 
### Panspermia Deorum

### Seeds of the Gods

### Hylton Smith
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Promethean

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Copyright by Hylton Smith 2016

Smashwords Edition
Introduction

My desire to write, at least in terms of genre, was always going to be science fiction, and I admit I was a willing hostage to imagining the world of the future. After publishing **The Nexus Odyssey** , I broadened my endeavours into other works, such as alternate history, mystery and detective, historical fiction, and even helped publish a friend's romantic fiction novel, albeit with a heavy slice of harrowing drama. I'd like to claim that this was purely driven by exploring new challenges, but apart from **The Jupiter Paradox** , my reservoir of science fiction storylines had become threadbare. And that is the case for the defence. The return to familiar territory feels strange; nevertheless a compulsion. The next few pages will be the true arbiter of such jumbled logic.

Please note that Panspermia Deorum has mixed lingual derivation – 'All seed' being rooted in Greek, and 'of the Gods' stolen from Latin. Indeed the entire story is one of unlikely combinations.

# Chapter 1

Part One: Decline

December 2027

The lengthening shadows and watery sun added to his steadily building irascible demeanour. Julien Delacroix reflected on how this ludicrous situation could have been allowed to develop. He'd never contemplated embracing retirement, regardless of the arbitrary chronological age limit in his contract with NERO. The study of Near Earth Rogue Objects had been his life, a purpose, a vocation, linked to doing his bit for humanity. His other life was now becoming his calling, rather belatedly for his family. How would they handle being suddenly confronted with more of him, the six sevenths which had always been the iceberg under the waves? At sixty-one he had never been more uncertain about anything.

This conference had been arranged for five months, and was the first real attempt to conduct an overarching x-ray of all global threats. For some, it was long overdue, for others it was mission impossible. The mix of outstanding issues provided monumental challenges for the protagonists in the chamber. The first thing they had to overcome was the potential for divisive policy to emerge. At least the unfavourable projections in this year, 2027, regarding the ultimate fate of the planet, were not in dispute. The human race was heading for at least one of many potential death sentences. Massive changes had to be made. The world was at an undeniable crossroads of far-reaching decisions. It was no longer credible to extol the concept that not making a decision was in itself an option.

Arid regions were still expanding, inversely proportionate to world food supply. Population increase was a serious variable in this algebraic formula, as yet without any cohesive resolve to find a consensual solution. Mass migration, beginning in earnest in 2014, had compromised social fabric in a way which was unhelpful to integration and cultural tolerance. Such human tsunamis regularly deluged public services of the host countries to the point where fiscal reconciliation just became another weather report. Forecasts of bad times over which there was no longer any control. In such a gathering meltdown of 'civilised' institution, barbarism was the main benefactor. Religion has never been far away from any power struggle, and it enjoyed a resurgence in the lives of many people; a prosthetic soul with which hope could be preserved. However, its perennial sibling, terrorism, stalked the land in the guise of anti-federalism, meting out the same old brutality to any and all opposition. If anything could be claimed to be a unifying trend, it was the rejection of 'elected but corrupt government', supposedly representing the views of large swathes of citizens. Hegemony was the new way forward, feudalism's virtue was reborn in the cauldron of protest; a cancerous niche of smoking mirrors. The European Union's bankrupt hulk became the 'poster evidence' for such virulent ideology of fragmentation.

Julien's presentation had been scheduled for the penultimate day of the conference. He protested without being heard. His worst fears were acted out, in that subject after subject was kicked into the long grass without any semblance of resolution. Julien was suspended in slow mode, the voices of the speakers were distorted, seemingly winding down, like an old record player coming to a halt. He visualised General Custer's last stand, the silent futility of resistance, inaudible death throes. The lamentable ruling class. These people were capable of meeting interminably, but never found the guts to face their own inertia, thus being perceived as a species destined for an evolutionary dead end. And so they inexplicably continued to strut around their privileged, unchanging hamster wheel, churning out the status quo.

The stated aim of the entire charade had been to prioritise **action** after ranking each and every threat, and any significant interrelation. Julien's compulsion to break out of this fog overwhelmed his logic ramparts. There was no coherent plan forming in his mind as yet, maybe he would think of something. All he knew was that he just couldn't take any more. He wasn't an impulsive man by nature, but strangely his usual stoicism was giving way to knee-jerk reaction. Glancing at his greying temples reminded him that he had already entered NERO's 'zone of disposability'. He could be farmed out to graze the pastures of redundancy without a flicker of remorse. Despite having a guardsman's upright, square-shouldered stance, these people made him feel so dishonest, cowering to the party line, and for what? The announcement of his abrupt departure from the conference was delivered directly to the media, to avoid any face-saving spin being paraded by the organisers. His voice was shaky, nevertheless, he went for the jugular.

"Unlike many other threats which we've discussed in the last few days, my presentation deals with something which isn't dependent upon opinion. There may be multiple ways of adapting 'policy' to reverse trends in lawlessness, however, I have to deal with the deaf ears of the Cosmos. If we don't act to nullify a certain event which will come to pass in twelve years, everything else is irrelevant. Thank you."

The microphone was pushed even closer to his face. A journalist asked him to expand on his prediction. He had his platform.

"It's not a prediction, it's a certainty. In August this year, we knew that Asteroid 1999 A10 was going to pass relatively close to Earth. New data can now be applied to modify the expected journey for this potentially hazardous object. The bad news is that the mathematical implication indicates that this kilometre-size asteroid did pass particularly close to the Earth on August 7, 2027. This passage was actually as close as 22,000 km, rather than the anticipated 37,000 km, from the Earth. Of course, as everyone knows, this additional proximity didn't disrupt our everyday life. But there were measurable, transient, gravitational effects. Fortunately, they were not serious, and there was no need for people to be alarmed. The original predicted margin of this brush with our orbit was not of huge concern, but when the orbit of this asteroid was continually monitored on its chaotic journey through the solar system, we realised that it must have had an altercation with some other stray object, most probably from the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars, or the Kuiper belt, beyond Neptune. Whatever its origin, it seems to have caused a small but crucial nudge into a different trajectory. The probability of a collision in 2027 was still essentially zero."

The journalist responded. "But that's good news isn't it?"

"It is indeed. Unfortunately, it isn't the end of the story."

A different media spokesman interjected. "Why is that? It's gone hasn't it?"

Julien took a deep breath before delivering the bombshell.

"This asteroid, because of the unexpected nudge it received, will return in 2039 on an impacting trajectory. Of course when it does return, it might receive another nudge which could save us from oblivion, but I fear that is unlikely. I'm in the business of probability, not blind faith, and the most optimistic position I can take is one in which we begin preparations now. We have to explore all options to deflect this monster ourselves. I didn't believe that waiting until the penultimate day of the conference to disclose this information would raise the required resolve to tackle the problem with sufficient urgency. I hope that my maverick decision to broadcast this terrible news won't preclude me being part of the task force charged with nullifying such an extinction event. That's all I can say at present."

Within minutes this was world news, and the expected communication came from NERO. It was none other than the chief executive, Sir Ian Waverly.

"What the hell were you thinking, Delacroix? You've dragged the credibility of our organisation into the cesspit of sensationalism, and for what? I have to tell you that we are waiving your notice period and you are dismissed with immediate effect. Get back here and clear your personal belongings from the lab. You will surrender any NERO material which you have with you to the chairman of the conference, all of it. The security people are on their way. Do not board any aircraft until I hear that they have relieved you of all but personal possessions. Is that understood?"

Saliva trickled down Waverly's chin, like venom from a cold-blooded predator. He did vaguely look reptilian, narrowed eyes and heavily accentuated pronunciation of every 'S'.

"Understood and anticipated. However, I can't guarantee that our paths won't cross again. If that does transpire, you may regret this conversation. In contrast, I feel no shame in this revelation to the world. My scripted remit for NERO at this conference shambles was to fool all of the people for some of the time. Twelve years isn't a long time to devise and prep a remedy for the return of 1999 A10, but I guess you'd be chilling in the Bahamas by then, trying to spend your way through an obscene golden handshake. Sorry, I forgot, you don't have any children, do you? I thank you for doing me a favour, publicly dissociating me from your corrupt influence. I feel better already."

Julien cut off the call. He needed to contact his family. The number was engaged. He sent a message asking his wife to call back as soon as possible. His thoughts wandered to exactly how he would garner support for forcing the asteroid problem to the forefront of the global agenda. His phone vibrated.

"Julien? What is going on over there?" Elise Delacroix had seen the TV interviews given by her husband. His statements were totally out of character.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll explain when I get back to Lyon. Please listen carefully. I have to surrender all of my presentation data and other NERO files to security before I can board the plane. After that, I expect there will be an announcement about my position in the company. It will surely be on TV and it might be better if you ask Eugene and Sophie to watch it with you at your sister's place. I'm being fired, so I'll join you there. Can you message me when you get there? I have no idea how my dismissal will be put across by Ian Waverly, but I'd rather you didn't watch it alone. Can you do that for me?"

"They're going to fire you? Why? There's something you're not telling me, Julien."

"I'm sorry, I have to go, Elise. Just let me know when you arrive at your sister's house. Bye for now."

He settled the account at his hotel and waited for the security people in the lobby, after he'd hidden the duplicate memory stick in the men's restroom. Two black limousines arrived and several men, including the conference chairman, swept into reception. He surrendered everything except his airline ticket, bank cards, and loose cash. They even took his precious fountain pen which he'd been given by his father when he graduated from university. He protested but was assured it would be sent to him after it had been examined and declared clean. It was made clear that he would not be allowed to leave Osaka unless he did everything asked of him. He became animated and glared at the conference chairman.

"This is a total infringement of civil liberties, and I'll most certainly take it up with my solicitor in Lyon. Right, you have what you came for, can I just get the hell out of here? I don't want to miss that flight."

A wry smile from one of the security personnel indicated otherwise.

"We'll be taking you to the airport, sir. You won't miss your flight. Now let's visit the men's room. We need to scan you without clothes, and see if we need to do an internal body search."

"What? What the hell do you hope to find? A bomb? Haemorrhoids? The Sun? This is a bloody farce and you know it is. What about my spectacles? Do you think I'm James Bond? I'm a scientist and a fed-up scientist at that, but that's all I am. You morons are going to be accountable for this. Have you finished checking out my phone?"

"Could you please come with us, sir? It won't take long."

They marched him to the toilet and asked him to strip off. In the meantime, his laptop was checked, the original memory stick confiscated and both were placed in a plastic box labelled with NERO logo.

He kept his rage in check until he felt a cold finger probing his rectal passage.

"Just tell me what it is you're looking for, I might be able to help you."

The ordeal came to an end and he was allowed to get dressed. He decided to have another rant.

"Where the hell is my phone? I need it to contact my wife when I arrive in Lyon. You've checked it out, give it to me."

The head security man nodded to one of the others. He then informed Julien that they could leave for the airport.

"At last, thank you. Now if you don't mind, I need to use a cubicle. Your anal probing has triggered my irritable bowel syndrome, and for what exactly? I need some privacy. Do you get it? Even you bastards must accept that I want to preserve a modicum of dignity – I have to wipe my arse! You're welcome to analyse the shit paper rather than me flushing it away, if that's what you're after. Yes? No? You never know, it could be explosive shit!"

"Just make it quick, sir. We do want you to get to the airport as soon as possible. And we apologise for the inconvenience."

Julien retrieved the duplicate memory stick, dropped it neatly into his underpants and flushed the toilet. He was given his phone and escorted to one of the cars. The short journey was uneventful. The tense atmosphere was broken as Julien alighted from the car and used his phone to take a shot of the licence plate as it sped away. They had the genuine memory stick, and he hoped that would at least buy him time. He headed to the check-in, after which he went in search of the public internet facility.

Reflecting on the train of events he'd set in motion, Julien couldn't help picturing his late father. Max Delacroix had been a mechanical engineer, and although it was never actually said, there always seemed to be disapproval of his son's choice of career. Max was a man steeped in precision, and the practicality of an end product. He could never truly engage with Julien's esoteric pursuit of the intangible, especially as it was accompanied by stubbornness. What would Max have made of his impetuous walkout? He would have almost certainly shaken his head and declared it to be typical. It had never been a comfortable relationship.

# Chapter 2

Sir Ian Waverly tried to choose his words carefully, but he wasn't really able to structure the speech without reference to Julien's unnecessary spreading of panic.

The interviewers picked up on this and equated it to damage limitation of some kind. They were on to it like a pack of wolves. Even the first barb undermined his ill-advised decision to deal directly with the public in this way.

"Sir Ian, are you telling us that Julien Delacroix's declaration was false? Is it without any substance?"

"I have to refer you to data which is currently classified. That status will change when the current information is updated with further observational values in the coming weeks. Precision is paramount in NERO, we do not work with speculation."

"So, why did you feel it was necessary to explain the decision to dismiss one of your top employees? Was it only because he contravened your internal secrecy protocols?"

"The people of the world were entitled to a comprehensive report from the conference in Osaka. They were deprived of that when Julien Delacroix unilaterally proceeded to break ranks, and decided he would not present NERO's current position on near Earth threats. I am standing here today, merely apologising for not having given that report, and outlining why. Julien Delacroix's lone action may have caused more anxiety than is warranted. I wanted people to know we acted expeditiously to put our house back in order."

A second journalist jumped the queue.

"Thanks for clearing that up. So, can you answer the question? Was there no substance to Delacroix's claim that this asteroid will come back in 2039?"

"Yes it will, but all previous calculations took that into account. Julien Delacroix ought to have told the conference that both this year and upon its return in 2039, the asteroid trajectory did not indicate an impact event. He did not say that."

"Excuse me, sir, but he did say that there was zero chance of impact in 2027, but he also claimed that some stray rock had changed what might happen in 2039. Are you saying he was lying?"

"Not lying, just not in possession of the very latest observational data. We collect this data continuously. He should have taken note of the new data we sent him while he was in Osaka, but he didn't, and we are all bewildered by his omission to do so."

The first interviewer seized on this.

"How close to Earth will the asteroid pass in twelve years from now? You know, according to the latest data."

"We can't be absolutely precise about this, and things may change again in the next few years, but we don't believe it will unduly disturb our atmosphere. Future updates will be forthcoming and appropriate action engaged, if that is justified."

"Hold on, Sir Ian, but this doesn't sound much different to what Delacroix said himself, at least to those of us without an astrophysics degree. He also said, as you have, that precision was elusive, but the predicted trajectory would be close enough to justify research now. He then mentioned that the trajectory may be altered again by celestial interaction, but we couldn't realistically rely entirely upon such good fortune. Is this really about delaying phenomenal investment to tackle this threat in the hope that we get lucky? A conscious gamble to finance other programmes, those designed to counter terrestrially evolved threats? Mistakes for which humanity itself is to blame?"

"I'm afraid I can't say more on the subject, other than we, NERO, are a highly-trusted world body with an impeccable reputation. This organisation was created specifically to monitor and then advise on such threats. You have to trust the evidence, not be taken in by rhetoric."

The session ended on that note, but the subject had established a kind of bridgehead with the public.

*

Julien received a message while passing through airport security, but decided not to retrieve it until he was clear of the checks. Elise didn't have far to drive to her sister's house. She'd also called her son and daughter, telling them both to make their way there instead of going to their respective homes. It was an anxious few moments when Julien passed through the body scanner, having already placed his phone and the memory stick in a basket, together with a few other personal effects. He emerged on the cleared side just as the basket scanner beeped, automatically causing the conveyor to come to a halt. He couldn't see his stuff. Thankfully, it proved to be nothing other than someone having dumped a soft drink in their basket, one which wasn't purchased in the airport. The nearest operative told everyone to stand back and then asked whose basket it was. The drink was without the required accreditation sticker denoting airport goods. A young girl raised her hand and was asked to step aside for questioning while everyone else was moved on.

Julien checked his phone. Elise had said she was on her way to Geraldine's house and expected to be there in under fifteen minutes. He nervously checked his watch and estimated that he could call her in another two minutes from an internet café.

The information display was now flashing the gate number for his flight. He waited another minute then made the call. Geraldine answered, surprised to hear his voice.

"Hello, Julien, where are you? I thought Elise said you were in Japan."

"Hasn't she called you to say she's coming to see you?"

"No, is there something wrong?"

"No. Listen, I'm about to board my flight home and I don't have..."

"Oh, that's her car coming on to the drive now, shall I ask her to come straight to the phone?"

"Yes, great, uh, see you soon."

He was keeping an eye on the information display. The boarding sign had not yet appeared, but it seemed to be taking an eternity for his wife to pick up the call. She began to explain that she hadn't time to forewarn her sister of her impending arrival.

"Yes, yes, thank you, darling. Just please listen. I'm going to have to get on the plane very soon, but I need to send some files to you. I didn't want them to be received by our laptop, so ask Geraldine to switch on hers. I've got her email address on my phone. I need you to message me the moment you receive the attachment. Don't try to open it, you can't, it's encrypted. I have to know it's there before I get on the plane. I'll explain everything when I get back."

"Ok, but this..."

"They're calling the flight, just do it now."

"Right, please stay on the line."

Elise explained this to her sister as best she could. Julien sat down, put the memory stick into the internet café laptop and attached the file to the mail. He then heard Elise's voice again.

"Hello, Julien, are you still there?"

"Yes, honey, I'm ready, are you?"

"I think so. The laptop is on and we are into webmail."

"Ok, just stay with it, I'm running out of time in this internet café, but I'm sending the file now. It could take a while to get there." He pressed send and breathed deeply as the seconds turned into minutes. Finally, the screen displayed 'message sent'.

"Elise?"

"Yes, what happened? There's nothing received here."

"No, but it has been sent. Stay on the line until you see it. Oh shit, my flight has been called again. Look, I don't want any confirmation message from you to my mobile. Just stay on the line for another couple of minutes."

"Ok, when will you be back?"

"I don't know, I'll call you when I arrive in Lyon airport. You don't need to pick me up, I'll take a taxi. Tell the kids I'll explain everything to them when I get there. I really have to go, has the mail come through?"

"No, Geraldine says a voice will alert us to new mail, but there is no... err, wait... yes, the inbox has a new message."

"Right, just look at the name of the attachment and read it back to me."

"It says, uh, 'meeting minutes – 1999 A10'."

"Fantastic, leave it alone, I'm on my way home, love you, darling, I've got to run. Bye."

"Ok, hurry then, don't miss the damned flight, it's been a crazy day. You'd better have one hell of an explanation. Love you too."

Julien rushed to the gate, perspiring profusely as he submitted his digital boarding pass. He wasn't the last passenger to do so, and this made him feel slightly less conspicuous. Settling into his sumptuous seat in the upper first class cabin, he began to evaluate the options for the future.

Firstly, his contract. He recalled the clauses which dealt with both scenarios – the one in which he tendered his resignation, and the actual one, instant termination by NERO. The lists of sub-clauses were different. He concentrated on the non-disclosure and no-compete elements. He would have to check his hard copy when he got back, but he was pretty sure that he could prove the relevant disclosures he'd made were predominantly or all known to observatories around the world, ergo in the public domain. It needed to be if he was going to join a rival organisation. Being fired was half of the story, and would normally allow him a free choice. Breach of information which was deemed to be classified could restrict his opportunities, or even take him to court.

He needed to avail of the best legal advice possible, almost regardless of the cost. He suddenly remembered the dilemma facing him when he joined NERO. In the United States, NASA had seen significant reduction in funding, although not as draconian as the European Space Agency, which was now as windless as space itself. Russian progress had declined dramatically and so had the emergent economies of the last decade, China and India. They had made severe cuts to prop up their slowing economies. He had made his decision to join NERO on moral grounds, or so he thought, turning down an offer from a privately funded enterprise. It was this very organisation which was now in prime position to launch the first manned mission to Mars in 2033.

Back then, Julien felt that a globally-funded body would be a more transparent organisation, accountable to all mankind. He smiled, admitting his naivety; like many forms of seduction, NERO had sculptured more than one agenda.

He had to strike quickly when he got back to France. A call to the entrepreneur whom he'd turned down was the obvious first step. This man, Volker Brandt, had access to the best legal people in the world. The content of the memory stick would at least provide a bargaining chip for dialogue.

The 'meeting minutes Asteroid 1999 A10' were actually NERO video conferences, in which people like Sir Ian Waverly had made controversial statements in justification of decisions outside the charter of the organisation. Brandt would hopefully see some value in having such visual and audio proof of manipulative policy.

Julien wrestled with his conscience, but he also had a duty to his family. Elise, Eugene, and Sophie could become part of the problem if Waverly thought a former senior employee was sleeping with the enemy. On the other hand, there weren't many alternatives. Waverly wasn't going to let him have an easy exit, especially as the passage of time would inexorably provide evidence that Julien Delacroix was right. How the hell could Ian Waverly believe he'd get away with this? Julien eventually fell asleep, despite the nagging feeling that he'd missed something. The gradual descent into Lyon caused his ears to pop. He wondered if he would be met by people he didn't recognise. It would be safer to call Brandt before passing through customs.

# Chapter 3

Lyon airport was pretty busy, and although Julien no longer had any hold luggage to retrieve, he felt the collection carousel was the best place to make the call.

Brandt only gave his private number to a handful of people. He'd fought so hard to persuade Julien to join his company, and even though he failed, the gesture had been made at the time. 'You never know, you may have a change of heart. I respect your reasoning, but if this post with NERO does fall short of your expectations, you should let me know. I still believe you could fulfil your ambitions with my company. I wish you every success'.

Those words were ringing very loudly in his ears right now. Volker Brandt came through a tough childhood to become an extremely wealthy man. Not much was known about his past, he'd buried as much of it as he could. A diminutive, moustached man, he had _learned_ to be honest rather than it being a comfortable bedfellow. He rarely trusted anyone implicitly, and the exceptional few had to earn such respect over time.

"It's Julien Delacroix, Herr Brandt."

"Well, I must say I'm not totally surprised. Forgive me, Julien, but I'm in a meeting at present. I would prefer to call you back."

"That may be too late, sir. I've just landed in Lyon airport and I anticipate being detained once I clear customs. Sorry to have called at a bad time."

"I see. In that case, let me walk to my office before we continue."

The minute and a half seemed like twenty.

"I saw the statement you made as you left the conference, and Waverly's rebuttal to the press. But I didn't think the fallout would extend to such melodrama. Please continue."

"Well, neither did I, and yet I should have. I have to be brief. I have a memory stick which may explain why I said what I did and now find myself in this predicament. It's a copy. I wondered if it would be of interest."

"Mmm, that is a tricky one. Of course I'm fascinated by what could be on there, but, as to any other value it could have, or whether I could actually **use** it, is questionable in both a practical and ethical sense."

"Yes, I can see that. However, it may have implications you should be aware of, particularly for the Mars mission."

"That would validate my interest but not my interference in any wrangling between NERO and our paternalistic government spin doctors. However, there could be another way to look at this."

"You think so?"

"You could work for me."

"In what capacity?"

"If you are sure this information on offer has implications for our Mars mission, I'd be stupid to ignore it. You would be responsible for heading up a programme to neutralise the very same implications."

"What about legal aspects? Contractual stuff, and most importantly the timescale? I don't know what is waiting for me out in the concourse."

"Well, let me think. Your dismissal was announced on television, so the reason for, and implementation of that decision cannot be disputed. You are, in employment terms, already a free agent. My legal staff will sort out the detail with NERO, boring pension rights, that kind of stuff. NERO has a very weak case if they attempt to block this, but they will undoubtedly try. Leave that with me. On the timescale front, I will send you an offer of employment by text after this conversation. It will of necessity be a broad brush remit and if you can send me your acceptance by return, I can get my people on to it. They will need to slap injunctions on NERO with regard to proprietary knowledge from our side, blah-blah. This should shake their tree, keep them busy, and persuade them to back off the Stasi attitude, at least for now. How confident are you that you can get past any awaiting search with the memory stick?"

"It's probably the one thing I'd given most thought to in the last few hours. I sent a copy to a safe location as a backup. I thought I'd need it if NERO took me to court."

"In that case, I suggest you voluntarily hand the one in your possession over, rather than them finding it. Make some mileage out of declaring that although you were treated like a criminal, not assumed to be innocent until proven otherwise, and yet they didn't discover the stick amongst your effects. Your honesty is validated and at the same time their credibility suffers. I mustn't know of any of this just yet. Look, I'll delay my employment offer until well after you do return the memory stick. I had no knowledge of its existence when I saw Waverly explain your status as unemployed. Send the phone you are using right now to me. I have people who can clean it up in a way which means this call never took place. I have a telecommunications company to take care of problems like this. Buy another phone at the airport if you need to for personal reasons but don't contact me for twenty-four hours."

"Ok, I think I understand all that. I will need this phone to speak to my wife whenever I get through any hoops NERO puts in my way, but they already cleared it in Osaka, so that shouldn't be an issue. I'll call you tomorrow when I've mailed this phone to you, and bought an unregistered one. Thanks for taking time to talk with me."

"A pleasure, but don't call your wife on that phone. If they have checked it out in Osaka they shouldn't be given a second chance to make you the fall guy. Delete all the numbers of business contacts, including mine. Retain only the numbers of personal friends and family. Write my number down somewhere safe and then take out the sim card, flush it away. My people will take it from there and it removes the risk involved with mailing it to me. They may put surveillance on you, even after a search. If they do ask for the phone, tell them that the Osaka team must have taken it, but make sure you offer the memory stick before they search you. It's critical that you plant in their minds that they screwed up in the first search. Now, I hope you can accept what I'm about to suggest to you. I know you joined NERO because of their apparent neutrality in the greater scheme of things, so don't let this break your moral stance, we hypocrites in the private sector are the only honest people left."

*

Both Eugene and Sophie Delacroix had been unsettled by their mother's uncharacteristically covert request to meet at Geraldine's house. They'd spoken to one another after independently checking out Julien's interview on YouTube.

Eugene was in his final year of a masters in microbiology and Sophie had already become an artist of some repute.

"What do you make of this Soph? It's all a bit cloak and dagger if you ask me. Why Aunt Geraldine's?"

"I'm a bit worried, Mum doesn't do this kind of thing. She always like, over-elaborates. She can't even keep our birthday surprises to herself. You do know Dad got fired I suppose?"

"Hell no, I've been in the lab all day. That might explain it then. He has always said he couldn't talk to us about his work, except in general terms. He must have broken some regulation in his TV interview. Actually, I thought he was great, the way he walked out, wanting the public to know how their hard-earned tax is wasted by these freeloaders."

"Of course, that would explain everything, Gene. You just love a conspiracy, don't you? I think we should get to Mum as soon as we can, she'll be worried sick. She always goes nuts when she thinks the worst is about to happen. She never stops to like, wonder if there's an obvious alternative. See you there."

"Ok, I'm leaving in about forty minutes."

*

The reception committee consisted of two men, both of whom Julien knew well. They were NERO security people, but ones he'd always got on with over the years.

"Hello, Mr Delacroix, I'm sorry about this but it's part of our job. Please come with us to the car. Sir Ian wants to see you at the office. We managed to persuade him that it would not be in the interests of anyone to cause a scene at the airport."

"So, you don't want to frisk me for weapons, or a suicide vest?"

The second man couldn't suppress a smile.

"We'll take your word that you don't pose a threat to life, sir. We don't like this situation any more than you do, so thank you for your understanding. Shall we go?"

The fifty minute drive was quite convivial but without any further reference to anything NERO. Waverly had a man with him in the grandiose, pentagonal office; he was vaguely familiar.

"Please, take a seat, Julien."

"Julien? Not Delacroix then? And also ' _please_ '? A hell of a contrast to your call when dismissing me by phone."

"I've asked Henry Fellowes to join us. He's one of our top legal men. I thought it would be best to get everything witnessed and documented. A certain sequence exists in our procedure for termination. It is important that it is implemented. Henry will..."

"Important for whom?"

"Look, you need to..."

"You fired me, without asking for an explanation for my actions, from halfway around the world. You had me placed under NERO arrest on foreign sovereign territory, strip searched and escorted under guard to Osaka airport. I only had the clothes I was wearing, and despite checking my phone, your people took the sim card. I couldn't call my wife on my personal mobile phone. Your goons took my laptop, with any NERO information, including a memory stick with my presentation notes. You now have a fountain pen which belonged to my father. I was left there to check in for my long journey home with a couple of bank cards and an inoperable mobile. You told the world I'd been dismissed. That is now your problem, not mine. I'm not really interested in adhering to anything procedural within NERO, there are laws beyond this office with which even you have to comply."

Henry Fellowes took the opportunity to lower the tension.

"You mention an explanation of your actions in Osaka. Any reference to the real reason for this unfortunate situation to have arisen, namely your outburst in leaving the conference, would indeed be appreciated. However, what is done is done. We can only make progress from the present. I advise all parties to retain a sense of pragmatism as well as principle. There will be unpleasantness to hurdle in reaching fairness. Let's get that out of the way. This could all be diverted to a courtroom, with a reasonably good chance of neither side feeling they have achieved justice. Parting company on good terms may be difficult, yet the best solution. For example, Mr Delacroix, how would you respond if we wanted to make sure you didn't have any NERO proprietary items at your home? Sir Ian, how do you see Julien's severance package if he is willing to allow us that access without a court order? Gentlemen, you need to recover from a spat, not turn it into a vendetta. Julien has to move on to alternative employment and NERO has to regain the trust of its sponsors. Would either of you care to disagree with my analysis?"

Julien was contemplating how to offer the first olive branch, just as Volker Brandt had advised. He looked directly into the eyes of Waverly.

"I have nothing to hide, nothing whatsoever. I spoke from the heart in Osaka. I understand that there's no way back in terms of reconciliation with my employer, so I do have to move on. I will allow a search of my home, as long as my family don't have to be there to witness my fall from grace. If we can settle my severance amicably, I'm prepared to make another gesture which will serve to emphasise that my only motivation in Osaka was to avoid saying something which could turn out to be wrong. If you want to take up this gesture, I would need some kind of signed document certifying my voluntary disclosure. It will save you some embarrassment. I can assure you of that."

Henry Fellowes suggested that he should take over the leadership of the way forward, knowing that the board of directors thought Waverly had acted just as precipitously as Delacroix. They were also aware of the dangers of going to court. Waverly acceded and walked out without a handshake or uttering another word. The thaw was tangible, at least for the two men remaining in the office.

# Chapter 4

The deal was agreed with Henry Fellowes, albeit after a bit of shadow boxing. Julien agreed to his house being searched if NERO gave him a typed letter giving him proof of voluntarily handing over information which the Osaka people had failed to find. He insisted on highlighting the duplicate memory stick. Two sections of the document were left blank until the house search was completed, and then a box designated as - 'Meeting minutes 1999 A10' - was added together with Fellowes' signature, and the date Julien had surrendered the stick to the temporary care of the NERO security men who had previously escorted him from Lyon airport. Both parties were now happy to move on to the severance package and Henry Fellowes thanked Julien for his cooperation.

"It shouldn't have been left to you to say thanks. If Sir Ian had been more understanding of my reticence to mislead the conference, this unfortunate state of affairs would never have arisen. In voluntarily giving your guys that stick, and I think you should examine it carefully, I really had to struggle with my conscience. It was the only evidence that constituted my defence, proving that the data I was supposed to deliver was incomplete at best, but in reality, quite manipulative with the truth. Perhaps I've saved his career, and that grates with me, however, it's now up to your board as to what will be done. Waverly may have got away with this if his security people in Osaka hadn't been so keen to strip search me. The memory stick they took from me at Osaka airport is the original, the one I surrendered here is a duplicate. I never thought I'd be thankful for a NERO protocol which had to be enforced. The strip search team seemed pleased with themselves when they took the original but didn't even ask about the copy, which was just nestling in a pocket of my jacket which they supposedly searched. I'm totally perplexed as to how they weren't told about the copy, Waverly must have known about it, he wrote the bloody protocol. It was only when I was aboard the aircraft that I found it was still in my jacket. I could have exploited the information which is on that stick. Take a look for yourself. I guess you'll be in touch about the severance."

