secretary's name again? Milo de Villiers, he was the man.

Justice Precinct, Kalmis City, Vennica – Colonial year 1459

Daniel Wilcox, or, as he preferred to be known, Reverend Daniel Christian Wilcox, chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee, walked through the streets of Kalmis on his way to the Justice Precinct. Following a recent attempt to improve his eyesight, the less than successful operation had left him with rings of tightened skin around his eyes that gave him the appearance of constantly searching a distant horizon. Fine, ginger-coloured hair fell over his forehead into his eyebrows, enhancing the effect. The day was fine and he was feeling confident that he had at last found a way to address an unresolved issue. He always found elegant solutions attractive, especially this one, although he was aware that most of his contemporaries generally disagreed with his understanding of the word elegant.

Daniel entered the conference centre and made his way to the committee's allocated meeting room. He was renowned for his lack of punctuality, and being over half an hour late, the other three members were impatiently waiting for him. When he joined them at the table, their brief exchanges of formal greetings were distinctly frosty.

Maxwell Boyce, the speaker, commenced the meeting. 'If it's okay by everyone here, I would like to start today's discussion off the record. Does anyone have an objection?' He looked around the table. There were no objections.

'Okay. First, I would like to carry out a reality check. Progress so far in this inquiry into the Vennican invasion – none. Achievements so far – none. After everything we have done, there is now a growing groundswell of public opinion that we are wasting time and money on a lost cause. We are no nearer establishing the events leading up to the invasion than when we started.'

'Be serious,' Daniel said. 'When we set up this committee, we knew that we were unlikely to achieve everything expected of us.'

'It would have helped if the people we interviewed had been adequately briefed beforehand,' Maxwell observed.

'People attended those hearings of their own free will,' Daniel said. 'We could not have forced them to give statements if they preferred not to; we had to respect their human rights.'

Maxwell turned to Paul Hom. 'Paul, you are the legal expert; what is your take on that?'

'Daniel is technically correct,' Paul replied, 'but, by stressing their human rights to the attendees immediately before their hearings, he may as well have just kissed them goodbye. That is what is commonly described as a "cop out".'

'At least we cannot be found at fault over our behaviour,' Daniel replied. 'We are not the police force, thank God.'

Jacinda Wells served on the committee to oversee public relations. Now she interrupted, 'Other rumours are also floating around, and those rumours portray this Committee in a particularly bad light.'

'What rumours are they?' Daniel asked.

'Have you had any feedback concerning the three Colonial prisoners who were returned to the Colonies?'

Daniel shook his head.

'Then let me refresh your memory,' Jacinda said. 'Following advice you gave to the Vennican government, they released, as a gesture of goodwill, three of the ringleaders of the attempted invasion of Vennica by the Colonies. That was undertaken on the understanding that those prisoners would serve out their sentences on the Colonies instead of inside a Kalmis gaol. Stories are now circulating that when they arrived back in the Colonies, the government greeted them as heroes and lauded their part in the invasion. They were immediately pardoned and did not serve their sentences, as was required by the agreement.'

'If that is true,' Maxwell added, 'we are in deep shit. So far, every person we have interviewed has taken a position of silence and forgotten memories. On top of that, we are now facing a backlash for your interference.'

'I never interfered,' Daniel said. 'The government made that decision.'

'Government ministers made that decision because you personally lobbied them on the prisoners' behalf.'

'That simply is not true,' Daniel replied. 'Those stories were made up by the press; there was no substance to them. We aren't under threat, so let's not panic.'

'We are not panicking,' Paul said. 'You took that decision after we had indicated our opposition to any softening of our position on the invasion, and you took it without consulting this team. You seem to have forgotten that Colonial forces planned to commence their invasion of our planet by murdering the one million residents in Kalmis. That would have been the most serious hostile incident ever recorded in Vennican history.'

'I understand your concerns,' Daniel said, 'but the government put me on the spot and asked for my advice. All I made was a suggestion; I didn't hold a gun to their heads or anything.'

'That's okay,' Paul replied. 'We have copies of the meeting where we all agreed not to soften the stand, and we have copies of the meeting following that decision where we registered our displeasure at your unilateral action. If anything does come of these allegations, the next appearance of those meeting minutes will be in court. Why would we feel under threat?'

'Can we put this idle speculation behind us?' Daniel said. 'We have something important before us: I have had a revelation.'

The panel let out a collective groan.

'Please stop rolling your eyes for a moment, and listen to me. I know you do not follow my religion, but I awoke in the night and everything became clear. God gave me insight, and I now know how this invasion came about. I am now convinced that Milo de Villiers was instrumental in orchestrating the attack on Kalmis.'

'This sounds like another of your hare-brained concepts,' Maxwell said.

'Please listen. First, allow me to recap some of the major points of the invasion.'

The others sat back resignedly while Daniel went through, not for the first time, his personal views on what had happened during the failed Colonial invasion of Vennica.

Eventually, Maxwell could listen no longer. 'Let us stop right there. So far you have said nothing new; what has changed?'

'I have reached the conclusion that Milo was working in collusion with the Colonies in the lead up to the invasion, which explains how he knew about the installation of the neutron transmitters over many months and the exact timetable of the attack. Some reports afterwards suggested that de Villiers was under the influence of an alien, but I do not believe that was the case.'

Maxwell burst out laughing. 'Take my advice, Reverend. Unless you want to end up looking like a complete and utter fool, keep that bit of information to yourself.'

'Milo was credited for defeating the invaders and saving the lives of everyone in Kalmis,' Jacinda added. 'How do you reconcile that with your conflicting viewpoint?'

'He was heavily involved with the invasion planning, but switched his allegiance at the last minute to claim the defeat as his own doing,' Daniel replied.

'How could one man have the ability to achieve all that?' Paul said. 'Other people must have been involved, so how come this is the first time we have heard of it?'

'Milo did have assistance, but it was not from an alien; a demonic presence had taken control of him.'

'However did you reach that conclusion?' Paul asked. 'Milo was vehemently opposed to sending the prisoners back to the Colonies, but he was outvoted by the government. In fact, wasn't that the main reason why he stood down as President? You are going down the wrong path.'

'You may wish to believe that, but you would be mistaken,' Daniel said. 'Milo did the unthinkable, and then, with the collusion of the military, set himself up as President. He is a truly evil man who is acting against the interests of this planet.'

'This is just another of your misguided crusades,' Paul said.

'I'm not going to argue this case any further,' Daniel said. 'We will have de Villiers in for questioning, which will allow him an opportunity to explain his actions. Once he accepts that he is a prime suspect, I expect him to admit his complicity in the plot and ask for forgiveness.'

'Milo is not a personal acquaintance of mine,' Paul said, 'but I am aware that he stopped an invasion, stripped the Judiciary of its powers and restored democracy to a corrupt government, so I don't think he will have much respect for the kind of lame attack on his integrity that you are planning. If you try to pin the invasion on Milo, I think you are going to discover that he is not a person to trifle with.'

'Thank you for your opinion,' Daniel said. 'I respect you for it, but I am convinced that we have our man. We may not have made much progress so far, but this is the big one. So far, de Villiers has made numerous flimsy excuses to avoid questioning, but I will now issue a court order and finally call him to account. We are a commission of truth, and God shall reveal that truth.'

'What makes you so certain?' Maxwell asked.

'If you look at the whole invasion scenario, this is the only explanation for what happened.'

'Taking on a government minister when you have already adopted a pre-judged position sounds like a recipe for disaster,' Paul said. 'This could end badly, especially if you attempt to bring religion into it.'

'We won't find out unless we try,' Daniel replied. 'Regardless of your opinions, I am the chair, and it is within my powers to make this decision.'

'Just like you did last time,' Paul added.

'I will ignore that remark. We have been tasked as a team to discover the truth behind the invasion, and that is exactly what we will do. Our patience in this matter is about to be rewarded, and we will vanquish the evil presence. Only then will this mission be terminated.'

Maxwell looked around the faces at the table and slowly shook his head. 'Nobody can deny that you're a fearless man, Daniel, but if you are wrong, we could all find ourselves terminated.'

#####  Chapter Three

Half a dozen men were waiting for Alasdair Knowles when he walked into the briefing room.

He began his announcement, 'I know you are all desperate to get back to work, so I'll keep this brief.' Jeers and muttered comments greeted his words. 'First, we have another addition to our team. A young woman called Sam Sergeant is joining us from Homeland Security.'

A younger member of the team, Damon, made a crude comment, and someone sniggered. 'Enough of that,' Alasdair said. 'Sam is a niece of Brad Shipley, so I want everyone to treat her with respect. Alternatively, you could find yourselves explaining your behaviour to Brad, which I would not recommend. Next, Will Avery is coming back to work for us.'

The announcement raised a chorus of shouts and laughs from the team. 'I know what you're thinking,' Alasdair said, 'but we need help to clear our backlog. I am only employing Will on contract, and he will not be a warranted agent. That is all for now. I will bring Sam round for introductions when she arrives.'

Damon waited until Alasdair had left the room and was out of earshot. 'Fuck me,' he said. 'The last thing we need here is another woman.'

'I bet she's a tough unit,' Shaun said, 'just like the last one. Notice that the words "good" and "looking" were never mentioned.'

'You're wrong,' Craig announced. 'The last thing we need is Will Avery.' Craig and Winston exchanged glances. They were older and more experienced in office politics.

'He always was a loose cannon,' Vincent added. 'It won't be long before he's up to his old tricks again.'

'Fancy Brad Shipley's name turning up,' Craig added. 'He was a hard bugger, but at least he fronted in the offices here with the troops. There were none of your fancy offices in the Government building for him.'

Winston got to his feet. 'Let's give Will a chance. I know he could be difficult, but when he worked here, he cracked more cases than anyone else did. And don't forget that one of us was responsible for what the lawyer did in court that day.'

'Well, I guess that anyone who bashes a lawyer can't be all bad,' Vincent said. 'I'll give him full marks for doing that.' Vincent was the senior agent in the room and felt responsible for maintaining standards. He nodded at Damon and Shaun. 'As for you young guys, don't get involved with this Sam Sergeant when she arrives; it will only cause trouble. Apart from that, I think we could do with a few extra hands right now. Let's get back to work.'

Sam was feeling apprehensive when she reported for duty later that day, mainly because it meant starting from scratch again working with a new team, none of whom she knew. However, she was determined to make a success of her new appointment, and the thought of having to return to Homeland Security was focussing her mind. She kept reminding herself to stay vigilant at all times and not lower her guard in front of strangers.

A secretary, who talked continuously to Sam as they walked through the building, showed her to an empty room. 'We don't employ many women here,' she said. 'The agents are nothing but trouble, so keep well away from them. Alasdair will be with you soon, so make yourself comfortable and good luck with the job.'

While she was waiting, Sam walked slowly around what was obviously a briefing room. The walls were covered in maps, most of which were riddled with pinholes that she presumed marked the locations of historical incidents. She found a map of Kalmis city and traced it to the house she shared with Amelia, noting with alarm that the pinholes were prolific in her neighbourhood. Neither of them were particularly safety conscious, and she made a mental note to check the locks and windows of their house more often. The adjoining map displayed the area of Northland surrounding Kalmis, and she found the location of the home where she had been brought up. It was in a more up-market suburb of the city where, she was amused to observe, the pinholes were far fewer. She smiled at the memory; her family were direct descendants of the first people to arrive from Earth, following its destruction over one thousand four hundred years earlier, and she had enjoyed a privileged upbringing, eventually studying criminology at university before working for Homeland Security.

The maps increasingly depicted greater areas until she was confronted by a large map showing the whole of the planet Vennica. It always fascinated her to see how the planet had developed. Northland was the original settlement location, followed by the restless Southland and beyond-the-pale Hinterland, from where convicts had been sent to populate the Colonies and Outstations. Stick-on notes indicated that seven million people now lived in Northland, sixty million in Southland and, according to the note, an unknown number, previously estimated at three million, lived in Hinterland. Although its oceans were dotted with a handful of insignificant small islands, the two larger islands of Altar and Norvik were the only other significant locations on the planet, and they mainly catered for holidaymakers and tourists. It was a pity they had not developed Southland first, she thought, because it had the best weather and the most resources of all the countries. It also grew and processed the exquisite and popular red coffee bean, which was its biggest export.

Alasdair opened the door and welcomed Sam to the Security Service. He apologised for leaving her on her own and led her to his office.

'I take it that June will have given you the usual warnings,' he said.

'She did offer some sisterly advice,' Sam replied.

'Don't take too much notice,' Alasdair said. 'June will look after you, but she does tend to dwell on the dark side, which is probably because she spends her time working with a bunch of agents.'

Alasdair walked Sam through the department and made introductions, after which he took her to his office and sat her at his desk while he explained what her role would entail. 'I'm teaming you up with another agent, Will Avery, who used to work for us but is now coming back as a contractor. You can go out together for a couple of days to get familiar with the way we operate. I'm afraid we haven't had much happen in the way of excitement recently, and I desperately need Will back in the office to help out with interviews as soon as possible.'

'I'm not very good with names,' Sam said. 'Did I just meet Will in the office?'

'No. At the moment, his paperwork is still being processed, but I expect him to start tomorrow. You'll pick up the office scuttlebutt in due time, but there are a few things that you should know about him. Following a stint with the National Guard, Will worked for us in the Security Service for a couple of years. He left and has now been re-employed. While he was here, he picked up the name _mind reader_ because of his ability to quickly resolve investigations, which is why I want him involved in the interviews.'

'Can he really read minds?'

'Nobody can read minds, but I am not averse to that reputation getting around because it makes puts our suspects on edge. Will comes with history, which I am not prepared to go into right now, and he is only able to work as a contractor. In due course, Tom will swear you in and issue you with a warrant.' Alasdair reached into his desk and gave Sam a bundle of pre-printed contact cards. 'I'll order your own personalised set, but in the meantime, use these and write your name on them if you need to hand them out. Now, I'll take you down to see Tom Parks. Tom will be your mentor for the first few months, so ask him for advice whenever you think you might need it.'

Alasdair entered a management office where an older man with thinning hair was processing files. 'This is Tom Parks. I'll leave you in his capable hands.'

Tom stood up and greeted Sam with a handshake. 'I knew Brad quite well,' he said. 'It's good to see his family following tradition. Welcome to the Department.'

'I hope I can live up to his reputation,' Sam said.

Tom quickly checked Sam out. She was a good-looking, young woman with pale blue eyes and an engaging manner. 'I understand that you were working in Homeland Security. What enticed you to come to us?'

'If I'm honest, I could not see a future for me in Homeland, and I got bored. There wasn't much work coming in, and we had to fight each other for every task. It was very political.'

'I'm guessing that most of the tasks went to the men.'

'You guessed right. Despite doing the same training as the men and holding a warrant, I never seemed to rise above the status of filing clerk.'

'We've got a bit of an unruly crowd here, but they're all okay, and everyone pulls their weight. If you do a good job, they will respect you, but you have to earn it. Did Alasdair tell you that you will be working with Will Avery?'

'You mean the _mind reader_?'

Tom laughed. 'I see he did. You will hear many stories about Will, most of them unbelievable, but he was a particularly good interrogator and had a knack of being able to quickly identify the guilty parties and go for the kill. It significantly reduced our processing time, but I must admit that I never expected to see him back.'

'What happened to make him leave?'

'I'll let him fill you in on that one. A word of warning: Will is no longer able to hold a warrant, which means that when you are on duty with him, you will be the warranted officer. If Will does anything outside your remit, you must report it to me immediately.'

'He sounds quite a character,' Sam said.

'Oh yes, he's a character all right. He also has a real temper, which has come in useful on occasion when carrying out arrests, and rumours circulated that he used to be a freestyle fighter when he was younger, which I don't believe. I think you two will get along together, but remember to keep him on a tight leash.'

Sam politely listened and patiently nodded as she tried to remember everything Tom was saying. Although she knew that men found her attractive, she intended to make it clear to any would-be admirer in the Department that she was out of bounds. She was competitive and career-minded and had her own private life, so she paid attention to him without interruption and began to believe that everything would work out in what she regarded as a positive change of direction in her life.

It was mid-day when Milo de Villiers returned to his office in Government House. He had spent the morning attending a particularly tedious ministerial briefing, and after exchanging the usual pleasantries with his aide, Margaret, he sat down at his desk and stared at the pile of outstanding paperwork that demanded his attention. He idly flicked through the top layers and pondered, not for the first time, why he was wasting his life playing politics as Minister of Home Affairs. Although normally of a temperate disposition, the routine boredom of his position was, he decided, starting to affect him, and he cast his mind back to his heady tenure as President following the attempted invasion of Vennica by the Colonies. In comparison to the defeat of the Colonial invasion, his current position was no substitute for the exercise of real power, and he accepted that it was only a matter of time before he would be looking for alternative employment.

He checked the time – seven hours to wait, and then his partner, Glen, would be back from her six-week tour of Vennica. It was something he was eagerly anticipating, and it almost made up for the current lack of excitement in his life. Milo got to his feet and walked around the office, stretching his joints. Although he was now approaching fifty years of age, according to Glen he still looked the same as he did when he was a young man. Well, not quite. A frosting of grey hair suited him, he thought, and he still had the tall, athletic stance and long arms of a ball player, even if he could no longer bend and touch his feet. Milo made sure that he was not being overlooked, then bent over and reached down, but his feet seemed to be further away than ever. Perhaps he was growing taller, he speculated, but then decided that was highly unlikely at his age. He did attempt, however, to keep reasonably fit to please Glen, who was more athletic. He checked the time again – still seven hours to go.

Margaret entered the office and reminded him that he was due to meet a Senator John Gregory in ten minutes time, presumably to discuss the proposed cuts to his departmental budget. 'Can you also spare a moment to see someone called Will Avery? ' she added. 'He's just turned up on spec and says he wants a few minutes of your time to discuss something important. He says it will be to your advantage.'

'The name sounds familiar; do we know him?'

Margaret gave him her peculiar smile, the one that always preceded the revelation of information that inevitably turned out to be something of which he was completely unaware. 'He's the security agent who beat up a lawyer in court.'

Milo tried to hide his surprise. 'What's he doing here? Is it safe to let him in?'

'You're bigger than he is, but don't worry, I've already had a stern word with him.'

Milo laughed. Margaret had been his Chief of Staff during his year as president and had stayed with him after he took on a ministerial role. She was a busy, cheerful soul who knew everybody and everything that happened in government circles. She also had another side to her character, as evidenced by numerous government personnel who, regardless of rank or status, found that a small, feisty woman, who resolutely refused to give ground when they threw their weight around, was denying access to his office. Although she had often been unfairly described as a guard dog, Milo considered her an invaluable asset. While Glen kept him sane, Margaret concerned herself with his physical protection – nobody got to him without her approval.

'You'd better bring him in,' Milo said, 'but he can't stay too long; I don't want to keep the Senator waiting.'

Margaret smiled again. 'Want a lucky dip?'

'Why don't I just give you my wallet and let you help yourself?' Milo groaned.

Margaret produced an envelope and waved it in front of him by one corner. 'Fifty dollars. I need it to make up for the pay I'm losing by working for you.'

'What's the timescale?'

'End of work tonight.'

Milo sighed, and put the envelope on top of his in-tray. Despite his begrudging acceptance, he had to admit that Margaret came out with some spectacular surprises. 'Fifty dollars,' he mused. 'I'll soon need a second job to keep up with my financial drain.'

'Don't be tight, and don't forget that I know how much you earn.'

Margaret left the office and Milo resumed his speculations. It had been a tiresome week full of tiresome problems, and he could not wait to talk to Glen again. He had to admit that his own problems paled into insignificance compared to those of Glen, who had just travelled the planet in her capacity as Cultural Ambassador, trying to make friends with people who were totally opposed to a central Vennican government. He suspected that Glen would not be a happy person when she arrived home.

The door opened, and Will Avery walked into Milo's office. He was of medium height, but he held himself upright in an oddly old-fashioned, almost military way. His body looked sturdy and strong. Milo stood up and shook his hand. Hard, stubby fingers gripped his.

'Thanks for seeing me at short notice,' Will said. 'You may have heard my name before.'

'There can't be many people on the planet who didn't watch your video when it went public.'

'It wasn't my finest hour,' Will admitted.

Milo waved Will to a chair. 'What can I do for you?'

'I want to ask a favour, in return for which I will do you a favour.'

'I'm not sure if I can accommodate you, but please explain.'

'After the court fracas, I was dismissed from the Security Service,' Will said, 'although it looks as if I might soon be doing some freelance work for them. However, I have my own business interests, and I'm aware that some of the agents I will be working with may take an interest in those activities.'

'What activities are they?'

Will paused, unwilling to reveal more. 'I will tell you everything in due course, but what I am asking is for you to stop the Security Service from interfering with my affairs. If you could do that, I would be very grateful, and in return, I will help you with your problems.'

Milo was puzzled. 'To which of my problems are you referring?'

'For a start, I think I can help you with the fires.'

'I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about,' Milo replied, 'and what makes you think I am in a position to interfere with the affairs of the Security Service?'

It was Will's turn to be puzzled. 'Because you are the Security Secretary; it's your Department.'

Milo laughed. 'I'm afraid you have the wrong man; I'm just the Minister for Home Affairs. The person you need to talk to is Senator McRae. I can put in a word for you if you want.'

'No, that's okay.' Will hesitated, caught off-guard. 'I'm sorry; I must have made a mistake.'

Will turned to leave the room, then stopped, returned to Milo's desk and handed him a contact card. 'I know that we will meet again. By the way, the Phasewave Company is involved.'

After Will had left, Margaret returned to the office. 'Still in one piece, I see,' she cheerfully commented.

'Thank you for your concern,' Milo said sarcastically. 'He thought I was the Security Secretary; maybe McRae is his intended target. I'd better warn the Senator, but I haven't seen him recently. Can you find out his movements?'

'He's been out of his office for the last week, and the rumour is that he is suffering from a long-term illness. Do you want me to try to get a message through?'

'No. It's not that important.'

'Don Gregory has just arrived; shall I show him in?'

'You may as well. Let's get this over with.'

Milo adjusted his jacket, positioned himself next to his desk and wondered, once again, what he was doing there. The door opened and a distinguished-looking man with a head of cropped, white hair walked into the office. Milo put on his welcoming grin and held out his hand. 'Good afternoon, Senator.'

The building was almost empty by the time Milo started locking the cabinets in his office before leaving for the weekend, and he was in a particularly irritable mood. He stared out of the window and tried to work out which event in particular was causing him to feel that way. Although the day had started routinely, it quickly turned out to be eventful. First, Will Avery walked into his office, mistakenly thinking that he was the Security Secretary, and asked a favour, and then Senator Gregory had unexpectedly offered him the job of Secretary of Defence and Security. That was something he definitely needed to discuss with Glen before making a decision. To round off his day, an unknown lawyer had called and left behind a court summons. Milo sighed; he could see that his long-awaited weekend with Glen was already starting to fall to pieces. So what made Will Avery think he had already taken the job as Secretary before he had even heard that the situation was vacant? What was that about fires? And why, after all this time, had he received a subpoena requiring him to give evidence to a Truth and Reconciliation Committee that was investigating his part in the Colonial invasion? He snorted in exasperation. Well, that one shouldn't take too long. Are there any questions? Let me be clear on that. You think there is something in the corner of the room that nobody wants to discuss. An alien, you say. Oh, an invisible alien. Aren't you a bit old to believe in aliens? What is your next question? That would be good, but he knew that it would not work out that way. Aggressive strangers were going to spend hours asking the same questions repeatedly and stretching his already short patience to the limit. He needed to sit on that bit of news until later; there was no need to involve Glen just yet.

For the first time in years, Milo felt unsettled. He locked the last of his cabinets and was about to leave the office when he noticed the envelope containing Margaret's lucky dip lying in his in-tray. He opened it and read the words "Secretary of State for Defence and Security". Now he was even more unsettled, and, to add insult to injury, he was down fifty dollars. At least three people appeared to know more about his life than he did. Why had the Phasewave Company, hardly friends of his after their interference in his last case as an investigator with the Justice Department, popped up again? Maybe that was just a coincidence. Suddenly, the past, present and future seemed to be closing in on him.

#####  Chapter Four

Flashback: Hinterland, Vennica – Colonial year 1457

Having given Justin an exciting, and at times terrifying, ride to Salaman airport in Hinterland, the burly man with gold-filled yellow teeth retrieved his bag from his rusty auto's boot and accompanied him into the departure terminal.

'Thanks for the lift, Garul,' Justin said. The other man grunted, as if to remind him that his name was not Garul. Although he could hardly understand a word the other man said, his name sounded something like Garul, but it could have been anything. People from Hinterland did not appear to have a language, just a collection of different grunts, yet despite Garul's lack of linguistic skills, he often acted as an intermediary during local purchase transactions, to Justin's constant amazement.

Garul paused once they were inside the terminal and reached into the depths of his layered clothes, from where he pulled out a small, warm bottle of oily alcohol and presented it to him.

'Thanks. I'll drink this on the way home,' Justin said, making a mental note to pour it down the toilet at the first opportunity.

'Good. You go well. See back soon.' Garul gave Justin a massive hug that ground the glass bottle he was holding into his ribs. Justin felt the bones in his chest bend and just managed to hold back an exclamation, after which he smiled a farewell and watched Garul disappear back into the drop-off bay. He carefully massaged his ribs and looked around him. The terminal looked like a converted cargo shed, and contained no check-in and security facilities; only a line of ticket machines along one wall indicated its function. The building was practically deserted, and most of the machines were taped off. Justin picked up his bag and made his way to a nearby lounge.

The bar displayed a sign almost apologetically advising customers that all alcohol served was produced on the premises. Justin purchased a beer, took a seat by a window, and speculated why anyone would live in such a godforsaken place. The airline had twice delayed his return flight, and he was beginning to wonder if he would make it back to Kalmis that night. The view from the window revealed the surrounding countryside, where single-story factory buildings stretched as far as the eye could see, and a red, dusty haze of pollution filled the sky. Crumbling roads snaked through the industrial scene, turning into gravel where they reached the edges of Salaman city and prompting him to recall an explanation of Hinterland's original name – The Disputed Territories – whose ownership was disputed because no country actually wanted to own them. Despite being completely lawless, there was surprisingly little crime in the country, which he assumed was probably because it was being run by criminals, who generally looked after their own. In the wet season, the rain brought down pure acid from the sky, and when the winds dropped during the winter, a thick, polluted fog blanketed the country for months on end, making it essential to wear filtering devices when breathing outdoors. A faint, chemical smell tainted the air in the building, and he wondered what the best description of the place would be – the arsehole of the planet or a shit-kicking dump. The dump got the award.

To while away the time, Justin pulled a small, acrylic pendant from his pocket and watched while it produced a flickering, coloured display inside its container. The display looked like a flame, but it did not generate any heat, and he was taking one hundred trial samples to sell through his company in Northland. They ticked the boxes marked "Cheap and Cheerful" and would probably sell well in the festive season.

'That's a cute little sucker.'

He turned to find a tall, attractive woman looking over his shoulder. She flashed him a big smile, then walked round the bench seat and sat next to him.

'I'm Kim,' she said. 'Can I take a look?'

'Sure.' He handed over the pendant. 'I'm Justin Morgan, by the way.'

'Hi, Justin.' Kim examined the pendant closely. 'Where's the battery in this thing?'

'It doesn't have one; the crystal makes that display when it reacts to the light.' Justin held up his glass. 'Would you care to join me?'

'I'm going to pass on that. I can't get used to drinking in places where they make the booze in the bar, but thanks for the offer.'

'The beer's not too bad.'

'Mind if I try?'

'Go ahead.' He watched as Kim cautiously took a sip.

'That's okay, but I think I'll hold off until we get back to Kalmis.' She put the glass down on the table, and Justin noticed a red crescent where her lips had made contact with its rim.

Kim played with the pendant. 'This is clever. Are you in sales?'

'I have suppliers here who produce stuff like this. It also comes as a paperweight; I guess that's the desktop version.' Justin was a man with an eye for women, a wandering eye that in the past had led him into trouble during his travels. However, he had always managed to keep that information from his wife, Anna, who was a loyal little thing, and the fact that she was also rather wealthy had proved invaluable when she had been called upon to subsidise some of his more unpredictable and risky business ventures. As a result, he always maintained the appearance of a happily married man whenever he was at home in Kalmis. He gave Kim a quick, practised scan and took in her slender legs, blond hair and delicate, manicured hands. He felt his pulse quicken.

'I love them,' Kim said. 'Perhaps you would like me to market them for you. You could call them Glow-Babies, no, make that Glo-Babes, for the teens. My partner is a media producer, and he can get me product placement through his company on several TV channels. I reckon these would show off well in jewellery. I can see a necklace of transparent balls containing them. You could call the jewellery Glo-Belles, or Glo-Baubles or something like that. This thing is pure crap, but it can make you good money if we market it properly. We need to identify and go after the right sections and age groups. It'll be one of those quick in-and-out fads of the year, followed by a trip to the tip. How many can you let me have?'

Kim's enthusiasm pleasantly surprised Justin. 'I've only got a hundred. Are you sure they'll sell?'

'Believe me; they'll go like hot cakes. Give me fifty, and I'll see what I can do. If they take off, the demand will go into hundreds of thousands. Can your supplier cope with those numbers?'

'If the market's there, I'm guessing he could.'

Kim fished around in her handbag and gave him a business card. 'Let's talk when we get back to Kalmis.'

An old, battered tug dragged an even older and more battered domestic cruiser to the terminal in front of them. 'I hope that's not ours,' Justin said.

'Right now, I'll catch any ride home to get away from this shit-hole,' Kim commented. 'Even in that rust-bucket. Do you spend much time here?'

'A few weeks a year. This place is full knock-offs; if you can't find what you want in Hinterland, they'll make it for you while you wait.'

'Well, maybe we've both struck lucky.' Kim got up and made to leave.

'The flight's not yet been called.'

Kim smiled. 'I always travel first class. I'm off to hide in whatever passes for luxury in this place.'

Kim gracefully traversed the terminal hall, and Justin knew that they would definitely meet again. He checked the card Kim had given him, then looked at the red curve on the glass and wondered what the lips of Kim Cassell, of K&S Associates, would taste like. Maybe the Glo-Babes would turn out to be a worthwhile investment after all.

Four weeks later, Justin lay in Kim's bed, exhausted by his recent sexual encounter with her, and tried to work out whether his fatigue was caused by advancing age or lack of physical fitness, or, more realistically, because Kim behaved like an animal in bed. In truth, it was probably a combination of all those reasons, he finally decided. He thought about the joint venture he and Kim had set up, with Justin responsible for sourcing the crystals and Kim looking after the sales and marketing of the Glo-Babes. Following a successful trial run with their samples, the first batch of a thousand Glo-Babes had flown off the shelves as soon as they had arrived. His relationship with Kim had quickly become intimate, and he now paid weekly visits to her house on the outskirts of Kalmis. A heady aroma of sex and perfume filled the rumpled bed. He turned on his side to where a photo frame propped up on the bedside table confronted him. It showed an older man and a young girl. He guessed that the figures were Kim's partner, Mark and her pretty daughter, Maria, although Kim rarely mentioned them. He was still speculating when Kim returned from the bathroom carrying a media pad and climbed back into bed, revealing a long expanse of smooth, pale skin the length of her naked body.

Justin nodded at the photograph by the bed. 'We really shouldn't be doing this in your house.'

Kim yawned. 'I thought you liked having sex with me.'

'That goes without saying, but what would happen if your partner and daughter came in and found us together?'

Kim stretched out on the bed and Justin stared, mesmerised, as her breasts changed shape. 'Mark is away on business for a few days and Maria is at boarding school until the weekend. Relax.'

Justin watched her. She looked stunningly sexy, and he could not get used to the fact that she was now lying in the bed next to him or that she found him sexually stimulating. He considered himself a very lucky man.

Kim sat up and switched on her media pad. She checked the display. 'Here's the latest update on the Glo-Babes. Several TV channels have now displayed the Glo-Babes at peak times, and my marketing company is telling me that they have generated a large amount of interest. Things are picking up; how are you doing with the supplier?'

'I've ordered a batch of one hundred thousand. I hope you're right about this, or we're going to end up buried in the things.'

'Judging by the interest so far, I think you should already be looking at an order for an extra hundred thousand.'

'The first big order is due here next week.' Justin took Kim's hand and held it to his lips. 'I just want you to know that meeting you was the luckiest moment of my life.'

'Oh, no. I got the best deal.' Kim pulled him close to her and ran her hands through the hair on his chest. 'You are such a kind and sensitive lover.' She rolled on top of him and ground her hips against his, feeling his instant arousal. 'Now, take me again, you crazy sex machine.'

A few weeks later, Justin turned up at Kim's house for their regular mid-week triste and unexpectedly found Kim waiting for him with a glass of wine.

'This is nice,' Justin commented. 'What is the occasion?'

Kim led Justin into the lounge. 'Before we go upstairs,' she said, 'I have to tell you that Mark has been plugging the Glo-Babes through one of his media companies, and he has reported a big surge in demand. The Glo-Babes have now become the must-have craze of the moment.'

'That's great news. How much have we made?'

'The money is pouring in; at this rate we should soon clear a million dollars.'

Justin whistled. 'I never thought they would go this well.'

'It's the TV content that does it. Media exposure can either make or break you, but these things are really moving, and we need to look at broadening the scope while they are active.'

'The market here must be already saturated.'

'Now is the time to start a marketing campaign in Southland, where the population is ten times that of Northland.'

'Hold on,' Justin said. 'I accepted the Glo-Babes on the understanding that they could only be sold in temperate climate areas, such as ours. Apparently, the Glo-Babes overheat in warmer environments.'

'Well, if we decide to go to Southland, we must do it soon while the Glo-Babes are still in the public eye. Let's take our wine upstairs, and you can think about it while we make love.'

When Justin called round the following week, Kim greeted him with a glass of champagne and a huge, moist kiss.

'This must be an extra special occasion,' Justin said. 'What are we celebrating this time?'

'I have a something to show you. Come with me.'

Justin followed Kim around the house to the back patio and stopped in amazement. Before him, a metre-tall Glo-Babe was waving around in the open air. 'What have you done?' he asked.

'I broke one open,' Kim said. 'Look at the size of the display – it's much bigger. These are perfect for gardens and patios.'

'You don't know what risks you are taking. This could be dangerous.'

Kim walked up to the display and thrust her hand through the Glo-Babe's display. 'Look. There's no heat, and no problem. These are going to sell like mad.'

'I'm not sure. I agreed to sell them only in Northland and only in their sealed containers. There must have been a good reason for those restrictions.'

'The proof is before your eyes.' Kim finished her champagne. 'I've got an even bigger surprise for you.' She took Justin into a garage where she had been working on a bench. Bits of shattered acrylic covered the floor. 'I've found out how to make the crystals.' She removed a crystal from one of the open containers, placed it on the steel bench and cracked it with a hammer. The crystal split neatly into two. Kim switched on the interior lights, and two small displays grew and flickered on the benchtop. 'That's how it's done; now we can cut out the middleman.'

Justin looked on in horror. 'You should not be doing this. It isn't right.'

'Then let me show you something else.' Kim picked up a cardboard box and took it outside. 'These are crystals I split earlier.' She shook the crystals out over the patio and watched as the displays started to spring to life in the sunlight. Soon the whole patio was ablaze with a shimmering sea of coloured lights. 'These are not for Northland; these are for Southland, where the climate is hotter and the market is huge. We have to take advantage of it. Now we have found out how to reproduce the crystals, we can start up our own factory.'

'We have a contract with our supplier in Salaman. Let's not rush into doing our own thing.'

'Who the hell cares what happens in Salaman,' Kim snapped. 'This is our product, and with it we can make an absolute killing in Southland. It's a prime target.'

'No, I won't do it.'

Kim started to lose her patience. 'I'm not going to miss out on this opportunity, and if you haven't got the balls for it, I'll call in someone else to sort out the Southland market.'

'We must be careful. There might be problems using the crystals in a free state in such a hot climate.'

'In that case, you can go to hell. I thought you were someone I could take with me, but you obviously aren't. Go back to your little wife. I am sure she will be delighted to welcome you into her bed. Go away, and don't come back.'

Driving home that night, Justin was a very unhappy man. His whole world had come crashing down in one stupid misunderstanding. Would Kim contact his wife? He shuddered at the thought. Anna would definitely not want to hear about his philandering over her messager. What about the million dollars they had earned? Kim's company controlled all the finances, so how could he get his hands on it? Financial aspects aside, it looked like his anticipation of endless, fabulous sex had suddenly, and surprisingly, reached a grinding halt. Would she tell Anna? Would Kim come back to him? Something in her words and actions indicated that it seemed most unlikely.

Justin tried to concentrate on the road ahead, but waves of rising panic started to divert his attention and he tightened his grip on the auto's steering wheel. What would he say to Anna if she found out? It did not bear thinking about. Within a short space of time, his whole world had crumbled, and he cursed the moment when he had first set eyes on the tiny crystals that now threatened to destroy his future.

#####  Chapter Five

Kalmis City, Vennica – Colonial year 1459

Milo sat on his balcony, taking in the morning sun. He had slept well and was feeling more positive after putting the previous day's events behind him. Glen had safely returned, exhausted from her tour of the Vennican countries, and had now been asleep for fourteen hours. It was about Glen that Milo was thinking when she finally joined him on the balcony. She flopped onto a couch and watched while he made her a drink. She looked tired and puffy-faced and had dark circles under her eyes. Milo thought how vulnerable she appeared, sitting on the outdoor furniture wrapped in a bathrobe, pulling back her unruly hair. He returned and handed her a coffee and wished that he had done more to persuade her not to embark on her mission.

'Dare I ask how things went on your travels?' he asked.

'It was awful,' Glen replied. 'Until I reached Southland, I had no idea how bad things were. Everyone there hates the Vennican government, and most of the places we visited would have preferred to take their chances under Colonial rule. They had actually been disappointed when the invasion failed. I guess the best we could say about our receptions was that we were treated with indifference, but we did receive death threats on a couple of occasions, which meant that our party spent most of its time eating and sleeping on board the cruiser.'

'Who made the death threats?'

'I've no idea, but some of our destinations provided us with armed escorts whenever we went walkabouts. I think I was more concerned about them than the actual death threats. Almost everywhere, the people blamed the Vennican government for everything that happened, from the weather to their economic woes. It was always someone else's fault, even the fires. The whole journey was a very negative experience for everyone concerned.'

Milo remembered Will mentioning fires. 'To which fires are you referring?'

'In Southland, numerous fires have started in landfill sites, and they are proving impossible to extinguish. Pollution caused by the fires is affecting this season's red bean harvest, so make the most of your coffee while it lasts.'

'Why haven't I heard anything about these fires? I go through all the news and attend numerous government meetings, but until yesterday, I hadn't heard anybody talk about problems in Southland.'

'Southland is the problem. The media here are totally against the country; it's almost as if they've made a joint agreement never to mention it. I was as surprised as you are to find that they are facing a serious situation. If this had happened in Altar or Norvik, the headlines would have been splashed across the world.'

'Have they asked for government help?'

'I think their national pride would prevent them approaching the government. Just wait until people here can't get their daily fix; there will be a revolution. We can talk later, but right now I need to go and make myself look and feel at least half presentable.'

After taking a shower, Glen returned looking more refreshed. 'So what have you been up to while I've been dashing around the world?'

'Not very much, actually, just the usual rounds of pointless meetings and boring briefings. Yesterday, however, turned out to be interesting: a man called Will Avery stopped by and asked a favour.'

'Isn't he the guy who bashed the lawyer?'

'That's him. He mentioned the existence of fires but mistakenly thought I was the Security Secretary, so I was unable to help him. Just before he left, however, he said we would meet again and that the Phasewave Company was involved.'

Glen's ears pricked up. 'Not that lot. Don't tell me they're up to their old tricks again.'

'He didn't have time to say any more. I'm not sure where he's coming from.'

'If he knows something about Phasewave, you must see him. I can't face the thought of eating out again, so why don't we have him round for dinner. He will be safe, won't he?'

'Don't worry; Margaret has threatened him with what will happen if he steps out of line.'

'That would frighten anyone. How is she nowadays? I need to catch up with her sometime.'

'She's her usual force of nature. However, my day got even more bizarre. After Will's visit, I had a meeting with Don Gregory, which I had assumed was to discuss budgets. Instead, he offered me the job of Secretary of Defence and Security.'

Glen's eyes opened wide. 'Wow! Did you see that coming?'

'No, but apparently Will and Margaret did. She cost me fifty bucks. How could she have known about that?'

'You're a soft touch, Milo. Everyone knows that Andy McRae has been ill for a long time, and Margaret is friendly with all the government aides. She knows exactly what's going on; it was a no-brainer for her.'

'I need to talk to you about the job,' he said.

'That's also a no-brainer. Your Minister's position is driving you stir-crazy, and there is nobody in the government today who could take on those two roles. You are the only person for the job. Bear in mind that this is the second most influential position on the planet. You can't turn it down.'

'Let's talk it through this weekend.' He wondered whether to tell Glen about the subpoena but decided to wait for a more appropriate moment.

Glen got to her feet and held her aching back. 'Six weeks is a long time; I need a good massage.' She took Milo by the hand and guided him to the bedroom. 'I want you to rub these big paws of yours all over me and turn me into a human again.'

Later that morning, Milo gently extricated himself from Glen's sleeping embrace, put on some clothes and went out onto the balcony. He looked over the city skyline and thought back to earlier times when he and Glen had become involved in the strange investigation of a young space systems engineer called Jenna Hale, who had returned from Bouron claiming that an alien had been accidentally created by a Phasewave machine when it processed space debris brought down on an incoming transmission. What made the case more complicated was that by the time Jenna arrived on Bouron, four members of the previous engineering crew had already died, allegedly killed by the alien. Jenna returned to Vennica with another of her crew, Brant, and at the end of the investigation, Jenna, Brant and Declan, the lead investigator, later died inside one of the machines. It felt like it had happened a long time ago, but in other ways, it was difficult to believe that it had happened at all.

The sound of a rocket motor disturbed Milo's reverie, and he looked up to see a shuttle-ship climbing from its launch into the sky for the trip to Spaceport. He followed its progress until it faded to a tiny black speck against the cratered background of the giant Vennican moon that hung in the sky overhead and wondered where the new events, especially the arrival of Will Avery, were taking them.

The next evening, Milo answered the door chime and let Will into his apartment. They joined Glen in the lounge. 'I'd like to introduce you to my partner, Glen,' Milo said.

Will shook Glen's hand. 'Hello. I feel as though we've met before.'

Glen smiled at him. 'I don't believe we have met, but thank you for coming to supper at such short notice.'

'I remember seeing you in the news after the invasion.'

'That was some time ago,' Glen said. 'We've come a long way since then.'

Will sat next to Glen on a sofa while Milo opened a bottle of wine.

'If you don't mind me saying so, Glen, you look even better in real life than on screen,' Will said.

'You have a good memory.'

'Only because every press release at the time contained a picture of you while the stories were all about Milo. I saw you take the stage with Milo that day, and I remember thinking how photogenic you were.'

'It's very kind of you to say so. For that you get another portion on your plate.' Glen got up and uncovered a buffet on a table in an adjoining room while Milo poured everyone a glass of wine.

Glen finished preparing the table and picked up her glass. 'I hope you will excuse me, but I am ploughing through a dreadful report which needs to be in tomorrow. Help yourself to eats; I'll be back for more wine when I feel the need for moral support.' Glen left the men together and disappeared into the adjoining study.

'It looks like Glen has put the boat out,' Will said. 'Good food, good company and a great location – what more could you want?'

'Come next door and grab a bite. Do you have a partner?'

'I have a girlfriend who may or may not be about to move in with me. I'm not very good at looking after myself, and if I'm honest, I don't generally have much luck with the opposite sex.'

The two men served themselves from the buffet and ate in silence for a while. Milo eventually broke the silence. 'I would like to start by asking you why you thought I was the Security Secretary.'

'I made an incorrect assumption,' Will replied, 'but I'm not normally wrong. Are you in line for that job?'

'I can tell you in confidence that I have been asked to fill that position, but I am still considering the offer.'

'I'll put money on your acceptance.'

'That may be, but you made your assumption at a time when I had not been offered the job, or even been aware that it was vacant, so you could only have received that information from another government department. Which one have you been dealing with?'

'I can categorically assure you that no other department is involved.'

'I won't continue this conversation unless you are honest with me. If you haven't been primed by a member of the government, are you telling me that somehow you can predict the future?'

'Okay. I understand your concerns, so let me start by explaining why I contacted you. I am working with the Security Service and I have a private life that I do not want investigated by my co-workers. I also want to avoid the attentions of the Phasewave Company.'

'What is so special about you that these agencies want to investigate?'

'I have benefited financially from a unique ability: I can predict future events.'

Milo snorted. 'You are wasting my time. Nobody can see into the future.'

'I don't actually see into the future; the future comes to me.'

Milo stood up. 'For a moment, I took you seriously, but now I think it is time for you to leave. Let me show you the door.'

'No, I can prove everything that I say to you. Please allow me that opportunity.'

Milo reluctantly returned to his seat. 'You have one more chance.'

Will gathered his thoughts. 'I receive bits of news from the future. Most of them appear to be news bulletins, or fragments of news bulletins. Very few are complete, and often the dates to which they relate are not clear. It was from one of these news flashes that I picked up your appointment to Security Secretary, but I obviously got the wrong timing.'

'Where is all this information coming from?'

'I haven't been able to determine the origins of the transmissions; all I know is that I receive data from up to four years in the future, and I suspect that it is somehow linked to the Phasewave network.'

Mention of Phasewave again piqued Milo's curiosity. 'I would like to hear how you worked that out.'

Will held out his empty glass. 'Do you mind? Do you have any whisky?'

Milo brought a bottle of spirits and two fresh glasses to the table. He poured them both a drink.

'Let me start from the beginning,' Will continued. 'I didn't receive news from the future until one year ago. At first, I thought it was just my imagination, until I acted upon some financial information and made money on the stock market. That led to gambling and betting upon sporting fixtures, the results of which I was already aware. Banks become suspicious when private individuals start depositing large sums of money, so I had to set up a trading company and associated trusts to keep them happy. I made sure that my wealth and activities remained hidden from my workmates in the force because I knew that if they found out, they would automatically associate my gains with illegal and drug-related activities, especially if I could not explain how I obtained all that money. Any such accusations against a serving agent would inevitably lead to an investigation and possible corruption charges. Whatever the outcome, my days as an investigator would be over.'

'If you don't mind me asking, what kind of wealth are we talking about?'

'I made tens of millions of dollars, far more than could be attributed to luck alone. I had to stop trading because I could no longer justify the amounts of money I was pulling in.'

Milo pondered the information. 'You say that this only began one year ago; what were your circumstances up to that point?'

'I always knew that I had intuition, and I was lucky when I gambled. I seemed to have a knack at second-guessing, which was enough on its own to make me financially independent. I attribute that to a defect at birth. I was born with a misshapen skull and, after the doctors examined me, they scheduled me for termination, which was the accepted process at the time, but at the last minute, an experimental medical establishment stepped in and managed to rebuild over half my skull with expanding metal mesh. The organisation, which was one of those quasi-medical institutions established only to soak up government funding, had to close down a year later, but it saved my life. I obviously didn't know anything about it at the time until, as a child, I started to hear music in my head, particularly when I walked near a radio transmitter. The metal cage inside my head was acting as an aerial, and I believe other people have had similar experiences after cranial surgery. To help me, the medics made me a hat with wiring inside the rim that blocked out radio transmissions – they called it my electric hat. Then, one year ago, I started to receive media transmissions from the future. I knew they were not the normal radio transmissions because my electric hat had no effect on them. Being curious, I tried to track them down and found that they were clearest and strongest when I was near the Kalmis Phasewave base, which is why I believe its system was somehow creating those future transmissions.'

'How can Phasewave transmissions be sent back in time?'

'I am no technological expert, but my understanding of the Phasewave system is that the Phasewave machines process transmissions in order to remove any time-lag and allow real-time communications throughout the Phasewave system. The only scenario I can think of which could explain the incoming transmissions is that in the future, a Phasewave machine malfunctions, and instead of removing the time lag, it overdoes the process and inadvertently sends those transmissions back in time. However, I must stress that I have no way of proving that concept.'

Milo helped them both to another drink. He did not fully believe what he was hearing, but there was something sinister and compelling about the involvement of the Phasewave Company. 'I still find it difficult to accept what you are saying; it does not make sense. Surely, having a rebuilt skull cannot make you aware of what is happening in the future.'

'Listening to the local radio station did not bother me, and I enjoyed the music. The future transmissions further confirmed their source when I picked up a headline stating that next year the financial regulator takes legal action against the Phasewave Company after it discovers that the Company is using unidentified sources of financial information to manipulate the share market. Another headline identified those sources as coming from future transmissions and claimed that the Company believes that other organisations and individuals are doing the same thing. It also stated that the Company intended to employ a team of detectives to investigate reports of individuals who have received sudden or unexplained increases in wealth. That is causing me concern, because I am one of those individuals, and the last thing I want is for Phasewave investigators to start poking about in my affairs.'

'Even before that, you said that you were making a living as a gambler. In what way would a metal skull help you in that respect?'

'I don't think it did. While I was growing up, I had to return to hospital every few years to have the metal section of my skull expanded. On one occasion, a medical team tested me and I demonstrated that I could always beat the odds of probability. The doctors concerned could not fully explain why, but they reached the conclusion that somehow my brain had split and the two halves were able to operate independently. I think that would explain why I can make deductions and analyse conflictions in a way that others cannot. I can clearly see two sides to every situation and am able to perform independent tasks simultaneously with either hand. Whatever condition is enabling that facility is particularly useful in my line of work because I can always understand the opposite point of view. I don't become fixated or subject to decoy manoeuvres. The flip side is that every now and then the wires seem to get crossed, and I reach a point where I cannot control my actions and react violently, as you saw that day in court.'

'I still don't understand how you can see into the future,' Milo said.

'I will be able to demonstrate that to you. You are involved in those future events, which is why I am here tonight. You will be responsible for saving Vennica from a major calamity.'

'I think you are referring to something that has already happened.'

'I am not referring to the Colonial invasion; this involves the fires in Southland. I will be able to help you control those fires if you will do what I ask of you.'

'For the moment, let's suppose that I agree to your request; tell me about the fires.'

'The fires are burning all over Southland. I don't yet know what causes them, but I understand that they are burning down into the ground at vast temperatures and conventional fire-fighting methods are ineffective. You actually manage to bring those fires under control and stop the pollution that threatens the planet. I don't have any more information at this time, but I expect to receive more news as the situation develops.'

'Those fires don't sound like natural occurrences. Could something on that scale have been started deliberately?'

'I think that is the most likely scenario, and I already have a name to check out. He is living in Kalmis.'

'Are you planning to visit this person?'

'Do we have a deal?'

'There are certain political smoke and mirror manoeuvres to go through before I officially become Defence Secretary. In answer to your question, though, yes we do have a deal, and I want you to keep me posted on anything you hear on the subject of the fires, especially if you find out what is causing them.'

'You won't regret this. I'll start first thing in the morning.'

Milo undressed and climbed into bed. Glen put down the book she was reading and pulled up the covers.

'Are you ready for lights-out?' she asked.

'Five minutes,' Milo replied. 'Thanks for laying on the meal tonight. I'm sorry you couldn't join us. Did you make any progress with your report?'

'The dreaded report is now all done and dusted, and another sorry episode of my life has finally been put to rest. How did you get on with your new pal?'

'I'm still trying to make him out. My first impression was that he was flippant and presumptuous, but he came up with some very strange information.'

'What was that?'

'I'll tell you tomorrow; I need to sleep on it first. What was your impression of him?'

'I thought he was very nice.'

Milo grunted. 'I wouldn't go that far.'

'Flattery will get you anywhere. You ought to try it sometime.'

'I noticed that you were lapping up his unsubtle attempts at charm.'

'Milo, I do believe that you are jealous,' Glen said. 'For a woman, there's nothing quite as exciting as having two men fight over you.'

'How can you say that? At any time, I was expecting you to roll over and start purring.'

'Luckily for you, nothing you say to me tonight can upset me. I have now finished my report and will die a happy bunny.' Glen turned out the lights.

Milo lay in the dark for a while, thinking about the night's conversation with Will. Before he fell asleep, he arrived at the conclusion that they would be seeing a lot more of him before the mystery of the fires was resolved.

#####  Chapter Six

A day after becoming approved as an authorised agent with the Security Service, Sam was sitting in a spare office familiarising herself with the Departmental Procedures Manual when Alasdair walked in, accompanied by Will Avery.

'Will, I'd like to introduce you to Sam,' Alasdair said. 'She is going to be your partner while you are on active duty for the next few days.'

'I'm delighted to meet you,' Will said. 'You are much nicer than these guys have led me to believe.'

'Take no notice of him,' Alasdair said. 'In this department, flattery gets you nowhere.'

Sam was surprised. Will was not the person she had been expecting; in fact, she was a little disappointed after hearing so much about him. He was only average looking and held himself in an uncomfortable-looking, upright stance, but he did have a likeable manner. Alasdair left them together, and Sam took out her daily brief.

'What were you doing before you came here?' Will asked.

'Nothing in particular,' Sam replied. 'I have the daily briefing sheet. Perhaps you would like to go through it with me.'

'Don't worry about that crap. They always hit you with paperwork when you first arrive. We generally do our own thing.'

Sam hesitated, recognising an impending conflict, one that she was not prepared to lose. 'We will do everything according to Departmental Procedures, which I am sure you are familiar with.'

It was Will's turn to hesitate. 'Nobody is interested in those things.'

'I am, and I intend to stick to them. I'm sorry, but I hold the warrant so I make the decisions.'

'Oh, come on. You're still wet behind the ears, and I've been sent to hold your hand.'

Sam fought back the burning anger that threatened to take control of her. 'You are not holding my hand. You are a contractor, and I am legally responsible for everything you do. It is important that you understand that.'

'Don't be stupid.' Will said. 'I know more about this game than you ever will.'

Sam stared him down. 'I am aware that I have only just started here, but I have been briefed on my duties and intend to stick to that brief. If you are trying to flick me off, I need to clarify your position with Tom Parks.'

Will became angry. He returned Sam's stare but eventually had to turn away, confused by the fact a young rookie was giving him an unexpectedly hard time. Who the hell did she think she was? 'Okay,' he finally said. 'Do whatever you want. Let's not start off with an argument.'

Sam continued to stare at Will and he became uncomfortable. 'Okay, I apologise,' he eventually said. 'Is that what you were waiting for?'

Sam did not respond and continued to give him a glacial stare. Will's anger was turning to confusion. He was used to getting his own way with women and Sam's unyielding attitude was unsettling him. 'I understand that that we've got some interviews to do,' he said. 'Let's go.'

'No,' Sam said. 'You are now reporting to me, so this is what we will do. Every time we start the day, we will sit down here, and I will brief you on the tasks we are going to carry out that day. We will discuss each case before we leave this office.'

Will's face darkened as his anger returned. He stood up and glared at Sam, but she held her ground and stared back at him with a look of contempt.

'This is bullshit,' Will said. 'What the fuck do you know about how this place works?'

'If that is your attitude,' Sam replied, 'maybe you should find another agent to work with.'

Sam's words hung in the air, and she made no move to help Will out. He sat down heavily, struggling to control his mounting anger.

'I understand your position,' Sam said. 'You have worked here before in a senior capacity, but that has changed, and you now have to accept the way I do things. If you can't accept that, there is no point in going any further.'

Will slowly calmed down. After a while, Sam said, 'Let's start all over again.' She stood up and held out her hand. 'I'm Sam. I'm looking forward to working with you.'

A very confused Will shook her hand in return.

'Now, here are today's briefing notes. I need your help to find my way round, so when we're finished here, would you like to arrange some transport for us?'

'Where is this place we're going to?' Sam asked. She was driving an unmarked auto along the freeway while Will attempted to bring up an address on the navigation display.

Will cursed and abandoned his fight with the display. He looked outside and saw a large campus full of buildings approaching in the distance. 'That's the university coming up. I just need to pop in to check on something.'

'We haven't got time,' Sam said. 'We have to track down and take statements from two people in the outskirts of Kalmis, and with the success you're having with the navigation kit, I think that could take all day.'

'It's important,' Will said.

'If it's so important, why hasn't it been logged in the briefing sheet?'

'It won't take a minute,' Will objected.

'We can call in on the way back, if we have time.'

'I'm just asking you for a favour. I was working on a case and was about to come here when I got the sack. I need to confirm the whereabouts of a scientist who works in one of the laboratories. It's on our way, and I would really appreciate your help. It will only take a couple of minutes.'