"Indeed. It may take another day to get it ready for you to sign. I'll call you."

Fellowes walked to the waiting company car, shaking his head as he threw his briefcase into the back seat. Julien reversed his own car from the garage and set off to see his family.

*

The air was thick with speculation when Julien rang the doorbell of Geraldine's house, and it hadn't been dislodged by the mandatory hugging and a few tears.

"Can you all sit down and hear me out before bombarding me with questions. By all means hit me with them once I've finished covering all aspects of the last two days. I'd appreciate the chance to do this my way."

Geraldine nodded but asked if he'd like a hot cup of coffee before getting started. It was declined with an anxious smile.

"I assume you've all seen my exit speech from the conference and Ian Waverly's public termination of my contract with NERO, so I don't need to dwell on the details involved with either of those events, they can wait. I want to cover what can and cannot happen next, because the family comes first. I could probably have fought my dismissal but I chose not to. It wasn't about money, as I'm close to pensionable age and don't need to work if I don't want to. I have already been offered a new position, and it is one which is very worthwhile. But, you, the family should have some input before I reply to the company. You should probably take into account that NERO may try to whitewash their errors and divert media inquisitions to me. This could disrupt your lives and I don't want that to happen. On the other hand, I don't want to run away from the implications which caused me to abort the conference.

"You heard me say, in Osaka, that if nothing was done immediately about tackling this asteroid it would very probably impact our planet in 2039. The new position I've been offered would require me to do just that. Eugene, you and Sophie are just beginning your lives, and I hope that maybe someday I'll be able to play with my grandchildren. But, I also have to think about billions of living souls being extinguished if nobody is willing to acknowledge the clear danger we face in the future. It's what we do now that will count in twelve years' time. Eugene, you have to complete your studies, and Sophie, your talent must not be wasted; you should both follow your passion, wherever that takes you. Elise, I know how much you enjoy our life here in Lyon, and especially being so close to Geraldine. To all of you, I have to confess, it will be difficult for me to sit back and let the asteroid threat be someone else's problem. That's simply because I'm arrogant enough to believe I'm the best qualified person to meet this challenge from the skies. You may all have gathered then, that the position I've been offered is in another country. Personally, it wouldn't matter to me if it was in the middle of the Brazilian rain forest, but I have a family, and I want to hear what you have to say. Who wants to ask the first question?"

There was an uneasy silence.

"Come on, Elise, you must have concerns."

"I do, but I'm... unable to just list them... as if I was on the way to the supermarket. You've just told Gene and Sophie that they should follow their passion, and I agree with you. Maybe you've forgotten... I didn't get to follow mine. Perhaps I wouldn't have made the grade, but I wanted to be a professional dancer. Your career was the priority...the only priority, because it provided steady income and gave us the freedom to start a family. Until I know where your next position is based, I can't even think about moving away... from the kids and Geraldine."

"Fair point. But take your mind back to 2021 when I joined NERO. I had a more lucrative offer from another company, a privately owned organisation. I took the moral stance that a respected world body would be less political than one at least partly driven by profit. I now know how naïve that was. The company is VB Aerospace. Volker Brandt wants me to start working on eradicating this asteroid threat as soon as possible. His headquarters are in Evry, at the Guiana Space Centre. They also have offices in Washington DC, Singapore, and Tokyo. It was originally named Arianespace, founded in 1980, and ultimately its shareholders included Airbus Safran Launchers, the French space agency CNES, and all European space companies, representing 10 European nations. But, in 2020 funding had decreased even more than that of NASA, and Volker Brandt bought the facilities, but didn't retain all of the employees. It was the following year when he asked me to join his workforce."

Elise's furrowed brow preceded her outburst.

"So, we... sorry, you are talking of living in Guiana, America, Singapore or Tokyo? I'm sorry, Julien, this is all a step too far for me."

Eugene relieved the building tension.

"How certain are you that this asteroid will crash into the Earth? Will it really kill everybody?"

"To be brutally honest, Eugene, I can't be absolutely certain in answering either of your questions. The details to which I referred in Osaka are very important in my mind. For whatever reason, NERO didn't allow me to tell the conference that an impact was highly likely, even after we'd discovered it had been deflected somewhere in our solar system. I was supposed to omit the **fact** that it passed within 22,000 km instead of the predicted 37,000, entirely due to a clash with another object, which we **hadn't** predicted. Further extrapolation of this new trajectory gives a high coefficient of probability of impact in twelve years from now. As far as estimating how many people would die, it's impossible to tell, but the odds are that it will be an extinction event. The last known threat of this type saw off the dinosaurs, but miraculously, burrowing mammals survived. That's the dilemma, do nothing, pray, or get to work on a solution. We may not find a solution or the asteroid may have another bump before it returns."

"In that case, Dad, somebody has to do something. If it's you, so be it. It's a no-brainer."

"What do you think, Sophie?"

"I don't really get how you calculate these things, Dad, but if you thought it was going to come by at 37,000 km and it would have but for a little bump which pushed it like, a lot closer, you have to try and stop it next time around. I don't really want to think about it anymore."

"Don't ask me," said Geraldine, "it's your family, Julien. Whatever happens, I'll be staying here."

Elise turned to her husband and held his hand.

"You must do what you think best, darling. I won't be coming with you. I'll stay here with Geraldine, if she'll have me. The kids won't then have to adjust too much. They have their own apartments. That would be the way of least disruption. I'm not going to hold you back. In any case, surely there will be times when you need to be in Europe, and perhaps then... we can have... vacations, or just meet up for a short break. That's the best I can do right now. At a different time of my life I might have come with you. I'm really sorry."

It was decided, but not in the way he'd hoped. Julien would contact Volker Brandt in the morning. It was time to catch up with what had been happening in the lives of his family in that room. The family he was about to split up.

*

Brandt was happy with the way things had been handled with NERO. It was one less item to be concerned about.

"Look, Julien, I think it would be best if you take a flight from Paris to Washington. I'm in America right now and rather than take risks with phones and messaging, we can thrash out your remit and contract face-to-face. My people in telecommunications are already at work on the records associated with your old mobile. It's just as well you trashed it as agreed. I'll arrange for your open ticket to be collected by you in Paris. You'll have to make your own arrangements to get there. Now, please make sure you bring the content of that memory stick with you, buried deep in your laptop or tablet, don't transmit it through the ether. So, are we ok with all that?"

"Sure, no problem. How long are you in the States?"

"Another week or so, why?"

"I'll be leaving my family in Lyon when I begin working for you, and I owe them something a bit special."

"When do you plan to travel then?"

"Well, I also have to sign off my pension transfer documentation from NERO today, and indemnification stuff about handing Fellowes' people the memory stick. Can we say I'll travel the day after tomorrow?"

"Fine, let me know the flight details and I'll arrange pick up for you."

"Thank you, will do. Look forward to meeting up again."

Volker Brandt had made his fortune courtesy of being able to see the little picture within the big picture. A few years older than Julien, he had an instinctive ability to time the major business decisions with uncanny accuracy. He was pretty much the antithesis to the man he was about to employ, yet he felt they could work well together. He had put a considerable amount of time into honing his main weakness, delegation. He found that it worked best when subordinates felt part of the tough decisions, when in reality, Brandt perfected the art of knowing when to sow and more importantly, when to reap.

# Chapter 5

April 2029

The landscape had changed dramatically since the Osaka conference. Not only had protest turned to terrorist insurgence in known hot spots, it had metastasised into mass civil unrest in hitherto peaceful regions. Climate change had lived up to its billing by causing even more mass migration. It was global conflict, but not between superpowers; rather between the actors in government and the audience on the receiving end. The audience could see through the script and the actors knew only their lines. Curiously, the march to anarchism greatly assisted VB Aerospace. They had become the only safe game in town, and Julien Delacroix was remembered as the man who broke ranks in Osaka and told it as it was. He had unwittingly become a man of the people. However, whilst Volker Brandt inherited far less interference from any remaining governing structures, Julien found the whole experience of being the fountain of hope quite a distraction.

There were two deadlines to address. The obvious one of developing a safe method of influencing the path of 'Chocolate Orange', as 1999 A10 had been nicknamed. Then there was the launch date of the Mars mission. 2033 was ideal when considering the distance between the planets, but if the asteroid collided with Earth, the entire manned mission could become futile. Within VB Aerospace, arguments raged as to whether the launch should be postponed by two, perhaps even three years. The major concern lay in the possibility of Earth and its entire back-up for the mission being destroyed. It was postulated that a few humans, if safely ensconced in habitat on Mars, would simply run out of the essentials of life. Oxygen, food, and of course water. Typically, Volker Brandt curtailed the clamour to reach a humane compromise.

"Of all the things I have achieved in my life, this signal achievement for mankind to step on to another planet is proving to be the most infuriating. We must decide, not procrastinate. It seems that _we_ can't, therefore _I_ must. The launch will go ahead in 2033, whether or not we can prevent Chocolate Orange from destroying our world. We can't be sure of what we will find on Mars, so we must go there. One thing I'm certain of, is that if we have to finally admit we cannot avoid an impact of this monster with Earth, there will be no shortage of volunteers to try their luck on the red planet. We can't waste any more time debating this conundrum. Now we must divide our expertise to optimise the odds of succeeding with both tasks, instead of acting like mice in a maze. Let's do it."

Julien was immensely relieved, but this was only a wakeup call. Since he took up responsibility for plotting the course of Chocolate Orange, and altering its trajectory, or even destruction, he'd met with abuse from other project leaders. They claimed that his arrival was responsible for re-allocation of resource which made their objectives for the Mars mission untenable. They also baited him with having achieved nothing with those resources. Intervention was inevitable. Unlike the unwieldy committee-style anchor of NERO, Brandt was a decisive leader. Apart from his edict to leave the launch date at 2033, he fired two of the most senior managers involved in the programme. That responsibility immediately fell into Julien's lap. He now had no excuse for underachievement in either project.

"I expect a reaction from you and your new subordinates with respect to progress. I want to hear more answers and consequently less problems."

All of a sudden, Guiana seemed like a very lonely place. And the stakes were raised when the news broke of Sir Ian Waverly's resignation. Apparently, the very same video conference minutes which were on the memory stick Julien had delivered to Brandt, had been leaked to the media. There was no suspicion directed to VB Aerospace; it was considered ludicrous that Julien Delacroix would wait seventeen months to fuel some previous vendetta. Suspicion centred on current employees of NERO. Julien wondered about Henry Fellowes, and welcomed the announcement, he felt it vindicated his awkward departure from the Osaka conference, but he didn't rule out the possibility that NERO had actually found more bad news regarding Chocolate Orange. He used this uncertainty to request all trusted observatories to join with him and compare the very latest data.

*

Eugene sailed through his graduation and was now a section leader at a respected microbiology company. He kept in touch with his father frequently; at least they always seemed to look at things through the same end of the telescope. They debated stuff rather than get into an argument. At last Julien had a successful father/son relationship, and Eugene had his own calling. Unlike his sister, he shared his father's temperament.

Sophie had somehow allowed the impending cataclysm to dominate her life, and her art took on a dark side which caused her reputation to suffer. Changing her appearance to become 'extreme gothic' didn't sit well with those marketing her work or with influential art critics. She was confident they would warm to her new persona and she couldn't have been more wrong. A subsequent spiral into drug addiction required rehabilitation and enrolment in a therapy programme. This put considerable strain on Elise, and indirectly to Julien. It was absolutely the worst time for him to take a break. He sensed that his relationship with his wife was breaking down. Sophie had never really needed contact with her dad, most of the time he wasn't there and she'd lived through her teenage years as if she only had one parent and a distant uncle. Her artistic talent had helped her to rationalise this perception.

*

Two of the seven observatories which were willing to pool information reported an alteration in the axial spin and velocity of Chocolate Orange. It was a very recent observation, and it generated pressure to avoid making this public knowledge until it could be confirmed by all tracking locations. Julien became nervous and immediately made Brandt aware of the situation.

"I see, are we sure about this? Couldn't it be the other way around? That the new data showing this change in behaviour of the rock is actually contrived disinformation? It has come to light at the same time as that prat Waverly has departed. I take it our reading of the asteroid doesn't agree with this claim."

"That's right," said Julien, "but these two locations reporting the aberration are both in the southern hemisphere, one in Chile, the other in South Africa. It can happen that values differ slightly from one viewpoint to another, but these are minor and can normally be harmonised by applying known algebraic variables. But these new alterations in spin and speed are on the borderline between feasible and preposterous. I'm going to travel to Chile to check this with my own eyes. Here in Guiana, we are in closer longitudinal alignment with the south of this continent. Depending on what I find there, I can move on to South Africa."

"Fine, but make sure that we don't allow this to break our stride with either of your projects."

"I've issued orders to that end already. We press on as if this hadn't come up, until we verify or refute the claim. However, I must personally review the various programmes of preventing the asteroid impact once more. Because, if there is substance to imply a change in spin and velocity, it could rule out some options, primarily that the Earth could be in a different place when the asteroid arrives in the near reaches of the solar system in 2039. We have to think outside of the box on this one, Volker, because very small differences in trajectory can make huge differences in the outcome. From a direct impact to a glancing blow, which would imply different consequences for humans. Another aspect I have to consider is the difference between resource and expertise. In my new remit, being responsible for both missions, I may well have to bring in new people. They could be difficult to persuade, but we have to recruit the best on the planet. I'd like to discuss this when I return."

*

On board the flight to Chile, free from interruption, Julien began to look through the original feasibility studies of the alternative means to deal with Chocolate Orange.

It was well known that a sufficiently large impact by an asteroid would cause, depending on its impact location, massive tsunamis, widespread firestorms and long term atmospheric winter, caused by the sunlight-blocking effect of spewing large quantities of 'atomised' rock into the stratosphere.

A collision between the Earth and an approximately 10-kilometre-wide object 66 million years ago, was thought to have produced such conditions, which were responsible for the extinction of the dinosaurs. Although this incident actually brought forth the opportunity for mammals to take their place in Earth's pecking order, many or all of these survivors were thought to be living underground at the time. Today, humans, except for a chosen few, could not use such an escape route. The physiology is different, and even if there was still ten years to impact, it wouldn't be enough time to house the billions of individuals currently involved in either state-sponsored corruption or epidemic anarchy.

Deflection strategy enjoyed pole position in Julien's list, not least of all because of the 'fourth dimension'. If time itself was considered as that variable, then it required only a miniscule change in velocity of the asteroid to 'allow' Earth to either escape or not arrive. This then brought up the question of whether it was less complex to slow or accelerate the object. Then there was the subtle definition of trajectory, and confusing it with course. It had to be kept in mind that the term course applied to a 'plotted path' through space. Trajectory was to be viewed as being at a specific point at a specific time. The remaining factors Julien had to keep in mind with this review was the point in time of launch of any intercept, and the point in time of its strike. Together with this data, determination of axial spin and straight line speed was key, simply because the wrong interaction could produce the opposite effect to the one desired.

Detection from space was candidate number two. The construction and launch of observational craft to cosmic way points could offer more accurate tracking of the object while it is still far away. Debate raged as to whether such expense should be sanctioned without the capability of nudging the asteroid immediately after sending back data.

Riding the harbinger of death was the third and most controversial proposal. Opinion was seriously divided with respect to attaching 'steering' influence to the rock, or to employ a process of degradation. Many felt that even the minimum payload needed for counter-vector trimming was unrealistic, whilst the opposite camp believed that attempts to fragment the asteroid could not offer reliable cleavage results and could actually deliver multiple, smaller sized threats which would produce many more impact targets to track.

All of these options had to consider the sub-categories of the devices of influence to be applied. This inevitably led to a last ditch bailout of nuclear strikes, in case the primary chosen method failed. There simply wasn't the finance available for progressing multiple, elegant, distant operations. If it came down to taking on the monster with banks of nuclear fission force, it had to be at a distance which sat between the requirements of accuracy and unpredictable fallout damage.

Julien put away his dossier, yawned and fastened his seat belt. He found it difficult to be unbiased in considering the choices he faced. The stark reality was that he needed more incoming information, but this report from Chile and South Africa had certainly muddied the water. Waiting for more observational values was frustrating; looking for close to infinitesimal changes which took an inordinately long time to appear was not what the population at large wanted to hear. More than that, it would most likely help to ferment the ongoing slide into the plurality of mafia-style culture.

He needed to speak to Elise as soon as possible. Her messages in the last couple of weeks were hinting at divorce. She'd stressed that they were already separated. He had to tell Volker Brandt that extinction or no extinction, he needed to take a break in France, as inconvenient as that may be. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent night's sleep. Julien Delacroix wondered what it would be like to have a calling more like those of his kids, passion without the pressure, then he thought of his time with NERO. He'd brought this upon himself.

# Chapter 6

After an intensive trawl of the aberrant trajectory data in Chile, the stark conclusion for all mankind was that the calibration software had been hacked. The capability required for this could be divided into two components; expertise in cracking firewalls and multiple-layered password protection, plus the more sinister knowledge of how to embed believable deviation in trajectory shift, as observed from the lower southern hemisphere. Julien called Brandt.

"We have a conspiracy of some kind in our midst. The values indicating a change in trajectory of Chocolate Orange are false. That's the end of the good news. The sophistication of embedding such marginal changes can only have been to cause division in our efforts and foster the belief that there would be no impact in 2039. The question is – who would be both capable and evil enough to do this? Anyway, I don't have to go to South Africa, they have cleaned up their system on my recommendation. I'm going to detour to Lyon, as I have some serious family issues to tackle. I'll have to leave the detective work to you and the security people, but it did occur to me that you might want to check out our previously employed dissenting personnel, all of whom you fired when you put me in charge of both the Mars mission and the asteroid deflection programme. I should also say that this has created one other spin-off challenge. The bogus trajectory values forced me to focus more intently on the interconnections of the two projects. You decided to stick with the 2033 Mars launch date, and I now suggest that we alter the planned back-up missions from colonisation objectives to survival shuttles. If for some reason we fail to deflect the asteroid, and the new Martians can no longer depend on Earth assistance, we should ensure they have life necessities for years ahead, not merely prescribed scientific objectives. They deserve the opportunity to exercise creativity with regard to what they find on Mars. It could be very different from what we think we know. Also, this would allow me to narrow down the research channels for the deflection programme. The sheer number of permutations we are wrestling with at present cannot be sustained. Perhaps if we hadn't been confronted with these bogus values, I wouldn't have had to conduct such a fundamental root and branch analysis so soon. I'll work on the additional expertise we need to reduce our effort from multiple to dual strategies for deflection while I'm in France. Of course, we still have to build a nuclear arsenal in case it all comes down to an Alamo situation."

"Good work, Julien. I'll pull in the head of security immediately. Keep in touch."

*

Another long flight provided Julien with space to search his heart as well as his head. He even contemplated the possibility that he didn't actually realise precisely how much stress he was suffering. He seemed incapable of reasoning with his wife, apparently his daughter was on the edge of suicide, and his only ally within the family was Eugene. But his son could offer nothing more than tacit support, because he himself had been accused of being unsympathetic to Sophie's condition. His sister-in-law, Geraldine, had somehow managed to stay neutral in this domestic disintegration. Julien had religiously reminded himself that he must stay focussed on his remit, whatever else he did. Otherwise, his family would simply be claimed along with the rest of the human race. He'd briefly considered marriage counselling, but at the same time thought it would have all the hallmarks of capitulation. His entire life had been plagued with setbacks; how they were dealt with was the making of a person, so that should be his watchword. His wife really ought to understand this, everyone else did. But then again there was his little girl, she was in serious trouble, and he conceded that such draconian self-analysis had to be guided by compassion as well as logic. Why had he really taken on the role of saving the world? There were other people with pretty much the same expertise. Was there an element of wanting to be needed? Was that what Elise was feeling too? His mental gymnastics had failed, as the plane began its descent into Paris. He had the train journey to Lyon to convince himself that he could turn a problem into an opportunity.

*

The high speed train metronomic acoustics threw out an idea. Having an outpost on the red planet with a surfeit of supplies but nothing to take their mind off sheer survival, planted the seed. With even rudimentary technology, by current standards, the crew could actually track Chocolate Orange from there. With no atmosphere to contend with, and the distance between the two planets, they had two advantages. Less interference from planetary magnetic fields, and hackers who were dependent on the internet. This line of thought led to reinforcement of his preference to concentrate the overwhelming proportion of expertise and resource on option 1 in the deflection strategy. The calculations of time and place would be manifold, leading to even more potential rendezvous coordinates. Narrowing down the candidates to single figures had to begin immediately, because of the implications for design of appropriate projectiles and their delivery time.

*

The family reunion was, as expected quite strained. Geraldine tried her best to at least get the conversation going by giving the two of them privacy; she disappeared to go shopping in the city.

"When can we see Sophie?" asked Julien.

"Whenever it's convenient for you. Everything revolves around your schedules, Julien. She's in a bad way, so you had better prepare yourself for a shock. I know you've always doubted ...even ridiculed the diagnosis of mental illness, as has Eugene. But you may not recognise your daughter."

"Is Eugene coming?"

"No, he seems to think that Sophie's problem is of her own making...or merely seeking attention He didn't at first, but gradually found, as I did, that he couldn't get through to her. He simply says she's in the best place for her condition and he never visits her now... she's his sister and he won't see...I'm sorry, it's just so distressing."

"So, do you think he would come if I ask him to?"

"No, I don't. None of us are the same people you left behind... that you abandoned, to save the entire human race in that God-forsaken place at the other side of the world. Let's go to the therapy unit, just talking about Sophie is no substitute for seeing her."

They took a taxi to the therapy centre, which in times gone by might have been labelled as a Sanatorium. It was a tremendous shock for Julien to see all manner of unfortunate young people wandering around aimlessly, whispering to themselves. Sophie was in her room, not feeling well enough to stand up unaided. Massive black halos circled her eyes and a flimsy nightdress clung to her skeletal frame. He couldn't even tell if she recognised him, so devoid of expression were her facial features. He broke down emotionally and turned away, thinking he was going to faint. The nurse came to his rescue with a chair.

When he recovered a handhold of composure, he tried to make visual connection once more. A weak smile was her only response. No words could be cajoled from Sophie.

"I think we should go to the cafeteria, Julien," said Elise, "we can come back when the nurse has helped her...look, she can't even go to the toilet herself. She vomits after every attempt to eat. They are certain she isn't bulimic, but I'm not convinced... I don't believe it. They say it's normal, part of her reaction to going cold turkey. They expect it to last another three or four weeks."

They walked solemnly to the coffee machine, but there was a queue so they sat at the nearest empty table. It was an unexpected outburst.

"Elise, don't accuse me of suggesting another quick fix of convenience, but I can't go back to work after what I've just seen. I want to understand what is really going on here. Will these people allow us to take Sophie and her medication away for a break? This place may have a good reputation but it would depress the hell out of me in less than a day, and you told me she's depressed."

"It was recommended by our doctor, whom you've always respected. And, you haven't yet seen her when she's not in this...debilitating...gut-wrenching vomiting sequence. She goes wild at anything you say which is disagreeable to her. I couldn't take the risk of having her at home never mind on a vacation. However, if you're serious about taking time off... and I mean really serious, I could use a break. Go ahead, tell them we're taking her home for a few days, they can't stop us, but we will need her medication."

When they got Sophie back to Geraldine's place she seemed even more confused. She sat by the window looking at two little birds, pecking away at some crumbs which had been scattered on the lawn. A haunting smile passed over her face, a momentary flicker of awareness.

"Elise, when I said we should take Sophie for a break, I meant away from the city. This is where the problem began, we need to give her something to keep on stimulating a smile, like she's smiling now. How about going to the Cote D'Azur for the weekend? Geraldine, your company would be most welcome, unless you have other plans."

"I don't know," replied Elise, wearily, "it's sure to be busy, I don't like the idea of her being in a crowd...you know, or amongst heavy traffic."

"Yes, you're right. How would you feel about me taking her back to Guiana with me?"

"Julien, have you been on drugs too? You've never had time for your family - ever, so, just how do you think you could take care of her in a place like that?"

"Well, I have people who could help out, that is if you want to stay here."

"Back to the old trusted and tried life recipe, you mean? You go to work, I look after the family all of the time, all of the bloody time. I said I'd like a break; that sounds like hell."

"Fair point, but when I said I have people who can help, I meant medical people. The spaceport is in a remote location and we have to make sure the employees' wellbeing is a top priority. Listen, the remoteness could be an advantage. It's a beautiful, peaceful location with very diverse wildlife and flora, an artist's dream. I'd make sure we got Sophie the best possible care, and we could take her out whenever we want. Maybe we could help her to start painting again. Geraldine, I think you would also like the country, the nearest city isn't too far away and the coastline is virtually unspoilt. Would you come with us?"

Elise looked at her sister and detected a gleam of excitement.

"Hold on a moment. Can we just sleep on this... and ...and decide in the morning? I must have at least a thousand questions flying around in my head. I can see the positives in what you say, I just need to get some sleep... and uh...process everything carefully, including how much of the time you'll be accessible if we have problems of any kind. I have trouble visualising you changing the habits of a lifetime overnight. Maybe you don't really know yourself, Julien, even after all these years."

"Elise, I swear that I'll delegate as much work as humanly possible, to be with Sophie, you, and Geraldine. I need to step back a little, you're right, and for the first time in my career I have subordinates capable of taking the strain."

"Fine, we'll decide at breakfast tomorrow."

Julien nodded and said he'd call Eugene.

*

"Hi Dad, how are things with sis? I guess you were shocked, I just don't get it, really. Mother has her in that looney house, and I've tried my best to tell her that Sophie needs a different environment altogether. She won't hear of it and Geraldine doesn't help. I mean, I know my aunt is a kind, caring person, but she just repeats whatever Mum says, like a sodding parrot. Even some of the relevant stuff I had to study at University, which could help Sophie is thrown back in my face. Sophie has a gift, Sophie is sensitive, sure, and like many talented people, doesn't take criticism too well. I'm sure that's why her painting became a burden, more noir, bizarre, and violent in its subject matter. There's a lot of evidence now that personality can be influenced by a person's DNA. Irregularities which cause conditions like Autism and Asperger Syndrome have been linked to genetic defects without much fuss in society. But people don't want to think about this reaching as far as temperament, or being self-centred. I gave up trying to help because Mum was so stubborn. I know Sophie needed medication to control her addiction, but we need to look at what caused her submission to drugs. Enough, this sounds like a sermon, what happens next?"

"A lot of what you've just said actually resonates with me. I persuaded Mum to take Sophie back to Geraldine's for a while, and we're there now. I also suggested taking her back to Guiana, to re-unite her with nature. You know, solitude when it's needed, but the family can be there whenever there's a wobble. We'll decide tomorrow."

"Well, well, I can't believe it. That's exactly what Sophie needs right now. Listen, Dad, I'd like to come out to see what you get up to in Guiana, but I can't take the time off just yet. How about the end of the summer? I might be able to squeeze a couple of weeks' vacation then?"

"I'd love that, Eugene, I've never asked you because I thought it would isolate your mother even more. I hope you can understand."

"I'd figured that out already. Anyway, you've got my support one hundred percent, Sophie needs to be out of that zoo. Speak to you soon."

# Chapter 7

Elise had been up half of the night, researching anything she could about Guiana. She wasn't convinced it was right for her daughter and aired her concerns at the breakfast table.

"When were you going to mention the oppressive climate, Julien, and all the...compulsory vaccinations against tropical diseases?"

"After we decided whether reuniting the family would help Sophie with her problems. I thought that was the priority."

"Maybe, but I've read that a current yellow fever vaccination is mandatory... even for... entry into the country. Protection against malaria is definitely recommended, and the same applies to tetanus and... sodding polio."

"I know all that, Elise, but it's under control, unlike drug addiction. And yes, it's hot and humid a lot of the time, but accommodation is absolutely top class, and the city of Kourou isn't far away. It's a tropical environment, with advantages and drawbacks just like any other place. But the vivid colours and the night sky are truly something to behold."

Elise was about to bring up the question of crime when Sophie gripped her hand. Then she rounded the table and hugged her father, with tears streaming down her face. Beckoning Elise to join the embrace, Sophie's voice was barely audible. "I want us to go, Mum. What's to think about?"

Geraldine had to excuse herself, unable to control her emotions. Elise just sat still, as if paralysed. Julien was pulled to his feet and guided around the table by his daughter. The three of them joined hands, as Elise saw a light in Sophie's eyes which had been missing for several months. They called for Geraldine and it was decided.

*

Having cleared all the medical requirements and packed the maximum allowance of life's necessities for the family, all remaining arrangements at the other end were authorised by Julien's call to Volker Brandt. They also briefly discussed Julien's suggestions following his trip to Chile.

"If we narrow down the options of deflecting the asteroid to only one technique and one last resort, it would give us the opportunity to alter the initial Mars objectives. I realise that if we fail with diverting Chocolate Orange, the chances of surviving on Mars more than a few years would be unlikely, but we just don't know what we might find there. Also, if we do knock the asteroid off collision course, we'll know by then exactly what the situation is on Mars."

There was no comment.

"Hello, Volker, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm just processing what you said. I'm not sure about leaving a crew on Mars without back up missions to begin the programme of self-sufficiency. All my drive over the years has been to that end. I appreciate your point that we can't push forward too many concurrent projects, but if Earth dies, so will the Martian crew, unless habitat and food propagation has been fully established between 2033 and 2039. I need to think this through again, especially as you have said on a few occasions that we should stockpile supplies on Mars at the expense of scientific programmes, including food propagation. We can talk again when you get here."

*

Volker Brandt, unknown to Julien, had many agents embedded in other organisations. He'd never have survived thus far if this hadn't been the case. Virtually all so-called 'World Bodies' had reason to want him to fail. His vision was pin-sharp, and his resultant intense focus, meant he had to achieve things rather than merely talking the talk. The latest round of intelligence gathering pointed to Russian backstabbing. During the days of Arianespace, Soyuz Aerospace Industries had been able to use the spaceport, but it was now in the hands of Brandt. The Russians were originally shareholders of some influence and repute. However, in the last few years, they had terminated information sharing, eventually leading to a revival of 'the space race'. They would never openly speak about their admiration of the old Soviet Union, and its inspirational attempt to beat the United States to the Moon, only because it had failed. But modern day Russia had the technology, the finance, the dedication, and crucially, a truly hard-nosed motive to win this time around. Their confidence lay in the skewed growth of anarchical trends around the globe. They had by far the least virulent protests of any 'state' on the planet. Brandt's moles were constantly feeding back confirmation of Russian intent to claim sovereignty over Mars. They already had plans to 'fix the race'. Brandt had to take this scenario into his evaluation of Julien's proposal, without even hinting that his refusal to move the Mars mission back from 2033 was underpinned by this Russian threat. Disclosure, even to people he trusted could ultimately blow his double agents' cover. And there was then the more delicate task of knowing if he had spies or double agents in his midst. Knowing was important, whether or not counter-measures were the order of the day. Planting a flag in the red Martian dust was all that mattered, everything else was subject to sacrifice.

*

Sophie had a new friend. Angelina was introduced as Doctor Villeneuve, but as well as her physiological qualifications, her main function was the psychological health of the personnel in the spaceport. Working for years on end in such a 'bubble' had its challenges, especially if there were personality clashes. And there was a veritable reservoir of egos looking for the next step up the ladder.

Under Angelina's care were several patients who'd not been able to handle personal failure, and had fallen prey to the easy access of drugs. Volker Brandt had foreseen such temptation, and from his position, viewed them as potential defectors. It was better to keep them in rehab than allow them to evaporate into the fog of cyber war.

It didn't take long for Angelina to make her initial diagnosis of Sophie. The first recommendation was to change her medication, as in her opinion, the side effects were counter-productive to long term stability. She wanted Sophie to feel she could regain control of her life and kick-start her artistic creativity again. The first step was to integrate her with others with whom she had two things in common. First of all, fighting her addiction was going to make more sense to her by getting involved with friends who'd already been there, and were now in stage two – and able to offer constant appreciation of her efforts, simply by being in the 'same team'. Invited to be involved in their projects, and offering cooperative contribution to the group objectives, brought shared self-esteem. One such example was the creation of multi-faceted entertainment productions for the research personnel to enjoy in their free time; it gave everyone a real buzz. Music, theatre, art galleries, satirical interludes, sculpture, culinary surprises – anything and everything was encouraged.

Sophie took to Angelina immediately, the chemistry and belief were there already. Elise and Geraldine couldn't believe how quickly her demeanour had changed. She still had bad spells, but a friend was always on hand to tell her what to expect next, and stay with her throughout, to bolster her mental fortitude. She trusted these people.

*

Brandt beckoned Julien to enter his office, which was more like a technology hub. He seemed to be connected to everywhere on the planet at the same time. He blacked out every screen with one touch of some master controller. He didn't want the links to go down, even for a second.

"How is your daughter doing? I know she's only just got here but I hope she has settled in."

"Yes, she has, Doctor Villeneuve has really struck a chord with Sophie. I'm mildly optimistic. So, anyway, have you had further thoughts about my proposal?"

"Indeed, I've thought about little else. I approve of your deflection technique being despatched from Earth, the far space option worried me and I'm glad we agree about putting it on the back burner. I'm also as comfortable as I can be with the only other investment being nuclear warheads. I need to see updated calculations on precisely where these strikes will take place, and more importantly, when. That information will enable me to sign off on the Mars launch date...or not. This will also have a bearing on the decision regarding priority of the crew's objectives when they get there. Self-sufficiency or survival. I'm afraid the jury's out on that until I have your progress report. Spare no detail, you have more need to push on now that we've cut down the options."

Julien picked up on Brandt's declaration of not being in favour of far space diversion strikes at the asteroid, and thought better of exposing the principle of near space monitoring as part of the Mars programme. There would be a better time.

"I can't argue with that in principle, my next task is as you said, to decide **exactly** **where** the nuclear option will strike, then the pattern, and the variation in payload. When preparations for that are under way, I'll shift our emphasis to the exact diversion coordinates. This has to take as long as it takes, simply because the fall back option is far less controllable. Having said that, the longer we can wait to launch the diversion projectiles, the lower the margin of error. I'll ready the vessel carcasses pretty soon, but I want to wait to see what developments in electronics come forward in the coming years before we commit to inferior systems."

"Good, I look forward to the report. I'm gone for two weeks as from tomorrow. I'd like to see this progressed by the time I return. Come on, Julien, we're talking preliminary plans, not the finished article."

Brandt had been very accommodating with Julien's time off in France and allocated one of the best doctors in the complex to help Sophie, so he declined to say two weeks wasn't enough.

As soon as Julien left Brandt's 'flight deck' the video streamed back to every monitor. Everything Volker Brandt saw added to his conviction that time was of the essence, he needed to push for even more effort. Just sticking with the original deadlines equated to going backwards. The evidence in front of him had to be translated into words which technical people could identify with, and react to positively. His two weeks away would provide an opportunity to sculpture such a rallying cry.

*

A freedom group in southern Germany made world headlines. They'd taken over the office building of a national newspaper. Reports were coming in continually, many of which indicated that more than sixty heavily armed individuals had managed to secure four of the five floors of the building, and crucially the top floor, together with the entire management team. As yet, no demands had been made, and the police were reluctant to tackle such a well-organised bunch of anarchists or terrorists, whichever they were. Nothing on this scale had been seen before, such cells usually numbered ten to twelve individuals.

The army had been called in and were expected within three hours. This kind of insurgent action was becoming a trend which worried those who clung to power, and sixty well-trained operatives would present a formidable challenge. Also, the police forces around the civilised world were being slowly drained of recruits, most of whom were heading in the other direction, becoming highly paid mafia-style enforcers.

Apparently, nobody in the building had lost their life as yet, and remarkably, the evening edition of the paper was being distributed as normal. The front page headline promised a further bulletin regarding another government cover up of the truth, specifically false information relating to the asteroid killer programme; it would be in the next morning edition. It also stressed the need for any law enforcement personnel to stay away. This was being portrayed as a civil protest. No affiliation to any known group was claimed. It had the hallmarks of a new vigilante agenda.

However, it wasn't handled with any kind of sensitivity. Tanks rolled into town and raised their guns at the same time the message was delivered. 'Release the hostages and throw down your weapons and we can discuss your concerns. You are surrounded, there is no way out'.

An awkward silence preceded the first group of hostages walking out of the building fifteen minutes later. This piecemeal release of the newspaper staff continued for almost an hour, when finally the chief executive emerged. He asked to see the commander of the armed forces, and nervously conveyed a message from the leader of the 'squatters'. It stated that all hostages were free, and that no arms would be surrendered until all civilians were evacuated from the immediate vicinity. The commander acknowledged this, and at the same time prepared his units for a street battle to the death. He then ignored the chief executive of the newspaper, who'd claimed that the perpetrators had harmed none of his staff, and only wanted discussions with government representatives. Another thirty minutes ticked by, and then suddenly charges were detonated from within the building, causing it to crumble rapidly. Much of the falling masonry crushed the first line of tanks in an instant; the commander had ordered them into an offensive crescent around the front entrance. Flying debris accounted for at least thirteen soldiers. There were no survivors from inside the entire office block. This military-style mass suicide during the occupation of a leading media publication was the first of its kind, in which the participants had decided to make the ultimate sacrifice whilst trying to avoid others being killed.

However, the main message they delivered was on behalf of those whose young lives were going to be terminated in ten years, without knowing if there was any hope of a reprieve. The occupiers had merely wanted to know what was being done, and what they could do to help stem the tide of lawlessness. The willing forfeit of their lives proved to be a landmark strategy compared to any other form of protest.

The ripple effect forced all state-sponsored asteroid-killer organisations to get together and begin dissemination of progress on a monthly basis. NERO, NASA, Beijing, Moscow, and Delhi complied. As a privately owned entity, VB Aerospace had a choice. Brandt deliberated over the pros and cons of joining the clique or going it alone for a while longer.

# Chapter 8

June 2030

Volker Brandt had always been a patient man when considering any collateral damage he could deliver to other people and organisations. This was in stark contrast to his impatience with missed deadlines in his own company.

The leaked video footage which hastened the resignation of Sir Ian Waverly two years ago, had been pretty much unanimously attributed to his enemies within NERO, he was disliked intensely. However, since Brandt had been the architect of Waverly falling on his sword, by calling in a favour from a mole in NERO who'd pulled the trigger, he felt it was now time to reap the harvest of sowing that particular seed. Having decided in 2029 to officially remain outside of the international clique charged with destroying or bumping the asteroid off course, the moment was now perfect to strike. Other than Julien Delacroix comparing notes with the members of the clique, regarding the trajectory of Chocolate Orange, VB Aerospace was seen as solely concentrating on the Mars mission.

Brandt chose to make an announcement, exclusively within VB Aerospace, which would ultimately provoke accountability protest against those organisations officially responsible for Earth's survival beyond 2039.

He summoned Julien to his flight deck.

"I know we've all been working to the original launch date of 2033, but something has come up and we need to think again."

"You mean to delay it until we are more certain of the asteroid impact location?"

"Perhaps that is how it should be perceived, but the driver behind this is somewhat more sinister." He switched on one of the video screens and Julien watched in amazement, as he recognised the speaker, but not the environment.

"That's Ivan Kolorov...."

"Shh, just listen."

The Soyuz facility in the background was one of the most closely guarded installations on the planet. The video feed was from some previous internal presentation, recorded for preservation and posterity, but with 'eyes only' access. Kolorov had altered the original voice-over.

"Herr Brandt, good evening. Finally, I am able to confirm what I said on my last transmission. Not only has the launch date been brought forward, but by a significant amount of time. It will be approximately two months ahead of yours instead of one month behind. I cannot believe there are corners we can cut to achieve this safely, but the decision has now been taken. What do you want me to do?"

Julien's eyes widened as he realised where this was going.

"No, no, no, Volker, we can't respond to this, surely it's a bluff."

"You may be correct, Julien, but I won't take the chance of Kolorov being wrong, or working as a double agent. You're constantly pressing me for more expertise, so how would you like Ivan to join your launch team? I was going to recruit him anyway because his Intel has always been reliable, and I have to get him out of there; such an offer and his response would tell me if he is indeed a double agent. We now have to look at 2031 for our launch. It is the next year in which the two planets are in reasonable alignment."

"It can't be done, you heard the man say himself that safety will be compromised if Soyuz accept their new deadline. Anyway, Soyuz only make the spacecraft and train the crew, there must be some other organisation involved in bankrolling the mission itself."

"Naturally. It doesn't take a genius to see it's not the Russians, it is NERO. I've known for some time that Waverly was funding this surprise from 'under the counter'. But you unknowingly blew a hole in his illusionist strategy by spilling the beans on Chocolate Orange becoming an impact event. He was then going to be pressed into spending two fortunes rather than one, just as we are. But his chicanery would have eventually been caught out by the bean counters in NERO, because he hadn't budgeted for anything but watching the asteroid glide past Earth. Then, in his mind, two fortunes could be combined into one fund, and Soyuz would assure his glory by leap-frogging us to Mars. He hadn't accounted for you letting the genie out of the bottle, even though you didn't know it was in there."

"All very interesting, but it doesn't change anything. We can't launch in 2031, the planets are relatively close then, but it will be impossible for us to be ready in a year from now."

"In normal circumstances, yes. These are not normal times, Julien. With Kolorov's help we can do it. This change in plan must be kept absolutely to the very minimum of personnel. Create another 'dummy' unmanned mission, for a craft which is supposedly intended to sit out there, relaying data about Chocolate Orange from space. By the time we are ready, we will announce that it is crucial for this to be combined with our revised manned mission launch date in 2031. This deception is necessary, Julien. I won't be beaten by these bastards. Just tell people for now that we've decided to exhume the option of monitoring the asteroid from out in the cosmos. It does come at significant extra cost, but we are the only ones dedicating resource, transparency, and responsibility to the people on this planet. We can only do this because we are fractionally ahead of schedule on the Mars launch programme. It is belt and braces, Julien, the public will buy that. And before you tell me the astronauts' safety will be compromised, please note that I'll be one of them. By the time the truth gets out, we'll be looking at Soyuz accepting defeat. So, even if they could hit their new target date, it will be too late; their cooperation with NERO will have lost all credibility, and then they'll be plagued with internal wrangling. The two partners will know they've been screwed, and with a bit of luck, blame each other. Now, I can also provide proof of Waverly's misappropriation of tax payers' funds, which I will only do when we decide to join the clique. And that will only happen when the whole world knows that none of its space research member companies trust each other. This will possibly produce a clamour for us to lead the asteroid deflection programme instead of being perceived as a bit part player. Julien, we have a responsibility to get the entire species to come to terms with reality, someone has to. The other organisations with 'World Body' status are complicit with NERO, simply by condoning the drip-feeding of known bad news to the public. That's what you always get from politically controlled organisations. Go away and think about this, my friend. Come back and see me when you've factored _everything_ into the choices ahead, including your family."

*

As Julien wandered back to his office, he reflected on the changes over the last two years. Sophie was in great shape. She'd taken to the way of life in Guiana, the societal primitiveness, the natural scope for her art, and the true friends she'd made. Julien saw her once or twice a week, and that was her idea. Elise had been convinced that her daughter had come through the hell she suffered in Lyon, and returned to live with Geraldine. As hard as it was to leave Sophie behind, she knew it had to be done, as she herself said she couldn't handle the climate. The pull of city life also played a big part, creature comforts being high on the list. Eugene had come and gone, but had landed a really good job in Boston. His remit was right at the cutting edge of research into manipulation of DNA, not the cloning of existing species, rather how natural mutations occurred and how they could be corrected.

Julien snapped out of his daydream and was able to see why Brandt wanted to address the threat of a NERO/Soyuz claim to Mars. The stench of corruption was bad enough on Earth. Wasn't this why he'd joined VB Aerospace in the first place? He hadn't forgotten the duplicity of NERO when they hung him out to dry. Perhaps with the assistance of Ivan Kolorov he could meet the new deadline of 2031. At least he now had no need to convince Brandt that they should monitor the asteroid from Mars space, as he had already come to that decision of his own volition.

*

Unknown to any of the organisations which would make up the reconstituted clique, Chocolate Orange was hurtling through the silent blackness of the Cosmos bearing a scar. The altercation which shifted it to an impact path with Earth involved an unregistered comet, from the Kuiper belt. Julien had known of some collision for some time now, but not precisely where it occurred, nor exactly which kind of cosmic object it was. Its remains were embedded into the asteroid, like a cuckoo in a happenchance nest.

*

Brandt's announcement of the decoy Mars listening post deception was allowed to ferment before he offered Ivan Kolorov a key position in VB Aerospace's genuine mission to set foot on another planet. The Russian was only too happy to consider joining Brandt, giving the impression that Soyuz was about to conduct a thorough security x-ray of their entire operation. Presumably this was required before rolling out details of the changes needed to comply with their altered launch plan.

Kolorov accepted Brandt's offer almost immediately, in fact, a little too easily for the German's liking, not asking for many of the usual assurances for such a post. But in fairness, he had to concede that it would be better to take the guy on before he would have to spring VB's new launch date in 2031 on the unsuspecting Russian. Kolorov would have to accept such 'insanity' just as Julien had.

Brandt hadn't yet ruled out that Kolorov's haste may be explained by him being a double agent, but he'd get an inkling of that when the reaction of Soyuz was analysed. The stakes were so high that Brandt had to be a willing participant in a poker game which was rigged by every player.

His patience paid off. Soyuz hit him with every legal challenge in the book. It would take months to even get to an international court, which meant Kolorov was unable to take up employment with VB Aerospace, yet couldn't continue to work for Soyuz either. The bigger loser was Soyuz. Brandt had bought a fresh delay for the Russian launch without having to pay anything upfront. He came over as being devastated when he told Julien that his new recruit was on hold. They had to move on and begin the search for other candidates.

Things got even better when global polls showed VB Aerospace as the most trusted outfit in tackling both the Mars project and preventing Armageddon. This would go a long way to Brandt being officially asked to share his vision with the world, and ultimately coordinating all available resource to achieve it.

Julien began to see that the corruption which had triggered his outburst in Osaka had only been a symbolic event in a ruthless mosaic of diplomacy and cunning. He began to wonder if he'd jumped from the frying pan into the fire. It caused him to shift focus back to his family.

# Chapter 9

2031

The world media had assembled in the remote, locked-down facility in Guiana. Ninety-nine percent of the circus personnel had never been within a thousand miles of the location. In the past, all press releases from VB Aerospace had been handled by the company's PR division. This was different. Volker Brandt's name was reasonably well known, but the man himself was quite a mystery to most of the world population. Philanthropist or recluse? Perhaps both?

He rose to his position at the front of the gathering; there was to be no lectern or prepared written notes for referral. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for coming today. I wanted to address the entire world, as I have updates for ongoing programmes and a crucial announcement regarding one of them. I wanted to avoid any misunderstanding or room for doubt about what is going to happen in the next few days."

The murmurings gave way to utter silence before he continued.

"We are all facing difficult years ahead. I can confirm, despite what anyone else may have you believe, that an asteroid will impact the Earth in 2039. Our latest tracking data clearly and unequivocally demonstrate its trajectory. It is a **fact**. What can be done about this? Well, we have researched various methods of dealing with the problem and now they are narrowed down to three feasible approaches. Let me deal with the simplest one first. If the other two were to fail, we have a last line of defence in the form of nuclear warheads to destroy the asteroid. That brings with it unpredictable consequences, one of which could cause fragmentation, and thus change the threat from a single impact into multiple impacts. We have therefore allocated most of our research resource to safer options. The favoured one is to impact the asteroid itself when it is far enough away to eliminate immediate collateral damage to our planet. There are a number of ways we can do this, and we are still researching the ones which can deliver the best reliability. The trade-offs with this method are distance and accuracy. The work in hand also has to be geared to the optimum time. Seven years may seem like more than enough time to figure this out, but we must not forget that the asteroid would not be on an impact course if it hadn't been struck by another cosmic body. So, we need be aware that this could happen again. There are several possibilities, and I apologise in advance for any confusion which follows, but we must take into account all manner of events which could nullify our efforts.

"If the asteroid was bumped again as it heads for the Earth, we may not have to do anything. But, we need to exercise caution here, because we must be certain that it will not then collide with anything else in the solar system which could put it back on impact trajectory with our planet. Another scenario also has to be considered; if we send our deflection force out into space too early only to find the asteroid isn't where it should have been, we still can't rule out a new collision which restores the threat. Therefore, a logical conclusion would be to wait long enough to be sure that any deflection attempt can be quantified in terms of altering the asteroid's course **and** that the new path is clear of further possible incidents.

"This is where the third option comes in. Many of you are aware of our intention to have an advance monitoring station out in the solar system to help in gathering data on the asteroid continuously. What you do not know is that I have decided that it won't be an **unmanned** listening post, as was initially intended. We will launch a manned craft with all the necessary tools to accomplish extremely comprehensive, more accurate monitoring of the threat than we have on Earth. However, the second objective of the crew apart from setting up such crucial scanning programmes for the asteroid from Mars orbit, is to land on the planet. This manned mission to Mars was initially scheduled for 2033, but after many months of debate I took the difficult decision to bring it forward. Whatever we may do in a dedicated attempt to preserve life on Earth, things can go wrong, and as the stakes are so high, I felt we needed to create a second chance for the species to survive. Now, this is where I really do want to avoid any misunderstanding. Is it completely safe to bring the Mars landing so far forward? The simple answer is a resounding NO! However, that will still be true in 2033, missions like this are never free of danger. If Earth was to fall prey to an impact, even if it wasn't an extinction event, it would probably kill off any chance to supply those already on Mars. So, other launches of essential life supplies will follow in 2033, 2035, 2037, and hopefully by then we will have good news on the deflection programme. I insisted that the crew would have to be volunteers, and I couldn't ask something of others that I wasn't prepared to do myself. Therefore, I will also leave in a few days from now. At my age, it is unlikely that I will ever return, or even withstand the outward voyage during the months in space. Just as well then that I have a very capable man to continue the leadership of VB Aerospace. His name is Julien Delacroix. I fervently hope that this dual strategy gives every last human the best odds of surviving well beyond 2040. I try not to think too much about it, but I've got to admit I'd dearly like to make that return trip to a better world here on this planet. And in that spirit, I want to turn to the sentiment which pushed me into this course of action. A few years ago, you will remember newspaper offices in Germany being invaded by sixty armed individuals. I should stress that I could never condone the way they did this, but they made no ransom demands, they killed no employees, and they freed every one of them. It turned out that their planned suicide was to remind all of us that society was breaking down in our world. These sixty martyrs hoped to achieve a turning point in anarchism, terrorism and corruption, a task in which no world government have ever succeeded. Wherever my final resting place is to be, I will remember the profound effect these sixty people had on my life. Thank you for your patience in listening to this monologue. Hopefully, you will have another speech to hear if everything goes well and I can return home before 2039 to announce the deflection programme was a success."

*

Brandt's bugle call to the human race was well received, and particularly within the scattered family of Julien Delacroix. Eugene rang his father and asked if there was anything he could do, such was the inspiration he felt from Volker Brandt.

"Dad, before you lecture me about the good job I have in microbiology, I feel useless because I'm not doing anything which will help with neutralising this death sentence in 2039. You're going to be the boss in a few days, so there must be lots of support work to do for both of the tasks Mr Brandt spoke about. If you think I can be useful in any way, let me hear it and I'll be on the next flight. I think it could be pretty cool working with my father on a project with such a potential payoff. But remember, I don't come cheap."

"I don't know what to say, Eugene. I'm actually a bit overwhelmed emotionally, but I'd love to work with my son in some way or another, let me give it some thought. In any case, if the worst happens, we shouldn't be spending the next few years apart. Sophie is really happy here. In some respects it's like a step back in time, but people interact with each other much more than in Western Europe. We have to think about your mother though. We don't want her to be on her own."

"Leave that to me, Dad. I think she could be talked around to our way of looking at this after hearing Brandt. Helping the entire species, surely she can see it isn't all about the Delacroix family."

"Ok, son. You have no idea how much I appreciate your offer. I'll definitely get back to you soon. Bye."

When Sophie heard about Eugene's intention, she also volunteered to speak with Elise. Julien hadn't felt so good in years.

*

Volker Brandt had one more outstanding issue to take care of before setting off for Mars. He asked Julien to join him in the 'flight deck'. This time _every_ screen was turned on, and the shock, blatantly reflected on the face of the new boss of VB Aerospace, temporarily rendered him speechless. When he fully realised what was happening, he spoke.

"Volker, how long have you been able to tap into the activities of other organisations to this degree?"

"A long time, and this is why I want to speak about how it must continue like this. You would be naïve in the extreme if you believed they don't try to spy on us. So far, I believe we've managed to thwart them, and that responsibility now falls to you. As I told the world, I would dearly like to return to Earth, but I owe it to the crew to see out the establishment of survival and beyond on Mars. I have therefore decided to transfer my stock in the company to you. I have never been married, have no children, and therefore no heir. So, you are the new owner of VB Aerospace as well as the boss. Now, take this card, he is the only other person who knows about our espionage activity. He set up the system and smooths out glitches every once in a while. He is only known by this reference – 'Cyclops'. It's the only way he works, and I've asked him to contact you after the launch. You are the only person I can trust to see things through at this end, Julien. I know you recoil from such underhand practices as a matter of principle, as do I, but you will come to realise that the gloves are already off as far as our competitors are concerned. This setup will convince you more than any words I can muster. It's very sad that the people we cooperate with are actively planning to take us out. I learned this the hard way and I'm sure you will be astonished when you get the time to view these screens regularly. You are a man who has never coveted wealth, but in order for this organisation to protect its moral code, such wealth is an essential enabling tool. In fact, in most organisations around the world, corruption is rife, simply because individuals with the responsibility for running them do little else but feather their own nest. You'll get the hang of it."

"I'm no Volker Brandt, I'm not even a business man. You're right, I don't crave wealth, I recoil from accumulation of money purely as a measure of my success, and I'm not driven simply by outperforming competitive organisations. I get my fix by solving problems which others can't. I have to ask, are you really sure about all this? I have never seen myself as your successor."

"That's precisely why you are the right man, Julien. I know that you will always go the extra mile to solve this wretched asteroid problem, and all I'm saying is that you need a helping hand. Knowing exactly what the other members of the clique are **really** doing, as well as hearing what they **say** they are, is an absolute necessity, even if you decide to go along with what they tell you. Wish me well my friend, we may never see each other again."

# Chapter 10

The launch itself went smoothly, but for billions of people it was a bittersweet image they witnessed on TV. Christopher Columbus had set off on his historic journey with only one aim, but he discovered something of much more importance in shaping the world he lived in. Brandt already had two objectives, but both were tied to a single cause. Danger was implicit for both of these men, but at least Columbus knew that if he failed, he would simply revert to being a person of little notoriety. He didn't have the end of the world as his primary taskmaster.

The onlookers seemed to struggle with Brandt's personal sacrifice, his no-win situation. He had bequeathed everything he'd built during his life to give the species a second chance – one which demanded a lot more respect for the planet which had sustained the lives of its inhabitants. He was sixty-seven years old, and the odds were seriously stacked against him surviving the trip to Mars, let alone seeing the Earth prevail, if that was indeed achieved. They didn't want him to leave. He'd counted on that.

The Crew

Arnold Muller, at thirty-nine, had edged out a host of superbly qualified astronauts to be given the nominal captaincy of the mission. He was respected without being particularly popular with the rest of the crew. Brandt had been a little surprised at the choice himself, but had agreed to the final decision being left in the hands of experts. Muller simply topped the overall ratings and scored exceptionally well when placed under psychological stress. He then had a certain amount of input into the selection of the remaining crew.

He stressed his need for a first officer with the backbone to challenge his decisions when necessary, subjecting all alternatives to the rigours of logic – nothing more and nothing less. He was a man who had difficulty with subordinates resorting to emotional judgements, even in situations of extreme stress. However, he was as compassionate as any father could be in dealing with aberrant juvenile behaviour in his family life. Apparently this equated to a potentially unruly crew in the eyes of the selection committee.

Deborah Winchester wouldn't have been Muller's first choice, but then neither would he have been the obvious captain for Brandt. She could at times appear to be devoid of sensitivity when there were changes in plan, to the point of being attributed the mind of an android. She'd never married, didn't want children, and as far as anyone knew she'd never had a serious 'relationship' with another human. This fascinated Brandt, as he had never married, but later in life admitted that he missed not having any children. He was slightly concerned that his experts had got this one wrong.

The role of chief engineer had been a much easier decision than the rest. Hiro Kenji was the outstanding candidate, matching electronic genius with a surprising hands-on ability to conjure up mechanical solutions to hardware problems. A cutting sense of humour was never far away, and he'd dreamt of stepping on another planet since he was able to talk; he had allegedly talked about nothing else as a kid. He wasn't the tidiest person in the world but remembered where everything was at any given time.

In terms of knowledge, Nina Knudsen had been second in the rankings for the science officer's position. She was elevated to the crew because of a serious infection suffered by Martin Cooper-Levey. Because of Nina's mother being Russian, Brandt had insisted that a second clearance procedure was conducted without her knowledge. The possibility of connections to Soyuz had been in Brandt's mind ever since he'd known of their attempt to beat him to Mars. All was well, and Nina relished the opportunity to employ her considerable biochemical skills on Martian dust and rocks.

Both software expertise and routine communications were to be under the control of Hans Back. Half Swiss and half Swedish, he surprisingly beat other more experienced candidates in the tests. The speed of his mental processing ability shaded him ahead of many disappointed rivals. The only concern had been his ability to explain the reasons for certain decisions he took. He found difficulty dumbing down the technical explanations to other crew members. He seemed to be allergic to layman's terms. He found it irritatingly tedious to continually translate his byte-speak, yet he had undergone intensive extra training to improve this aspect of his profile. In the final analysis, the positive aspect of getting to the core of a problem much quicker than his main rivals won over the selectors.

And then there was Brandt himself. He offered no expertise other than reminding everyone else in the crew that he was aware of his limitations, physically and technically. He wanted no special treatment and would see that nobody else did either. He basically asked to be ignored, except when he had need to communicate with Julien Delacroix, in which case he would require priority and privacy.

Altogether, an eclectic mix of personalities to establish the first human bridgehead on an alien world. During the years of intense training following their selection, none of them wanted to be kicked off the mission or get anyone else into trouble. But that was to be a simulation exercise. Brandt wondered about how they would gel in reality, especially in the face of adversity. He took it upon himself to become the 'go to' psychologist, not by any announcement, but by encouragement and arms-length mentoring.

*

Something Brandt hadn't counted on winged its way through near Earth space to the vessel, aptly named Kepler. The password protected video transmission was from Julien.

'Volker, sorry to trouble you with housekeeping issues, but we have picked up telemetric and system checks which indicate propulsion data of Kepler is not quite what we expected. It's still within nominal specification, and maybe it will settle down once the vessel recedes from Earth gravity. The curve of velocity relative to mission time will be further evaluated at the prescribed coordinates. You might want to get Kenji to send us your readings as soon as you can, just to make sure that we still have correlation. I know you guys have only just pulled out of Earth orbit, but better safe than sorry. I'm also aware of your concern about outside influences, and I've seen nothing on your office 'flight deck' here to worry about, so I believe the marginal variation will self-correct. Julien.'

*

Before Brandt could shake off the G-force effects, Kenji and Captain Muller asked to speak with him. Brandt got in first.

"I assume the urgency is because Hans Back has done what I asked and made you aware of the gist of Delacroix's message. I have to confess, I don't fully understand what he said. I'm a simple man and I tend to think in black and white. Either there is a problem or there isn't. But he said he wasn't sure. What do you make of his concern?"

Muller told Kenji to explain.

"Well, sir, he's probably right insofar as we used more fuel getting through the bumpier weather when we blasted through the atmosphere. However, the propulsion unit is well over-specified, and anyway, fuel consumption is one thing, engine efficiency is another. I've already started my own diagnostics and we'll soon have solid information to assess. That is important because there is a slight possibility that a minor problem can develop into a more serious one. We need to know if our diagnostics match up with those of mission control."

"Right, so what if they do?"

"We will need to do specific checks, some of which could require an EVA, sorry... that means extra vehicular activity."

"And if they don't?"

"If there isn't agreement we either have a software problem in mission control or on Kepler. I would prefer it to be back home."

"So, which checks would require an EVA?"

Muller intervened.

"This is all speculation at present, sir. However, if we find a problem which justifies an EVA, it would almost certainly indicate a hardware glitch. That's something we really don't want to contemplate at the moment, because if propulsion efficiency becomes highly variable we would find it difficult to arrive at Mars orbit insertion coordinates at the optimal time. If we were to miss that window completely we could risk heading on out of the solar system over the next few years. Thrust is the only way we can adjust velocity. Kenji can elaborate on this."

Hiro Kenji began nervously.

"Yes, if we have a problem it's crucial that we know as soon as possible, because we would have to calculate a new burn schedule and implement it, hoping the propulsion problem does not get worse. We have scope to increase and decrease thrust to reset the velocity curve as long as the engine efficiency stays within specification. My primary concern would materialise if we suffer permanent serious under-thrust capability. We wouldn't then be capable of making up lost time. Anyway, the sooner we know if there is a problem, the easier it will be to get back on the correct trajectory. Because if we don't, we could...sorry, I don't want to think about that. We don't have sufficient life support commodity to survive an effectively rudderless journey which doesn't meet up with Mars. However, if that did happen, we may get lucky and collide with something in the asteroid belt, which would truncate the anxiety, you know, instant lights out."

Brandt forced a smile and patted Kenji on the back. Muller wagged his finger at the Japanese engineer, indicating he should not be so frivolous. Brandt eased the tension.

"Fine, let's respond when we know the facts, Hiro, and keep me posted through Captain Muller."

They parted, each of them looking considerably calmer than they felt.

*

Julien had expected an immediate response of some kind, even a simple acknowledgement, surely. The delay created an annoying mental void, which set off an altogether different train of thought. He couldn't help regurgitating the moment when Brandt told him that he was now very rich, in control of his own destiny, except for him now being totally responsible for prolonging the longevity of the species. He hadn't told Elise or the kids exactly how much wealth he'd inherited. He somehow thought it would devalue his stock with them. He'd always made it clear to them that his life was never going to be about materialism. That wasn't going to fit well with a disclosure that he was now **the** richest person on the planet, no matter how much he pleaded that Brandt had given him no choice. It was bound to alter many aspects of the rest of their lives, whether that was fifty or a meagre ten years. 2039 had become a double-edged sword of Damocles, neither side less sharp than the other.

Being jolted back into action mode, he sent a repeat message, asking for confirmation of receipt, because there should have been little or no time delay with communications. This time it went direct to Muller. Settling back into Brandt's leather swivel chair, he engaged with the screens, feeling decidedly out of his depth with his additional inherited remit of espionage.

# Chapter 11

Muller's response to Julien was prompt but concise.

'I'd be grateful if you would address all communications to me, Delacroix. I'll make sure that Volker Brandt sees all relevant transmissions, but I have to remind you that the safety and command of this vessel rests with me. Herr Brandt is basically a passenger, even though he called the shots on Earth. You also need to remember that he took the place of a person with expertise from whom we could have benefitted. I may need to authorise an EVA if your data correlates with Kenji's diagnostics. I can't send Brandt out on that one. I hope I make myself clear. As soon as we have full diagnostics you will be apprised. Muller out.'

The tone of this written riposte worried Julien and he contemplated asking Brandt to muzzle Muller, but he took a deep breath and decided it was time to let Elise know of the change in his financial status. Her phone rang interminably and he was about to put the receiver down.

"Hello," said a breathless Geraldine.

"Hi, it's Julien, is Elise there?"

"Yes, she's just getting the shopping from the car, I'll get her."

Eventually he heard the patter of shoes on the wooden floor of the hallway.