Sam considered Will's request. It did not appear to be unduly problematic, and a gesture of goodwill would not go amiss. 'Okay, we'll pull over, but we can't spend all day here.'

Sam and Will walked through the main entrance to the university buildings.

'What is the name of this scientist?' Sam asked.

'Professor Leonard Bayer. All I need to do is to meet him physically to confirm that he is still working here.'

Sam remained uncertain of their actions, acutely aware that this was her first assignment and that Will was already stretching the rules. She followed Will into the building.

'Are you from the police?' the receptionist asked.

'No,' said Sam, 'we're from the Security Service.' She placed her warrant badge on the counter.

'Oh, you've come about the break-in.'

'Yes,' Will quickly replied, before Sam could respond. 'Is Professor Bayer in residence?'

The receptionist looked distraught. 'I'm afraid the Professor is no longer with us.'

'Do you know his whereabouts?'

'Sorry. He died.'

Will was briefly lost for words.

'Is there anyone else here who could help you?' Sam asked Will.

'You could try Professor Watson,' the receptionist suggested. 'He took over the laboratory, the one that was broken into.'

'Yes, I'd like to meet him,' Will said, ignoring Sam's frosty look.

The receptionist issued them with directions and a map, and Sam and Will started to walk through avenues of identical buildings.

'This isn't what I agreed to,' Sam said.

'Just give me a minute with this Watson guy, that's all I need.'

'One minute then, that's all you get.'

They stopped at the designated building number and entered a long, narrow laboratory. As they walked past racks of equipment, a wild-eyed man in a white boiler suit stepped out from behind a cabinet and confronted them.

'You were quick,' he said. 'I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.'

'We do our best,' Will replied. 'You say your laboratory was burgled.'

'Come with me, and I'll show you. I'm Bruce Watson, by the way.'

'Sam and Will,' Will said, pointing to each of them. 'Security Service.'

They followed Bruce, and Sam thought how scruffy he looked. He obviously had not brushed his hair for days, and Sam had to fight back an instinct to reach out and run a comb through it. He definitely didn't match her expectations of how a scientist should look.

'I was expecting the police,' Bruce said.

'Your security sent us over here,' Will replied, whilst avoiding Sam's accusing stare.

Bruce opened a door, from which hung a shattered lock, and immediately started to crunch his way across a floor littered with broken glass and utensils. 'Bastards did this,' he said. 'A whole year's work down the drain. Fucking bastards.'

Will stared around the room. It looked as if someone had turned it inside out. 'What did they take?'

'Nothing. They just smashed everything up.'

'Do you know what they were looking for,' Sam asked.

'No idea. The bastards. They didn't find my computer though.' Bruce pulled aside a partition at the back of a benchtop and lifted out a small personal computer.

'Ah,' Will said. 'Are you sure they didn't find it and put something on it?'

'They couldn't have done that. I would have noticed.'

'Whoever did all this damage had a reason for breaking in. If nothing was taken from this area, I reckon that they may have bugged your computer and put it back where they found it.' He turned to Sam. 'What do you think?'

Despite her reluctance to be there, Sam felt herself sinking into the situation. 'It's the oldest trick in the book,' she said. 'Right now, that device could be relaying our conversation to somebody several kilometres away. You need to get it searched and cleaned before it can do any damage.'

'We can do that for you,' Will said. 'Give us your computer, and we'll make sure it gets looked at.'

'I can't let you have this; it's full of personal stuff.'

'It won't be personal when your burglars start looking through it,' Will said. 'After the burglars have copied everything on your computer, nothing in it will be private anymore. Unless we check it out, that is.'

Bruce stared down at the device he was holding. 'Shit.' He looked at Sam. 'What do you think?'

'We can do this in no time at all,' Sam said. 'Do you have a password?'

Sam sensed that Bruce was reluctant to part with his computer. 'There's no need to worry,' she said. 'We're not interested in your personal files. We will only be looking for add-ons that shouldn't be there, like transmitting devices.'

Bruce begrudgingly handed the computer to Sam.

'I know you would always protect your computer,' she said, 'so write the password on a piece of paper for me and put it under the cover.'

Bruce did as Sam asked. 'I need a receipt or something,' he said.

Sam fished in her bag and found the cards Alasdair had given her. She pulled one out and wrote her name on it. 'This is my call number. I promise to have this back to you by the end of tomorrow.'

Will walked around the room, trying to avoid treading on broken glass. He found an object on a bench and picked it up. 'What is this?'

Bruce stared at him. 'It's a paperweight. What else would it be?'

'No, I mean what's this flame thing inside it?'

'It's called a Glo-Babe.'

'What does it do?' Will turned it upside down, trying to work out what was causing the artificial flame.

'You'll break it doing that.' Bruce reached out, snatched the Glo-Babe from him and, to Will's surprise, placed it high up on a shelf out of reach.

Sam and Will exchanged glances.

Will changed the subject. 'I understand from your security people that a Professor Bayer used to work here. What happened to him?'

'He jumped off the roof.'

'What?' Sam cried.

'Suicide. It must be a year since he went off the roof because that's when I moved in.'

'What caused him to do that?' Will asked.

Bruce shrugged. 'Who knows? I never met him; he came from the Colonies, and you know what they're like.'

'Well, you've been very helpful, Will said, 'but I suppose we ought to be on our way.'

'Aren't you going to take prints or photos or traces or something?'

'We don't do much of that nowadays,' Will said. 'If nothing was taken, my money is on the computer.'

'You will be careful with it?' Bruce said.

'Don't worry.' Sam clutched the machine tightly to her chest. 'I'll treat it just like my own.'

'I can't believe you suckered me into that.' Sam manoeuvred the auto into a nominated lane on the highway and left it to cruise on automatic. 'I must be losing my touch.'

Will could not stop laughing. 'You were priceless. I love the way you got him to write his password and poke it under the computer's lid!' He burst out laughing again. 'Where did you learn all that stuff?'

Eventually, Sam started to see the funny side of the situation and allowed herself a chuckle. 'You are so going to get me into trouble.'

'What was that paperweight called again?' Will asked.

'I think it was called a Glo-Babe. I've heard of them, but I've no idea what they're about.'

'He definitely didn't want me to touch it. I wonder why.'

'Now we have a problem getting his computer back to him,' Sam said. 'It wouldn't look good turning up with Watson's computer while the police are checking out the place.' She turned and smiled at Will. 'Or perhaps they don't do much of that sort of thing nowadays!'

Will started to laugh again. 'I had to say something. Anyway, when we get back to the office, I need to find one of our techies to open that computer.'

'I hate to admit this, but I can go through that computer.'

'Your hidden skills keep surprising me,' Will said. 'How come you know about these things?'

'I was always playing around with electronic stuff when I was young. I also had three brothers who treated me like shit, so I started hacking into their media devices and computers and scrambling their passwords or deleting programmes. My brothers were a total waste of space, and they used to come running to me all the time to get their devices fixed, which I usually did, eventually. That went on for years, and the whole time they never suspected that I was the one responsible for their problems.'

'So can you sort this out?'

'Yes, and then you can take it back. Only next time you will be on your own.'

Sam and Will were the only people in the office by the time Sam sat down and started to check out Bruce Watson's computer. After a while, she was satisfied that nothing had been added to the machine and started to look through the stored files, immediately discovering a hoard of pornographic images. She started flicking through them. They were grossly obscene, but one in particular caught her attention, not for its content but because its file size and format did not match the others, despite being similarly labelled. She opened it up and found that there were three layers embedded below the image. Eventually she managed to access them and found what looked like a scan of a report containing scientific formulae.

Will joined her with two mugs of coffee. He looked over her shoulder at the images on the screen. 'You could get into trouble for looking at porn during work-time, particularly if you don't share those with the lads.'

'Don't be disgusting. There's a suspicious file here mixed in with the porn. Take a look at this.'

Will looked down and started reading what look like a report titled ACromite/A-Cromite/Cromite Type A. It contained details and an analysis of a substance of the same names. There was a whole page of formulae, including a reference to a BCromite. The conclusion stated that the substance known as ACromite had the ability to change into BCromite, which was unstable and was described in another document with a different reference number.

'Is that other file in there with the pictures?' Will asked.

Sam went through them again and then searched the rest of the computer for the file reference. 'It doesn't appear to be here, and there were no other files added on or around the date that this was stored. Nothing much has changed on this machine for several months.'

Will slowly walked around the room, deep in thought. 'This document is obviously a scientific report and does not belong here. I wonder if it was originally the property of the previous occupier, Leonard Bayer. Maybe Watson found it in his laboratory when he took over and kept it for his own ends. If the burglars did not discover the computer, this could be what they were looking for.'

'What is your involvement with Bayer?'

'I cannot tell you.'

'You have to. This wasn't related to a previous case at all, was it?'

'I simply cannot tell you.'

'I want to know what Leonard Bayer was doing at the university before his death and how you obtained his name.'

'I will tell you later. You mustn't get mixed up in this.'

'I'm already involved, and this is only my second day in the job.'

'I promise to tell you what you want to know, but not yet. First, let me run something by you. When I picked up the Glo-Babe, Watson was uneasy and grabbed it from me, which is not what I expected. After all, it was only a paperweight, but for some reason, Watson did not want me near it. Can you think of a reason why he would act that way?'

Sam shrugged. 'I haven't a clue. I don't know anything about Glo-Babes; all I know is that I've had it for today. There's nothing on this computer; I think you should return it tomorrow.'

'I'll lock it in my desk overnight. Do you fancy a quick drink on the way home? I know a few lively bars in the area.'

A warning sounded inside Sam's head. In fact, a red light switched on. 'That's very kind of you,' she replied, 'but I have some things to do tonight, so I hope you don't mind if I give it a miss. Maybe we could do that some other time.'

'You don't know what you're missing,' Will said.

Sam smiled sweetly and turned for the door. Oh yes, I do, she thought.

Amelia smoothed back her long, dark hair and clipped it into a tight coil over one shoulder. She reviewed her reflection in the mirror and decided that, under the right lighting conditions, she could possibly pass as good-looking, but never beautiful. Her nose was a bit too crooked and her mouth a bit too wide. At least she had a good figure. She sucked in her stomach and turned sideways, critically examining her profile. She would do. She scraped a line of dried paint off one of her fingernails, checked her teeth, pulled a face at the mirror and went through to the adjoining room to join Sam on the sofa.

'Tell me all about your day at work, and I want to hear everything,' Amelia said. She looked at Sam and noted the pallor of her skin. 'You look done in.'

Sam reached out and held Amelia's hand for comfort. 'I feel as though I have lived two days in one,' she said. 'First thing this morning, I discovered that my agent partner is a local lunatic. It was like looking after a neighbour's errant teenage son. In fact, I ought to be able to claim a childminder's allowance for what I am expected to put up with.'

'He can't possibly be that bad,' Amelia said.

'It gets worse. Apparently, he has history and was recently sacked and re-employed as a contractor. I have also heard him referred to as a "loose cannon", whatever the significance of that is.'

'What history?'

'Nobody wanted to discuss it, and I cannot be bothered to find out.'

'What's the name of this agent?'

'Will Avery.'

'That name rings a bell.' Amelia pulled out a media screen and entered a search for the name. She held up the screen for Sam to see.

Sam stared at the face of her new partner. 'That's him! What has he done?'

Amelia started a video and they both sat and watched a court scene unfold. The picture was clear, but the background sounds were intermittent.

'That's Will, sitting in the dock,' Sam pointed out. 'Is he being tried?'

A lawyer, holding a handful of playing cards in the air, stood before Will. He turned to the jury and made a comment. Laughter could be heard in the background.

'The lawyer looks as if he's about to demonstrate a conjuring trick,' Amelia commented.

'I think Will is giving evidence,' Sam said. 'What's with the cards?'

The lawyer was talking and dropping cards on the floor. Eventually he was left holding one card in his hand. Will had sat motionless while the lawyer performed his trick, but his face by that time appeared to have turned dark red. The lawyer triumphantly turned and held up the last card for the jury to see. The camera zoomed in – he was holding up the Joker. The lawyer then turned and pointed at Will, and the court burst into laughter again.

For a split second, Will remained motionless, and then he suddenly launched himself out of the dock and hurtled across the courtroom. The lawyer had no time to move out of the way before Will jumped upon him and knocked him to the floor. The members in the court stared in shock at the scene unfolding before them. The judge shouted instructions and pounded a gavel on his desk while Will knelt on the lawyer's chest and rained punches onto his face. Then security guards rushed into the court and managed to prise Will away from his victim. Before the camera switched off, it zoomed in on the lawyer's face, which was almost unrecognizable.

The two women were amazed. 'This only took place last year,' Amelia said, 'so how come Will isn't in prison?' She flicked through more reports and added, 'After the attack, the lawyer needed extensive surgery to rebuild his face and he intended to sue Will for everything he owned. Later, however, he dropped all charges against him.'

'Does it say why?'

'No, nothing. Will got away with it. The lawyer must have been paid off.'

'That doesn't sound like the Security Service,' Sam said. 'They wouldn't have cared less if Will spent the rest of his life in prison.'

'Then they must have had something on the lawyer.'

Sam yawned. 'You sound like you should be doing my job.'

'I'm only trying to look after you. Did you really spend all day alone with this loony? It sounds like you need a bodyguard.'

'What I need is a meal; we didn't have time for lunch. How was your day?'

'It was nothing like as exciting as yours. I'm producing a set of calendar illustrations based on historic works of art from Earth. They're fascinating to work on, but the paintwork is unusual, and they are taking forever to finish. Why don't you take it easy while I cook you something?'

'Don't go to any trouble.'

'Leave it to me. It's what friends are for.'

By the time Amelia had prepared a meal, Sam had fallen asleep on the sofa. Amelia looked down on her affectionately and then fetched a blanket, which she draped over the unresponsive figure. Sam had short, blond hair, which curved beneath her chin. In sleep, she looked serene, and Amelia fought back the impulse to reach out and touch her face. Amelia then sat at a nearby table and spent the rest of the evening picking at the meal she had just prepared whilst speculating how long Sam would last in her new job.

#####  Chapter Seven

Southland – Colonial Year 1459

The sun warmed the breeze, and the palms bent under its pressure. Golden sands reflected light into shade and melted the shadows.

'This is the life,' Stephan said. 'Pass me my sunglasses, will you?'

Kim lowered the magazine she was reading. 'What did your last slave die of?' She reached over and dropped Stephan's glasses onto the grass, just beyond his reach.

'I don't know what I see in you.' Stephan sat up and retrieved his sunglasses. He was a young, good-looking man who was used to having his way with women, but his lack of progress in pursuit of Kim was starting to rile him. He put down his glass of champagne, slid back onto the sunbed and stared at Kim, who lay stretched out on the next bed wearing the tiniest bikini. Against her newly acquired tan, the scraps of white material focussed his attention on the parts he could not reach. Just looking at her gave him a pain in his groin. 'I can't believe that you let that Morgan guy into your pants every day, and you won't even let me share your bed.'

'I was paid to fuck his brains out to stop him asking awkward questions,' Kim said. 'You, on the other hand, are paid to do the job you're doing, so you get no sweeteners.'

'I was thinking that maybe I could be a Morgan stand-in, as it were, to keep you in practice. I'd hate to think you were losing your touch.'

'If you are looking for a substitute, make friends with your right hand, or maybe I could give you a nasty electric shock in a private place that would put you off sex for life. I think that you should probably give it a go.'

'You're a hard woman,' Stephan said.

'Don't be jealous of Morgan,' Kim said. 'He was a just a jerk.'

'Why shouldn't I be jealous? It sounds like he was having a good time messing about with you.'

'He's in trouble.'

'What do you mean?'

'I did something a bit crazy before I left; I told his wife about us.'

'You did that? You really are a hard woman.'

'It was payback time for all those BJs I gave him.'

'What did his wife say?'

'Not much. She was more of a listener, but after hearing what I did with her husband, she switched her messager off. I think Morgan is a busted flush as far as his wife is concerned.'

Stephan lay back and tried not to think about the images of Kim and Morgan that were crowding into his mind. He looked around at the swimming pool and their rented luxury apartment. 'Apart from the lack of sex, this sure beats working for a living,' he said. 'Even I am jealous of our lifestyle.'

Kim sat up and looked at the line of two-metre tall Glo-Belles that swayed and fluttered along the side of the pool, pumped into vivid colour by the mid-day sun. 'I guess this kind of life ticks all the boxes,' she said. 'Southland is definitely growing on me, particularly the sixty million potential customers out there who are queuing up to get their hands on our new product.' She lay back down again and reflected upon her relationship with her working partner. Secretly, she was very pleased with the way things were working out with Stephan, and was planning to reward his obvious affections in due course. She was also beginning to wish that they had made the move from Northland sooner in order to catch more of the summer season. Southland was turning out to be a much bigger and more affluent market than she had expected, and over twenty franchises had already signed up to market the renamed Glo-Belles across the whole of the country. Initial reports from the franchises indicated a huge potential, and her first advertising campaign had generated over ten thousand sales in its first week.

Stephan drew up a chair alongside Kim and refilled their glasses. 'I have to say that I'm becoming concerned about the supplies of Cromite coming in from Salaman. The factory there is not the most reliable of suppliers, and if our projections prove to be accurate, I don't think they will be able to keep pace with the demand. We ought to be looking at setting up our own factory.'

'We may end up doing that,' Kim said, 'but definitely not in Southland. The authorities here are strict, and I don't want them questioning why we are producing an unknown substance in their country. That would be difficult to explain. I have another suggestion: at the moment, we pay the factory in Salaman up front, but in order to improve their reliability, from now on I think we should insist that we will only pay on delivery.'

Stephan agreed. 'That's a sensible move. I will inform the factory owner next time we talk, but we still need to expand.'

'Let's not forget why we are doing all this,' Kim said. 'The project is going far better than we anticipated, so let's not be carried away.'

'I really like this lifestyle; we could never enjoy anything like it in the Colonies. Imagine going back and working on Xanthos or some other backwater for the rest of your life. I don't think I could face it. Let's, just for once, live a little.'

'It won't be long now before we see some results, so why would we want to take it further?'

'Time is running out, and after being here, I don't ever want to be poor again. If we were to do one last batch of Glo-Belles, we could put the profits away for our future.'

Kim was unimpressed. 'Do you really want to spend the rest of your days looking behind you, trying to spot the Colonial agent who is tracking you? We already have two of those meatheads in tow, and taking a blade in the back is not my idea of having a good time.'

'Where are those goons nowadays?'

'I haven't heard from them for months. Perhaps they got fed up and went back to the Colonies.'

'Let's hope so,' Stephan said. 'If we do go for a kill, we need not put it through the business. We already have over a million dollars stashed away from the Northland operation. That money doesn't appear in our accounts, and we could use it to finance a batch of much bigger displays. If we channelled the proceeds through a dummy franchise, nobody would be any the wiser.'

Kim thought it over. 'That money includes Morgan's share of our first venture, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we put it to good use,' she said sarcastically. 'That's assuming he ever finds out about it. Before we go any further, are you absolutely certain that it is possible to make the displays any larger than these?' Kim swept her arm along the line of Glo-Belles surrounding the pool. 'They all flare up and stop at exactly the same height, which could indicate that this is their optimum size.'

'You're right. None of them has ever grown over two metres tall, despite all the heat and sunshine. However, I think that it might be possible to increase their output by clumping the crystals together, but I need to talk to the factory first. If I do that, are you in on a deal?'

'I might be persuaded,' Kim said. 'All that talk of going back to the Colonies has certainly taken the edge off this champagne.'

'In that case, I'll make arrangements to visit Salaman. If we were to invest that million and create an even bigger type of display, I'm sure that the demand would be phenomenal. I've already visited the factory where they are cracking the crystals and growing them before delivery, so I'll get them to do some experiments. They caved in last time when I insisted that they supply the raw crystals without the containers, so I think that has set a precedent. '

'Yes, they kicked off about the safety aspects, but they must have been mistaken because we haven't had any trouble whatsoever with the unrestrained versions. Your idea is beginning to sound like something I could run with. Okay, I'll move the money into an account you can access, but make sure that the factory delivers the goods before any money changes hands.'

'No problem. I'm glad you like my thinking.'

Kim picked up her glass and looked around the poolside again. She took a deep breath and savoured the pristine air. 'Where would we be without the likes of Hinterland?' she said.

Stephan looked again at the swaying palm trees and the fluttering Glo-Belles. 'Well, we certainly wouldn't be spending our time doing this. I'll book a flight out tomorrow morning. In the meantime, let's open another bottle of champagne.'

Having just returned from Hinterland, Stephan was again sitting in the sun by the edge of the pool. He was trying to enjoy the cocktail Kim had prepared for him, but his mind was elsewhere, and the drink tasted flat and uninteresting and provided little enjoyment. Stephan was troubled because he had returned from Hinterland empty-handed, and he did not know how to break the news to Kim. The problem lay with the factory in Salaman, which had informed him that it would be dangerous to increase the size of the Glo-Belles and had only agreed to make the attempt at his insistence and subject to the prior transfer of one million dollars into the company's bank account. He tried to put it out of his mind. After all, he reasoned, they would not have taken the payment if they knew there was no chance of delivering a more substantial product, and if they did not try, they would never find out. The weather was fine, and they were making lots of money. More importantly, Kim was turning sweet on him. He was expecting a call from Salaman at any time to advise him that the factory had come up with the new Glo-Belles, and Kim would never be any the wiser. Things usually turned out better than expected.

Kim came out onto the deck and joined him. 'This is great news about the bigger Glo-Belles. When can they deliver?'

'They didn't give a date. The usual, I guess.'

'What did they do in the end to get the bigger displays?'

'They clumped the crystals and exposed them to high levels of ultraviolet light. It worked a treat.'

'How big were the displays?'

'They were touching three metres.'

'Stephan, you've done it! I'm going to start an advertising campaign right now promoting the best and biggest Glo-Belle displays ever, and it's all been down to you. I knew you could sort out that factory.'

'That's right,' Stephan said, although he felt sick with worry, 'and remember, this one is all for us.'

'Give me your glass,' Kim said. 'I'll make you another cocktail.'

Two weeks later, and still with no sign of the new Glo-Belles, Kim was reviewing the latest sales figures. Something had changed. The figures confirmed a sudden drop in sales, although orders were up. 'What do you make of these figures, Stephan?'

'Stephan looked at her media screen. 'Are these figures accurate?'

'I've double-checked them, and I can't find anything amiss. What is causing the drop in sales?'

'The end of the summer season is approaching; it could be a natural dip before the start of the festive season.'

'So why are orders increasing?'

'That could also explain the drop. After the advertising campaign, potential customers may have decided to wait for the bigger versions of the Glo-Belles. They probably wouldn't go for the smaller ones if they knew that a new, improved version was just round the corner.'

Kim frowned. 'This could affect our cash flow. Have you heard from the factory recently? When are they going to deliver?'

'I haven't heard anything.' Stephan felt ill. Only the previous day he had spoken to the factory owner, Bernard, who had categorically informed him that the Glo-Belles had been developed to their limits and that the factory could not safely enlarge them any further. They had also told him that they would not be returning his payment; it would be converted to the purchase of existing stock. It was not what he had wanted to hear.

'Maybe I should go back to Salaman and kick ass,' he said.

'I think you will have to. The franchisees are going to sound off if they are left with a pile of old stock, especially having been promised the new ones.'

'I'll pack my bag and go tonight,' Stephan said.

Kim looked Stephan in the eye. 'Is there anything that you should be telling me?'

'Not at all,' Stephan replied. 'Bernard is a complete waste of time, and the factory is a shambles. God knows how they make anything in that place. We've had delays in the past, so don't worry; I'll stick a cracker up their backsides and bring back a delivery of the best Glo-Belles ever. We're going to get rich faster than you think.'

Three days after Stephan had departed for Hinterland, Kim went through her calculations again and observed that the drop in Glo-Belle sales had continued its relentless slide. On the upside, however, she had just received the news she had been waiting for. One of their franchisees had complained that the Glo-Belle fad seemed to be over, and unwanted Glo-Belles were being dumped into landfills. She heaved a sigh of relief. At last! Now she could start to relax. Everything was going to plan, but it was a pity that they had not had time to make a financial killing on the new Glo-Belles.

That night, she spoke to Stephan in Salaman, who informed her that the factory was still working on the new product and expected it to be ready in a couple of days' time.

Kim told him about the landfill report. 'Come back now,' she said. 'Our job is almost done, and we should soon make the news headlines; there's no point in waiting any longer.'

'It would be nice to bring back one last shipment,' Stephan said. 'It would be our final payoff.'

'I think the market may have already collapsed, and there is no guarantee that sales of the bigger ones will take off this late in the season. We've still got the million dollars; we'll have to make do with that.'

'Okay. I'll take the next flight back.'

Kim only had to spend one more day searching the news headlines before she found what she was looking for. A report stated that a landfill outside a suburban area had caught fire and that the fire services were unable to contain it. That night, a TV broadcast showed pictures of the landfill, which was shooting flames and smoke high into the air while a dozen fire vehicles ineffectually sprayed water into it. Kim opened a bottle of champagne and drank it on her own. She felt relieved. Stephan would soon return, and they could then concentrate on their exit strategy.

A news brief the following morning reported the existence of another landfill fire in Southland. Kim watched the scene unfold with amusement, especially when a smoke-blackened fire chief announced to the camera that they had no idea what was causing the fires. She tried to contact Stephan, but there was no response from his messager, and she assumed that he must be on the flight home. She went back to watching the news but was unsettled to hear that a national authority was starting an official investigation into the fires in conjunction with other authorities across Southland in order to establish a connection between the fires and large numbers of discarded Glo-Belles that had reportedly been dumped in the landfills. The authority was unable to ascertain exactly what substance was causing the fires, or where it came from.

It was the first time that Kim had heard of an investigation; everything was happening faster than expected. Kim paced up and down the lounge of their apartment trying to calculate the timing of their exit. With the latest news of an investigation, she worked out that they probably had only two days to get out and return to the Colonies and safety. She tried to contact Stephan again, but this time there was only a discontinued tone on the line. What was he up to? While she was still holding her messager, it lit up. She answered it, expecting to hear from Stephan, but instead found herself talking to Bernard, the Salaman factory owner.

Bernard sounded as though he was struggling to speak. 'Stephan has been killed in an accident at the factory,' he gravely informed her in a hoarse voice. 'The factory was destroyed by an explosion.'

'How could that happen?' Kim cried. 'What was he doing there?'

'I am sorry to bring you bad news,' Bernard said. 'Stephan was trying to get us to increase the size of the Glo-Belles when an experiment went wrong. The factory has now burnt down. I kept telling him that we could not expand the Glo-Belles any more. It should never have happened.'

Kim switched off her messager and stood, trembling, while she tried to collect her thoughts. Stephan had told her that they had already produced a bigger version of the Glo-Belles, so why were they still experimenting? Something was definitely wrong. Kim decided to shut down the operation immediately, but first she had to transfer the purchase payment to her own account. She accessed the bank account she had set up for Stephan, where, to her horror, she found that he had transferred the million dollars to the factory the previous week. She then realized that Stephan had been lying to her all along, and now she was a million dollars poorer. Distraught and seething with anger, Kim booked a cab to take her to the airport and quickly packed her belongings. After she had packed, all that remained in the apartment were Stephan's personal effects. She needed to destroy them, but was unwilling to burn them outside the apartment in case she attracted attention, and there was not enough time to take them to a nearby dump. In disgust, and still furious with herself for not picking up Stephan's deceit, she jammed all his belongings into two empty suitcases and rang reception to put them into storage.

Shortly after the concierge had picked up Stephan's cases, a horn sounded outside the apartment, signalling the arrival of the cab she had ordered. Kim took one final look at the trappings of her recent, hedonistic lifestyle, fully aware that she would never experience it again, and then headed for the airport to leave Southland on the next flight out.

#####  Chapter Eight

Kalmis City, Security Services Headquarters – Colonial year 1459

Damon and Shaun crouched by an internal office window, watching Sam at work in her office.

'Who do you think will nail her first?' Damon asked.

'She's got nice tits,' Shaun said. 'Nice legs, too. I reckon I can crack her.'

As they watched, Will joined Sam in the office. 'Avery will probably get there first,' Damon said. 'He'll be in like a rat up a drainpipe.'

'No, she's not his type. Will always picks needy women and then, after a few weeks with him, they find that he is needier than they are, and bugger off. Sam's too bossy. She's got short hair; she's probably a lesbian.'

'A hundred bucks says I can get there first,' Damon said.

'Get real,' Shaun said. 'Remember last week when we picked up those girls at the club. What was it yours said to you in the morning? She said you were just an old man with a cold.'

'That was after she spent all night screwing my nuts off. She was manic. I could hardly walk after she'd finished with me.'

They watched Will and Sam talking to each other.

'Don't they make a cosy couple?' Damon said. 'Let's see if we can spoil their day. Watch this.'

Sam glared at Will. 'You are completely unreliable. I've been waiting over half an hour for you.'

'I'm sorry, but I've just found out that I am being dragged into the office today for interview monitoring.'

'You are supposed to be returning Professor Watson's computer.'

'I probably won't be free until later. I'll take it round tonight.'

'We promised him that he would get it back as soon as possible.' Sam's messager sounded. She turned it on and gasped aloud as she found herself staring at a pornographic photograph of a naked couple locked in an extreme and revealing stance. She immediately recognised it as being one of the photos on Watson's computer. A cryptic message beneath the image asked, "Can you do this?"

Sam was shocked. 'Is this your idea of a sick joke?'

Will looked at the photo and turned pale.

'You took this from Watson's computer,' Sam declared.

Will was as shocked as Sam was. He did not know what to say.

Sam became annoyed. She thrust the image before Will's face. 'Why did you send this to me?'

'I...I...I didn't...it wasn't me.' Will stammered. He tried to grab the messager, but Sam pushed him away.'

'This is evidence. I gave you a second chance, and this is how you repay me. You leave me no choice; I am putting in a formal complaint to Tom Parks.'

Sam tried to leave the room, but Will blocked her way. 'You can't report it to Tom. He's old-school; he'll sack us.'

'No, he will sack you,' Sam said.

'Listen to me. I didn't send it.'

'Last night you were looking after Watson's computer. How then did someone else access it and remove this image?'

'Okay, I admit that I sent a few of the photos to the lads. This must their idea of a joke. They didn't mean any harm.'

'You have let me down at every opportunity. I no longer want to be associated with you. Go explain yourself to Tom.'

She tried again to leave, but Will was frantic. 'I'll take all the blame. Please leave the others out of it. They didn't ask me to send the photos, but they could end up losing their jobs if Tom goes off on one.'

Sam hesitated, unwilling to take such a far-reaching decision in the heat of the moment. 'Get out of my sight,' she said.

Will started to object and then made a grab for the messager. Sam felt her arm being twisted in a painful grasp and reacted. She stamped down hard on his foot and pulled away.

Will swore, and then made another move for Sam's messager. 'Give me that,' he hissed.

Sam stepped back and slapped his face as hard as she could. 'Just get the fuck out of my life!' she screamed.

Will clutched his face and staggered backwards, then turned and fled from the office, leaving Sam standing, breathing heavily, in the centre of the room, stunned by what had just happened. Then she became aware of the faces in the office staring through the window at her and realized that they must all have heard her outburst. Feeling numb, Sam turned back to her desk and started to collect her belongings, knowing that she could no longer work there. Minutes later, as she left the office, she spotted Watson's computer lying on the desk and put it under her arm – returning it would be her last act as an agent of the Security Service. Sam walked through the main office with her head held high. Nobody looked at her and nobody spoke. She left the room in complete silence.

'Holy shit,' Shaun said. He watched as Sam's silhouette faded through the exit. 'She went off like a rocket. Did you see the way she clocked Avery? You really fucked that up.'

'Keep your voice down,' said Damon. 'She'll be back. This will blow over.'

'She's emptied her desk, which means that she won't be coming back. What are we going to do?'

'It was Avery's fault. He was the fool who sent us the photos.'

'Is that what you're going to say to Brad Shipley when he turns up in the office? Tom Parks isn't going to be too happy either.'

'Thanks for reminding me. I sent it anonymously, so it can't be traced to me.'

'Can you think of anyone else in this department who would be stupid enough to send porn to Brad Shipley's niece? Now she has quit, and we're going to get hammered.'

'Don't worry,' said Damon. 'I'll come up with something.'

'I know one thing you can be sure of,' Shaun added. 'You can say goodbye to your hundred bucks.'

Trying desperately to hold back the tears that stung her eyes, Sam drove her own auto to the university. She was furious with herself for allowing everything that had happened to take place. One bad move, that was all it had taken to ruin her career, and she had tried so hard. Another auto swerved close by. Sam jumped and pulled her vehicle back into its own lane. She needed to concentrate and think about the future. Her right hand still felt numb from where she had slapped Will. What was she supposed to do now?

The familiar entrance arches appeared ahead as Sam approached the university. She pulled into the auto-park and walked inside the entrance for security clearance. The receptionist took her warrant and left the office for what seemed a long time. There was no sign of a police presence, so Sam was hopeful that she could quickly drop off the computer and leave. The receptionist returned, accompanied by a more senior man who was holding Sam's warrant. She guessed he was the Security Manager. He coolly greeted her and returned her warrant.

'I'm Karl Peterson,' he said. 'Please accompany me.'

Sam followed Karl into an empty, adjoining office and had a bad feeling about what was going to happen.

'I understand that you want to see Professor Watson,' Carl said. 'May I ask why?'

Sam had not anticipated being asked the question, but she was on the spot and had no choice but to bluff it out. 'I visited yesterday with another agent and spoke with the professor. He told me that there had been a break-in at his laboratory.'

'The police attended this morning,' Karl said. 'I notice, however, that you are with the Security Service.' Karl excused himself, and when he returned to the office, he was holding a messager.

'I have to inform you that last night Bruce Watson was murdered in his home. The case is now being handled by the Security Service, and I have a Tom Parks on the line who urgently wishes to speak with you.'

Sam felt the energy drain from her body. She accepted the messager with a feeling of dread.

'What the bloody hell are you doing there?' Tom shouted. 'How did you get involved in my murder investigation? Report back to me immediately.'

Sam could sense that Tom was absolutely seething. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I have left the Department, and I have no intention of ever returning.'

'You will leave this department when I tell you,' Tom said, 'which probably won't be long in coming. You will now report to me and give a full explanation of your movements. If you are not back in one hour I will issue an arrest order.'

Sam returned Karl's messager. Her heart was pounding uncontrollably, and she felt wrung out.

Karl took pity on her and sat her down. He left the room and returned with a glass of water. Sam took the glass and sat in a state of shock, beyond tears or comprehension.

'I'm guessing that you are in trouble.' Karl said.

'That would be an understatement.'

Karl observed some colour return to Sam's face.

'Thank you for the water,' Sam said.

'If you don't mind me asking, how did you come to be involved with Bruce?'

'It was purely by accident. I accompanied another agent to contact Leonard Bayer.'

'Why were you interested in Leonard?'

'I didn't know him personally, but my partner agent said it was in connection with a previous case; he merely wanted to confirm that Bayer was working at the University. We were both surprised to find out that he had jumped off the roof.'

'I knew Leonard fairly well,' Carl said. 'He used to work late and meet me when I was carrying out security checks of the buildings in the evenings. At the inquest, the coroner determined that he had committed suicide, but it is my opinion that he would never have been capable of doing that. It is also difficult to see how he obtained access to the roof. A Telco leases the top floor of the building and controls the only access to the transmitters on the roof, which is by a lift and a door leading onto the roof terrace. I hold the only other door key in a secure safe.'

'What do you think happened?' Sam asked.

'I don't know. I felt at the time that the investigation was half-hearted and failed to establish a motive for why the professor had taken his own life. Leonard was missing his previous life in the Colonies and had no friends or relatives on Vennica. It was an easy case to dismiss.'

Sam thought about the suicide. 'If the roof was inaccessible, how did Leonard get there?'

'Maybe he didn't drop from the roof. There are many windows on the upper floors of this building. He could have jumped, or been thrown, from any one of them.'

Sam returned the glass to Karl. 'I have to go,' she said resignedly. 'If I'm never heard of again, don't send a search party.'

'I wish you luck,' Karl said. 'Try not to worry too much; things rarely work out the way we anticipate.'

After making her way to her auto, Sam sat, unable to face the drive, until she finally burst into tears. After what felt like an age, she managed to control herself and dry her eyes before setting off to face the wrath of the Department. After all that had happened in the last two days, she reasoned, nothing could get worse, so there was no point in speculating about what lay in store for her. Feeling slightly more upbeat, she turned on the radio and started listening to some music. Why not? The music was uplifting. She accelerated back onto the freeway and started to sing along with the song. Maybe Karl had the right idea: maybe things would not work out the way she was anticipating. She could only hope that when at rock bottom, things could only improve. Couldn't they?

'Yesterday, you were given clear instructions on what you were required to do,' Alasdair said, 'and now you are part of a murder investigation, not as an acting agent but as a person of interest. What the hell were you thinking?'

'It's just the way it turned out,' Sam said.

'Save you breath; it was a rhetorical question. Right now, I am seriously tempted to send you packing back to Homeland Security. Before Tom sees you, tell me what all the screaming and shouting in the office was about this morning.'

'Will and I had a disagreement. That's all. It was resolved.'

'If physical contact was involved, it was more than a disagreement. Why did you tell Tom that you had quit the Department?'

'I felt it was the right thing to do.'

'No. The right thing to do would be to give me sensible answers to my questions, but you appear unwilling to do so. Go and report to Tom, and I strongly urge you to be careful what you say to him.'

'As I understand, you went to the university to find Professor Bayer,' Tom said. 'Why did you do that?'

Sam returned Tom's stony gaze in silence.

'Okay. Then tell me why you met Bruce Watson. What was all that about?'

'There had been a break-in, and Bruce thought we were investigating it.'

'And you did nothing to correct that impression?'

'He wanted us to help him; he even showed us his personal computer, which had been hidden.'

'We didn't find a computer when we searched his laboratory and apartment early this morning.' Tom said.

'That is because I have it. I took it away to check for any toxic software that might have been added.'

'So you're a computer expert now, are you?' Tom sarcastically asked. 'Did you hand this computer to our technical department for processing?'

Sam shook her head. Tom stared at her long and hard. He was simmering with anger. 'Give me the computer.' Sam pulled Watson's computer from her bag and handed it to Tom, who continued to glare at her. 'Last night, police received a report from a member of the public and attended the home of Professor Bruce Watson, where they found his body. Initial signs are that an assailant or assailants stabbed him to death. Police Central is short of manpower, so they have transferred the investigation to the Security Service, and I now find that you and Will are already involved. Did you put any of this in your log sheets?'

Sam shook her head again. She was on the verge of tears but was determined not to lose control and start crying in front of her superior. 'It was my decision,' she said, in a quavering voice. 'I take full responsibility for what happened.'

'Would you like me to take you through the long list of things you have done wrong since you became a warranted agent two days ago?' Tom asked. 'Or would the word "everything" cover it?'

Sam shook her head again.

'Well, young lady, do you know what I think?'

Sam did not reply.

'Sam, I think you are in a shit-load of trouble. I will now produce a report for Alasdair, but in the meantime, I suggest that you go and find somewhere to hide, somewhere you can't cause any problems.'

Amelia stood in her lounge and stared at Sam in disbelief. 'How did you manage to get into so much trouble in one day?'

'It started to fall to pieces when I got the porn picture and slapped Will,' Sam replied, 'and that was first thing in the morning. From then on, it just got steadily worse. It really was a crappy day.'

'I have an idea. Why don't we go out tonight? I'll treat you.'

'Thanks, but I don't think I'm up to it. I've blown my chances with this new job, and now I have no idea what to do next.'

'You're better off out of that place,' Amelia said.

'I'm not sure I can stand there tomorrow and take another male-dominated dressing-down. I feel like fleeing the country.'

'Don't talk like that. You know that tomorrow you will face up to them because you are Sam Sergeant, and you are never afraid to confront your problems. This was all Will Avery's fault; why are you taking the blame?'

'No, it was my fault. I knew I shouldn't have let Will get away with what he did.'

'You're being too hard on yourself. It's halfway through the week, so we are allowed wine tonight.' Amelia fetched a bottle and poured them both a glass.

Sam tasted her drink, but it did nothing to lift her spirits. 'How am I going to earn a living? I can't go back to Homeland, even if they were prepared to take me on after this fiasco.'

'You could always do modelling,' Amelia said. 'I can vouch for the fact that you look great in lingerie.'

Sam started to see the funny side of her situation. 'Where would I be without you?'

'I'll always be here for you,' Amelia said. 'Go in there tomorrow and tell it as it is. What is the worst thing they can do – sack you? Well, you have already walked out once, and they are the ones who employed Will Avery. Tell them to stick their job, and if they prefer to employ Will instead of you, that is their lookout.'

'That sounds like something I could do, but I would prefer to have another option to fall back on.'

'You are the only female agent on the force, and you did what you thought was right. They are obviously determined to get rid of you because you are a woman and don't fit into their cosy little chauvinistic world. Stop defending Will and come out fighting.'

Sam drank some more wine. 'Why not?' she said. 'I have absolutely nothing to lose.'

Alasdair sat facing Will and Sam in an interview room. 'Before we start,' he said, 'I want to clear something up. I am asking both of you: what was the shouting match about yesterday morning in the office? I've already been given the stonewall treatment by Sam, so Will, I'm sure you will be able to explain.'

Will glanced at Sam, but she was staring out of the window. 'It was a misunderstanding,' he said.

Alasdair waited, but no more information was forthcoming. 'I see. Now tell me what you know about these pornographic photos that have been doing the rounds in the office.'

Neither Sam nor Will answered.

'I have to tell you that if you two are trying to really piss me off, you are succeeding,' Alasdair said. 'I feel like boxing your heads together. This wouldn't be much of an outfit if an office full of agents, most of whom witnessed your hissy fit this morning, were unable to give me within minutes the information I am seeking, but I need to hear it from you. Stop acting like children and get real. While you consider the stupidity of your lack of co-operation, let us move onto the serious stuff, and I am warning you that if you refuse to co-operate in this matter, I will personally charge you with obstructing justice. Don't think that you are going to walk away from this.'

Sam and Will exchanged glances.

'First question: why were you carrying out another investigation after specifically being allocated your tasks for the day?'

'It was my decision,' Sam said. 'I admit I was wrong and accept blame for what happened.'

'Let's first establish what exactly happened. You called into the university and tried to contact a Professor Leonard Bayer. Why?'

'It was my decision,' Sam said.

'So you said. Now you have to tell me why you made that decision.'

'Sam tried to help me out,' Will interrupted. 'I wanted to find the Professor.'

'Why?'

Will looked frantically around the room, as if seeking help. 'I can't explain.'

'Are you aware that you have now become involved in a murder investigation and are withholding evidence?'

'I really can't help you,' Will said.

Alasdair jumped to his feet. His face had darkened with anger. 'You can't help me! This is not a request. You will supply me with an explanation – now!'

Sam and Will remained silent. Alasdair felt the clutch slip, but could not help himself. 'Get out! Both of you! Get out of my office!'

Sam followed Will as he quickly walked out of the office and into the courtyard outside. As soon as they were out of sight of the building, she grabbed hold of his jacket and pulled him to a halt. 'I hope you are feeling pleased with yourself. You've well and truly screwed up my employment here, and now I'm going to get the sack.'

'I didn't mean for you to become involved at the university, or to get that photo,' Will explained. 'After Alasdair's calmed down, I'll talk to him and make sure he knows that all this shit was caused by me and that you weren't involved in any way. You won't get into trouble.'

'Wouldn't it be better if you told him what he wants to know? Can't you simply tell him why you wanted to see Bayer?'

'I just can't.' Will started to walk away.

'Don't turn your back on me.' Sam followed Will along the footpath outside the headquarters building. 'What's wrong with you? Why are you afraid to speak to me?'

Will did not reply. He lowered his head, and his face became set.

'What are you doing?'

'Stay close to me. Do you have an attack alarm?'

Sam looked ahead, to where two men blocked the path in front of them. She dug around inside her coat pocket and found her alarm.

Will stopped short of the men and pulled Sam in behind him. The two men approached. They were tall, with pale skin and shaved heads, and their clothing signalled that they had not come from Vennica.

One of them held out a card to Will. 'Are you Sam Sergeant?' he asked.

'Yes,' Will replied, before Sam had time to speak. Sam stepped out from behind Will in time to see the flash of a knife blade. Will deflected the blow and punched the man hard in the centre of his chest. Sam heard the crunch of bone and the man fell to his knees. The other opponent attacked, and Will head-butted him in the face. The two men fell in a squirming heap on the ground, where Will rained punches onto his opponent's head. Sam struggled to set off her alarm, until it suddenly emitted a blast of pulsating sound that ricocheted off the walls of the precinct.

The first attacker pulled himself to his feet and, clutching his chest, staggered over to join the fight. He toppled onto Will's back, and Sam again saw the movement of a blade. She let out a loud scream and jumped onto him, driving her alarm into the side of his face. People were running towards them, and a patrol vehicle sounded its alarm, adding to the chaos. Sam hit her assailant repeatedly in the face until he let out a cry of pain and violently threw her off his back. Sam landed heavily on her hands and knees, and then looked up to see the two men staggering away, pursued by security staff from the building. She ran to Will, who was trying to push himself off the ground with one arm. His concerned eyes met hers. 'Are you okay?' he gasped.

'Yes.' Sam looked down. Blood was running out of Will's sleeve and pooling on the pavement. She ripped off her coat and held it against Wills' shoulder, where the blood was seeping through his jacket. 'Medic!' she shouted. 'Agent down! Somebody get me a medic!'

#####  Chapter Nine

'Why would any sane person do this?' Tom asked. 'They carried out the attack in broad daylight right outside the headquarters building, from where they didn't have a hope in hell of escaping. They must have been crazy.'

Alasdair looked down at the photographs on the table. Two men, one with a swollen and bruised face and the other with a broken cheekbone and cracked sternum, looked back at him. 'They must have been desperate.'

'More like suicidal. What were they after? It must have been important.'

'I have no idea; I really don't,' Alasdair said. 'They haven't said a word and have absolutely nothing on them to confirm their identities, not even a building key or money. It's all very strange. We're still running the usual checks, but it looks like they officially don't exist on Vennica. '

'What are you going to do with Sam and Will?' Tom asked.

'Nothing. I need time to rethink this whole thing. Two agents nearly died out there, and I can't equate the seriousness of that to some inter-office squabble. Avery will be out of action for some time, and I'll talk to Sam when she's received medical clearance.'

'Are you going to give her another chance?'

'Yes. Somehow, while they were playing silly buggers with us, they managed to put their lives on the line. I can't imagine that Sam would have got involved with this stuff without Avery's input, although she appears to have given as much as she got. Taking Will back seemed like a good idea at the time, but I'm already beginning to regret taking that decision.'

'Try this,' Alasdair said. 'It'll put you back on your feet.' He handed Sam a half-filled tumbler of brandy. Sam took a sip and almost choked.

'How are you feeling?' he asked.

'I'm okay.'

Alasdair observed Sam's white face, bandaged knees and hand. 'I want you to take paid leave and come back when you feel fit. After that, we can move on. A word of advice from personal experience: don't try to wash blood out of your coat. It doesn't work, so treat yourself to a new one, and bring me the receipt.'

Sam could not believe what she was hearing. 'I thought you were going to sack me.'

'You have taken one for the team,' Alasdair said, 'and this is now a murder investigation. I want you to work with Tom Parks on this case, particularly because you are already involved.'

'That is very kind of you,' Sam said, 'but what about Will?'

'He's going to be out of action for a couple of weeks.' Alasdair pulled out a photograph and showed it to Sam. 'These are the knives your attackers were carrying. The one with the broken blade was used on Will.'

Sam stared at the peculiar knives, one of which had a shattered blade. 'Where did these come from?'

'They are composite blades. They don't trigger metal detectors, so they tend to be popular with the criminal element. When Will was first stabbed, the tip of the blade embedded in his shoulder and broke off. If it hadn't, the second stab in his back would have penetrated his heart. That broken blade snagged on a rib, which saved Will's life. He was very lucky.'

'Is Will returning to work?'

'You seem very concerned for his wellbeing. For your information, I have found out exactly what happened in the office, and I have to say that Will did not show much concern for your feelings.'

'He did save my life; that blade was meant for me.'

Alasdair laughed. 'Why is it that whenever I talk to you, you always manage to turn the conversation in a different direction? It was Will who got you into trouble in the first place, but at least we now know that he wasn't responsible for sending you the photograph.'

'I think I already worked that out.'

'On your first interview, you said you wanted to see some action. Now I suspect that you may now be regretting those words.'

'This wasn't exactly what I had in mind.'

'Are you going to visit Will in hospital?'

'Yes. I'll call in on the way home.'

'Regardless of today's heroics,' Alasdair said, 'I need to discuss something serious with you. It is imperative that I know why Will was searching for Leonard Bayer, and I cannot allow Will to resume work until he provides me with a full account of his actions. Since your arrival, a veritable tsunami of misadventures appears to have come your way. I am not blaming you for anything that has happened so far, and your determination not to implicate Will is way beyond the call of duty. What I am asking is for you to talk to Will and make him to co-operate with this Department, because he is now involved in a murder investigation and is facing arrest if he withholds evidence.'

'I'll try, but I'm not sure I can change his mind,' Sam said.

'Just bat those blue eyes of yours at him and use your feminine charms. Be sure to tell Will that we are committed to obtaining that information, whatever the means; he will know what that entails.'

Sam entered the hospital room where Will was lying on a bed with his left arm suspended from the ceiling by a system of straps and pulleys. Will's face lit up when he saw her.

'How are you?' Sam asked.

'I'm cooking on gas. They keep checking on me every hour, as if I'm going anywhere attached to this thing.' Will observed Sam's bandaged knees and hand. 'What's the damage?'

'Playground cuts and scrapes. I hear you were so tough that you broke the knife with your back.'

'I didn't feel the cuts at the time, but when the surgeons started digging bits of blade out of my shoulder, I nearly passed out.'

'I don't believe you,' Sam said. 'I spoke to Alasdair this morning, and he told me that they have caught the attackers. Apparently, they didn't make much effort to escape.'

'They were an odd couple. Do we know who they are?'

'They weren't carrying any identification, and a photo search didn't come up with anything either.'

'From the clothes they were wearing, it looked as if they had come from off-planet; they definitely weren't from these parts, and, judging by the bits they dug out of me, the knives they were carrying were made from a non-ferrous composite.'

'What is the significance of the knives?' Sam asked.

'I don't know, but knives like that would not be picked up by standard screening equipment. Maybe they couldn't access weapons and had to improvise. Who knows what they were thinking?'

'That sounds logical,' Sam said. 'How long do you reckon you will be in here?'

'From what little anyone will tell me, I expect to be out of here by the end of the week. Has Alasdair decided anything about our futures?'

'He told me that he knows everything that went on between us, and I'm not going to get the sack.'

'Good for you. It was my fault and it's only right that I take the blame.'

'It's not what you think; Alasdair wants you to return when the medics clear you. However, there is a condition: you have to reveal why you persuaded me to visit the university looking for Leonard Bayer.'

'I can't explain, and I don't want to talk about it.'

Sam reached out and grasped the straps attached to his arm. 'How would you like me to give these straps a good jerk.'

Will's eyes appeared to come out on stalks. 'What!'

Sam dropped her arm. 'I was just joking. Seriously, you know you don't have a choice. You are part of a murder investigation, and it will not go away. What are you hiding?'

'Did Alasdair send you here to torture me? What have I done to deserve this treatment?'

'Everything,' Sam said, with a smile. 'I'm not leaving here until you cough.'

Will groaned. 'You're taking advantage of me. That's not fair.'

'Alasdair told me to tell you that he will obtain that information whatever the means. He said you would know what that involved.'

Will grimaced. 'I do. They intend to drill holes in my head and insert probes.' He laughed. 'They will struggle with that; most of my skull consists of spun vanadium mesh.'

'You're not taking this seriously,' Sam said.

'Why don't you believe me when I say that I've got a metal head?'

'Don't be silly. You don't have a metal head; that's the sedation talking. I'm genuinely trying to help you. You are in trouble, so why can't you say what they want to know and have done with it?'

Will thought it over. He felt betrayed because he had believed that Milo would protect him from the Department's attention, and now the opposite was happening. He sighed. 'Don't worry; I won't be going under the drill. I know I will have to tell them eventually.'

'So what is the problem?'

'You don't give up, do you? The problem is that when I do tell them they won't believe me. Even worse, they will probably think I'm insane.'

'Of course they will believe you. Why shouldn't they?'

'If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.'

'Try me.'

Will paused. 'Okay. I'm going to give you some information, and it is up to you whether you pass that information on or not. Are you happy with that?'

Sam nodded.

'Right, here goes. I got Bayer's name from the future.'

Sam stared at Will. 'I thought you were trying to be serious.'

'I am being serious. You need to be aware of a few things about me. First, I do have a metal skull, and it was inserted shortly after I was born. Second, it picks up radio signals.'

'Radio signals?'

'Yes. It normally picks up music from the local radio stations, but recently I started to receive transmissions from the Phasewave system. However, they are not regular transmissions; they are coming from the future.'

'I think you ought to get some rest,' Sam said.

'I haven't slept since I was stabbed, and I have been doing a lot of thinking during the night. Before you wander off, let me run something by you. I know that Bayer is linked to the fires in Southland because I picked up that information from the future. Following our visit to his old laboratory yesterday, we accidentally discovered a hidden formula for a substance called Cromite, and Watson behaved oddly when I was handling his Glo-Babe paperweight. I am now wondering if Cromite is what causes the Glo-Babes' light-sensitive display and is somehow involved in the fires. If my thinking is correct, is it possible that Bayer either invented the substance called Cromite or brought it with him to Vennica after he left the Colonies?'

Sam was silent while she tried to accept what Will had told her. 'The way you put it makes it sound feasible, but what do you want me to do with that information?'

'I would like you to talk to Alasdair and get him to accept what I have just told you, and keep Tom Parks out of it; he will definitely not be receptive. You will need to work out the right approach. If you come out with it as I just did, you will lose your credibility. The reason I have kept this information to myself is because I know that I do not have the ability to convince Alasdair, or anyone else in the Department, that I am telling the truth when I say I receive information from the future.'

'If I do agree to your request, how can I possibly persuade Alasdair to believe what I am saying? I hardly know him and have only worked for three days in the Department. If he won't believe you, why should he believe me?'

'You just twisted me around your little finger,' Will said. 'Now do the same to Alasdair.'

'I'll try to think of something. I take it that you don't want me to mention your electric head.'

'That would be wise,' Will said. 'Most people would find that completely unbelievable.'

Sam was still considering Will's request when the door opened and a small, thin-faced woman with quizzical eyes entered the room. She gasped when she saw Will and then ran across the room to hold him, becoming visibly upset at the sight of his arm suspended in a sling.

Will put his good arm around her and laughed. 'Don't worry; this is just for show.'

'What happened to you?' Celia asked. 'Your workplace wouldn't tell me anything.'

'It was just a routine beat-up,' Will said. 'You should have seen the other guy. By the way, this is Sam, my partner in crime. Sam, meet Celia.'

Sam waved, but Celia was inconsolable and failed to acknowledge Sam's presence. After a few minutes, Sam slipped from the room and left them together.

While she was making her way home after a hectic and eventful day, Sam tried to analyse her feelings and realized that she felt slightly jealous of Will's display of affection to Celia. She was also surprised to find that Will had so many hidden aspects to his life. Turning to her newly acquired task, she switched her attention to the morning's meeting with Alasdair. If she was struggling to understand Will's explanation, how was she going to present it to Alasdair in a believable way? It was not going to be easy.

Sam was floating on a cloud. There was no sensation in her body and her thoughts ebbed and flowed pleasantly without interruption. She was happy; she was free, and all the while aware that someone was looking over her, protecting her, keeping her from harm.

'It's time to come out.'

Amelia's voice came from far away. Sam opened her eyes and focussed on Amelia's face.

'If you stay in there any longer, you'll turn into a prune.'

Sam slowly eased herself into a sitting position in the bath and felt the pain return to her legs. 'How long have I been asleep?'

Amelia was kneeling next to the bath holding a towel. 'Half an hour. I didn't have the heart to wake you.'

She helped Sam from the bath and put a towel around her. Sam felt drugged and compliantly sat while Amelia dried her and then replaced the bandage on her hand. She then dressed and bound the wounds on her knees.

'You should have been a nurse,' Sam said.