"Julien, hi, I was going to call you. Both Eugene and Sophie told me that you have been promoted by Herr Brandt and you are now the senior executive of VB Aerospace. Congratulations."

"Well, that's only half of the story. I'm afraid you won't like the other part, so I'll just say it straight out. Brandt doesn't expect to return, and he insisted on leaving VB Aerospace to me, all of it. I refused, but he is a very persuasive man and he wore down my objections to his intent. It still grates with my conscience, such obscene wealth, but he made me promise to run the operation in exactly the way he had. He wasn't really interested in money anymore. So, I wanted to talk to you about the possibility of the family being reunited once more. I know you had problems with the climate here, and there were other issues, but now that our vessel Kepler is on its way to Mars, the countdown to 2039 begins in earnest. Even if you can't face being here permanently, we should be together when crunch time comes, especially if I fail to blow the asteroid off course. My salary alone now means you can afford to fly in the comfort of first class, and I'm thinking of having a property built with every mod-con imaginable. I know that the kids were going to ask you to spend more time with us but they don't yet know just how much this 'unwelcome fortune' I've inherited amounts to. Workwise, I have a great new opportunity for Eugene to consider, and I think Sophie could use some help with getting her talent back to its best. Could you think about this please? And if you think it's appropriate, tell Geraldine that she's included. Well...I mean if that's something you would both like to do together."

"There's something you need to know, Julien. I've been dreading...well, worrying about how to bring it up. I've met someone. I wasn't looking... you know. Damn, I'm just hopeless with stuff like this. It's just a casual friendship at the moment, but I do like him and I was going to tell you the next time we were face-to-face. Perhaps it would be good for me and my sister to come to see you and the kids pretty soon, and we can talk more... more openly than using the phone. How about that?"

"Uh, yes, I err, well, that would be fine with me. Do the kids know about this guy?"

"No, even Geraldine doesn't know, at least I don't think she does. It's better that way, at least for now."

"Right, well, I hardly know what to say. I suppose I'm trying to believe you haven't actually told me. It suddenly feels as if I've brought this on myself. Anyway, as you said it's difficult to talk about it on the phone, I need to be close to you. So, in that case, can you let me know when you'd like to come and I'll fix up the accommodation. Then I'll tell Eugene and Sophie to make sure they can be free when you arrive."

"Ok, I really feel ashamed now, but either I had to...end it or get it off my chest. It has been like living a lie. I don't know what else...maybe I should have waited until I got there, I'm so confused. Anyway, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Take care."

He felt disoriented, Elise had never seemed so detached. Julien Delacroix's hand began to shake as he reached for his pen. All of a sudden it hit him. The life he'd led had imposed the self-same detachment on his incredibly tolerant wife. Elise had accepted his dedication to his work for decades without ever complaining. He belatedly felt so selfish, never having asked her what she would like to dedicate her life to, other than the kids. She had always just got on with all of the mundane stuff like paying bills, keeping the place neat and tidy, tending to the garden and socialising with her unmarried sister. She was right to have reminded him that she could have been a professional dancer, but he'd stupidly rationalised that as frivolous compared to charting rocks floating around the Cosmos. He hoped this was a wake-up call rather than an irreconcilable situation. And yet he had previously dismissed her hints about wanting a divorce.

*

Hiro Kenji stared blankly at his diagnostic readouts. Everything was normal. He grabbed those transmitted by mission control and scratched his head while mumbling to himself. 'This is crazy, the skipper is going to think I'm crazy. We are using the same equipment, well, the same kind of equipment, so this has to be a software malfunction, hiccup, or corruption at one end. But which end? I'll have to run the test again and ask Delacroix to do the same, so that we each have two dots on the chart to compare'.

He went to Muller, who was equally puzzled. He told Kenji to run another scan while he went to talk with Hans Back.

"It's just as well you are handling communications and software, Hans. Hiro is doing another diagnostics right now, but we don't seem to have the same data output as mission control. I'd like you to think about software glitches before we send our data back to Earth. Let's just keep this under wraps for now. There's no point in panicking everyone if there isn't really anything wrong."

"Ok, boss, I'll get on it immediately. Give me a couple of hours. I know, two hours is a pisser but we have a pretty complex system to check out thoroughly."

*

Julien's mind was constantly shifting from saving the planet to saving his marriage, when something on one of his spy screens caught his attention. A flashing red signal was followed by the appearance of Ivan Kolorov. He turned up the volume.

'Ok, Delacroix, things didn't turn out the way I was told they would by Brandt. It was unfortunate for me, but convenient for VB Aerospace. You got valuable information without having to pay the bill. Now I have something of even more importance to you. But this time I won't accept promises, it has to be action, backed up with legal documentation. Call this number from a public phone if you want to know more, then if you want to take it further, I can come to Guiana.'

The transmission ended and the screen went black. Julien's first inclination was to check this out with Brandt, but then he sensed that this could either be genuinely important information or payback for reneging on the previous arrangement which had been offered to Kolorov. Perhaps he should take advantage of starting a new relationship with Kolorov. He could always tell Brandt later, but he could never undo telling him now, if that proved to be a mistake.

*

A three-way meeting between Muller, Kenji and Back concluded that it wasn't acceptable to authorise an EVA until mission control ran another check on the software at their end. They asked Brandt to join them and Muller briefed him.

"So, we should ask Delacroix to get on to this without delay. An EVA is a last resort as far as I'm concerned."

Volker Brandt stared at the floor, appeared to wince and nodded slowly.

"Very well, Captain Muller, go ahead and while you're at it ask Julien to give me an update on other projects in a password protected zip file."

"Thank you, sir. I'll send our response with the relevant software data through to him now, he should receive both sets of our diagnostics within the hour."

Brandt knew that Julien would handle the request with utmost urgency but it was difficult to predict how he would chase down any infiltration of the mission control system if their second scan came up with the same concern over propulsion efficiency as the first sweep. He also pondered the possibility of false results having been orchestrated on board Kepler. He had to engage with each crew member individually, but in an innocuous, paternalistic way.

He began with first officer Deborah Winchester. The fact that Volker Brandt even had an opinion about the captaincy of the mission was perceived as derisory by many of the candidates, including the one who'd landed the job. Brandt had already noted that Muller was less than overjoyed at the appointment of Deborah Winchester as his prime confidant within such a small crew.

"Hello, first officer, don't mind me, I'm just filling in time. Unlike the rest of you, I don't have a long list of responsibilities. What is it you are doing at the moment?"

"Well, sir, it would take a long time to explain and I must concentrate; it would be better if you came back to see me when I'm finished. If you have nothing to do, why did you take up valuable space and life support function which could have been better allocated to a person of relevant expertise?"

"As you quite rightly suggest, I'll come back later. But you may want to think about what I can authorise mission control to do that you cannot. Expertise is crucial, that's why I want to see what it is that you're doing, but it can wait."

He struggled a little with the artificial gravity and literally bumped into Nina Knudsen. She apologised, knowing it was his fault.

"Thank you, Nina. It is Nina isn't it? Are you in a hurry? I'm trying to familiarise myself with all the tasks on board and who exactly does what. But if it's inconvenient, just tell me and I'll pester someone else."

"No, it is not a problem for me. You see, as I am a microbiologist, my real work will only begin when we are on Mars. I am making sure all calibrations are correct and ready for when we get there. I can show you what equipment we have and how it can help us. I hope I am saying it right, my English is not the best."

"Your English is fine. I'd like to see how you calibrate the equipment. I do, however, need to be aware of the crew's schedules, as the first officer has just reminded me."

"Oh, yes, Miss Bossy. Excuse me, I should not be saying such things. I did not mean it in a bad way, she is very good at her work, but she asks or answers questions without discussing things too much. Everything is yes or no, well almost all of the time. She needs no small talking, but I must say she is very good. She could easily be captain if Muller was ill."

"Well that is comforting to know, Nina. Knudsen is a Swedish name isn't it, where is it you live?"

"I was born in Russia, because my father worked there when he married my mother. She was at the same company in St. Petersburg and they stayed until she had me. The family moved to Malmo before my brother was born, and we still stay there. Ok, should we begin the calibrations?"

"Please do, and tell me if I'm asking too many questions."

# Chapter 12

Julien had a wad of printouts in his hand and they all said the same thing – 'the propulsion efficiency of Kepler was not as it should be'. He wasn't normally as touchy about forwarding results, no matter what they implied. They had to be verbatim – exactly as they were generated, and had been checked several times. There should never be any leanings toward 'sanitising' information just to make the implications easier to deal with.

At least that was his previous life. He now had no upward delegation option, the buck absolutely stopped at his door. It simply would not do to invoke any reason for fudging or delaying the truth, whether or not his family situation continued to deteriorate. He needed a quiet place to think, somewhere his thought process would not be interrupted. He left his office to find a quiet phone booth from which he could call Kolorov.

"Ah Delacroix, I was beginning to think you had no interest to speak with me."

"Well you indicated you had information which could prove to be important. I've had to deal with a lot of difficulties in the last couple of days. They were problems of a finite nature, whereas your subject 'could' be interesting. Can you elaborate?"

"I should not have to, you must have an idea, surely?"

"Look, I called you didn't I? I'm extremely busy but I've made time to speak with you. What is this about?"

"Before I reveal all, I need to determine how valuable my participation would be."

"Participation? That sounds like you expect to work with me in some way."

"Correct. That is what I was promised by Brandt. Now you are the man. The past is the past as long as it is not repeated. The subject is propulsion requirements to get to Mars. That is what you are trying to do, is it not?"

"Keep talking."

"You really have no experience in this kind of dealing, do you? Goodbye."

The line went dead. Julien had no idea what he'd said to provoke such a response.

He was lost in a fog, but then again, he'd always been in a fog when tracking asteroids, and he wasn't going to concede defeat. After all, Kolorov had contacted him in the first place.

*

Having slept on the propulsion quandary, Brandt pondered over which crew member he should check out for a second time. He didn't need to single out Hiro Kenji. The discussions he'd already had with the Japanese engineer and Captain Muller served as good yardsticks. Kenji seemed to be totally focussed despite his sarcasm. He couldn't really say that about Muller. Having been apprised of the spat between him and Julien, he was disturbed. Julien Delacroix was a straight-talking man, he hadn't communicated directly with the captain because he'd have wanted Brandt in on any potential problem. Muller's reaction was not one of building bridges or even mending fences. Everyone aboard Kepler depended on perfect synchronisation with mission control for their survival, so what was the point in antagonising the top man so early in the journey?

Hans Back had made a good impression, but Brandt decided to get to know him better, simply because any incoming communication would almost always be seen by him before anyone else.

"Nothing new from Earth, Hans?"

"Not yet, Herr Brandt. I can ask them for an update, even if there is nothing significant to report yet."

"If you think it's appropriate. I wasn't suggesting that we should push them for a reply before they are ready. Maybe I conveyed too much concern with my question. By the way, why is it you address Captain Muller as boss, and me as Herr Brandt?"

"Oh, it is just habit I suppose. I have worked with Arnold Muller many times. Captain Muller would sound a little formal after all these years. I hope he doesn't mind. You are the man who is putting money in my bank account, at least until we get back from Mars. That requires me to be very respectful. The grapevine says you have handed over the running of the company to some guy named Delacroix, but as long as you are alive you will be Herr Brandt to me."

"I see, well, don't let me interrupt what you're doing. I'm sure Julien will be thorough in checking out the data before sending it on."

"Yeah, I suppose that is what is taking so long. My usual contacts know nothing yet, otherwise I would know by now."

*

Julien returned to his office and felt there was no point in further deliberation over the new diagnostics. The big question was _how_ to handle the raw information. He opted to send the data directly to Muller and let him stew on the implication that mission control officially confirmed their initial concern over propulsion efficiency. It was Muller's call to ratify or decline a procedural EVA. At the same time he used Brandt's request for a password protected zip file to update the more clandestine side of VB Aerospace espionage. It read – 'Flight deck observations have been useful with respect to other reasons for the lack of correlation in diagnostics between Guiana and Kepler. This line of enquiry will be pursued and further observations passed on'.

He preferred to leave Ivan Kolorov's name out of this for now.

*

The incoming data threw Muller off script, he was certain that Kenji's pronouncement of 'all clear' on Kepler would turn out to pinpoint a glitch back on Earth. The two of them pored over the detail and asked Brandt to join them. He responded immediately as he was already in receipt of Julien's hint at possible sabotage in VB Aerospace. It placed him in an awkward position if the prior decision to rule out conducting an EVA was reversed.

"Sorry to summon you to hear more bad news, sir," said Muller, "actually, confusing would probably be a more accurate adjective than bad, but we still have to deal with the Delacroix report. Take a look for yourself, he insists that the first tests they ran were correct, the values being virtually identical. As I see it we have two options. We can return to Earth or authorise an inspection of the propulsion mechanisms, a physical check rather than relying solely on electronic interpretation from sensors. I don't want to paint a picture of immediate danger to the crew, but if Delacroix is not in error, the sooner we estimate whether we can expect to achieve Mars orbit the better. In order to do that we need a handle on projected deterioration rate of our propulsion capability. To achieve that with confidence I'm afraid we have to consider an EVA."

"I guessed that's where you were going with this, Captain. And I suppose you'll remind me that Julien Delacroix cannot do this for us. What is your prognosis, Hiro?"

Kenji shifted uncomfortably, being put on the spot like this was potentially awkward.

"The captain has said it all, sir. The only other possibility I can suggest is to consider an 'unnecessary' short burn. I'm happy to follow Captain Muller's plan, as I'll be doing the EVA. It occurs to me, however, that a burn of minimum duration would give us a more definite match or mismatch of what the electronics see compared to direct energy expenditure. If there is no discrepancy, then I'd have to say Delacroix needs to think about the poor correlation again, and investigate the hardware back there. If there is still a mismatch we would have to go EVA."

Brandt looked at Muller, half expecting him to prickle at Kenji's suggestion. He did the opposite.

"Brilliant idea, Hiro. I should have thought about that myself. I'd like you to get on preparing for it right away. Of course I should inform mission control of our request, so they could approve and monitor this 'quantum burst'. It will be interesting to compare each other's findings. I assume you have no objection to this Herr Brandt, the fuel loss will be minimised and it could avoid either an EVA or turning back to Earth."

"Let's progress this plan then," said Brandt. "Look, you should concentrate on corroboration of Hiro's theory. Leave the politics with mission control to me this time around. I'd rather have answers than guesswork. Your assumption was right, Captain Muller, I have no objection. So, why don't you and Kenji get the detailed calculations ready? I'll get Hans Back to connect me with Julien Delacroix, pronto. Well?"

"I'm good with that. Let's go Kenji."

*

Kolorov surprisingly made contact out of the blue. Julien's waiting game had paid off.

"I don't have the luxury of time with this situation. You do know why your Mars mission was brought forward?"

"Only what Volker Brandt told me. That Soyuz were about to launch before our original departure date."

"Yes, but how did he know that?"

"Because you told him, expecting he would employ you to assist in our mission."

"Fine. Well, I also told him that the Soyuz plan was dangerous; it was unsafe for many reasons. I could have explained all of the flaws in their plan when I joined VB Aerospace, but that never came to pass."

"Look, Kolorov, I was told by Brandt when he put me in charge of both the asteroid tracking and Mars mission, that you would be coming to assist with the latter. That's all I know."

"In that case you must realise that when Volker Brandt made his speech to the world about your new launch date and that he was prepared to die on Mars, he blew my cover. It didn't take Soyuz long to put the jigsaw together, with a little help from NERO. I became a leper. Now, I know you have poor correlation in propulsion efficiency between Kepler and Earth data. How do you think I know that? And, do I know why this problem has surfaced? Yes, I do. The price of this information is a belated fulfilment of the promise to work with you. I trusted your old boss once and got stung, can I trust you?"

"Only you can decide that. However, I think we should cut this crap of clandestine contact. If you're prepared to come here and discuss this face-to-face, and what you tell me makes sense, you'll have to take my word that I will hand responsibility for the Mars mission over to you. I could use your expertise, like yesterday. Does that reassure you or not?"

"It helps, but that's what Brandt said. Could you prepare a written contract for my employment and then judge the information on offer? If I can see the unsigned contract when I arrive, I'll tell you all I know. Then we can sign the documentation, if we are both happy."

"Agreed. Now, can you get here as soon as possible? Where are you now?"

"You do not need to know that. I can be in Guiana within twenty-four hours, I'll let you know the exact time in thirty minutes."

"Fine, I can't meet you at the airport, so call me when you are through customs, there will be a driver waiting for you while you collect any luggage."

# Chapter 13

Having received Brandt's message indicating the proposal to implement a short burn of fuel, Julien was forced into a corner. He had to make Volker Brandt aware of the probability that the cause of poor correlation was somewhere within VB Aerospace.

The reply read – 'It is of utmost urgency that you prevent this unnecessary waste of fuel. It has come to my attention that the problem is at this end. I will have details within twenty-four hours. We should also forget about any EVA. Delacroix'.

It was again sent in a protected zip file.

Brandt was deep in thought when Hans Back informed him of the incoming message. He'd already decided that he could rule out both Kenji and Back as suspects. That left only the two women and Muller. Upon opening the zip file, he breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't entirely understand why Julien hadn't explained what evidence he'd found to substantiate his admission of a problem in VB Aerospace. His gut told him it must either be complicated or a different cause for concern. No matter, he had to tell Muller to abort the burn immediately.

Brandt studied the body language of Muller and Kenji as he showed them the message. The latter patently displayed joy; he was off the hook. Muller began by challenging Julien's competence.

"I can't say I'm surprised, Herr Brandt. Perhaps he should stick to what he knows – chasing rocks! How in hell can he get it wrong twice and then admit they messed up. Then he has the nerve to try to distance himself in the process? 'It has come to my attention', as if he wasn't responsible for overseeing the diagnostics, especially when a second run was needed. I really do look forward to the full explanation. Does he even realise that six lives are in his hands?"

"I can see why you're so unhappy, Captain, but let's at least reserve judgement until we hear his evidence. You're absolutely correct when you say all our lives depend on this 'umbilical' with Earth, and that will remain so for some years, even if we arrive at Mars orbit on time, reach the surface safely, and kick-start a colony. I urge you to stay calm. It will be counter-productive to alienate those on whom we depend without good cause. I know Delacroix better than anyone else, and I can tell you he'd never falsify evidence, no matter how much pressure is imposed upon him."

Muller nodded, but in what appeared to be silent protest.

*

Julien collected Elise and Geraldine from the airport and detoured to show them the land he had acquired for his foray into house design. Both women had to confess that it was an exquisite location, perched on a peninsula, with the ocean at one side and an estuary at the other. Standing in the onshore breeze, they appreciated the contrast in climate to the sultry, draining cauldron of the spaceport. He didn't attempt to talk up the advantages of such a spot for everyone. Commutable for him and Eugene, if his son accepted the job offer, conducive to Sophie's recovering status in the art world, and Elise having the whole family together once more. They stayed longer than he expected. He reminded them that they still had to check into the hotel and then meet up with the kids.

*

Julien needed a short private conversation with his son while Elise and Geraldine reminisced with Sophie.

"Eugene, I'm sorry to drag you away from the family reunion, but what I have to say is for your ears only, at least for now. If you like what you hear, then I can begin preparations to create a completely new department. You need to think this through carefully, so don't even try to give me an answer now. Take all the time you need. Assuming Kepler touches down on Mars, and the resupply chain hits no snags, I'm sure we will find that it is a very inhospitable place. Not just the physical aspects, but the mental fortitude required for long spells of 'leisure' time. It's a subject which has been simulated by some organisations, especially NASA back in the day. However, all of those tests had the option to abort if something went wrong. I'm being deliberately pessimistic when asking – what will it be like if we fail to deflect the asteroid? Even if the colonists can become self-sufficient by 2039, the prospect of a handful of people clinging on to life will be dire. They have to consider procreation, but will they want to bring other souls into an alien world with so little to offer?

"Listen carefully, Eugene. I've read quite a lot on the work you currently do, and it occurred to me that there might be some overlap with this mission. You seem to imply that in the domain of the very small - bacteria, viruses, diatoms and the like, there are 'mechanisms' which exist in abundance, thus giving their species a strong chance to adapt to external stimuli. Mechanisms which human research has largely ignored."

"Now you _have_ got my attention, Dad. Sorry... please carry on."

"Ok, now let's jump to something you told me relatively recently. You made a comment when Sophie was at her lowest ebb, one which stuck in my mind. If I remember it accurately, you claimed that viruses, when adapting to a host could actually affect _our_ physiology. The mental change which follows that shift is often attributed to cerebral residue, depression etcetera, whereas you said there could be increasing evidence of mutation of our DNA at play. If this still holds true in your mind, I want research done as quickly as possible."

"That's a hell of a tall order. We would need state-of-the-art facilities, and that would just be the beginning. We would also need some of the best microbiologists on the planet."

"I know that, but in the scenario of life on Earth being extinguished, what else is there to invest paper or electronic money in? It becomes irrelevant. Just answer one more question. You intimated that schizophrenia was a typical condition which could result from the genes we humans were born with. But, in a wider context, we have to include examples from the entire animal kingdom. We then find that some genes are switched on to form wings, other switching patterns can cause deficiency in immunity to life-threatening diseases. In the case of schizophrenia, couldn't we engineer some of these virus activities you mentioned to combat the affliction rather than causing it?"

"Uh, well, I suppose it should be possible in principle. But hang on a moment, all we have up until now are observations. It's a big step from watching viruses waving their magic wand to us making them do our bidding"

"Sure, I get that. However, the ethics lobby will disappear if the asteroid gets past our defences, we could all be dead! Also, Eugene, if that time comes and there is no hope, people here will not be thinking about the fledglings on Mars, mark my words. From where I sit at this moment in time, we have to take this awful possibility into account. I'd like to explore whether we can change human resistance to all kinds of physical and mental degradation. Just sitting and hoping we might be lucky enough to dodge toxic atmosphere, radiation, utter depression at being a survivor isn't good enough, it all feels so negative. We have to do something while we have time, and anyway, I appear to be calling the shots now. Is this task sufficiently interesting to get you thinking about joining me?"

"First reaction? Absolutely, but I'm going to take your advice and look into what it all means. I don't want to get to 2039 and realise it was all just a pipe dream."

*

Eugene left to link up with Sophie, as they both wanted to see the proposed site for their father's new property. Julien had laid on the transport and was pleasantly surprised to hear that Geraldine had gone with Eugene for a second look. It gave Julien the opportunity to speak with Elise alone, but first he had to check his in-tray. There was a message and he was more than a little relieved that Brandt had managed to halt any intent to waste precious burn capacity. Elise arrived and began to express her wonder at the change in her daughter's attitude. Julien smiled, and let her finish before launching the difficult question.

"This man you've met, has it become a physical relationship yet?"

"It's really none of your business, Julien. A bull in a china shop couldn't cause more damage than... than your tongue when it comes to delicate matters. I will try to answer your question before I return to Lyon. I was honest when I told you I'd met someone, so please allow me...at least a few days with the kids before we sour the family atmosphere... yet again. Let us change the subject for now. I thought you had invited me here on my own to see if I would reconsider staying here. Sophie does love Guiana, so have you talked Eugene into joining your...your fan club?"

"He has a specific offer to consider, and I advised him to take his time before letting me know what he wants to do."

"Oh, that's good. I wouldn't like to be the only one who might spoil the party."

"Elise, I know I've been a selfish bastard all my life. I don't deserve your loyalty any longer. I was going to say that if your relationship had become sexual, I'd understand. I'm too old to change some habits, but I still want to make you feel welcome at any time here in Guiana. That applies whether or not the kids get sick of the place and return to Europe. I don't really want to meet this guy, but I wouldn't object if you came with him. I don't want to lose you completely, and anything I can do to retain the bond between us is uppermost in my mind. I just hope that you appreciate exactly why I can't abandon the work I've committed to. I still love you dearly, and I admit I never seemed to show it. I can't put that right, and I really don't blame you for looking elsewhere. Can we still be friends?"

"Of course, just let me enjoy the break and we can talk before I go back. And, thank you for saying you're ok with me seeing... well, being friends with someone else. The world might end for all of us, and I do realise the importance of what you are doing about it."

They hugged as they parted, and she saw how her husband was struggling to keep his emotions under control.

# Chapter 14

Julien received the call from his driver to say Kolorov had been picked up at the airport. It was the signal he needed to prepare the flight deck. He'd considered the conundrum facing the Mars mission relentlessly, and finally concluded that he would never be able to think along the same lines as Brandt. However, he had to trust someone with such experience, as much as that in itself was troublesome. Kolorov had scores to settle and would therefore be driven by such a need; he also had to have employment which provided the means to achieve his objective. It was a question of _how long_ rather than _if_ he should align himself with the Russian. All screens were blacked out but ready to go at the flick of a switch.

"Good morning, Delacroix. My god, I knew Volker had his fingers in many pies, but hell, this is beyond anything I ever imagined. I really underestimated the man, in more ways than I was prepared to admit."

Julien shook his hand and ushered him to sit in the 'cockpit'.

"Yes, I think we both thought we knew Volker better than we actually did. So, to business. Perhaps you should begin, with how you claim to know about the smoking mirrors of the Mars mission. That really is the key, you know, as to whether or not we have mutual interest in working together."

"Fine. It is not rocket science, forgive the humour, but you must have guessed I was kicked out of Soyuz because Brandt timed the announcement of his new launch date so perfectly. I was one of many employees suspected of leaking the intention that we were hell-bent on attempting to get to Mars before VB Aerospace. Soyuz were then pressured by NERO to set an even more ludicrous date to launch. Virtually every technician who could be linked with this 'assumed betrayal' of Soyuz was interrogated. Every one of them had deemed this premature launch as extreme folly, and repeated their views, even under duress. Despite the evidence they produced to show their innocence, they were subsequently dismissed. Soyuz itself didn't really want to take such draconian action because they lost some of their best people. But NERO insisted that the cleansing had to happen, otherwise their investment would be withdrawn. Money always wins in the end. The purge was overseen by Henry Fellowes, a really devious bastard, you must know of him, surely?"

"I actually know the man quite well, he made a favourable impression on me when he restored my pension rights and got rid of Waverly. Having said that, I did think at the time it was a damage limitation decision rather than any moral judgement about my predicament."

"Right, I see. Well, he basically runs everything and everybody in both organisations now. Some of the people who escaped his edict are still friends of mine. They do not accept what Soyuz has become, but, like myself, they don't have better prospects. I have to be honest with you, if I had been offered re-instatement by Soyuz I would have accepted, especially as Brandt washed his hands of me completely. So, there you have it, that's _how_ I know, but not _what_ I know. I hope we can now progress to whether you feel able to employ me, assuming the information I have is important to you, and then what can be done about the situation. Knowing something is one face of the dice. Proving it, using it, pretending you don't know about it, and reversing its effect, make up the other faces – all but one. When we last spoke I asked you to prepare a contract offer, unsigned, and then we could get down to specifics. Do you have such a written offer for me to look at?"

"Yes, I have it ready, but before I let you peruse it, I have to know how Soyuz and NERO are likely to react to you joining us. I know we've touched on this already, but it is pivotal with respect to what is in the contract."

"Putting it bluntly, they will shit themselves. They truly believe I am a spent force, tarred as a double agent, to be avoided by other respected organisations around the world. The only exception is VB Aerospace, because you already know how I was hung out to dry by Brandt. Soyuz and NERO could never have foreseen you succeeding him. I have an inside track and they know that, and you offering me a job is the last thing they want to see happen. I can put you in control of the immediate future, you will surely judge me on how I achieve this, and you don't have much time to play with. The proof of that is evident – you almost sanctioned a completely unnecessary burn programme – the first step to crippling the Mars mission. Whatever you decide, do it quickly, otherwise my leverage will decrease and your objectives will become collateral damage."

Julien pushed the contract across the table for Kolorov's perusal. The Russian studied every clause carefully and finally spoke.

"Are you serious about asking me to take over the leadership of Mars mission control?"

"Of, course. Why? Does that scare you?"

"Quite the opposite, in fact, but you must realise it would raise my profile to such an extent that NERO will sharpen their knives. I can handle that, but can you handle Brandt?"

"He can't interfere much out there in space, and Captain Muller seems to be on a crusade to diminish his influence on Kepler. It won't be a problem. Now, let me have the contract back and tell me what's really going on. Then I may sign it."

"Ok, where to begin? I think we can start with Waverly's demise. Henry Fellowes needed him out of the way to convince the board of NERO to align themselves with Soyuz. He manipulated the terms to deliver his own candidacy for merging the two company structures, saving a hell of a lot of money, but more importantly, to plant his spies throughout Soyuz. Once that was done, it was only a matter of time before he 'bowed' to the clamour to head up the new beast he'd created. One of his first decisions was to head-hunt the ex-employees of VB Aerospace who'd left because Brandt promoted you to oversee both the asteroid programme and the Mars mission. These people were more than happy to be primed to sabotage Kepler's quest. They still had friends in your organisation, and some were carefully selected and offered serious inducements to devise a plan, whereby you would convince yourself that there was something wrong with the vessel. Whether that meant the voyage would be abandoned, or worse still, the crew would find a way around each problem but ultimately perish due to overconsumption of fuel."

"And you have proof of this?"

"I have a list of ex-employees and those still working for you. You will need to check everything out for yourself, and you should begin in the IT department. If I am really to take over this mission control, I would be bringing in independent expertise which would elicit confessions from each conspirator. They would be charged and asked to surrender the bribes they received from Henry Fellowes. This plan should remain within these walls so that NERO believes everything they set up is still on course. We continue to put out disinformation that we cannot pin down the problem."

"Sorry, but I must have missed something. Why would these people confess and then surrender the bribes?"

"Because we will offer to pay the bribes back to them when the mission lands on Mars. After all, they accepted the money on the basis of delivering failure. But they will be offered a choice. If what I have outlined is not to their liking they will suffer an untimely accident."

"Wait...I can't sanction mafia-style behaviour in this company. There has to be another way... otherwise it's a deal-breaker."

"May I address you as Julien?"

"You didn't need to ask, I never understood why you always referred to me as Delacroix."

"Good. If for some reason we forget to seal off the airlock in space, what happens?"

"Everybody dies."

"Right. That's what is going to happen to the entire crew if we don't make the conspirators believe we won't shrink from sending them to the same fate. Trust me, I have dealt with such people in Russia all my life. Lean hard enough and you get the confession, and they still get paid by our enemy. We have a paper trail which allows us to blackmail NERO whenever we have such a need. But it is actually important for another reason. One of the crew is involved in this conspiracy, but I have yet to find out the name. You do not know what you are dealing with here, Julien, but you should at least believe that I do. I am desperate to accept your offer, but unless I can eradicate these people if it becomes necessary, I will have to turn it down."

Julien was completely thrown by such moral quicksand as described by Kolorov. He decided that the moment had come to switch on the screens.

"Jesus Christos," whispered Kolorov, "this simplifies things for us. We still have to make NERO believe we cannot solve the riddle, but this setup offers me the option of dispensing with independent expertise and its attendant risk of leaks. I can use this monitoring system to get you the proof of what is going on, and by whom it is being orchestrated. However, my last remark stands, I will not accept responsibility for the mission unless I am allowed to convince the traitors that I would have them killed if they do not comply. Julien, they are scum; they are quite happy to put a suicide martyr on Kepler and put thousands of your people out of work by murdering your company."

Julien blinked first and they both signed the contract.

# Chapter 15

The crew aboard Kepler had not been apprised of Kolorov's appointment, on insistence by the Russian himself. He painted the picture for Julien.

"The NERO mole on the vessel has to be someone who has been recruited and trained with the rest, however, I don't want that person to get a message back to their controller that we are on to them. At least not until it becomes an advantage to us for them to know. You can use Brandt to investigate with my guidance. Once we do know the identity of the mole, we can decide how to use the individual without them knowing what is going on. Julien, just keep focus on the big picture – always the big picture."

"I'm trying, Ivan, I really am. Let me know when you want me to contact Brandt. I feel sure he will contact me soon because I haven't given him the full rundown of our 'doctored' propulsion variance, he just knows that there isn't a problem with Kepler. The current situation is still a worry for the crew though, if they have no confidence in our data."

"True, but let us just stay quiet for now."

*

Eugene told his family of his decision, he intended to accept his father's offer, and that he'd be moving to Guiana pretty soon. Sophie was overjoyed that she would be re-united with her brother and began pressing Elise to do the same.

Geraldine was now aware of her sister's relationship back in Lyon and excused herself from the discussion, offering to make everyone a coffee. Elise dropped the bombshell of her new 'friend' as gently as she could. Eugene was relatively philosophical about it, but Sophie was distraught.

"Mum, how can you even think about doing something like that when I'm just beginning to get on top of my problems? Does Dad know?"

"Yes, he does, and he understands. I have needs too, the rest of you seem to have forgotten that... if indeed you ever gave it a thought. Now listen, I'm going to tell your father that I will join you here for long spells, but I'm not going to just... just airbrush my friend in Lyon out of my life. We have mutual interests and I want to preserve that feeling as long as it lasts. You seem to think I'm nothing but your mother, to be there whenever I'm needed. And I have been, Sophie, ever since you were born. You and Eugene have made your... your free choice to live in Guiana, so why can't you just accept my preference for France? If your father can put up with that, then you are going to have to adjust in the same way."

Sophie visibly paled, and the tears began to flow. Yet she nodded acceptance of Elise's decision. They hugged and promised each other that they would try to enjoy the extra time they would be able to spend together, wherever that was.

Geraldine returned with the coffee and was relieved that there was no serious acrimony to overcome. Then she announced that she would only come to Guiana on special occasions. Eugene made his farewells as he headed off to see Julien, wondering what all the fuss was about. He couldn't quite synchronise the plight of his family with the prospect of all their lives being truncated in 2039.

*

The asteroid was making its way smoothly through space, until the cuckoo embedded from crossing paths with the comet split into two almost equal parts. Remarkably, they both clung on to their new mother, and this critical struggle was totally unobserved from Earth.

*

The relief brought about by not having to go EVA was replaced by impatience. Mission control was being obstinate according to Captain Muller. He wanted to hear that Julien Delacroix had not only found the false propulsion data was of Earth origin, but that he had corrected the fault. Brandt asked if he should intervene. Surprisingly, Muller said, "I would appreciate that. Delacroix seems to be immune to my messages, telling him that we have to consider aborting the mission if he doesn't have absolute confidence in the control system."

"Very well, I shall ask him to give me an update within the hour."

Brandt went to see Hans Back, reminding himself that any standard communication could be seen by this man, so he decided against the protected zip file approach. It wasn't the kind of message in which he wanted the content or the tone to be disguised.

It read, 'Julien, there is a lot of apprehension on Kepler because you haven't been able to let us know you have eradicated the fault in your system. Muller is even contemplating abandoning the mission. I would have to defer to him if there is an ongoing safety issue. Please send me an up-to-date analysis with the utmost urgency. Apparently, if we find we have to burn a lot of fuel after we reach the maximum value in the planned velocity curve, it could consume any reserves we have. There may not then be sufficient to return to Earth. Honesty is critical in this context. If you cannot be certain that you have one hundred percent confidence in your equipment you must say so. Brandt.'

He thanked Hans Back and left to speak with Kenji. Brandt smiled as Hiro hadn't seen him approaching and was belting out a refrain, normally sung by a 'hero' of his own, albeit with some changes to the lyrics.

"This is ground control to Major Arse, we're going to die in a tin can...oh sorry, sir, I didn't mean... it is just my..."

"Yes, I see. But who is Major Arse?"

"I shouldn't have been so disrespectful. It meant nothing."

"Well, the more you protest, the more you seem to be hiding something. We are all in this together, or at least that's how I look at it. Just tell me, it won't go any further."

"I never seem to learn, I should apologise to the captain. It is just his unpredictability. He is always changing his mind about what he wants me to do, it gets me down because it never makes any sense."

"Right, well we all have our little foibles, Hiro. So, what are you doing now that frustrates you?"

"It is the life support controls, he said it was oxygen rich three hours ago, now he says he feels queasy. He wants it reset to where it was. I keep telling him it should be left on auto, but he is the boss."

"That is strange, anyway, I just wanted to ask you what you make of the delay in getting a full explanation from mission control for the recent discrepancy in propulsion efficiency."

"To be honest, sir, I never believed our units were underperforming. I know these babies, I even dream about them. Sad isn't it? I always felt it was a software problem, and it is a relief that I was right, you know, it just happens to be down there. Captain Muller didn't really have the same confidence in Kepler as myself."

"Well, let me say, I do have the same faith as you do, and forget about your indiscretion - Captain Arse."

*

Eugene contemplated exactly how far he could push the envelope in working for his father. He secretly believed that the research could be an umbrella for working on his sister's problem. If progress was significant, he was prepared to forego the notion that she was merely unable to summon the tenacity required to fight periods of depression. He hoped he would discover the means to treat her schizophrenic tendency. He'd be delighted to admit he had been dismissive of the condition formally being denoted as an illness. He couldn't wait to get started; fiddling around with the human genome. He seemed to have found his first true calling. Microbiology was a science, but this was more, a science with an acutely specific aim. It also had the pressure of a timescale, yet that in itself could be so irrelevant if his father couldn't deliver a knockout punch to the asteroid. He contacted his mother by phone while he waited to see Julien, to make her aware of his moment of epiphany.

"Hi, Mum, I know how difficult it is for you and Dad, but we all have to do our own thing, whatever it takes, so we can enjoy the next few years. I'm confident in Dad's ability to nullify the asteroid threat, but nobody can be certain. His offer to me to work with him has really motivated me to take a leap of faith and just get started. You know how sceptical I am about blind faith in anything, however, I want to help Sophie as much as I can. It's a long shot I know, but I need to do something other than fixate on my own career. She's been doing well recently, and this announcement you made about 'a friend' back in Lyon could destabilise her again. I don't know why, but I have this compulsion to investigate a means of correcting her vulnerability to depression, some of which is triggered by concern for other people. I have to be honest, I've only seen this in her since she came to Guiana. But I have the notion that it might actually have its roots in her genetic makeup. I suppose I've also been guilty of grossly underestimating the sacrifices you always made for us, and Dad as well. So, it's not too difficult to understand why you might want to spend the rest of your life back in France, I just hope you can visit the rest of us often enough to maintain a real family connection, 2039 will be here before we know it."

Elise was caught off guard, this was almost a complete U-turn in her son's ingrained scientific tendency to reduce every situation into logical argument, sidestepping any emotional issues.

"That's a wonderful idea, son. I'm...I really am so pleased that you have the ability to even look into helping Sophie in this way. It does sound a bit scary to me, not being able to comprehend what is involved. Listen, I haven't said I won't ever consider... that I wouldn't want to be with you all here in Guiana, I just need different things right now. I can't promise anything, but what you have just told me is buzzing around in my head with all the other personal stuff I'm trying to sort out. I think I might... I'll probably stay here a little while longer. I'll speak to you soon. Love you, darling."

Elise was unable hold back the tears. Her mind was in turmoil, she was emotionally shipwrecked.

*

Julien's meeting with Kolorov wasn't going well. He was beginning to regret taking in the Russian.

"Ivan, just back up a minute, will you? You're telling me I don't have to worry about the internal leaks any more, but where are the details? I've got Brandt and that hothead Muller demanding an explanation."

"Julien, you recruited me to sort out all of the Mars problems. There are some things you are better off not knowing."

"And you think I'm going to buy that? I recall your previous statement that some disgruntled ex-employees were responsible for the cyber-manipulation of our data, but no names were mentioned. You also said they were working with someone here in VB Aerospace, but again, no names. Start telling me who they are."

"This is awkward for you, I know, but those who left the company and betrayed us have already been taken care of. That will flush out the internal traitor. It is how it works in Russia. Please don't ask for information it is unwise to have."

"For hell's sake stop talking like we're running the Mafia. By 'taken care of' you mean you have enough proof to begin legal proceedings?"

"No, come on, get a grip on reality. That would have taken months, there is no time for pissing about with lawyers."

"Surely you don't mean..."

"It is the only way in our situation. Look, there are people up there in Kepler, whose lives are at stake. And don't think for a second that these bastards care a fig about our crew. Julien, these people are fucking terrorists, you cannot negotiate with them. It is done, there is no going back, and there is only one rat to flush out of our little maze here in Guiana. He or she will make a mistake pretty soon. It is more important to think about what to tell Brandt. There is still a serious risk aboard Kepler."

Julien sat, head in hands, unable to take in the mess he had created by dealing with people like Kolorov, and even Brandt himself.

"What do you suggest, Ivan? I'm nothing but a blind man in this world of espionage."

"I have given it a lot of thought and we still benefit from the advantage of the mole on Kepler being limited in communication options. This will not remain so for long, so we have to introduce some new redirect protocols immediately, to avoid the culprits becoming suspicious that their plot is unravelling. We have to keep Kepler safe for the present, and quickly find the traitor in Guiana. That will help in neutralising any rogue action by someone aboard the vessel. **We** have to take over the 'deep throat' role with Kepler until we know the identity of their contact person in our midst. That is the order of things, Julien. As far as Brandt is concerned, I recruited an expert to advise me on how we would deal with all kinds of hypothetical cyber-attacks. He was very helpful, and produced a report with details even I could not understand. So, if I have trouble with the jargon, I do not expect Muller or Brandt to question the report – especially as the section I modified is over twenty thousand words. They wanted detail, they will have it coming out of their arse."

# Chapter 16

While Muller and Kenji were poring through the plethora of complex data sent by Kolorov, they agreed that they were both technically deficient in structural software coding, and decided to ask Hans Back for his input.

Meanwhile, Kolorov had plumbed further into the depths of his contacts in Russia. He invited Alexei Bondarenko to visit Guiana and study the archives of the flight deck video screens. Julien hadn't put up any resistance, although morally critical of such methods, he simply wanted the mission restored to default status, leaving the Cosmos itself as the only threat.

It took an overnight session for Bondarenko to finally recognise someone on Brandt's screens. The woman in question appeared multiple times in several locations over a period of time. Bondarenko fastened on to this, it just didn't fit with the fact that some of the locations were in organisations which were bitter competitors. He and Kolorov ran through the footage several times, and eventually they found the explanation. All of the suspicious sightings were subjected to facial recognition tests and the answer became clear. There were two different women who looked like twins, but not necessarily identical twins. It was a step too far to believe this was merely coincidence.

"Good news," said Kolorov, to Julien, "a stroke of luck. We have identified one of the persons we are looking for. Surprisingly, the first one Bondarenko recognised was captured on film in both NERO and Soyuz footage. But the facial recognition checks threw up a real curveball. This individual is a sibling, she has a twin who just happens to be on board Kepler. This makes our task much simpler, but still tricky, Julien. We can now neutralise the threat to the vessel pretty much immediately, and of course that is our main concern. When that happens, the traitor here in VB Aerospace has less leverage to wield. We can then confront this person, even if it reveals that we are not only aware of the threat, but on top of it. It also affords us the opportunity to beef up security on our control system as we deal with the traitor. Do you want to explain all of this to Brandt or would you like me to do it?"

"Ivan, I think you've earned the right to let Volker know you're with us now. It might even make him more comfortable for the rest of the journey to Mars."

"Ok, will do. It is always the little details which make up the full picture. And before you ask, Bondarenko will handle the other sibling, we will concentrate on the one aboard Kepler."

*

Brandt remained calm when he received a communication from Julien. The message simply stated that all was well at last and the proof was in the details which were now being scrutinised by Hans Back. His closing remark however, produced a slight surge in Brandt's heart rate.

'I've been a bit cagey about this, but I can now reveal that the credit for finding the cause and correcting it, must go to Ivan Kolorov, and he will contact you shortly via our password protected zip file. He has a lot of technical stuff he needs to share with you. Safe onward journey,

Julien.'

*

Feeling a lot more relaxed, Julien informed Kolorov that the way was clear for him to contact Brandt.

"Now it's all set up, tell me who this 'terrorist' is, and show me the proof."

A couple of stills from the flight deck were placed on the desk. Julien found it hard to believe. He recognised Nina Knudsen. He glanced at each image several times before he spoke.

"Ivan, this can't be..."

"Turn them over."

One had the name, location, time, and personal details of Nina Knudsen, and the background was the astronaut training centre right there in Guiana. The other was in Soyuz HQ, and the name was displayed as Greta Beria, maiden name Knudsen. More images were thrown on to the desk. Beria was depicted in NERO HQ, and again in Soyuz, but this time together with Nina. Julien slumped into a chair. Kolorov spoke calmly.

"There is a reasonable possibility that Brandt missed this connection, after all he was travelling all over the planet during these times, but we can't yet rule out that he'd seen the women together. He would have had all of the crew seriously vetted, and it should have thrown up family stuff which would normally have attracted a red warning star."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The door flew open and the Communications Director apologised for the intrusion. He addressed Julien directly.

"Sir, we've lost our link with Kepler. All interfaces are flat-lining. The fault isn't at our end and...well, they must be in serious difficulty. It wasn't a stuttering loss of contact, everything went dead in an instant. Can you authorise shifting one of the big radio telescopes to see if we can pick them up visually or by interpretation of noise from their last position?"

Both Julien and Kolorov leapt to their feet and accompanied the Communications Director to the asteroid monitoring wing. It took a few hours for the re-focussing to deliver the indisputable verdict. There was nothing but debris where Kepler should have been. The circus of dealing with the disaster would have to kick in soon, and at least temporarily supplant the personal grief of both Julien Delacroix and Ivan Kolorov. It was simply not possible to hold back on releasing the news, and then later having to submit to the onslaught of a media witch hunt.

Kolorov watched Julien mentally disintegrate in front of him.

"Hey, pull yourself together, man, I know this has happened on your watch but none of it was your fault. We have to get our announcement ready. It has to acknowledge the attempt to corrupt VB Aerospace operating protocols. Too many people here know and have worked on trying to find answers or to pretend it didn't happen. But, Julien, whatever destroyed Kepler could be totally unconnected. An ion storm or a hail of small rocks, a fire, anything. It happened so quickly after you sent your last message to inform Brandt that I was going to contact him. There was no time for anyone on board Kepler to have sussed we had nailed the suspect. Well, maybe one. This guy Back, it is possible he has been able to open your zip files, but then again, there has been no mention to the crew of a possible suspect on the vessel. For now at least we should not make accusations which cannot be substantiated. Conclusions are pending further investigation. Come with me, my friend, we can do this together."

Julien got slowly to his feet and trailed after Kolorov, shaking his head continuously. He was in no condition to make a cogent analysis of what Kolorov had just said. He suggested that he should outline the available evidence for the tragedy, and asked the Russian to cover the attempted cyber-attack.

*

The news was perceived differently in the apartheid world into which society had drifted. The judgement of VB Aerospace by the 'haves' was nothing less than scathing. Volker Brandt was seen as the posthumous artisan of the disaster, blatantly cutting corners to escape a world in the throes of social collapse; one which people like him had helped to create. From saviour to villain in the blinking of an eye, even portrayed by some journalists as a self-serving extremist, and cynically compared to odious dictators of the previous century.

Julien, although seen as a mere architect of Brandt's obsession with setting foot on Mars, was pilloried for not standing up to the German on the decision to launch Kepler prematurely, and particularly compromising on issues of safety. The same vultures who eulogised VB Aerospace for their proactive drive to rescue the species from certain extinction were now blessed with the sagacity of hindsight. The company reputation was portrayed as being in ruins, and confidence in the asteroid deflection project was predicted to suffer as a result.

By contrast, the 'have nots' weren't rushing to judgement. They remembered the honesty of Julien Delacroix when he let the entire population know of the duplicitous negligence generated by the Osaka conference. They smelled a rat in the water pipe; it was, in their mind, also clogged with sewage peddled by those who had most to gain from such a disaster. A steady increase in demand ensued for Julien to be given time to be more explicit on the entire situation. The fact that Kolorov alone had handled the allegations of cyber-conspiracy, and Julien had confined his remarks to the disaster in space, added fuel to the existing suspicion of some kind of cover up, but by whom? One which would simply refuse to go away.

*

Kolorov suggested that they put some urgency into making the flight deck disappear.

"As wonderful as it is, Volker Brandt created a monster if viewed from the present circumstances. It could actually become the means of our downfall. Are you hearing me, Julien?"

"Yes, I am, but I still haven't come to terms with the loss of Kepler. I need a couple of hours before engaging with even more destructive activity. You're right, the flight deck must go before anyone knows about it, I'll see to it later today. I just want to be alone now, Ivan. Please give me some privacy, as I need to speak with my family, I want them to come here so we can talk this through, in particular what comes next."

"You are not thinking of quitting are you?"

"Maybe, I don't feel anything but numbness right now. How about you? Sorry, I forgot, you've been through stuff like this before."

"Actually, I wasn't sure exactly how to approach you about it, and yes, I have observed horror like this on several occasions, and that is why we must keep our references about conspiracy to remain vague. It is also why I only told the media there could have been a cyber-attack, and we checked it out to be certain, but found no hard evidence yet. I know you weren't happy about the way I put this across, but as I said previously, if Kepler was destroyed by an accident in space, shouting our mouths off about conspiracy would ensure that we would become targeted by the hit men for no good cause. It would be different if we had proof of real sabotage actions, but all we had was circumstantial evidence of possible collusion of the Knudsen sisters. This kind of shit never gets any easier to take, but I am not going to die for nothing, Julien. However, as you have raised the subject, and now that the mission is kaput, my expertise isn't going to be of much value to you now. Like you said, it all seems a bit surreal, and yet we were so close. Look, I don't want you to agonise over this anymore, I'll just quit, and as the press always need a scapegoat, because it is their lifeblood, at least I can take a fair slice of the blame with me. It is a real shame, but nobody would take us seriously if we tried to begin again, you know, to take another shot at Mars. So, please be warned, if you insist on fuelling the conspiracy theory, I will have to deny it. We both have to survive the attacks which will come our way, even though they will be delivered from different sources."

"That's hardly fair to you, Ivan, I'd rather front up to the media again when we know more, so, if..."

"No, Julien, You are wearing those rose-tinted glasses again. Just get back to trashing this damned asteroid. My career was blown already. Let us shake hands and accept that we did our best. My C.V. is toxic now, and that won't help you, so a total change is a must. I am done talking about this. Au revoir, my friend, I think you should go to your family, instead of bringing them here."

"You're right once again, Ivan, it's just that I don't want to appear to be running away from my responsibilities. Anyway, if I can't talk you out of leaving, you must take care of yourself in your own way, and I truly hope we can stay in touch."

They embraced and Kolorov closed the door quietly as he left.

*

The Delacroix clan gathered in one of the less conspicuous, family-run restaurants. Julien had become world famous for the second time, and a lot of people interrupted the family discussion to pass on condolences and wish him well. He wanted to assure Eugene that the offer on the table for him to work on genetic research still stood.

"I'll be concentrating on asteroid hunting from now, but somewhere, sometime, there will be another organisation trying to claim Mars, and they will need the kind of benefits your research will bring, Eugene. Now then, Sophie, I won't be as busy with just one project on my hands, and I would appreciate your involvement in designing my new house, in fact I'd like to get on designing it for us as from today. Your artistic gift will be crucial in creating a place for you, Eugene and me to enjoy. Neither of you needs to live there, but you will always have a place to stay with me whenever you want. The same goes for you, Elise. I'd understand if this tragedy changes your mind about spending more time in Guiana, but I'd love you to come here any time you feel the urge. If you wanted to bring your friend or Geraldine, don't hesitate. This awful event shows just how fragile and short life can be. There's no time for petty quarrels. I also need to tell you all exactly how much I have always valued your support, especially in this dark time. But, I won't be beaten, even if I'm down right now, there is still a battle to be won if I'm going to live longer than my father."

The kids tearfully nodded affirmation that they would get on with their respective tasks, and Elise announced that she was staying another month, and added, "Will that be long enough for me to tell you exactly how I want my room designed, Sophie?"

The huddle became four instead of three.

A New Fulcrum

Ten Days Later

Julien was contemplating the best way to 'wipe' Brandt's flight deck from the premises. One of the screens which followed current events flashed a 'breaking news' alert.

'Ivan Kolorov has been installed as Vice President of Soyuz. It is understood he will bring new impetus to the company in terms of putting the first of our species on Mars. Soyuz acknowledge that in his previous spell with us, he spoke out against compromise in safety procedures just 'to win a race'. As a mark of respect to those who perished on the VB Aerospace vessel, Kepler, this announcement was rescheduled to allow memorial services to take place and help the families of the crew to have closure. Kolorov's first interview will be broadcast later today, but we understand he has already stated that there is no chance of the planned launch date being brought forward'.

Julien repeatedly processed the events of the last few weeks and became a man possessed. The announcement was confirmation of him being victim to a highly elaborate sting.

A strange calmness engulfed him, beginning with the need to preserve the archive he'd promised to destroy. There would be another time.

# Chapter 17

Part Two: Plateau

The dreadful loss of the Kepler crew was still raw, and completely dominated the thoughts of Julien Delacroix in preparing his response to the media. He'd considered not responding at all, in his mind many of them were pitiful trolls. However, this wasn't about his personal situation, the crew had either been taken by some unexplained cosmic accident, or they had been murdered.

The request of Ivan Kolorov to get rid of all evidence in the flight deck felt like it was a key part of the sting. Eradication was out of the question. Sitting in Brandt's period dark red leather swivel chair, he twirled the business card of Cyclops between his fingers. Recalling Brandt's words – 'Now, take this card, he is the only other person who knows about our espionage activity. He set up the system and smooths out glitches every once in a while. He is only known by this reference – 'Cyclops'. It's the only way he works, and I've asked him to contact you after the launch'.

But Cyclops hadn't contacted him at all. He dialled the number on the card and heard the unobtainable tone. Why had this man not called? And why could he not be contacted now? Volker Brandt never used the words maybe or possibly if he could avoid them. Julien could only conclude this ran deeper than Ivan Kolorov. He decided to bring his son into the flight deck.

"Eugene, only a few people have had the privilege or the misfortune to see this place. I can only vouch for the ones I know about. Obviously Brandt, as he had it installed, myself, a Russian named Ivan Kolorov, a man who installed the kit, known only as Cyclops, and my Communications Director. The last mentioned burst in without approval, to tell Kolorov and myself about the blackout of contact with Kepler. It didn't seem unreasonable at such a time of emergency, but now it may have more significance than I thought it did on that fateful day. You should know that Kolorov was here to help me uncover a conspiracy. He left immediately after the disaster, and within a short time he was made Vice President of our main rivals to get to Mars, now known as NERO/Soyuz. Volker Brandt left me this card in the event that something went wrong with this snooping hub, a veritable window into the confidential stuff of all our competitors. It still works, except for NERO/Soyuz. And now, this Cyclops cannot be contacted. Just as Kolorov was leaving, he asked me to destroy the snooping hub from which he claimed to have identified a mole aboard Kepler. I don't want to involve you in this conundrum, Eugene, because it's patently a dangerous plot to wrestle with, but I do need someone I can trust to help me out. I remember you telling me about a friend you had at university, a young man with amazing abilities in the I.T. world. I have no idea how to go about making all of this hardware disappear to another location yet still retain its capability. I particularly want to preserve the data already stored on the system.

"So, I wondered if you think this pal could perform such a task, and whether he is absolutely reliable? He would have to be prepared to look the other way and then forget he ever spoke to me. I'm saying this because I fear Cyclops may have been eliminated. It's a lot to ask of you, I know, and I'd understand if you decline. I could just get on with the asteroid programme and forget about further investigation of the loss of life aboard Kepler. However, I feel that I owe them some kind of justice if they were subject to a reprisal act of terrorism against Brandt. I would like to think it wasn't, that they died accidentally, but I have no evidence to support that as yet."

Eugene's face was blank and Julien took this to mean his son was overwhelmed. Eventually, he reacted.

"I don't think it's wise to involve another person. I'm pretty I.T. literate myself. Listening to your plan, I can see a few flaws. Do you need ongoing access to the system?"

"Not right now, my priority is to keep the archive safe until I need it."

"Ok, physically moving this stuff out of here to some other location will be like advertising a Halloween party, even if you did it at night. It would be better to brick up this office and let it be known that it is defunct, and to be preserved as a 'mausoleum', dedicated to the memory of Brandt. Get it alarmed with the best gear available and then I can put it to sleep, pull the existing IP address, and we just mothball it until you need access to the drives. You said there were only a handful of people who knew about why this room was really built, and we should keep it that way. I sense that you want to check out your Communications Director. Well, if he is tied up with this Kolorov, it could be a neat way of getting him to report that the system has been neutralised, telling the guy what he wants to hear. Just a thought."

"I'm happy to confess I'm utterly naïve when it comes to dealing with these kind of people, Eugene, but I do think it's a workable idea. Can I leave it to you to organise it? And let's not bore your mother or your sister with what you're doing. They'd have me sectioned, or worse."

"Yeah, tell me about it, Sophie is already designing my room in your new house. Telling me what I want and what I don't want. Don't worry, not a word will be passed on to her or Mum. Listen, I just want to help in keeping you out of trouble. You said it yourself, these people are extremely dangerous, and the whole family could become a target. That's how they work, by creating fear. I won't go any further than what I've already suggested, because if that doesn't make them back off, we really are out of our depth. I know you want to find out what happened to your friends on the vessel, Dad, but it isn't going to bring them back. It is what it is, and the media know you'll be expected to try and find out what caused Kepler to disintegrate, but personally I'd ease off with the conspiracy stuff. I'm guessing they'll leave you alone if the perpetrators believe this snooping hub is defunct, leaving them in the clear. That will allow us to get on with preventing the asteroid from making this whole conversation pointless. Let's leave it at that, unless there comes a time when you need these archives. I want you to promise me you can let the conspiracy angle go. Dad...Dad, are you listening?"

"What? Oh, uh... yes. I can't disagree with anything you've said, but I do have to genuinely start an independent investigation into the sudden break up of Kepler."

"Sure you do, so just call it that – a thorough study of precisely what kind of natural phenomenon could have caused the disaster. You have to get these people off our backs, Dad. I'm still not sure you're getting the message. Start by involving this Communications Director in every step of the investigation. He was responsible for keeping tabs on the situation, but you only have his testimony regarding the time of the instant cessation of the link to Kepler. Leave it like that, tell the people of the world whatever he tells you. Come on, tell me I'm getting through to you, Dad. You really are as naïve as you said earlier, so take a step back, trust me or I'm out."

"Ok, ok we'll do it your way. You have my word."

*

He had arranged to face the media rather than simply put out statements, and this time Julien was alone in the hot seat. What had shifted since he stood together with Kolorov to make the announcement regarding Kepler's demise, was the reaction of the people rather than the press. World demographics showed clearly that less than forty percent were sympathetic to establishment-governed institutions, and that figure was still declining. The distrust of this faltering elitist structure, and its abuse of power did in itself threaten virtually every aspect of ordered society. The one notable exception was the asteroid programme. There simply weren't enough qualified anarchists to take it on. Julien not only wanted to preserve Brandt's reputation, but use it as a clarion call to protect VB Aerospace. He was in the process of instructing the telecommunications company inherited from his mentor to broadcast a monthly bulletin on what was happening. It was to cover the Kepler investigation, the trajectory and position of chocolate orange, and the progress on all fronts of the programme to deflect it. He wanted to convey transparency in return for trust. His sub-objective was, however, to create a truly visible desire in more than sixty percent of the population to protect the programme of avoiding extinction. He would appeal to leaders amongst the 'anarchists' to join this cause. He knew it risked being isolated from the rest of the establishment culture, in fact he hoped it would. Despite what he'd promised his son, Julien feared further interference from those who did thrive in the art of the hand deceiving the eye. Eugene's plan was a first step, but not enough in itself.

Armed with this dual strategy, he presented his case to the media, but clearly aimed it at the 'have nots' of the populous. He had taken a leaf from Brandt's book. He distanced VB Aerospace from any further attempt to reach Mars, at least until the cause of Kepler's demise was proven beyond all doubt. Patience in reaping what was sown.

# Chapter 18

2034

Under the stewardship of Kolorov, Soyuz had wrestled some of its former autonomy from the claws of NERO. With VB Aerospace out of the space race, he'd insisted that the launch of their Mars project vessel, Laika, was restored to its original date. He only needed to mention the word safety multiple times in the same sentence to quell any resistance.

The crew of six were all Russian citizens, although the first officer was born in Poland. The objectives were not clear and never discussed openly. The spectre of 2039 had taken on significantly more divisive characteristics. In the previous eighteen months, the shift to muted anarchy intensified significantly. It was also accompanied by a breakdown in the capability to produce accurate demographics. The launch of Laika was quite logically perceived as constructing a cynical escape route for the privileged few. Protests denigrating the mission as a waste of resource became ugly, and the worry, as published by the press, indicated that a total collapse of order would ensue. City centres were being inexorably transformed into burning ghettos. It was predicted to be only a matter of time before NERO and Soyuz themselves were subjected to siege warfare with the anarchists.

*

Julien Delacroix had kept his word to the general public. The broadcasts he'd promised were still running. The mausoleum was still gathering dust, having served its purpose of keeping the sharks at bay. He had spent a lot of time explaining precisely why the fate of Kepler was still a mystery, and that without new evidence, the science of probability indicated force majeure. He stopped short of closing the case, saying that someday advances in the technology for observing the Cosmos could possibly find and identify individual pieces of debris from the vessel. It was more hope than probability, but if the vessel's chronology box could be located, a recovery mission could be considered. Without being able to examine remnants of Kepler, or the box itself, an explanation of its disintegration would remain elusive. He likened it to the raising of the Titanic. The impossible could conceivably become feasible with the passage of time.

With respect to the trajectory of the asteroid, there had been no further deviation to report as yet. However, they had detected a fall in homogeneity in the structure of the beast. It was minimal but definite. Without raising expectations too much, it was seen as weakness in the cohesive nature of the rock. At the very least it could assist any last resort nuclear strike to destroy it. And this fleet of asteroid killers was on course in manufacturing terms.

*

A more 'tactile' prospect was brewing as a result of Eugene's work. He had identified a means of altering DNA to repair birth defects which caused vulnerability to a number of serious, untreatable conditions. The work was in its infancy, but the potential for fortifying the human genome in general was to receive more intensive funding. This was the kind of research the people could identify with, and Julien kept reinforcing the point by declaring he was prepared to spend a significant proportion of the money Brandt had bequeathed to him on this research. His catchphrase became – 'Money is only a resource, nothing more. Like oxygen, all Earth resources belong to all of us'.

He sensed that the time to harvest what he'd sown was approaching.

*

There had also been a change of plan with the new Delacroix residence. Sophie had become frustrated with the interminable objections from the planning department. It threatened a descent into depression again. Julien nipped it in the bud by convincing her that it was down to corruption, not her design.

"We could offer a kick-back, but is that really what you want?"

"No way, but I don't want what they insist on either. Any other ideas?"

"I'm sure Eugene has talked to you about his research, Sophie. I want to fund this work as much as possible while we still have time. Now, has he mentioned how his findings could help you?"

"A bit, but it's all over my head. Sounds spooky too. Anyway, why don't you like me the way I am?"

"Don't be so touchy. You know fine well that you have difficulty dealing with the wobbles when they come thick and fast, so, get it into your head – it isn't your fault. Sometimes people are born with miscopied genes. If they were born with one hand they wouldn't hesitate to ask for a prosthetic. These miscopied genes can affect our mental processes as well as physical attributes. Eugene is certain now that personality traits can be shaped from the same mechanisms. Of course we like you the way you are, that's why he wants to help you. Because that other Miss Angry can become a bit tiresome, even you don't like that person."

"Still sounds spooky to me. It's really deep stuff. Anyway, what's it got to do with the house plans? This is now, you and Eugene are talking whenever."