'I should definitely be looking for a change in my occupation; there is no future in being an artist.'

'You love your art. Why do you say that?'

'Painting these old masters is proving more difficult than I thought; it is hard to replicate the painting techniques, and the company owner is desperate for me to produce originals from which he can make digital copies. He wants me to work longer hours, but by the end of the day my eyesight is failing, and I can't differentiate between the colours.'

'Don't give up on your art; it's a special gift,' Sam said. 'There will be another commission.'

'Don't worry; nothing is going to happen any time soon.'

Sam got to her feet and carefully took a few steps. She checked her bandaged knees. 'It looks like I will be wearing trousers for a while. I hate wearing those things.'

'You look smart whatever you wear.'

'I suppose you are going to say, "I told you so".'

'I'm not saying anything,' Amelia said, 'but each day you seem to get into deeper water. Now you have been assaulted and nearly killed. I am worried sick about you.'

'Now it's my turn to tell you not to worry,' Sam said. 'I think I may have turned a corner at work.'

'Well, you've got some time off to think about it.'

'I have to go in tomorrow.'

'I thought you had been stood down. You need to rest and give your body a chance to heal.'

'There's something I need to do in the morning. It won't take long.'

'Is it to do with Will?'

'What if it is?'

'I don't understand why you are giving up your time off to run around after the likes of Will Avery.'

'I don't want to get into an argument, but Will is lying in hospital with his arm attached to pulleys and with holes in his back. He has asked me to do him a favour, and I want to help him.'

'He's just jerking your chain.'

'No, he isn't. I'm too weary to argue, but Will just saved my life, and I think I can help him with a problem he has encountered. That's all.'

Amelia fetched Sam's clothes from the bedroom and exchanged them for the wet towels. She watched silently while Sam dressed.

'This is not about Will,' Sam said. 'I would do the same for you in a heart-beat.'

'I don't suppose you are willing to share whatever this task is with me.'

'I would if I knew what I was doing, but at the moment I'm not sure that I fully understand it myself. I'll be finished by mid-day; do you fancy lunch together?'

Amelia smiled. 'For you, I'll do anything. I'm sorry to go on at you, but I nearly died when you walked in with all those bandages on you. Do you know what my first thought was?'

'You thought I wouldn't be able to go out for a night on the town?'

'Never. I thought that Will Avery had beaten you up.'

Sam burst out laughing. 'You didn't?'

'I did. I don't know which would have been worse – being bashed by Will or stabbed by a total stranger.'

'You are incorrigible.' Sam went and put her arms around Amelia. 'You are so sweet, and I appreciate your concern, but nothing is going to part us. I won't let it happen. Now, I'm starving. What's for dinner?'

It was midnight when Alasdair and Tom met at the local prison. A case officer accompanied them to the mortuary, where the bodies of two naked men lay on benches.

A Department pathologist was waiting for them.

'What happened here?' Alasdair asked.

The case officer read from statements. 'These two men were interviewed yesterday evening but remained silent throughout the interview. Accordingly, they were advised of their rights and informed that they would face cerebral stimulation in the prison hospital at the first opportunity. Two hours later, during a regular check, guards discovered both of them dead in their beds.'

'They failed to respond to revival attempts,' the pathologist added, 'and they displayed no symptoms of the cause of death. Both men had identical surgery scars on their torsos, and a scan of the bodies revealed the presence of unidentified objects inside their abdomens. I then opened them up and found discharged poison applicators. Initial findings indicate suicide.'

Tom looked closer at the bodies. Their surgically split abdomens revealed the presence of small pouches stapled to the insides of their body cavities. 'How would they have activated these things?' he asked.

'Probably by applied pressure,' the pathologist replied. He pulled up a flap of skin from one of the men's stomachs, revealing an area of marked bruising. 'We haven't had time to inspect the poison containers, but I have never come across these devices before. We cannot go any further until we have established whether they still contain poison or not.'

'So, when these two heard about the treatment awaiting them, it looks like they knew they were busted and topped themselves,' Tom commented. 'Alasdair, have you ever come across these before?'

Alasdair shook his head. The bodies were covered in bruises and the faces were barely recognisable. Their skins had darkened in colour, probably due to the poison, he surmised. 'These guys were committed to suicide, which is why they had no escape strategy. They were determined to kill two agents and accept the consequences. Why would any sane person do that?'

'They could have belonged to a cult,' Tom said. 'If my memory serves me correctly, the Colonies have used suicide fighters in the past, but that was a long time ago. Well, it looks like we've drawn a blank with these two. We urgently need to find out what Will is hiding.'

The next morning, Alasdair was sitting at his desk, trying to make up a report on the overnight suicides. He had not slept well and was already on his fourth cup of coffee, which was making him edgy.

There was a knock at the door, and before Alasdair could shout out an expletive, the door opened and Sam poked her head into the office. 'Do you have a moment? '

Alasdair looked at the unfinished report. He sighed, but recognized that he needed a break. 'Come in, Sam. I thought you were at home recovering.'

'I saw Will last night.'

'How is he?'

'In denial, as usual. He's trying to make light of everything.'

'Typical Will,' Alasdair said. 'Before we go any further, I've got some news for you. Both your attackers committed suicide last night.' Alasdair filled Sam in on the details.

'They didn't make much effort to escape after the attack,' Sam said, 'but what was the reason for their suicides?'

'It's a mystery. What does concern me is that those two were walking around Vennica without any records of their identities. It looks as if they came from off-planet and therefore would have been photographed and logged wherever they landed on Vennica.'

'I think I know the answer to that,' Sam said, and immediately regretted saying it.

'What's that?'

'I'm sorry, but it was a Homeland issue. I am not allowed to discuss it.'

Alasdair exploded. 'Don't play games with me, young lady. This is a murder investigation, and you can either cooperate with me or take the next cab back to Homeland Security.'

Sam attempted to defuse the situation. 'If you were to order me to pass on that information, I would, of course, be obliged to co-operate.'

'Consider yourself ordered,' Alasdair snapped, 'and don't leave anything out.'

'Okay, this is all I know. A facility called the Personal Movements Archive exists to log the movements of all travellers entering the Vennican domestic areas. It maintains a massive database that only a few hundred senior government employees can fully access. After the attempted invasion, Homeland Security suspected that a ring of Colonial sympathisers had been removing details of selected individuals from the main database after they had landed on Vennica, and it recently monitored a Shuttleport arrivals security tape to compare with the database. It found that within two days, details belonging to one of their targets went missing. Presumably, someone with the necessary permissions had actively sought out and deleted that person's file. After further investigation, they now suspect that the government unknowingly employs a ring of about a dozen Colonial sympathisers who are manipulating the database to order. Homeland Security is in the process of putting in place additional software to track down the staff making those changes. Homeland also suspects that the sympathisers also issue false identification papers to allow those individuals to travel freely whilst on Vennica.'

'That answers my question,' Alasdair said, 'and thank you for your cooperation. If this subject ever comes up in conversation, I will make sure that your name is not linked to it. So, what has Will got to say?'

Now that the moment had arrived, Sam was hesitant. 'Will has given me certain information, which he has allowed me to pass on as I think fit, but he is worried that you will not believe it.'

Alasdair was curious. 'What is it?'

'Will receives information from the future.'

'What?'

'Will told me that he picked up the information linking Professor Bayer to the fires in Southland via a Phasewave transmission from the future. After our visit to the laboratory yesterday, Will believes that those fires may also be linked to a substance called Cromite, which exists in crystalline form. We found a file hidden on Professor Watson's computer, which we believe could be the formula for the Cromite.'

Alasdair stared at her, open-mouthed. 'What shit is this you're coming out with? Do you expect me to believe any of that? And what's all this about fires in Southland and Cromite crystals? You are talking gibberish.'

'I know it sounds that way, which is why Will felt that he could not say anything. No matter how bizarre it sounds, I think it is true, because it starts to pull together the puzzle behind the attacks on us. It looks like Professor Bayer came from the Colonies and introduced the Cromite crystals to Vennica, before allegedly committing suicide, although in light of later developments, it may turn out that he too was murdered. Professor Watson discovered the research Bayer had done and tried to pass it off as his own. His laboratory was then broken into and ransacked, but the burglars overlooked his personal computer, which they could not find. I gave him my card when I took his computer, which is when we found the hidden file. Two days later, two suicide agents, one of whom was carrying my card, attacked Will and me. Cromite, which is an unknown substance, is central to all this activity. It appears that someone has gone to great lengths to eradicate a source of the Cromite.'

Alasdair struggled to make sense of what Sam was saying.

'May I make a suggestion?' Sam asked.

Alasdair nodded dumbly.

Sam folded her hands into the shape of a box on the table between them. 'The source of Professor Bayer's name is no longer important because he is dead, and we are not involved in his affairs. If questioned on that subject, you can simply say that you have received your information from a confidential source.' She moved her hands sideways and formed another box. 'Professor Bayer's alleged suicide could come under question, but Tom Parks was the lead investigator on that case and I would not want to upset him by claiming that he had reached an incorrect conclusion.' She shifted the box sideways again. 'Any future revelations that Will receives will come straight to you for action and involve no other person in the department.'

'Do you actually believe any of this?' Alasdair asked.

'During the time of Will's previous employment with this Department, he established a link between Cromite and Professor Bayer, but it was not as a result of any official investigation. The subsequent death of Professor Watson and the attack on Will and me reinforce that link, so I have to conclude that Will is on the right lines. No matter how strange his story sounds, it would be wrong to discard any future inputs. This way, Will should feel confident enough to pass his findings on; we will benefit from those findings, and Tom will feel as though he is still in the loop.'

Alasdair sat back in his seat and looked at Sam with renewed respect. 'I must admit that you seem to have a very astute take on all of this. How did you learn to do that?'

'I believe that there is a pathway through every situation, although I must confess that my belief has been put to the test over the last few days.'

'Let's hope those days are behind you. My only problem is that I cannot accept that Will is somehow seeing into the future. How can I get my mind round this?'

'You don't have to,' Sam said. 'I don't know how a turbine engine works, but I still drive an auto. The overriding requirement is that the information in the box is correct.'

Alasdair could not believe that a woman half his age was revealing to him a completely different kind of logic to the one he was familiar with, along with a lesson in diplomacy. 'Okay, I'll go with that. One last question: you say that this Cromite stuff is unknown, so what exactly does it do?'

'Nobody seems to know, but we think it is what makes those Glo-Babes work.'

'Glo-Babes? What are they?'

'You know, those toys, the key ring pendants that give off a flame display.'

'Oh, yes, my kids once gave me one. It's in here somewhere.' Alasdair fished about in a drawer, found a pendant and held it up to the light. It immediately started to radiate coloured light in flickering pulses. He examined it carefully. It's hard to see what makes it work.'

'I can't help you there,' Sam said. 'Until yesterday, I had never heard of Cromite or Glo-Babes; they must have passed me by.'

Alasdair held the Glo-Babe closer to a lamp and saw the flame effect intensify. 'Well, whatever this is, it certainly doesn't appear to be worth dying for.'

'I'll probably see Will again today,' Sam said. 'Is there anything you want me to tell him?'

'Yes. Tell him that you've worn me down and to get back here as soon as he can.'

'He'll be pleased to hear that. Are you aware that he's got a metal head?'

Alasdair held his hands over his ears. 'No more. I can't take it. Just go away and annoy Will.'

'I knew you wouldn't believe it,' Sam said. She turned to leave the room.

'Before you go, have you been in your office today?' Alasdair asked.

'No. I just came to see you.'

'I think you should check it out.'

#####  Chapter Ten

'Is there anything we can do?' Glen sat in the study with Milo, watching a TV monitor. An airborne camera shot panned a wide area of flame and smoke, and a deep haze layer stretched as far as the eye could see. The intense heat had set an area around a landfill alight, and fire services were circling the blaze, spraying water onto the ground in an attempt to contain the fire.

'I'm beginning to think that these fires are more significant than we realize,' Milo said. 'This has obviously been going on in Southland for some time, and there has been absolutely nothing about the fires on the local news. The first time I heard of the fires was when Will mentioned them, and then you confirmed their existence after you returned from your trip.'

'Just don't ask me to go back there,' Glen said. 'Maybe your friend Will would like to take a look.'

Milo's messager sounded. He picked it up and checked the sender's name. 'Excuse me. It's from Alasdair Knowles; I have been expecting this call.' Milo took the call in an adjoining room.

'Thanks for calling,' Milo said. 'You don't know me, but I presume James Lockhart has spoken to you.'

'Of course I know who you are,' Alasdair replied. 'You're the new Security Secretary.'

The statement caught Milo off guard. 'How did you find that out?'

'We may not be the best Security Service in the world, but we wouldn't be up to much if we couldn't find out who our boss was. I'm sure that it's going to be a pleasure working for you.'

'That's good to hear. I have a favour to ask, and it concerns one of your agents, Will Avery.'

'Unfortunately, Will is in hospital at the moment,' Alasdair replied. 'Yesterday, he and another agent, Sam Sergeant, were attacked outside the headquarters building.'

'Are they okay?'

'Yes, but Will was stabbed in the back.'

'What was the motive for the attack?'

'It's not clear. At the time, Will had been chasing up what he calls Cromite crystals and some fires in Southland, but shortly after we took the two assailants into custody, they committed suicide. We haven't yet been able to establish a clear motive.'

Milo's ears pricked up at the mention of fires. 'Do you have any plans for these agents?'

'Will is off active duty for a couple of weeks, and Sam has been reallocated to a murder inquiry.'

'What murder?'

'The assailants are believed to have murdered one, or possibly two, professors at the university; that's where the Cromite connection comes in.'

Milo thought furiously. Events were coming together. 'In which case, I have an urgent request. I need assistance for a special project that involves the fires in Southland. Would you be prepared to release both those agents to work for me until we have resolved the fires?'

'You don't have to ask; you're in charge. Do you want me to talk to them?'

'I've already met Will and will be calling at the hospital today. Do you mind if I discuss this with him first?'

'Not at all. I can't imagine either of them objecting to working for the Secretary. I'll start the paperwork from this end. Will, by the way, is in the Provincial Hospital.'

Alasdair put down his messager. The outcome of the conversation was not what he had anticipated, but after recent events, it would do no harm for Will and Sam to be out of the Department for a few weeks. He did not have much of a career to look forward to, but to have the niece of a former head murdered on his watch would definitely have knocked that on the head. It was a shame in one way, he reflected, because Sam appeared to have a lot to offer and the Department could do with an injection of modern thinking. She kept reminding him of someone else he had come across. There had not been many female agents employed over his time in the Department, but talking to Milo prompted him to remember that Milo's partner, Glen Sommers, was one of the two he could recall. Of course! Sam reminded him very much of Glen; both of them were smart, confident and independent people. Well, he would just have to manage without his agents, but Sam would soon be back, and, as for Will, he was more than likely to self-destruct before the end of his secondment. He always did.

'I wasn't following your conversation, but am I to gather that you are getting some extra staff?' Glen enquired.

'Yes,' Milo replied. 'That conversation was very informative. Alasdair has released Will and another agent to me on secondment, so I'm hoping that we might now be able to get a better handle on these fires.'

'It'll be interesting to see what he comes up with.'

'Yes, but right now Will is in hospital; he was attacked and stabbed in the back.'

'Is it serious?'

'It doesn't sound life-threatening, but I think we should go and visit him. At the same time, I can talk to him about coming to work for me.'

Glen let the words sink in. 'Talking about backstabbing reminds me: we need to discuss your summons.'

'How did you find out about that?'

'Oh, come on. The Commission could never keep its trap shut.'

'It's largely due to the stirrings of one person – Daniel Wilcox.'

'That little prick,' Glen said. 'Remember that you now hold a senior government position, and you can knock that investigation on its head.'

'Whatever happens, it will be time-consuming.'

'Even if you told the truth, nobody would believe you,' Glen said. 'Everyone else concerned has pleaded a brain-fade; why don't you do the same?'

'It will have to run its course, and I don't want them dragging you in as a witness.'

'They wouldn't dare. I can come up with things about Wilcox, or the Reverend Wilcox, as he prefers to call himself, that he would not like to hear in court. Rumours abound that he is a Colonial sympathiser. Let me do some digging, and I'll come up with something that will set him back. Then you can wave your big stick, and the Commission will shut down once you get rid of him.'

'I can tell that you have fully recovered from your travels; it didn't take long for you to get back to normal.'

'What else have you arranged for our future entertainment?' Glen asked.

'Nothing in particular. I'll tell you all about it on the way to the Provincial.'

Milo and Glen walked into the hospital room and found Will talking to a young woman, who was sitting next to him on the bed. She rose to her feet when they entered the room.

Glen stared at the rack and pulleys in disbelief. 'Will, are you all right? What happened to your arm?'

'It was an occupational hazard,' Will said. 'I was doing nicely until this morning when they took me off the sedatives. This thing hurts like hell.'

Glen was holding a bunch of flowers, and looked round for something to put them in.

'I'll take care of that,' Sam said. She took the flowers and left the room.

'What's the prognosis?' Milo asked.

'I'll be out by the weekend,' Will said. 'One way or another. This place is driving me crazy.'

Glen walked round the bed and straightened Will's pillows. 'You stay right where you are until the medics give you the all clear,' she said.

Sam returned with the flowers in a glass vase.

Milo turned to her. 'You must look after Will and make sure that he gets plenty of rest.'

Sam was amused. She had no idea who the couple were, but noted that Will was acting as if he knew them. 'Leave it to me,' she said, with a straight face. 'I'll sort him out.'

'I'm sorry,' Milo said. 'We haven't been introduced. I'm Milo and this is Glen.'

'Hello, I'm Sam.' Sam nodded to Glen.

The woman's name rang a bell in Milo's mind. 'You're not Sam Sergeant by any chance, are you?'

'How do you know me?'

'I spoke to Alasdair today and he told me about the attack. You must be the other agent who was attacked.'

'I have that dubious honour.'

'You're still standing, so I presume you have no serious injuries.'

'Just a few scrapes.'

Milo interrupted Glen, who was still fussing over Will, much to his discomfort. 'Excuse me; I must speak for a moment. Will, Alasdair has agreed to second you to my department until the issues with the fires are resolved.'

'That's great news,' Will said. 'I can't wait to start.'

'We're really looking forward to working with you,' Glen said.

Sam was starting to feel uncomfortable and got the distinct feeling that once again she was intruding into someone else's life. However, she was pleased for Will, who seemed delighted to have the opportunity to work for another department, and hopefully, it would draw a line under his recent problems. She picked up her bag and was about to leave when Milo stopped her.

'This includes you, of course, Sam; Alasdair is willing to release both of you. If you want to, that is. It should only be for a few weeks.'

'Of course she does,' Will said. 'We come as a team – partners in crime.'

Sam tried to conceal her surprise. She smiled. 'There you go then. Partners in crime – that'll be us.'

After Milo and Glen had left, Will and Sam stared at each other. Will had a huge grin on his face.

'Tell me, Will,' Sam said. 'What exactly have you signed me up for?'

'You don't know who they are, do you?'

'I haven't a clue, other than that I am now apparently working for them. To which department were you referring? '

Will burst out laughing. 'That man is Milo de Villiers, the Vennican Secretary for Defence and Security, and his partner, Glen, is the Cultural Ambassador. Milo was the previous President. What do you think about that?'

Sam was not much wiser. 'They both seemed to be friendly. I take it that you were already acquainted with them.'

'Yes, they had me round for supper a few nights ago.'

Sam was once again taken aback to find out something new about Will. She considered the offer for a while and decided that at the very least it would provide a fresh opportunity for her and a new lease of life after the disaster of the last few days. She started to feel relieved. The threat of a sacking had receded, and now she was facing something entirely different and unexpected. It was as if she had suddenly stepped into a parallel universe full of endless surprises.

'I think you are going to like them,' Will said.

'I'm sure I will,' Sam said. 'Remind me again. I got the Glen, but what was that man's name?'

Later that day, after Sam had related her ongoing daily experiences, she and Amelia sat admiring the enormous bouquet of flowers that Sam had brought home from her office. Their scent filled the whole house.

'You did very well,' Amelia said. 'Somebody in that place must like you.'

'I can't get over it; I don't think that office has ever seen flowers before. Everyone is being so kind to me. I only hope I can live up to their expectations.'

'Then you'd better brush up on your history before you start your new job.' Amelia fell back on the sofa, chuckling. 'I still can't believe that you have never heard of Milo de Villiers. What planet have you been living on? You do remember the invasion, don't you?'

'I remember the invasion,' Sam said, 'but my problem is that I cannot remember peoples' names, and I certainly have no interest in politics.'

'Don't go and blow your chances by telling an ex-President that you've never heard of him.'

'He had his partner, Glen, with him. She seems nice.'

'Before the Justice Department merged with the Security Service, Glen Sommers used to do the same job as you. She and Milo worked as agents together for years.'

'I wasn't aware of that,' Sam said. 'How come you know so much about these things?'

'Unlike you, I follow the news. Something odd happened a few years ago. Milo and Glen investigated a case where all four members of an engineering crew died on Bouron, which is a Phasewave base. One of the replacement engineers also died, leaving two survivors – a woman called Jenna Hale and another engineer, whose name, I cannot remember. After Jenna returned, she maintained that an alien presence had killed off the previous engineering crew, but nobody would believe her. Milo was on the team investigating Jenna's story.'

'Is that true? Was there an alien?'

'Nobody knows, but Jenna maintained that the alien was invisible, which did not do much to help her case. The story then gets more complicated. The engineers, who returned from Bouron, along with the lead investigator, broke into the Kalmis Phasewave base, where their bodies were found the following day lying next to one of the machines. No cause of their deaths was ever determined. It was a very unusual affair.'

'It sounds like the kind of story the media would dream up,' Sam said, 'but I'm beginning to get the impression that this new job of mine could involve some serious risk. What else happened in that case?'

'Very little. Eventually, everyone lost interest, and then there was a two year gap until Milo became involved in the Colonial invasion. Afterwards, reports and rumours suggested that Milo somehow worked in collusion with an alien presence to defeat the invasion. Once again, interest waned due to lack of any evidence. The moral of this story appears to be: if you want to advance your career, stay away from aliens and Phasewave machines.'

'I don't know how you remember all that stuff,' Sam said. 'With a memory like yours, you are wasting your time working as an artist.'

'I take an interest in these matters because I believe that you should be able to find out what you are up against.'

'You are making me nervous; let's change the subject and talk about something else. What have you been doing with yourself recently?'

'I'm glad you asked. I certainly haven't suffered the trauma you have. I'm still copying the old masters, but I have to say that the novelty is wearing off. Every day I come home covered in greasy paint stains.'

'I hadn't noticed.'

'That's because you always turn up late after I've scrubbed down. Well, I've decided that you need a break from that job of yours, so tomorrow night you and I are going out and I'm treating you to a night on the town. Make sure you come home at a civilized hour.'

'Count me in,' Sam said. 'I could certainly use a night off.'

Milo and Glen arrived home and sat in their lounge.

'What was your impression of Sam?' Glen asked.

'I presumed at first that she was Will's partner, but I don't think she knew who we were. Why do you ask?'

'She is an attractive woman, and Will certainly knows how to turn on the charm. I just wondered if there was anything between them.'

'You're good at spotting these things. We'll soon find out when she starts work; I'll set Margaret on her.'

'You'll do no such thing. There was an attempt on her life two days ago, so we will be extra nice to her. She certainly doesn't look like she belongs with the likes of those agents in the Security Service.'

'Yes, I think she might be better off working in a smaller organisation. I'll start her as soon as possible, and she can set things up for when Will is cleared back to work.'

'I can't believe that he was stabbed in broad daylight,' Glen said.

'When I spoke to Alasdair about taking them both on, he said that Will had been investigating a link between Cromite crystals and those fires in Southland. He also said that their attackers could be responsible for the murders of two professors at the university.'

'Then you'd better make sure that they have adequate protection while they work for you.'

'Don't worry; Margaret will take care of that.'

Sam was sitting at her new desk, admiring the interior of her office in Government House, when the door opened and Will Avery walked in.

'What are you doing here?' Sam asked. 'You're supposed to be recovering in hospital.'

'Don't tell anybody, but I've just discharged myself. I've got to wear this sling for another two weeks before I use my arm, and I've just found out the hard way that there are a lot of bones in a shoulder.'

'You had better check with Milo first. He's next door; you should say hello.'

'Yes, I want to set off on the right foot.'

'There's a first time for everything,' Sam said. 'I think you'll fit in here just fine.' Sam left the office and Will looked around at the almost palatial surroundings of the government building, including a spectacular view of the central city. People would pay good money for a view like that, he thought.

Sam returned. 'He'll see you now. Follow me and I'll show you how to navigate the corridors of power.'

Sam took Will round to Margaret's office and left him with her. She returned to her office and gazed out of the window. It really was like being in dreamland.

'You can't start work yet,' Milo said, 'especially carrying that sling around. You'll have the safety people on my back.'

'I'll keep out of sight,' Will replied. 'Honestly, if I had stayed in that hospital any longer, I would have gone out of my mind.'

Milo was dubious. 'Then I'll leave the decision to you, but pull out any time you don't feel up to it. To bring you up to date, Sam has set up some systems next door, so she will fill you in on those. I don't think I have to tell you what to do, but we need more information on those Cromite crystals and the fires in Southland. You and Sam will have access to me any time you find something relevant, so don't hold back. I will also provide you with any resources you need to carry out your tasks. I want you and Sam to work out a plan and give me a heads-up, preferably before the end of the day.'

'I'll get right onto it,' Will said. 'I've got just a couple more questions. First: do I get my own warrant?'

'Do you need one?'

'It would help speed things up if we can act independently. At the moment I don't know what is in store for us.'

'In which case, I will arrange for you to be warranted. What is your other question?'

'Who will be in charge, Sam or me?'

'From what I have seen so far, I get the impression that Sam is a very grounded young woman who appears to be competent at her job. I think that for the time being you should go with the flow, but I suspect that Sam and Margaret will end up telling us both what to do. Oh, and include Glen on that list, she often has an input into what goes on in my life. Hopefully, it should not last for more than a few weeks.'

Will laughed. 'How did we get into this situation?'

'I'm not really sure. Sometimes these things just happen.'

The next morning, Milo was sitting at his desk when his messager started flashing. He answered the call from Alasdair.

'I've got a surprise for you,' Alasdair said. 'Guess who's just turned up on our doorstep.'

'Who?'

'A man called Justin Morgan. He claims to be the person who first distributed the Glo-Babes on Vennica. An outstanding warrant for his arrest, issued in Southland, was in force, and we have taken him into custody. He now wants to offer a plea bargain in exchange for immunity and information on the Cromite.'

'We can't make exceptions to an international warrant.'

'True, but precedents have been set in the past. Obviously, that would be for your department to decide. Would you like to interview him?'

'I think Will and Sam will be very interested. I'll send them over.'

Justin Morgan looked around the bare interview room and then back at the two agents facing him. 'I was only involved in the importation of the Cromite crystals from Hinterland,' he said. 'I owned a small company that distributed them as key fobs and paperweights in Northland. The company also produced a small line of bracelets and necklaces containing Cromite.'

'Where did the Cromite originate,' Sam asked.

'I don't know. They were being manufactured at a plant in Salaman. They didn't seem to be problematic at the time; they were just toys.'

'Tell us about your business partner,' Will said.

'Her name was Kim Cassell, but she betrayed me.'

'Why did she betray you?'

'I did not realize at the time, but I later realized that she targeted me in Salaman immediately after I took the first samples of the Cromite crystals.'

'How did she find out you were carrying them?'

'I think that she was somehow linked to the factory that produced the Cromite. She contacted me at the airport and talked me into setting up a company to market them in Northland. In fact, it was Kim who thought up the name – Glo Babes.'

'What happened after you started to sell them in Northland?'

'Kim had contacts in the media and managed to get exposure for them on television, which generated a lot of interest. I was surprised because I expected it to be a short fad that would only last through the festive season. The Glo-Babes were only supposed to be sold in temperate climates, such as Northland, and the crystals were to be retained at all times in their airtight, acrylic cases. Kim wanted to increase sales and found that if the crystals were released into the open air, they produced a much bigger display, especially in bright sunlight.'

'How, then, did they end up in Southland?' Sam asked.

'The Glo-Babes were selling like crazy, and Kim worked out how to grow the crystals by splitting them, which meant that we could supplement the supply of crystals coming from the factory in Salaman to meet public demand. Kim also worked out that they were capable of producing even bigger displays in a warmer climate and wanted to set up a sales network in Southland. I tried to stop her, but later discovered that she had already brought in another business partner, Stephan Voscow. The two of them went to Southland to market the Glo-Babes as outdoor Glo-Belles, which grew over two metres tall – twice the size of the ones Kim had produced over here. That was the last I heard of them until the authorities connected the Glo-Belles to the landfill fires and issued arrest warrants for the three of us. That was when I went into hiding.'

'Apart from being your business partner, what was your relationship with Cassel?' Sam asked.

'I am not proud of what I did, but our relationship was intimate. I used to visit her at home every week.'

'Did Cassell live alone?'

'She claimed to have a husband, Mark, and a daughter, Maria, but I never met them; they were always conveniently absent whenever I went round. I believe she fabricated the whole story and just manipulated me in order to get the Glo-Babes off the ground. I didn't know where she came from, or even if Kim was her real name.'

'She was probably using a false name,' Will said. 'Have you any idea what happened to Cassell and Voscow after they arrived in Southland?'

'I never saw or heard from Kim Cassell again, but one day, I picked up a news story about the landfill fires in Southland and instinctively knew that they had to be related to the Glo-Belles. Then I got a message from Bernard, the factory owner in Salaman, informing me that investigators from Southland had been asking after me. Before Kim departed for Southland, she told my wife, Anna, about our affair, after which Anna left me and started divorce proceedings. She had brought a significant amount of wealth into our marriage but had retained control of that wealth. Therefore, homeless, penniless, and separated from my wife and two daughters, I went into hiding in Kalmis. After a few weeks of living rough, I decided to come clean. That's about it. What's going to happen to me now? Will I be sent back to Southland?'

'We can't say,' Sam said. 'That decision can only be made by someone at a senior level, but your assistance in this enquiry will definitely not go against you.'

'Before we leave,' Will said, 'can you tell me what caused the crystals to catch fire in the landfills?'

'I asked the same question of the factory owner, Bernard, but all he could tell me was that under certain conditions Cromite has the ability to reform into another, unstable substance, Cromite Type B, which was why the original crystals were sold in sealed containers and sales restricted to temperate climates. He said that once the Cromite has changed to Cromite B, it invariably self-combusts and burns at extremely high temperatures, as in the landfill fires. He had no idea what triggered the change or how it could be contained. That just about all I can tell you about Cromite.'

'Thanks for that,' Will said. 'It looks like we have just got involved in what could be a long investigation.'

'Bernard manufactured the Cromite crystals, so if he is unable to offer a solution to the fires, I don't know where else you could go for that information.'

'Don't worry,' Will said. 'We will find a way.'

The next day, Sam returned to the office and sat down at a desk next to Will. 'I drove out to the address that Morgan gave us,' she said, 'but there's no sign of this woman, Cassell, or her alleged partner and daughter. The owner had let the house to Cassell for a year, but never met the occupiers. An agent handled all the transactions, but although he had met Cassell, he did not know anything about her, apart from the fact that she gave a satisfactory reference and paid the monthly rent on time. Apparently, there had not been any problems with their tenancy. After her departure, the house was re-let, and another family has now been in occupation for several months, so I did not think that there was any point in going inside. How far have you got?'

'I'm only just beginning to understand how bad things are,' Will said. 'Following Morgan's revelations, I have been able to track the proliferation of the Glo-Belles in Southland. Cassell sold hundreds of thousands of them, but at some point, the Glo-Belles suddenly appeared to lose their appeal, and discarded crystals started to pile up in landfills in large quantities. For some unknown reason, they then reacted and caused huge fires. The fires are now burning underground and spreading into adjacent areas.'

Will produced a viewer and brought up video of an aerial shot showing a massive fire ringed by emergency vehicles and troops. 'This is what we're up against. It looks like a volcano, but it started out as a landfill site. Here is a thermal image taken from above, and it shows a small but extremely hot core with a temperature over four thousand degrees. That core is moving around the edges of the fire zone and causing the surrounding land to catch fire. After that, sinkholes appear where the ground has burnt out. Those holes form an almost impassable barrier to the firefighters on the ground; they cannot get close enough to the core to make any impact.'

'That is going to be hard to beat,' Sam said. 'At least the fires are now making news headlines here in Northland.'

'What do the news agencies make of it?'

'They are hedging their bets, but at least one report has linked the Glo-Belles to a supplier in Northland, which would support Morgan's story. Are there any signs of these fires abating? Surely they can't go on burning forever.'

'The fires appear to be self-sustaining, and nothing attempted so far has had any impact on them,' Will replied. 'Pollution from the fires is, however, threatening to reduce this year's red bean crop, and the coffee exporters are tearing their hair out.'

'So right now, a solution to these fires doesn't appear to be imminent,' Sam said. 'If the emergency services in a country with the infrastructure of Southland cannot come up with a solution, what chance do we have? Have you recently picked up any news from the future?'

'No. Since the initial reports about the fires, and the fact that Milo was responsible for putting them out, I have received only occasional routine news headlines that have made no mention of the fires. From the signal strength and content of those transmissions, I can only conclude that the problem will somehow be resolved in the near future.'

Sam shuffled through a file on her desk until she found what she was looking for. 'Shortly before Leonard Bayer died, he tried to patent the Cromite as a form of renewable energy. Interestingly, the patent was turned down because, and I quote, "A patent cannot be issued because the substance known as Cromite is unknown and unidentifiable. Its effectiveness as a source of renewable energy cannot be demonstrated". Here is a copy of his application.' Sam slid the file across the desk to Will.

Will looked through the application and returned the file. 'It does make you wonder where the Cromite came from.' He opened a drawer and took out a box. 'These are the samples of Glo-Babes that Morgan gave us when he turned himself in.' He emptied the box onto the table, and they both sorted through several different variations of the Glo-Babes.

Sam picked up a loop of spherical balls, each of which contained a miniature, flickering Glo-Babe. She twisted it round her wrist and admired it. 'I can honestly say that I have never seen any of these before. Does that make me sound old?'

'No, it makes you sound sensible. I'm going to open one up.'

'I don't think you should do that.'

'We're not going to come to any harm – unless we put them in a landfill afterwards! Anyway, we're in Northland, where apparently they behave themselves.' Will inserted a Glo-Babe into an open drawer and tried to crack it by slamming the drawer. It resisted all his attempts.

'I still don't agree with this,' Sam said.

'I need a hammer. What do you carry in that bag of yours?'

'Definitely not a hammer. Here, give it to me.' Sam took the Glo-Babe over to a tiled floor area and laid it down. She removed one of her shoes and cracked the Glo-Babe with its heel. The Glo-Babe fell in half.

'That was impressive,' Will said. 'I knew you would come in useful.'

'Put your ear to this floor,' Sam said, 'and I'll beat out the dents in that tin head of yours.'

'Ouch! I think I'll pass on that one.' Will picked up the pieces of acrylic and lifted out the Cromite crystal. It sat on the palm of his hand and its artificial flame flickered higher and higher.

'Are you sure it's not going to set anything alight?' Sam asked.

'There's no heat at all. It's decidedly unusual; let's try it in the sunlight.' Will opened the doors onto the outside balcony and dropped the crystal onto a table. It immediately reared up to a height of one metre, and both Sam and Will stepped away. The flame moved vigorously backwards and forwards, even though it was a windless day.

'It looks as if it is trying to attract our attention,' Sam said. 'What lovely colours.'

'You can see why they became so popular in Southland,' Will said. 'Imagine a ring of these around your patio at night, each twice the height of this one. They must have been spectacular. I'd better put this back in the box before anyone starts asking questions.'

Sam and Will returned to the office where Will put the flickering Glo-Babes back in their box.

'Where do you think we should go now?' Will asked.

'I don't think there is much more we can do from here, we should really be looking at Southland.'

'I was thinking the same thing. I should go while you co-ordinate the investigation from this office and keep Milo up to date. I would like to swing by Hinterland on the way out to see if I can find the factory where these things came from. Afterwards, I'll go on to Southland and try to track down Cassell and her partner, Voscow. If they were trading, the factory should be able to give me a lead on where they were based.'

'In view of your arm, don't you think I should be the one travelling out there?'

'You'll be better off staying in a risk-free environment,' Will said. 'I understand that Hinterland can be pretty rough, and I can't imagine Milo giving you the go-ahead after what you have just been through.'

'Then I won't argue,' Sam said. 'Send me everything you find, and I'll log it into the system. That way you won't have much to do when you return.'

'Are you sure you don't have a problem with my plan?'

'Not as much as the problem you are about to have.'

'What problem?'

'You've got to persuade Milo to allow you to travel half way round the world with a gammy shoulder.'

'That is the one thing I hadn't considered. Maybe you could bypass Milo and sort out my tickets in your name.'

'Where I come from, we have a particularly suitable response to that kind of idea.'

'What is it?'

'Dream on!'

#####  Chapter Eleven

Spectacularly, Salaman failed to live up to even the lowest of Will's expectations. After leaving Kalmis airport, he had endured an excruciating journey out, which was mainly attributable to the fact that he had removed his sling to travel more easily. The painkillers he was taking had done little to decrease the pain, and his injured shoulder had throbbed violently throughout the entire journey. After landing on what looked like a different planet through the cruiser window, Will left the airport to find the whole place practically devoid of life. The air was full of smoke, and acrid, chemical-based fumes caught in his throat and lungs. He reluctantly checked into a seedy hotel in what passed for a city centre, and to ease his pain further, he immediately went to the hotel bar for a drink.

The owner came in to serve Will, and gave him the distinct impression that he was the only member of staff on the premises. He presented him with a beer. 'Why you come? You reporter?'

'No,' Will replied. 'I'm here on business.'

'Only reporters now. Everyone is leaving Salaman.'

'Why is that?'

'Don't you know about fire? Fire burns and no water. Not go out. Why you here?'

'I am a friend of Justin Morgan. Do you know him?'

The owner nodded. 'Morgan sometimes stay here. Not for long time.'

'Do you know who he used to meet when he came to Salaman?'

The owner went quiet for a moment. 'I can arrange to see. Cost two hundred dollars.'

Will counted out the money and handed it to the owner.

'Make call. Wait here.' The man immediately disappeared from the room.

Will was sitting in the filthy bar, drinking his beer and wondering if he had just been conned, when a huge man, draped in what looked like a pile of rags, joined him. The man spoke, but Will could not catch a word of what he was saying. Gradually Will worked out that he was telling him his name.

'I don't understand,' Will said. 'Is your name is Garul?'

The huge man with straggly, greasy hair and yellow and gold teeth nodded. He said the name again, but Will still did not catch it. Then Garul it is, he thought.

The man pointed at Will. 'Just – in.'

'Ah, you know Justin. Justin Morgan.'

Garul nodded vigorously, with a flashing yellow smile. 'I friend of Justin.'

Garul reached out and gave Will a stifling hug, crushing his shoulder in the process. Will let out an involuntary cry, and Garul quickly stepped away from him.

Will clutched his aching shoulder, wishing he had kept his sling. 'Sorry. My arm is broken.'

The owner, attracted by Will's exclamation, joined them.

'Can you tell Garul that I have a damaged arm,' Will asked. The owner said something to Garul and he looked relieved. He flashed Will another jaundiced smile in apology. The owner poured Garul a glass of neat spirit, which he drained in one gulp. Garul started to speak to Will in an unknown language.

The owner translated, 'My friend wants to know why you visit.'

Will pulled a Glo-Babe from his pocket and held it out. 'Could you tell Garul, or whoever, that I want to buy these?'

There was a short, animated discussion.

'Not possible,' the owner said.

'Why?'

'Factory is closed.' There was another conversation between the two men. 'Not closed, but ....' He threw his arms into the air. 'On fire.'

'You're telling me that the factory is on fire?'

Garul became agitated. The owner translated again. 'No. Factory that makes Glo-Babes is exploded. Other buildings on fire. You go there now.'

With some trepidation, Will followed the giant man out of the bar and into the street. The sky was darkening into a dull, orange haze, and the smell of smoke lay heavy in the air, trapped by the windless atmosphere. As they travelled through the streets, they encountered shuttered and abandoned buildings, whose occupants had obviously only recently departed. Eventually the sky started to lighten, and they turned a corner to find a roaring inferno ahead of them, where orange clouds of soot and burning debris were exploding into the sky. The ground below their feet shuddered from underground reactions.

'What happened?' Will asked. 'Is this the factory?'

Garul muttered something, but Will was still unable to understand him.

'Come,' Garul said, leading Will away. As they walked, the streets grew quieter and calmer, and the bitter smell of combustion died down. Finally, Garul turned through some gates into a courtyard. Will stared at a run-down building and could not work out why they had stopped there. It looked like a particularly shabby hotel, and dim lights shone through stained windows. Then he noticed a faded red cross painted on the front wall: it was a hospital. Will thought he was taking in a scene from hell and wished he were somewhere else. Why had Garul brought him there? Garul took Will inside the building. A mixture of what looked like blood and bodily fluids stained the walls to shoulder height, and the stench inside the building was overpowering. There were no signs of any staff or movement. Garul showed Will into a room where a single light bulb illuminated a narrow bed. The bandaged form of a man lay on the bed, propped up on soiled pillows. Will approached the bed and found himself looking down into the red-rimmed eyes of a living corpse. The man stared back at him without emotion. Burns distorted most of his face, and bandages covered his arms and hands. Will wondered what the rest of him looked like.

Garul said something to the man in the bed.

The man slowly turned his head and looked at Will. 'You know Morgan?' He spoke normally, but with difficulty, as if the effort of producing each word was taking a part of his life away from him. His accent indicated that he was not a native of Hinterland.

Will nodded. 'Who are you?'

'Bernard. It was my factory. Last time I spoke to Morgan, police were looking for him. Now tell Morgan that the factory blew up, so no more Glo-Babes. Tell him stay away from Salaman.'

'What happened?'

'You are not a buyer.'

'Why do you say that?'

'I know. Tell me who you are.'

Will considered what to do. 'Okay. You are right. I am not a buyer; I am an investigator working directly for the Vennican government.' He pulled out his warrant card and held it up so that Bernard could see it.

'What do you want?'

'I need to find out what is causing the fires in Southland.'

'Same thing as here. I was pushed to clump the crystals and expose them to light to provide bigger displays. I said it could not be done.'

'And that caused the factory to catch fire?'

'Yes. The crystals became unstable and exploded.'

'Do you know Stephan Voscow and Kim Cassell?'

'Yes, they first came to me from the Colonies with a shipment of Cromite. They were with two men, not nice people, who paid me to set up the factory and showed me how to work the Cromite.'

'I think I may have met these two men. Were they tall, pale-skinned, with shaved heads?'

Bernard nodded. 'They minded Cassell and Voscow, but Voscow is dead, killed in the explosion. He gave me a lot of money, and we tried to make the Cromite produce bigger displays. Twenty people died. I am dying. Many businesses nearby were damaged and have shut down. There is nothing left.'

'Does Cassell know about Voscow's death?'

'Yes, I told her.'

'I need to find her. Do you know where she is staying? Is she still in Southland?'

Bernard spoke to Garul, who fished around amongst the tatters of his clothing and pulled out a large wallet. He extracted a contact card and handed it to Will. Will looked at it and saw the company name, K&S Associates, and a Southland postcode.

'Thank you very much,' he said.

Bernard nodded and closed his eyes. 'I made a mistake. Goodbye.'

Will turned to Garul to say goodbye and received another crushing hug.

Before he left, Bernard spoke to him again. 'Are you hoping to be able to control the fires?'

Will's hopes shot up. 'Yes, very much.'

'You cannot control them,' Bernard said. 'The reaction is irreversible.'

Will left the two men talking to each other in their garbled tongue, but stopped at the gates and looked back at the depressing surroundings and tried to visualize what it would be like lying in that room knowing that you were desperately ill. Then he realized that it was not a hospital; it was a hospice where Bernard had come to die, and he felt a deep sadness for all the people there who had suffered because of the Glo-Babes.

The Southland sun shone brightly and Will, feeling over-dressed in a short-sleeved shirt, admired the poolside location. Southland was a huge contrast to run-down Hinterland.

The hotel manager joined him by the pool. 'Are you sure this is legal? I mean you're not from these parts.'

Will handed him his warrant card, along with a folded wad of dollar notes.

The manager quickly scanned the notes and slipped them into his pocket. 'I'll show you inside.'

Will followed the manager into a poolside apartment.

'A couple took it for a year,' the manager said, 'then they disappeared three weeks before the authorities came looking for them. They never checked out, and nobody's been in here since the police searched the place.'

'This is a serious investigation,' Will said, 'and I need to find Cassell. I just want to see if she's left behind any clues as to her whereabouts.'

The manager left Will alone inside the apartment, and he quickly went through the rooms, finding them devoid of any personal belongings. He walked back outside and admired the pool again, then went to the resort reception.

An old man in uniform waited inside the door.

'Are you the concierge?' Will asked.

The old man nodded.

'I'm looking for the occupants of apartment number twenty four. Kim Cassell and Stephan Voscow were staying there. Have you any idea where they may have gone?'

'I don't know where they are. The police searched the apartment, but I don't think they found anything.'

Will did not know what to do next; it was beginning to look like his journey had been in vain.

'Are you with the police?' the concierge asked.

Will laughed and showed his warrant badge. 'I can assure you that I have nothing to do with the police. I've come from Northland.'

'I can't stand the police.' The concierge looked Will over. 'That couple may have left something behind.'

'Something the police overlooked?'

'Possibly.'

Will reached into his pocket and surreptitiously slipped a hundred dollar bill into the concierge's hand.

'The police didn't look hard enough,' he said. 'Come with me.'

Will followed the concierge into a storeroom, where labelled boxes and cases packed the shelves.

The concierge pulled down two suitcases. 'The lady left these two cases to be collected by her man-friend.'

Will tried to open one of them, but it was locked.

The concierge handed him a metal skeleton key. 'You will need this. Give it back to me before you leave.'

The concierge retired, and Will opened the cases. They were both full of crumpled men's clothing and some personal effects, and he surmised that Cassell had been unable to dispose of Stephan's belongings before she left. He sat down and started looking through the contents of the cases, eventually finding a folder containing some of Stephan's personal documents. One of the documents was a receipt for money that had been deposited in a bank account in Stephan's name – a Colonial bank account.

Will pushed the office door open with his knee and struggled through the doorway carrying his flight bags.

Sam jumped up and held the door open for him. 'Hello stranger. It's good to have you back.'

'Do you mean that?' Will replied.

'Of course. You sound surprised.'

'There's a first time for everything.'

'Really? I could not have put it better myself. How is your arm?'

'If I told you I got crushed by a bear,' Will said, 'would you believe me?'

'Actually, I think I would. Stranger things have happened to you.'

Will looked around the office. 'I've missed this place. You have no idea how bad it was in Salaman. It was indescribable, and I don't think I'll ever forget what I have just witnessed.'

'You look absolutely knackered,' Sam said. 'I'll fetch you a coffee.'

'Make that a red bean for me,' Will said. 'I need something strong to keep me going.'

Sam left the room and came back with Will's drink. The two of them sat down at a desk.

Will sat and collected his thoughts while he drank his coffee. 'You've already had my reports, so let's talk this through while things are still fresh in my mind.'

'Okay,' Sam said. 'Where do you want to start?'

'I'm beginning to think that the Cromite trail involves two separate parts. The factory owner said that Cassell and Voscow arrived from the Colonies accompanied by two minders, who probably were the couple that attacked us. The minders helped Bernard set up the Cromite factory, and the others were responsible for the distribution of Cromite crystals in the guise of Glo-Babes, or Glo-Belles. I think it is safe to assume that they were all agents employed by the Colonies. After listening to Morgan's confessions, I think that Cassell and Voscow had planned all along to create the unstable B-Cromite and start fires across Southland, intending to ultimately compromise the whole planet.'

'That company – K&S Associates – was formed before Morgan met Cassell,' Sam said, 'so it would indicate their intent. In addition, Cassell did not appear to be involved with any other companies; she paid for all the product placements on TV at commercial rates. I tracked down two franchisees. They both said Cassel handled her side of the business well, and they were making good money until she disappeared. After that, they never heard from her again.'

'Well, if it was their intention to cause havoc on the planet, it has been very successful. At least it is a relief knowing that the factory producing the Cromite crystals is now inoperative, even if it did cost lives.'

'So how does the university connection fit into this?' Sam asked.

'That is what has been puzzling me most. I have no evidence, so what I am about to say is mainly guesswork. I think that Bayer may have worked with Cromite in the Colonies before coming to Vennica, where he tried to patent it as a form of cheap, universal fuel without the knowledge or permission of the Colonies. Then the two minders, the ones who later attacked us, killed Bayer, but Watson then discovered the work Bayer had done and decided to use it to his own advantage. The agents somehow found out about his intentions and killed him too, but only after discovering the contact card with your name on it.'

'Why were they so desperate to kill everyone associated with the Cromite?'

'I'm really guessing now, but I think that because the original programme was proving so successful, the Colonies did not want anyone else muddying the waters by promoting Cromite. In addition, I would have thought that if it did prove to be a cheap energy source, the Colonies would want to keep the Cromite to themselves. It looks like when Bayer applied for a patent, he effectively signed his own death warrant.'

'That makes sense, but begs the big question: why would the Colonies want to pollute and destroy Vennica?'

'I have no idea. They have tried to invade Vennica before, but since then I understand that the two sides have reconciled. I have seen the destruction in Salaman caused by exploding Cromite, and have witnessed the pollution in Southland, where, as we speak, hundreds of landfill fires are slowly burning their way into the planet crust and setting fire to the surrounding countryside. There must be more to this, but if it is not possible to bring those fires under control, the planet is definitely heading for destruction. From what I have observed so far, we won't have to wait long before we reach that point.'

'Have you discovered any information that would indicate where the Cromite originated?'

'No. If Bayer was working with Cromite in the Colonies, he was presumably trying to find a way to turn it into a usable form of energy. Elsewhere, the substance appears to be unknown, so I have no idea of its origin. There is nothing to indicate that the substance was actually created in the Colonies; it could have come from another planet.'

'Milo has sent samples and copies of Bayer's formulae to some scientific research establishments for assessment. They are trying to find out exactly what the Cromite is.'

'In view of the interest already surrounding this substance, I would be surprised if we discover anything new at this stage. You should know something else. I didn't put it in the reports, but just before I left Bernard in Salaman, he told me that the fires cannot be controlled and that the reaction is irreversible.'

'That doesn't sound very promising,' Sam said, 'but he may know no more than we do. Perhaps we'd better bury that bit of news for the time being.'

'I think that would be a good idea. We're now half way down the road, but I don't know where to go next. The logical step would be to try to track down Cassell in the Colonies, but that would take time, and the Colonies would not welcome a visit from us. In any case, I don't think Cassell would be able to help us resolve the fire situation; we need to look closer to home.'

'I am sure we'll think of something. Assuming that all you say is true, we don't really have much evidence to back up our conclusions.'

'Considering the tight time-scale, I don't think we will obtain much more than we already have in the way of proof, but all my investigations generally start with the solution and work back to the evidence. I think it is time to bring Milo up to date.'

After reading through the reports, Milo put them back on the table. 'You seem to have it buttoned down.'

'We still don't have any direct evidence,' Sam said.

'With or without proof, your findings answer all the questions, and I must act sooner rather than later. Extra time would be a luxury, but the pollution in Southland is growing daily and the press have suddenly woken up to the fact that there is a developing emergency right under their noses. Based upon your findings, we must now concentrate our thoughts on the solution. I have to admit that at this moment in time I cannot see a way forward.'

'Don't forget that the information I have received from the future would indicate that the fires become controlled, and you are involved with the plan,' Will said.

'I am at a loss to work out how, but it is all we have to look forward to. I will inform the President of our findings and ask permission to declare a state of emergency across the planet. We will activate our defence forces and assist Southland to counteract the fires.'

'Have the scientists worked out what these crystals are made of?' Sam asked.

'Not yet,' Milo replied. 'I am hoping for some kind of breakthrough on that front. If we don't know anything about the Cromite, I can't see how we can feasibly work out a method of controlling it.'

'On a lighter note,' Will said, 'I have just received some news about the Phasewave Company that may be of interest to you.'

'If you are about to tell me that it is shut down, go ahead and make my day.'

'That's not quite what happens. Next year the Company goes to court charged with insider trading on the Stock Exchange based on information received from a future source.'

'Let me guess,' Milo said. 'They are fined a billion dollars.'

'Not exactly. In fact, the judge threw the case out.'

'Why?'

'He said it was implausible that anyone could receive information from the future and that the prosecution was wasting the court's time.'

Milo laughed. 'How typical, but it would indicate that the Phasewave Company is still around next year and is, apparently, unaffected by the fires. All we need to do now is find out why it remains unaffected.'

After leaving Milo, Will and Sam returned to their office.

'It looks like we are approaching the end of the line,' Sam said. 'Have you had any thoughts for your future?'

'No,' Will replied. 'I don't like leaving loose ends, and I cannot see where Milo intends to go from here. If only we had a bit more time.'

'It's a pity that Milo can't bugle up that pet alien of his to help out,' Sam humorously suggested.

Will stared at her in silence.

Sam eventually broke the silence. 'You're scaring me, Will. For the first time ever, you have stopped talking.'

'What did you just say?'

'You mean about the alien?'

'What alien?'

'It was just a joke. There were stories about an alien influence during the Vennican invasion.'

Will's brain went into overdrive. 'How do you know about that?'

'I keep in touch with the news. No, I admit that is a lie. My partner keeps in touch with the news and actually showed me a video of you bashing a guy in court.'

'So you knew about it. After I've passed away, I think that is the only thing I will be remembered for.'

'It was rather unique. Tell me; what was the conjuring trick in aid of, and how come you didn't end up in prison?'

'You don't want to know.'

'I do. Go on.'

'Okay. I was due to give evidence against a prominent criminal, who had hired an expensive lawyer to defend him. It was an open and shut case, but the lawyer desperately wanted to discredit me as a witness. Unknown to me, we had a rogue agent in the Department – a rat – and he briefed the lawyer on the best way to do that. I have a notoriously short temper, and the lawyer used the card trick to make me lose my rag in court. When he produced the joker and made out it was me, I saw red, and you saw the rest.'

'That explains one thing. How did you beat the rap?'

'A couple of agents began to suspect that I had been set up, and then this rat let slip that he had just bought a very expensive auto, which you cannot do on an investigator's salary. They went round to his home one night, and I can only guess what happened next, but they came away with a signed confession from him. The lawyer had paid him fifty thousand dollars for his help. James Lockhart, our Service head, confronted the lawyer with it and he dropped the charges. The rat left the department and is believed to be working in Southland.'

'You certainly live life to full,' Sam said.

'That's one way of putting it.' Will tried to damp down the alien references that kept popping up in his mind. He changed the subject. 'I didn't know you had a partner. Who is the lucky man? Do I know him?'

'I doubt it.' Sam thought for a moment. 'Her name is Amelia.'

'Oh.' Will stopped in his tracks, lost for words. 'I should have guessed. I'm sorry. I hope I haven't offended you with any of my bad-taste jokes.'

'You have no reason to be sorry. The problem with being the token woman in the Department means that I don't have anyone to talk to about my private life.'

Will's mind was spinning with thoughts of aliens and partners. 'I need to go home now and think.'

'About me?'

Will smiled. 'I'll try not to. Anyway, I'm pleased to find that you have a life of your own outside work. I now need to spend some time checking these alien references.'

'I'll send you their contact threads; they make fascinating reading.'

'As a matter of interest,' Will asked, 'how did this alien happen to turn up on the scene?'

'As far as I can tell, a Phasewave machine picked up some organic debris from space and tried to process it. It sounds like the machine choked on the debris and somehow turned it into an alien.'

'At the time of the invasion, I didn't hear any mention of an alien. What happened to it afterwards?'

'Apparently, it was the invisible type of alien, and the press eventually decided it was all a hoax and forgot about it. Maybe you should do the same.'

'I have a gut feeling that there was something in it.'

'What do you think is going to happen? Do you expect an alien to suddenly emerge from nowhere and solve our problems? It was only a joke.'

'When a collection of unexplained events occurs, it means you have to look outside the box.'

'I like the sound of that,' Sam said.

'So do I,' Will said. 'Your way of thinking is starting to rub off on me. Now I must go and do some digging around. Call me if you discover anything important.'

'Don't worry if you don't find anything, and watch your back,' Sam said. 'Remember that these alien things are invisible.'