"Well, I've thought about this a hell of a lot. I like the idea of ploughing all the money Brandt left me into really good causes. I want you to think about designing a brand new research facility for Eugene. It needs to be for the highly confidential stuff. I want to protect his findings by separating this building from the laboratory in which the ground work is done. We can find a more modest plot of land for you to indulge your house design ideas. The planning authority won't be so fussy when it's in your own name, an arty young girl, rather than the daughter of a rich man from whom they think they can extort bribes."

He knew that this socially-minded proposal would appeal to his daughter. She smiled and asked if she could choose the plot for the new house.

*

Laika, unlike Kepler, appeared to have perfect correlation with Soyuz mission control, and was precisely on schedule for Mars orbit insertion. Kolorov made his first direct announcement to the media.

"I am delighted to report that Laika will soon be in a position to begin preparations for landing on Mars. I can also reveal future plans in which Soyuz and NERO will participate. However, I would like to begin with a different topic. On its journey, Laika was tasked with scanning continuously in the region where Kepler tragically met its fate. It was a long shot, and it proved to be of no real help in explaining what happened. No debris was encountered, not a single piece of evidence from the vessel. We can only conclude that some catastrophic event occurred. Either a collision or a total system failure. I would like to think this allows the families of the crew to have partial closure with respect to their loved ones. I will now proceed to the next steps for Laika. A habitat module and three of the crew will descend to the surface of Mars. Depending on what information our scientists find in terms of how we can sustain life on the planet, they will either stay or return to Laika. If they stay, the remaining crew will return to Earth at an appropriate departure time and further announcements will be made. Thank you for your patience."

Like the curate's egg, the speech had a chequered reception. The scanning for pieces of Kepler and finding nothing merely confirmed what everyone expected. But, the brief outline of potentially leaving half of the crew on Mars spiked a feeling that something was being held back. No information was forthcoming about precisely when the surface team would return, or why they might stay if Laika was to head back without them.

*

The Mercedes pulled into the crescent-shaped drive of the Concorde Hotel in the outskirts of Lyon. It was poorly lit and bordered by tall cypress trees. Two burly bodyguards got out and surveyed the scene with practised efficiency, before opening the rear passenger side door. Henry Fellowes stepped out and the heavies waved the driver toward the exit to the main road. Another car, a stretch limo, suddenly barrelled out of the main car park and the windows slid down. Kalashnikov muzzles protruded into the darkness. Multiple rounds of fire converged to take down Fellowes and his two minders. The limo had barely slowed to discharge the weapons and it hurtled after the departing Mercedes. The brief chase ended with the driver being dispatched with a second hail of bullets. His vehicle careered off the road into a coffee shop full of people. The limo screamed off into the night without anyone noting the licence plate number; it didn't have any on display. It was found a few minutes later, in three feet of river water. Police arrived late, quoting excuses such as investigating mundane burglaries. In truth, had it not been for the celebrity of Henry Fellowes, the flyby shooting wouldn't even have made page ten of any newspaper.

Such was the tide of anarchism that local police would be happy to concede jurisdiction on this one to the spooks. The burglaries were probably a cover for more lucrative investigations, which were the real priority for the local plods.

Belatedly, winching the limo from the river confirmed that it had no plates, the chassis number and other identifying data had been filed off. The interior had been filled with concentrated bleach foam, thus negating any DNA recovery.

# Chapter 19

The death of Henry Fellowes was an opportunity not to be missed. Ivan Kolorov had been courting certain Russian oligarchs over the last couple of years. He had always wanted to shake off the shackles of NERO, but inward investment was continually blocked by Fellowes.

Now that the main roadblock was gone, the nine richest oligarchs were open to independent financial evidence that the two companies could enter into amicable divorce. At the heart of Kolorov's sales pitch was the realistic chances of VB Aerospace defecting the asteroid. He insisted that it was a case of hit and hope, rather than a scientific probability which Julien Delacroix was offering. Addressing these obscenely wealthy people in a remote location, buried deep in the Ural mountain range, he rolled out his cohesive campaign of fear and opportunity.

"Gentlemen, unless there is clear and absolute proof that we will survive five years from now, there is only one option left. Leave. I wish I could find more confidence in the work of Delacroix, but to be brutally honest, just listen to his broadcasts to the world. It is all observation. Telling us that the asteroid is showing no deviation from its expected trajectory is put across as being good news. The only preparation which is progressing satisfactorily is the construction of swarms of nuclear warheads. But we are never told exactly when they will be despatched, where they will strike the marauder, or even where the launch silos are. I am offering you two interconnected sub options. First, we urgently build our own battery of nuclear strike force missiles, which we send out as soon as it makes sense. We have to know with some urgency if we can hit this asteroid, and whether it can be dislodged from its impact course. We need to test this out a long way from our planet. Even if we are able to avoid a mass extinction event, it could spawn a far less favourable survival environment. However, if we do indeed survive, but society is so badly impaired that we face apocalypse, your wealth and your offspring will be eliminated by one rebel faction or another. So, its extinction or execution unless we completely destroy the asteroid. We must have another fall back option. In the past two years, I have been working on a Noah's Ark plan. As soon as we have results from the Mars surface crew of Laika, we can decide whether it is time to launch vessels to Mars on a regular basis. Please do not doubt the need for one launch every three months, until we are sure we have sufficient, acceptable habitat capability for you and your families. We must look at this as an insurance premium, and the outgoing vessels will require crew and passengers of up to twenty people, plus stockpiles of supplies. These ships will act as shuttle freighters. Only the requisite number will descend to press on with building habitats, the rest will return with the empty vessels for re-supply. As you will no doubt have pondered whether your family lineage will end in 2039, so might that of the entire species. Time is cruelly short, procrastination will soon cut off the choice I'm offering. I therefore ask you to contemplate risking your entire wealth to engage with both plans. If we manage to neutralise the asteroid, Soyuz, by then owned by you, will become ever-stronger. If we fail in this task, your wealth becomes irrelevant unless there is an alternative avenue of escape. I strenuously advocate that Laika holds the key to turning that hope into survival for the brave. If the vessel Kepler had not been lost we would know more, but then there would have been some kind of lottery as to who would be chosen to escape to Mars. I am persuaded that none of you would have been selected. The anarchists would have seen to that. I will now leave you to reflect on what I have said. Whether or not you join me, Soyuz will send as many vessels as possible to Mars after Laika's return, but without your participation, I fear that will only be one per year, so five in total at most. To summarise, your investment in making Soyuz your future will either bring financial reward, or guarantee your family a trip to Mars City. Step one is to acquire Soyuz and ditch NERO."

He left a stunned audience, saying that the entire proposal must stay within the four walls. The oligarchs needed no persuading on that point, as they were already on the radar and receiving end of anarchist terrorism.

*

Sophie's unstinting devotion to the new research complex had left the new Delacroix house plans on the back burner in all but conceptual design. Her ability to take Eugene's functional specification and overlay her artistic vision resulted in a workplace of outstanding ambience. It managed to combine purpose with recreational diversity. The new workforce which Eugene was continually expanding admitted that the environment was in no small way a factor in wanting to join the mission of reinforcing the human genome.

Already significant breakthrough had been made in making adjustments in correcting rogue genes responsible for a number of life-threatening conditions. Put in layman's terms the team had delivered success in snipping out undesirable parts of the genetic ladder and stitching the loose ends back together. The next crucial step was to evaluate inserts of different kinds between the two loose ends.

*

Sophie had decided that the new family house could be likened to a bicycle wheel in overall shape. A central hub for common activity, such as cooking, eating, keeping fit, and reading. The four spokes would follow the look of a compass, facing north, east, south and west. Each would reach out from the hub to the wheel rim. There would be one spoke for each of them to customise their living quarters. Space for contemplation, washing, dressing and sleeping. Looking down on the wheel from the sky would reveal two interconnecting sections. The central hub was to have a domed roof. The roof of the spokes were to be hemispherical, running from the hub to the rim. The northeast rim connection was for Eugene and Sophie, and the southwest for Julien and maybe one day, Elise. This left the southeast and the northwest spaces to be sculptured gardens, the part Sophie really wanted to bring to life with statues and mosaics.

*

Laika achieved Mars capture without incident, and preparations for descent were underway. The crew was jubilant and those charged with evaluating the surface of Mars were fired up, contemplating the future posterity of being the first of the species to set foot on another world, one which was classified as a true planet. It seemed a fitting tribute to the first man, also a Russian, acknowledged to be the first human in space - Yuri Gagarin. The remaining crew members in orbit were simply impatient to begin collecting data for secret prescribed objectives before any date could even be considered for their return journey. This sequence could only begin after the 'all clear' from the descent module, a signal that the exploration group had landed, with both personnel and equipment unimpaired, and were ready to begin their analysis of mankind's challenge in colonising the planetary body.

*

After hours of debate amongst themselves Kolorov was now able to reconvene with the oligarchs. It was 'make your mind up time' and he was asked to outline his plans for the acquisition of Soyuz stock, and more importantly, exactly how the authority for appropriating funds to the nuclear strike programme and the colonisation would not be traced back to them. They had many enemies, including the wounded Russian Intelligence Agency.

*

Julien Delacroix had given quite a lot of thought to exactly who would benefit most from the death of Henry Fellowes. A professional hit like that would have been orchestrated by some person or group needing to distance themselves from the killing of such a well-known figure. Or perhaps it was the work of the new para-military anarchists. Most of their targets were government personnel, but there had been a distinct rise in anger at the money spent on getting to Mars, and a clamour to divert more exchequer funds to protecting the masses, in the event of the asteroid defying everything humanity could throw at it. The anarchists weren't interested in listening to arguments that their own actions were undermining social order, and had been the primary cause of government coffers shrinking to an all-time low. There was no doubt that the establishments all over the world were creaking under the seizure of industrial companies by these rebel groups, and subsequently converting the local militia to their cause by threatening to wipe them out. But, regardless of which way Julien ran this through his mind, he wasn't convinced that Fellowes' murder was carried out by the tentacles of anarchy. Primarily because they tended to claim responsibility for anything they brought down, using it as propaganda.

*

Kolorov wanted Oleg Malenkov do the talking. Unknown to the other oligarchs, it was Malenkov who had actually instigated the idea for Soyuz to sever its tenuous connection with NERO. Kolorov had been thinking along the same lines, and was a ready listener. They also agreed it would be wise for nobody else to know the two of them had discussed this prior to Kolorov inviting the others to meet. As the host, the Soyuz supremo rose to his feet.

"I could suggest several ways of getting the ball rolling, but I am a man who specialises in propulsion engineering, so I would suggest any one of you would be better placed than myself to suggest the kind of investment and drawdown facilities which would satisfy the entire group. I can easily deal with breaking away from NERO, in fact I can do that whenever we have the rest in place. On the matter of anonymity, I also bow to your experience, in exactly the same way I would if there was any 'obstruction' you felt would require removal. Would anyone like to comment?"

Malenkov raised his hand and took the floor, and made sure it did not look like a rehearsal.

"I am mainly concerned about protecting my family in the short term. However, I suggest we avoid trying to be too clever with respect to where and how we make the investment. This anarchy movement worries me with respect to certain banks in terms of indiscretion. We have seen how the terrorists accrete assets. Manufacturing units and law enforcement people are just the beginning. The way I see it, during the remaining time we oligarchs have to survive, we must gradually become invisible. I would suggest there is no truly safe way to continue to grow our businesses. And nobody in their right mind would want to take over our burdens by acquisition, otherwise we would not be sitting here today. I will be closing down a few of my operations and bank the liquidity in Switzerland. I will repeat this periodically until I have written off as much as I can afford to withstand. I am sure the anarchists will see this as justification of their cause and maybe they will seize the hardware which has been abandoned. We have to buy time, which correlates to safety. In the meantime, more 'would be' leaders of their movement will appear above the parapet. They can be picked off one at a time, and we are all proficient in this methodology. My anonymous Swiss account would only allow withdrawals by myself. At the times when Soyuz needs a top up of funds, they should also have an anonymous account with the same bank, to which we can make a transfer without a paper trail. It would be similar to a withdrawal, signed only by me. Kolorov then becomes accountable for what that amount will achieve. If all of us have similar accounts we can use one bank to move the projects further along the desired route. The transferred money to the Soyuz Swiss account should be for purchase of shares in the company itself. So, Kolorov has to set up this exchange. I know this will mean I have to give up a hell of a lot of wealth this way, but we cannot trust offshore banks in places like the Cayman Islands, and we have to become low profile people again. Once this is achieved, we either sit out the rest of our time with lesser ambitions, or we head off to Mars if we are confronted with reliable information that the asteroid is going to win. If we do not recognise our current assets as a burden and a threat in this unravelling society, we will surely become victims of it. Even if I am the only one of us to move in this direction, I will do so. I still have enough collateral to acquire a large slice of Soyuz."

Malenkov sat down. Nobody spoke until Kolorov suggested he should leave the room again while the rest debated what to do next. Even from the next room he could hear raised voices and banging on the large oak table. It was going to take quite some time for balance to be struck; the air was laden with fear of jumping in or fear of missing out.

# Chapter 20

Julien was rather surprised to hear Geraldine's voice when he answered his phone. She never called him directly, always through his wife.

"Hello, hello, is that you, Julien?"

"Yes it is, Geraldine. You sound a little bit apprehensive, is there a problem?"

"I am afraid there is. Elise is in hospital. It is not an accident or anything like that. She has a problem with her kidneys."

"Ok, Geraldine, just calm down, please. Exactly what kind of problem?"

"Well, she has had a couple of fainting spells recently. I pestered her to see the doctor, and although she said she would, I had to get the doctor to come here. He found that she has had bouts of kidney failure. He says she will need a transplant soon. She is on dialysis at the moment, but the problem is becoming more acute. I thought you should know because she now seems to take no notice of anything I say, she only listens to this new friend of hers. She doesn't seem to grasp that the doctor is telling her she has a very serious problem. Julien, you have always been so good to me, so I feel I can say this. I don't trust this man. He only became really interested in her after you inherited all of that money. She will not say a word against him, but I have to be honest, I have a bad feeling about him. He wants to marry her. Elise doesn't want that, but he won't stop asking her, even though she's so poorly. Can you come to Lyon, please? She is getting weaker instead of stronger, and I am very worried about her, as is our doctor."

"Ok, Geraldine, now first of all, don't think you are alone with this. I'll get a flight tomorrow. Don't tell anyone I'm coming, I want to meet this man after I've seen Elise. Thank you for getting in touch. Leave it to me to tell the kids."

"Yes, of course, and thank you so much, I'll stay with her until you get here."

*

The descent to the surface of Mars was something of a white knuckle ride. Not having an atmosphere to slow the module, or generate such intense heat as an Earth entry would, gave the illusion of being in a Bobsleigh with no brakes. A silent runaway vehicle destined to break up after a hard landing. At last, with the red dust approaching at an insane speed, the burn kicked in and began to transform the free-fall into a glide, followed by a gentle bump. The three scientists aboard thanked their counterparts on the orbiting Laika for guiding them safely to such a moment of destiny. They had already agreed to a simultaneous first step on to the orange-red carpet.

The television pictures relayed back to Earth, showing the first of the species to leave their footprints on another ancient planet strangely produced a nanosecond of unity. Explorers had always been respected for their bravery. That it registered as such with the anarchists was but a flicker of homogeneity. Even before they'd heard a word of the commentary, coordinated explosive devices were detonated in or around several major cities of the world.

*

A second meeting had been arranged with the oligarchs to officially distribute the share certificates, giving them their respective amounts of equity in Soyuz. This formal gathering was at the Dacha of Malenkov, in the countryside just outside Moscow. While the ceremonial trappings were being orchestrated by Kolorov, Malenkov was busy getting the others to sign a side agreement with the Swiss bank that the certificates would be lodged with them for safekeeping. They had all agreed that in the event of some disaster, either cosmic or anarchic, any individual's shares would pass on to the rest of the group. They had all made provision for their families separately, and didn't want wives, sons, and daughters to become targets for the anarchists simply because of inherited ownership in a controversial blue chip company. The meeting was brought to an end with the agreement to meet once more in the Ural Mountains. The venue was the same secret location as before, for a thorough update of when the destructive nuclear warheads were to be launched at the asteroid, and more importantly, precisely where the strikes would take place. This was not a subject for discussion in a place where there was the slightest possibility of bugs having been planted. Malenkov outlined his reasoning.

"Gentlemen, we shall take all precautions to keep our business private. You all know where we first met, and this note I am about to hand to you details the questions to be raised by us as a group, and the answers to those questions will be provided by our friend at the head of the table. With the escalating spread of terror groups, we should no longer mention anyone's name, unless we know we are not at risk of eavesdropping by anarchists or what remains of government control. Thank you for your time, and please help yourself to Vodka and Caviar."

*

With the habitat and lab facilities secured, the scientists gave the all clear to their colleagues in orbit. Laika's mission had passed the first meaningful test. However, the establishment of a base was but a single task in a long list of those scheduled prior to any consideration of returning to Earth. Because the planets were closest to one another every two years, and the journey would take nine months, Soyuz had to make a compromise call regarding distance, fuel, time in space for the astronauts, and the crossing points with the next shuttle. However, they had come down on the side of keeping those on Mars alive as the highest priority. Laika had enough nuclear fuel generating capability to make a one year return trip. The next outgoing craft from Earth, already named Yuri, would launch when Laika was seven months from Earth. Yuri would have only three crew, and more than four times as much survival commodities as Laika. These adjustments had been made because of the initial reports from the surface of Mars, in particular, the discovery of both water ice and liquid carbon dioxide in scattered sinkholes. Stage two of departure clearance was related to the wellbeing coefficients of the surface dwellers. A clean bill of health after a minimum of six weeks was considered necessary before those on board Laika could submit a request to exit orbit. It would be a tense period of doing very little but observation, of both a scientific and medical nature, plus the creation of a map of interesting alternative sites for the future. Locations which weren't too far from the first touchdown in Valles Marineris.

*

A peculiar trend was emerging in society, which in retrospect appeared to be quite logical. With the five-year death threat still hanging in the air, the rebellious, terror-fuelled, bottom-up rejection of authority, spawned two inevitable trends which conspired to turn the divide from one of a perpetually stretching _elastic_ membrane, turning it into a stiff _plastic_ barrier, which would inevitably reach a threshold of fracture. As the government and industrial world suffered escalating attacks, destroying lives, institutions and buildings, so the rise of coordinated anarchy lurched to new levels of brutality. The consequent shrinkage of established fiscal controls pushed the transition from monetary notes ever more quickly to electronic-only trading. When this filtered down to smaller and smaller businesses, the rate of bankruptcy spiralled, and a siege mentality within large corporations essentially killed off competitiveness. This was most sharply illustrated by banks and other related financial services, which then cascaded down to availability of life's essentials. If you didn't have a plastic friend with ample funds, you effectively didn't have any money or bargaining power. No means to see beyond the next sunrise – and crucially, little or no recourse to escape the transition to stealing just to survive. Ironically, this mudslide of closure of traditional production output for mass markets raised the floodwaters of demand on those who had advocated revolution.

During this phase, infighting and disillusionment led to rapid growth of Anarchist Barons, creating a massive surge in turf war, which became pandemic, and devoid of even the basic infrastructure with which to fashion a cure. Without either banknotes or electronic trading, direct exchange of goods was the only currency. However, with barter came plunder, and a definite slowdown in perceived equality of anarchic doctrine, which had been its raison d'etre. The process had in fact already begun to evidence big fish swallowing slightly smaller fish, and the corollary of becoming blind to the founding objective.

There was now a chasm of irreparable dimension in the time left before it would be the asteroid alone which would decide the outcome. An uneven, three-way contest between oligarchs, mafia, and cosmic indifference. The final reckoning, whichever persuasion one might admit to, would lay the ghost to rest that in reality, there was no such thing as money. Life, food, water, chemicals, technology, were all that really mattered, unless a person's faith in the afterlife prevailed.

*

When Julien and Geraldine arrived at the hospital, Elise had a visitor. Bernard Denis, her friend, was holding her hand. Geraldine turned to leave the private room in intensive care, but Julien asked her to stop.

"No, Geraldine, I want to speak with this gentleman outside. Please stay with Elise while we find a quiet place to discuss the situation."

"Yes, of course I will, Julien." Geraldine brushed past the visitor without exchanging a word. Denis rose from his bedside seat and began to protest.

"I have no intention of..."

Julien walked out of the room. It took a full two minutes for Denis to follow.

"I gather your name is Bernard. I want to keep this as civil as possible so let's find a table in the café."

"Who the hell do you think you are? Giving orders to people you have never met, in a place of compassion. I had heard you were a difficult man, I can now see that for myself. I am going back to sit with Elise."

Julien grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close, whispering into his face.

"Listen, you stupid bastard, this is about Elise's welfare, not you sitting holding her hand. I have access to the best medical care on the planet. You have a hand for her to cling to, nothing more. I assumed we both want the best for her, so knock off the boyfriend attitude and get to grips with the seriousness of the situation. You know fine well that virtually all public services have collapsed and the only exception is health centres, as they are now called. They only survived because they went private. You can only get treatment if you have a plastic debit card with guaranteed funds, and you pay before treatment is authorised. How much have you paid for Elise so far? Nothing? I thought so. How much will you pay from now? Nothing? I thought so. Elise has paid for her own treatment with funds I transferred to her."

Denis tried to interrupt.

"Let go of me, I will report..."

"I'm not finished explaining what is going to happen, do what you like after that. Now, I spoke with our son, who, like myself, has contacts with the top people in the medical world. He, his sister, Geraldine, and myself, need to be checked as suitable kidney donors for Elise. Can I put you on that list?"

"Well...well of course I am probably...uh... too old, but yes, I suppose."

"Fine, I think I got that. Now, hospitals such as this have lost their leverage on organ donation. It's a sad fact, but I'm afraid it is what it is. People needing transplants are in an auction from day one. She could wait for months to even get on the list for a random kidney to be available if she stays here. I am going to tell Elise that my son has spoken to a prominent surgeon in Boston about her condition, and her medical notes have been sent to this woman. We even have to pay to be tested in our new society, so you'll excuse me if I think you haven't totally convinced me of your intentions to give Elise the best chance of recovery. I've got a private jet waiting to take her to Boston. There is room for you if you're serious about being a donor. Now, let's cut the crap and speak with Elise from the same page. If you can't do that, just get the hell out of my face while I get things moving."

Denis became furtive and excused himself to use the men's room. Julien rushed back to Elise's room and explained the situation to both women. Elise's voice was very weak but she offered no resistance as the tears began to flow. Julien had made the hospital staff aware of the plan before he had boarded the flight from Guiana, but asked them not to worry his wife with the decision until he arrived to tell her in person. Geraldine stood up and hugged him tightly, not wanting to relent until she stopped shaking. Julien made the call to Eugene, telling him that everything was sorted, and asked if he could inform the surgeon in Boston. He would communicate directly with her just before they were airborne.

# Chapter 21

The whole family met up in Boston after a tiring journey for Elise. They were introduced to Dr Marion Westley and she explained the order of events. Elise was admitted to a private room and the others followed the surgeon to her office.

"I've studied Elise's records from Lyon, and I agree that she needs a kidney transplant. The efficiency of her left-side renal processing is very low, and that's a serious problem. Although it can be alleviated by dialysis, that treatment is required more frequently than I'd like it to be. Her right kidney is not too bad right now but shows signs of the same symptoms. If we can replace the left one satisfactorily I can review how this will affect her overall dependency on dialysis in the short and longer term. So, I've arranged for all of you to be screened as potential donors. I'm afraid there aren't any matches on our database at present. Julien, I think you should be checked last, not being a blood relative. Geraldine, perhaps you should wait until Eugene and Sophie have been checked as your age and DNA lineage may have the same potential weakness as your sister. Eugene, you and Sophie can get ready to be assessed, as we need to know if either of you are suitable donors. There is no time to lose; it seems your mother has been suffering deterioration in kidney function for some time now, and I'm surprised that this was not picked up at least a couple of years ago. Let's get started then, and if we find either of you can help your mother, I'll go through all of the stuff you need to know about how kidney donation might affect your own life. Julien, you and Geraldine can either wait with Elise while we get her settled, or get some sleep while we get on with the tests."

As exhausted as they were, Geraldine said she wouldn't be able to sleep and preferred to have more caffeine until they could be told how the tests on the kids had gone.

*

Julien was becoming fidgety. Geraldine kept insisting that Bernard Denis was a leech, and was worried about his intentions toward her sister, especially if he kept on pushing Elise to marry him.

"You know, Julien, she already approached you about a divorce, but that was him, she didn't feel right about it."

"I hear you, but that's all for another time. I can't concentrate on anything other than getting Elise a new kidney at the moment. I just hope either Eugene or Sophie can help her. She could have one of mine tomorrow, if it was approved by Dr Westley."

Geraldine echoed his sentiment just as Julien saw people gathering around the coffee shop TV. He pushed through to the front and couldn't believe what he was seeing. Waves of Soyuz missiles headed skywards. The commentary was in Russian, and into focus came Ivan Kolorov. The penny dropped immediately. Soyuz had only acknowledged the need for a scoop because they could never have launched such a cluster of warheads without them being picked up by multiple observers. They couldn't allow speculation that it was a strike against the west, hence the detailed explanation of where and when this expeditionary arsenal would take out the asteroid. It was being marketed ruthlessly; as Soyuz simply not being prepared to rely upon good fortune any longer in dealing with the threat. Kolorov referred to the VB Aerospace project as 'gambling by pretending they had proven it was essential to wait to play pinball deeper within the solar system'.

"Their strategy could have many undesirable effects, including destabilising the orbits of other solar bodies which could negate the primary objective. We have taken a bold step and invested considerable resource to eliminate the threat as soon as we could assemble the means to do so. More details will be forthcoming in the next few days."

Julien knew that he would be hounded by the media to answer Kolorov's claims. He had enjoyed unwavering support from the populous, but this was a direct attack on him, aimed at eroding that trust. He didn't want to be stampeded into a premature riposte, preferring to wait until Kolorov honoured his promise of more details being released in the coming days.

*

Dr Westley had good news and bad news. The tests had shown both Eugene and Sophie were acceptable donors.

"I've studied the test data thoroughly and I have only one major concern. Although both profiles would certainly extend Elise's life and get her off dialysis relatively quickly, Sophie would be the better choice. I'm afraid Eugene has markers which indicate he may suffer from his mother's condition later in life. That is by no means certain, but it seems like an unnecessary risk, if he did end up with such a problem while he was relying on a single kidney."

Eugene and Sophie excused themselves from the rest of the gathering to mull over the situation.

"Sophie, I didn't want to say the wrong thing in there, but what about your addiction?"

"That's in the past, Gene. I'm clean, you know that."

"Of course, but if you fall off the wagon with one kidney it could be you who ends up in a box. History tells us that many people can't kick the habit permanently. It's the same with alcohol."

"So why would Westley say I was the better choice? She knows my history."

"Well, that's another thing, maybe the results got mixed up, it does happen."

"What the hell has got into you, brother? Hello! She wouldn't have said you might have problems in years ahead without checking. Anyway, none of us might have years ahead...oh, now I get it. That's why you're spouting the bullshit. You think none of this will matter by 2039, we'll all be grains of dust. Listen, I know how hard you're working to find a way to help me with your 'gene farm' stuff, but for once in our lives, let me be the one who gets the plaudits for being unselfish. Your shiny halo can stand just one tiny hit. I'm not going to move on this, Gene-genie, so let's tell the Doc we're good to go."

"I still think..."

"No you don't, we're done here."

*

Julien was still reeling from the Soyuz launch of their battery of nuclear warheads, when a second news item caught his eye. The headline said it all for him.

' _Carnage as Russian Oligarchs are assassinated in remote location in the Ural Mountains.'_

It was followed by a photoshoot of an oligarch whose life had been saved by his train being late arriving at its destination. He spoke unsteadily, despite his good fortune, and condemned the perpetrators who had planted the explosive devices. The hotel had been levelled to the ground, killing forty-eight staff and guests, in addition to the oligarchs. Julien recognised the man who was consoling the surviving oligarch. It was Ivan Kolorov.

*

Sophie didn't want her father or brother to be with her when she was being prepped for losing her kidney. She had a tearful conversation with her mother before going under general anaesthetic. Her focus was on catching up on the family house, now that Elise would need to recuperate before deciding her future, if she had a future. Having convinced herself of this, Sophie couldn't help thinking about the illogicality of having an operation to make oneself less healthy than before the procedure. When she recovered consciousness, a surreal world beckoned. One in which she had 'hallucinatory' images, all of which she wanted to paint. She was uncomfortable, even with the morphine drip, and found it difficult to concentrate on the post-op reassurances of its success, and what would happen next. She was barely aware of Julien and Eugene at her bedside, despite their relief that she'd suffered no complications. She waved her acknowledgement of whatever they said, and gradually drifted back to sleep, seeing only vivid colours and unique shapes.

*

Far away from the maelstrom playing out in the brain of Julien Delacroix, the Martians had hit a setback, but one which was not entirely unexpected. The happenchance euphoric discovery of water ice and liquid carbon dioxide was more than a little offset by the disappointing analysis of over one hundred 'soil' samples. Above ground, underground, split rocks, black dust, red dust, dust containing sparklers, and dust apparently emitting static electricity - no evidence could be found that any of it could support plant life. It was simply spent geologic matter. This prompted the decision for Laika to request an earlier return. The surface crew were all in good health and they requested urgent acquisition of advanced hydroponic units from Earth. They needed to establish an experimental bridgehead of flora propagation with as many consumable species as possible, in the shortest realistic timeframe. Kolorov had a dilemma. He'd gambled on indigenous Martian 'greenhouse' facility being up and running before the nuclear strike force confronted its target. Remote analytical data had been misleading at best. He asked the surface team to be absolutely precise about the area from which their entire collection of samples had been taken.

His real concern was exactly how to deliver the news to the orbiting Laika crew. They hadn't been told about the launch of the nuclear strike force. He now had to reveal the real reason for the complex monitoring equipment on board the vessel. The crew had been told it was simply charting technology, a kind of space cartography, already set up for extremely high definition observation. Kolorov was now answerable to one shareholder only, Malenkov. The oligarch had issued instructions to track the nuclear fleet as close as possible to the planned strike coordinates with the asteroid. Those coordinates were yet to be disclosed, and the fuel capability of Laika factored in to the equation. Kolorov had been told by Malenkov that the lives of billions of people on Earth outweighed a few people on Mars, and the same number in a space vessel.

"Ivan, we have to prioritise. If Laika can report success with the strike, everything changes here on Earth. If the warheads fail we have to revise our plans once more. Laika has sufficient thrust capability to get back to Mars, and we then launch another supply vessel to get on with the job of creating a bridgehead to colonisation. You know it makes sense, there would be no point in Laika returning home to a bankrupt Soyuz. If we don't knockout the asteroid, we won't have the resource or time for a second shot, which means that VB Aerospace will have the only realistic means of averting disaster, even if they continue to procrastinate over their own strike. If that happens, I want to go to Mars with my family before they launch their diversion force, because that might be the last train out of town. If we don't push this damned asteroid off course, why would I think they can? I need to know the outcome of our nuclear fleet's clash with the asteroid before any observatory or anyone else on Earth. Just do it, Ivan."

# Chapter 22

When Kolorov sent the captain of Laika details of the new plan, there was disbelief, which was quickly followed by anger, and finally a flat refusal to comply.

Amelie Kuznetsov discussed the situation with the other two crew members on board, Polish-born first officer Pavel Lot, and engineer Roman Dimitrov. At first, they were simply perplexed by the content of the transmission, and then they realised that if Soyuz did not send another vessel to Mars immediately, the instruction to leave orbit and track the missile fleet would effectively become a death sentence for themselves and the scientists on the surface of Mars. It was plainly a sacrifice dressed up as a duty of martyrdom. When Kolorov responded to their refusal to comply, he tried to talk up the deteriorating situation back on Earth. The crew knew nothing of Soyuz being wholly owned by one oligarch. He erred in trying to explain this to Kuznetzov, and the exchanges became extremely hostile. The crew was absolutely dedicated to the Mars programme, and had accepted there was a distinct possibility they would forfeit their lives, but this sudden change of plan grated with such dedication. It was merely a self-serving order from one man. Kolorov then compounded his first error of judgement when he reminded Amelie Kuznetsov exactly how ruthless people like Malenkov could be.