Glen replaced a stack of files on the desk.

'Thanks for that,' Milo said. 'I needed to run them past a fresh eye in case we've overlooked something obvious.'

'I think I understand what happens,' Glen said. 'Once the Cromite reaches a particular state, it clumps together and the crystals fuse, releasing vast amounts of energy in the process. That is as far as we have gone. I was disappointed with the scientific reports, which say much the same thing, except that the scientists are not prepared to go any further due to the risk of starting raging infernos in their laboratories. The best they can come up with is that in all probability the crystals will eventually become inactive – no timescale included. A fat lot of use they've been; the last thing we need right now is an intellectual solution when we are up to our backsides in burning Cromite.'

'Well, I don't think we have missed anything, but we seem to have ground to a halt. I'm beginning to think that I may have placed too much faith in Will and his future predictions.'

'It's beginning to look that way, but there's still time,' Glen said. 'I need to discuss something with you, and this might be the right opportunity. After that dreadful diplomatic journey around the planet, I was considering tendering my resignation, but with all these things going on, I think I should hold off until things become settled in Southland. I get the impression that the government has finally woken up to its responsibilities, and I have a horrible feeling that they may want me to go back there at some point.'

'You're probably right; when they start looking for someone to go out, you will be the obvious first choice. We've already sent over two thousand troops to help control the fires and set up an emergency network. Let's hope that they can achieve something.'

'In the meantime, I've been working on a plan to free you from this nonsense with the Truth and Reconciliation Committee,' Glen said. 'I think you will like this. Now, listen carefully. Here is what you have to do: ....'

Daniel Wilcox continued to brief his team before Milo's appearance at the Truth and Reconciliation Committee. 'Remember, it is important to show that we are not on his side, so no smiling. Just look severe and stare him out. We're searching for his weak spots.'

'From what I have heard,' Maxwell said, 'Milo doesn't sound like a man with many weak spots. He isn't going to take this lying down, so be prepared for a fight.'

'Watch and learn,' Daniel replied. 'I have a plan in mind.'

They stopped talking when Milo entered the room. A tall, hard-faced man with slicked-back dark hair accompanied him.

'You are not allowed to bring an advisor with you,' Daniel said. 'This is a strictly confidential hearing.'

'I haven't come for the hearing,' Milo said. 'I am here to tell you that I am unable to address the committee due to a conflict of interest.'

'What might this conflict be?' Maxwell asked.

'I have just authorised an investigation into the activities of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee. Allow me to introduce Brad Shipley; he will be leading the investigation.'

Daniel was shocked. 'What activities? We are just a committee seeking information.'

'You advised the government to release three prominent members of the invasion force as a gesture of goodwill,' Milo informed him. 'It has now been revealed that the Colonial government has pardoned those persons and declared them to be revolutionary heroes. Those are the same persons who were about to murder almost one million residents of Kalmis immediately before their arrest.'

'The government made that decision, not me, and anyway, you don't have the authority to investigate us,' Daniel said. 'We have statutory immunity; you cannot over-ride that.'

'I am the Secretary for Defence and Security, and I can.'

'The court has appointed us, and their authority is the law.'

'You're out of touch. The judiciary are no longer empowered to exercise that authority. Under Vennican civil law, the Security Department, of which I am head, now issues all legal authorisations. Brad will shortly be interviewing you and your committee members. In the meantime, you are to restrict your movements and remain in Northland until this inquiry is over. You are, of course, required to give Brad your full co-operation.'

Brad stepped forward and laid a warrant on the table in front of Daniel.

After Milo and Brad had left the room, the panel members stared at each other in disbelief.

'I didn't know that Milo had been upped to Secretary,' Paul said. 'When did that happen?'

'I think we can say with some degree of certainty that we are now well and truly fucked,' Maxwell said. 'Well done, Reverend.'

'Don't try to pin the blame on me,' Daniel retorted. 'You didn't do anything to stop me calling Milo in.'

'This meeting is now closed,' Maxwell said. 'I want the panel to stay behind. As for you, Reverend, I suggest you crawl back to that church of yours, get down on your knees and pray for a good defence strategy.'

Daniel remained seated.

Maxwell jumped to his feet. 'Get out of this room!'

Daniel still made no move to comply.

Maxwell lost his patience and grabbed Daniel by the arm. He shook him hard and spoke through clenched teeth, 'Get out of this room before I throw you out.'

Daniel slowly got to his feet walked out of the room in a daze. Only when he reached the porch did the enormity of what had just happened hit him. He stopped for a while, looked briefly behind him at the closed door, and then set off on a lonely journey back to his church.

The panel members pulled their chairs closer to the table.

'I didn't expect that,' Jacinda said.

'Wilcox refused to listen to us,' Maxwell said, 'and now we're all going to suffer. We need to act together to distance ourselves from him. Are we all in agreement?'

The other panel members nodded.

'That guy Shipley looked like he was raring to go,' Paul said. 'It won't be long before we start receiving subpoenas.'

'We must get in first,' Maxwell said. 'You have experience in this sort of thing, Paul. Do you know any defence lawyers?'

'I have contacts in the profession; leave it to me.'

Maxwell looked around the room. 'I guess this is it, then. Thanks to Wilcox, all this work has been for nothing, and now we're going to be the ones on the receiving end.'

Jacinda flicked through her notes. 'Can I take it as read that the demonic stroke alien subject is now off the table?' she asked.

Milo and Brad walked back through the city centre to the Security Department headquarters.

'That went predictably well,' Brad said.

'I don't think you will have a problem,' Milo replied. 'Thanks for standing in at short notice.'

'Now I'm retired, I don't actually look for work, but this type of activity helps keep the old brain-cells working. By the way, how is my niece doing? I hear she had a bit of a dust-up.'

'Your niece? I'm afraid I don't know her.'

'She works for you. Samantha – Sam Sergeant.'

'Oh, of course. I wasn't aware she was related to you.'

'Well, she was looking for a more exciting job than Homeland Security, but I don't think she was quite expecting what happened.'

'She was very lucky. It's just as well that Will Avery was with her at the time.'

'Will? Don't tell me he has been re-employed after that court debacle.'

'Yes. He saved Sam's life, and he and Sam now report directly to me. They are a good team and have done a lot of work on the Southland fires.'

'Well, I hope Sam manages to keep him at arm's length. He had a bit of a reputation as a lady's man.'

'He tells me he is living with his partner now, so he may have settled down.'

The two men reached the building. 'I'll let you get on with your interrogation,' Milo said, 'while I now eagerly await the next development in this Cromite saga.'

The cab set off from the city centre into the night to the sound of heavy rain pounding on its roof.

'I've already said I'm sorry,' Sam said. 'It was my fault; I shouldn't have agreed to go out tonight when I didn't feel like it.'

Amelia pointedly ignored her and stared out of the cab window.

'Anyway, how could anyone enjoy themselves in this lousy weather? The lights were too noisy and the sound was too bright.'

'I think you got those the wrong way round,' Amelia pointed out.

'That's exactly what it felt like.'

'You don't talk about anything other than work or Will nowadays,' Amelia said. 'I was only trying to cheer you up, but I don't seem to be part of your life anymore.'

'Don't be silly,' Sam snapped. 'Of course you are part of my life.'

'But obviously not a very big part.'

'Whatever you say,' Sam said in frustration.

The two women completed their journey in silence. Sam tried to work out a way to break the deadlock, and then gave up, knowing that she had just created the first argument in their two years together.

Amelia was already in bed by the time Sam entered the bedroom, and the room was dark. Sam undressed and slipped into bed next to her. She reached out and waited, and eventually Amelia responded. Their arms entwined in a familiar embrace, and Sam felt their breasts press together and Amelia's breath against her cheek. The wind buffeted the building and raindrops rattled against the windows. The bed was warm and cosy.

'I'm really sorry about tonight,' Sam said.

Amelia pulled Sam close and gave her a hug. 'How could I ever stay mad at you? But I think I'm losing you.'

Sam became alert. 'What makes you say that?'

'You are different. You have changed; you haven't been the same since you met Will.'

'Don't be daft,' Sam said. 'Will is not a part of my life and never will be.'

'You won't accept it, but Will has changed you. Tell me that you don't have any affection for him.'

'Of course not. You're not losing me; what is troubling you?'

'You can't deny that our relationship has changed. We have never argued before. Never.'

'I admit that was my fault. I understand what you are saying, but it should not concern you. Yes, things may have changed, but they have changed for me, not for you. We are still the same couple. You are not losing me.'

'I can't help worrying. What would I do without you?'

Sam held Amelia tighter and felt their naked bodies mould together. She ran her fingers through Amelia's hair and caressed her face. 'Do you remember when we first met?'

Amelia smiled, and Sam caught the white glint of her teeth in the darkness. 'Of course I do,' she said. 'We were ice skating and you fell and I caught you. That's how we met.'

'No you didn't,' Sam said. 'I lost my balance and dragged you down. You banged your head on the ice and were semi-conscious when we first met.'

'Now I remember. I woke up and looked into the face of an angel, a blue-eyed angel.'

'That was just me.'

'Afterwards you asked me out on a date.'

'No I didn't. I was worried that you had concussion and felt guilty. I asked you out for a meal.'

'Only it was in a bar, where we had too much to drink.'

'Then you brought me back here and we ended up in this bed together. I still don't know how that happened.'

'It was fate. Did you mind?'

'No, but I was surprised.'

'No worries, then?'

'It seemed completely natural, although I must admit I had never had those feelings before.'

'You led a strange life, but at least you had boyfriends; that was something I never experienced.'

'I guess my life was a bit unusual,' Sam said. 'My mother and father were actually married. What in God's name was that about? Living with my brothers left me with a low opinion of the opposite sex, but when my friends started dating, I felt like I should give it a go. The boys I met turned out to be worse than my brothers were, so I gave up on that and determined to live my own life. Then both my parents were killed in that accident, and since then, I seem to have lived my life inside a bubble. During that period, however, I seemed to have missed out on a lot of things that were going on; huge portions of life simply passed me by.'

Amelia considered Sam's words. 'Well, something has changed.'

'Yes, it has. When I first met Will, I thought he was a complete idiot, but when it came to the crunch, Will stepped up and saved my life. He knew exactly what was happening, yet he took a knife that was intended for me. Afterwards, when I picked him up, with blood pouring all over the place, his first question was to ask me if I was all right. That meant a lot to me. For the first time in my life, a man had put me first, and I cannot tell you how strange I found that. Then, instead of sacking me, the men I worked with started talking to me and asking my opinions. Now that really was surreal.'

'Do you have any sexual feelings for Will?'

'I have no particular affection for him. For the first time in my life, I have gained recognition and been rewarded for something that I have done. For me, this is a new experience. I feel as though I have stepped out of the bubble into a cold, hard world, but I am no longer afraid of being rejected and think I have finally earned the respect to which I feel entitled.'

'You're making me jealous,' Amelia said. 'You can still come back inside the bubble.'

'I don't think that bubble exists anymore, not for me, anyway.'

'I still want you to share my bubble.'

'I'll always be inside your bubble.' Sam relaxed in Amelia's arms, but just before falling asleep, she inadvertently let out a long sigh.

#####  Chapter Twelve

It was unusual for the President to call a meeting at short notice and late at night, so Milo knew that something serious must have happened. The President's aide was expecting Milo and showed him into a private office where Victor Harrington was already waiting.

The President rose stiffly to his feet when Milo entered the room. 'Thank you for coming, Milo.'

'This must be important,' Milo said. He looked around the room; they were the only two people there.

'Let's sit over here.' Victor ushered Milo to a couple of leather armchairs. 'We may as well be comfortable.'

Victor slowly lowered himself into a chair. He had been suffering from back problems for years, and at his age, it appeared unlikely that they would ever be resolved. 'We have a situation,' he said, 'and when I couch my speech in such terms, it usually means that the person I am addressing has a situation.'

'What is it?' Milo asked.

'This afternoon, I received a visit from the Colonial Representative, Logan Gunston. It was a private, one-to-one conversation, and, because of our agreement, I have not discussed this subject with anyone else until now, so I have not been able to check the veracity of anything he told me. What he said was that he was authorised to act on behalf of the United Colonies, and he offered to help control the fires that are raging in Southland by providing assistance and equipment that would render inert the flammable substances known as Cromite. He explained that the Colonies had manufactured Cromite and carried out extensive work to exploit its potential as a universal fuel. Based on that experience, the Colonies now possess the ability to bring the fires under control before they destroy most of Southland and cause irreversible pollution to the planet's atmosphere. In return, the Colonies are demanding that the Vennican government agrees to binding powers that would allow the Colonies to subsume Vennica and its population into the Colonial Union. I disagreed, and the Ambassador said he would wait until I changed my mind. He informed me that only the Colonies possessed the means to end the problem, and by leaving it much longer, we would eventually lose our planet. His personal view was that the Colonies did not care whether we lost our planet or not; the decision to save Vennica would be ours alone. You are the only other person who is privy to this information, but I must put it before the government when it next sits in a week's time.'

'That's a hard call,' Milo said. 'All attempts to contain the fires in Southland have ended in failure; are you sure that the Colonies have the means to do better?'

'I have no idea,' Victor said. 'Logan assured me that there is a ship on its way right now with all the necessary equipment on board. Access to that equipment will be immediately available after we have agreed to the Colonial demands. Before I do anything, I need to know what progress you have made.'

'We now believe that the Colonies deliberately introduced the Cromite crystals onto Vennica in the form of Glo-Babes and Glo-Belles in the knowledge that they would ultimately cause the damage we are now looking at. Once the crystals were uncontained and subject to high levels of ultraviolet light, as in Southland, they became unstable, and when they clumped together in the landfills, the crystals fused and changed into another form of Cromite, generating enormous amounts of heat in the process. Unfortunately, we have not yet worked out how that reaction might be reversed, but we are still working on it.'

'I can only give you the next week to come up with a solution before I make the announcement,' Victor responded. 'We are already facing a crop failure in Southland and severe climate pollution; the last thing I want to do is trigger a panic and destabilize the global economies. In view of the tight time scale, I fear that submitting to the Colonial demands might be our only option.'

'I'll do everything I can,' Milo said. 'I will brief you again before the end of the week.'

'Let's hope that we can come up with something,' Victor said. 'I can't see the government going down the Colonial route without a fight, especially if it becomes known that this was yet another attempt by the Colonies to attack Vennica. We could end up with a revolution on our hands.'

Milo arrived home to find Glen waiting up for him. He relayed the essence of the conversation he had just had with the President.

Glen sat at a table in their lounge, not knowing how to respond. 'A week,' she finally said. 'Is that all the time we have?'

'I'm afraid so,' Milo said. 'I put all my faith in Will, and his predictions have not materialized. I felt a complete fool trying to convince the President that we were working on a solution when all we had was a vague idea from a questionable agent. I made a big mistake.'

'What else could you have done?' Glen asked. 'We are not scientists or engineers, and I cannot see anyone being able to sort out the fires within the next week.'

'I'm at my wit's end,' Milo admitted. 'Sam and Will have been working on this full-time, and we haven't even discovered what the crystals are made of. I haven't a clue where to go next. The very thought of submitting to Colonial rule makes my blood boil, and how do we know that they can deliver on their promises?'

'I'm with you on that. I can't see the government agreeing to any dealings with the Colonies; this could be the end of Victor.' Glen got up and fetched them both a glass of wine. 'I can think of only one way it might be resolved, but you won't like it.'

'I'm open to any suggestion. What have you in mind?'

'The alien has long since gone, but with its vast intelligence, it would probably be the only source of a viable solution to this particular problem. It had been willing to help the planet in the past, and now we desperately need to resolve this situation and see off the Colonies. If we could contact the alien, do you think it would be able to help us?'

'I was under the impression that the alien had left us for good. How could we possibly contact it after all this time?'

'It's a long shot, but we could visit the Phasewave base and try to contact it through Unit Four. Isn't that where all the to-ing and fro-ing took place?'

'It was, but that was over two years ago. Why would the alien still be there?'

Glen shrugged. 'It's all I can think of.'

'Okay, it's worth a try. I'll call the base manager and tell him we're coming.'

'You're not exactly popular in that area; do you think he'll let you in?'

'Let him try and stop me,' Milo said.

'Get your things together,' Milo said. 'We now have a free pass to a Phasewave Base.'

Glen collected her coat and bag. 'That was quick. I expected an argument.'

'There was a little resistance at first. Then I told the manager that I was going to visit Unit Four, which was still a crime scene linked to an unsolved crime, and if he wanted to obstruct me, I would arrive with a team and close the whole base down while every square centimetre of it was searched. Alternatively, he could just let us in for a quick visit. The manager thought it over for a nanosecond and then agreed that it was a great idea. We are welcome to visit any time we want, or at least until I get kicked out of the Secretary's job, which at the rate this investigation is going, might be sooner rather than later.'

'Well done, and stay positive. How are we going to get there?'

'I've ordered a ministerial cruiser. At least we can arrive in style.'

Milo opened the door marked UNIT FOUR and ushered Glen inside the Phasewave machine. She stopped and stared around her. 'This is larger than I expected; I've only seen photos of the insides of one of these things. So, this is where five people died. It's a bit spooky.'

'Yes, this is it.' Milo listened to the low-pitched humming sound of the machine in action and could not resist the urge to look down at the floor next to the console where Jenna, Declan and Brant had laid down and died, and the two areas where the bodies of the rogue agents, Slater and Jarvine, were discovered. Everything in the room felt cold and unfriendly, and he was starting to regret coming there. Surely, the alien must have moved on since those events occurred. Desperation was turning to madness.

'What do you need to do?' Glen asked.

'I have never attempted this before but understand that all I have to do is put my hands on the cabinet here and wait.' Now the time had come, Milo felt absurd and self-conscious. He wished that he had insisted that Glen wait outside, but there was no turning back. Milo stepped forward and placed his hands firmly on the casing. Nothing happened. There was no feeling, no sound, just a cold, inert metal object beneath his hands.

Suddenly, he let go and took a pace back.

Glen stepped out of his way. 'What happened?'

Milo held his hands to his head. 'There was nothing there, and then, just as I let go, I felt a tingling sensation in my fingers and this terrible sense of sadness and loneliness.'

'Maybe the alien was trying to contact you. Give it another go.'

Milo gingerly replaced his hands on the metal casing, but there was no reaction at all from inside the machine. 'Whatever it was, it's gone. That was so real, it was as if someone was crying out to me.'

'It must have been static electricity. This place is getting to both of us. There's no obvious sign of the alien's presence, so let's get out of here.'

'You're right; it's just my imagination playing tricks. Forget about the alien; we're going home.'

The next morning, Margaret intercepted Milo as soon as he arrived at work.

'Will Avery is waiting for you in your office,' she announced. 'He said it was important, so I let him in.'

'I wonder what he's got to tell me this time,' Milo mused. 'Let's hope it's not more surprises.'

Milo entered his office and greeted Will, who looked nervous.

'What are you doing here?' Milo asked.

'Tell me about the alien.'

Milo tried to conceal his surprise. 'What alien?'

'Before the attempted Colonial invasion, there were multiple reports in the press about the existence of an alien on Bouron. You headed up that investigation, you and Glen.'

'Those reports were completely discredited,' Milo replied, 'especially after it turned out that the alleged alien was invisible. It was all a media hoax.'

'Later on, three people died inside a Phasewave machine, and their deaths remain unexplained. I think that an alien was somehow involved.'

'What has brought this on? Why are you fixated about something that never happened? Aliens only exist in peoples' imaginations.'

'First, there are things we need to discuss,' Will said. 'I've been searching through a lot of archived press reports, and your name comes up everywhere. I think you and Glen know a lot more than you are admitting and have been involved with an alien. I followed the events leading up to the invasion and asked myself how you managed, almost single-handedly, to foil the Colonial invasion and take over as President of Vennica. Forgive me for sounding sceptical, but why am I the only person questioning how you managed to achieve such spectacular feats without receiving a little help along the way? And I am not referring to Glen.'

'You suddenly seem to be willing to attack me and doubt my word. Where is this conversation leading?'

'We both know that the situation with the fires is uncontrollable,' Will said. 'I believe I know how this situation becomes resolved.'

'Your forecast for the future has been disproved, and I have been left high and dry in front of the President due to my belief in you. I don't have any faith in you at all and want you to leave this office.'

'No. Please listen. The situation is resolved by the alien.'

'Did you receive that information from the future?'

'No. I worked it out.'

'That is truly insane, and I think you have lost touch with reality. Leave this office now, and don't come back.'

'If I leave now, you will regret doing this,' Will said.

'Listening to you in the first place when you turned up with crazy stories about picking up news from the future is the only thing I regret. You are now clutching at straws only to try to save your own reputation. I have had enough. You can either leave of your own accord, or I will have you escorted from the building.'

'I'm leaving, but you are wrong.' Will turned and walked out of Milo's office.

Sam watched while Will started to pack his belongings into cardboard boxes.

'You can't just up-sticks and walk out,' she said. 'What are you going to do now?'

Will continued to empty his desk. 'I've got a business; I won't starve.'

'At least you have Celia.'

Will thought for a moment. 'That's not exactly a given.'

'What do you mean? I thought you two were an item.'

'I shouldn't say these things, but Celia is finding that living with me is not what she expected. I think that she misses her old lifestyle. She'll probably get over it.'

'I hope she does,' Sam said. 'You have done everything you could on this case, and I want to approach Milo on your behalf.'

'No, don't. Milo has lost faith in me, and I can't work here any longer. My days as an investigator are now officially over.'

As Will stacked his boxes on top of each other, Sam stood by helplessly, unable to accept what was happening.

'We've been through so much together,' she said. 'It can't just end like this. Are we ever going to meet again?'

'Only if I do something wrong, and you come to arrest me.' Will finished his packing and stood, waiting to leave.

Sam felt a lump in her throat. 'So this really is it – no more Will?'

'I guess so. You'll be better off without me.'

'I don't think so. It won't be the same.'

They stood, facing each other, not knowing what to say. Sam felt tears well up in her eyes.

'Don't be sad,' Will said. 'Maybe we could hook up sometime.'

'Maybe.' Sam's voice faltered, and she could not hold back the tears. 'You saved my life.'

Will walked to her and held her in his arms. He inhaled the smell of her hair. 'Don't cry. You are a very special person, and I wish you all the happiness you deserve.'

Sam buried her head in his chest. 'I can't believe you are leaving.'

Will tightened his embrace, unwilling to let go, yet knowing that it was inevitable. He finally released her and they stood, face to face, not knowing what to say or do. He stared into Sam's tearful blue eyes and thought that he had never seen such a beautiful woman. Their bodies closed again and Sam reached out and pulled their faces together. She gently pressed her lips against his. Will froze. The kiss seemed to last forever, until he felt he was about to explode. Then he managed to pull himself away, breathing heavily, and they continued to stare at each other.

'You're making me cry again,' Sam finally said.

Will nodded, and then turned and walked from the office, leaving his belongings behind. He exited the building in a state of turmoil, and all he could think of as he made his way out into the busy city streets was the taste and touch of Sam's lips. He tried to rationalize his feelings, and then realized that he was completely smitten with her and had been all along. It was something he had never before experienced.

That same morning, Glen spent most of her time in her office, briefing her staff and finalizing the report from her Vennican tour. By mid-day, she was feeling stale and unsettled by Milo's situation and the impending Colonial threat, so she walked outside to a nearby café to fetch something for lunch. Normally, one of her juniors would have made the trip, but that day she felt a desperate need to take in some fresh air and stretch her legs. Glen bought a drink and a wrap from the café. She was debating whether to take a seat outside the café or take them back to the office when she heard someone calling her name.

'You're Glen, aren't you?'

Glen glanced at the middle-aged, olive-skinned woman with bunched hair, but could not place her. 'I'm sorry. Who are you?'

'I'm Nya Gomez. I need a word.' She sounded insistent.

'Maybe we could meet some other time. You can contact my office if it's urgent.'

'I already tried, but they won't let me in.'

'I really cannot help you right now.'

'I work for the Phasewave Company. We need to talk in private.'

The reference to Phasewave triggered an alarm. Glen stared at Nya, trying to work out what she wanted. 'Okay,' she agreed. 'Follow me.'

Glen took the other woman back to her office and closed the door behind them. 'Why have you contacted me?' Glen asked.

'I have a message for you.'

'Who told you to give me this message?'

'She said her name was Jenna.'

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. 'That's not possible,' Glen said. 'What do you know about Jenna?'

The woman shook her head. 'I don't know anything. She just appeared on a screen and asked me to bring a message to you. She said you would make it worth my while.'

Glen guided Nya to a chair. 'I want you to start from the beginning. Take your time. Where did you meet this Jenna?'

'Inside the Phasewave.'

'You were actually inside a Phasewave machine?'

'No, outside. I'm just a cleaner. I was cleaning number four unit when a monitor came on and there she was – on the screen, staring at me.'

Glen was puzzled. 'What did she look like?'

'I dunno. Just an old woman. Grey hair.'

'So what was her message?'

Nya fished around inside her purse and pulled out a scrap of paper. 'She made me write it down.' Nya gave the paper to Glen, but Glen could not decipher the other woman's writing and handed it back. 'You had better read it to me.'

'I had to write in a hurry. It says that Jenna wants an urgent meeting with you and a guy called Miler.'

'I think that's Milo.'

'Could be. My writing's not that good. She said you have met before at Plane. That's about it.'

'It was probably Plano.'

'Yes, that's what she said.'

'What else did she say?'

'Nothing. Look, I've taken time off and have to go back to work. That's all she said, then she disappeared.'

'Well thank you for coming and giving me the message.' Glen opened her purse and gave Nya a couple of hundred dollars in notes. 'I'm afraid that's all I've got on me. I hope you aren't going to get into trouble on my behalf.'

Nya accepted the notes. 'I'll be okay. Tell me – where is this lady coming from?'

Glen shrugged. 'I wish I could give you an answer to your question, but I honestly do not know. I'll pass the message on to Milo, and we'll get in touch with her.'

Glen watched Nya's slight figure disappear down the corridor and then sat down at her desk in a state of mild shock. Had that conversation really taken place?

'You can't be serious,' Milo said. 'How could Jenna have accessed the Phasewave monitor?'

'I'm telling you exactly what Nya told me.' Glen was visibly agitated. 'Jenna has somehow returned to Vennica, and it looks like she is inside the machine.'

Milo struggled to accept what Glen was telling him.

'She mentioned your name and the fact that we had met in Plano,' Glen added. 'That sounds like Jenna, but what's with the old woman bit?'

'It's not long since we last came into contact with Jenna,' Milo said, 'so how can she have aged that much? I don't understand why she has popped up again in our lives; I thought she was gone for good.'

'The last time we had dealings with Jenna, she turned out to be a manipulative liar. God knows why she has suddenly surfaced.'

'You're right; Jenna is definitely not to be trusted,' Milo said. 'I wonder why she wants to talk to us.'

'If we still have access to the Phasewave base, we should be able to contact her through the monitor,' Glen said. 'It's a pity that Will is unable to help us with this situation; he obviously hasn't heard anything from the future involving Jenna.'

'Talking of Will, he came to see me in my office this morning.'

'What did he want?'

'He has been working through archived news reports from around the time of the invasion and wanted to know if an alien was involved.'

'What did you tell him?'

'Nothing. He claims to have worked out that the alien resolves the situation with the fires.'

'Coupled with Jenna's re-emergence, that sounds more than a coincidence. Has he received a message from the future?'

'No. From what I could gather, his assertion appears to have been based on an educated guess.'

'What did he expect you to do?'

'He didn't get that far because I threw him out of the office. He is no longer on the case.'

'Well, he had his chance, and now we are in a mess. Are we going to contact Jenna?'

'I don't know what she is after, but I guess we'll have to try to bottom this. However, we must be extremely careful in any dealings we may have with her.'

'Here we are again,' Milo said, standing in front of Phasewave Unit Four. 'We don't seem to be able to keep away from this machine.'

'I wonder what we are going to find,' Glen said.

'Well soon find out.' Milo switched on the nearest monitor and waited. Nothing happened.

'It's gone dead, just like the last time we were here,' Glen said.

'Milo looked around the room. 'Maybe we need to try a different monitor.'

Suddenly the screen flashed into life, revealing the face of an old woman.

Glen tried to keep the shock from showing on her face. The person on the screen looked old and frail, quite unlike the young woman Jenna had been the last time Glen saw her in Plano.

The voice that came through the speakers was also that of an old woman. 'Yes, it's me, Jenna,' the voice said. 'I don't expect you to recognise me.'

Milo did not know what to say; he was uncertain that it was Jenna talking from the screen.

'You sent me a message,' Glen said. 'Why did you contact me?'

'I have returned from the future,' Jenna said. 'A Phasewave machine malfunctioned while I was travelling to Vennica and accidentally sent me back four years in time. I have now been in isolation for a year, trapped inside the machine, and I have been unable to access the network.'

'What caused the malfunction?' Milo asked.

'The Phasewave Company overloaded their network so much that the Wave collapsed and the whole system failed. That means it is going to fail three years from now in your time'

'Are you saying that the Phasewave network will cease to exist in three years' time?'

'I do not know. I have been out of contact and have no knowledge of anything that has happened since I returned to Vennica one year ago. The Phasewave malfunction also affected my imprint and caused me to age rapidly; while I have been trapped inside the machine, I have been slowly dying'

'What can we do for you?' Milo asked.

'First of all, may I ask you why you visited this unit two days ago?'

'I was concerned about the fires that are threatening our planet and, as a last resort, wondered if the alien was still here and could be of assistance.'

'I have lost all contact with the alien,' Jenna said. 'The fires to which you are referring are the result of a Colonial plot to contaminate Vennica through the distribution of Cromite crystals. The resulting fires are impossible to control by conventional means.'

'We are aware of that, but we have been offered an alternative solution.' Milo related the demands made by the Colonies in exchange for their assistance in bringing the fires under control.

'The Colonies do not have the capabilities to help you,' Jenna explained. 'For years they have been trying to convert Cromite into a power source, but they have been unable to harness the energy it produces and have already suffered an explosion that destroyed a power station. All their experiments failed under controlled conditions, so there is no way they could extinguish an open-air landfill fire.'

'Do you have the ability to control these fires?' Milo asked.

'Yes,' Jenna replied. 'I have already been through this procedure. I will supply you with the necessary information to terminate the fires; you will give that to your government, and within weeks the fires will no longer exist.'

'How can you achieve all that from inside this Phasewave?' Milo asked.

'I don't. I swap places with Glen and inhabit her body for two days while I carry out your task.'

'What!' Milo said abruptly. 'I can assure that isn't going to happen.'

'Remember that I have already been here, and I can assure you that it does happen. I'm sorry, Glen, but this is just the way things works out.'

'You told us you were dying,' Glen said. 'How will you be able to leave the machine with a damaged imprint?'

'That is correct, but once I occupy your body, my imprint will revert to normal. Then, when we exchange places again, I will have a new imprint, and you will reoccupy your body with your original imprint, which you will have retained whilst you were inside the Phasewave.'

'How can we trust you?' Milo asked. 'You have shown us nothing to support your claims.'

'I know this is going to be a significant act of faith on your part, but you must accept my word.'

'We will need time to consult about your request,' Milo responded.

'Take all the time you want,' Jenna said. 'I am not making a request; I am telling you what is going to happen. Milo, you must accept that you are going to be the person who saves your planet, and it will happen exactly as I have said. Neither you, nor I can change the past or the future. That is our destiny.'

'We will now leave,' Milo said. 'I will let you know what we decide.'

'Don't forget that I already know your response,' Jenna replied.

#####  Chapter Thirteen

Glen and Milo sat quietly in the cruiser on the journey home, mulling over Jenna's statements.

'Have you any thoughts?' Milo eventually asked.

'I cannot understand what is happening,' Glen said. 'Can Jenna really supply us with the information to control the fires?'

'She knew all about the Colonial intent and their efforts to control the Cromite,' Milo said. 'If she has spent a year out of contact, locked inside a Phasewave unit, how would she know anything about that unless she actually has been involved? However, I don't think she is telling us everything she knows.'

'We are not going to find out anything unless we do as she asks,' Glen said, 'and we only have a few days left before the Colonial solution is presented to the government. There is no choice: come what may, I have to change places with Jenna.'

'No way are you going to let Jenna inside your body,' Milo said. 'That would be asking far too much. Jenna has to face her problems on her own.'

'It appears to me that Jenna's problems already include us.'

The journey continued in silence. 'I can't see any way we can become involved with Jenna,' Milo eventually said. 'I don't believe that this is the done deal that she would like us to believe; we will have to look elsewhere for a solution.'

'When Jenna spoke to us, she seemed to be very sure of her facts, and with only four days to go, we don't have the option of finding another solution. I must change places with Jenna.'

'It's too risky. We both know what Jenna is capable of, and once she has taken control of your body, we will both be powerless to do anything about it.'

'Then what do you intend to do?' Glen asked.

Milo remained silent.

'I can feel the inside of my head churning,' Glen said. 'We need to sleep on this before we do anything.'

'I don't think either of us is going to get much sleep tonight,' Milo said.

The city of Kalmis appeared on the horizon ahead, and Glen watched the approaching metropolis slowly expand into defined structures as they drew nearer. The cruiser gently nosed into a descent, and Milo reached over and squeezed Glen's hand. She smiled back in appreciation, but inside, her thoughts were in turmoil, and she had never felt so lonely and confused in her life.

In the middle of the night, Milo opened his eyes and found Glen sat on the edge of the bed, staring at him in the semi-darkness. He sat up and switched on a light.

'I'm going to do it,' Glen said.

'No. That's not going to happen. I won't allow it.'

'It's my decision, and my mind's made up. This will be your only opportunity to sort out the fires, but I will only carry out the exchange on one condition.'

'What is that?'

'First you must give me your word.'

Milo had a feeling that something bad was coming his way. 'I can't do that.'

'This is my choice, not yours. How do you think you will feel when, night after night, you will lie here safe in your own bed knowing that Jenna is trapped inside that machine with no way to escape? I may not like Jenna, but I could not leave her under those conditions and be able to live with myself. You know as well as I do that if there is to be any chance whatsoever of resolving the current crisis, this has to be done, and you have to agree to my condition.'

'You are asking too much.'

'You do not know what I am going to ask for, and that's for me to decide. Agree, and I will hold you to your word. This is the only way forward.'

Milo remained silent, and then reluctantly agreed. 'Okay, what is your condition?'

'If Jenna reneges on the deal, you will kill me and burn my body.'

'What!' Milo gasped.

'That is all I am going to say on the subject,' Glen said. 'We will visit the Phasewave base tomorrow, and you will return with Jenna. Now, turn off the light, and try to get some sleep.'

The next morning, Milo and Glen once again found themselves standing before a monitor screen inside the Phasewave machine. The monitor lit up, and Jenna's face appeared.

'Have you made your decision?' Jenna asked.

'Yes,' Glen said. 'I am willing to change places with you.'

'I thank you,' Jenna replied, 'and I categorically assure you that you are in no danger. Place your hands on the machine, and I will complete the transfer. Milo, support Glen in case she falls.' The face on the screen faded from sight.

Glen remained silent as they approached the machine. Before reaching for the machine, she turned and looked Milo in the eye. 'I am relying on you. Don't forget our agreement.'

'I won't,' Milo said. He gave Glen a farewell kiss. 'Be brave.'

Glen gave a faint smile, then turned and put both her hands on the machine casing. Milo held her around her waist, and she immediately went limp in his arms. He supported her while she recovered and released her once she was standing normally again.

Jenna took a step and almost toppled over, but Milo caught her in time.

'That was unexpected,' Jenna said.

Milo was surprised to hear the sound of Glen's voice; for some reason he had expected Jenna to talk in her colonial accent.

'I have never worn heels this high,' Jenna continued. 'How did Glen learn how to do it?'

Milo overcame his feelings and clutched Jenna's arm. The two of them slowly walked out of the unit to the waiting cruiser outside.

The cruiser, carrying Milo and Jenna, departed and set course for Kalmis. They sat next to each other, but neither person spoke. Milo's mind was churning with trepidation. Jenna looked like Glen, but she was not Glen – she was now Jenna. He tried to concentrate on holding down the panic that surged through him. There was a job to do, and after that, Glen would return and everything would be back to normal. He tried to hold onto that thought until the cruiser touched down in Kalmis outside his apartment.

Milo helped Jenna from the cruiser. She was still having difficulty walking, and he held her arm tightly.

'I hope you won't mind,' Jenna said, reaching down and removing her shoes. 'That's better. Arriving anywhere barefoot is not my scene, but I'm never going to make it in these heels.'

They made their way into the apartment and Jenna looked around, visibly impressed. 'So this is where you live. Do you mind if I jump a shower?'

'Not at all,' Milo said. 'I'll show you the way.'

Jenna allowed the shower's hot water to release the aches and tensions of her unfamiliar body, after which she dried herself and walked into the bedroom. Standing in front of a full-length mirror, she examined herself and was pleased with what she saw. Glen had really looked after her physical appearance. She slowly ran her hands all over her body, feeling long-lost pleasurable sensations in the process. Jenna then went into Glen's wardrobes and was amazed at the amount of clothes she found. Outside of a store, Jenna had never seen so many shoes, all in styles with which she was completely unfamiliar. All at once, she realized what she had missed during her years away. She looked longingly at the beckoning bed but knew that certain things had to take place that night.

Milo was sitting in the lounge when Jenna joined him and sat on a nearby chair. They self-consciously examined each other, not quite knowing what to say.

'I am finding this very difficult,' Milo said. 'Where shall we start?'

'I guess this is new to both of us,' Jenna said. 'Why don't you kick off? Ask me anything you want. I have a three-year head start, so I will try to bring you up to speed.'

'Okay,' Milo replied. 'First of all, tell me how you managed to travel back in time.'

'When you put it like that, it does sound strange, but the Phasewave Company had always been operating the system to capacity. It became greedy and started to overload the system until the Wave developed a kink that corrupted the time-lag computations, so instead of cancelling the time lag, the Phasewaves started to transmit data back in time. I was travelling to Vennica when the Wave eventually threw a secondary loop and ruptured, which is how I ended up inside the Kalmis Phasewave base, only four years earlier. I was no longer able to access the network, so I made my way to Unit Four, where I first entered the system years earlier, went into hibernation and waited to die.'

'That sounds incredible, but what about the others? Where are Declan and Brant?'

'I have lost all contact with them. I can only hope that they and the alien have survived and are located somewhere else.'

'Then tell me how you can help me with these fires.'

Jenna yawned. She stood up and slowly looked around the apartment. 'I'm tired and exhausted, Milo, and it is almost dark. Tomorrow, I promise I will exceed your expectations and give you everything you need to know. In the meantime, I must get some rest.' She picked up a framed photograph of Milo and Glen. 'I am so jealous of the two of you. I would give anything to be in a relationship like yours and to be living here, with you. I just want to be normal again.'

Milo felt a pang of fear, aware how vulnerable he and Glen were to Jenna's intentions and suspecting that Jenna was considering changing her mind about their arrangement.

Jenna noticed Milo's concern. 'Don't worry; you have nothing to fear. We are both destined to walk different paths in life, but I still retain a woman's feelings.'

Milo did not know what to say. He looked at her and saw Glen, but it wasn't Glen at all, it was Jenna inside Glen. How did this come about? His head started to spin.

'I am weary,' Jenna said. 'Take me to the bedroom.'

Milo took Jenna's arm and reluctantly led her to their bedroom. At the doorway, he stopped, unwilling to be alone in there with her.

Jenna climbed on the bed, lay on the covers and closed her eyes. 'I'm so tired. Come and lie next to me.'

'I cannot,' Milo said.

'Don't be such a prude. I'm not going to rape you.'

Milo hesitated, then went and lay next to Jenna on the bed.

'Hold me in your arms,' Jenna said.

'That wouldn't be right; I cannot become involved.'

Jenna's eyes started to close. 'As you wish,' she murmured.

Observing that Jenna was falling asleep, Milo overcame his objections and put his arms around her.

'Make me happy,' Jenna whispered. 'Would you deny the request of a dying woman?'

Jenna fell asleep, and her breathing became almost imperceptible. Milo held her close to him and again felt the same sadness that he had felt in the Phasewave when he tried to contact the alien. After a time, he too fell asleep.

In the morning, Milo awoke, cold and cramped, in his bed. He immediately became aware that something unthinkable had happened in the night – against all his intentions, he had made love to Jenna. The half-light of dawn was slowly creeping into the room when Milo finally confronted his fears and rolled over, expecting to find Jenna lying next to him. The bed was empty! Milo jumped up, but he was alone in the bedroom. On a table, a sheet of paper caught his eye. He picked up the paper and examined it. It was a simple line drawing of his face, relaxed in sleep. Beneath the drawing was a title, "Farewell, my gentle giant". Jenna had left, and he had lost Glen! Jenna had betrayed him! Why had he let it happen? The thought of losing Glen made him frantic with fear, and he lost the ability to reason. He was cursing himself aloud when a door opened, and Jenna returned from the balcony where she had been watching the sunrise.

Jenna looked at the picture Milo was holding. 'I'm pleased to discover that I haven't lost my skill as an artist; it's something I don't get chance to practice in my situation.'

Milo remained speechless, but Jenna laughed. 'You were thinking that I had done a runner and that you had lost Glen, weren't you?'

'Why do you say that?'

'I know of your arrangement – your agreement with Glen to kill her and destroy her body if I did not release her.'

'How could you have known that?'

'I haven't been into Glen's mind, if that's what you think. That would not be right, but when I transferred from the Phasewave into this body, it was Glen's last thought and I picked it up. I know you both have concerns, but I can now put all your fears to rest.'

Jenna took Milo by the arm and walked with him back to the bed. 'We have a lot to discuss, and afterwards, I will give Glen back her body.'

Milo remained confused, caught off balance, but he followed Jenna and lay with her on the bed, relieved that she had not left. 'You must have had a good sleep,' he said. 'You are looking a lot livelier than you were yesterday.'

Jenna smiled. 'It's more than that. I am now fully rejuvenated and can go back into the machine and live another life again.'

'I don't understand,' Milo said.

'You never do, but then Declan didn't either. Only the alien could make me whole again.'

'Are you saying that you have been in contact with the alien? How did you manage that?'

'It happened last night when we made love – the alien had been inside you all along.'

Milo started to object, but she calmed him down. 'Let me explain. You need to understand where I am coming from, so bear with me. When I gave up human form and departed Vennica with Brant, Declan, and the alien, our original intention had been to save humankind from self-destruction by creating a new human race, but we quickly realized that it would have taken far too long, and the Colonies were already building the neutron generators necessary to destroy the population of Kalmis. Instead, we decided that we would have a better chance of success if we could distribute the alien amongst prominent people on Vennica, people who were in positions to oppose the invasion, by sexual contact. That included you. You haven't forgotten that night we spent together, have you?' she gently chided. 'However, after the invasion collapsed, the alien decided that the self-destructive nature of the human race could not be changed, and it shut down all its sources on Vennica, along with the involved persons' memories of the experience. Everyone that is, except you. The alien remained out of your awareness because it had recognised the effect it was having on your relationship with Glen, but it wanted you to remember what had happened and stayed inert inside you in case you ever needed it again. When you tried to contact the alien in the Phasewave machine, the part of the alien inside you reached out to try to contact its parent body and found me, which explains the tingling sensation you had whilst holding the machine. I don't know if aliens are capable of being surprised, but it probably reacted to my situation and you sensed that emotion after you released the machine, which is why you experienced my feelings of sadness and loneliness.'

Milo was stunned. 'Why didn't the alien just make me aware of its presence or transfer into the Phasewave when I touched it? After all, it must have known that I was trying to make contact.'

'Following the abandonment of the plan to save the human race from extinction, the alien stayed with you in a passive mode only; it was only there to help you in the event of a life-threatening emergency. The alien obviously was not expecting my presence inside the machine, any more than I was expecting the alien to make contact with me. Everything happened very quickly, and then you broke the connection, but once I had established the presence of the alien, I knew it could only have been you trying to make contact because you were the only source of the alien on the planet. I then decided to expend some of my diminishing energy by contacting a cleaner through the monitor and getting her to pass a message to Glen. I knew that if I could ultimately take over Glen's body for a while, I could seduce you and receive the alien. Now, I have taken the alien from you and you are free of it forever. You have helped me, and I will be true to my word and help you.'

Jenna left the bed and returned with a pile of papers she had prepared in the night, including many memory threads. 'The cause of the fires in Southland is B-Cromite, which is unstable, and when its crystals fuse together, they release immense amounts of heat. However, the crystals have low-level magnetic properties that can be controlled with powerful electro-magnets to separate the crystals and stop the reaction. The same process can be applied at power stations where the Cromite B will provide an inexpensive and renewable form of fuel.'

'The landfill fires are mostly inaccessible; how can you control them with electro-magnets?'

'To control the outdoor fires, it is necessary to produce steel pellets shaped in the exact form of the Cromite crystals. The pellets need to be sprayed onto the fires, which will trick the Cromite crystals into trying to fuse with them, after which their reverse polarity will instead cause the Cromite crystals to separate and the fires will die down.'

Jenna handed Milo a set of diagrams. 'Here are some drawings of the necessary Cromite crystalline shape and size of the pellets and the machine you will need to manufacture to deliver them – it propels the pellets with magnetism and reverses their magnetic fields as they pass through the nozzle.'

'You have been very busy in the night,' Milo said.

'It wasn't really a problem. This is the same stuff I gave to you three years ago, that is three years ago in my time. You now need to forward these plans to your government, and after their implementation, the problem with the fires will be solved.'

Milo leafed through the plans, which were very comprehensive. 'I thank you for producing these. Assuming they do solve our problem, what will you do now?'

'I haven't a clue. I can tell you, however, that you are going to take credit for being the person who made all this possible, and for saving the planet from destruction. Afterwards, Southland will respect you and your compatriots will reward you appropriately.' Jenna laughed. 'At the very least, you will always be remembered in history as the man who rescued the Vennican red bean crop from disaster in the Colonial year 1459!'

#####  Chapter Fourteen

The interior of the Phasewave greeted Milo and Jenna with a cold and airless welcome, and Milo prayed that this would be the last time he ever entered one.

'This is where we say goodbye,' Jenna said. 'I can't thank you enough for giving me back my life, even if it does seem a bit chaotic.'

'I owe you for everything,' Milo said. 'We were really struggling to come up with a solution to the fires.'

'Actually, we should both thank Glen. She is an incredibly brave woman, and I am envious of both your lives. Now, hold me tightly while I transfer.'

Milo held Jenna for several seconds until she suddenly went limp and collapsed into his arms. Milo only just managed to catch her before she dropped to the ground. He laid her body gently on the floor. Was it now Glen, or was it still Jenna? She appeared not to be breathing, and her face was pale. Milo was starting to think something had gone wrong when she opened her eyes, blinked a few times, then turned her head and looked around the room. She struggled to get up, and Milo raised her to a sitting position.

'What happened?' Glen asked. 'Why are we in the Phasewave?'

'It's a long story,' Milo said, 'but you are safe now.' He helped Glen to her feet.

Glen took a few steps and stumbled. 'I feel dizzy,' she said.

'Can you remember anything?'

Glen shook her head. 'Weren't we talking to Jenna?'

'Yes, but it's all over now.'

Glen was still feeling light-headed when she and Milo left the Phasewave unit and slowly made their way back to their cruiser. 'I'm getting back some memories. Weren't we supposed to be doing a deal with Jenna?'

'It was nothing to be concerned about. I am so glad you are back.'

'Back? Where have I been?'

'I'll tell you when we get home.'

As they walked out of the Phasewave complex, Glen stopped and looked down at the mismatched clothes she was wearing.

'I remember now. Jenna took my body. Did she behave herself?'

'Generally speaking, she did.' Milo laughed, thankful that Glen had safely returned. 'It's a huge relief having you back. Don't worry; everything has turned out all right.'

'The fires! What happened about the fires?'

'It's all sorted,' Milo said. 'Jenna delivered on everything.'

'So, was it was worth doing?'

'Definitely, but I wouldn't like to go through that again. You and I have many things to discuss.'

'We certainly do,' Glen agreed.

Will Avery stood in the pouring rain and felt a trickle of cold water run off his uniform cap and down his neck. A brass band was playing somewhere in the background, and Will was starting to feel envious of his compatriots who no longer attended the Home Guard Remembrance services. He reminded himself that he was only there on sufferance because he was a patron, as well as a member of the Reserve. The highlight of the day was undoubtedly after the service when free drinks were served in the Officers Mess. He normally used that occasion to catch up with his old comrades and swap stories, but most of the younger members now had families and were no longer prepared to disrupt their weekends. He predicted that he would probably end up drinking on his own.

The music stopped. A senior officer made a short speech and handed Will a folded flag, which he laid on a carved tablet on top of a stone column. He stepped back from the column, stood to attention and saluted. Will remained in that position while bugles blared and rain continued to run down his neck. Then it was over. Will did a stiff about-turn, clicked his heels and headed for cover. It was the same thing every year: it always rained.

Apart from the uniformed members on parade, there were only a couple of dozen civilians attending, two of whom were women concealed beneath raincoats and hats. Will walked towards them. He could not make out their faces beneath their rain-hats, but as he walked past, one of them called out to him.

'Will?'

Will stopped. The caller pulled back the rim of her hat. It was Sam! He made his way over to the two women. 'What a surprise. What are you doing here?'

'I come every year,' Sam said. 'I didn't know you were in the Guard.'

'I'm on the reserve, although if this weather continues, I think I will soon be an ex-reserve.'

Sam turned to her companion. 'Amelia, this is Will Avery.'

Will nodded to Amelia, who acknowledged him with a frigid stare. 'Please accept my apologies for not shaking hands,' Will said, 'but I think I have just lost the use of my fingers.'

'You must be soaking wet,' Sam said.

'This happens every year. It's only recently that the Guard has given in and allowed the wearing of raincoats on the parade ground.' Will shook the water off his cap. 'As a Home Guard tradition, complimentary mulled wine is being served in the Officers Mess. Would you two ladies like to join me in a reviving drink?'

'I don't think we should,' Amelia said.

'They also lay on a log fire,' Will added.

'Why not?' Sam said. 'Come on, Amelia. Let's get out of this dreadful rain.' Without waiting for an answer, Sam took Amelia's arm and steered her down the path alongside Will.

Will took their raincoats and hung them to dry in the mess cloakroom, after which he dried his hair on a paper towel. By the time he returned to the bar, which only contained a dozen occupants, Sam had collected glasses of mulled wine for them and organised chairs around the roaring fire.

'This is more like it,' Will said. 'I am a very lucky man to be seated with the two best looking women in the room.'

Amelia looked around her. 'We are the only women here. What kind of boys' club is this?'

Will did not rise to the bait. 'There are plenty of women in the Guard, but they have more sense than to get soaked on parade every year. They generally leave that for the men.' He turned to Sam. 'What is your link to the Home Guard?'

'My father was in one of the regiments, and I always used to come to the parades as a child.'

'Is your father still active?' Will asked. 'I might know him.'

'He's over there.' Sam pointed to the side of the room.

Will looked round but could not see anyone.

'He's on the wall,' Sam explained. Will looked again and noticed a line of photographs on the wall portraying past senior members of the Guard.

'He must have been fairly prominent to make the archive,' Will said.

'I think he was a Commander,' Sam said.

'You always get it wrong,' Amelia interrupted. 'He was a Brigadier.'

Sam took Will over to the wall to show him the picture of her father. Will knew that the pictures all had one thing in common – they only portrayed dead people.

Sam lowered her voice. 'Take no notice of Amelia. She is in her catty mood today.'

'I hadn't noticed,' Will said diplomatically. 'Your father looks young to have made Brigadier. What happened to him?'

'He was flying out of Kalmis with my mother when their cruiser caught fire after take-off. It turned back and crashed short of the airport, killing everyone aboard. I come here every year to lay flowers in their memory.'

'I'm sorry to hear that. I wasn't aware. It must have been a big shock to you.'

Sam smiled. 'There are quite a few things about me you don't know.'

Sam and Will re-joined Amelia by the fire.

Amelia was looking through the day's parade programme. 'Your name is listed on the back of this,' Amelia said. 'Why is that?'

'I'm a sponsor,' Will replied.

'What does that entail?' Sam asked.

'I finance six cadetships each year. It's my way of supporting the Guard, but it does mean having to attend graduation parades. At least they take place in the summer.'

'I can see you are really into this Guard thing,' Sam said.

'I enjoy it. Would you ladies like another wine?'

'We really should be getting back,' Amelia said.

'The rain is getting worse,' Will said. 'Stay for another drink until it dies down.'

'Okay,' Sam said, ignoring Amelia's accusing stare. 'There's no point in getting soaked again.'

Will fetched another round of mulled wine, and they all sat and relaxed, basking in the heat of the fire and watching the rain run down the windows.

'What do you do for a living, Amelia?' Will asked.

'I'm an artist,' Amelia replied.

'She's a great artist,' Sam added.

'What kind of art do you do?'

'Do you know anything about art?' Amelia said.

'Not particularly, but I am looking to put a large picture on a wall. I want an original, and I have to admit that you are the first artist I have ever met. Are you busy at the moment?'

'Well, I'm contracted to reproduce a selection of ancient prints, most of which are two thousand years old. I have to use the same techniques as the original artists, even down to reproducing paint and manufacturing brushes. Some of the originals are almost transparent and crumbling to dust, so I reference them and any catalogue photos I can find. My boss needs a good original before he can produce the prints, and it is taking forever.'

'That sounds like something you could do for me, but I am looking for a picture over two metres wide.'

'That's a very big canvas. You must have a big wall to put it on. Where do you live?

Will wondered if he should avoid the question, but decided that he was unlikely to work for the government ever again. 'I live next to the marina.'

'Whereabouts on the marina?'

'On the Kalm River side.'

'Near the Bay Towers?'

'I live in one of the blocks, the taller one.'

'That's one of the best addresses in the city. Are you seriously telling me that you live there?'

'I am. It's true.'

'I don't believe you.'

Will turned to Sam. 'Help me out, will you? Tell Amelia that I live in the towers.'

'I thought you lived near Shuttleport,' Sam said.

Will laughed as he remembered that he had not told Sam about his other apartment. 'Why will nobody believe me?' He pulled out a hundred dollar note and laid it on the table. 'I bet you one hundred dollars that I live in the towers.'

'You're on,' Amelia said.

Will drove his auto, with Amelia and Sam in the back seats, along the side of the harbour.

'Have you bought a new auto?' Sam asked. 'This isn't the one you used to drive to work.'

'I have two autos – this one is for best.' Will slowed down as they skirted round the marina and approached the two enormous tower blocks. 'Now, I wonder how you get into this place.'

Amelia and Sam exchanged glances. Amelia had a smirk on her face.

Will missed the entrance, and then had to carry out a tight turn to regain the access lane.

'I think we have just made a hundred dollars,' Amelia whispered to Sam.

Sam was feeling uncomfortable. Amelia had put Will on the defensive and he was now going to make a fool of himself. She hated situations like this.

Will stopped short of a steel-shuttered door leading to the underground parking area. 'What happens now?' he muttered to himself.

'We call a cab,' Sam said, reaching for the door handle.'

'Just a moment,' Will said. He operated a pendant and the door wound up into the roof space. Will drove through and descended to the lower floor, where he pulled into a space next to an older, somewhat battered auto. They all got out of the vehicle.

Sam examined the vehicle parked next to them. 'This is your old auto.'

'I told you that I had two.' Will said. 'Come this way.'

Will led the way through the park to a small lift in the corner of a wall. The three of them squeezed inside.

'This is a service lift,' Amelia complained. 'What's wrong with the main lift?'

Will smiled and said nothing. He closed the door and the lift silently accelerated upwards.

Sam was confused. The lift felt motionless but her ears were popping, so she knew that they were rapidly climbing. The lift finally stopped and its doors opened, revealing yet another door. Will unlocked the inner door and they walked straight into the lounge of a huge apartment.

Sam and Amelia stopped and looked around in amazement.

Sam turned to Will. 'Level with me – do you really live here, or is this a joke?'

Will laughed as he observed the looks on their faces. 'Yes. I really do live here. Would you like to look around? I still have a small supply of red beans; can I make you a coffee?'

Will went into the kitchen area and switched on his coffee maker.

Amelia turned to Sam. 'Did you know about this?' she whispered accusingly.

Sam shook her head. 'I had no idea, but it looks fabulous. It must be costing him a fortune.'

Amelia walked around the room, checking out the furnishings. 'These are quality items. I have to admit that I am impressed.'

Will returned with three coffees and they spread out in the luxurious armchairs.

'I'm puzzled,' Sam said. 'I distinctly remember you telling me that you lived near the airport.'