"It is not only me who will face elimination, you and your crew have families, and unless you want to put their lives at risk, you simply have to do this."

The scientists on the surface of Mars were informed of the new edict and accompanying threat if the orbiting crew refused to carry out the task. After a long discussion they supported their captain's decision to ignore the order to track the missiles. Captain Kuznetsov authorised the scientists to prepare to return to orbit. She then sent Kolorov the message he desperately wanted to receive.

'After considerable debate, and taking into account our families, we acknowledge that Mars has become very much a secondary objective. We will follow the missiles until we have to turn back due to energy and life support constraints. We would like you to confirm that a rescue vessel will be on standby to bring us home in the event of such difficulties. Please transmit the date when this can be ready. If we comply with this new objective we must now prepare for bringing the scientists on Mars back to Laika'.

Kolorov breathed a sigh of relief and forwarded the transmission to Malenkov. It partially placated the oligarch, who'd been continually pressing Kolorov for information, and the 'storm' subsided. Meanwhile, with the scientists aboard, Amelie Kuznetzov gave the order to return to Earth without delay.

*

Sophie's rate of recovery was, as expected, quicker than that of her mother. She had been moved to the same room as Elise. The surgeon had already told both patients what they could and could not do in the next few days. The prognosis for Elise was quite positive. The procedure had gone well and there were no signs of an adverse reaction as yet. It would be a while before the anti-rejection regime could be finessed. Sophie's medical stats were very encouraging and her time in hospital would be much shorter than that of Elise.

Julien and Geraldine arrived with the usual flowers and grapes, forgetting that both patients were on a controlled diet. Sophie was busy lecturing her mother about the new house design, and repeatedly suggesting that she should consider staying in Guiana. Elise was tired and such stress was ill-advised, so Julien asked his daughter to ease off until Elise was feeling better. Geraldine smiled through the tears and made a declaration.

"Elise, we can discuss this later, as Julien has just said, but if it makes your decision any easier, I will come and live here too. I know I said I wouldn't, but with this damned asteroid thing, and your narrow escape – made possible because of Sophie's bravery, I want to spend whatever time I've got left with all of my remaining family. We don't have to speak about it again until you are ready."

Julien closed the subject by saying if that's what Elise wanted, he would give Geraldine a slice of the plot and build her a bespoke cottage. Elise, despite her weakness, nodded her approval, saying she wished Eugene could have been there. Sophie reminded her that he was very much like his father, a slave to his passion, and wouldn't mind being told by text.

*

It didn't take long for Kolorov to query the course set by Amelie Kuznetsov.

'Your link up coordinates to the missiles were quite explicit. Why have you deviated from the plan?'

She'd already anticipated such a reprimand.

'On studying your coordinates more carefully we noticed that the intercept course would consume more fuel than necessary. And, as we are the ones who have to make it back to Mars orbit, we ran several computer simulations and realised that there was a more fuel-efficient observation trajectory. The missile fleet heading is not that much different from the Mars-Earth path at present. The divergence from that trajectory will increase, so we chose to mirror that divergence, but coming from the opposite direction. It will take a little longer to get within observation range for the fleet, but what does that matter? It is still a long way from the asteroid, and our fuel savings may allow us to shadow the fleet for longer than your plan would permit. If you don't concur, we will alter course'.

Kolorov digested this and felt he needed to speak with Malenkov, feeling sure the oligarch would agree to Kuznetsov's suggestion. He set up a meeting.

"Would you like me to come to your Dacha?"

"No, as I've said many times, that is only for giving any eavesdroppers sanitised information. We should meet at my favourite restaurant in Moscow. I'll reserve a quiet booth so we can be undisturbed. Be there at seven sharp."

*

Eugene had been forced to take the reins from Sophie for the new research wing. It was in truth a matter of bullying building contractors and scientific equipment suppliers on a daily basis. In Guiana it was the only way to get things done and Eugene was more calculating than his sister when it came down to the bluffing game. Sophie admitted that she would have cracked by now, and offered her congratulations to Eugene, albeit grudgingly. The complex was taking shape and Julien decided to throw more capital at the project to recruit a facilitator, whose remit was to complete the wing ahead of schedule. This person would earn a heavily incentivised bonus even to get the building back on schedule again. Somehow, Elise's recovery having at last picked up pace made the other family members more tolerant of each other's little foibles. They were pulling together on all fronts for the first time in a long while. The primary patient was almost ready to enter a short regimen of zero dialysis to evaluate the true measure of the new kidney's capability.

*

When Kolorov arrived at the Moscow restaurant, Malenkov was already halfway through a bottle of expensive red wine.

"Tell me more about this insubordination of our infuriating Captain Kuznetsov. Do you trust her?"

"I was suspicious at first, but she has a point when she explained her proposal more fully. She can give us more observational time of the missiles by applying the curved trajectory. It was an oversight on my part."

"How did you let that happen? Just tell me in plain language, do not blind me with science."

Malenkov still seemed suspicious, as anticipated by Kolorov, who decided to bend cosmic rules to make his case for the delay in picking up and tracking the warheads.

"The asteroid is travelling at circa 40,000 miles per hour, or 64,000 kilometres per hour. We initially wanted to strike it inside the asteroid belt itself, which separates Mars and Jupiter. However, as you are well aware we decided not to wait until it had cleared the asteroid belt, because that might act as a kind of filter if the damn thing fragments completely or bounces off any number of other asteroids. That could produce a very complicated outcome, similar to the cue ball on a snooker table heavily populated with reds. And I remind you that you wanted to get these warheads on their way as soon as possible. Anyway, to reach any object in space we can't just follow a straight line, so Kuznetsov is correct, we should arrive at the missile space coordinates a little later, but by using less fuel."

"Ok, ok, I understand that, but why did she refuse to follow your orders before suggesting this method? I need to..."

Kolorov noticed a man approaching their booth on the way to the toilets. It all happened in a flash. He produced an automatic pistol, gunned both men down, and ran for the exit. Everyone else in the restaurant dived for cover. When it was obvious the shooter wasn't going to return, a waiter ran to the aid of the two men who'd been shot. Malenkov had a clean bullet hole at both the front and back of his head, and died instantly. In the split second Kolorov had noticed the shooter approaching, a sixth sense had afforded him the chance to become a moving target. He had been shot in the shoulder, but was alive. He subsequently became unconscious and was rushed to hospital.

# Chapter 23

Kolorov's surgery to remove the bullet lodged in his shoulder had gone well, and despite the surgeon telling the police they would have to wait to speak to him, the patient declared that he wanted to help in any way he could.

Two officers stood at his bedside. One from the precinct where the shooting took place, the other from the Intelligence agency. The latter waited until the precinct detective had taken a full statement from Kolorov and then left before asking any further questions. The Intelligence agent spoke quietly.

"When you say you saw the gunman approach the toilets at the rear of the restaurant, did you notice any other suspicious person in the place?"

"No, I wouldn't even have paid any attention to the gunman if he had not been wearing that hat. It is not usual, is it? I mean, going for a piss with a Homberg on your head. That is what alerted me, and then when the gun came out of his pocket, I tried to dive to the floor, otherwise I am sure I would be dead as well. Malenkov had no chance to move, he was facing away from the gunman"

"Ok, I am only asking this because it was Malenkov. Such a professional hit is rarely carried out by one man. Also, the status Malenkov enjoys in the underworld would normally mean he would have minders with him. But you told the precinct detective that there was nobody else with him. Who knew of the meeting at the restaurant?"

"How the hell would I know that? He needed me to answer his questions about the current Mars mission, and didn't want anyone to overhear the answers. It was his choice of restaurant, apparently one of his favourites. As far as I know he was driven there by his private chauffeur, maybe you need to speak with him."

"Yes, I will do that. Please understand why I am asking these questions. I have to determine if you are still in danger. If Malenkov did not want any eavesdropping on your meeting and he was asking the questions, you were providing the answers. That makes me think you could have been the main target."

"I have no idea why that would be the case. The gunman shot at Malenkov first, and apparently caused a fatal wound. I was a moving target but I thought I was going to die. Maybe he thought he had killed me as well."

"Mmm, well thank you for seeing me and the precinct officer. I would like to talk to you again when you are feeling better, if that is acceptable to you."

"Of course, especially if you really think I could still be a target when the gunman hears I am still alive."

*

Two days later, Kolorov had another visitor he'd never met before. It was Grigori Malenkov, the eldest son of Oleg. The family lawyer had dumped an unwelcome surprise on his youthful shoulders. The agreement between the nine original oligarchs had been carried out to the letter, especially with respect to provision of a last will and testament that in the event of any member's demise, the family would not receive shares in Soyuz, but a substantial sum in a side clause. It had been intended to protect the families from enemies of the oligarchs, from rival gangs in the underworld.

When Oleg Malenkov became the sole inheritor of all Soyuz shares, he had swiftly but quietly changed his will. Grigori was now the legal owner of a juggernaut organisation he had absolutely no intention or desire to accept. He simply asked Kolorov to make the problem go away, but the injured patient had no idea what he was talking about.

"Wait a minute please," said Kolorov, as he pressed the button to attract a nurse, "just calm down, we can talk this through."

After speaking with the Intelligence Agent, he was very nervous about a strange young man apparently out of control in his private room. How did he get past security to see him? Who was he?

A male nurse appeared and asked the young man for some ID. When the kid produced this, Kolorov relaxed sufficiently to ask Grigori to sit down. The nurse left them to start the conversation again.

"Right, son, what exactly is the problem you want to go away?"

"My father's will leaves a lot of money to my mother to keep us safe. My brother is only seventeen and gets nothing, but I do and I want out of here. He left me all these shares in your company, but I do not want the job that goes with them. I just want a lump of money so that I can disappear to somewhere they will not find me. I just want to become a full time surfer, a nice warm country would do everything for me. Look, just sell the shares for me, a few million is all I want. You would never see me again. Come on please, my father would want you to help me out."

"Listen carefully, Grigori. I am in here and alive because your father was shot first and I had only a split second to dive on to the floor and roll under the table. The gunman still shot me, but I was lucky. Who the hell in their right mind will buy those shares? Speak to the lawyer who read Oleg's will."

"I did already, but he doesn't want to help me either. I know that the value of these shares is very big, but hell, just give me five million. You work for this company, you are not going to quit are you."

"Not immediately, but I have thought about it. Look, the best I can do is to ask for you to bring your lawyer here to talk to me, but you must be present. We can try and sort out your problem. Go, and be quick about it, I won't be staying here any longer than I have to."

*

Before Kolorov could grab some badly needed sleep, he had yet another visitor. Alexei Bondarenko was the man who'd helped him to identify the mole on Kepler, while inspecting archive footage on Brandt's flight deck.

"Close the door behind you, for god's sake."

"You ok, Ivan? You look relieved."

"Do not speak about me, you arsehole. I told you to shoot me in the arm, not my damned shoulder. I will be stuck in here for a few days now. I wanted a simple flesh wound to convince the cops that I could not possibly be a suspect. You made sure of that with your sloppy second shot."

"Sorry, but you dived, I am not bloody Wyatt Earp, I am an I.T. guy. I tried to tell you this but you would not listen. Anyway, has anybody given the cops a description of the shooter?"

"Sure, I did, I also gave them your address and phone number, what do you think? Even the waiters ran away, and nobody could see your face under that stupid hat. Now listen carefully, I asked you to do this because if we had used our usual contacts to get rid of Malenkov, somebody would have squealed sooner or later. It would have been the end for both of us. However, we now have a new situation to deal with. Malenkov changed his will and left all his Soyuz shares to his eldest son. The kid has just been to see me and he is scared shitless about being next in line for termination. I told him to relax, but he just wants out. He will bring his lawyer to see me soon to offer me the shares at a crazy stupid low price. I want you to play the role of my lawyer so that we can do what the kid wants. We need only five million to take over the company. Talk to the bank and get them to set aside this amount."

"Wait a minute, Ivan. This is ridiculous, and the tax people will be on it like a bunch of sharks. I want nothing to do with this."

"Just shut up and hear me out, will you? After we get hold of the shares, we can contact what is left of our honourable government vultures and explain the unusual circumstances we face. They are more corrupt than Malenkov himself, and they will benefit substantially when we responsibly offer to pass the shares on to them for a very reasonable mark up. Think about it, the world might end in five years' time and Soyuz is in prime position to change that prognosis, or get a few of our species to colonise Mars. We humbly offer to keep working for the company, but truly believe it should be state-owned once again. It is a selfless act on our part and also gets us out from under the threat of these damned personal anarchist attacks. The greedy bastards in the tax department will jump at this because it seems to put them in control of the Mars situation, particularly those who would be selected to go there if we fail to knock out the asteroid. This can be a win-win situation for us if we play the greater good card. And, we earn an apparently inconsequential fee, we will be seen to have declined obscene personal gain. This is a one-time chance for us to get ourselves out of the abyss, Alexei. Don't overthink it, just go and set up the bank transfer, ready for me to authorise. I also need to know what is going on with Kuznetsov, she's not to be underestimated, my friend. Bring me the latest coordinates for Laika and the missile fleet. Get them back to me within the hour."

# Chapter 24

In reality, the conundrum facing Kolorov was extremely complex. The launch time of the nuclear warheads was the one constant in his cosmic riddle. The position, trajectory and speed of the asteroid was known, but could change. Now that Malenkov had been deleted from the equation, tracking the fleet of missiles was optional, and of little concrete value in the greater scheme of events, in his mind. He was concerned by Kuznetsov's actions; even if her alteration of course did make sense of some kind, in reality, it had only been precipitated by Malenkov's ill-considered edict. Her initial flat refusal to follow orders had only been overturned by threats to the families of the crew. He needed to communicate with her, bring her up to date with the new situation, and determine the real reason for her suggesting course alteration rather than simply allowing the implied threats to make her comply.

He couldn't risk delegating the maze of calculations to the people normally charged with such tasks, because some were mathematically quantifiable but others were more in the realms of political psychology. The visit of Grigori Malenkov had changed the entire landscape, at least for the present. He had to accept, albeit reluctantly, that only Bondarenko could be trusted implicitly at this moment in time. That could also change, as and when he was sure of Kuznetsov's intent.

His thinking was also encumbered by being confined to hospital, with its attendant lack of privacy, constant need for medical tests, and no secure means of communication. Such a chaotic environment was conducive to making mistakes and hasty judgement. Unfortunately, it may have to get worse before it could get better. In a few hours he would be conducting a charade with Grigori Malenkov, his lawyer, and a pretend lawyer of his own. His thoughts flicked back to the fleet of missiles.

He'd been railroaded by Oleg Malenkov into launching them much earlier than his old friend Julien Delacroix intended to dispatch those of VB Aerospace. With less than five years to go until the asteroid could actually reach Earth, he had always felt that the more simplistic strategy of pinpointing where the fleet could intercept the asteroid by adhering to a single point in space-time was grossly flawed. Even if his current fleet required less sophisticated propulsion technology, it would take much longer to reach the asteroid, and consequently offered a poorer coefficient of accuracy. Malenkov's insistence that it was better to know one's fate than to wallow in uncertainty, now seemed so wrong. History had shown clearly that transfer orbits were a much better way of making such a rendezvous. Initially having decided that the best place to strike the asteroid was between the asteroid belt and Mars, Kolorov had drawn on the experience of the October 1989 launch of Galileo, which arrived in Jupiter space six years later, in December 1995. This was his first reference point, one of single orbit propulsion. In comparison, in January 2006, New Horizons was launched with its more efficient propulsion system. More importantly, it employed the Hohmann transfer orbit approach. This method required much more complex calculations to enlist the help of slingshot principles from other gravitational bodies. The staggering truth was that New Horizons reached Jupiter space in thirteen months. Considering that the _average_ distance between Earth and Jupiter orbits is approximately 483 million miles, the payoff with transfer orbit rendezvous was obvious in both time to destination and accuracy, provided that the asteroid maintained it course at forty thousand miles per hour. This strategy would have allowed for a much later launch, especially as the fleet only had to travel to within 'sight' of the asteroid belt.

He cursed himself for bowing to Malenkov's pressure, to be seen to be actually doing something now, rather than procrastinating for another few years, merely mimicking VB Aerospace. Malenkov had also insisted that simply waiting would risk losing the confidence of the public, as well as fuelling the fires of the anarchists.

In fact, Kolorov recalled Malenkov's challenge to the accepted wisdom of interference with the monster's journey before it encountered possible pinball in the heavily populated asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars. Most respected cosmologists warned the oligarch that this could have dire consequences. Although Malenkov conceded to this view he was never going to back down on the launch date. Having any kind of salvation on its way would keep the proles happy. Deep down, Kolorov knew this had been driven by a combination of greed and fear. What a mess he had helped to create. He briefly contemplated speaking with Julien Delacroix, but decided against the notion, at least until he knew whether his scheme to acquire and sell on Soyuz to the state was indeed feasible.

*

Kolorov was becoming agitated because it was almost time for Grigori and his lawyer to make an appearance, yet Bondarenko had failed to arrive and wasn't answering his phone. The patient had been reprimanded by the nursing staff several times and was repeatedly told to calm down. He was busy threatening to discharge himself when his fake lawyer burst into the room, red-faced and breathless.

"Where the hell have you been? I have tried to contact you all afternoon. Close the door and sit down. Now, before Grigori arrives, did you get confirmation of Kuznetsov's coordinates?"

"No, well, not really, but that is of no importance now."

"No importance! I asked you to do a simple job for me, one which I consider to be ultra-important. What the hell have you been doing? Why do you not follow my damned orders?"

"Ivan, just calm down. Kuznetsov's coordinates are no longer important with respect to tracking the missiles. She sent a message to you, simply stating that Laika was returning to Earth. She obviously had no intention of complying with Malenkov's instructions."

"Shit. I suspected she wasn't really being up-front when she suggested her new course alteration, she was just buying time. Well, I suppose it could be worse, for a while I thought she might be going to crash into the fleet in an act of martyrdom. At least we have no need to explain some disaster like that. Ok, now listen to me and do exactly as I say this time. When Grigori's lawyer begins his bullshit about the problems with our scheme, I want you to whisper your advice in my ear. I want to do the talking, but make it appear that I am taking your advice. It makes no difference what you whisper to me, as long as only I hear it. The football scores or the weather forecast will do. Do you get the picture?"

"Yes, and I am relieved to hear I do not have to talk like a lawyer. Are you sure you can pull this off?"

"Of course, as long as you don't ruin things by opening your mouth."

The door opened and the nurse informed Kolorov that his visitors had arrived. Grigori's lawyer declined to sit and began lecturing Kolorov, who nudged Bondarenko under the table. The whispering began and there was nodding of the head prior to any reply.

"I hear your objections Mr..?"

"Federov, Anatoly Federov."

"Right. Anatoly, my legal friend here has reminded me that this is not a normal situation, and therefore normal regulations are less important than they used to be. In well under five years we may all be history, including the tax people. It would take at least that long for them to bring a case of fraudulent action, even if there was no threat to humanity on the horizon. Look at it this way, I have responded to a request from your client, a young man who wants to get the best out of what may be a very short life. I would do the same. I am suggesting using Soyuz funds to buy shares in itself, there is a lot of precedent to this kind of trading. The benefit to the government, including the tax lizards, is the gift of such a prestigious organisation to the people we are trying to save. It makes sense in terms of accountability, survival is simply not guaranteed, but it might just help to placate these damned anarchists as well. Grigori is right, if he hangs on to the ownership he could suffer the same fate as his father. I am only prepared to act as an intermediary. Of course I would like a small fee for surrendering my own stockholding in such a gesture. Grigori wants only five million for the company, and I would not want more than a paltry million as a facilitator. This total of six million wouldn't even cover a couple of pieces of specialised analytical equipment in one of our laboratories, never mind the state of the art assembly lines and everything else. Look, nobody is interested in anything but whether we will succeed in stopping this planet-killer, so what is the big deal in Grigori making such a selfless gesture to mankind? I think you have to see the current situation in a wider context, Anatoly. Of course, I can understand it will require the appropriate choice of words in the transfer document, but I recognise your responsibility as Grigori's legal 'guardian' and your fee should be appropriately set to reflect any risk to your reputation. Am I making sense of this in such a time of crumbling law enforcement?"

"Well, when you put it like that, I should at least discuss this again with my client in private. I can let you know what we decide in the coming days."

After Grigori and his lawyer left and closed the door, Bondarenko visibly relaxed. He turned to Kolorov and managed a constrained smile.

"What is it that bothers you now, Alexei? We have had a good day. I may even forgive you for messing up the shooting. We can be confident that Grigori's lawyer will not be able to resist a healthy kickback for doing almost nothing. We are then able to use this benevolent act to nationalise Soyuz once more as a means of overriding the late Oleg Malenkov's death sentence on the crew of Laika, and order Kuznetzov back to Earth immediately. The nuclear fleet still has its part to play, but in truth, I am not making too many ten year plans until we have solid evidence that the asteroid has been neutralised. Of course we have a second chance with VB Aerospace still to decide on when their follow up strike is to be launched. They would be well-advised to wait until they know how our fleet fared. That should not be difficult considering Julien Delacroix is genetically over-cautious."

*

Elise was now strong enough to enjoy short trips outside the hospital as long as they weren't too taxing. She was so keen to see the plot of land which Julien had donated to her sister. The family gathering was appropriately marked by opening a magnum of expensive champagne and raising their glasses to an awesome sunset, with the promise of celestial drama on such a clear night. Meteor showers were expected and duly arrived, slightly elusive to the human eye in the fading half-light.

It was a major milestone for all of them, but particularly Julien, as the full impact of banishing any splintering of his loved ones helped to push other concerns into the background. He would have soldiered on if he'd lost Elise to kidney failure, but it would have been extremely difficult if neglect of her condition had been solely down to his own tunnel vision in dealing with an asteroid. Such introspection, had to be seen for what it was, a haunting luxury in the context of 'life goes on'. It was to be savoured wholesomely, yet woven into a mosaic of pragmatic reality. A feeling which until now had eluded him for his entire married life. He experienced a strong urge to hold Elise tightly, but knew that had to wait, she was still too fragile.

# Chapter 25

Part Three: Confluence

2037

As day zero relentlessly approached, there were many signs of change in the air. The clock was ticking louder as the VB Aerospace deflection launch was in final countdown phase. The agonising wait was almost over, but had curiously spawned both hope and resignation, even within families.

The Soyuz nuclear arsenal had failed spectacularly and the fallout had been handled in a less than transparent manner.

Ivan Kolorov was a born survivor, blessed with an ingenious ability to deflect culpability, but obviously not asteroids. The official explanation of the premature detonation of one warhead, and the immediate blackout of further data transmission, was a convenient means of self-preservation. He argued that the echelon formation of approach to the asteroid had never been challenged by so-called experts before the disaster. The echelon formation had been approved in order to produce optimal distribution of destruction and deflection force. The software analysis indicated that the third warhead in the echelon had been the source of such a monumental mishap. Independent I.T. experts had been drafted in to begin picking over the bones of the asteroid's unhindered progress. Kolorov's closest ally, Alexei Bondarenko became a willing sacrificial lamb, and with his mentor's help, disappeared to some unknown remote location.

Such an 'elementary' error, in the eyes of the uneducated, shifted the odds of the planet continuing to support any form of life after 2039. Decades of diminishing religious faith suddenly saw a complete turnaround. The rush to anarchism, despite frequent atrocities still being screened on television, saw a significant fall in recruitment to their ranks. City strongholds were the grateful benefactors of this adverse publicity, as it fuelled a steady stream of desperate people, seeking a sense of belonging once more. Consequently, urban refuges swelled in roughly similar proportion to anarchic deserters for the first time in a decade. Life within these city limits was not free from danger, but it was becoming by far the least threatening option as 2039 inexorably crept closer. The anarchist influence had come full circle, providing freedom from authoritarian rule, only to replace it with indiscriminate slaughter of innocents. The previously magnetic doctrine now offered little else, especially in the face of there being only about another seven hundred and thirty days to extinction. The total collapse of conventional paper currency had also undermined the recent march to anarchy, as it inadvertently created problems for an unregulated barter system outside of city society. Within urban enclaves, in which protection of infrastructure became the defining difference between the two ideologies, the tenet that all humans are **not** actually equal was gradually being rejuvenated. The human race was facing a common threat, and yet its entire population was dependent on just a few of these **unequal** individuals - conceiving, constructing, and implementing salvation - whether or not they were chosen by some omnipotent presence.

Julien Delacroix was one of them and decided it was the perfect time to contact Kolorov.

*

The past two years of finessing the fleet launch had been a mixture of frustration and patience for Julien in terms of preparing for the big day. In sharp contrast, his private life had been the happiest he'd known. Eugene's research complex was a stunning testament to Julien's foresight in authorising genetic analysis on such a scale. Sophie's dream house creation became the bedrock of the new family, and Geraldine's quirky little cottage provided the final touch. Sophie's dedication to these projects had thrown her together with a multiplicity of construction personnel, one of whom was rather special. She still struggled with commitment, but conceded that he could be referred to as a boyfriend.

Elise was now fully recovered, and the prognosis going forward was positive. The life-giving kidney transplant had altered her perception of what was really important. She, more than the rest of the family, looked upon the next two years as a stay of execution rather than notice of termination. She had found a new strength to live every day to the full, often leaving her sister, with whom she spent most of her time, perennially exhausted. Geraldine did become homesick quite frequently, but this was offset to some degree by the continual news bulletins of terrorist acts in cities such as Lyon.

*

"Julien Delacroix!" exclaimed Kolorov, "I could never have expected to hear from you again, especially after we played dirty with your Mars project...well, you know what I mean. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm not sure I'd call it a pleasure, Ivan. But, it is about time those of us responsible for stopping this damned rock from eating the human race actually cooperated. Time is short and that is the very least we owe to the species. I'm sure I could learn from the mistakes Soyuz made with their attempt. Even if it was indeed a software error, the language of your explanation didn't really stack up in my humble opinion. You were responsible for the mission and yet here you are, still running things."

"Aha, now I get it, you don't have any evidence to contradict our detailed findings, and you are shitting yourself in case you make the same mistake."

"No, no, listen very carefully, Ivan. I'm not asking for your help, I'm insisting that you do as I say before it's too late to save your lousy skin."

"Are you threatening me? I do not have time for..."

"Shut up and take your mind back to Volker Brandt's flight deck. You quite sensibly asked me to trash the whole system when you left VB Aerospace, and I agreed. But somehow I never got around to it."

"Yes you did, your mission operations director confirmed it to me after you finished the job. Nice try."

"I think he might have told you we had dismantled it and bricked up the office, but that is only half true. I neglected to dismantle any of it. That would have been a dangerous move, someone involved could have discovered exactly what was buried in that system, and we couldn't have that, could we, Ivan? So, I just mothballed it...well, until now."

The line went dead and a slow smile spread across Julien's face.

*

Eugene's research had led him to a mixture of expected results and mind-blowing discoveries. His cross-expertise teams had quickly ruled out certain project avenues with high work input for marginal gains, and the ambitious original list of potential targets had been systematically crunched down to fit the ever-diminishing time constraint.

He had been personally involved with the work on project 'Genetic Scissors'. Several generations of rats had been studied following the results of cutting out gene segments and stitching in replacements. The criteria for judging success or failure was kept simple because of difficulty in assigning behavioural scores. Subjectivity could not be wholly factored out; they were dumb animals and didn't have opinions, nevertheless differences did emerge. There was a definite trend, and it was found in those individuals which had the most seriously aberrant behaviour characteristics prior to the procedure. Cured was a word which Eugene refused to acknowledge at this stage; he preferred 'assisted' until he could begin tests on human volunteers. In contrast, within the mini-societies of rats with untreated individuals, fighting and tension remained prevalent, impacting group behaviour in a confined space dramatically, often to the point of killing and cannibalism.

Sophie had been kept abreast of this work and typically became impatient, insisting that she should be the first human volunteer.

"All in good time, sis," said Eugene, "we have to try to structure balanced but different groups. This is necessary for the interpretive stage of the outcome of every mini-society. We can't expect to harness humans to little 'closed' societies as we did with the rats. The makeup of the subjects given or not given the treatment is much more important than with animals. We certainly don't want to lock a few of you in cages with a bunch 'norms' and tell you all to mind your manners! The interpretation of results with humans is going to be difficult simply because they **are** humans. And just think about it, I can't warn the others in your group, for example, otherwise they might become self-harmers!"

"Ha, bloody ha, Gene. 'All in good time' is bullshit, we don't have the luxury of time. Like, who is going to care if people get pissed off with things just a couple of days before we all become nature's little atoms again? Get a move on, brother. Otherwise it will all be for nothing. Just don't put me in your group, I'd rather go with the assisted rats."

*

"Hello, Julien." There was resignation in Kolorov's voice. "I finally tracked down your former ops director of communications. So, I suppose I have to listen to you after all. The cretin could only confirm that Brandt's flight deck had been bricked up. He could not comment on whether the equipment had been decommissioned or moved. My fault for relying on amateurs, however, I need to see the kit myself before agreeing to anything you have in mind. Don't take down the wall until I get there tomorrow, otherwise I will know this is a bluff. Do we agree?"

"Of course. You're the untrustworthy swine in this saga, and I'd anticipated some response like this. We can break down the wall together. There is a condition from my side as well. You come alone, and you had better bring all relevant data from the analysis of the disaster. I want to see exactly why missile number three detonated. It had better be good, Ivan. Unless I'm totally satisfied, you'll be unemployed. That isn't a nice prospect in Russia these days, what with the remains of the mafia and anarchists on your case. The safest place for you to be is right here. See you tomorrow."

*

Reuben Alvarez was born to Mexican parents, both of whom had tragically died in a high speed train crash which claimed the lives of over one hundred people. He'd been split up from his siblings at the tender age of seven. His two elder brothers had been placed in an orphanage, and his younger sister had been the subject of a painfully long adoption procedure to an American family. Reuben was taken in by an uncle, whose own family consisted of four girls and a single boy. It wasn't a particularly happy time for him. He was old enough to feel intense grief at the loss of his mother and father, but too immature to realise he would never see his sister again. His uncle also made sure he didn't visit the orphanage, as he deemed Reuben's elder brothers to be a bad influence on the boy. Nevertheless, Reuben began to feel that he would never really be accepted by the wife of his uncle, and consequently he was starved of real love.

As soon as he was old enough, he left his surrogate family, having qualified as a junior architect. He'd always dreamed of space travel, aliens, and UFOs, and his grades were good enough to land a position in the company Sophie had chosen to build the Delacroix residence. In sharp contrast to her, he was extremely easy going. Despite this he exhibited a very keen attention to detail, and this was the forum in which they met, clashed, and ultimately developed deep mutual respect. Reuben was a competent rather than a gifted artist and so they had much to learn from one another. His ability to become a buffer between the senior architect and Sophie kept the project on track and avoided many heated arguments. He became adept at heading off many bitter, entrenched situations of impasse. One particular debate encapsulated their burgeoning personal bond. A shouting match had erupted over the colour of a section of the atrium which was to be rendered. The senior architect insisted that Sophie's choice would not be accepted by the planning authority. She was unmoved, and stated that the planning people were nothing more than talking rule books. Reuben had noticed that the architect had often exhibited signs of defective colour vision and suggested all three of them took a test to determine their scores. Sure that they were both right, the antagonists agreed. When the architect was declared blue-green deficient and Sophie was not, the spat was extinguished amicably. The roots of a special relationship were evident.

# Chapter 26

Grigori's lawyer had not made further contact and Kolorov was getting twitchy, but had no intention of making the next move, even though he was about to head off to see Julien Delacroix. His brinkmanship paid off, yet he decided to push it to the limit. The lawyer finally phoned to ask if he could come and see him again, but this time alone. Kolorov gave him a time ultimatum of his self-discharge from hospital. After that, the offer would be withdrawn. The lawyer said he would be there in under thirty minutes. He arrived with a pile of papers.