'I used to have a small apartment there, but I only kept it because it was a convenient address.'

'Why did you need that?'

'You probably won't believe me, but I am a private person, and I didn't want any of the other agents to know about this place.'

'Why not? Are you hiding something?'

'I run my own investment business from here, and I don't want to have to start explaining everything I do to a bunch of nosey agents.'

'The rent on this place must cost you a fortune,' Sam commented.

'Actually, I own it,' Will said. 'I've got rid of the old apartment and now live here full time.'

'Where is your partner, Celia?'

'We're having a break,' Will said. 'Celia is still finding it hard to get used to living here. Everyone in this building keeps to themselves, and I don't know any of the other residents. The isolation is what I like most about living here, but Celia keeps hankering after her old haunts. It's fair to say that our relationship is struggling.'

'I can't believe what I'm seeing,' Sam said. 'This place is so big.'

'It's the penthouse, and it covers the whole floor. In addition to the main entrance, it also has its own discreet lift, which we came up in, that allows you to come and go without being observed.'

Will took away the coffee cups and returned with a bottle of champagne and three glasses. He poured them all a glass. 'This is imported, so it should be okay, although I have no idea where it is imported from.'

Amelia sampled her champagne. 'This is very good,' she said.

'Let me show you where I want my picture.' Will took Amelia over to an empty wall adjoining the balcony. 'I was thinking of sympathetic colours to match the rest of the furnishings, but after that I have no ideas and would leave the choice of content to the artist. Would you be interested?'

Amelia checked out the wall. 'I would, but I don't have my own studio. I don't think I can produce anything this size.'

'You can paint it in here if you want to, or there are three unused bedrooms you could use. I'll pay you up front, so you won't be out of pocket.'

Sam sat and watched Will talking to Amelia and was pleased that they were getting along together. They re-joined Sam in the lounge.

Will looked at the time and checked the weather outside. 'If we're lucky, we might see a sunset today and be able drink a toast to it.' He refilled the champagne glasses.

'Do you have any facilities in this block?' Sam asked.

'There's a gymnasium in the basement and a pool somewhere, which I never use.'

'Why is that?'

'I don't like people looking at me.'

Sam laughed. 'Don't tell me that Will Avery is shy.'

'I'm not shy, but I have a couple of bullet holes in my body that I don't want to put on display.'

Both women burst out laughing.

'I don't believe you,' Sam said.

'Prove it,' Amelia said. 'Take your shirt off.'

'Okay, you've asked for it,' Will said. He stood up and removed his shirt, revealing a puckered entry scar in his back and a hideous exit wound on his right lower chest.

Sam gasped when she saw the wounds. 'What happened to you?'

'I would like to say that I was shot in combat, but this actually happened on a firing range. It was purely accidental, but I was lucky because the rifle was loaded with target rounds.'

Amelia took a closer look at Will's torso, particularly the messy exit wound. 'Your shoulder seems to be healing well, but this bullet wound shouldn't have been allowed to get into such a state.'

'The wound became infected with bits of broken rib and took ages to heal. I have to explain that military hospitals are somewhat basic in their medical techniques.'

'With surgery, that would disappear.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Amelia always wanted to be a doctor,' Sam said. 'She knows all about this kind of thing.'

'Some mesh and a skin graft and you'll be as good as new,' Amelia said. 'I can recommend a good surgeon.'

'You women never cease to amaze me,' Will said.

Just then, the light changed and a shaft of orange sunlight filled the lounge.

'Quick,' Will said. 'We're going to get a sunset – bring your drinks.' He went to the balcony doors, which opened automatically, allowing the three of them to walk out onto a rain-soaked glass balcony. They stood and stared at the glowing orb of the setting sun that had appeared through a split in the leaden sky and was sending shafts of horizontal light to illuminate the clouds from below.

Sam looked up at the black and orange clouds that were passing over her head, seemingly almost within arms' reach, and suddenly realized how high up they were. She involuntarily looked down through the glass at the sheer drop beneath her feet, but the sight made her feel giddy and she started to sway. Will caught her arm and steadied her. Amelia cautiously approached the balcony rail and peered over. Will and Sam locked eyes. Sam felt his hand squeezing her arm. Then they both looked away. Amelia backed from the rail and Will released Sam's arm. The sun seemed to spread horizontally as it dropped below the horizon, and the light changed colour to a dull red glow.

The three of them stood and watched the light fade, and Will called a toast to the sunset. They drank their champagne, and then Sam turned and looked back at the apartment, only to see the reflections of the three of them in the glass façade. Amelia and her standing either side of Will, his damaged body naked from the waist up, ranked in silhouette against the remains of a decaying sun while a raft of what looked like molten rock slowly rolled over their heads. While she was looking, the automatic lights inside the apartment illuminated and the whole picture suddenly disappeared. Sam thought it a surreal ending to what had turned out to be an equally surreal day.

#####  Chapter Fifteen

'Don't forget, we are due out in two hours; John and Cate Harris are picking us up.' Milo hastily emptied two weeks of laundry and belongings from his cases onto the bed and started retrieving essential items from the pile. He had just returned from a hectic visit to Southland, where he had confirmed that the landfill fires were finally under control and being extinguished.

Glen sat on a chair, watching him. 'Can't we give this dinner a miss?' she said. 'I haven't spent any time with you since you got bogged down with those fires.'

'I'm sorry about that, but this is the biggest social event of the year,' Milo explained. 'I have to be there to act like the proud recipient of a medal, which by rights should actually belong to Jenna for all the help she gave us. Not that I can tell anyone about that.'

'But I'm just not feeling myself today,' Glen protested.

'That's because you have spent two weeks alone in this apartment. Now, it's party time – this is a state dinner.'

Glen sighed. 'If you insist. I'll go and get ready.'

'I'm surprised you haven't treated yourself to a new outfit. It's not like you to miss out on an opportunity like that,' Milo said.

'I haven't had chance, and I've got plenty of clothes to wear.'

'Can I have that in writing?' Milo stripped and went into the shower. Whilst relaxing under the spray of hot water, he tried to recall the words to his acceptance speech, which he kept forgetting. He was also concerned about Glen, who appeared to be depressed, but she had been through a traumatic experience, and he had been forced to abandon her immediately after she swapped places with Jenna. He should have stayed with her after her ordeal, but events dictated otherwise, and he ended up being sent to Southland. After what she had volunteered to do, Glen deserved his undivided attention, and he was determined to make it up to her.

When Milo and Glen later met up before their ride was due to arrive, Milo was surprised to find that Glen was wearing an old dress that she had not worn for years, and she had merely scraped her hair back and tied it in a knot. Milo did not know what to say. Attempting to be tactful, he finally told her, 'I don't think that dress is quite right for tonight's occasion.'

'Why not,' Glen asked. 'I like it.'

'This is a very formal affair,' Milo said. 'John Harris will be wearing his General's uniform and Cate will be carrying half a jewellery store. What's wrong with that black dress you bought for the last formal dinner we went to?'

Glen reluctantly went back to her dressing room to change, and emerged in a black dress. Milo was about to point out that it was not the dress he had referred to when the Harrises arrived, and they all became caught up in a round of enthusiastic greetings. Milo noted that, as predicted, Cate looked a million dollars, which was probably the value of the jewellery she was wearing. After exchanging greetings, Milo suggested a quick drink before they left, but after a short discussion about timing, they abandoned that idea, and the four of them climbed into the official limo waiting outside and headed for the ceremonial banqueting hall in Government House.

Following the meal, Milo received his medal and managed to give his acceptance speech without referring to his notes. He then wended his way through the packed banqueting hall to applause from the other attendees. On the way across the room, he was stopped on numerous occasions to be congratulated before reaching his table, where he took a seat next to Glen, relieved that he had not fluffed his speech and that the ceremony for him was over. He handed Glen the box containing the medal that the President had just presented to him.

'Everyone wants to be my friend tonight,' he whispered.

Glen opened the box and admired the medal. 'Well done. The crowd seems to approve; you deserve this.'

Milo heaved a sigh of relief. 'I think Jenna would have approved.'

'I'm sure she would have,' Glen said. 'Shall I put this in my bag for safekeeping?'

'Yes, but don't lose it. If I ever meet Jenna again, she might ask to see it.'

Glen smiled, and Milo relaxed and turned his mind to other things: he was becoming concerned about Glen.

Glen was sitting at the table between Milo and John, but Milo was embarrassed because Glen had hardly spoken to John all evening and had completely ignored Cate, even though they all normally got on well together. She had also hardly touched her wine, which she usually enjoyed. Milo thought that Glen might be coming down with an illness and perhaps should see a doctor. It had obviously been a mistake to rush out so soon after his late arrival in Kalmis, but the ceremony had been planned down to the last detail, and even though he did not want the medal, he could hardly have turned it down. The government had certain protocols about such things.

Milo again looked at Glen. At these events, she would always be up there with the best-dressed women, but tonight she looked as though she had not made much effort with her wardrobe and somehow looked rather drab. He then noticed that she was not wearing her diamond eternity ring, which she never normally took off. He had given her the ring when they finally became partners.

A holiday was what they needed, Milo decided, just the two of them. They could relax and spend time together getting to know each other again after the events of the last few months. The after-dinner speaker, Ross Wiley, rose to his feet and made a rambling speech. Ross was a Kalmis property developer who had made a fortune out of building offices, which nobody wanted, and then persuading his friends in the government to rent them. Milo found his thoughts drifting to subjects other than Wiley's speech, then looked sideways at Glen and found her doodling on a napkin. She was producing a simple line drawing of the speaker's face. For a moment, Milo's mind went blank and he looked away, uncertain of what he had just observed. Then he redirected his attention to Glen and started to watch her with renewed interest.

Will Avery was sitting outside on his balcony in the dark, enjoying a whiskey and thinking through the various events that had recently changed his lifestyle. He had heard on the news that the fires in Southland no longer posed a threat and that the government was now planning to modify existing power stations to convert the Cromite crystals into renewable energy. Milo was nothing if not efficient, he thought, but not long ago he had been at his wit's end and then had suddenly come up with an encompassing solution to the problem. It had happened exactly the same way during the Colonial invasion. At least Will was one of the few people who knew how he had accomplished that trick. It was a pity that he and Milo had parted ways, because he had enjoyed Glen's company. Celia had finally moved out, and he had concluded that from now on he would be living on his own, with nowhere to go and not much to do to occupy his time.

He returned inside his apartment and instantly remembered the unforgettable afternoon he had spent there with Amelia and Sam. It had been like a dream – alone and half-dressed with two beautiful women who were checking out the bullet holes in his body whilst drinking champagne. He could not have made it up.

Will's messager rang. He checked the screen, but the caller had withheld their identity. It was ominous, he thought. Why would anyone want to do that? Out of curiosity, he accepted the call.

'Hi, it's Sam. Is this a bad time?'

The call was unexpected and surprising. Repressed memories cascaded into Will's consciousness, and he immediately recalled their farewell kiss and their eyes locked together on his balcony. For a moment, he did not know how to respond. 'No. No. No, you're not disturbing me,' he stammered.

'Only I was worried about Celia answering. I didn't want to get you into trouble.'

'It's okay,' Will replied. 'Celia has left me for good.'

'Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.'

'It was inevitable. She took the standard Avery escape route: she packed her bags and fled.' Will laughed nervously. 'That's enough of my problems. It's good to hear from you again. What are you up to?'

'I've finished with Milo. I'm back working for Security.'

'Are they looking after you?'

'Kind of. I don't think they can figure me out.'

'Neither could I.' There was a short silence, and then the words came blurting out. 'I miss you.' Will cursed. Where had that come from?

There was another silence. He had spoken too soon. Why couldn't he keep his big mouth shut?

'I miss you too.'

Relief flooded through him. She was still listening. He went for broke. 'Perhaps we could hook up some time. I mean, only if you want to.'

'That would be nice.'

The soft sound of Sam's voice was drawing him in like a magnet. 'There are so many things I want to tell you,' he said.

'I would like to hear them. Maybe you could show me one of those lively bars you talked about.'

'I know of a really nice place on the Marina. When are you free?'

'When were you thinking of?'

'How about now?'

There was a long pause. He had rushed it, and she was about to back out. Will's excitement started to evaporate. Sam had a partner; she wasn't going to risk losing her.

'That might be a problem.'

'I understand.' She was delicately giving him the brush-off. He tried not to let the disappointment show in his voice.

'But I can make it tomorrow.'

Will's excitement returned. 'Are you sure? I don't want to cause any difficulties for you.'

'I'm sure. I just need to change some arrangements. I'll give you a call tomorrow afternoon.'

'I'm looking forward to our meeting.'

'So am I.'

The rest of that evening, Will floated around his apartment, as if on a cloud, attempting to control his feelings about the impending meeting with Sam. He tried to work out why she was different from the other women in his life. After the attack on them, Sam's workmates had given her flowers, and even though she was leaving to work for Milo, she had written a note of thanks to everyone in the Department and said goodbye to them. That was Sam for you; he would never have thought of doing that. Sam instinctively knew the right thing to do, and always carried it through. They appeared to operate at different ends of the social scale, which, he thought, might possibly form the basis of a lasting relationship.

As he prepared for bed, Will was still pondering his future when he felt his head starting to tingle, announcing the arrival of some future information. He quickly found a notepad and pen. The signal was strong, which usually indicated that the event was from the near future. Images flashed before his eyes. It was dark, and unidentifiable wreckage, surrounded by emergency vehicles, was burning on the side of a road beneath a cliff. The headlines came through, and Will started writing them down: The Vennican Cultural Ambassador, Glen Sommers, was tonight killed in an auto accident on Highway Two outside Kalmis City. No other vehicles were involved. Police are seeking ....

Will slowly put down his pen and stared in horror at the writing on his pad. Glen was going to die! What the hell was that about?

#####  VOLUME THREE – PHASEWAVE - TRANSITION

#####  Chapter One

Colonial year 1460 – Kalmis City, Planet Vennica

Cara laid down her notepad and observed Milo, who was sitting on the opposite side of his desk, staring out of the window. After hearing so much about him, she was disappointed to see him in the flesh; he looked tired and unwell, and was not as tall as she had expected. She wondered how he was managing to cope with the demands of his job as Defence Secretary. 'Are you alright?' she enquired.

Milo started. 'Sorry,' he said. 'You must forgive me. I have a lot of things on my mind at the moment.' He turned his attention back to the young journalist who was patiently waiting to finish interviewing him. She was so charged with energy that he could almost feel it flowing across the desk in waves. 'I'm sorry. What was your name again?'

'Cara. Cara Wilson. I don't want to take up any more of your valuable time, and I now have nearly everything I want. My magazine, Ideas World, will be publishing your story at the end of this month and your photo will be on the magazine's cover. I bet you are looking forward to seeing it in circulation.'

Being in the presence of Cara's youth and enthusiasm made Milo aware of his age, and he wondered if he had been so lively at her stage in life. 'I hope you will forgive me when I say that I rarely read a magazine,' he said, 'especially the kind with my picture on the front. I still think you are making a mistake highlighting me; I was only doing my job.'

'You are far too modest,' Cara said. 'After tackling the fires in Southland, you are the man everyone is talking about. You saved the planet from being destroyed by pollution.'

'It wasn't just me,' Milo said. 'Many people were involved, and they all deserve the credit.'

'I'll come back to that later if I may,' Cara said. 'Before I leave, on behalf of my magazine and all its readers, I offer our sincere condolences on the loss of your partner, Glen. I would also like to thank you for spending your time with me being interviewed. I know you are a very busy man and feel guilty disturbing your routine.'

'That is very kind of you. Not many people get past my aide, Margaret, but after your determined efforts, I think you deserve something in return.'

Cara smiled appreciatively. She had spent weeks tracking down the Defence Secretary, and now it was payday. She continued, 'Of special interest is the fact that you are the first living person to receive a Distinguished Civic Award.'

Despite his apprehension at being interviewed, Milo had to smile. 'I like your use of the word "living".'

'I meant no offence, but all the previous awards have been awarded posthumously.'

'And yet here I am, as large as life. Is there anything else I can help you with while you are here?'

'There is one thing. My readers will obviously be interested in you and your time working as an investigator and eventually ending up as President, but what I would like to know is exactly how you arrived at the solution to those problem fires in Southland.'

'It was an intense time,' Milo guardedly replied. 'As I said, a team of people, which included scientists, engineers and investigators, was involved. Many ideas were proposed and evaluated, but the main thing is that we managed to produce a solution that worked and was able to control the fires. I have to add that a degree of luck played its part in that discovery.'

'Who first thought of a machine that would spray dummy crystals onto the fires?'

'I cannot remember.'

'Well, you must have known who was working on it.'

'A whole raft of solutions was proposed by different people,' Milo explained. 'The one we adopted just turned out to be the right answer. When I was presented with that award, I made it clear that I was accepting it on behalf of the whole team. I actually played a fairly insignificant part in what happened.'

'Somebody must have designed and built the machines. After all ...,' Cara glanced at her interview notes, '... the idea of spraying reversed polarity replica crystals into the fires through a magnetic induction nozzle isn't something you come across every day.'

'Why are you so concerned about one person?' Milo asked. 'Shouldn't you be looking at the bigger picture?'

'Without those machines, the fires would still be burning, and the person who invented them is instrumental in saving the planet. Hopefully, next month's magazine celebrity story is going to be about that person, but without an identity, I will have nobody to interview. All I'm asking for is a name.'

Milo sighed. 'I genuinely do not know who first came up with the idea.'

'Please,' Cara said. 'It will really help if I can interview that person and tell the story of how the machines came into existence. Our readers love that kind of thing. Did the inventor get a medal or anything? Was it a scientist?'

'No is the answer to both those questions.'

'Can you give me the names of your team members? I am prepared to interview all of them.'

'You must believe me when I say that I simply cannot recall their names.'

Cara laughed. 'I promise you that if you give me just one name, I will stop chasing you.'

Milo shook his head.

'Just one little name. It would mean so much to me. Please. My boss will roast me if I come back empty handed.'

Milo looked at Cara and knew that he would have no peace until she had a name. He tried to think of someone he could use, someone she was unlikely to be able to find. 'I have just membered. It was Will Avery. Yes. His name is Will Avery.'

Cara frowned. 'That name rings a bell. Why do I know him?'

'He used to be an agent working for the Security Service.'

'That's it! He was the guy who bashed the lawyer in court. Was he a scientist or an engineer?'

'To the best of my knowledge, he was neither.'

'Are you telling me that an investigator, who wasn't even an engineer or a scientist, invented the incredible machines that saved Vennica from destruction?'

'I suppose I am, but I must advise you that Will no longer works for the government, and he is an intensely private person who avoids publicity at all costs. I don't think you should approach him.'

'What a story – from lawyer-basher to planet-saver! This guy Will is definitely going to feature in my magazine.'

'My advice is to stay well away from him,' Milo added.

Cara packed up her case. 'I have enough material to work on for now, so I won't take up any more of your time. Thank you so much for talking to me.'

'Remember what I said: Will won't thank you for approaching him.'

Cara was wearing a big smile when she stood up to leave. 'Don't worry; Cara always gets her man, in the nicest possible way, of course.'

Margaret later entered Milo's office and found him staring out of the window. She stood, un-noticed, and watched him in silence. Almost overnight, he had become a shadow of his former self and was no longer the man she had once worked for – Glen's death had somehow turned him into a different person. What had happened to the tall, imposing figure of a man with long arms and big hands who never knew the meaning of fear? She finally broke the silence. 'How did the grilling go?'

Milo abruptly emerged from his reverie, surprised to find Margaret in the room with him. 'So and so,' he replied. 'You know what young people are like.'

'You should have listened to me and left it to PR – dealing with the media behind closed doors is a guaranteed recipe for disaster.'

'I must be getting soft in my old age, but she was writing an article about me, and I thought it would be churlish to refuse. I also had to approve the picture of me that is going to be on the magazine cover. I look pretty good, by the way.'

'She looked pretty good, as well. Don't get taken in by those long legs and blonde hair. Did she get what she wanted?'

'All she did was to make me feel ancient. I'm still trying to think what I was doing at her age, but I can't remember.'

'You look worn out,' Margaret said. 'Why don't you take a break and go home early? I'll cover for you.'

'I guess you're right,' Milo reluctantly conceded. 'I think I've had enough for today, but contact me if anything comes up while I'm out.'

'Don't worry, Milo,' Margaret said. 'The world isn't going to end on your afternoon off.'

After Milo had left his office, Margaret went inside to tidy up and lock the cabinets. She walked to the window and looked out, wondering what went through Milo's mind during his long periods spent staring outside. As she stood, a flock of white karakas swooped down over the building and headed for the central park to pester visitors for food. If Milo didn't shake himself up, she thought, he would soon be stood down; rumours of his unpredictable behaviour were already floating around the offices. She cast her mind back and worked out that during nearly 30 years of government service she had served four Ministers, two Secretaries and two Presidents. Now, unless Milo soon came back on line, it looked like she would be adding another to the list. The thought did not appeal to her. She walked over to Milo's desk and pulled his overflowing work tray to a more prominent position on the desk in the hope that it would prompt him to action the growing stack of outstanding correspondence. A card lay on the desktop. She picked it up and looked at the name that was printed on it. 'Cara Wilson working for New Ideas,' she read out, and then added, 'also known as Miss-Chief.' The girl had trouble stamped all over her face. Margaret mentally noted the name and decided that she would ask Security to run a background check on her. Milo needed all the help he could get.

Margaret went back into her office and locked her door, before returning to Milo's office and locking his outside door. Once she was certain that no-one could observe her, she sorted through the outstanding correspondence and pulled out a handful of routine returns. She then sat at Milo's desk, took out his seal and ink pen and signed them all with Milo's signature. She sat back and admired her handiwork, deciding that her forged signatures were now looking more authentic than Milo's, which had recently become a bit scrappy. She put the processed correspondence on one side to take to her office and thought back to her previous government employment and the many different signatures she had copied over the years. It was too many, she decided, but as she left the office, the thought occurred to her that if she did lose her job, she could at least produce an impressive array of testimonials for the next one.

Later that day, Milo sat in his empty apartment, and looked around the lifeless rooms, everywhere seeing reminders of Glen, his soulmate, who was missing, never to return. An overwhelming feeling of sadness descended upon him. Every noise, shadow or movement caught his attention, and he would turn, half expecting to find Glen standing beside him, just as it always had been. But he knew it could never be the same again, and asked himself how many times would he have to go through this, walking into a room full of memories, knowing that nothing he could ever do was going to change what had happened. He thought back to the days when he and Glen lived in those rooms, speaking, arguing and laughing and planning to spend the end of their days together in a country hideaway, far from the city. He became despondent. Life was slipping by, but there was no going back, and it appeared that there was no way forward. He finally accepted what he had always known: that he no longer wanted to be part of a life without Glen. He thought of Glen's burnt and broken remains lying in a frigid vault on a hillside overlooking Kalmis, her only companions now the forgotten memories of the graveyard. Tonight he would go up there, as he did every day, only to say a final farewell, but there were some loose ends to tidy up before the sorry affair would be put to rest. He put his jacket on and left the apartment to drive down to the Marina.

Sam Sergeant scrubbed furiously at a stain on a cabinet door, conscious of the growing pile of rubbish bags growing next to her on the floor as she systematically cleared out the cupboards in Will's kitchen. She was both frustrated and nervous because she was unable to make contact with Will, and they were both supposed to be going shopping on her first afternoon off work since she had returned to the Security Service. Where was he? Will was not answering his messager, something that had never happened before. Was he in trouble with some of his gambling colleagues? She tried not to think the worst and concentrated on her cleaning until the external door opened, and Will walked in.

'Where have you been?' Sam cried. 'I've been trying to get hold of you all afternoon; we were supposed to be going out.'

Will slumped wearily into an armchair. 'I'm knackered. I'll tell you all about my day later. On the other hand, grab me a cold beer and I'll tell you about it right now.'

Sam left the room, relieved to find that Will had not been involved in an accident. She returned with a bottle of beer from the fridge, handed it to Will and sat in a chair next to him.

Will cracked the bottle and sank half of it. 'That's good,' he said. He wiped his mouth. 'I've just spent six hours with my lawyer and new accountant.'

'You have a new accountant? What happened to your regular accountant?'

'I sacked him,' Will said. 'Thanks to him, I am now being investigated by the Financial Regulators.' Will drained the beer and placed the empty bottle on a table.

'How did all this happen?' Sam asked.

'I always knew that they would get hold of me one day, which is why I went to great lengths to make sure that my affairs are in order.'

'Has somebody made a complaint about you?'

'No. My previous accountant went on holiday and a left a junior member of his staff to submit a return. He made an error, and the authority picked it up and decided to investigate.'

'Are you sure somebody from the Security Services didn't make a complaint about you? Everyone at work knows that we are living together.'

'That did cross my mind when I first heard about the investigation. I had expected to receive some flak from the Department after I left, but they were definitely not involved. I spent most of the day briefing my new accountant. It took forever.'

'Seriously, Will. Are you in trouble?'

'It depends on how deep they want to dig. Everything I have done is legitimate, but an audit will be time-consuming.'

'Let me ask this another way,' Sam said. 'If you were on the other side doing the audit, what would you think?'

'Hmmm. I guess I would immediately suspect that the profits came from insider trading. That isn't to say the regulators would think the same way; these exercises appear to be war of attrition – last one standing wins. The bank has already advised me that the regulators are seeking legal access to my accounts, but I have a good lawyer, so there is no need for you to be worried.'

'What would be the worst case scenario?'

'I think I could be looking at a fine.'

'Why would you be fined if you have not broken the law?'

'If the regulators can't come up with anything, they will usually accept a voluntary fine to close the case without any admission of wrongdoing. If that happens, I will pay the fine and they will leave me alone. I'm not going to lose any sleep over it. While you're here, can you take a look at something for me?' Will stood up and started to unbutton his shirt.

'Is this some kind of sneak preview?' Sam asked. 'Isn't it a bit early to be heading for the bedroom?'

'Don't tempt me.' Will laughed and slipped off his shirt. 'My surgery scars have started to itch. Can you look at them?''

Sam examined the stitches on Will's chest and back. 'This all looks good. The itching is probably a sign that the wound is healing. You can hardly see now where the bullet went through you, but I'll put on a dressing if you want.'

'That won't be necessary,' Will said. 'I just wanted to make sure the stitches had not come undone.'

'Try not to scratch them. Now you have had the surgery, you look quite normal.'

'I have Amelia to thank for that. If she had not suggested having it done, I never would have bothered.'

'What you really need,' Sam said, 'is a large tattoo around your body that would combine all your stab wounds and bullet holes.'

'Why do I get the impression that you are going to suggest that Amelia designs one for me? I'll think about that while I clean up and take a shower.'

Sam was examining the picture that Amelia had painted for Will when he joined her after changing his clothes. 'Are you still pleased with this?' she asked.

Will walked up to where the massive painting filled a wall. 'I will be when it's finished, but Amelia is doing a great job. What do you think?'

'I love it.'

'I can't believe these brush strokes,' Will said. 'They really make it look like a two thousand year old painting'

'Amelia wasn't happy with her first attempts, so she manufactured her own brushes and paints. I think she did well.'

'As a matter of interest, where is Amelia nowadays?'

'She's working out in Montgomery, painting a mural for a cathedral. She feels bad about being dragged away but felt that she couldn't let her company down. I know Amelia – she will definitely come back to finish it off.'

'There is no urgency. In fact, I think that the unfinished bit makes the painting look even older than she intended.' For the first time, Will noticed the neat row of rubbish bags lined up in the kitchen area. 'Have you been through my liquor cabinet?' he asked incredulously.

'Everything but,' Sam said. 'Seriously, you need to clean your cupboards more often; some of these things are years out of date.'

A glass jar caught Will's attention. He lifted it out of a bag and held it to the light in order to examine its contents.

'Don't take the lid off indoors,' Sam said. 'You could exterminate the residents of this building.'

'Fortunately I'm on a diet that doesn't allow me to eat anything green, yellow or, er ... black today.'

'In that case, it might be worth a try. I think I can guarantee that that you will lose weight if you swallow any of that stuff, probably within minutes. I don't know where to take these bags for disposal.'

Will dropped the jar back into its sack. 'There's a recycling plant on the lower floor. I'll take these bags down to my basement storage area tonight and dispose of them in the morning.' He observed a stack of files on a coffee table. 'Is this more of your spring-cleaning?'

'I spent the whole afternoon spring cleaning,' Sam said accusingly, 'while I was waiting to go out with you.'

'Sorry about that, but I genuinely could not get away from the meeting. My lawyer is so paranoid that he put a block on our messagers and I couldn't make a call.'

'You're forgiven. Now, I brought these files from the office after I finished working for Milo,' Sam said. 'The Security Service wasn't interested, and Milo had shut down the investigation, so I didn't know what else to do with them. I left them out because there's something in here I want to show you.'

'Before we start,' Will said, with a grin. 'I have to inform you that you have competition.'

Sam was puzzled. 'What is this about?'

'I've got a stalker. She's young, blonde and good-looking, with legs up to her armpits. She really came onto me.'

Sam was mildly amused. 'Does she need an eye test?'

'You wish. She collared me in the parking area when I arrived home tonight. Her name is Cara Wilson, and she is a reporter for a magazine called Ideas World. Earlier today, she interviewed Milo, who apparently is the main subject of this month's issue, and during that interview, Milo told her that I was the person who invented the machines that sprayed the dummy crystals onto the Cromite. It came as a complete surprise to me, because I have never set eyes on those machines.'

'Did you explain that to her?'

'No, and she now wants to take me out to lunch. I don't know how she managed to get inside the complex; she seems to be a very determined young lady.'

'If you decide to go down that route, I think you should come clean,' Sam said. 'It sounds like she could get you into trouble.'

'According to my new friend Cara, I am to be the subject of next month's magazine, and she wants to write an article about me. She actually thinks I am the real hero of the fires and should be awarded a medal for inventing the machine that put them out. I had to agree with her, of course.'

'I can't think why Milo would have given her your name.'

'Only Milo can answer that,' Will said. 'There's no way he could have revealed the true story behind those fires. We were on the case, and even we don't know what actually happened.'

'Do you think he involved that alien?'

'That would be my first pick, but I haven't yet worked out how his alien suddenly turned up on the scene or what part it played in producing those machines. I doubt if I would know an alien if I met one.'

'Well, I hope you don't bring up that particular subject with your stalker; journalists have a way of putting their own spin onto things. She definitely won't be impressed when she finds out afterwards that you didn't have anything to do with putting out the fires.'

'I'm not that desperate for a free lunch. Now, what were you going to show me?'

'I spent the afternoon filing and packing the old reports we received on the Cromite, but there is one which is causing me some concern.'

'You are the queen of filing; what is your problem?'

'All the analyses of Cromite came back as inconclusive,' Sam said. 'After a superficial examination, none of the scientists could establish what it was, and they showed a complete lack of interest in going any further, which I can understand after seeing the destruction they are capable of producing. However, one report came in late, and it was different from the others.'

'In what way was it different?'

'The report was very detailed and concluded that the substance was more likely to be organic than crystalline. It particularly focussed on the fact that after the crystals split into two, the first thing the parts did when exposed to light was to revert to their original shape, which would indicate that the crystals possessed a memory that was inherent in the individual parts.'

'That's intriguing,' Will said. 'Can I see this report?' Will studied Sam's face as she shuffled through the folders on the table. She was beautiful, even when she was being serious. As always on such occasions, he once again thanked the strange quirk of fate that had allowed him the privilege of meeting the person he now believed to be his soul mate. After two months living together, they had never had an argument and existed together in a harmonious relationship. He considered himself a very fortunate man; maybe this time it would turn out to be a lasting arrangement. He found himself smiling at the thought.

'Are you going to let me in on your joke?' Sam asked, catching him staring at her.

'It was nothing,' Will said. 'Actually, I was considering sending you back to the bar for another beer.'

Sam handed Will a file. 'Normally, I would say you were dreaming,' she light-heartedly replied, 'but seeing as you are home in one piece, I will make an exception on this occasion.' She went over to the bar again and returned with another beer.

Will quickly glanced through the file. 'I see what you mean. It appears that although the crystals could be split into identical halves by compression, the function was already pre-programmed to take place. The definition of natural design, whatever that might be, points to a reproduction process not shared with any known minerals or crystals. It also mentions photosynthesis, quantum qualities, electron spin and the laws of probability, which don't mean much to me. The conclusion is that the Cromite is probably organic in origin. What exactly are these things?'

'I don't know; the report makes them sound more like plants than minerals. It came in after the fires had started to die down, so I didn't pay it too much attention.'

'I'll take another look tomorrow,' Will said. 'To satisfy my own curiosity, I would still like to find out where the Cromite originated.'

'Well, it certainly didn't come from these parts,' Sam said.

'I guess we'll probably never know where those strange things came from.' Will sat back on the sofa. 'Returning to Amelia, she seems to know a lot about medical matters. Do you think she would be interested in taking up a career in medicine?'

'I think she would give her right arm for an opportunity like that, but there is no way she could afford the training costs. Why do you ask?

'First of all, I want to tell you that I have decided to pull out of the Homeland Reserve.'

'I thought you enjoyed your involvement,' Sam said.

'I used to, but each year fewer members turn out for the services, and I find myself attending events where I don't actually know anybody.'

'Will you do anything in its place?'

'At the moment, I sponsor six cadetships a year, which I will cancel when I leave the Reserve. I still like the idea of paying something back into society, and it occurred to me that I might put that money to better use. Although Amelia is a good artist, she is always going to find it difficult to make a living in that field. What would your thoughts be if I offered her financial assistance to go through medical school and train to be a doctor?'

'That is an extremely generous offer, Will, but all that training would cost a fortune.'

'It would only be the same as I am spending sponsoring cadets. It was just an idea, and I feel as if I owe Amelia something for stealing you away from her.'

'Amelia has come to terms with our arrangement, and we are still best friends, so you shouldn't feel the need to make amends. Your offer is exceptional, but I am not sure how Amelia would feel about accepting it. She can be very stubborn at times.'

'Would you be willing to approach her on my behalf?'

'Of course I would. I am due to have lunch with her this week, so I will ask her then.'

'But do you think it is a good idea?'

'I certainly do, and I think Amelia would be far better off in financial terms as a doctor than if she stayed working as an artist. It would definitely be just up her street. All I have to do now is work out how to bring her on board.'

The reception bell chimed, and Will went into the hall to answer the call. When he returned, he looked disturbed.

'What's happening?' Sam asked.

'Someone is coming up to visit us.'

'Who?'

'It's Milo!'

#####  Chapter Two

'Milo looked terrible on the security camera,' Will said. 'He is so old and haggard that I hardly recognized him.'

'He must have taken Glen's death badly,' Sam said. 'They were very close.'

'Well, Milo didn't cut me any slack when I was trying to help him, so he won't get much in the way of sympathy from me.'

'Be kind to him. We don't know why he has come here, but after the way he dropped you from the team, something serious must have happened to make him want to face up to you.'

'Just so long as it's not another favour he wants,' Will said. 'I'm overdrawn in that particular department.'

'Me too. I wasn't welcomed back to the Department after Milo finished with me; that's something I won't forget in a hurry. I don't suppose that Milo knows about us living together. Do you want me to stay out of sight?'

'Of course not. We don't need permission from the likes of Milo to live our lives the way we choose.'

Another bell chimed, and Will went to the lift to unlock the door.

Milo stepped into the brightly lit apartment, and the first thing he saw was the outline of a woman sitting on a sofa. His blood turned cold. He stood, frozen in shock at the sight.

'It's you!' he cried, and ran towards her. 'Glen!'

Will seized Milo's arm and pulled him to halt. 'Milo! Milo, listen to me.'

Milo turned and stared at Will in blank amazement. The woman had risen from the sofa and was walking towards him. It was not Glen he was looking at; it was Sam.

Sam took Milo's arm and led him to an armchair. She leaned over him and looked into his eyes. 'It's only me, Sam. I'm so sorry to hear about your loss.'

Milo's head was spinning, and, although his mouth was moving, he could not form any words. What was happening? Will appeared by his side and put a glass of whiskey into his hand. Milo stared at each of them in turn, but his mind refused to function, and he felt as though he was stepping into a dream. He automatically sipped the whiskey and slowly calmed down. Eventually, he managed to look back at Sam.

'I apologise for the way I acted,' Milo said. 'For a moment I mistook you for Glen.'

'It's okay,' Sam said. 'You must have been through a bad time.'

'In case you are wondering,' Will said, 'Sam and I are together now. What can we do for you?'

'I came to say I am sorry for the way I acted towards you,' Milo said. 'I was wrong not to trust you. Can you forgive me?'

'You were only doing your job,' Will said, 'and you were under a lot of pressure at the time. There's no need to ask for forgiveness.'

'You are very understanding.'

'But you must tell me. Was I right? I mean about the alien.'

Milo considered Will's question – the meeting was not going the way he had anticipated. First, there was the shock of mistaking Sam for Glen, and now Will's probing. How far was he prepared to go? He took another sip of his whiskey.

'I just want to know if an alien was involved,' Will persisted.

Milo eventually replied, 'Yes, but not in the way you think. I must leave now; I only came here to seek your forgiveness.'

Sam suddenly realized that Milo was clearing his conscience before he did the unthinkable. 'Don't go,' she said. 'Stay here and talk to us. We are your friends.'

Will noticed Sam's concern. 'Milo, you are spending the night here. We will look after you.'

'I can't; I have to go,' Milo protested.

'We have spare rooms,' Sam said. 'It's getting late, and you need to stay here tonight.'

Milo looked around him in bewilderment, still unable to comprehend what was taking place. Will picked up a bottle and topped up Milo's drink.

Sam and Will exchanged glances. Sam rose to her feet. 'I hope you will excuse me, but I have a busy day tomorrow and need an early start.' She left the room.

The two men sat and stared at each other.

'Isn't it strange how things go round in circles?' Will said. 'The first time we met, I mistakenly thought that you were the Defence Secretary and told you about the fires in Southland. You had not heard of them, but you and Glen then invited me to your apartment for dinner, and now here you are, sitting in my apartment. Life is unpredictable, but what goes round generally comes round.'

'That seems like a lifetime ago,' Milo said. 'So much has happened since.'

Will held up his glass. 'Here's to absent friends, in particular to Glen.'

Milo absentmindedly raised his glass, his thoughts elsewhere, and Will got the impression that he was distancing himself from the subject of Glen's demise. He needed to keep him talking.

Will laughed. 'I was cursing you earlier today.'

'Why was that? Milo asked.

'I was collared by a young reporter called Cara, who said that you named me as the person who invented the machines that put out the fires in Southland. She said I deserved a medal, so I would like to thank you in advance for that medal.'

Milo felt himself blush, something he rarely did. 'I knew this would come back to haunt me. Cara is a very persistent reporter, as you have obviously found out. She was desperate to know the names of the team that worked out the solution to the fires, and in the end, I gave her yours because I thought that she would be unable to track you down. I didn't let on that the team she was referring to consisted of four people.'

'Well, it took her only a few hours to track me down, but she did promise me a free lunch, which is an offer I will be declining. Now, as a sign of our renewed friendship, you have to tell me about the involvement of an alien.'

'I cannot,' Milo said. 'Some things can never be told.'

'Many reports have already referred to the fact that there was a suspected alien presence on Bouron. That is public knowledge, so you won't be telling me anything new.'

Milo cast his mind back to when life had been so much straightforward and wished he were still living in those times. 'I will try to bring you up to date, but there is much more, and I can only go so far. A long time ago, Glen and I investigated a case involving a space engineer called Jenna Hale. At the end of the investigation, she was found lying dead inside a Phasewave machine at the Kalmis base.'

'Was she one of the three people who inexplicably died there?' Will interrupted.

'Yes, but she did not die in the way you imagine.'

'There's only one way to die.'

'Not necessarily. When Jenna died, along with the others – Declan and Brant – their genetic imprints transferred to the Phasewave machine, where they continued to exist as aphysical life forms, and they travelled throughout the universe via the Phasewave network. Recently, Jenna returned to Kalmis and produced the solutions to the fires; she is the architect of the machines.'

'So it was Jenna, not the alien, who invented those machines,' Will said. 'That half-answers my question, but what is it with these imprint things?'

'The imprint is a genetic blueprint of the human body, and it is released when a person dies. In the case where the three people entered the Phasewave network, they took their imprints with them, allowing them to retain their identities after their bodies died.'

'I am not sure I am following you, but how did Jenna suddenly turn up on the scene to sort out the fires if she was an aphysical form?'

'Jenna came out of the Phasewave. She took over a physical form – she took over Glen's body. It was Jenna who died in the auto crash, not Glen.'

Will thought over what Milo had just told him. 'If that is true, where is Glen?'

'Jenna and Glen swapped places and Glen entered the machine in the form of an imprint. It was intended only to be a temporary situation, but something went wrong and Glen – the aphysical form of Glen – died inside the machine. When I told you that Jenna had returned to Kalmis, I meant that Jenna had come back from the future. She had already sorted out those fires three years earlier, in her time, that is.'

'What! Jenna was sent back from the future?'

'Let me return to that later,' Milo said.

'Are you telling me that Jenna came back from the future through the Phasewave network, through the transmissions I have been receiving?'

'Yes, but I am not prepared to go there right now.'

'I am struggling to make any sense of what you are telling me.'

'I understand,' Milo said. 'I have been reliving this nightmare for a long time, and even I do not fully know what happened.'

'What did Jenna do after she had sorted out the fires?'

'We all had an agreement that after the fires had been brought under control, Jenna would transfer back into the Phasewave machine and release Glen, but she reneged on the deal.'

'How did that come about?'

'Jenna came to stay with me, and during her stay she gave me all the information and plans necessary to control the fires, but when the time came for her to exchange places with Glen, she only pretended to transfer back into the machine. She then impersonated Glen and returned to live with me. I was immediately called away to Southland, and it was only later that I noticed Glen behaving strangely. Jenna had been an artist in her past existence, and one day I caught Glen sketching a person's face, which she could never have done, and that was the moment I started to suspect that Jenna was still inside Glen's body.'

'Did you confront Jenna with that?'

'Yes, and she explained that when she came to swap with Glen, she found that there was a problem with the machine; it would not allow her back inside and Glen was no longer in there. Glen's imprint had expired. She was so shocked that she could not face telling me, so she decided to impersonate Glen, which she could easily do, until she could find a suitable opportunity to give me the bad news. As a result, Jenna became the permanent owner of Glen's body.'

Will remained silent. He could never have anticipated what Milo had just told him.

'After that admission, the relationship between us became extremely strained,' Milo continued. 'We agreed to go our separate ways, but Jenna knew she could not survive on her own – she did not know anyone on Vennica. She started drinking and behaving erratically, until she finally crashed Glen's auto and was killed.' Milo finished his drink. 'There you have it. Glen is gone, and so is Jenna. I now have nothing left to live for.'

Will thought carefully about what Milo had said. 'Thank you for confiding in me, and I can assure you that everything you have said will remain between these walls. What are your intentions now?'

'I do not have any,' Milo said.

'Can I help you in any way?'

'I cannot think of anything you can do for me, but it is considerate of you to offer.'

'Have you checked the Phasewave machine?'

Milo was surprised. 'What would be the point of that if there is nobody inside it? Why do you ask?'

Will shrugged. 'I am probably clutching at straws, but you said that something went wrong, and that fault prevented Jenna returning into the machine and was associated with Glen's disappearance. Is it possible that the fault could have since been rectified? I know it is a long shot, but I think it might be a worthwhile first step to determine if Glen really has disappeared for good.'

Milo's face had turned pale. 'Do you seriously believe that Glen could still be alive inside the machine?' he asked.

'I have to be honest and say I have no idea, but it might provide you with some closure if you can confirm that for yourself, one way or another.'

Milo started to see a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

'We need to go to the Phasewave and find out,' Will said.

'You mean you are willing to help me, after the way I treated you.'

'I started you off on this chain of events when I first met you and told you about the fires, so I am quite amenable to accompanying you to the machine if you decide to pay it a visit.'

'Thank you for your offer, but I really should go on my own. There is no need for you to become involved.'

'Four eyes are better than two,' Will said.

'When I first visited the Phasewave base, I had to lay down the law to get the Base Manager to allow me access to the Phasewave unit. I think there might be a bit of unpleasantness if I keep visiting that unit.'

'Then it sounds as if you could do with some backup,' Will said. 'I have never seen one of those Phasewave machines, so it would be an enlightening experience for me to go with you.'

'In that case, it would be my pleasure,' Milo replied. 'It's too late to do anything tonight, but we could start tomorrow.'

'Thank you.' Will topped up their glasses. 'Now you definitely have to stay the night,' he added.

#####  Chapter Three

'What time is it?' Sam asked.

Will turned over and checked the bedside clock. 'Just after seven.'

'I'd better get a move on; I've a busy day ahead of me.' Sam climbed out of bed and left the room. She returned in her underwear and padded around the bedroom in her bare feet, searching inside cupboards for her uniform. 'I presume Milo has left,' she said.

'Yes,' Will replied. 'I filled him with coffee and sent him on his way an hour ago.'

'Did he have anything to add to what you told me last night?'

'No. He was very subdued and thanked us both for having him to stay. I think he was embarrassed at his actions. He is going to contact me later this morning when he has made arrangements for a cruiser to take us to the Phasewave Base.'

'Do you think Glen is stuck inside that machine?'

Will shook his head. 'No. Milo seems to be blaming himself unduly for what happened to Glen, but I can't work out why. Accidents happen all the time.'

'I'm surprised that you have agreed to help him.'

'Ah, that's part of the new me, the one you have been working on. I get points for being nice. My only hope is that Milo will get some kind of closure from the visit.'

'If there are any developments, please make sure that you don't include me,' Sam said. 'I can't afford to upset the Department again; in fact, I don't think either of us should be involved with the aftermath of Glen's death.'

Will watched Sam as she dressed. Even after two months living together, Will still felt a thrill when he observed Sam in an intimate situation. He could tell by the expression on her face that she was already planning her day ahead and was not noticing his attention. She put on her uniform skirt and blouse, and Will thought how attractive she looked. 'Has anyone ever told you that you look really sexy in uniform?' he asked.

Sam slipped on her shoes. 'Nope. You're the only one.'

'I don't believe you. The guys at work are just being polite. Anyway, what is the occasion for the uniform? Are you having a party or something?'

'I am interviewing today with Alasdair and Tom.'

'You have come on fast. I had to do a year before they would let me loose.'

'It's not quite like that. I'm not supposed to say or do anything except stare at the interviewees and try to make them feel uncomfortable. In return, all they do is try to look up my skirt. I can't tell you how uncomfortable that makes me feel.'

'They must let you join in every now and again.'

'When things start to slow down, I start passing them pieces of paper with suggestions on them. If it's been a long day, they sometimes let me finish. That's the only bit I like.'

'It sounds like you'll soon be running the place,' Will said. He finally abandoned the bed and donned a dressing gown.

'I'll skip breakfast,' Sam said, gulping down the last of her cold coffee. 'Before I go, what do you think the outcome of today's visit will be?'

'I don't expect to learn anything from the Phasewave machine, in which case we probably won't see Milo again.'

'Then let's hope that he comes to terms with his situation and stops blaming himself.' Sam checked the time. 'I'm running late.' She put on her tunic, collected her bag, kissed Will goodbye and quickly walked out of the room to catch the lift.

Will was grateful to spend some time on his own. He made himself another cup of coffee, took it into the lounge and sat down to examine the Cromite report that had been puzzling Sam. It made interesting reading. If the crystals did have an organic base, he reasoned, that would mean they must have been alive at some point in their past, but probably in a different physical form. He went into his study and returned with the box containing his Glo-Babe. Exposed to the morning light, it burst into life with a flowing display of colour. Will watched it closely and felt the familiar start of a migraine. He was convinced that the Glo-Babe was trying to contact him and put his hand inside the display, but there was no indication that the Glo-Babe had recognized any contact. He withdrew his hand and tried to envisage how the crystals managed to clump together inside a landfill. It was highly unlikely that they would have been accidentally buried together in quantities capable of creating the uncontrollable fires, so they must have had the ability to move independently in order to fuse with each other. How would they be able to do that? The crystals exhibited a magnetic quality, but would that be strong enough to pull them together when they were buried in a tip? And unless they were capable of communicating with each other, how could they determine the location of nearby crystals? It remained a mystery.

With regret, Will stowed the crystal in its box and then sat back and started to think about Milo's situation and if there was any way in which he or Sam could help him. Had Milo genuinely intended to take his own life the previous evening? What would cause him to take such an irreversible action? Maybe Sam was right when she said they should not become involved. She usually was.

The restaurant was filling up with the lunchtime rush when Cara joined Al at his table.

'Only just made it,' Cara said.

'Only twenty minutes late,' Al replied. 'You are improving.'

Al had already placed an order, and the waitress soon arrived with a beer and a glass of rosé wine.

'I don't know why anyone would want to drink that stuff,' Al said, indicating Cara's wine.

'It's the fashionable lunchtime drink of the day,' Cara replied. 'Everyone is drinking it. Everyone apart from you, that is. How is your internship going?'

'Today is number one hundred and thirty of my captivity. I am going to start digging an escape tunnel.'

'At least you got a job working for the President. That haircut you had obviously did the trick at the interview.'

Al ran his fingers through his short, blonde hair. 'Tell me this rug is starting to grow again.'

'From where I am sitting, I would definitely say that it will be back to normal by the time you leave.' Cara laughed. 'Suck it up; you won't regret any time spent in Government House.'

'I guess it looks good on a CV, and it's only for six months. I am never invited to the big issue meetings, so I really don't know much about what goes on at high level. All I get to hear are the rumours, which aren't so interesting. Have you interviewed Milo yet?'

'Yes, but he wasn't giving anything away. It was a complete waste of time. Do you have any dealings with him?'

'I bump into him every now and again. All I know is that he had a bad time after his partner died.'

'Do you know a man called Will Avery?'

'No. Should I?'

'Milo put me onto him. He told me that Avery invented the machine that broke up the Southland fires. When I tracked him down, it was obvious that he knew nothing about the machines, or anything else that had gone on. He is just an investigator, and there is no way that he ever invented that machine. Milo was talking bollocks.'

It was Al's turn to laugh. 'Milo is effectively a law unto himself. What do you want to eat?'

'I'll stick to my perpetual pasta, and my guess is that you will order your perpetual pie. Milo is on this month's magazine cover, and I hope he likes the article. I've now come to a dead end, and I'm desperate for next month's story. Can you pass on any gossip you hear about how those fires got sorted and who did it?'

'Of course, but only if you promise not to reveal your source.'

'I never identify my leads.'

'Okay, I'll keep my ear to the ground. Now, what do you fancy doing tonight?'

That afternoon, Milo and Will arrived at the Kalmis Phasewave base and entered the underground tunnel leading to Phasewave Unit Four. As they walked down the tunnel, a voice from behind them broke the silence.

'Mister Secretary!'

Milo turned to find two people following them. One was a well-built man with wide shoulders and close-cropped hair, and the other was a stern-looking woman dressed in a business suit. They caught up with Milo and Will. The man looked threatening, and his bulk practically blocked the tunnel.

'We have spoken before,' the man said. 'I'm Jonas Barrett, the Base Manager.' He waved towards his companion. 'And this is my legal advisor, Kate.' She offered no sign of greeting.

Milo recalled their terse conversation when he first forced his way into the Phasewave. 'How can I be of assistance?' he politely asked.

'It has come to my attention that you have been quite active in here recently, and I was wondering if the facilities met your approval,' he said sarcastically.

'Yes, everything is fine. As I told you, we are working on an unsolved case and Unit Four is still a crime scene.'

'Of course you did. Actually, this is just a courtesy call to let you know that we will shortly be decommissioning this unit.'

'Why is that?'

'The Phasewave Company has now produced a new range of machines and intends to gradually replace the older units, starting with this one.'

'Is there any particular reason for picking this unit?' Milo asked.

'Yes. We've selected Unit Four because of its reputation as the Ghost Unit due to all the deaths that took place inside it. The staff here don't like going into the unit; in fact one of my staff recently tried to resign because she thought there was someone inside the machine. She thought it might be a ghost.'

'We both know that cannot be true,' Milo replied. 'Nobody believes in ghosts.'

'I am in complete agreement with you,' Jonas said, 'or I was until this staff member described a conversation with an old woman who appeared on a monitor screen inside the unit.'

'That sounds like a made-up story.'

'Which is exactly what I first thought, but this old woman gave a message to my staff member which she then conveyed to the Vennican Cultural Ambassador, who, I am led to believe, was your partner at the time. Is there anything you should be telling me?'

'I know of nothing that would concern you. What kind of timescale for this closure are you talking about?'

'Two months. In the meantime, if you do discover any malfunctions with the machine, you must let me know.'

'You can depend on it.'

The two visitors wheeled round and marched in step back along the tunnel.

'That guy is never going to make it as a comedian,' Will said. 'I take it he's no friend of yours.'

'In order to gain entry to this unit, which turned out to be the occasion I accidentally contacted Jenna, I threatened to close down the base if he denied me access, and he is now retaking the high ground. His lawyer companion was probably here to witness our conversation.'

'He is pushing his luck taking on a Government Secretary,' Will said. 'For a moment back there, I thought things were going to get physical.'

'He certainly looked like he could handle himself,' Milo commented.

'Don't worry; I would have stopped him.'

Milo smiled. 'You mean despite his height, weight, and reach advantages?'

'I've taken down bigger,' Will said.

Milo stopped walking. 'Am I missing something? Are you somehow exempt from the laws of Physics?'

'I used to do that kind of thing,' Will explained. 'He may have the strength, but he is a slow mover.'

'You really are full of surprises. What kind of thing are you talking about?'

Will laughed. 'You don't want to know.'

'Try me.'

'Okay. One of the spin-offs of my head defect is that as I grew up I developed an uncontrollable temper. I was always in trouble, and by the time I reached my teens, I ended up being faced with the option of going to prison or taking an anger-management course. I did the course and started boxing, which I really enjoyed. That led to the free-style stuff and the gambling contests, which I did for a year.'

'Wasn't that illegal?'

'Only if you got caught. I made good money doing the fight circuits, but it was dangerous work.'

Milo shook his head in wonder and continued walking. 'Well, let's hope our friend stays away from you, but in the past, the Phasewave Company was responsible for bringing down a government, so I don't think they are likely to have much respect for me. They are the largest company in existence.'

'When were you going to tell me about the old woman?'

Milo gave a humourless laugh. 'That was Jenna. That was how she contacted Glen.'

'You're losing me,' Will said. 'When you mentioned Jenna, you left me with the impression that she was a young woman. I really think you need to bring me up to speed on all of this.'

'I would like to,' Milo replied, 'but Glen and I are the only people who know the full story of what took place, and we made an agreement that we would never reveal those events to anyone else. I want to tell you more, but for your own peace of mind, it is better that you remain unaware of certain events that have taken place.' He stopped before a large, steel door. 'This is Unit Four.'

Will stared around the inside of the Phasewave unit. He had no preconceived ideas of what to expect, but the machine looked colossal inside the cramped room. He walked over to it and felt a slight vibration coming through the floor. 'So this is what it is all about,' he said.

'Yes. Five people died in here.'

Will suddenly clutched his head.

'What is it?' Milo asked.

'I just received a transmission. It was very short.'

'Was it from the Phasewave?'

'I don't know. There was no content, just the transmission. It has stopped now; it must have been a stray output from the Phasewave.'

Milo turned back to the machine. 'I only hope Glen is in here and that we are able to contact her.'

'There's one way to find out for sure,' Will suggested.

'Yes. Here goes.' Milo stepped up and grasped the machine's casing with both hands. There was no response. After holding it for a minute, he shook his head and let go of the casing. 'This isn't going to work.'

'There must have been some dialogue when Glen and Jenna swapped places. How did they make contact?'

Milo pointed to a console next to the machine. 'They used this monitor. Let's give it a go.' Milo walked over to the monitor and switched it on. The monitor was dead.

'It looks like the circuit power has failed,' Will commented.

'Well, it was worth a try,' Milo said. 'The main contact point was through the metal casing, but there is obviously nothing there. I think we are done.'

'At least we have checked it out,' Will said. He looked around the room where racks of electronics were displayed. 'What are these other monitors for?'

'I guess they are backups,' Milo said. 'I have never seen them in operation.'

Will stepped up to one of the racks and turned on a console. The screen lit up, but remained blank. 'There's not much else to see,' Will said. 'I think you are right; we are done here.'

The monitor screen suddenly flickered, and when it lit up again, Glen's face appeared. Glen looked surprised. Her eyes moved around the screen until they suddenly stopped and focussed on Milo.

'Is that you, Milo?' she asked in a trembling voice.

Milo frantically nodded his head. 'Yes, it's me. Thank God I've found you.'

Glen burst into tears, overcome with emotion.

'I thought I would never see you again,' Milo said. 'I should never have left you on your own for so long.'

Glen wiped the tears from her face. 'What has been happening while I have been out of circulation? Did Jenna deliver?'

'Well, the fires are now under control.'

'That must be a relief.' Glen peered across the screen. 'Is that Will next to you?'

'Yes, Will is helping me out,' Milo said.

Glen looked puzzled. 'I thought you would be bringing Jenna back for the changeover. Where is she?'

Milo struggled to control himself. 'I'm afraid I have some bad news. Jenna isn't with us anymore.'

'What do you mean?' Glen asked. 'Where has she gone?'

Milo was unable to reply.

Will joined in to help Milo out. 'Jenna was involved in an auto accident. Unfortunately she did not survive the crash and died as a result of her injuries.'

Glen's face turned white as she realized what had happened. She covered her mouth with a hand.

'Don't worry,' Will continued. 'We will find a way to get you out of there.'

Glen became distraught. 'I've been waiting all this time, and now you tell me I won't be able to regain my own body. Without that, you'll never be able to get me out of here.'

'Please allow us a little time,' Will asked. 'We've only just realized that you are still alive.'

Glen looked quizzically at Milo. 'You mean Jenna told you I was dead?'

Milo nodded dumbly.

Glen appeared to shrink on the screen. 'I can't think straight. I'd better go now and leave you to work out what you are going to do.'

The screen went blank, and Milo switched off the monitor.

#####  Chapter Four

Will and Milo stood and stared at each other.

'That was a surprise,' Will said.

'Glen took Jenna's death badly,' Milo said. 'I must confess that I did not really believe she was still inside the machine because I didn't want to be over-optimistic.'

'This is just the start. Now we know that Glen is safe, we can move forward and find a way to extract her from the machine.'

'I can't see how. Glen won't be able to leave the machine until we find another functioning body for her to occupy. How can we possibly overcome that problem? What else can we do?'

'I thought you would be pleased to find Glen alive,' Will said. 'Glen needs you to be here for her; don't give up on her now.'

Milo took a deep breath and fought to control his emotions. 'It is my fault that Glen is now trapped inside that machine. I must find a way to bring her back.'

'For the moment, let's just be thankful that she is still alive,' Will said. 'Is there anything I can do to help you?'

'I don't know. I can't think how you can possibly help me. I am clean out of ideas.'

Will considered the problem for a while. 'When you came round last night, you admitted that an alien was involved in all of this, but not in the way I thought. Where is the alien now?'

'I explained why I could not tell you about the alien.'

'You did, but since then we have confirmed that Glen is trapped inside that machine, and she is relying on us for assistance. This is not the time to split hairs. If I am to help you, you must tell me about the alien.'

Milo held up his hands in despair. 'Okay. Just tell me what you want to know.'

'Was the alien involved when Jenna came out of the machine to help you?'

'Yes and no.'

'Be serious,' Will warned.

'You questioned why Jenna looked so old,' Milo said. 'She was actually much younger, but when she was sent back four years in time by a malfunction of the Phasewave network, she found herself trapped inside this machine. Jenna was dying inside the Phasewave, which is why she was aging so rapidly, and she spent a year in that condition, unable to do anything to help herself.'

'Presumably, the alien was not around inside the Phasewave, or it would have helped her, so at what point did it turn up on the scene?'

'After Jenna left the machine, she made contact with the alien when she came to stay at my apartment.'

'How did that happen?'

'She made contact through me.'

Will stared at Milo.

'Although I was unaware of its presence at that time, the alien was inside me,' Milo explained. 'Jenna was very frail when she took over Glen's body, but I passed the alien onto her, and it restored her health. Jenna then intended to take the alien back into the Phasewave with her when she replaced Glen. At least that was the plan at the time.'

'I simply don't understand how you could pass on an alien you didn't know you possessed. Have I missed something?'

'I am uncomfortable about telling you this, but the alien could be physically transferred by sexual contact. Jenna and I had sex and, without my being aware, the alien passed from me to her.'

'Why were you carrying the alien?'

'It was a hangover from the Colonial invasion. The alien took a major part in deflecting that invasion and was responsible for saving us all from mass destruction. Afterwards, it told me that it was leaving Vennica for good, but Jenna later informed me that a part of the alien had stayed with me. It had taken a passive role and was only there to assist me in the event of an emergency.'

'You mean such as the fires in Southland?'

'No. Jenna resolved all that. It did not take long; she told me that she had already done it three years earlier, in her time that was.'

'So why did Jenna and the others abandon their physical states and enter the Phasewave in the first place? They must have had compelling reasons.'

'They did. At the time, the alien was under the impression that the human race was about to self-destruct, so it and the others went to Psion3, the research station in deep space where Declan had been involved in the creation of artificial life, in order to try to produce a new, peaceful, species of human being.'

'Did that happen?'

'No. While they were on Scion, the alien intercepted and read encrypted messages passing through the Phasewave network and discovered that the Colonies were planning an imminent attack on Vennica, commencing with the annihilation of the entire population of Kalmis. Working as a team, they then worked out a way to thwart the invasion by distributing the alien throughout the Northland population through sexual contact. By doing that, the alien eventually spread through several thousand people who would respond to the alien's wishes and combat the Colonial forces and their sympathisers. Those people prevented the invasion; they are the real heroes in that affair, yet their memories of what occurred were wiped when the alien left them.'

'Why did the alien abandon them? Surely they would have been of use in the future.'

'I hate to admit this, but after witnessing human behaviour first hand, the alien decided that the human race was programmed to self-destruct and could not be saved. That was the real reason for its departure; it decided not to waste any more of its time pursuing the impossible.'

'Wow,' Will said. 'That is some story.'

'Yes. I think we should leave now and give this matter more consideration.'

Both men left the unit and walked back through the tunnel, deep in thought.

'What exactly does this alien consist of?' Will asked.

'It consists of energy, pure energy. The alien is formless and is able to exist wherever it can access a suitable energy source. It possesses an intelligence far surpassing anything human, and it chose to exist in the Phasewave network because all Phasewaves are supplied by failsafe power sources. In addition, the network allowed it to travel throughout the universe at will.'

Will tried to digest what he had just heard. 'Let me get this straight. You gave the alien to Jenna, but she didn't return inside the Phasewave. Glen is still in there, so where is the alien right now?'

'I presume that the alien, which would actually only be a minute part of the alien entity, stayed with Jenna and perished with her in the auto crash. Without access to its host's energy field, the alien would simply shut down and cease to exist. Why do you ask?'

'I'm trying to work out how to save Glen, and I believe any feasible plan must include your alien.'

'I can't tell you any more than I have.'

'I know how to keep a confidence.'

'Yes, and we both know how effective forced mental stimulation is at releasing such information. Trust me.'

The cruiser lifted off from the compound and headed back towards Kalmis.

'I would like Sam to work with us again,' Milo said. 'Do you think she would be willing to re-join our team?'

For a moment, Will was caught off guard. 'I'm not sure. She is a warranted agent, and I think she would be concerned about being compromised by working for another agency,' he lied.

'The next time we visit the Phasewave, I want to assure Glen that we will be able to retrieve her from the Phasewave unit, and I think it would be better if Glen heard that from Sam rather than from me. Can you explain my situation to her? I know I can rely on her discretion, and I don't want to involve any else at this stage.'

'I'll see what I can do,' Will said.

'I suggest that you bring her up to date on what has happened. I still have no clear idea how this situation can be resolved, but hopefully, after we have released Glen from the machine, we will one day be able to return to normal without having to worry any more about imprints and aliens.'

That evening, Sam and Will sat together on a sofa. Sam was wide-eyed after hearing what Will had told her. 'I cannot believe that Milo opened up to you like that,' she said. 'Are you certain of your facts?'

'Yes, the explanations are starting to make complete sense,' Will said. 'I must admit I was not expecting what I heard, but Glen is still alive inside the machine, and we are trying to work out how to release her.'

'So when Jenna died, she took with her Glen's body and the alien. Now, Glen needs to take over a body from another woman who is willing to swap places with her inside the machine.'

'You summed that up neatly,' Will said.

'It's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Do you realize what you just said?'

'I have actually been to the Phasewave and witnessed Glen trapped inside it. I have spoken to her through a monitor and can assure you that it is true. I want to help Milo find a way out of this mess. Are you determined not to join us? '

'The last time we had any dealings with Milo, he dropped both of us from his team,' Sam said. 'In fact when he ditched me, all I got was a message Margaret had left on my desk saying I was no longer needed, and when I went back to the security Service, they had no idea that I had been relocated. It was embarrassing for everyone concerned, and I have no intention of going down that route again.'

'What would it take to change your mind? Milo is willing to talk to you if you want.'

'This is emotional blackmail,' Sam said. 'Why do you feel it necessary to go out of your way to help Milo after the way he flicked you off the team?'

'I don't feel obliged to help Milo, but I would like to help him recover Glen from the machine. It's Glen I am concerned about, but I have to admit that I would also like to find out about this alien. If we do manage to track it down, it might be able to help us recover Glen.'

'That is a lot to expect, and what are the odds on achieving it?'

'Nobody would give you odds on that happening. We are dealing with a totally unknown situation.'

'How close are you to finding a solution?'

'We haven't even started, so there is a long road ahead of us,' Will replied. 'Unless we can locate this alien, which appears to have vanished, we are going nowhere.'

Sam tried to think clearly, but everything was getting out of hand.

'We will be visiting the Phasewave base tomorrow,' Will said. 'Glen is having a bad time stuck inside the machine, and Milo is keen for you to give her some support. Can I do anything at all to make you change your mind?'

Sam sighed. 'All right, I will talk to Alasdair and see if he is willing to accept me back in the Department afterwards without prejudice.'

'I am very grateful,' Will said, 'and I know it would mean a lot to Milo.'

'What reason shall I give when Alasdair asks me why Milo is so determined to employ me?'

'That's going to be tricky. I think all you can say is that Milo hasn't explained what he wants from you, but you assume it is going to be a continuation of the previous work you did for him. Because Milo is involved, Alasdair probably won't put you on the spot.'

'What kind of timescale are we talking about?'

'As yet we have no idea how this will work out,' Will replied. 'I honestly don't know where we are going from here.'

'Maybe something will turn up,' Sam said.

'I hope so. I'm afraid I also have some disturbing news for you.'

'You mean what you just told me wasn't disturbing enough?'

'I picked up another transmission – the fires in Southland are about to start up again.'

'Not again!' Sam exclaimed. 'That is the last thing Milo wants. Are you going to tell him?'

'No. Right now, I think it would push him over the edge. I don't know exactly when the fires will start, but I think it is imminent.'

'If I'm going to be involved in this affair, I want to make myself useful,' Sam said. 'Why don't I swap places with Glen and give her a break outside the machine?'

Will was startled. 'That won't work. What will you achieve? You will then be stuck inside the machine, and Glen will be walking around in your body. That would be insane.'

'I could stay in there until you find the alien,' Sam said.

'Let's be completely honest, we both know that is unlikely to happen, and you can't spend your life sharing your body out, even if that were possible.'

'That decision is for me to make, not you.'

'You're being silly,' Will unwisely commented.

Sam became angry. 'I'm being silly? What gives you the right to talk down to me? You live a life of self-indulgence while I go out to work and struggle to make a living. I have earned the right to make my own decisions.'

'You call working for that bunch of bozos in the Security Service a living?' Will said.

'How dare you say that? Sam responded. 'It's not the Service's fault that they sacked you and will never employ you again. You deserved it.'

'I never thought that we would be having this conversation. I have provided you with a life of luxury and anything money can buy. Doesn't that mean anything to you?'

'Of course it does. I appreciate everything you have done for me, but I have no idea where we are going. We don't have any friends, and we never do anything together. I need my job and my career; what I don't need is to be dragged around like excess baggage while you chase aliens for Milo.'

'You don't need to worry about a career; you have already arrived.'

'No. You have arrived, and I am just starting out. I feel trapped in here at night while you go out drinking and gambling, and now you have become obsessed with finding an invisible alien. This is not what I expected out of our relationship.'

Will stood up, trying to control his anger. 'Very well. I'm sorry you feel that way about me and everything I've done for you.' He stalked out of the room.

Sam remained on the sofa, feeling devastated. She had always tried to contain her feelings, and now the words had just blurted out, as if they had been waiting for this very moment. Will had now been hurt, which had not been her intention. For a long while, she sat, unable to face Will in the bedroom, while she tried to rationalise their situation. After a while, she accepted that the hidden flaw in their relationship needed to be brought out into the open, regardless of the consequences, and that night, for the first time after moving in, Sam slept in a guest bedroom on her own.

The next morning, Sam stood next to the Phasewave machine with Milo and Will. She and Will had both been deeply upset after the previous evening's argument and had hardly spoken on the journey out there. Milo appeared not to have noticed their frosty manner and was becoming nervous at the thought of seeing Glen again.

Sam stared at the enormous machine; she had never seen one before and thought that the whole place was creepy. 'So this is where everyone died,' she commented.

'No,' Will replied, trying to lighten the mood. 'I think that happened in another machine.'

'Don't be stupid,' Sam snapped. 'This is the notorious Ghost Unit where several people died. Stop treating me as a child.'

Milo looked away, embarrassed. Never before had he heard Sam speak like that.

Will was taken aback by Sam's response, but before he could think of a reply, he received a transmission and clutched his head tightly.

'Are you alright?' Milo asked.

Will slowly dropped his hands. 'That hurt. It was just like the one I received on our previous visit. I think it could only have come from inside the Phasewave.'

'Was it the same as those you receive from the future?' Sam asked.

'No,' Will replied. 'This was more intense, and it stopped abruptly, whereas the others always faded out.'

'Let's see if we can find out what is causing it.' Milo switched on the monitor and Glen appeared on its screen. She was grateful to see Sam. 'I see they have pulled you in again,' she said.

Sam waved a cheery hello. 'Yes, they twisted my arm. There's no need to worry; we will soon have you out of here.'

Glen looked at Milo and saw the lines of worry on his face. She felt bad because she knew that he was blaming himself for Jenna's death. 'Milo,' she asked, 'could we have a word together on our own?'

'Of course we can,' Milo agreed.

'We'll stay outside,' Will said. He accompanied Sam from the unit.

Glen waited until the others were out of earshot. 'I know what you did, Milo.'

'I am responsible for this whole mess,' Milo said. 'I acted without thinking.'

'Stop beating yourself up,' Glen said. 'You were only doing what I forced you to agree to; everything else is just coincidental.'

'Oh, no,' Milo said. 'It isn't what you think.'

'You are just saying that to console me.'

'No. I intended to honour our agreement, but when Jenna informed me that you had passed away, I could not bring myself to destroy all that remained of you. Another situation then developed. When Jenna exchanged places with you, she caught your final thought, which was our agreement for me to kill her and destroy her body if she reneged on the deal. That influenced her thinking and led to her erratic behaviour when she realized that I was not going to accept her as your substitute. One evening, she got very drunk and started an argument, during which she threatened to kill herself. I didn't listen and went to bed, leaving her alone. Later that night, she took your auto and crashed it. The first I heard of her death was when the police contacted me early the next morning. The police were following her because she was speeding, and as they caught up, she veered off the highway and crashed into the base of a cliff. There was nothing wrong with the auto; her death was almost certainly deliberate.'

Glen mulled over Milo's words. 'Can you explain why Jenna retained my body and why she committed suicide?'

'I can only assume that having seen into a bleak future, Jenna chose to regain a physical presence and try to live a normal life again. After I had discovered her deception, I think this was her way, by destroying your body, of ensuring that you would never be released from the machine. I am convinced that she committed suicide as an act of revenge. Does that make sense to you?'

'Not really. Since our last meeting, I have spent a lot of time thinking about Jenna's actions, and I have come to a different conclusion.'

'What is that?'

'It is my belief that Jenna did not act out of malice. Jenna herself told us that we could not change the past or the future, and I think that at some point after she had left the machine, she realized that by re-entering the machine, she would be committing herself to an endless cycle of four-year stretches, always returning to be trapped inside Unit Four and then being released to help us put out the fires in Southland.'

'So do you think that somehow she was trying to change the future?'

'No. My belief is that Jenna accepted she could not change the future and was trying to break her own cycle. I think she eventually worked out that the only way to achieve that was by destroying her imprint and the alien presence inside her. Unfortunately, that meant destroying my body in the process, but Jenna definitely succeeded in breaking the cycle.'

'I hadn't thought of that,' Milo said. 'At the end, she did appear to be very depressed.'

'It's only a theory,' Glen said, 'and dwelling on the past is not going to help us plan for the future. We now need to put everything behind us and concentrate on finding a way to release me from this machine.'

'I've got Will and Sam helping me, so between us we should be able to work something out.'

'I'm not holding my breath. You must also think about yourself, and we have to accept the possibility that there may not be a solution to my situation.'

'Don't talk like that. I will do everything humanly possible to get you out.'

Glen gave Milo a smile. 'I know you will. In the meantime, don't worry about me; I will amuse myself by exploring the insides of this machine.'

Glen's image faded from the screen, and Milo switched off the monitor. He called Will and Sam back in. 'Is there anything you need to do here before we go?' he asked.

Sam and Will shook their heads.

Will turned to leave and then clutched his head again. 'There's that transmission.' Suddenly his face lit up. 'I am communicating with something inside this machine.' He listened intently. 'It's the alien!'

'The alien? Can you talk to it?' Milo asked.

'I don't have to; somehow it is reading my mind.'

'What is it telling you?'

'It says that it is inside the machine and is aware of Glen's presence. Do we want it to make contact with her?'

'Yes, yes!' Milo said. 'Tell it to contact Glen and let her know it is in there with her.'

Will continued. 'The alien says that it transferred into the Phasewave when Jenna made contact with it, but Jenna did not follow, and since then it has been waiting inside the machine to join up with her. After overhearing Milo's recent conversation with Glen, it understood that Jenna was deceased, and now wants to know what our intentions are regarding releasing Glen from inside the machine. I have told it that we have not yet worked anything out but will welcome any suggestions it might have. It is now going to contact Glen and will talk to us again in a little while.'

'What a stroke of luck coming across the alien like that,' Sam said.

'I knew there was something in there,' Will added. 'At least the mystery of those transmissions has been solved.'

'I'm keeping my fingers crossed,' Milo said. 'Let's wait and see what Glen has to say.'

The three of them waited in anticipation, and ten minutes later, the monitor screen again lit up. Glen appeared, looking very excited. 'I now have the company of an alien. Whatever next?'

'Don't worry,' Milo said. 'With the discovery of the alien, everything has changed, and with its help, we should soon be able to work out how to release you.'

'There is a way to go, and I am still not convinced that your optimism is entirely justified,' Glen said. 'Keep me posted.'

The monitor shut down and the three of them left the unit.

The sun was setting by the time their cruiser began its descent into Kalmis. The journey had taken place in silence while its occupants considered the new situation involving the alien.

Milo eventually broke the silence. 'Sam, I intended to speak to you earlier, but thank you for joining us at such short notice. I hope Alasdair wasn't put out.'

'He wasn't too upset,' Sam tactfully replied, trying to overlook her boss's meltdown when he had heard her request.

'I am so relieved that we have found the alien,' Milo said. 'Will, how did you manage to communicate with it?'

'I can only surmise that the metal in my head must be acting as a transmitter as well as a receiver and that the alien is picking up my thoughts.'

'With the alien now on board, how does that change Glen's situation?' Sam asked.

'I'm hoping that the alien will discover a way to release Glen from the machine' Milo said.

'So, at the moment nothing has changed and Glen's only option right now is to trade places with another woman?'

'I suppose it is,' Milo confirmed, 'but we must be very careful. I've been here before, and this was how Glen ended up trapped inside the machine. Why do you ask?'

'Don't go there!' Will warned.

Sam ignored Will's comment. 'Then why can't Glen come out and borrow my body for a while?'

Will was upset. 'Don't say that. You are unaware of the dangers.'

'Definitely not,' Milo said. 'That would be unfair to you and would only delay the inevitable. Once Glen has left the machine, nobody could expect her to return after what she has just been through.'

'Well, the offer's on the table if you need it,' Sam said.

The next day, Milo, Will and Sam returned to the Phasewave. As soon as Will approached the machine, he picked up a communication from the alien.

'The alien has asked me if we have worked out how to release Glen from the machine,' Will said. 'I told it that we intend to search for a replacement body.'

He stopped and listened. 'The alien understands from Glen that Jenna died inside Glen's body, and is asking what happened to her body afterwards?' Will looked enquiringly at Milo.

'Tell it that Glen's remains are interred in my family vault,' Milo said, 'but they were badly burnt.'

Will listened again. 'How much of the body is left?'

'About half,' Milo said. 'What is it thinking?'

'The alien says it has the ability to resurrect the body from its DNA, if there is sufficient DNA available. It says it did the same with Brant after he died. It also says the bigger the body sample, the better are the chances of its success.'

'Inform it that the body was embalmed,' Milo said, 'and that any DNA present has probably been damaged by the high temperatures involved in the fire.'

'So long as Glen has an undamaged imprint, the alien does not consider that to be an issue; it is able to reconstruct DNA from a range of samples. It is also willing to leave the machine to carry out the resurrection, but will need to populate a human body in order to do so.'

'It is my place to carry out that duty,' Milo said.

'The alien says it will be a distressing experience,' Will said, 'and that Milo should not be involved because of his relationship with Glen. It will now give us time to consider its suggestion.'

'I'm finding this difficult to comprehend,' Milo said. 'Am I seriously going to exhume Glen's body and try to bring it back to life?'

'The alien sounded confident enough,' Will replied. 'All we have to do is work through the process by following the alien's instructions. If the alien can't resolve our problem, who or what can? This is probably going to be our one and only opportunity to get Glen back.'

'Okay, so where do we start?'

'The alien has already explained to me what it requires,' Will said. 'After we have obtained Glen's body, it will take several hours to restore it, during which time whoever is its host will be required to maintain physical contact with the body – the alien can only release its energy in small amounts while the body is unformed. When the body has been physically restored to life, Glen's imprint will be applied to bring her back.'

'I can arrange to collect the body,' Milo said, 'but who will act as host?'

'The alien advises that the host should be someone outside Glen's acquaintance,' Will said. 'It also says that it will advise Glen of everything that has been said and asks us to go away and apply our thoughts. It adds that this will not be a pleasant task.'

'Let's go back to my place and talk this through,' Milo said. 'I think the alien understated the situation when it said it was going to unpleasant.'

Milo made coffees for everybody before joining Will and Sam in his living room. They remained silent as they pondered their next actions.

'If this procedure is going to take several hours,' Sam said, 'are we sure that we can stay in the unit that long without interruption?'

'The process sounds like it is going to be long and complicated,' Milo replied. 'We may need to complete it somewhere else.'

'A lot of things could go wrong,' Will pointed out. 'There is no guarantee that any of this will work.'

'I am aware of that, but we are just going to have to accept whatever the alien suggests,' Milo said. 'Whatever happens, this is going to be a traumatic experience for whoever is holding the body whilst it is being rebuilt.'

'The person involved will be acting as a carrier for the alien and will be aware of everything that goes on,' Will said. 'Sam cannot stand the sight of blood, and the alien has ruled you out, so it has to be me.'

Sam knew that to be true but was desperate to help. 'What if I were to be drugged at the time?'

'I would not be happy with that,' Milo said. 'It would just add another layer of complexity on an already tricky situation. Could it be anyone else? Could we find a doctor or someone with medical experience? Do you know of anyone working in that field?'

Sam suddenly had an inspiration. 'What about approaching Amelia? She is really into medicine and is desperate to become a doctor.'

'What we are asking for is way beyond anything she will have experienced,' Will said. 'Is she capable of doing it?'

'I think she might be,' Sam said. 'Amelia is naturally curious and would certainly be discreet if we took her into our confidence. Bear in mind that what we are asking for is outside anyone's experience.'

'I'm not sure about bringing in an outsider,' Milo said. 'It really ought to be one of us.'

'Why don't I ask her?' Sam said. 'I'm only assuming that she might want to be involved.'

Will turned to Milo. 'I know Amelia, and think it is worth a shot. If she were to do it, I would make sure she is rewarded for her efforts.'

'Okay,' Milo said. 'Let's see what Amelia says. Likewise, I will ensure she receives recognition if she helps Glen return to us.'

Sam jumped to her feet. 'I'm on the case. I'll report back as soon as I can.'

Kate sat inside the control room of the Kalmis Phasewave base and watched Jonas flick through a stack of stored security tapes. She had only one day of her inspection left, and Jonas was making her nervous. Although she was very much aware of his reputation as a bad-tempered bully, she decided it was time to face up to him. 'Why are you so concerned with this Milo character?' she asked. 'He hasn't caused any problems with the Phasewaves, has he?'

'No. The machines are secure; nobody can access them without triggering alarms.'

'So what's bugging you?'

Jonas grunted and ignored the question. 'I think I might just shut down that unit for a couple of days' maintenance. A clean start and diagnostic check should flush out any snags.'

'May I remind you that I am visiting this base as a legal adviser to the Phasewave Company,' Kate said. 'I am required to stress to you that the Company intends to avoid any conflict with the Vennican government for the foreseeable future.'

'Milo busted my balls, and I'm going to settle him,' Jonas said. 'There must be a way.'

'Jonas, we've known each other a long time. When I finish my spell here, I have to submit a report on the governance of this base. Do you want me to highlight the fact that you did not heed my advice and instead continued a pointless feud with the Defence Secretary?'

'I saw Milo's ugly mug on a magazine cover recently. Do we know anyone in the magazine industry?'

Kate walked over and stood in front of Jonas with her hands on her hips. 'You don't get it, do you? The Company wants to avoid publicity at all costs. I should not be telling you this, but the Company is about to make a huge investment in a global project, and it does not want any distractions. Milo is a prominent official and is highly respected, especially after losing his partner. If you start a war with him, I think you will soon be out of a job. I am leaving tomorrow, but before I leave, I will need your assurance that you will not take this vendetta any further. Take time to consider your options.' She walked out of the room.

Jonas continued to scroll through the security footage. Pesky woman, he thought. What did she know about the Company and its political agenda? The Company only rewarded results, not governance. He couldn't wait until she was off the base and back wherever she came from. What was Milo up to? When he found out, he was going to fix Milo for good. What was the name of that magazine? Kate was right about one thing; he shouldn't get involved, but he knew someone who would do it for him. Maybe the magazine would like to find out a bit more about their so-called hero.

#####  Chapter Five

Sam looked around Amelia's living room, the one she had shared with her for years, and felt like a traitor. A picture of flowers on the wall caught her attention – it was the first present she had bought Amelia when they were together. She felt a lump in her throat. What was she doing there?

Amelia entered the room carrying a tray. 'I've made this especially for you – a cup of your favourite herb tea.'

Sam accepted the cup. She had not been back to the house since she had left and gone to live with Will, and the experience was proving to be more uncomfortable than she had anticipated.

Amelia rested her hand on Sam's knee and looked her in the face. 'What is upsetting you?'

Sam gave her a limp smile. 'You know me too well.'

'Is it Will? Are you two having problems?'

'Of course not,' Sam said. 'Well, we don't always agree on everything, but that's normal. Isn't it?'

'I can read you like a book,' Amelia said. 'I always knew that you and Will were not suited to be together. Will wants to run your life, and that is not your scene.'

Sam put on a bright smile. 'Well, what's done is done. It was my choice and I must stick with it.'

Amelia tightened her hold of Sam's knee. 'Sam, you know I would have you back in a heartbeat.'

Sam was taken aback, and then burst into tears. Amelia held Sam in her arms and caught a whiff of her perfume. 'God, I've missed you,' she whispered. 'You crazy woman.'

Amelia let Sam go and watched as she dried her eyes on a tissue.

'I really screwed up, didn't I?' Sam said.

'We're all human,' Amelia responded. She waited until Sam had composed herself. 'But I'm sure you didn't come here just to moan about Will. What's on your mind?'

Sam took a deep breath, focussed on the picture of the flowers and outlined the plan to resurrect Glen from her remains. Then she explained the involvement of an alien and what she wanted Amelia to do. She stopped speaking and looked at Amelia.

Amelia sat in silence and stared back at her.

Sam eventually broke the silence. 'I know it asking a huge input from you, but what do you think?'

'Did you just tell me that I'm going to have to let an alien inside my body?' Amelia asked.

'That's the easy bit. You're then going to have to help that alien recreate Glen's body.'

Amelia remained silent again, and then replied, 'You have completely blindsided me. I don't know what to say.'

Sam's confidence evaporated. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here, and I shouldn't have asked you to do that. Forget everything I just said.'

'Allow me a moment to catch up,' Amelia said. 'Let me ask you a question. Do you actually believe that this alien thing exists and that it has the ability to recreate human life?'

'All I can say is that I have seen and spoken to Glen inside the Phasewave machine, and she and Will have been in contact with the alien. Glen and Milo are also aware that the alien brought an engineer back to life on Bouron after he had been electrocuted. Against all my instincts, I have to say that I do believe that it is possible to resurrect Glen's dead body.'

'You know that I would trust you with my life,' Amelia said. 'If you think this is a viable undertaking, I agree to be part of it.'

Sam felt a flood of relief. 'Thank you, but are you sure you are okay with what I have told you? There is a lot to get your head round.'

Amelia brightened up. 'Look at it this way – how often do you get an offer to work with aliens and dead bodies?'

'I'm serious. This is going to be a very stressful experience. You're going to have to handle a dead body in a very intimate way, and it will be a badly damaged body.'

'Sam, you really know how to pitch a sale. I am aware that I am now starting to sound completely insane, but you must admit that opportunities like this rarely come up.'

'Thank goodness they don't.' Sam still had doubts. 'Are you absolutely sure you understand what you're getting into?'

'A few moments ago, I would have said you were out of your mind. Now, I'm starting to think that I am out of my mind. When do I start?'

Cara picked up her messager and took the call.

'Hi, Cara. It's Al. Just checking on you. What's new?'

'There's been a development,' Cara said. 'I've been contacted by a mystery person in the Phasewave Company. He says that Milo has started making regular visits to the Phasewave base, and he is up to something unusual.'

'He could well be. I've just heard on the grapevine that he's asked for permission to exhume Glen's body.'

'Why would he want to do that?'

'Rumour Control suggests that he is going to carry out a post mortem, but nobody actually knows why that has suddenly become necessary. I'll let you know as soon as the rumours break.'

'I'm off to this new contact of mine for lunch. Our friend Milo is definitely acting out of character, and I intend to be the one breaking the story.'

'Be careful,' Al warned. 'I don't think you should be meeting total strangers on your own. Wait for me and I'll come with you.'

'I can take care of myself. Milo has strung me along, and now it is my turn to pull the string.'

'It looks like Milo's position in this government is becoming precarious. Don't take any unnecessary risks.'

'I won't, and don't worry about me. This whole Milo affair is starting to get interesting.'

Milo, Sam, Will and Amelia entered the tunnel leading from the Phasewave base to Unit Four.

'Thanks for helping us out, Amelia,' Milo said. 'I feel guilty asking a stranger to carry out a task that by rights I should be doing myself.'

'I don't feel like a stranger,' Amelia said. 'Sam has told me so much about you.'

'Don't spill the beans,' Sam interrupted. 'I have to work for Milo.'

'What's this coming up?' Will asked.

A temporary barrier, strung with warning signs, stretched across the tunnel and restricted access to the machine. Will pushed the barrier to one side and entered the unit.

A man in overalls rushed over and confronted him. 'You can't come in here; the unit is undergoing maintenance. Can't you read the signs?'

Milo walked past him and stood next to the machine. 'This machine is evidence in an unsolved crime case. You are not allowed to touch it until it is officially released.'

Another engineer joined them and showed Milo his instructions. 'This machine is about to be shut down and deactivated, pending a maintenance check. The Base Manager is responsible for this machine, not you.'

'I am the Security Secretary,' Milo said, 'and I am over-riding that instruction. This machine is as of this moment under state control. If you attempt to shut it down, you will commit a crime, and I will arrest you.'

'May I remind you that you are on a Phasewave base, which is subject to international law, not Vennican law,' the first engineer said. 'You don't have any authority in here, so move out and let us get on with our work.'

Sam and Amelia went and stood next to Milo.

Sam pulled out her warrant. 'I am an agent for the Security Service, and I will arrest you if you attempt to disable any part of this machine.'

The other engineer went outside the unit and made a call on his messager. He returned to the machine. 'I've spoken to the Base Manager and he is giving you five minutes to leave this unit, or he will send security over and have you physically removed for trespassing on Phasewave property.'

'Wait here,' Will said. 'You men stay well away from the machine while I sort this out with the Base Manager.' Before anyone could stop him, Will rapidly walked out of the unit and headed for the control room.

The two engineers briefly muttered together, and then went to the back of the machine where they stood and glared at Sam and Amelia while Milo guarded the machine.

After sidestepping the Base Manager's secretary at the door, Will stormed into his office and confronted Jonas at his desk.

Jonas recognized Will and stood up. 'Ah, it's Milo's little sidekick. What do you want?'

'Call off your engineers; nobody is allowed to touch Phasewave Unit Four.'

'You mean _my_ Unit Four,' Jonas stressed. 'How dare you burst in here as if you own the place? Go and tell your boss not to send an errand boy to do a man's job,' he sneered.

'Before opening your big mouth,' Will said, 'first make sure it's not connected to your arse-hole.'

Jonas strode around his desk and fronted up to Will. 'You little prick. I think I might have to teach you some manners.'

'I very much doubt it. You are long in talk and short in action.'

Jonas went red in the face. He reached out and poked Will hard in the chest. 'Get out of my office!'

'Do that again, and I'll deck you,' Will said.

'I'd like to see you try.' Jonas again poked Will in the chest.

Will took a step back and then kicked Jonas hard on one shin, followed by right and left punches to his ribs. As Jonas clutched at his sides, Will gripped his shirt and head-butted him in the face. Jonas collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain as blood sprayed from his broken nose. Will took out a handkerchief and wiped blood from his forehead. He squatted on the floor next to Jonas.

'You broke my fucking nose,' Jonas spat.

'Next time I will break your fucking neck,' Will said. He dropped his handkerchief onto the floor. Jonas picked it up and held it to his face, trying to quench the blood flowing out of his nose.

'Listen carefully,' Will said. 'You are now going to call off your engineers. Nobody is going to going near that unit until we're finished with it, and if you ever try that trick again, I will turn up here with half the Home Guard and shut down the entire base. I will then personally drag you away from here in handcuffs and charge you with obstructing the course of justice. When the Phasewave Company sees you on their media screens being hauled off to prison, I think you can kiss goodbye to whatever career you may have. And if there's any sign of those engineers by the time I return to the Phasewave, I'm going to come straight back here and put you in hospital. It's your choice.'

Will stood up to leave, and then turned back to where Jonas lay groaning on the floor. 'Keep the handkerchief,' he said.

Will left the room, once again sidestepping a white-faced secretary who stood, transfixed, staring at the sight of her bloodstained manager lying on the floor.

Will returned to the Phasewave through the underground passage, where he was pointedly ignored by two engineers who passed him on their way out. He re-joined the others at the machine.

'Those engineers just packed up and left,' Milo said. 'What did you say to Jonas?'

'I explained our position,' Will said, 'and politely asked him to stop messing with us, to which he agreed.'

Milo stared at Will suspiciously.

'Is that blood on your shirt?' Sam asked.

Will looked down at the stains on the front of his shirt. 'It was nothing, just a nose bleed.'

Milo remained unconvinced. 'I'll talk to you later. Right now we have to sort out some important arrangements.'

'If you want to do everything in here, I don't think that you will have any more trouble with the Base Manager,' Will said.

'I'm not sure,' Milo said. 'If we are disturbed, it could disrupt everything. What are your thoughts on carrying out the operation in my apartment?'

'It might be risky taking Glen's body there,' Will said.

'You could use my place,' Amelia offered.

Milo considered his options. 'To be quite honest,' he decided, 'I think it would be just as easy to use this unit. Will, can you contact the alien and inform it that we now have a host for it to occupy.'

Will walked over to the machine and immediately made contact with the alien. He stood quietly while the alien communicated with him. 'Good news,' he said. 'The alien has said if we prefer to carry out the resurrection here, it can take control of all the cameras and security locks in the unit, so we need not worry about being disturbed. It will enter its host shortly before the operation commences and it will also bring Glen's imprint with it.'

Amelia stood in awe, taking everything in and being unable to believe that Will was actually communicating with an alien. Most of the conversation went over her head, but the seriousness of the situation was gradually sinking in, and she was starting to feel apprehensive about her role in the proceedings. She caught Sam's eye and gave her a nervous smile.

Sam walked over and joined her. 'This is it,' she said, indicating the Phasewave. 'What do you think?'

'It's huge,' Amelia replied. 'How am I supposed to make contact with the alien?'

Sam pointed out the metal casing on the front of the machine. 'I haven't seen this done before, but I gather that you place your hands on the casing and the alien will do the rest. The alien has done it before, so the procedure must be safe.'

'You make it sound so easy.'

'Let's hope so,' Sam said.

'Okay everybody,' Milo said. 'I have already arranged to have Glen's body exhumed, ostensibly to carry out an autopsy, and I will bring the body here after we have agreed a time to rendezvous. Does anyone have any questions before we leave?'

Nobody did. Amelia took one last look around and followed Sam out of the unit.

On the way out, Milo took Sam to one side and waited until Amelia was out of earshot. 'Do you think Amelia is up to this?' he asked. 'We're expecting an awful lot of her, and I get the impression that she doesn't really know what is going to happen.'

'Don't worry,' Sam replied, with more conviction than she felt. 'Amelia is a strong person, and if she says she will do something, she will deliver.'

'Should I talk to her?' Milo said.

'I don't think that will be necessary. I will take Amelia through the whole procedure before we start; she is a quick learner, and soon she is going to be way ahead of us in the alien experience. After this is over, she will have stories to tell which will defy the imagination.'

'That appears to be the recurrent theme where the alien is concerned,' Milo added.

The cruiser set course for the return journey to Kalmis. After some discussion, it was agreed that Glen's restoration process would take place the next day.

'Has anyone got concerns?' Milo asked. 'I know this is short notice for you all, and you haven't had much time to consider your actions, but my main worry is that the Phasewave Company may try to interfere again.'

'I still don't think there is much risk of that happening,' Will said, 'but we ought to act sooner than later before anything else crops up.'

'I have made a list of things we need to take,' Sam said. 'I will sort out a bench and cleaning materials, and Amelia has agreed to provide any medical requirements.'

'I will arrange two larger transporters for the day,' Milo said. 'I will bring Glen's body in one, and we can then travel independently.'

Will looked over at Amelia. 'You are very quiet. How do you feel about all this?'

'Do you want an honest answer?' Amelia said.

'Preferably.'

'Then I have to admit that I'm scared witless.'

The following morning, Will, Sam and Amelia arrived at the Phasewave unit, set up a bench table and covered it with a plastic sheet. Amelia opened a bag she had brought with her and pulled out sterilisation equipment, masks, gloves and gowns, which she laid out on a side table. 'We can't do much more until Milo arrives,' Will said. 'I hope the body is in a reasonable state.'

'What do you want me to do?' Sam asked.

'If this all goes to plan,' Amelia said, 'Glen will need something to cover up with afterwards.'

'I've got blankets with me,' Sam said, 'and I've brought some containers of water.'

Will looked at Amelia, whose face had turned white. 'Are you feeling okay?'

'I'm trying to focus on a time when everything will be over and done with,' Amelia said. 'This situation is unreal.'

'I know what you mean,' Will said encouragingly. 'Sometimes I wonder how we all got mixed up in it.'

The door opened and Milo entered the unit, pushing a gurney. A long package, wrapped in sheets, lay on it.

Milo looked grim. 'This is it,' he said. 'This is all that remains of Glen.'

Will helped Milo lift the package, which was much lighter than he had expected, onto the bench. He could already smell the chemicals that permeated it.

'Are we ready?' Amelia asked.

'I guess so,' Milo said. 'Does everyone know what they are supposed to be doing?'

They all nodded.

'I'm still worried about the length of time we will be in here,' Milo said. 'It is imperative that we are not disturbed.'

'I will keep watch with you and Sam,' Will said. 'Between us we should be able to prevent access to the unit if anyone tries to enter.'

'In that case, I think it is time for Amelia to make contact with the alien,' Milo said.

Amelia apprehensively approached the Phasewave machine and laid her hands on its casing. After a few seconds, she felt a tingling sensation extending up her arms to her elbows. Then it stopped. She released the machine.

'I don't think it worked,' Amelia said. 'I can't feel anything.' Suddenly she let out a cry and, clutching her head, fell to her knees.'

Sam ran to her aid. 'What is it?'

Amelia slowly removed her hands from her head. 'That really hurt,' she said.

'Is the alien inside you?' Sam asked.

'No. I don't think so. All I could see was coloured lights spinning round inside my head. It's now finished.'

Sam helped Amelia to her feet.

Amelia suddenly stopped moving, and her face lit up. 'It's here! The alien is inside me!'

'What does it want?' Sam asked.

'I can't believe I'm talking to an alien! The alien says everything is proceeding as expected, and I am to follow its instructions. The security cameras around the unit are now under its control.'

'Then we should leave,' Milo said. 'We will wait outside; call us if you need anything.'

Milo and Sam departed the room to wait outside in the corridor.

Wearing rubber gloves, gowns and masks, Will and Amelia carefully uncovered the remains of Glen's body, cutting away the shroud and wrappings to reveal a tangle of blackened bones and dark, shrunken lumps of hard flesh. Glen's skull, which was crushed and burnt down one side, was still attached to the body, but was wrapped separately. They extracted bindings and moved various parts of the body around until it loosely resembled a body shape – part skeleton, part charred flesh. The stench of decomposition and chemicals was overpowering.

Will struggled to breathe and more than once started to gag into his mask. He stepped away from the bench and pulled his mask down. 'This is ridiculous,' he said. 'We cannot possibly bring a body in this state back to life.'

'We can't stop now,' Amelia said. 'We can't come this far without giving it our best efforts, and this is probably going to be Glen's only chance of survival.' She stared down at the shape of the disfigured corpse, morbidly fascinated by the whole process. 'I started this, and I will finish it, even if it kills me.'

'I guess you're right,' Will said. He pulled his mask back on, collected all the contaminated trappings and cloths and put them to one side in a large, plastic bag. The human remains, all that was left of Glen, lay on the benchtop, cruelly exposed under the harsh interior lighting.

'It's time for me to leave,' Will said. 'Are you ready?'

Amelia nodded.

Will was desperate to leave the unit, but he saw Amelia's white face behind her mask and knew she was going to struggle without him. 'Would you like me to stay with you?'

Amelia nodded again, unable to speak but grateful for the offer. She approached the table and removed her gloves. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation of what was coming next and caught Will's eye. 'Thank you for staying with me,' she managed to say.

'Good luck,' Will replied. 'I will be here whenever you need me.'

'The alien now wants me to hold the body,' Amelia said. She reached out, grasped a blackened thighbone and again felt the tingling sensation as the alien transferred into the damaged limb. Several times, she relocated her hands to various parts of the remains in response to the alien's instructions, but the corpse did not appear to alter in appearance.

'Nothing is happening,' Will said, after half an hour had passed. 'Is the process working?'

'Yes. The alien says that the major changes in the body will take place towards the end of the procedure when the internal organs become connected. I'm getting cramp, Will. Can you find me a chair?'

Will ran across to a nearby control console and dragged over a chair for Amelia to sit on.

Amelia gratefully sat down and continued to hold the body, changing her grip every now and again as the alien instructed. One hour after commencing the operation, she noticed that the flesh parts of the body were filling out.

Will had seen it too. 'It's changing. Look at that.'

'The flesh colour hasn't altered,' Amelia said. 'I don't suppose it will until blood starts flowing through it.'

They both continued to watch as the flesh slowly expanded, creeping over bones and merging with adjacent areas of new flesh. Amelia rearranged the limbs and gradually the expanding body absorbed them. The body steadily developed until all the limbs had reattached, and Amelia was restricted to reaching inside the chest cavity to access difficult locations. Skin had encircled the neck and blonde hair sprouted from the scalp. Amelia pulled a flap of skin over the body cavity and, for the first time, the body started to look whole.

Amelia pulled off her mask and sat back to rest. 'The alien is now growing the internal organs,' she said. 'It will take a while.'

Gradually the abdomen healed over, and the cavity walls expanded. Then the body started to change colour.

Amelia could not stop herself – she reached out and felt for a pulse. 'Glen is alive!' she cried. 'No, the alien says not quite.'

Suddenly the body moved, and its limbs started to twitch. Glen's skull had filled out and resumed its normal shape and the damaged areas had been restored. Her eyes were open wide but remained sightless, rolling in their sockets independently. A harsh, gasping sound came from the body's mouth, and her hair had grown to its normal full length.

The alien informed Amelia that they were almost there and to hold Glen's head in her hands while it restored her nervous system. Amelia gripped Glen's head tightly and her eyes stopped rolling. She was breathing steadily and her body felt warm to the touch. Amelia checked Glen's pulse again and it felt normal.

Then Amelia stepped away from the body. 'The alien says Glen is now whole and wants us to remain clear until it has administered the imprint.'

After a few minutes, Amelia was asked to hold both sides of Glen's head while the imprint was being transferred. 'Will, the alien is asking you to hold Glen's body down and restrain her arms and legs.'

Will stepped forward and held onto Glen's legs. The body started to jerk and convulse. Will caught Glen's flailing arms and legs while Amelia struggled to restrain her head. Then the body suddenly went limp. Amelia and Will let go and stood back.

'What's happened?' Will said. 'Is she still alive?'

Amelia felt Glen's neck for signs of a pulse. 'Yes, she's still with us, but the alien appears to have gone. I can no longer make contact with it.'

They were looking at each other, wondering what was happening, when Glen startled them by suddenly letting out a groan and moving her arms. She opened her eyes and tried to look around her, but her eyes were not fully synchronised.

'She's alive!' Amelia said. 'It worked.'

'Thank God,' Will said.

Attracted by the sound of voices, Glen made a huge effort and rolled her head to face them. She squinted and tried to focus. 'Is that you, Will?' she asked, in a hoarse voice.

Will stood by her and grasped her hand. 'Yes, it's me. You're back now.'

'I'll stay with Glen while you fetch the others,' Amelia said, taking Glen's other hand.

Will ran from the room to fetch Milo and Sam. By the time they returned, Amelia was supporting Glen in a sitting position, and Glen was looking around, asking where her clothes were.

Milo, with tears running down his face, ran to her and held her in his arms. He was overcome with relief and unable to speak.

Glen focussed on Amelia and asked, 'Who are you?'

Milo managed to find his voice. 'Don't worry; there will be plenty of time to explain these things after we go home.'

Sam wiped Glen's face and neck with a damp flannel and tied back her hair. She then wrapped her in a blanket. After a few minutes, Amelia checked Glen's pulse again. 'Glen's got a solid heartbeat. I think we are done here.'

Milo picked Glen up in her blanket and carried her from the room, while Sam followed them to help load the transporter.

Will sat down on Amelia's chair. 'I don't know about you, but I feel completely shattered.'

'Me too,' said Amelia. 'I never in my wildest imagination thought that would work. Let's pack up and get out of here.'

Will and Amelia gathered all the equipment they had used and stacked it outside the unit's door. Sam returned, and the three of them carried it out to their waiting transporter.

'It looks like our efforts have been worthwhile,' Will said, 'but I must say I am glad to be saying goodbye to this Phasewave base. I never again want to see the insides of a Phasewave machine.'

'I couldn't agree more,' Amelia said. 'I am over all this stuff.'

'You both did well,' Sam said. 'You deserve medals for what you have just done.'

'I'll settle for a stiff drink,' Will said.

After the transporter had been loaded and they had departed for Kalmis, Will and Sam sat in silence, holding hands, while Amelia immediately fell fast asleep with her head on Sam's shoulder.

'Thanks for staying with Amelia,' Sam whispered.

'It was the least I could have done,' Will said quietly. 'This should be a time of celebration, but everything feels very flat. I can't accept what just happened, but I know that I don't want to go through it again.'

'With luck, you'll never have to,' Sam said. 'I think we've just witnessed a truly one-off event.'

Will squeezed Sam's hand and looked her in the eye. 'Are we okay?'

Sam pulled up Will's hand and held it to her lips. 'We're okay,' she said. 'This is definitely going to be a day to remember.'

#####  Chapter Six

That night, Will slept fitfully, unable to rest, but every time he dropped off, he went straight into a dream where he was surrounded by naked corpses. The dawn light was starting to filter into his bedroom when finally gave up and left Sam asleep while he went into the living room next door. He made himself a coffee and sat on a sofa while he tried to think clearly about his next steps, now that Glen, miraculously, had somehow been brought back to life. A noise from the bedroom where Amelia was staying attracted his attention, and he hoped he hadn't woken her up. After the events of the last few days, his thoughts were straying all over the place, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. He went to a locked cupboard, retrieved his remaining Glo-Babe and set it down on a table. It immediately reacted to the interior lighting and burst into life. Will started to feel the customary headache and again cursed his inability to understand what it was trying to do.

Amelia, barefooted and wrapped in a housecoat, appeared next him. Her long coil of dark hair contrasted with her pale features.

'Good morning,' Will said. 'How did you sleep?'

'I've had better,' Amelia said. She caught sight of the Glo-Babe's luminous light display. 'Is that one of those Glo-Babes?'

'Indeed it is,' Will replied. 'This is one of the few examples in Northland outside government control, and it is highly illegal.'

'I've never seen one before. Can I touch it?'

'Of course you can. It is quite harmless.'

Amelia delicately pushed her hand through the display. Suddenly, the Glo-Babe stopped wavering, and its display contracted and darkened. It arched, like a hooded snake, into a spear-like point, aiming at Amelia's face. Amelia stepped away in alarm and then froze. She stayed rigid and closed her eyes. Will felt the buzz of a strong transmission vibrate the inside of his head, and a few moments later, the transmission ceased. Amelia raised her arm again to contact the display, which quivered violently at her touch and then disappeared. Amelia opened her eyes. 'Help me; I'm falling,' she gasped as her legs buckled beneath her.

Will jumped to his feet and helped her to a sofa. 'What happened?'

Amelia took a deep breath. 'You're not going to believe this. I thought that the alien had transferred to Glen, but it was still inside me.'

'What did it do?'

'The alien talked to the Glow-Babe! They had a conversation!'

'Do you know what it was about?'

Amelia shook her head in amazement. 'Everything happened so quickly. These Cromite things are alive. They are over three hundred million years old and are the remains of an ancient civilisation. Their planet faced destruction, so they assumed crystalline form and travelled through space inside a hollow asteroid to search for a suitable environment where they could revert to their original physical state and live normally again.'

'What else did you find out about the Cromite?'

'Only that the crystal's display is its method of communication, and they all act as one body. When their existence is threatened, they fuse together for protection, producing intense heat in the process. That is how the fires started in Southland. Those fires have now flared up again, and this time the crystals have changed into another type of Cromite which burns even hotter and is immune to the dummy crystals that were used to put out the original fires.'

'I knew that there was more to Cromite than meets the eye,' Will said, 'but in what way has the alien become involved?'

'I am unaware of the alien's intentions, but it must have had something in mind when it contacted the Cromite.' Amelia pulled her coat around her. 'It's getting cold in here,' she said. 'Is the heating on?'

The room temperature started to drop noticeably, causing Will to walk to the wall and check the climate controller. 'This appears to be working okay,' he said. 'A cold spell must have kicked in. It will soon sort itself out.'

Sam joined them in the living room. 'What's going on?' she said. 'It's freezing in the bedroom.'

'The air conditioning must have gone on the blink,' Will said. 'I'll turn it off at the main switch.'

Sam yawned. 'What are you early birds up to at this time in the morning?'

'Something crazy has happened,' Amelia said. 'The alien has been in contact with the Cromite.'

Sam's eyes opened wide. 'Is the alien here?'

Amelia started to reply, but was interrupted by a message from the alien. 'The alien wants the Cromite put on the floor,' she said.

Will picked up the bowl containing the crystal and placed it on the floor. 'I wonder why it wants that?' he said. He started to shiver. 'The temperature is still dropping.'

A thin spiral of vapour coiled up out of the Cromite crystal. The three of them watched in amazement as the shape writhed and waved and twisted into a dark shape – a human shape! From nowhere, a human being appeared before them. But it was more like a statue – dark in colour and lacking eyes, mouth or hair, and was androgynous, without genitalia.

Amelia held up her hand. 'The alien is talking to me, and it wants me to repeat what it is saying. Here goes – "I have merged with the Cromite and am preparing it for transition to a physical form. What you see before you is the chosen model of an exoskeleton shape that has been perfected over thousands of years. This exoskeleton now contains the Cromite, but in the future, it will be adapted in different ways to co-exist with a human population. Observe carefully what is about to take place.' Amelia lowered her hand. 'That is all the alien had to say.'

The statue started to expand. Eyes and a mouth formed, the skin changed colour and hair sprang from its head. It then shrank, developed breasts and as they watched, turned into a young woman. They all stood transfixed. It was a recognisable woman – it was Glen! But it was a much younger Glen, with clear eyes and flawless features.

The woman spoke to them in an unfamiliar, metallic voice. 'I will be known as Haq, the first of the New Life. My kind will inhabit your planet. What would you like to know?'

Sam, Amelia and Will stared at each other in disbelief.

Eventually, Amelia asked if she could touch the woman.

'Of course,' Haq said.

Amelia walked to the naked figure and ran her hands over its body. She observed that its flesh had a human texture and felt quite natural. The exoskeleton beneath consisted of firm, tubular structures and was lacking any form of bone formation. She asked Haq to turn around and observed that her movements were normal.

Sam eventually found her voice. 'We must find some clothes for you.' She guided Haq to the bedroom next door.

Will and Amelia stared at each other. 'This is completely bizarre,' Will said. 'I don't know whether I am dreaming or not.'

'This is not what I expected,' Amelia said. 'That woman standing there looked like Glen's younger sister.'

'I don't understand what is going on, but I need to tell Milo. I will ask him round to meet Haq.'

'Don't let him bring Glen,' Amelia warned, 'I don't think she will be ready for this, at least not yet.'

Amelia went to help Sam in the bedroom while Will called Milo from his study.

The three women returned to the living room. Haq, wearing one of Sam's dresses and Amelia's shoes, looked like a normal human being.

Will re-joined them.

'Did you manage to contact Milo,' Sam asked.

'Yes. He wasn't happy leaving Glen alone, but I managed to persuade him to come. I told him he was going to get the surprise of his life.'

'I wouldn't challenge that statement,' Sam said.

Will turned to Haq. 'May I ask a question?' he said.

'Certainly,' Haq replied.

'Why have you adopted the physical appearance of Glen Sommers?'

'My creation is an experiment,' Haq replied. 'The physical form of the person you refer to as Glen was chosen because the alien had retained its DNA from a previous rebuild. Future models will be copied from other DNA to allow individual models of the New Life to blend into the general population of this planet.'

'How many of these people do you plan to create?' Will said.

'We are not creating people; we are creating shells for the Cromite to live in. Approximately half a million Cromite crystals are waiting to take part in the Transition.'

'Why would they want to do that? What are your long-term plans?'

'The Cromite has waited hundreds of millions of years for this moment. We do not have any plans beyond the Transition.'

Sam asked, 'Can we get you anything? Are you hungry?'

'I do not need sustenance. I extract energy from light and my surroundings.'

'Is that why the temperature in the room dropped immediately prior to your creation,' Will asked.

'Yes. The energy required for the transition process is pulled from the atmosphere.'

'I have asked a senior person to come round and meet you,' Will said. 'His name is Milo.'

'I am already acquainted with Milo,' Haq replied.

The four of them sat down and waited for Milo to arrive.

The lift bell chimed, and Will leapt to his feet. He greeted Milo at the door. 'Be prepared for a shock,' he said. 'The alien has merged with the Cromite and has created a human being.'

Milo stared at him, open-mouthed. 'What did you just say?'

'I'm being serious. In the next room is an artificially created human being called Haq, but the alien has based it on Glen.'

Milo was completely confused. 'I'd better take a look for myself.'

'Okay, but expect to be surprised.'

Milo entered the room with Will and his first glance revealed three women sitting on a sofa in an otherwise unoccupied room. It did not appear to be an unusual situation. He carefully checked the room without finding anything untoward, but when he looked back at its occupants, he saw Glen on the sofa. His heart missed a beat, and he did a double take. One of the women was Glen, only a much younger version of her.

The woman rose to her feet. 'Greetings Milo,' said the metallic voice. 'My name is Haq. My creator has met you before.'

Haq extended her hand. Milo automatically shook it, immediately recalling the time he and Glen first met.

'I know this must be difficult for you,' Haq said. 'I am an experiment, the first of its kind. Glen's DNA was used to create this model because it was all that was available at the time.'

Milo nodded. 'You caught me by surprise, and I apologise for my lack of courtesy. Tell me, what is the purpose of this experiment?'

'I am the prototype for a future generation: the New Life. The alien and the Cromite have produced a physical form acceptable to both of them.'

'What can we do for you?'

'I am the spokesperson for the New Life,' Haq said. 'Once I have agreement on certain matters, I will give instructions for the fires in Southland to stop.'

'May I ask what those matters are?' Milo said.

'We wish to be accepted by and live alongside the population of this planet. That is all. Once we have agreement of your government, the fires will extinguish, and your planet will be safe.'

'And may I ask what will happen if our government does not agree to that condition?'

'The fires will burn, uncontained, until your planet becomes uninhabitable. There is no way you will ever be able to control them. Perhaps I should leave the room while you discuss the events that have taken place so far. I will wait at the location where these clothes came from.' Haq left the room.

Milo did not know what to do. He looked blankly at the others. 'Am I correct in thinking that this transition just took place here, inside this room?'

'Yes,' Will said. 'Unknown to Amelia, the alien was still inside her. We were both watching a Glo-Babe display when the alien made contact with it. It seems that the alien has finally assumed physical form by joining up with the Cromite, which was seeking the same thing. Did Haq say that there are half a million of these creatures waiting to inhabit our planet?'

'Yes, but that cannot happen,' Milo said. 'There is no room on Vennica for a sudden influx of that many occupants. What does Haq's body consist of?'

'I have touched Haq,' Amelia said. 'Her flesh felt like a normal human being's, but I couldn't detect any bones. Her insides were pumped up with fluids, and whatever passed as joints appeared to function normally.'

'According to Haq,' Sam added, 'they don't need anything in the way of food or water, so they should not cause much harm to the environment.'

'Can you imagine the political shock when the planet finds out what is happening?' Milo said. 'More to the point, how are we going to take this further? Who will believe us if we tell them what we have just seen? Do we really expect anyone to accept that the Glen clone was created in this apartment?'

'Let's go back a stage,' Will said. 'At some point, you will have to reintroduce Glen to society, so how are going to convince your friends and colleagues that she has actually returned from the grave? If you can convince them to accept that premise, you should have no problems introducing the concept of the New Life.'

'I have given no thought at all to that situation,' Milo said. 'So far, I have just been thankful that Glen is alive and back with us.'

'We have to go public with everything that has taken place,' Amelia said. 'This is too big an event to hide.'

'I can't envisage that happening any time in the near future,' Milo said. 'We must try to contain what has just happened and not let it anywhere near the public domain.'

'I agree with Amelia,' Sam said. 'This has been a significant event like no other in recorded history, and the New Life is expecting us to put their request to the government. If we don't, they could go ahead with the Transition regardless, and then, faced with the prospect of a polluted planet, what would we do?'

'Let me recap,' Will said. 'If my understanding is correct, when Jenna came back from Bouron with the alien and tried to tell her story, nobody was willing to listen to her. Since then, the alien has been involved in thwarting a Colonial invasion, resolving the fires in Southland, resurrecting a deceased person, and merging with another alien life form. So far, the alien has done everything it can to help us and has done nothing to harm us. Let's put this alien back on the agenda and go public. Glen has now returned from the grave and has acquired a younger sister, Haq, who, complete with alien and Cromite, is here and now in this building with us. Sam and Amelia are correct; this has become too big to hide. News of this event is certain to leak out, whether we like it or not.'

Milo still had misgivings. 'Let's assume that we agree to go down that road. How exactly are we going to reveal this New Life form to the government? I can tell you from experience that the government's first reaction will be to reject the New Life's request to be accepted as part of the Vennican population. If the government then perceives it is being threatened by the New Life, it will react in the only way it knows – by using force against it. The government does not understand how close we came to destruction when we were faced with the first round of fires; it will now assume that shutting down the fires again will be a mere formality, and I doubt that they will listen to us.'

'Whatever we decide, we must get it right first time,' Will said. 'We will probably only get this one opportunity.'

'How about starting with a high-level presentation to a select few?' Sam said. 'We would obviously have to include the President.'

'That sounds a sensible start,' Milo said. 'By doing that, we should be able to judge what kind of reaction we might expect when we later present to the public. Which of us do you think should be involved in the presentation?'

Nobody responded.

'Any takers?' Milo asked. 'Will, have you any suggestions.'

'I'm not sure,' Will said. 'I think that you should introduce the subject and then possibly bring in Haq.'

'I think we should leave Haq until the last,' Sam said. 'It would be more effective if she ends up explaining any queries.'

'Which leaves us with the Glen conundrum,' Milo said. 'Her appearance will certainly cause a stir.'

'Then how about this?' Will said. 'Milo kicks off, and then Glen is introduced and explains her position. Her unannounced presence would definitely draw the audience's attention and set the tone for the rest of the presentation. After that, Haq can cover the additional explanations of aliens and Cromite.'

'And what if they don't believe Glen?' Milo asked.

'If that happens, I think we will have lost our case,' Will replied, 'and that will introduce a whole host of additional problems. Leaving that scenario aside for the moment, I suggest that after Haq has done her bit, she could take part in an open question and answer session.'

'Acceptance of Glen's and Haq's explanations is essential,' Sam added. 'It is the only way the new fires in Southland are going to be extinguished.'

'I have been meaning to ask you about that.' Milo said. 'Haq mentioned a new round of fires, but that was the first I heard of them. When did they start?'

'I picked up a future transmission and knew that the fires would restart at some time,' Will said.

'You should have told me.'

'I had no timescale, and at the time you had more important problems to address. I only got confirmation that they had started up again from Amelia tonight after she had communicated with the alien, and we both heard Haq link them to the agreement of her conditions.'

'That's true,' Amelia said, 'only this time the fires will burn hotter and the crystals will be immune to the machines we used on the previous outbreak.'

Will turned to Milo. 'So it looks like those machines, which I apparently made, are now history,' he said jokingly.

Milo saw the humour in the situation and laughed. 'Round one to you, Will. Well, if our plan works and the New Life is accepted, the Cromite will shut down the fires and we won't have any further involvement.'

'Is there anything else we need to cover?' Sam asked

'I don't think so,' Milo said. 'At the presentation, however, I suggest we keep the explanations as simple as possible and stick to aliens and Cromite. I don't think including Jenna's presence is going to help us in any way.'

'What are we going to do about Haq,' Amelia said.

Milo turned to Will. 'It looks like you have an unexpected guest. First thing this morning, I will meet the President and arrange a presentation to take place as soon as possible. Can you keep Haq out of sight until then?'

'We'll take care of her,' Will said. 'It looks like this is going to be another interesting day.'

#####  Chapter Seven

Milo, Glen and Haq entered the government building through a passage leading from the underground auto park. Glen and Haq were wearing coats with turned-up collars, and their faces were concealed behind scarves and dark glasses. Milo led the way to the back entrance of the government war room, where guards allowed them inside and locked the door behind them. They all sat on a bench behind the podium and listened as the President, Victor Harrington, prepared to address the room. Twelve senior members of the government and armed forces stared at them with open curiosity.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' Victor began. 'We are here tonight to witness a presentation from Milo de Villiers. I am not privy to what you are about to see and hear, but I believe some of the content will surprise you. The room is now in lockdown, and I don't need to tell you that anything you hear and see tonight must stay within this room. Over to you, Milo.'

Milo took the podium. 'I must first warn you that tonight you will be confronted with information that will seriously test your powers of reason, but I urge you to maintain open minds. Even as we speak, the re-emergence of uncontrollable fires in Southland is again threatening the destruction of our planet. Those events are also about to lead to a quantum change in our civilisation and society. To start, I would like you to give your full attention to someone you once knew and loved, as did I.'

A woman stood up from a bench at the back of the room. She removed her coat, headscarf and glasses and strode to the podium. A collective gasp sounded throughout the room as the assembled members recognised Glen.

Glen's voice was high-pitched and nervous when she started reading from a prepared speech. 'I owe all of you an explanation, which I know you are going to find difficult to accept. Some time ago, I was involved in a fatal auto crash, and now I have been brought back to life. For the moment, I ask you to bear with me while I make this presentation, which concerns events that will have far-reaching effects on all of society, and afterwards, I will give you a full account of what happened to me. You all will remember rumours of an alien presence on Bouron and that the alien was brought to Vennica. Milo and I worked on that investigation, and those rumours were true; an alien was here, and two years later, that alien was responsible for detecting and defeating the Colonial invasion of Vennica. The alien later returned and produced the machines that extinguished the fires in Southland. The Cromite crystals we are preparing to use as a source of fuel in our power stations are not inert crystals – they are the remains of an advanced and intelligent civilisation that has spent over three hundred million years travelling through space inside an asteroid, seeking a new destination where they could live and revert to their original form. That event has now happened. A new species has evolved, and it is willing to assist us in extinguishing the fires that have re-started in Southland.'

Glen turned and beckoned to the bench, where another woman removed her disguise and joined Glen at the podium. The room boiled into questioning voices when they observed another, younger version of Glen take the stage.

'This is my guest,' Glen said.

'My name is Haq,' the woman said. The room fell silent when its occupants heard Haq's metallic voice reverberate around the room. 'I am the first of the New Life. The Transition has commenced.'

'Let me explain,' Glen interrupted. 'The Cromite crystals have merged with the alien to create a new physical form that satisfies both their requirements. This entity is entirely peaceful and means you no harm. It has adopted the human shape as being the most satisfactory of all evolved life forms so far and wishes to live amongst us as a member of our community.'

A deathly silence greeted Glen's words.

'There are approximately half a million Cromite crystals about to take Transition,' Glen continued, 'so I am asking you to do all you can to assist them. Haq will now answer any questions you may have. Please feel free to approach her.'

The members in the audience looked at each other in stunned silence.

Questions came all at once. A government minister asked Haq why she looked like Glen. The head of the armed forces asked how the Cromite had arrived, and another minister was curious as to where the alien had been living all this time. Haq started to answer the questions but objecting voices forced her to stop. Arguments welled up around the room, drowning out Haq's explanations.

Eventually, the uproar forced Victor back to the stage. 'I think we need a little time on our own to discuss this. Milo, may I ask that the two ladies involved leave the chamber.'

Haq and Glen collected their belongings and left the room. Milo took the stage again and the room erupted into forceful arguments. He tried to address his main concern, which was that without the cooperation of the New Life, the situation with the fires would escalate, and the forces would be unable to combat them, but others shouted him down and demanded to know what effect such a large number of aliens would have on the planet. Milo realized that he was going to have a fight on his hands. There was a suggestion that Haq should be restrained in quarantine until doctors had examined her, and if she really was an alien, there could be a threat to public health.

'You cannot control Haq,' Milo said. 'It is too late for that. She has the power and intelligence of two alien life forms, and you will not be able to restrain her against her will. As we speak, fires are burning again in Southland, and this time they are burning hotter and are impervious to the machines we used to extinguish them last time. We need to convince Haq that the population of Vennica will accept her species before she issues the order for the Cromite fires to cease. Without her help, this whole planet will become uninhabitable within two years. It is my genuine belief that this species does not pose a threat; it asks nothing from us other than our acceptance because it is already far more advanced than the human race. We can learn much from this experience, but what we cannot do is ignore the presence of an alien life form, as we did the first time the alien was brought to Vennica. You have already seen the damage the fires can do; initially, the Cromite only did that as a defensive measure to save its species, but when we decided to burn the crystals as a source of cheap energy, it took that action to a much more serious level, a level which we are unable to control on our own.'

The Vice-President, Warren Hall, asked a question, 'Would this transition restrict the supply of the Cromite crystals for the power stations?'

'Yes,' Milo confirmed. 'They would no longer be available.'

'Are you aware that the government has just signed off on a massive investment by a consortium headed by the Phasewave Company to build power stations throughout the planet specifically to burn Cromite?' Warren asked. 'The government will incur huge damages if it decides to cancel the project.'

'I know nothing about a power station project,' Milo replied. 'I can only repeat that we are not dealing with a fossil fuel; we are dealing with a living organism.'

'Then you can forget about this New Life idea,' Warren replied. 'Affordable power must be our number one priority.'

'Haq should be removed from Vennica and restrained with the rest of her kind,' someone suggested. 'This whole Cromite thing must be moved out of harm's way before it does any damage.'

'Haq is the first and only one of her species,' Milo pointed out. 'She doesn't have anywhere to go to, and the damage is already being done.'

Victor stood up and brought the arguments to a halt. 'We are not getting anywhere. I have now decided that this person, or whatever she is, called Haq, must be held in quarantine for medical checks and tests. I will then form a steering group to examine the practicalities of accepting the new species, whilst considering at the same time the wider requirements of the Power Project. Overriding everything, however, is the need to establish that this new species or life form does not pose a threat to the well-being of our society.'

Milo faced his opponents. 'We do not have time to do any of those things. If we decide against accepting this life form, we could lose our planet. All through the ages, humankind has sought proof that alternative life forms may have existed in other universes at other times, without success. Now we have that proof, in fact, we have now found two life forms. Do not put commercial interests ahead of science. If you don't believe what we have told you, how do you explain Glen returning from the dead?'

The Home Secretary, Dan Carling, interjected, 'We only have your word that Glen was dead. You recently moved a body from your family grave, so will you explain to us why that body was removed and what happened to it? Nobody can accept that a dead body can possibly be brought back to life after being interred for months. The only reason you removed that body was to destroy evidence, evidence of something that you were trying to hide.'

'I can only offer you the truth,' Milo said. 'I have nothing else to offer.'

'You are biased in your thoughts and actions,' Dan responded. 'Glen was not dead; that was all a show. Nothing you have offered us today would stand up in any court of law, and you cannot expect us to believe that Glen was dead when she was obviously alive and standing before us. As for her relative who goes by the ridiculous name of Haq, who are you trying to kid?'

Milo was furious and struggled to control himself.

'I think you should now leave the room, Milo,' Victor said. His aide called security and instructed them to arrest the person called Haq and to escort Milo from the building.

As they drove away from the government building, Milo was seething, and Glen was distraught.

'That was more than a disaster,' Milo said. 'It was a full-blown catastrophe. We have frittered away our only chance to bring those people on board.'

'Things are going from bad to worse,' Glen said. 'I don't know how we can recover from this situation.'

Milo shrugged. 'The only thing we can do is pray for a miracle.'

'We need more than a miracle,' Glen said. 'We should have known that nobody would believe that stuff about dying and being reborn. Did you see the looks on their faces? Everyone in that room blanked me. They hated me, and I have now been erased from society as if I never existed. To all intents and purposes, I may as well have stayed dead. Right now, I wish I were dead.'

Milo and Glen met up again with Will and Sam inside Milo's apartment later that night.

'I have to say that the meeting this evening was an absolute calamity,' Milo announced. 'There appears to be no support for our side because nobody believes that Glen died and that her body was reconstructed. She has now been ostracised by the people attending the presentation, who believe that Haq is one of her relatives. Where do we go from here?'

'Surely any tests on Haq will reveal immediately that she is not human,' Will said.

'I'm not so certain,' Milo said. 'From my previous experiences in the Security Service, I think that the results of any tests carried out are more than likely to be influenced by government policies, and the truth will end up being buried. That is exactly what happened to Jenna when she first tried to tell us about the alien. Now, too many commercial interests are involved to allow an unbiased investigation, and the Vice President is obviously on their side. I have only just found out that the Phasewave Company is heading a large consortium that has been contracted to build power stations around the planet in order to burn the Cromite crystals. It is a huge investment, and they are obviously prepared to lobby long and hard to retain their supply of Cromite.'

'The fires in Southland are now receiving publicity, and questions are being asked on media why the government is not responding,' Sam said. 'The planet is again under threat, and if the fires continue to spread, the government will eventually be forced to act.'

'I will try to contact Haq,' Will said. 'Do we know where she is being held?'

'No, I have been removed from that loop,' Milo said.

'What good would come from contacting Haq,' Glen asked resignedly. 'She is even less popular than me right now.'

'It's late, and we need a break to think up something new,' Milo said. 'Let's try to get some sleep and meet again tomorrow.'

Cara had finished her morning shower and was about to get dressed when her messager sounded. She answered the call. 'Hi, Al. What gives?'

'Take a seat. I've just arrived at work, and rumours that Glen Sommers is still alive are flying around the government offices.'

'Didn't Milo just dig up her body?'

'Yes, and last night an ultra-secret meeting took place in the war room. The whole building went into lockdown. Milo entered through the back security entrance and brought two women with him. Their faces were hidden, but one of the security guards got a look at them as they climbed out of the auto. The guard knows Glen and swears that one of them was definitely her and that she was deliberately trying to hide her face. There are numerous confidential meetings going on as we speak; this place is buzzing with activity.'

'If that's true, where has she been hiding all this time, and whose body did Milo take?'

'At the moment I don't have any more information, but something big is brewing in the background, and it all started yesterday when Milo called for an urgent meeting.'

'This should be worth waiting for,' Cara said.

'A story this big should soon leak, so I'll keep you posted. Has your Phasewave contact come up with anything on Milo yet?'

'No. I went to meet him for lunch and he never showed up. I think he must have changed his mind, and I got nothing from him. Stay in touch.'

#####  Chapter Eight

Milo was in a foul mood when he responded to the President's request and visited his office. Victor nodded to him and told him to sit down.

'What do you want from me?' Milo demanded.

'You can start by not speaking to me in that tone of voice,' Victor replied. 'Right now there is an arrest warrant for you lying on my desk, so I suggest you change your attitude and listen to what I have to say.'

Milo managed to control his anger and remained silent.

'There has been a development in this alien saga.' Victor switched on a recorder and images flashed up onto a screen.

'What is this about?' Milo asked.

'Watch and you will find out.'

The screen focussed on a table in the centre of a brightly lit room. Milo at first assumed it was filmed inside a hospital and then worked out that he was looking down on a mortician's slab. Parts of a body were strewn about the worktop. The camera zoomed into what appeared to be hollowed-out limbs and a body cavity. Liquid was oozing across the sloped surface of the worktop and dripping into a drain at its base, and both legs looked as though they were melting. The camera moved up to a skull and Milo found himself looking into Glen's sightless eyes. He immediately knew that the remains lying on the slab had once belonged to Haq. Haq was dead and an autopsy had been performed.

'What happened to her?' Milo asked.

'Last night, Haq was being subjected to medical tests to determine whether she posed a biological threat to our environment. At some point, she simply died, and her body started to dissolve. She was opened up to see if she could be saved, which is when the team confirmed that they were looking at an unknown, alien life form. The laboratory was then evacuated and sealed.'

'Was there any contamination?'

'Not that I have been made aware of. The body, if that was what you could call it, had no biological content, but the medical team took all precautions and confirmed that there was no threat of contamination. The body in the video, by the way, was slowly turning to liquid.'

'What have you learnt from that exercise?'

'I have learnt that there is now a dead alien life form in our midst.'

'So you now accept that Haq was an alien?'

'Yes, and her death was a tragedy, but I do not believe any protocols were broken by the medics. Her death was sudden and unexpected – all they had done was carry out was a body scan.'

'Did that reveal anything?'

'She had no skeleton. That is all they found.'

Milo pondered the situation. 'We have now killed off our first official contact with an alien life form. I hope you are pleased with yourself. Now, what is this nonsense about an arrest warrant?'

'Your attitude right now is definitely not helping you,' Victor said, 'and if you intend to maintain it, I will sign the warrants for your and Glen's arrests immediately and have you both detained.'

'What has this got to do with Glen?'

'The two of you are suspected of being implicit in the death of an unknown woman who was killed in Glen's auto. Glen disappeared from public view at the same time as that accident, and later you removed a body from your vault, citing the requirement for an autopsy. Now, Glen has suddenly reappeared, and the body is nowhere to be found, yet you sit in front of me pretending to be offended.'

'The body can be accounted for.'

'Your family vault was opened this afternoon and its contents checked. A body registered as Glen Sommers was missing.'

'I am the Security Secretary. Who gave permission for my vault to be opened?'

'I did. You may not wish to believe this, but there are people out there looking for your head on a plate, and most of them attended Glen's funeral. This story is no longer about a dead alien; it is about you and Glen and a missing corpse.'

'Are you sure that this is not just a diversion by your ministers to shut down the alien episode and use the Cromite in the new power stations?'

'There is unanimous concern within the government that you have acted outside your authority. Your actions, I must concur, have not been befitting an official of your rank.'

'Let me explain ...'

Victor held up his hand. 'Whatever you intend to say, do not insult my intelligence by suggesting that Glen came back from the dead.'

'What else can I say? That is what happened.'

'Milo, right now I am probably the only ally you have. You are a wanted man, and if you are hell-bent on sticking to that ridiculous story, I will not be able assist you. Unless you can persuade me otherwise, I will now enact your arrest warrants.'

'Wait. Please,' Milo stammered, while he tried to collect his thoughts. 'Give me some time. I need to work on this. I know the story I gave sounds lame. Will you allow me one more attempt to prove our innocence?'

Victor thought long and hard. 'Milo, I have always considered you to be a man of integrity, but you appear to have gotten yourself into an unholy mess. However, in spite of all that I have just said, I am prepared to help you. If you give me your word that you will not attempt to escape the course of justice, I will allow you until midnight tomorrow to report to the Security Service, where you and Glen will be placed under arrest and charged in connection with that auto crash and destruction of a body.'

'I do give my word.'

'Very well, you may now leave, but you are required to be bound to an agent of the Police or Security Service who will be responsible for your adherence to those terms. Do you have anyone in mind that could fill that role?'

Milo tried to think of who would be available for the next day. 'What about Sam Sergeant? She is already working for me on this case.'

'Isn't she Brad Shipley's niece? I thought she was with the Home Office.'

'She used to be, but she is now a warranted agent for the Security Service. May I use her?'

'If that is your preferred option, it is acceptable to me. Tonight, you must advise Sam of your position, and in the morning I will arrange for her to be electronically authorised.'

'Thank you,' Milo replied. 'I hope that I can find a way to explain what has happened.'

'So do I. A final word of advice – do not under any circumstances try to convince me or anyone else who was in that room during the presentation that Glen came back from the dead. If you do, you will be on your own.'

Later that night, Milo and Glen arrived at the marina tower block and joined Will in his apartment. Sam and Amelia were already discussing with Will the possibility of another presentation.

Milo addressed the others. 'Before we go any further, I have some bad news for you. Haq is dead, and an arrest warrant has been issued for Glen and me, which will be enforced at midnight tomorrow. Sam, I am now bound to you and tomorrow you will receive your authorisation. At midnight, you must arrest Glen and me and take us to the Security Service headquarters.'

A stunned silence greeted Milo's words.

'Is this a sick joke?' Sam asked.

'I wish it were,' Milo replied.

'What are they charging you with?' Will asked.

'Nobody, including the President, will accept the fact that Glen actually died. There was more, a lot more, but I haven't time to go into it.'

'What brought this on?' Sam asked.

'My interpretation is that certain factions of the government want to close down the Transition process and allocate the Cromite crystals to the Power Project, where they will be used to fuel the new power stations. I opposed that plan, and those factions now want me out of the way. That may or may not be true, but we desperately need to think of a way out of this situation, and we have only one day to do so.'

'What happened to Haq?' Will asked.

'I saw video of her body. The President says she suffered an accidental death while she was being examined by his medical staff. He said no-one is to blame, but at least he now accepts that Haq was an alien and that she posed no threat to the environment.'

'That's a shame,' Will said. 'We were working on an alternative presentation involving Haq to clear up any misunderstandings.'

'Subject to Victor's approval, I've just about time to make one presentation tomorrow. We need to bring back the alien topic, but I will not be allowed to refer to Glen's resurrection. That is definitely a "no".'

'So how are we going to resolve Glen's return?' Sam asked.

'I have no idea,' Milo said. 'I will have to address that problem later, but without being able to prove what happened to Glen, it is going to be very difficult.'

Will thought for a moment. 'We do have proof, of a sort.'

'What is that?' Milo asked.

'Well, as I see it, the issue is whether the body you took from the vault and repaired was Glen's. If we can match DNA samples from the body with Glen's, there should be no issue.'

'How can we achieve that when the body itself has just been brought back to life in Glen's original form?'

'We could use samples from the body you took from your vault.'

'That body no longer exists.'

'Correct, but samples could be taken from the shroud and windings that Amelia and I removed from the body before she worked on it. There was a lot of residue from the body on those materials, and they are bound to provide adequate samples of DNA.'

'Unfortunately, we destroyed all those items,' Sam said. 'There was nothing left after we cleaned up.'

'We are in luck,' Will said. 'You gave me the bags containing contaminated materials, and I temporarily hid them in my basement storage area until I could take them into the desert and burn them. They are still there.'

'I think that might just be our salvation,' Milo said, cheering up slightly. 'Make sure that those samples don't become mislaid, and we'll definitely revisit this subject later. Let's stay on target for the moment and concentrate on tomorrow's presentation.'

'We'll do our best for you both,' Will said. 'Before we go any further, can anyone tell me the whereabouts of the alien?'

'I assumed that the alien had transferred into Glen when it resurrected her body,' Amelia said, 'so I was surprised to find that it had stayed inside me without my knowledge. I only discovered it by accident when it contacted the Glo-Babe.'

'Well, I'm pretty sure it's not in me anymore,' Glen said. 'If it is, it has certainly not made its presence obvious.'

'Why are you so concerned about contacting the alien again?' Glen asked. 'What can the alien do that we have not already tried?'

'I don't know,' Will said, 'but we are running out of time and ideas, and the alien might be able to offer us a lifeline. We know that at one time it was in the Phasewave machine with Glen; is it possible that it could still be there?'

'It might be worth a try,' Milo said. 'Right now we should be considering all our options.'

'Then why don't I take Amelia to the Phasewave to see if we can make contact? Will said. 'We can go first thing in the morning.'

'This is becoming a regular haunt of mine,' Will commented as he opened the door into Unit Four. 'I never thought I would come here again.'

'I feel as though I am trespassing,' Amelia said. 'I can't help thinking of the last time we came here and worked on the body.'

Will stopped in front of the machine. 'This is it. Let's see if I can make contact.' He reached out to place his hands on the machine, but before he managed to touch it, the alien made contact with him.

'I'm now in touch with the alien and am asking it for assistance,' Will said.

'What is it saying? Amelia asked.

'Just a moment.' Will listened while the alien responded to his request. 'The alien says it no longer wants to be involved with the human race. It is concentrating on developing the Cromite's potential.'

'Tell it that unless the fires in Southland are controlled, our planet will become uninhabitable,' Amelia said. 'Tell it we need its help.'

'The alien says that the Cromite will not find the planet uninhabitable; it would actually prefer a warmer climate. Due to the hostility that greeted Haq after her creation, and following her death, the Cromite would prefer not to share this planet with the human race. Cromite has no need of organic resources, so it would make no difference if the planet were to be devoid of life.'

'Ask it what will happen now?' Amelia asked.

Will held up his hand. 'The alien says if you want to talk to it, address me and it will read my mind. I will relay its answers.'

'Okay. What are you doing now?'

'I am preparing the Cromite for the Transition. Once started, the process will be unstoppable, and the human race, as always, has again pressed its self-destruct button. Nothing you can do will prevent the Transition from taking place or the loss of the planet.'

'Not all humans are hostile,' Amelia said. 'Milo tried to help you, but he was over-ruled. Haq's death was accidental; the doctors were examining her as a safety precaution, but something went wrong. The President has now allowed Milo another chance to present the case, but his opponents want to burn the Cromite in power stations. Whatever the outcome, more Cromite is going to suffer at the hands of ignorant humans before this affair is over.'

'Then what would you suggest?'

Will picked up the conversation. 'You have helped us many times in the past, and with your assistance, we hope to be able to come up with a workable plan to support Milo's case.'

'Come into me again,' Amelia said, 'and together we will help Milo to gain recognition of the New Life.'

There was a moment of silence before the alien answered.

'Very well, place your hands on the machine casing and I will re-join you.'

#####  Chapter Nine

After returning to Kalmis late in the morning, Amelia and Will attended yet another planning meeting.

'This is our last chance,' Milo said. 'It is imperative that we now produce a fire-proof demonstration confirming the acceptability of the alien and Cromite combination to our opponents. I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave Glen out of it; I don't want to allow my opponents a chance to use her presence to cast doubts about us. This is a win-all situation. With the alien on board, courtesy of Amelia, I think we might be able to come up with something unbeatable, something that cannot be passed off as a mere conjuring trick.'

'What about rebuilding a dead body in full view of witnesses,' Will suggested.

'Oh, that would be too gruesome,' Glen said.

'And it would return everyone's attention to what happened to Glen,' Milo added. 'I don't think it would be acceptable.'

'If the audience was not willing to give Haq a fair hearing, could we not let the alien address them?' Sam said. 'The alien would then have an opportunity to explain what it purports to be?'

'How would the alien be able to address the room?' Milo asked.

'The alien has just acknowledged that it is willing to do so,' Amelia said. 'However, it says it would need to communicate through me, which may not be acceptable.'

'Then why don't we just carry out a repeat of what we saw when the alien created Haq?' Sam suggested. 'It certainly convinced me. We could put on a display for a roomful of top people, and when another version of Haq has been created, the alien could communicate through her and explain everything that is happening. Having seen and heard that, surely nobody could doubt its veracity?'

'I think that might just work,' Milo said. 'Is anyone against it?'

Nobody was.

'We only have this one opportunity,' Will said. 'Are we sure that the creation process is guaranteed to work?'

'Amelia is again carrying the alien,' Milo said, 'so it should not be too difficult. After all, they are talking about producing half a million specimens of the New Life using the same process.'

'What objections are we likely to encounter?' Glen asked.

Milo shrugged. 'The only one I can envisage would be from the Phasewave Company, because I don't think the government will be in a mood to compensate them if the Power Project is cancelled. I think we will have to go down Sam's proposed route; I cannot think of another way.'

'What are you going to do about this arrest warrant?' Sam asked.

'Whatever happens, Glen and I will report to you at midnight, but I have no idea what will happen after that.'

'If you need them, I still have some Glo-Babe samples,' Sam said.

'We will definitely need them,' Milo said. He turned to Glen. 'I hope you don't mind being missed out.'

Glen frowned. 'Don't worry. I have no intention of attending.'

'In that case,' Milo said, 'I will contact the President and ask for another presentation to take place this evening.'

After the others had left the apartment, Milo poured Glen a glass of wine and helped himself to a large whiskey. 'What is your opinion of our plan?' he asked.

Glen shook her head. 'I don't know how that will go down. I still can't believe that we are going to be arrested. What happens next? If we come out with the same story about my dying and being brought back to life, we will both undergo cerebral stimulation and end up brain-dead, even though we will be telling the truth. That's exactly the position Jenna was in when she first reported the alien, and look how that panned out. This time the boot is on the other foot, and we are the ones who will be interrogated. I'm scared, Milo. How are we going to get ourselves out of this mess?'

'All we can do is hope that the presentation tonight works and that the room accepts it.'

'You said the same thing before the last presentation, and look how that turned out.'

'I made a mistake and underestimated the response of the audience,' Milo said. 'Tonight we will go for broke.'

'By starting that presentation, I drew all the attention to myself and the audience completely overlooked the alien side. I blame Will for what happened. It was his idea for me to take the lead; he talked us into it.'

'We all agreed to do the presentation; it wasn't Will's fault.'

'I don't want him involved any more,' Glen said. 'Let's talk about the other and more probable scenario, where you give the presentation and they still don't believe you. What are we going to say when the Security Service questions us? We must at least have a semi-feasible story we can both stick to.'

'I want to leave you out of this altogether,' Milo said. 'This is my fault, and I will take the blame. I will admit to killing someone if it gets you off the hook.'

'Oh yes, you can say you killed Jenna, and I can imagine the following conversation. Did you kill Jenna? Yes, but wasn't the real Jenna; it was just her imprint. So where was Glen during all this time? She was stuck inside a Phasewave machine, living as an imprint. What's an imprint? Are you telling me that you've never heard of an imprint? Milo, have you any idea how incredibly stupid that story sounds?'

'What else can I say? Somehow, I have to make sure I take all the blame.'

'They will not believe you because they will not accept that I was dead, and neither would I if I heard somebody else come out with that story. I need to confess to the authorities that I found out you were having an affair with another woman. I became jealous, killed the other woman and then crashed my auto with her body inside to make it look like an accident. I then set it on fire. You found out and took pity on me, helped me escape and convinced the police that the body inside the auto was mine. Later on, you removed the body and burnt it in the desert to destroy the evidence of my crime. That is at least believable, and you won't face too much in the way of punishment.'

'No way,' Milo said. 'That is never going to happen.'

'Listen to me, Milo. I have already been physically dead, so I'm not owed anything else in this life. My resurrection was nothing short of a miracle, which even I did not believe would happen. That in itself was a blessing after being trapped inside the Phasewave. Despite all our problems, at least I am now alive and occupying my own body.'

'If you confess to that, you will incur the death penalty,' Milo said. 'I cannot and will not allow you do it. Never!'

Milo and Glen were still arguing when the doorbell rang. It was Will calling. Milo invited him inside, grateful for an excuse to break his argument with Glen.

'We've been granted another presentation tonight,' Milo told Will. 'At Victor's insistence, there will be over twenty people attending this one, including representatives from the scientific and medical fields.'

'That is good news,' Will acknowledged. He turned to say hello to Glen but was greeted with a frosty stare.

Will sensed the tension inside the room, but he was desperate to speak with Milo alone. 'I'm sorry, Glen,' Will said. 'Would you very much mind if I have a private conversation with Milo. It is very important.'

'Don't mind me,' Glen said. 'I know when I'm not wanted.' She turned and walked from the room in a huff.

'I apologise for upsetting Glen,' Will said, 'but this really is only for your ears, and we haven't got much time left.'

'Don't mind Glen; she is taking her rejection very badly, and the thought of going to prison is really dragging her down. What is on your mind?'

'I think I may be able to help with this presentation.'

'Any of your ideas are welcome.'

'A few weeks ago, I received a transmission from the future.'

'Oh, no,' Milo groaned. 'No more. Now is not the time for your revelations; we are in a serious predicament.'

'This transmission was different,' Will said. 'It involves us.'

Milo was sceptical. 'Okay, go ahead.'

'The transmission I received indicated that in the very near future there is going to be a big event; an event so big that it crashes the Phasewave network for half a day. I was unable to discover the cause of the event, but only a huge surge of media transmissions would be capable of swamping the system like that.'

'Assuming that is going happen, in what way will it help us?'

'I think that we are the cause of that media surge.'

'How do we become involved?'

'I might be able to resolve this problem, once and for all. We are going to make that surge happen.'

Milo was hesitant, not knowing whether to trust Will or not.

'We have reached this point before,' Will said. 'I was onto that case and explained to you what was going to happen, but you wouldn't listen and threw me out. This time we will both be involved. Please don't dismiss me.'

Milo looked silently at Will until curiosity got the better of him. He leaned forward. 'Tell me more,' he said.

That night, the government war room was crowded by the time security staff closed and locked its external doors.

Milo again took the stage and addressed the assembled occupants. 'First of all I would like to thank you for attending this meeting at short notice,' Milo said. 'Standing behind me is my team – Will, Sam and Amelia, and they will be taking part in this presentation. Tonight we are going to re-enact the events leading up to the creation of the alien life form known as New Life, and afterwards we will allow a question and answer session with the alien responsible for that creation. Hopefully, we will be able to allay your fears and convince you that we have been joined by a genuine, alternative, alien life form that does not pose a threat to Vennica and its inhabitants. Does anyone require clarification on those points?'

There were no comments from the audience of twenty-three high-ranking people in the room. Milo ushered Amelia to a small, elevated stage under a bright spotlight. Amelia's hands were shaking with nerves as she took the Glo-Babe from its container and placed it in the centre of the stage. After a few seconds, it reacted to the light and burst into a shimmering, coloured display, capturing the attention of those in the audience who had never seen one before. Amelia advanced towards the display and raised her arm, at which point the display stopped moving and contracted into the striking position, pointing at Amelia. Will, standing to one side of the stage, felt the vibrations of an intense exchange of communications inside his head. Amelia leaned forward and touched the tip of the display, which abruptly shut down.

Amelia stood back, and the temperature in the room started to drop, while the occupants of the room looked around them, wondering what was happening. The room temperature continued to drop, and then a coil of vapour started to rise from the cromite crystal. It writhed, twisted, and expanded until it solidified into a dark shape – the shape of an androgynous human being, without eyes, mouth or genitalia. The audience was stunned.

Then the model slowly started to shrink and the colour of its skin changed. It developed breasts and hair and turned into a young woman – Amelia! The whole room let out a collective gasp, including Amelia, who had been expecting to see Haq standing before her.

The woman was naked, and Sam walked up to the stage and draped a robe around her.

The newly created woman addressed the assembled audience in a strange, metallic voice, which filled the room. 'I am the alien, communicating with you through the voice of Lim, the second example of the New Life. My powers, which are beyond human experience, allowed me to convert the Cromite crystal into the form of Lim, and that process will be repeated until I have created an entire new race. Lim will now address you.'

The woman spoke again. 'I am Lim, and I represent the Cromite civilisation. We make no demands of you other than your acceptance of us as an alternative form of life to humankind. We are asking you to allow us to share your planet, which we will not affect in any way, and the New Life will not pose a threat to your civilisation. In return, I am authorised by the Cromite to guarantee that the fires in Southland will cease. I will also be able to resolve the problems with fuelling your intended power stations by supplying you with Cromite crystals discarded in the Transition process; the inert crystals retain the ability to be changed into the type of Cromite capable of producing power. I will now take questions from you.'

The audience was scarcely able to believe what it had just experienced, and the whole room was rendered motionless in a stunned silence. Eventually, Victor stepped forward and stood next to Lim. He took hold of her hand. 'I can honestly say that never before have I been in a situation like this and witnessed such a significant event. On behalf of the Vennican government, I offer you our whole-hearted welcome. I assure you that we will do everything within our powers to make your stay with us as amenable as possible.'

Milo started clapping, and the whole room broke into applause.

Immediately after the meeting, the President took Milo on one side.

'I have to say that was an impressive demonstration,' Victor said. 'You handled it well.'

Milo gave a faint smile. 'I am just relieved that everyone was convinced and that the threat of pollution has now receded. The idea of using spent Cromite crystals in the power stations obviously helped; that was an unexpected touch.'

'The Power Project will certainly be happy with that outcome. We must now look forward to a future with the New Life. The medics are taking Lim to a hospital as a precaution and will be keeping her under observation overnight. They will not be carrying any tests, and I made it clear to her that she was a guest, not a prisoner, and that she would be free to leave tomorrow.'

'If it's okay with you,' Milo said, 'I'll arrange for Amelia and Sam to collect her and keep her out of sight until we work out what comes next. They'll probably hide in Will's apartment on the marina. What is now going to happen to Glen and me?'

'Your midnight arrest is deferred, and I will consider what to do about that in the morning. Despite what we have just observed, it does not change your and Glen's situation.'

'The alien has just created another species of life before your very eyes. Can you not accept that it has the capability of giving Glen back her life?'

'Unfortunately I cannot. Your warrants are specific and the only way they can be changed is by a legal challenge backed up with supporting evidence. Hearsay of an alien's involvement will not stand up to scrutiny in court.'

'What if I was to present irrefutable evidence that Glen and the body I removed from my vault are the same person?'

'Are you being serious?'

'Yes.'

'If that were to be the case, it would make my decision easy, but if you do possess such evidence, why you have waited so long to produce it?'

'I have been too busy,' Milo said. 'I will deliver that evidence in the morning, if you are agreeable.'

'I will await your meeting with interest, and not a little speculation,' Victor said. 'Do not let me down.'

'I do not intend to.' Milo checked the time. 'I must catch up with the others. Well, at least our problems with aliens and uncontrolled fires can now be resolved.'

'I hope so,' Victor said. 'Discovering two aliens on my watch is more than enough excitement for me. All that remains to be done tonight is to arrange a press release.'

'That shouldn't take too long,' Milo said.

#####  Chapter Ten

Sam and Amelia had just arrived at Will's apartment when Will burst into the room behind them.

'Quick – turn on the news! Someone at that meeting recorded the Transition process. The video has been released on the media networks.'

Sam turned on a television set and found herself looking at Amelia's clone, standing, naked, on a stage.

'The video has been picked up by every single news organisation,' Will said, 'and the sheer volume of transmissions has crashed the Phasewave network. It has now been distributed throughout the entire system. Amelia, you are now famous on a truly universal scale.'

Amelia had turned pale. She watched as Sam replayed the video and saw herself touching the Glo-Babe's display. 'I wasn't expecting this,' she said.

Will left the room and came back with a bottle of champagne. 'The meeting was a total success; I think a celebration is called for.'

Will poured the champagne and they drank a toast to the future. 'I've got something else,' he said. He opened a package he had been carrying and pulled out a magazine. It was a copy of Ideas World, and on the front cover was a composite picture of Amelia, her clone and the base model.

Amelia picked up the magazine and looked at it in blank astonishment. 'So here I am, naked again, for the entire world to see.'

'Take heart that it wasn't actually you standing there naked,' Sam said. 'Think of it as someone pretending to be you.'

'That doesn't make me feel better. How did this media business happen so fast?'

'The video must have been streamed live,' Will said.

Sam played back the news again and stopped it at the point where Amelia realized that the created New Life was a copy of herself. 'Just look at your face!' she said.

Amelia saw the humorous side of the video, and started to laugh with Sam.

'Have they found out who leaked this?' Sam asked.

'No,' Will said, 'but whoever filmed it must have been brave to smuggle a camera and transmitter into such a confidential, high-level meeting.'

Sam looked closely at the picture on the screen. 'They must have been standing on the front row to get such a clear shot. How did you know there was a transmitter involved?'

'The video went straight out there, so it must have been streamed to someone in the media waiting outside the building.'

Sam looked closer. 'This was taken from where we were standing. Who else was there with us?'

'It could have been anyone,' Will remarked. 'People were moving all around the room.'

'No,' Sam said. 'Nobody was moving; they were riveted to the spot. Just look at them on the video.'

Sam carefully examined the image. 'Will, this was taken from where you were standing, right by the edge of the stage.'

'I don't think so,' Will said. 'I was aware of someone near me, but I don't remember who it was.'

Sam picked up the Ideas World magazine and opened it. Inside, numerous pictures of the event, reproduced from screen grabs off the video, filled the pages. The inside cover included a photo of a young woman, who Sam assumed was a model, wearing skin-tight trousers and a low-cut top. She was sitting at a desk with her feet up, and the camera angle emphasised the length of her legs. Sam looked at Will and snapped her fingers in the air. 'This is the reporter!' She held up the picture for Will to see. 'This is the girl with the legs who was stalking you. You leaked it! That's how Ideas World got the pictures out so quickly.'

'What kind of a person do you think I am?' Will said, feigning offense. 'I'm not going to sit here being bullied by you; I'll go and get more champagne.'

After Will had left the room, Sam and Amelia stared at each other and burst out laughing.

'I can't believe Will did that,' Amelia said. 'He was lying through his teeth.'

'No, there is more to this. Will wouldn't have dared do it on his own without permission.' Sam snapped her fingers again. 'I've got it – it was Milo! Milo put Will up to it. This was Milo's fallback plan, and what a great idea it was! By the time the meeting finished, the video was already being pumped out by the media outlets, and after it reached the Phasewave network, it would have instantly reached practically everyone alive. If the people in that room had not accepted the demonstration, public opinion and the world press would have forced the issue. The views of millions of viewers would have prevented commercial interests stopping the Transition.'

Will re-joined them with more champagne.

'Come clean, Will,' Sam said.

'I really have no idea who did it,' Will said. He turned to Amelia. 'Do you realize that by now your face has become the most recognised face in the universe? What does that feel like?'

'It feels very scary,' Amelia said. 'I simply had no idea that the crystal would turn into a clone of me or that the alien would come up with the idea of recycling the waste Cromite. My life has suddenly become full of surprises.'

'The acceptance of the demonstration and the New Life by so many prominent people should now make it easier for us to resolve the issue over Glen's return to public life,' Will said. 'Milo and Glen might just have discovered a way forward.'

'Well, whoever took that video did us all a favour, and we should be grateful'' Sam said. 'I think we should offer a toast to Amelia, who, by bringing back Glen to life, just did something that nobody else has ever done and will probably never happen again.'

Sam and Will raised their glasses and drank a toast.

Amelia was embarrassed. 'All I did was just stand there while the alien told me what to do. I didn't actually contribute anything.'

'You were a born natural,' Sam said. 'Here's to the future.'

They all raised their glasses and drank more champagne. Will sat back, experiencing a sudden energy gap after the day's events, and watched Sam and Amelia sharing jokes and laughing together on the sofa, and he realized there was still an attraction between them. He made his excuses and abandoned them to take an early night, relieved to have the events of the day behind him.

Lying in bed next to Sam later that night, Will questioned, for the first time, his relationship with her. He pictured Sam sitting with Amelia on the sofa, sharing a joke and laughing with her in a way he had never heard her laugh when she was with him. He was ten years older, and had often wondered if Sam would go down the same route as all his previous female friends and tire of him and his strange life of seclusion living in the apartment. Their one and only argument had left a lasting impact on him, and he was at a loss to explain why he could not put it behind him. He felt sad, but in his heart, he realized he had always known that one day he would lose Sam. She had not changed; she was still an independent, strong willed woman who had a promising future ahead of her and was determined to make it a success. He decided that whatever happened, it would be better for both of them if they parted and Sam went back to Amelia, where she clearly belonged. Sam had made a huge impact on his life, something he would always look back on with fondness. In any case, Amelia was definitely going to need someone with her to cope with the pressure that fame would bring with it over the following months. It occurred to him that Sam was probably thinking along the same lines but was too proud to admit defeat; it was not in her nature to give up on anything she had started. He decided to broach the subject with her in the morning.

The video ended and Cara switched off her media screen. She sat down on a chair next to Al and put her feet up on a coffee table. 'What do you think of it?' she said.

Al shook his head. 'I can't believe that actually happened, but I now understand what the commotion in the building was all about. There were two meetings; that was the second one.'

'What was the purpose of the first one?'

'I don't know, but that was when Glen attended with another woman, and neither of them was present at the later meeting.' Al picked up a tiny camera and transmitter from the table and inspected it. 'How can such a small bit of kit produce those quality pictures? Where did you get it from?'

'All you need to know,' Cara said, 'is that I always get my man.' She laughed. 'What I can confirm is that the video cost a lot of money, but the magazine is making an absolute fortune out of it. I can't believe that I've just broken the story of the century. We have now witnessed the birth of an alien civilisation, and Amelia has become the face that will always be associated with that event. More importantly, for me at least, my story is now being syndicated all over Vennica.'

'You really have pulled off the big one,' Al said.

'Don't forget that it was you who told me about the rumours and the secret meetings. This was a joint venture.'

'So what happens now?'

'That's anyone's guess,' Cara said.

'It's getting late; let's go to bed,' Al said. 'Today is going to be a hard act to follow. I wonder what surprises are in store for us tomorrow.'

Victor Harrington was in a cheerful mood when he allowed Milo into his office the following morning. By contrast, Milo was exhausted after a sleepless night and was surprised at the President's demeanour at what he considered a serious and significant meeting. However, he knew that Victor was an expert at disguising his intentions and was prepared for any traps he might be setting.

Milo and the President sat in two leather armchairs in the President's study. 'I feel as if I have aged several years in the last few days,' Victor said. 'I don't normally drink at this hour of the day, but I have been saving a bottle of whiskey for a special occasion, and I think yesterday's presentation definitely qualifies for that accolade.' He got up and returned to the table carrying a bottle. He filled two glasses and handed one to Milo.

Milo cautiously accepted the drink.

Victor raised his glass. 'I propose a toast to better times, times when we will no longer have to worry about unknown quantities that have the ability to change our lives so significantly.'

'I couldn't agree more,' Milo said. He tried to savour the whiskey, but his thoughts were straying elsewhere. 'What you just said is a pleasant enough thought, but recent history would deem it unlikely.'

'At least we have taken a first step to regaining control of our destiny. Talking of taking control, have you found out who leaked that video?'

'We haven't found a thing,' Milo said. 'I don't think there is any point in wasting much more time trying to track down the culprit while this Transition process is ongoing.'

'I agree; it looks like we may never find out who did it. What a sorry state of affairs it is when you find that you can't trust your top people, but we must move on; there are still many challenges ahead of us.'

'At least the leak helped by solving the problem of how to break the news to the press.'

'That was the only positive thing about it,' Victor confirmed.

'Has there been any backlash from the attendees at the demonstration?' Milo asked.

'There has been surprisingly little, considering what went on. Everyone seems to be confused, including me, I might add. I had expected more curiosity to be displayed about the alien and its role in the proceedings, but all the attention seems to have been directed at Amelia. Now, let's get down to the reason you are here. I note that you arrived carrying a large bag, and the thought occurred to me that you might be intending to surprise me by producing something along the lines of a dead body.'

'Not quite,' Milo said. He reached down, opened the bag and pulled out a clear plastic refuse sack. 'This is not going to be a nice experience,' he advised. 'Inside this sack are pieces of the shroud and funeral windings that encased the missing body in question. They contain fragments of charred flesh and bone splinters, as well as dried bodily fluids.'

'Dear God,' Victor exclaimed. He went over and examined the items through the side of the bag. 'Where did you get these from?'

'I can't go into that right now, but I can assure you that a DNA test will confirm that Glen's body was at some stage wrapped in these cloths.'

'How do I know these are originals and not something you have just produced? I have no way of knowing.'

'The Security Service forensic department will easily be able to confirm that a dead body had been wrapped in these items for several months. I can open the bag up if you like; the smell of decayed flesh should give you an idea of how old they are.'

'That won't be necessary.' Victor hastily said. He returned to his seat. 'What do you expect me to do with this evidence?'

'I want you to carry out an independent test on these wrappings and compare the DNA on them with Glen's DNA, after which, I would like you pass on the results to all attendees at the last presentation. It should only then be a formality for the Judiciary to cancel those warrants.'

'You sound very confident that the results will be in your favour.'

'In this particular case, I am more than confident because I personally took that body away from my family vault and brought Glen back, alive. The alien saved her, although you may wish to play that fact down.'

'Leave it with me, Milo. To eliminate any uncertainty about the validity of your claims, I will arrange two independent tests to be carried out by external agencies. Will Glen be available later today to provide DNA samples?'

'She will be available at my address all day.'

'Then I should be able to discuss the results with you tomorrow. I will contact you when they become available.'

Later the same day, Will and Sam shared an uneasy silence in his living room.

'We can't go on like this,' Will said, interrupting the silence. 'Have you thought any more about what we discussed this morning?'

'No,' Sam snapped. 'Should I have?'

'I was hoping for a more reasoned response,' Will said. 'I don't want to start another argument.'

'If you want to kick me out, just say go,' Sam said. 'We're both adults.'

'I don't want you out, but Amelia can't stay hidden in this place indefinitely and will need someone with her when she eventually returns home. We need to discuss her situation.'

'So you are trying to get rid of Amelia as well?'

'I hope you know me better than that.'

'Sometimes I think I don't know you at all. Why do you suddenly feel all this responsibility for Amelia?'

'I promised that I would reward her for what she did and offered her an income for the rest of her life, but she won't hear a word of it. She has also abandoned all ideas of becoming a doctor – she says she never again wants to set eyes on a human body. We both know that her circumstances will never be the same after all the media coverage, so I think we should try to work out some arrangements for her.'

'Have you anything in mind?'

'With her kind of fame, she has the potential to earn a lot of money, so I was thinking along the lines of setting up a company to handle her affairs. We could all be joint owners of that company.'

'I could not afford the time off to get involved in that,' Sam said. 'I've been called away from work twice now; God knows what the Department thinks of me.'

'You could take unpaid leave.'

'I still have a career to consider, and it wouldn't be fair to keep jumping in and out of the Department.'

'Milo owes you big time, and the Security Service reports to him. He will let you do anything you want. However, Amelia won't accept that she is going to have to make some drastic lifestyle adjustments, despite knowing that the media have staked out her house and are waiting for her to return. If you agree to work with her, I will find somewhere secure where you can both live in privacy and guarantee you both a salary for the rest of your lives, regardless of what profits the company makes.'

'That would be a big drain on your finances.'

'It wouldn't. Amelia is going to come under intense commercial pressure, and she will need some sound advice to protect her from unsolicited offers. I think you would be the ideal person to fill that role.'

'I'm not sure about that. Did Amelia tell you that she has received a large payment from _Ideas World_ for using her images?'

'She did not, but I think that will just be the start.'

'She has also had an extremely lucrative offer from a magazine that wants to publish nude pictures of her.'

'What was Amelia's response to that?'

'She thought it was hilarious. After having pictures of a nude look-alike transmitted throughout the universe, she felt there was nothing left to cover in that area.'

Will laughed, relieved to have broken the ice with Sam. 'I also think she could use a PR person to handle her public image.'

'Do you know anyone?'

'I don't have any contacts in that field; the only person I can think of is that reporter from _Ideas World_ : Cara Wilson.'

'Surely you wouldn't trust her.'

'So far she has stuck by her side of the bargain,' Will said, absentmindedly.

Sam smiled sweetly. 'What bargain was that, Will?'

'It was just a figure of speech,' Will quickly replied. 'I meant that she had stopped bothering me after I asked her to go away.'

'Will Avery, you are so busted. Give me everything you have; I'm not going to stop until I'm satisfied.'

'I don't know anything about a bargain, and there was no arrangement.'

'You took the video and streamed it to Cara, didn't you?'

'Shouldn't I be calling a lawyer or something?'

'Milo put you up to it, didn't he?'

'No.'

'Perhaps I should ask Milo.'

'No! You mustn't talk to Milo.' Will groaned. 'Okay, you've got me. Actually, you are wrong. It was my idea in the first place, and I sold it to Milo, but you must keep Milo out of this, at all costs.'

'So it was your idea. What were you thinking about?'

'I had received information about an impending media surge so big that it was going to crash the Phasewave network for half a day. I worked out that the cause of the crash could only be the alien presentation, so I persuaded Milo to trust me this time round and take my advice. Milo did trust me; I took the video, and the rest is history. Is there anything else you would like to know?'

'Yes. Now we are playing Truth or Dare, tell me what you did to the Base Manager. How did that blood get on your shirt?'

'I told you it was just a nosebleed. It just wasn't my nose.'

'You broke his nose?'

'I think I also cracked a rib or two. He poked me in the chest, so I gave him a demonstration of my freestyle fighting skills. Then I threatened to turn up with the Home Guard, arrest him and shut down the base.'

'How did you dare do that? You aren't an authorised agent, or in the Home Guard.'

'He wasn't aware of those facts,' Will said. 'All I can say is that he took it lying down.'

'So the rumours were true – you really were a fighter!' Sam was amazed. 'When I was first told about that, I didn't believe it.'

'I was aware of those rumours, but I always denied them. How is it that whenever I tell people things about myself, they don't believe me, and then later, when they find out that I was telling the truth, they act surprised?'

Sam laughed. 'I don't know, Will. I guess it's just your devious nature.'

Cara sat on a bench in the central park, shielded from the summer sun by a spreading tree. While she waited for her partner, Al, to join her for lunch, she carefully tore small pieces of bread off a sandwich and threw them to a waiting group of karakas, which had surrounded the bench where she was sitting.

Al arrived and feigned amazement. He theatrically checked his watch. 'I can't believe it; you are early. I guess there's a first time for everything.' He shooed away the encroaching birds and sat next to her on the bench.

'I got you lunch.' Cara handed him a cup of coffee.

'Thanks. Are you well?'

'I think so, but the more I hear about the Alien and Cromite story, the more confused I am becoming. None of it makes sense, and I simply don't buy into this dead Glen thing.'

'Boy, have I got some gossip for you. I'm starving; have you got anything to eat?'

Cara gave Al a bag containing a sandwich. 'Thanks,' Al said. He held up his sandwich, half of which was missing. 'Hey! What happened to this?' He looked down to where a line of karakas eyed him expectantly. 'You've been feeding my sandwich to these bandits. I don't believe it.'

Cara gave him the big eyes. 'I tried to fight them off,' she said, 'but they ganged up on me and got away with your bread.'

Al tucked into his meal. 'You could have given them your wrap.'

Cara laughed. 'I think they prefer meat and bread.'

'This coffee is excellent. Those birds don't know what they are missing.'

'Well then, tell me what's going on in the government nowadays.'

'I don't know where to start,' Al said. 'The whole building is now divided into power groups. Dan Carling, the Home Secretary, is determined to see Milo and Glen in court over the missing body issue, and Bill Warren has sided with the Phasewave Company, which is planning to requisition the Cromite crystals and use them in the new power stations. Rumour has it that he also plans to oust Victor and replace him as President.'

'That sounds pretty drastic. Can I use any of this stuff?''

'I wouldn't bother right now; the situation is changing by the minute. Even better, Victor has now accepted that Glen has actually come back from the dead and charges against her and Milo have been dropped. They are free to go.'

'How did that happen?'

'I don't know,' Al said, 'but you'd better keep that last bit to yourself because I heard it in the President's office, and it is not yet public knowledge.'

'My lips are sealed,' Cara said. 'I wish you hadn't told me about Glen. The thought of someone coming back from the dead is freaking me out.'

'Stick around,' Al said. 'I have a feeling that there is going to be more freaking stuff coming your way.'

#####  Chapter Eleven

Will was lying in bed awake, mulling over recent events and contemplating a future without Sam, when his messager rang. He reached out in the semi-darkness, picked up his messager and checked the caller's identity. Then he glanced to where Sam was soundly sleeping next to him and quietly crept to an adjoining room.

'It's me, Cara,' a voice said. 'We agreed to get together again; is now a bad time?'

'Where are you?'

'I'm in my apartment.'

'Stay there. I'll come and pick you up.'

Having met Cara outside her apartment, Will drove to the coast, stopping on the way to purchase coffees from an all-night store. He pulled into a parking area overlooking a dark expanse of sea, and the two of them sat in silence and watched the dawn slowly seep into the sky. A causeway stretched in a black line across the bay to the artificial island of Ultima where the first buildings were being constructed.

Will pointed to the island. 'There was a time when I wanted to live on Ultima,' he said, 'but now they have started building, I have lost all interest.'

'You'd have to be mega-rich to buy a place out there,' Cara commented.

'I guess.'

'Anyway, how are you keeping?

'Don't you ever sleep?' Will said. 'I'm sure you didn't bring me all this way just to check on my health.'

'I haven't slept for days,' Cara said. 'I'm still pumped up, and all I'm hearing are rumours. I need to find out what's going on.'

'Things have moved rapidly since we last spoke together.'

'Well, you certainly delivered, and you have given my career a meteoric rise, for which I will be forever thankful, but I am desperate for more details. Can I ask you some questions?'

'Off the record?'

'That was our agreement. I won't publish anything on this subject without your permission.'

'Okay,' Will said, 'ask away.'

'I've looked at that video a hundred times,' Cara said. 'It starts at the point where Amelia puts the Cromite on the floor and then stops after the Amelia clone, Lim, has addressed the room in that tinny voice and invited questions. Obviously, a lot more went on at that meeting, so my first question is: who was that blonde woman who walked up and put a robe on the clone?'

'That was Sam.'

'Where does she fit into the scene?'

'She is an agent employed by the Security Service, and she was also a member of the team working on the Cromite case.'

'Second question then: who else was with you at the presentation?'

'Our presentation team consisted of Milo, Sam, Amelia and me.'

'How did Milo get involved? What was his role?'

'When Lim first spoke, it was actually the alien doing the explaining. Milo came across the alien years ago when he and Glen were investigating a case, and Milo seems to have been involved with it on and off ever since.'

'So what caused the alien to suddenly pitch up?'

'The alien brought Glen back to life. Afterwards, it came into contact with the Cromite by pure chance, and that meeting led to the creation of the New Life.'

'Why wasn't Glen at the presentation?'

'Glen was forced to drop out of sight when nobody accepted that she had been brought back from the dead.'

'I can't get my head round that thing about being brought back to life, although I understand that the President is convinced that it is true and that charges against Milo and Glen have been dropped.'

'That has not yet been announced,' Will said, 'so I won't ask where you obtained that information.'

'Obviously the President didn't believe that Glen had been resurrected when she and Milo were initially charged with murder. Can you tell me what changed his mind?'

'All I can say is that he was presented with irrefutable evidence.'

'Why do I detect that you were somehow involved in that?'

'To explain further, Glen's body wasn't buried; it was interred in Milo's family vault. Amelia and I prepared her remains for restoration, and Amelia then transferred the alien into what was left of Glen's body, bringing her back to life. I was there the whole time and witnessed Glen being brought back to life. I physically handled her damaged remains, which is something I will never forget. I know it sounds impossible, but that is what happened.'

'That simply can't be true,' Cara said. 'You can't bring someone back from the dead after all that time.'

'You and I can't, but the alien can. This wasn't the first time it had brought somebody back from the dead; it did the same thing to one of the engineers on Bouron after it accidentally killed him. You watched the video and saw an Amelia clone created from a tiny crystal within seconds. If you accept that, why do you have difficulty in believing Glen was restored to life?'

'I still can't believe you.'

'That's just as well,' Will said, 'because it means that nobody else will believe the story if you ever repeat what I have just told you.'

'When did you first find out about this alien concoction?'

'It's a long story,' Will said, 'but the alien is central to so much that has recently happened on Vennica. Years ago, a Phasewave machine on Bouron accidentally created an alien, and since then its whereabouts and intentions appear to have followed no logical pattern. Recently, I discovered that something significant was about to happen on Vennica, but I had no idea what would cause it or that it would turn out to be this big.'

'Hold it right there. How did you know that a big event was going to happen?'

'Let's just call it intuition,' Will said. 'I worked out that the event would be triggered by a massive media surge across the networks, a surge so big that it would crash the Phasewave system. Then I realized that it was going to be caused by what you saw on that video.'

'Are you telling me that you can see into the future?'

'I'm not telling you anything; remember our agreement.'

Cara thought for a while, and then asked, 'What are you doing now?'

'I have been appointed by the government to be the Liaison Officer with the New Life; I interact with its spokesperson, Lim.'

'Lim said she was the second version of the New Life. Was there another?'

'That was Haq.'

'Haq? Are you being serious? Yes, I can see you are. Where did she come from?'

'She was created in my lounge, which is where the alien and the Cromite first contacted each other, and she was not an Amelia clone, she was a Glen clone.'

'In your lounge!' Cara stared at Will in amazement. 'Do you expect me to believe that an alien created a clone in your lounge? Are you mad?'

'Amelia and Sam were both there with me at the time, and they witnessed it happen. Amelia was involved in creating Haq, exactly as she did with Lim on the video.'

'You are losing me. So why wasn't Haq there at the presentation?'

'Another meeting had taken place the day before, at which Glen and Haq presented. They were not well received because like you, nobody could accept that Glen had been brought back to life. After that first meeting, Haq was taken away for medical tests and unfortunately died. Those events resulted in the second presentation where another model was created for everyone to see.'

Cara stared in amazement. 'My head is spinning. You are living in a parallel world to me. Is what you are saying true? Be honest.'

'It is true, but I did warn you that you would find some of these events difficult to accept. Other things also took place, but they can never be revealed.'

Cara scratched her head. She was unable to comprehend what Will was saying. 'Let's move on. What is Amelia doing now?'

'She is living in a secure location, and only ventures outside in disguise.'

'Why is that?'

'She is accosted whenever people recognise her. They generally want to touch her and ask her if she is real version of Amelia, or make some comment about her naked figure. The interest should die down soon.'

'I wouldn't count on it,' Cara said. 'Right now, Amelia is hot property; she has become a brand. So, what happens next?'

'The Transition is progressing much slower than we anticipated. So far, only a few New Life models have been produced, and they have all been based on a female form. There was talk of producing a male version, but as yet they have no male DNA to work on.'

'What about yours? Surely you would make an acceptable model.'

'Actually, I did volunteer, but I was turned down because I have defective genes. I have a metal head.'

Cara laughed. 'Now I know you're not being serious. And on that note, I think it is time for me to go.'

'Has any of this helped you?' Will asked.

'No. All you have done is to give me a brain-fade.'

After her first outing on her own, Glen returned to the apartment she shared with Milo after spending the best part of a day at a lunch that had been laid on especially for her by Lorna Harrington, the President's wife. She greeted Milo in the lounge and flopped into a chair, exhausted.

'Dare I ask how your day went?' Milo asked.

'Extremely well,' Glen said. 'For the first time, I feel that my life is returning to normal.'

'So, did your lady friends accept you?'

'They were a bit wary at first, and I can't say I blame them after what we hit them with. Lorna was extremely supportive, and I guess everyone else eventually fell into line because of her.'

'Thank goodness. I was beginning to think that you were turning into a recluse.'

'The cream of Kalmis society was there today, and they were very curious, but I think I managed to give them the answers they wanted. Fortunately, nobody asked any "what's life like after death?" questions, so I managed to avoid having to explain where I was during my absence. That would definitely not have enhanced my credibility. Lorna surprised me though; she is expecting Victor to ask me back as Cultural Ambassador.'

'That's a good sign. Would you accept the job?'

'I hadn't considered going back, but Lorna has talked me round. She is a brick; after my return, she was the first outsider to visit me and talk to me face to face. The fact that I managed to convince her about my situation really gave me a boost; I think I would have gone insane without her help.'

'Well, Victor has informed me that he is arranging a state dinner, and you, Sam, Amelia and Will are going to be the guests of honour.'

'That sounds like it could be a great night out. Please don't tell me that you are going to get another medal.'

'Most definitely not! I've told Victor that any awards must be made to the team.'

'That is very considerate of you,' Glen said. 'Of course, this means that I will have to buy a whole new outfit for the occasion.'

Will turned his auto onto a narrow road skirting a bay. The grey sea was featureless, and ahead of them rows of unimaginative, drab buildings partitioned an abandoned naval base. It must be, Will thought, just about the most depressing site in Northland.

'What is your opinion of our little colony?' Lim asked.

'There must be worse places than this, but I can't think of any,' Will replied. 'Thanks for accompanying me; I never would have found it on my own. Do you actually live here?'

Lim smiled. 'Yes, I actually live here. I will show you my room if you like.'

An electric fence surrounded the compound, and Will and Lim had their authorisations checked by a guard before he allowed them to proceed through the entrance gate. Will carefully avoided the potholes in the derelict roads and pulled up outside the central building. He nodded to the fence. 'Is that here to stop people getting in or is it to stop you getting out?'

'Probably a bit of each,' Lim said. 'When we first moved here, we were swamped with reporters, but I think the government must have asked them to stay away.'

'Before we go in, may I ask when you started to use this voice instead of your metallic voice?'

'This is the voice I was created with. The other was just for the presentation, to show everyone that I was different.'

'You are now using Amelia's voice.'

'So I understand. Although Amelia was involved in my creation, I met her only briefly. Is she a nice person?'

'Yes, she is. Without her assistance, we would have been unable to bring Glen back to life.'

'Well, that is now history,' Lim said. 'To bring you up to date, the fires in Southland have now shut down, and the Cromite crystals are being harvested and stored, but we are still having a problem with the Transition process. I must warn you that you might see some disturbing scenes when you enter this building.'

'What is the problem?'

'The New Life form is struggling to adapt to the low Ultra Violet light content on this planet, and some of the experimental models have died.'

'Can the models be adapted?'

'We always knew that the lack of UV would be a problem, which is why the base model for New Life was created in a dark colour to absorb as much radiation as possible. I am different from other versions because I am able to extract heat from the air I breathe. Subsequent operational models do not have room inside them for organs such as lungs, in addition to the Cromite content, and it is proving difficult to find a design which satisfies their needs.'

'What happened to Haq?'

'She has been helping me with the Transition,' Lim said. 'She is inside. Would you like to meet her?'

'I was told Haq had died. What do you mean?'

'The original Haq self-terminated. We reproduced her for use in the experiment.'

'I don't understand. Why did she self-terminate?'

'After the presentation she attended, Haq was undergoing medical tests when the senior medic in charge received a messager call from a government minister. Unbeknown to him, the alien had intercepted the call and was listening to their conversation. The medic was instructed to alter the medical test results to confirm that Haq was human and arrange for her to be accidentally killed. Afterwards, her remains were to be disposed of as quickly as possible. After hearing that, the alien immediately instructed Haq to self-terminate to prevent the medics from falsifying the tests.'

'Which member of the government made that call?'

'I do not know.'

'I wish I could have heard it. We could use some ammunition.'

'I can supply you with that information.'

'How could you do that?'

'The information will have been stored in the alien's memory. I will contact the alien and retrieve it.'

'I would very much appreciate that.'

'We do not have any print facilities here, so I will send it to your messager.'

'Thank you for that, but returning to Haq, may I see her?'

'You can see her, but unfortunately she is already dying.'

Lim led the way into the building they had stopped outside, which had previously been used as a base hospital. The interior was unheated, and Will's head started to throb as he received numerous transmissions from nearby. He followed Lim into a bathroom where he found a New Life model. Haq was lying naked in a bath, but the lower half of her body appeared to have melted and the remains were floating in a pool of liquid. Will automatically covered his mouth, although there was no smell of decay in the air. Haq made no acknowledgement of Will's presence, and when Will looked at her, all he could see was Glen's face and sightless eyes, and he was unable to think of anything to say.

'Haq is aware of your concern,' Lim said, 'and she is sorry she cannot respond to you. As death approaches, the body's artificial tissues start to dissolve from the feet upwards. There is no pain, and in two days' time she will be fully liquefied.'

'Is there anything that I can do to help her?'

'No.'

'What will happen after she has died?'

'I will take the liquid and pour it into the sea.'

'What do you experience when you see them dying like this?'

'I feel nothing, and neither does the model. The Cromite are one, and the loss of a few does not change anything. Let me show you my room.'

Lim took Will along a corridor and ushered him into a shabby room. The only furnishings were a chair, a bed and a UV light machine. The room was very cold and unwelcoming.

'What do you do in here?' Will asked. 'Don't you have any belongings?'

'I have no need of belongings. I do not sleep or eat.'

Will pointed to Lim's tunic. 'Where did you find that thing?'

'The medics gave it to me when I was examined. They treated me very well.'

'I'll see what I can do about obtaining some decent clothes for you. What else do you do in your spare time?'

'I fill my day. Right now, I am communicating with the four remaining models in this building and several Cromite specimens.'

'Are you going to make any more models?'

'It is my belief that the Cromite will soon cancel the Transition process and try to find an alternative method to revert to their physical form.'

'What will happen to the last four models?'

'They are all dying, and soon I will be the only model left alive. The Cromite accepts that the process is failing, but it will be an unpopular decision if they cancel the Transition. It has taken over three hundred million years to reach this point, and there is a reluctance to abandon such an opportunity. I have something else to show you.'

Lim and Will walked down an empty corridor. Lim stopped and opened the door to a brightly lit room. Will stepped inside and felt the overpowering transmissions of ten Glo-Babes, which were displaying under a canopy of UV lights. Lim followed Will into the room, and the transmissions abruptly ceased.

'These are the Cromite representatives,' Lim said. 'They know who you are and how you helped with the creation of Haq.'

'Can you convey my greetings?' Will asked.

'I already have, and I have also relayed to them the contents of our conversation today. They say they will communicate through me when they have made a decision regarding their future actions. We will now leave.'

Back in the corridor, Will was moved at the thought of Haq remaining in that dreadful place on her own. 'Why doesn't the Cromite repeat the experiment in a warmer part of the planet, like Southland?' he asked.

'That possibility has been discussed, but it is not considered a viable option because there is not enough energy in the light on this planet to ensure indefinite survival, especially if the seasonal variations in temperature are taken into consideration. Before you leave, there is one last thing I need to show you.'

Haq led the way to another small bedroom, similar to hers. Inside the stark room sat a dark-coloured and featureless base model of the New Life. The room was bitterly cold.

'Do you notice how cold this room is?' Haq asked.

'The whole building feels cold to me, but this room is colder than the rest. What is causing the temperature drop?'

'The base model here is extracting heat from the air. The fundamental problem with these models is that the Cromite always live in close proximity to each other. When we first put twenty of these models together, the air in the room practically froze. We compared their results with those of Haq, who was reproduced as a control model, and found that adding human features, such as a layer of skin tissue and hair, further decreases the models' heat extraction; as a result, they are then unable to maintain a functional body temperature. The problem appears to be insurmountable. Is there anything else you need while you are here?'

Will looked around the austere furnishings and the motionless model sat on the chair. He thought again of Lim, spending every night there on her own, waiting for the others to die. 'What will you do when these models are gone? Will you go the same way, or could you save yourself by reverting to Cromite?'

'This first batch has been an experiment, and none of the models, including me, are able to revert to Cromite. However, I am unlike Haq; I was created to adapt to my surroundings, so my body has already made some adjustments in order to survive. I am not about to die.'

'Why were you made differently?'

'I do not know the answer to that question. After the models have gone, I will remain in contact with the Cromite and respond to their requests.'

Will shook his head. 'I have to go back now, but I don't want to leave you here on your own. Will you come with me?'

'I cannot. I need to stay here until the end. After that, if the Cromite no longer require my services, I will terminate myself.'

#####  Chapter Twelve

Three days later, Will received a call from Lim requesting a meeting. He retraced his route to the naval base where Lim met him outside the headquarters building.

'Greetings, Will,' Lim said. 'The Cromite wish to speak to you about the future.'

'It's good to see you again,' Will said. 'How is Haq?'

'Haq has passed away,' Lim said.

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'It was inevitable. The other models have also died.' She led the way to the room containing the Cromite crystals.

'The Cromite send their greetings, and I will translate for them,' Lim said. 'The Cromite has recognized that the UV content of the light on Vennica is too low to allow a civilisation to be created. Due to the insurmountable problems concerning the Transition process, it has now abandoned the New Life project. Instead, the remaining Cromite wish to return to the asteroid from which they were originally taken. After they have relocated to the asteroid, they will continue the search for a more suitable planet, high in ultraviolet light. They ask if you can provide transport to find the asteroid.'

'Does the Cromite know the whereabouts of the asteroid?' Will asked.

'The alien will locate and navigate to the asteroid.'

'Very well,' Will said. 'Tell the Cromite that I will make enquiries at government level and convey its response through you.'

Lim led Will back to his auto.

'Did you receive the transcript?' Lim asked.

'Yes. It was very illuminating.'

'Was the caller the Vice President?'

'It certainly was,' Will said. 'Warren Hall is totally opposed to the whole New Life experiment and would close it down tomorrow if he could, but with the transcript in our possession, I think we might be able to use it to keep him at arm's length. What will happen to you now?'

Lim smiled. 'Thank you for your concern. I am not going to terminate myself, if that is what you mean. I am the only survivor of the New Life, and the Cromite want me to complete one further task.'

'What is that?'

'They want me to travel with them to find their asteroid.'

Reverend Daniel Wilcox, religious advisor to the Vennican government, was in a confident mood when he walked into the President's meeting room, until his eyes alighted on the tall figure of Milo de Villiers. Memories of their last meeting and the subsequent investigation of his church quickly soured his mood. Milo responded with a curt nod when Victor introduced Daniel to the room, which also contained the Vice President, Warren Hall, and the Chief Government Scientist, Robin Eastwood, plus their assistants. They all sat down around a massive conference table.

'When the New Life first appeared on the scene, I said I would examine the practicalities of accepting it into our society,' Victor explained. 'I've called this meeting today to try to obtain a definitive feeling about this subject from the various sections of Vennican communities, and I want us to act as a steering committee until we can establish local representatives to act on behalf of individual groups. Please stay on message; I don't want these meetings to be hijacked by lobby groups. Most of you here will be familiar with the New Life concept, so let's start with you, Reverend Wilcox. What are your religious views on the alien life form referred to as the New Life?'

'I think I represent all religions when I say that the creation of life is a joyous and holy event,' Daniel said. 'Lim was not born of man and woman; this was a unique event and in biblical terms, Lim is effectively a new messiah. We must disregard all talk of aliens and recognise that this is the start of a new religion, and, as such, it should be awarded international recognition and a charitable status.'

'Well, that is one way of looking at it,' Victor said, 'but with half a million specimens waiting to be created, it doesn't sound like a particularly unique or holy event to me.'

'The jury is still out on what exactly took place during that supposed creation,' Robin interrupted. 'We have never seen the experiment repeated, and, quite frankly, it cannot be explained.'

'We cannot disregard something we witnessed taking place before our eyes,' Milo said. 'An alien life form was created by another, unseen, alien; the veracity of what we witnessed is not in question.'

'Further tests will be required to establish exactly what these so-called aliens are really about,' Robin countered. 'We cannot move forward until we know what we are dealing with.'

'Haq was confirmed to be an alien when the medics examined her and found no trace of a skeleton, only a hollow shell of a body filled with fluid. Why do you consider it necessary to repeat the process?'

'But that model died,' Warren interjected. 'It is clearly an unsustainable form of life that is unsuited to the conditions on this planet and should be considered as such.'

'You are wrong,' Milo said. 'Before Haq died, she intercepted a message from a government minister to the senior medic in attendance calling for the test results to be altered to confirm that Haq was human and to arrange her death to look like an accident. Moments after that call was received, Haq was dead. The person making that call was responsible for her death and subsequent mutilation.'

'On what are you basing these accusations?' Warren asked

Victor tried to end the argument. 'Milo, let's not become side-tracked. We must move forward. Warren, change the subject.'

'I suggest that Milo should stand down from this committee,' Warren said, ignoring the President. 'He is too close to the problem and is biased against achieving a solution that benefits the entire planet.'

Milo reached into his writing case and pulled out a sealed envelope. 'Fortunately, I have here a transcript of that call, which includes the identification codes of the sender and receiver.'

'If the call was made on a government messager, it would have been encrypted and impossible to hack into,' Warren objected. 'Whatever is in that so-called transcript must be a fake.'

'Then perhaps we should clarify the situation,' Milo said. 'This envelope also contains a voice recording of the conversation. All we need to do is run it through one of the Security Service's analysers and it will positively identify the caller's voice.'

Warren went quiet. Milo handed the envelope to Victor.

Victor sighed as he accepted the envelope. He held it between his hands and slowly turned it over as he stared at it. 'An inter-party squabble is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I'm not going to take any action because I simply don't have the time or energy to devote to this issue. Warren, you take care of it.'

To Milo's dismay, Victor pushed the envelope to the centre of the table.

A look of relief flooded Warren's face as he reached out to take the envelope.

'On second thoughts,' Victor said, retrieving the envelope, 'I think I had better hang onto it. I will keep it in a safe place until I can find time to read it.' He slipped the envelope inside his correspondence folder.

The Vice President sat, frozen.

'Are you okay, Warren?' Milo asked. 'You look pale; would you like a glass of water?'

Victor slapped his hands on the table in exasperation. 'Would anyone else like a glass of water while we're at it? Or maybe some light refreshments?' he snapped. 'Now, if we're all finished sparring, let's continue with what we set out to do. I suggest we start by stretching our imaginations to look one year ahead and see if we can work out what kind of situation we will be in.' He slowly looked around the table. 'I am assuming, of course, that we will all be here in a year's time.'

The next morning, Glen was back in the government building, reorganising her office, when her aide came in, looking perturbed.

'Will Avery has turned up with someone who wants to see you,' she said. 'She's waiting outside.'

'You appear to be concerned,' Glen said. 'What's the problem?'

'She looks just like that woman on the video.'

Glen laughed. 'Then she will be Lim – the official point of contact for the New Life. Show her in.'

The aide left, still looking unconvinced, and Lim entered the room. Glen walked over and hugged her. 'Welcome Lim. Come and sit down and tell me what progress you are making with the Transition.'

'Thank you.' Lim took a seat. 'I've come to inform you that the Transition has been suspended.'

Glen was taken by surprise. 'What has happened?'

'The models we made have all died. The planet does not receive sufficient Ultra Violet light to sustain them. I have discussed this with Will.'

'Was there no way of saving them?'

'No. Not all of the Cromite is in agreement with the decision to cancel the Transition, but it was reached by consensus. The Cromite would now like to return to their asteroid and continue to search for a more suitable planet to live on. They are asking if your government would provide a ship for that purpose.'

'That is a shame. Where does this leave you?'

'Since my creation, I have learnt a lot about the human race, particularly from Will, who has taken me under his wing. I could be of use to this government. If a ship is made available, I would like to travel with the Cromite as their point of contact, and once we reach the asteroid, I will terminate my existence. Would you be prepared to help me?'

'Of course,' Glen said. 'Did I hear you correctly? Did you say you were going to terminate yourself?'

'Yes. It is part of the plan. That will happen when I am no longer required.'

'I am sorry that things did not work out as planned,' Glen said. 'I will discuss this with Milo, but I am sure that we will be able to assist you with your request for transport.'

'And I will be sorry to say goodbye.' Lim replied.

Cara was lying in bed at night, writing up her journal, when Al arrived home late. He walked into the bedroom and collapsed, face down, on the bed.

'I'm absolutely knackered,' he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. 'Wake me up next week.'

'Why were you working so late?' Cara asked.

Al rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. 'The whole government is in turmoil. The Cromite is pulling out of this New Life experiment, which means that the Power Project, which is the VP's baby, is about to be cancelled due to the lack of Cromite crystals. The VP, Warren Hall, is now mustering support to replace Victor Harrington as President. That damned Cromite has divided the government. It's like watching a bad movie. Thank God I only have to spend a few more weeks working in that madhouse.'

'Maybe I could write about it,' Cara suggested.

'I suggest you wait a little longer until everything starts to settle down. The Power Project consortium, led by the Phasewave Company, is now about to sue the government for damages. Apparently, the Company was the only one of the consortium to put up any money; the others couldn't raise funds because the banks stopped lending after the fires started up again in Southland. It is complicated. To make things worse, talk is that if Warren makes President, he is going to cancel the export of the Cromite and reallocate it to the Power Project.'

'Is Milo involved anywhere in these proceedings?'

'Milo seems to operate beneath the radar, so I don't think anyone is after him. However, I am beginning to think Victor should step down. He is old and unwell and isn't really up to doing that job.'

'I'm surprised to hear you say that,' Cara said. 'Maybe I should start doing articles about the bad guys, starting with the Phasewave Company and the VP.'

Al climbed off the bed and started undressing.

'I have some news for you,' Cara said. 'I have been offered a new job.'

'Only this morning, you told me that you had the best job in the world,' Al responded. 'What has changed between breakfast and dinner?'

Cara smiled and put aside her journal. 'My friend and confidant, Will Avery, called, and we met up for lunch. Amelia, the real one – not the clone called Lim – is staying with him, and he wants to set up a company to look after her interests. He wants me to join the company and take care of its advertising and PR stuff.'

'That sounds like an interesting proposition,' Al said. 'What did you say?'

'I told him I would think about it. This comes at a bad time for me because I have just received a promotion, but I doubt there will be any more opportunities to produce a story as good as the last one. Amelia is very much in demand for promotional work, and she is going to earn a fortune. The company is also going to employ a Security Service agent called Sam Sergeant. She is the blonde woman who appeared on the video, and I suspect she is going to act as Amelia's minder.'

'Is that the kind of thing you are looking for?' Al asked.

'I'm tempted, but I need to speak to Will again to clear up a few points.'

Al pulled on his shorts and climbed into bed. 'It looks like you could end up working for a company where cash is no object. That has got to be a good deal.'

'There is a first time for everything,' Cara replied.

Al yawned and closed his eyes. 'Wake me up in a week's time. You may have made up your mind by then.'

#####  Chapter Thirteen

Warren Hall was wary when he knocked on the private door to the President's office. Convinced that Victor had discovered his attempts to raise support for a vote of no confidence against the President, he had already prepared several responses in anticipation. Victor himself opened the door and affably waved Warren inside. They sat in armchairs with a coffee table between them. An envelope had been casually placed on the table, and Warren immediately recognised it as being the one containing the messager transcript incriminating him in Haq's death. So that was it, he thought, Victor had read the transcript and was going to take action against him.

'First of all I would like to give you a present,' Victor said. 'He reached under the table and pulled out a plastic bag, which he handed to Warren.

'What is this?' Warren cautiously enquired.

'Open it and take a look.'

Warren peeled back the top of the bag and peered inside. He recoiled violently. 'What the f ...! What in God's name is this?' he said, covering his nose. 'It stinks!'

'Sorry about that. I meant to warn you. That bag contains parts of the shroud and winding cloths that Glen Sommers' body was wrapped in for four months.' He reached over to his desk and retrieved an envelope. 'Inside this envelope are copies of two independent reports which conclude that, without a shadow of doubt, the DNA on those items is Glen's. I have presented this evidence to the Judiciary who have now withdrawn the arrest warrants for Milo and Glen. The case is officially closed.'

'That cannot be right,' Warren said. 'He is getting away with murder.'

'Warren, after Milo told me what had happened, I was the country's leading sceptic, but since then we have both witnessed the creation of another life form, so I no longer find it difficult to accept that the impossible has now become possible. I cannot explain how Glen was resurrected, but I want you to put that affair behind you. You may take these reports and evidence if you wish. I now need to talk to you about something much more serious – the Cromite situation. Following my decision to facilitate the return of the Cromite to its asteroid, I am very much aware of your concerns about losing it as a fuel source for the Power Project.'

'We broke our word to the consortium,' Warren said. 'Cromite is just a bunch of crystals, and you are giving it priority over our own citizens. We are not obligated to put the demands of a non-human entity above the entitlement of our population to a source of cheap power. The appropriate usage of a renewable energy source to replace a dwindling supply of carbon-based alternatives is a no-brainer. Once the Power Project is up and running, we can export the technology to the Colonies and Outstations. That will be a real game-changer, and the projected profits would supply free power to meet the needs of the planet Vennica. You are overlooking a serious consideration.'

'I understand your sentiments, Warren, but I have greater concerns,' Victor said. 'Although the Cromite only wanted to create half a million specimens of the New Life, we have already collected over one and a half million crystals. At this moment in time, those crystals are now stored in a warehouse at Shuttleport awaiting transportation off-planet. The packed crystals are the same ones that first caused the fires in Southland and almost rendered the planet uninhabitable. Following that, the damage caused by the second round of fires was much more serious, and the crystals had become immune to anything that we could throw at them. It was only after we agreed to accept the New Life into our society that they died down. I am now comparing our present situation to one of sitting on an unexploded nuclear bomb. The Cromite are still under the impression that they are being returned to their asteroid, and if they find out that we are once again planning to use them as power fuel, I think they are going to react with a violent response, a response far greater than anything we have witnessed so far. The scale is frightening – if one and a half million Cromite crystals were all to revert to Cromite Type B, they could probably burn a hole through to the centre core of the planet, and I doubt they would show much concern for the welfare of the human population that reneged on its agreement.'

'Once again, you are treating the Cromite like humans, which they patently aren't,' Warren said.

Victor held up his hand. 'Warren, a few kilometres from where we are now sitting is the biggest concentration ever of Cromite crystals, and I have toured Southland and seen the devastation that just a few handfuls of the crystals can cause. Whether they are human or not, I think I can guarantee they will react aggressively to any change in their status. The potential damage they are capable of causing would make the costs of your Power Project fade into insignificance. I actually believe that they would be prepared to destroy our planet.'

'We have already covered these points in previous discussions,' Warren said. 'Where is this conversation leading?'

'Warren, I need you to back me on this one.'

'Why should I?'

'Because I am considering taking early retirement,' Victor said.

Warren was surprised. 'I wasn't aware of that. Is it public knowledge?'

'You are the first to hear it, and I wanted you to be the first.'

'When are you thinking of leaving?'

'It will take months to hand over power and sort out a new cabinet. Normally in this type of situation, the Vice President would automatically take over as President, providing of course that the President were to nominate him as a successor. If not, an election would need to be held, and the position would then be opened up to the field. That could considerably extend the process.'

Warren thought frantically. The trap was being sprung. How? His gaze kept falling onto the envelope on the table, but Victor appeared unaware of its existence. He went onto the attack. 'There is nobody else in this government who could do your job; it must be mine.'

'You are forgetting that Milo has already been President,' Victor countered.

'He was only a caretaker President during a state of emergency,' Warren pointed out.

'Warren, we both know that Milo does not have to prove that he can do the job; he has more than once demonstrated his capabilities.'

Warren was becoming confused. 'What exactly do you want from me? Why did you ask me here?'

'Before we go any further, there is an issue we need to resolve.' Victor picked up the envelope from the table and handed it to Warren.

Warren cautiously accepted the envelope, noting that it appeared to be still sealed.

'You may do what you want with that,' Victor said. 'Now, may I count on your support?'

Warren stared at the envelope. 'Have you seen the contents of this envelope?'

Victor shook his head. 'No, I haven't had the opportunity.'

'Then I agree to give you my support.'

'Thank you,' Victor said. He stood up to escort Warren to the door, but stopped by his desk. 'I am assuming that there could be some sensitive content in that document. Perhaps you would like to use my document shredder.'

Warren immediately became suspicious. 'I would first like to examine its contents.'

'Go ahead and open it.' Victor searched Warren's face as he quickly scanned the document and attached voice memo.

'Is this the original message? Warren asked.

'I understand from Milo that this is the only copy and that the original electronic version no longer exits.'

Warren put the contents back into the envelope and handed it to Victor. He nodded his head, and Victor dropped the envelope into the shredder. The machine whirred into life and a red light flashed as the envelope was pulled inside. After a few seconds, a green light illuminated, and the machine turned off.

'Now it is no more,' Victor said. 'Some things are best left unsaid and unread.' He held out his hand. 'I thank you for coming here today.'

The two men shook hands, both satisfied with the outcome of the meeting. Once he was outside the office, Warren could hardly suppress his excitement. Milo had been kicked into touch, and the President's job was now his! He didn't give a damn about the whining Phasewave Company or the stupid Cromite. He had the job, and the incriminating transcript had been destroyed. It was now up to him to select his cabinet and getting rid of Milo would be his first task. It was something he was eagerly anticipating.

Milo looked out of his office window while he considered the request Will had just made. He swivelled his chair back to the desk. 'Are you sure you want to spend a year of your life in space chasing an asteroid? It's a long time to be away on your own.'

'It will give me a chance to reflect on my future,' Will said. 'There is another reason: I have just been investigated by the Financial Regulator.'

'Isn't that what you were concerned about when you first contacted me?'

'Yes. They have now been through all my accounts and have not found anything illegal.'

'Surely that is a good result.'

'You obviously have not met these inspectors. They have now made me an offer: accept a five million dollar fine and a ban on trading for six months or be subject to permanent surveillance on my activities.'

'How can they do that if they haven't found anything wrong?'

'It's a standoff. They know that I can afford the fine and that I don't want any hassle. I will accept the offer because I don't want to waste any more time dealing with the authorities. After all the recent excitement, I am looking forward to a bit of peace and quiet. Don't forget, I will have Lim's company on the way out, and after we have dropped off the Cromite, I will be able to travel back with the crew. I am looking forward to taking some money from them on the card table.'

'You have obviously thought it through,' Milo said. 'Changing the subject while I remember, I have heard that Sam has left the Security Service. What caused her to do that?'

'I think that may have been my fault,' Will said. 'I set up a company to look after Amelia's interests, and both Amelia and Sam now work for that company. We have also employed our favourite journalist, Cara Wilson, to look after the PR side.'

'I hope I didn't do or say anything to prompt Sam's move.'

'You didn't. Sam felt privileged to have taken part in the recent events, but a golden opportunity popped up and she took it.'

'I think the Service will miss her,' Milo said. 'What does she think about your imminent absence?'

Will hesitated before speaking. 'Actually, we aren't together any more. Sam has returned to her previous partner, Amelia.'

Milo stared at Will. 'Say again.'

'It's complicated,' Will said.

Milo overcame his surprise. 'Will, the word "complicated" can never do justice to the events in your private life. I'm sorry to hear that though; I thought you two were an item. May I ask what went wrong?'

'Same old story – she packed her bags and fled.' Will laughed. 'Actually, it was by mutual agreement, and we parted on good terms. Sam and Amelia will be looking after my apartment while I am away. Cara's a bit of a party girl, but so long as they don't party every night, they shouldn't cause too much damage.'

'I'm starting to feel detached from this modern world of ours,' Milo said. 'Either the planet is spinning faster or I am slowing down. Perhaps I should retire and take Glen away to one of the valleys.'

'You have got years of work ahead of you,' Will said. 'If you quit, who will keep this government on the straight and narrow?'

'I'm sure there are plenty of young, aspiring candidates out there. Well, if you have made up your mind, I have no objections to your proceeding on this mission. However, I am unhappy about Lim having to terminate herself after the Cromite has been offloaded; that doesn't sound right to me.'

'I have tried to talk Lim out of it, but she genuinely doesn't appear to have any options.'

'It seems to be a tragic waste of life, but we must bear in mind that she isn't human,' Milo said. 'What is the plan?'

'It will take approximately one year to travel to the asteroid and back. The alien will navigate to the last known co-ordinates of the asteroid and then track it from there. On the outbound leg, the Cromite, Lim and I will occupy a section of the ship separate from the main structure and which will be sealed off in accordance with transport safety regulations. We will only be able to communicate with the crew, when necessary, over the intercom. The crew include engineers who will arrange and supervise the offloading of the Cromite into the asteroid.'

'That sounds straightforward. You will, of course, remain on my payroll as the Cromite Liaison Officer until you return.'

'Thank you,' Will said, 'but what will you do from now on?'

'I don't know. The government never seems to learn from its mistakes, and the Cromite's decision to pull out of the New Life program has put the whole political structure under pressure, not to mention the Phasewave Company's law suit against the government.'

'Nothing new there, then,' Will commented.

'I wish you could sort out the whole Phasewave Company for me, just as you did their Base Manager.'

'That was just another of those unfortunate rumours that follow me round,' Will said.

'Of course it was,' Milo said, with a smile. 'Just like the freestyle fighting.'

Will laughed and changed the conversation. 'While we are on the subject of rumours, I heard talk of the VP's intention to depose the President, and if he were to succeed, he would commandeer the Cromite and reallocate it to the Power Project. Are we at risk?'

'I heard those rumours as well,' Milo said, 'but it didn't happen. Victor had words with Warren, and he backed off. The Cromite is safe.'

'I assume you will deny playing any part of that deal.'

Milo sat back on his seat and folded his arms. He smiled expansively. 'I try to steer clear of the politics around here, but I did have to remind Victor of something he was keeping in his safe. Something you once gave to me.'

'Ah, so the transcript did turn out to be useful after all.'

'I can only assume that it did. Now this is for your ears only: Victor is going to stand down in six months' time. He has not been in the best of health for some time, and the strain of these last few weeks has made him reconsider his appointment.'

'That is a shame. Are you in line for his job?'

'No. I've been there once and didn't particularly enjoy it. In all probability, Warren will take over.'

'How would you feel about working with Warren?'

'I've worked with worse, but I do have a get-out-of-jail card up my sleeve.'

'What's that?'

'It's something you once gave me and which is now safely locked in my safe.'

'I see. How did you manage to get hold of the transcript?'

'I wasn't involved in the earlier negotiations on that subject, but I understand that Victor's shredding machine was on the blink when he spoke to Warren. You definitely need to store ammunition if you work in this place. Moving on, Phasewave Unit Four has now been decommissioned and is in the process of being demolished, and I am pleased to say that everyone who has been involved in these goings-on is now looking forward to seeing the end of aliens and Cromite and returning to normal.'

'If only it were that easy,' Will said.

Will sat and watched the sprawling shape of the Spaceport complex dwindle against the huge bulk of the Vennica moon as their ship accelerated away from it. He switched off the viewing screen and turned to Lim. 'Well, Lim, there's no going back now,' he said. 'Do you have any regrets?'

'I have no regrets,' Lim replied. 'I am pleased that the Cromite has been rescued instead of being turned into power for domestic consumption.'

Will looked around their accommodation, which had been cobbled together for their journey inside what had obviously once been a cargo bay. The Cromite crystals were packed in an adjoining compartment. 'I hope you don't get bored on the journey. There are plenty of films for you to watch.'

'You promised to teach me how to play cards.'

Will playfully objected, 'But I am a gambler, and you don't have any money to gamble with.'

'Once you have shown me what to do, I will take money from you.' Lim smiled. 'I think I will be very good at what you call gambling.'

'That sounds like a challenge. In the meantime, I'm going to get something to eat. I take it you won't be joining me.'

'That is correct, but I will sit with you while you eat.'

Will entered the compact galley and checked the supply store, which contained an unimaginative choice of preserved foods. He decided that it was going to provide a very staid diet until they reached the asteroid, at which point he would join the ship's crew for the return journey and have access to some decent food. He made himself a toasted sandwich from reconstituted meat and sat down next to Lim. 'Do you ever get tired?' he asked.

'Yes, but if my energy level drops, I top up with a UV lamp in my room.'

Will looked down at his unappetising single-portion serving. 'I'm beginning to think that you have got the better deal,' he said.

No matter how hard Will tried, he could not get used to the fact that Lim did not eat or sleep. She was going to be strange company for the next six months, but he actually liked her, and she had developed a sense of humour.

After his meal, Will took Lim by the hand and led her out of the room.

'Where are we going?' Lim asked.

'I have a surprise for you,' Will said, entering his bedroom. A large packing case sat in the centre of the room. Will raised its lid to reveal layers of women's clothing. 'Amelia has sent you clothes to wear on the voyage. She said you are the same size and shape so they are bound to fit you.'

Lim was pleased. She picked out a blouse and held it against her. 'This is nice, but I have no need of these clothes.'

'Amelia is an artist, and she has excellent taste,' Will said. 'That tunic you have been wearing forever has definitely had its day, and it is now time for you to say goodbye. It will probably take you six months to go through all these new clothes. Amelia bought them especially for you; she thought they would help you while away the boredom of the journey.'

'That is very kind of her. I will send her a message of thanks.'

They returned to the lounge and sat at a table.

Will picked up a pack of cards and expertly shuffled them. 'Watch me, and I'll teach you how to play,' he said, 'but I must warn you that I'm a pretty good player, and you could live to regret this.'

'Just deal the cards,' Lim said.

#####  Chapter Fourteen

One year later

'What's causing the delay?' Glen stood on her toes and tried to peer over the heads of the passengers arriving in the terminal.

Cara looked around the shabby interior of the Shuttleport arrivals hall, where crowds of people, all wearing worn and tired expressions under the glow of green overhead lights, jostled past them on their way to further, unknown, destinations. 'This place could do with a good makeover. It hasn't been touched for years, and just look at the number of people passing through.'

Amelia and Sam joined them. 'Sorry we're late,' Sam said. 'I couldn't find anywhere to park.'

'There's no rush,' Glen said. 'Trust Will not to be on time. He's had a year to plan this day, and now he's keeping us waiting.'

'Has anybody recently been in touch with him?' Sam asked.

'He spoke to Milo when he docked at Spaceport,' Glen said. 'For some reason, he was having a problem with Border Control, but that's all I know. He obviously got it sorted because he was definitely booked on the shuttle that just arrived.'

'Maybe his documents are out of date,' Amelia suggested.

'Well, this wraps up the Cromite and alien saga for good,' Glen said, 'so there shouldn't be any more surprises. Thank God.'

'Will is going to be happy to be back after sending the Cromite on its way,' Sam said. 'He must have been lonely on the journey.'

'There he is!' Cara pointed across the terminal.

Will spotted their group and broke away from the moving line. He gave them a wave.

'He is looking older,' Sam commented. 'Who is that woman with him?'

The three of them stared at a woman with very long, dark hair who was holding onto Will's arm.

'It must be someone he met on the return journey,' Sam commented. 'She looks a bit like Amelia.'

'It's Lim!' Glen exclaimed. 'What is she doing back here?'

'She is not travelling alone,' Amelia added. 'Is that a baby- bump I can see?'

The couple approached, and it became obvious that Lim was pregnant.

'I thought that was not supposed to happen,' Sam observed.

The parties came together and exchanged emotional hugs and greetings. Glen teared up.

'Welcome back, Will,' Sam said. 'It's great to see you.'

'We did not expect to see Lim again,' Amelia added.

'I'm sorry for the delay,' Will said. He gently placed his hand on Lim's stomach. 'I had a bit of trouble getting Lim through immigration.'

He saw the questioning look on the women's faces.

'I think I owe you all an explanation,' he said.

Will was shown into Milo's office by his aide. Milo's attitude was not welcoming as he gestured Will to take a seat.

'Will, I have known you for some time,' Milo said, 'and you have never failed to surprise me, but you have now surpassed yourself.' He held up a document for Will to see. 'This is government authorisation for Lim and her offspring to become Vennican citizens, but before I approve it and you accept to be their sponsor, there are additional facts I need to be acquainted with.'

'Go ahead,' Will said. 'I knew this moment would arrive.'

'Let's leave the guesswork to one side, shall we? Under common law, Lim cannot exist on Vennica as a stateless person, so after much debate, the new President, Warren Hall, and his cabinet have bounced the case back to me, in my capacity of Security Secretary, for action. Lim has been checked and certified as human, despite a lack of DNA, which is also a first of its kind, and I now need you to satisfy me that granting her citizenship is the correct course of action. What concerns me most is that after you and Lim arrived at Spaceport, I personally over-rode Border Control and gave you permission to land on Vennica, but during our conversation on that subject, you failed to make me aware that Lim had become human and that she was pregnant. You will also have to prove to me that you intend to care for the unborn child, if it is yours.'

'I was desperate to get back to Vennica and couldn't face any more delays,' Will responded. 'Actually, it is a daughter, and it is definitely mine.'

'How can you be so certain?' Milo asked.

'I don't think you want to know.'

Milo bit his tongue and glared at Will. 'Just stick to the facts and tell me what happened on the voyage.'

'Lim learnt how to play cards and took money off me,' Will said, laughing. 'Some things can never be forgiven.'

'I am glad you find this amusing. You might not be so flippant if Lim is refused status and expelled from Vennica, which is my only other option. Let's start with some basics. When Lim left Vennica, she was an Amelia clone who was going to self-destruct after the Cromite was offloaded into its asteroid. Instead, she returned here, very much alive, except that in the meantime she had somehow turned into a human being and become pregnant. Forgive my ignorance and total lack of understanding in such affairs, but would you like to explain exactly how that happened?'

Will hesitated. 'How deep are you willing to delve? You could accept Lim and her daughter as humans and citizens and not ask too many questions, in which case we would all probably live happily ever after. Alternatively, I will tell you everything that took place, but I think that you will not like what you hear.'

Milo stared at Will and tried to work out where he was coming from. He also knew, however, that he never ducked a challenge, and would not rest until he found out what Will was so reluctant to reveal. 'Let's take a break for a moment.' He called Margaret and asked for coffee to be sent in. For small talk while waiting for the coffee to arrive, he asked if Lim, having become human, had inherited Amelia's personality and characteristics.

'No,' Will said. 'She is a completely different person. It's difficult to describe, but the only background Lim was exposed to after she was created was her time with the Cromite and with me. She has had very little contact with other humans.'

The coffee arrived and Milo poured them each a cup. 'Are you trying to protect me from something?' he asked.

'You could put it that way. When I left on the voyage, I got the distinct impression that everyone was pleased to see the back of the Cromite and the alien.'

'That would be an understatement. Am I then to understand that whatever happened during your time away will destroy that assumption?'

'That might be one way of putting it.'

Milo thought carefully. 'I became involved with all of this when the alien first appeared on the scene, and it is only right for me to finish what I started. Tell me everything that happened.'

'I knew you would want to find out,' Will said.

'Did you get a message from the future?' Milo asked sarcastically.

'No. That's just the kind of person you are.'

'Okay, start from the beginning, the point where you taught Lim to play cards.'

'Lim was unexpectedly good company on the journey,' Will commenced. 'We played games and watched films together, and I taught her how to gamble. That was a big mistake because she took me to the cleaners. She had a mind like a razor and always won. In the end, she was wiping me out, and I refused to play with her.'

'How come she was so good with the cards?'

'You won't believe it, but she was reading my mind.'

'What?'

'It's true. She had inherited the Cromite trick of voiceless contact and was picking up my thoughts, so every time I looked at my hand, she saw what I saw and knew my every move in advance. No wonder she kept winning.'

'Was she being devious?'

'No, she was just being courteous. It never occurred to her that it wasn't supposed to work like that. She obviously thought I was a complete plank for playing the way I did, but she was too polite to point it out.'

'How did you find out?'

'One day we were playing poker, and I jokingly commented that it looked like she was reading my mind. She was puzzled and said she assumed I knew that. End of game.'

Milo was forced to laugh. 'What it was like living with her? What did she talk about?'

'Because Lim had not been exposed to society, she only had knowledge of a limited range of subjects, and any additional information, such as news bulletins, went straight over her head. Every activity-time, Lim used to visit the Cromite in the adjoining cargo container and communicate with them. She did not eat or sleep, and we occupied separate rooms. However, during one sleep-time I woke up unexpectedly and found Lim sitting on a chair, watching me in the dark. I asked her what she was doing, and she said she never slept and often came into my room to keep me company and watch over me while I snored and dreamed.'

'How did you feel about that?'

'I didn't really mind because she was not human, and there was nothing untoward in her actions. After a while, I did find it a bit unnerving though, and she was apologetic and offered to stay out of my bedroom, so I said she could lie next to me on top of the bed instead of sitting in the chair; that way I could keep an eye on her. Lim started to lie on top of the bed while I slept, but that did not happen every night; she was always wandering around the place.'

'Is that all?' Milo said. 'I presume there must have been sexual contact at some point, and how was it possible for a clone to become pregnant in the first place?'

'That wasn't even the start of it. I could not work out our relationship. Lim was obviously a copy of Amelia, but the alien had created her flawless, and she was very attractive, especially when she started dressing in the clothes Amelia had bought for her. I found it difficult to believe that she was actually a clone and that I should not be treating her as a human being. After one sleep-time, I woke up and found I was holding Lim's hand. I felt something hard under her skin and jumped out of my wits because I thought I had damaged her in some way. She said I had not hurt her, so I examined her hand and found that bones had grown inside it. I asked her what was happening, and she said that she was growing a skeleton, just like a human being. I was stunned, and then ran my hand down her back and felt a spine and ribs.'

'How did that happen?' Milo interrupted. 'How did an exoskeleton turn into a human skeleton?'

'She started off with an exoskeleton and a hollow body, but she explained that her model was designed to adapt to its surroundings and was changing over to an internal skeleton because it was more applicable to her situation. Shortly afterwards, she asked me if I would cut her hair, which had started to grow. The whole thing was bizarre. Her hair had never grown before, but I looked at it and it was definitely growing, so I told her I liked long hair and to let it grow, which she did.'

Milo topped up their coffees. 'This is one hell of a story,' he said.

'It gets stranger still. I developed feelings for her, which I tried not to reveal, but I knew she was reading my mind, and I started to worry about the fact that she was due to terminate herself after we found the asteroid. One time I was lying next to Lim and noticed that her breath was warm. Her breath had always been cold because she was extracting energy from the air she was taking into her lungs. She then said that she had changed and was almost a fully developed human being. She asked me to feel her pulse and, sure enough, she did have a pulse, so she obviously had developed internal organs. I did not understand what was happening, and Lim did not make a big deal of it; she just went about her business as usual. Then, during one activity-time, she said she was hungry and ate her first meal, and later took her first sleep. To all intents and purposes, she had become a fully formed human being, and I fell for her in a big way. She was still sleeping on top of the covers during sleep-time, but on one occasion, after I had fallen asleep, she took off her clothes and got into bed with me and we made love. I had reservations about what was happening, but I was unable to stop myself.'

'What did she think about all this?' Milo said.

'She completely accepted it. We became an item, but as we approached the asteroid, the thought of what was going to happen to her started to prey on my mind, and I was determined not to let Lim self-destruct. She could no longer read my mind, but she picked up my concerns and told me not to worry and that she would sort something out. We later made love and fell asleep, but halfway through the night I woke with a blinding headache and saw coloured lights flashing around inside my head. It didn't last long, and I couldn't work out what had caused it.'

'I think I can explain what caused it,' Milo said.

'Actually, I found out by myself when I woke up the next activity-time to hear someone having a conversation with me. I looked around the room and then realized that the voice was coming from inside my head. The alien was saying hello to me and welcoming me to the world of the insane!'

Will stopped and poured himself another coffee.

'I feel for you because that is exactly what happened to me,' Milo said. 'What had the alien lined you up for?'

'The alien explained that Lim had transformed into a normal human being and would not be required to self-terminate, for which I was very grateful. She was to return to Vennica with me. The alien then told me that he had a special mission for me; I was to act as guardian to Lim and her unborn daughter. When I heard that, I nearly fell off the bed.'

'Did you know Lim was pregnant?'

'I had no idea; I had never considered that possibility. Anyway, I asked the alien if Lim was aware of her pregnancy, and it said that it would inform her when it instructed her to return to Vennica.'

'Why did the alien want Lim to return to Vennica?' Milo asked, with a feeling of dread.

'Here's the rub. The alien told me that the two of them, Amelia and her child, are the forerunners of a new human race, the one it attempted to produce years earlier. It said that Lim and I are finally about to change the history of humankind by introducing a highly intelligent and peaceful race of people who will, over the years to come, influence society and ensure survival of the species.'

Milo accepted the news with a heavy heart. 'Where is the alien now?' he asked.

'It is in me and Lim,' Will replied. 'The alien informed us that it would stay with us but be inactive; it would be there for us in times of need, and its main concern would be the protection of Lim's daughter.'

'Is there anything else I should know?'

'No, that's about it. We dropped off the Cromite and then returned to Spaceport, and all the while during the journey home I worried about how everyone would react when we reached Vennica.'

'I think that Glen and the others took a step back when they first saw Lim,' Milo said, 'but they all wish you well. After living through the resurrection of bodies and the creation of aliens, they actually find your situation to be quite believable. Is Lim happy with your arrangement?'

'She is over the moon, and this whole parent thing is knocking me out.'

'What about the future? Do you think you will be able to develop as a family?'

'Lim needs me, and so will her daughter when she arrives. I feel very privileged to be in this position, and you are aware that I have enough material wealth to provide for both of them.'

Milo sighed. 'So I now know that the alien is back. Well, I asked for it. To satisfy my own curiosity, I would like you to clarify a few more points. You once said that Lim and Haq were different models of the New Life, but only Lim had the ability to change. What was the reason for that?'

'When the alien and Cromite met up in my apartment, they agreed to produce a working model that satisfied both their needs. That process, by the way, took less than a second from start to finish; both the alien and Cromite exchanged data at a phenomenal speed. The alien then produced Haq based on Glen's DNA, which it already had in its possession after restoring her. However, when it produced Lim, which was based on Amelia, it decided to use the purer version of Amelia's genetic imprint to create the model rather than use raw DNA, which contains genetic faults. Initially, there was no noticeable physical difference between the two models because the alien was mainly concerned with the production of a satisfactory exoskeleton.'

'When did you first find out about that?'

'After the alien contacted me, it gave me a comprehensive rundown on its way of thinking and what it had done. I should have twigged earlier when Lim explained that she was different from the other models by being able to physically adapt to her surroundings. On the voyage out, the alien started to rebuild Lim's body from the inside, replacing the fluid Cromite with organs, flesh and bone, that then absorbed the exoskeleton naturally.'

'If that was possible, why didn't the Cromite adopt Lim's body style instead of sticking to their base models?'

'Lim was produced originally as a short-term test model – her body was equipped with lungs, from which she drew energy, but there was not enough room left inside that model to contain a fully developed New Life form. You could say she is more alien than Cromite.'

'So is she now a physically normal human being, in every sense?'

'Not quite. Lim does not possess DNA or a blood group; she is immune to disease and is unaffected by genetic defects. She is not ageless but is expected to have a lifespan of several hundred years.'

'So Lim has the perfect body, is almost ageless and has a mind of pure energy,' Milo pondered. 'No wonder she beat you at cards!' What is her, sorry your, child going to be like?'

'Physically, she will take after her mother, but she will have my DNA, which has been tweaked to get rid of my head deformity.'

'It sounds like the alien has thought of everything. Do you have a name for her?'

'Lim likes the sound of Alicia. So, have you made up your mind?'

'You mean regarding Lim's citizenship? Haven't you already worked out what I am going to do?'

'We have been through so much together; I think I know by now who you are.'

Milo looked down at the form before him and pulled out his official stamp. He signed the form, pressed it with his seal, and slid it across the desk to Will.

'All you have to do is sign that,' Milo said cynically, 'and then we can all live happily ever after.'

Will smiled. 'If only it were that easy,' he said.

THE END