"I need to make you aware of a couple of sticking points with your proposal. They are minor items but they must be attended to if the transfer is to satisfy the financial regulators. It will not take long."

"I would ask you to take a seat, but you are correct, this will not take long. You represent the interests of a murdered oligarch's son. He, Grigori, wants this to happen. I told him when he first came to see me that his request would be quite a difficult one to execute. That is why I sent him to see you. That is what you get paid for is it not? I could not care less if the deal collapses, but I would if I was in your position. These oligarchs look after their own, and you may be unknowingly placing yourself in the firing line. If this is just about your cut, I would resist getting too greedy. Just take less and make these sticking points go away. You need to be aware that I leave for the other side of the world in two hours, and the outcome of that meeting could have serious consequences, one of which would prohibit me from acting on behalf of Soyuz any longer, so I am afraid you have to make up your mind."

"I see. In that case I will delete the relevant points and find a way of getting the young man to safety with his money. Can you please look over the agreement and sign if you are happy with it?"

"Of course. If I may offer you another piece of advice, you would be well advised not to ask Grigori where he intends to become invisible. His family should do the same. Finally, there will be no financial regulators to worry about in two years' time unless some other organisation can derail the asteroid, so, I would not lose sleep over that. Perhaps you should worry more about traceability of your cut, or even whether you should take anything."

The signed documents were exchanged and the lawyer shuffled uncomfortably out of Kolorov's 'office'.

*

As loathe as he was to divulge a confidence, Eugene decided to ask for his father's opinion.

"Sophie has given me a hard time, she insists on being the first human volunteer to undergo the genetic 'snip and restore' technique. She's in one of those moods, you know, when she won't take no for an answer. I can see her point in some respects, but the work isn't complete. It looks really promising, but it's my sister for hell's sake. What do you think, Dad?"

"Eugene, you're asking someone who has totally screwed up his family life once already. I'm no oracle when it comes to stuff like this. I'm lucky to have a second chance and I'm sorry but I don't want to influence you in coming to a decision. I'll respect whatever you decide."

"Yeah, you're right, I shouldn't be troubling you with this. Apart from trying to discuss this with her rationally, she has this young man Reuben supporting her. He's a great kid, and he argues a good case without shouting and getting in a strop. Anyway, tell me, I haven't pestered you in a while, but I need your honest opinion. Do you really believe we will knock the asteroid out of the equation? A hint would help, and it stays between us."

"All I can say right now is that the launch project itself could not be going better, and the asteroid has not strayed significantly from its predicted trajectory. I'm confident in our ability to get everything under way on time and our electronic monitoring capability is vastly superior to anything I've ever seen before. There is another matter though. I have a visitor arriving shortly, you must remember Ivan Kolorov, the man who asked me to decommission the flight deck system?"

"Oh yes, the Russian, the one who used VB Aerospace to further his own future. Why in hell is he coming here?"

"I wanted him to know that his meteoric rise to power hinged on us burying the content of the flight deck data system. I can't think of any other way to extort the truth from him about the Soyuz failure to influence the asteroid. I've studied the official explanation over and over, and it simply doesn't make sense. I can't rule out sabotage, Eugene, and that in my opinion is the greatest threat to our mission. There are many factions of the human race which don't want to interfere in God's great plan, you know, 'everything happens for a good reason'. Kolorov isn't one of them, indeed the Soyuz fleet may have been victim to such misguided terrorism. If that is the case, he must have a different story to tell. Let me speak with him before you make up your mind about Sophie's treatment."

"Shit! I had hoped you could make my decision clearer, I wasn't expecting you to muddy the water. Can I be present during the discussion?"

"I was intending to invite you anyway. You convinced me not to trash the flight deck, remember? He will have to listen to the person who advised me at the time, and now I have my very own I.T. expert. Don't worry, I have no intention of letting him know you're my son."

*

Julien's mobile vibrated and flashed up Sophie's picture. "Hi, honey, I'm just about to..."

"Listen, Dad, I came to Geraldine's cottage to see Mum because she wasn't in her own space. They had arranged to go shopping today and Mum asked if I wanted anything. I said I'd bring my list of stuff around before they left, but they aren't here in the cottage and the place is in an almighty mess. It looks like a break-in, the rear door has been smashed in, all of the wardrobes and drawers have been emptied on to the floor. I can't get either Mum or Geraldine on their phones, and anyway, they would never leave the place like this. I have informed the police, but they gave me some crap excuse for not coming after I told them there was no burglar on the premises. They're a bunch of arseholes, so I think you should speak with them."

"What? Ok, I'll go to the station right away, meet me there. Were you late going around to the cottage? I mean, could they have left before the break-in?"

"No, I'm not late, they said they were leaving at eleven, and it's just gone quarter to. Come on, Dad, don't treat me like I'm spaced out or something, this just feels all wrong. I'm on my way to the station, see you there, just hurry."

*

Kolorov was looking forward to the flight, but not the meeting. Fresh from hustling Grigori Malenkov's lawyer into effectively making him the owner of Soyuz, he could now concentrate on turning the crosshairs on Julien Delacroix. The long journey would have been distracting even in first class seats of a commercial airline, but the private jet of the company was a different matter. It felt right, not having to justify such indulgence to anyone else for a change.

He relaxed with a glass of his favourite red wine, hoping that it would wash over his grey matter as well as the beluga caviar. He'd underestimated Julien, and experience taught him that there must be no repetition. The wrong kind of revelations would pretty much guarantee his exile from his homeland, or worse. A dignified burial plot with droves of pretend mourners.

His recollection of events just before he left VB Aerospace were pretty blurred, not least because of everything that had happened since. He had shafted so many people in his rise to the top that he only really remembered the most outstanding examples. Suddenly, this naïve anorak who studied the night sky and got his thrills from pulsars, quasars, and supernovae, was his single most fearsome opponent in the gladiatorial arena of winner takes all. He was struggling to pinpoint how Julien would come at him. Flexibility had to be the watchword until he had a handle on the parameters of manoeuvre he could bargain with. This would not be possible unless he could review all of the data supposedly retained on the flight deck. This, even if Julien agreed to it, would take a number of days or even weeks. How he could have done with his most faithful ally, Alexei Bondarenko, on such a tricky firefight.

*

Julien arrived at the police station and was met by Sophie and an officer who was taking her statement.

"It's ok, Dad, there was a misunderstanding. Mum and Geraldine are in the next room. Apparently, they were strolling along the cliff at the front of Geraldine's cottage at about nine o'clock this morning and they heard a lot of clattering and banging which seemed to be coming from the cottage. As they turned back to see what was going on, they saw someone jump into a car which approached the building at a hell of a speed. The man threw something into the back of the car, got into the passenger seat and the driver sped off again. When Mum and Geraldine got back to the cottage, they saw it had been trashed and called the police. They were asked to come to the station to report the incident, and the police sent a car for them. They've been describing the man and the car, and also trying to think of anything that could have been stolen. They lost track of the time and forgot that I would be going around to the cottage at eleven. They were asked to switch off their phones while they were giving the statement. I got so angry with the officer on the phone when he asked if the burglar was there, but the poor guy thought the perpetrator must have come back when I was reporting the break-in for a second time."

"Well, thankfully they are both ok, I was beginning to imagine all kinds of things. So, has anything been taken?"

"They don't know for sure, but they checked the place while they were waiting for the police to arrive and they couldn't say that anything was missing. It's weird."

"So, it's just damage to the property itself...that is strange, especially when the guy who broke in had an accomplice ready to come and pick him up. It sounds like they were looking for something specific. I think we should help Geraldine to go over the place again, very thoroughly. The burglars, if that's what they were, must have either known the place was going to be empty or they were just chancers, looking for signs of easy pickings."

"Yeah, maybe, but if that was the case, Geraldine has lots of stuff which is worth taking, but most of it was just left lying on the floor."

They all left the station together and drove back to check the cottage once more. Just as the second search was about to be abandoned, Geraldine muttered something to herself and then shrieked, "Oh my god, it's the other jewellery box that's missing."

"Which other box?" said Elise, "you have more than one?"

"The one for the keys. I'm sorry, Elise."

"Sorry for what? What was in there? Expensive family heirlooms or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It was my key box. It had all my keys for everything in the cottage, but it also had the spare key for your house. I should have kept it in my purse."

They jumped into the car and drove the quarter mile to the family house. There were no signs of a break-in until Julien checked his safe. It had been jemmied and there were documents missing.

# Chapter 27

Ivan Kolorov was surprised but not deceived by the warm welcome he was offered by Julien. He didn't recognise the third person in the office, Eugene. This was important, and Julien was very happy about the perplexed expression on the Russian's face.

"Please, take a seat, Ivan. I've asked for coffee to be brought before we begin reminiscing. I take it that you have no objection to a double espresso?"

"Certainly not. Just what I need, lots of caffeine to keep me alert."

Turning to Eugene, he introduced himself. "Hello, Ivan Kolorov, I don't think we have met."

"No, at least I don't recall having seen you in the flesh, but I couldn't pretend that I don't know who you are."

"Well, do not believe everything you hear, uh... Mr..." Julien interjected.

"Mr Christopher, Paul Christopher. He's my right hand man for all things information technology. You know how limited my capability is in that department."

"Aha, so you are the man who advised my friend not to wipe the data from the revered flight deck of Volker Brandt?"

"Yes, I guess you could say that," conceded Eugene. Kolorov was first to get down to business.

"Are you going to enlarge on that decision, and then tell me what happens next?"

"All in good time, Ivan," said Julien, "don't be so anxious, the espresso is on its way. Anyway, I want to wait for our other guest to make an appearance. Don't worry, we can't let you leave today without all of us knowing exactly where we stand."

*

The process of clearing up after the break-ins was not yet under way. The police had insisted on taking away certain items to check for fingerprints and DNA, and said it was still a crime scene. Sophie was overtly unhappy with the law enforcement squad, berating them over their apparent lack of urgency, especially as the two households were denied a date when they would be allowed to get on with restoring their respective properties to normality.

"These people are just going through the motions of finding the bastards who did this. They want us to believe they are actually doing something, but all they are really after is covering their own arses."

Geraldine had never quite got used to Sophie's tendency to resort to profanities when she couldn't influence a situation in which she wanted control. Elise tried to lower the tension.

"Listen, darling, your father has told the police that only a few papers were taken and they are of no value. When the police said they would need to file a report, he agreed because it will be needed if he wants to claim on the insurance for structural damage and breakages of things which are dear to our hearts, including some of your paintings and sculptures. Just let it go and spend more time with that young man of yours."

"I suppose, but Mum...you must have noticed Dad's horror when he realised those papers were gone, and how quickly he pretended they weren't important. For Christ's sake, the thieves took nothing else. Dad wants the police out of here even more than I do. I'm going to ask him to front up when he comes home tonight."

*

The coffee arrived and Julien asked his personal assistant to show their other visitor into the office. As he walked through the door, Kolorov stopped in mid-sentence and became hostage to an involuntary double take. He recognised the man but couldn't actually believe his eyes.

"It can't be...is that really you, Alexei?" Turning to Julien he forfeited his calm demeanour. "How did you find Bondarenko and why have you brought him here?"

Alexei Bondarenko was almost unrecognisable, the thick black hair was gone, his head shaved down to the wood, he was completely bald. What had thrown Kolorov most was the massive ugly diagonal scar across the entire width of his forehead. The surgical treatment he'd undergone had been administered by amateurs and caused significant distortion of his facial features.

"Sorry, Ivan, but I didn't bring him here, he contacted me out of the blue. He has a story to tell, he convinced me this would be the safest place on earth for him following his recent near-death incident. Maybe you should ask him yourself."

Bondarenko needed no further encouragement.

"I contacted Mr Delacroix because I had no one else to turn to. You talked me into taking the blame for the Soyuz disaster to get yourself out of the firing line. I have participated in a lot of these kind of things, Ivan, all of them being to protect your reputation. When you asked me to shoot Malenkov and yourself, I expected that to be the last such request in which you would involve me. Then, when you promised me a sum of money which would mean I no longer had to work, I complied. You cleverly convinced me that after my confession over the missile cock up, I should disappear and nobody but you would know the whereabouts of my safe house. This time you have set a trap and walked into it yourself. The thugs who did this to me, left me for dead, and I would have been if an old lady hadn't called for an ambulance and the police. That's why you could not believe it was me when I entered the office just now. So, my honourable comrade, the tables are turned. You never delivered the money you promised me, and you had this coming. I have seen the archive content which has been preserved by Mr Delacroix and Mr Christopher. It has now, with my recommendation, been etched on to a new indelible surface material which can only be accessed by Julien Delacroix. It can't be copied, erased, transmitted or altered in any way. I am now working for Mr Delacroix, and in that capacity, I am the custodian of information which will cause your downfall and perhaps your death. It would seem that it is now your turn to look for a place where nobody can find you, but I believe my real friends here have some questions for you."

Kolorov was visibly shaken by the vitriol in his former friend's voice, even though he could visualise the horror suffered by the man. Nevertheless, he felt he had to deny any involvement in the attempt on his life.

"Alexei, do you really believe I was in any way connected to this brutal attack? Ask yourself, why would I do that? You are correct when you stated that only you and I knew the location of the safe house, but that was before you actually got there. You had to hook up with someone to get the keys for a start, maybe others, cleaners, gardeners, delivery boys with food; you know you should really think back about such people and how they behaved. I know we have both previously carried out some pretty unsavoury acts in order to survive, but I would never have allowed anything like this to happen to you if I had known about it. Whatever else comes out of this meeting, including my own fall from grace, you have to believe that. In fact, I am not going to participate any further unless you tell me so."

Quite a protracted silence was finally curtailed by Julien.

"Well, Alexei, what do you think? Do you trust his word that he had nothing to do with the attempt on your life?"

"I find it difficult to trust him yet again, but I suppose it is possible that there could also be people who were in Soyuz when I left who were in a position to extract my approximate whereabouts from travel information, passport checks and stuff like that. Now I work for you, and that comes with around the clock protection, so I guess I can put personal matters aside, at least until we know whether any of us have a future to worry about."

Julien looked at Kolorov. It was a long time coming, but he eventually nodded his acceptance of Bondarenko's conciliatory gesture. The discussion agenda could be revealed.

"Very well, then let's get started. Ivan, what I'm proposing is a yes or no offer, there can be no if, maybe, or taking time out to think about it. You are either part of the solution or you have to face a return to Russia, after publication of everything you were involved with in our Mars mission, then Soyuz' abandoned mission to that planet, and finally, the failed attempt to nuke the asteroid to safety. Between us – Paul Christopher, Alexei Bondarenko and yours truly, we have amassed a pretty damning bundle of evidence to show you have lived a life of lies, corruption and sabotage. There is more than enough to incarcerate you for the rest of your life, even if it's only got two more years left on the clock."

"Also, Ivan," added Bondarenko, "do not rely on being safe in prison. Over the years of covering your arse, I have run into many unsavoury characters who would gladly see your ashes scattered into a sewage farm. It should be no surprise to you that I have retained copies of every detail of your little deal with Malenkov's son. Remember, it's what I have always done for you. So, do not pretend that you are merely the chief executive of Soyuz now. You acquired the entire stock of the company for a paltry sum of electronic money. We are your best option to avoid personal extinction."

"Well, well, so you broke cover to get to me and then accuse me of grassing you up. Anyway, your information is incomplete. The second part of the deal with Malenkov's son requires me to sell the shares I acquired to the Russian state, for only a modest profit. So, I will not be the owner by the time I return. That is unless your offer is so attractive that I do not return. Are you ever going to tell me what it is?"

Bondarenko could not help stop himself from filling the room with raucous laughter.

"Ivan, do you seriously think that the remnants of government will be interested in taking on such a controversial company, after our revelations. They are already sandwiched between the legions of citizens loyal to oligarchs and the hatred of the anarchists. They need another battleground like a mistimed nuclear explosion, and you know all about them."

Julien intervened. "As I wasn't aware of this deal regarding the fluid ownership of Soyuz, I think we should put our offer on hold until the picture becomes less obscure. That is unless you want to sell your stock to me, Ivan."

"Very astute, Julien," snapped Kolorov. "I'll sleep on it, but I still need to hear your offer."

Eugene, trying to remember his fake name, could hardly believe what he was hearing, and made his first real contribution to the gathering.

"If you don't mind, I'm having some difficulty with this kind of scruffy bargaining when the species is living on borrowed time. I'm comfortable in the knowledge that Julien, Alexei, and I have the evidence referred to earlier, it is locked away in independent safety deposit boxes. The key codes to these individual boxes are known only to the owner, not to each other. This at least serves as a brake on any one of us striking obscene deals with untrustworthy people. I'm leaving now, I have important work to get on with. Please do not involve me in such immoral nonsense again."

The meeting broke up and Kolorov declined a lift to his hotel. The other three met at the Delacroix residence. Eugene smiled and said, "Well, how did I do, Dad? Was the timing right? I don't think I would ever make it as an actor."

Both Julien and Bondarenko patted him on the shoulder and reassured him that he'd passed the test, primarily one of creating doubt in the mind of Kolorov.

# Chapter 28

It had been a really long day and Julien was utterly fatigued when he got home. He wasn't expecting an interrogation. He quickly figured out it was all down to Sophie.

"Don't you think you owe us an explanation, Dad? I mean, both houses trashed but nothing of value taken other than a few papers from the safe? There's something you aren't telling us. Come on, someone could have been badly hurt."

Julien looked at Eugene, who shook his head.

"Sometimes we just have to move on, Sophie. Geraldine and your mum went for a short stroll, but they admitted to the police that they didn't think it was necessary to set the security alarm. You did the same when you went to see them with your shopping list. The intruders would never have had time to take anything if the systems had been armed."

"Oh, I see, stupid me, it was our fault. Well, that explains it then. How could we be so naïve? What about the CCTV cameras? Did we black them out so that there would be no useful footage? No, I didn't think so. What's wrong with everyone? This was obviously an inside job of some kind. They knew exactly when to enter and how to switch off the cameras, they even knew how to get into your bulletproof safe, all in a matter of minutes."

Julien was becoming exasperated, and Eugene finally spoke up.

"Stop it, sis, there are some things you just don't need to know right now. Get off dad's back, it's me you should be moaning about. The papers which they took are mine. I asked dad to keep them in his safe because we've made a breakthrough in our research and it had to be protected. There are two aspects to this; first, the intellectual property side, and then the countdown to 2039. Whether you like it or not, there are people out there who aren't interested in helping the species as a whole, they only care about themselves. And this ticking time bomb of uncertainty has exacerbated this trend. You have pestered me to begin your treatment even though all side effects are not yet known, but our latest project has yielded the most effective corrective therapy so far. However, even within my own team, I have overheard conversations which worried me. Certain individuals have got wind of an opportunity to make the next two years really count for them. Some of my most trusted staff could be involved in pirating the new process, purely for personal gain. I asked dad to store some papers in the safe for me, and made sure people knew that the key research data were no longer stored at the technical centre. It was a necessary, if unfortunate, means of weeding out these opportunists. The papers were substitutes for the bona fide ones. At the very least, the perpetrators can do no harm now, as all they have is a bunch of failed experiments to ponder. However, they will now know we are on to them. So, let's guillotine the red mist for a while, and get on with your treatment. The ethics people are also in disarray over what they want to try to enforce in the next two years, so I have finally accepted that I can begin with my first human guinea pig. I'm sorry about the stress this has caused to the family, but we had to know where to wield the axe with these selfish sods who were only working on our research programme because of their unfathomable greed."

"Jesus, I never had you down as a spook, Eugene. Surely you could have trusted us, you could have warned us about your little scheme."

"You aren't listening, Sophie, these people are extremely cautious but clever. It wasn't some dickheads who broke into our homes because they needed to feed their habit, they are probably working for prodigiously wealthy people. This latest breakthrough affords us the chance to suspend all further research until the purge is complete. We can start your treatment tomorrow. It will be quite invasive, not so much in a surgical procedure respect, but certainly with regard to your mental recuperation. You need a good night's sleep. Well, go on then, off to bed."

Even though the three women weren't entirely happy that they'd been kept in the dark, it was more than a palliative that Sophie's treatment could begin at last. Elise walked Geraldine back to the cottage and Sophie headed for her own space. Julien turned to his son.

"You didn't mention the direction our enquiries will take now that the burglars took the bait, and their handlers realise why you have fired some of your most trusted staff."

"I think I'd like to see how Sophie responds to her procedure before we dig further into who the real movers and shakers are. Thanks for your patience, Dad, I hope the next steps with Kolorov go well for you. That is, after all, the most important project for all humankind."

*

Having slept fitfully, Ivan Kolorov was no nearer being able to piece together a cogent analysis of his predicament. His greatest concern was his former ally, Alexei Bondarenko. This man had not only been his go-to Mr Fixit, the man knew virtually everything he knew himself. Whatever else, he had to tread carefully if confronted with allegations from his fellow Russian. He settled for humility and pragmatism.

"Well?" said Julien, "can we assume you are prepared to engage in further discussion, or am I reading too much into your attendance this morning?"

"I am always happy to explore ideas or requests, so I need to know precisely why you think I can be of use to you when you patently do not trust me. Of course, if you believe you have an effective means of blackmailing me, you could coerce me to do things I would otherwise reject out of hand. But, that will not restore any trust on your part, so I am confused as to how I can answer your call for help, unless you familiarise me with details of your plan. I assume you do have a plan."

Bondarenko was about to speak when Julien pre-empted him.

"Very well. I want chapter and verse on events since you identified Nina Knudsen as the saboteur on our Kepler mission, all the way through to your abject failure to affect the course of the asteroid. Is that going to be difficult for you?"

"Not difficult, perhaps foolhardy. However, as my loyal friend here is prepared to sell out on me, I am willing to speak to you off the record, and perhaps you could ask questions rather than me giving a boring monologue. It would be a lot quicker and you have Alexei the lie detector sitting in your corner."

"Fine," agreed Julien, "so Nina Knudsen was working for Soyuz, just like her sister?"

"In a way."

"Not a promising start, Ivan. Why would she sacrifice her life for a bunch of bastards like yourself?"

"She had a young son who was diagnosed with terminal leukaemia. There was a new drug which could reduce his suffering and extend his life by a few years, but the cost was out of her reach. As a single mother she took the view that life was of no interest to her without him. She agonised over killing innocent people to help her boy, but finally made peace with herself, believing that everyone was going to die in a few years, years which would be his whole life."

Julien looked at Bondarenko, who nodded in affirmation.

"I see, and you didn't agonise as she did? Killing the entire crew?"

"I would dispute that, but if I had refused they would have fired me and got someone else to take over."

"And all of this waste of human life was acceptable if it allowed the twin pillars of Soyuz and Nero to get to Mars before VB Aerospace?"

"Yes, what else? You must remember at that time, Nero was calling the shots. And, do not diminish the motives of Volker Brandt, with his emphasis on espionage. It was sanitised war, nevertheless a serious war."

"That's one way of looking at it. Right, tell me about your relationship with Oleg Malenkov. Not just what I already know, the whole sordid story."

Kolorov smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Where to begin? I have no hesitation in telling you this man was the worst example of a human being I ever had the bad luck to come across in my life. He was the main driver in forming a type of oligarch cartel to get Soyuz free from its link with Nero or any other organisation. He sold the idea on with the patriotic card as a cornerstone, but one which could help all of the participants to hide assets from both government and anarchist eyes. I must admit that he had me convinced that this twin rationale was his only agenda. He arranged for the murder of all the other oligarchs without a hint of remorse. He vehemently denied any part in this massacre, but there were verifiable connections to the incident which led back to him. Of course Alexei will have told you that he inherited full ownership as a result of forward planning of the death of the others. It only left me to be dealt with. Some of my best friends died in that explosion."

"But he needed you, surely?"

"Only until a time of his choosing. I was ordered to put more urgency into destroying the asteroid, not deflecting it. He wanted resolution of that mission before we invested too much in a primitive Martian outpost. He saw Mars as a last resort, not for humanity, only for him, his family and a few technicians to keep them alive until it was known whether any life was going to be sustainable on Earth after 2039."

"So, that's why the crew of Laika was ordered to track the nuclear strike force. But why did you ask Alexei to kill Malenkov?"

"Pure survival instinct. I had to be with him and appear to suffer a near miss. Otherwise his people would have eliminated me because I knew too much. Having almost been killed myself gave me the platform to pledge my determination to find those responsible. I had no idea he had left the whole of Soyuz to his son. He had always said this was not an option for any of the oligarchs, as it would put their families in the crosshairs of the Kremlin and anarchist agents."

"Ok, very interesting. And now, the truth about the premature detonation of missile number three which ensured failure to affect the asteroid in any way?"

Kolorov once more looked Bondarenko full in the eyes and then folded his arms. "Your turn, Alexei. You must know more about that than I do. The only clue I can offer is that it was most probably set up before the fleet was launched and before Malenkov was killed. Which means you were still working for me. The little evidence I have uncovered indicates an I.T. oriented trigger. You have already admitted in front of Julien that you still had connections to Soyuz people from your safe house. You also seem to have a motive, if your story about being hunted by Russian operatives is true. You think it was me who betrayed you, but what would my motive be? If I had wanted you out of the way, it would never have been botched up like you say it was. Are you going to say something?"

*

Sophie was being prepped for her procedure. She looked at Eugene and apologised.

"I know I've been unreasonable lately, pushing continuously to have this treatment, but now that the time is here I'm scared."

"I hope you aren't going to change your mind about this, Sophie. We're all set to go. What's the problem?"

"I really want to get rid of being on the edge of depression all the time, it's a constant battle to stay on the bright side even though I'm doing well. I just worry that I'll wake up a different person after the treatment. I don't know if I want that."

"Listen, sis, think about it differently. The rest of us won't let you become a different person, nor will we put up with some of your unreasonable behaviour. It's going to be fine. However, if you decide to pull out now, don't ever raise the subject with me again."

"For hell's sake, you may be a top scientist, Eugene, but your bedside manner stinks."

"Sophie, you have to understand that I have to keep things in perspective. The talk we had yesterday about your insistence to involve the police in the missing papers is a perfect example. Although the thieves could be interested in a cure for mental and personality disorders in young people, it doesn't have the same gravitas as the main research I'm involved with. These people are driven by short term gains, and the asteroid has seriously reinforced this greed. The breakthrough for your condition was elusive and it came almost by accident, from a branch of the main research programme. The alteration of our physical capability to survive the aftermath of an impact is the real earner for the scum who took the papers. Ability to live with less oxygen, water, and other essentials are key to our future in such a scenario. Then there is the problem of our metabolism's resistance to radiation, and massive changes in temperature. For those individuals who survive the initial holocaust, these implanted genetic alterations could increase their chances of producing offspring with an outside chance of engaging in the age-old survival of the fittest once more. We can't trust the police or any other potentially corrupt organisation with this information. We just have to let the thieves try to sell whatever booty they can. It will take them best part of a month to find out they don't have the full picture. Now, let's do this procedure. You probably won't be so worried about the stolen papers when you wake up."

"And all this is supposed to calm me down. I think it's you who needs a personality transplant."

# Chapter 29

Since his observations regarding the current level of distrust between the former Russian inseparables, Julien Delacroix believed the deck was now stacked in his favour. When they reconvened he immediately upped the stakes.

"Ivan, I know you said you would need to consider all your options when we last met, but I'm afraid there is only one I'm prepared to offer. Do you have the deed of transfer of stock from Malenkov's son to you? Do you have it with you?"

"Maybe, I am really not sure. I can check later."

"No, I need to see it now otherwise the one option becomes no dice and this is over. Unfortunately, that means total disclosure of your closet of skeletons."

Bondarenko was just as nervous as Kolorov with this unexpected aggressive approach. He didn't want to accrete any collateral damage from his former friend's sacrifice. He was about to say something when Julien cut him off and demanded an answer from Kolorov.

"Yes or no, Ivan. It may lead to a complex decision for you but it is a simple question. You either have it with you or you don't."

"Yes, I have it with me, now what are you up..."

"Can I see it or not?"

"Just tell me why you want to see such a document."

"Last time we talked I made a suggestion, which according to Alexei here, would get you out from under a bad situation if you tried to offload the company back in Russia. So, in pursuing that possibility, I would have to check out the authenticity of the stock transfer from Malenkov junior to your good self."

The prolonged eye contact between the two Russians was curtailed by Julien.

"Look, you guys are going to have to put your little spat on the back burner if a solution is to be found which satisfies all three of us. I don't have time to indulge in this cat and mouse stuff. Show me the deed of transfer or get the hell back to Russia, both of you!"

Bondarenko rose to his feet and leaned over Kolorov until their faces touched.

"Show him the deed you fucking moron. There is nowhere to hide now, if you refuse, you won't even make it back to Russia, and that is a promise."

Kolorov stood up, backed away from the table, stared out of the office window and then slumped back into his chair.

"Ok, Julien, I will show you the transfer deed, but I want him out of here, now."

"Come on, Ivan, you know he works for me now. Even if he doesn't see the actual certification, I'll be telling him what is in there. Last chance, either give me what I want or I'll call a taxi to get you to the airport."

It was a very simple document, so brief in fact that Bondarenko said it would have to be verified by an independent source. Julien disagreed.

"I see that the young man received the sum of five million after deducting all legal expenses."

"That was all he wanted," said Kolorov, "he begged me to take it off his hands as quickly as possible."

"And the kind soul that you are, you found it easy to help the poor kid out. Well, that makes this discussion a hell of a lot easier. I'm going to suggest that you accept one hundred percent profit. But you have to split that with Alexei. Ten million is my one and only offer."

Again the two Russians looked at one another, this time it was confusion which hung in the air, rather than mutual contempt. Kolorov took back the document.

"You cannot be serious. I would be shot as soon as I set foot back in my country."

"But you won't be going back to your country if you accept my generous offer."

A sickly smile grew over Bondarenko's face. Julien continued.

"Your lawyer will come here. My offer is fully conditional upon you signing off in principle now, and ratification by your lawyer within one week, witnessed in this office by Alexei. Take it or leave it."

"And if I leave it?"

"Tomorrow, we, Alexei and I, release proof of your wrongdoings over the last few years and then throw you out into the streets of Guiana. I prefer to acquire Soyuz, but it isn't critical to my plan. Your fall from grace or worse is my second choice, but at least comes with a certain degree of satisfaction."

"Ok, but one final question."

"This is becoming tiresome. If I answer your question your agreement will be required now. No more playing for time. Now, understood?"

"Fine," scowled Kolorov, "if I do agree to your offer what do you propose to do with Soyuz?"

"It's more of a case of what you and Alexei do with Soyuz. That will be explained in due course. You will both work for me, and have distinct objectives. You won't evaporate into the mist. I need you both here."

"Ah, that does make a difference. Very well, I agree to the ten million, but only two and a half to go to Alexei. That is more than fair, as I already owe five with the loan to buy out Grigori Malenkov. That would mean we each pocket the same amount."

Julien looked at Bondarenko. A hesitant nod closed the discussion and a pre-contract was signed. Julien then announced that he would detail their respective remits the following day.

"I have to leave now to see my daughter, as she is about to undergo a medical procedure. It means you guys have all evening to forge a new relationship. I can't guarantee you will be able to avoid each other completely as you take up your new roles."

*

Eugene had decided to conduct the genetic snip and implant task in the evening. It enabled the required secrecy he insisted upon. Only two trusted assistants would remain in the centre with him for the three hour operation. Julien was to act as a sentry, ensuring that there would be no spectators. He entered the theatre to let Eugene know he'd checked out the rest of the building, and just as important, to reassure Sophie that they were all looking forward to her new beginning. He kissed her gently on the forehead. She was still apprehensive and he detected a tear creeping down the side of her cheek, but she squeezed his hand and managed a smile.

A different kind of anaesthetic was an essential part of such pioneering sub-micron surgery. Many of the normal brain functions had to be kept active and the actual 'interference' would be conducted by nanoprobes, assisted by neurologically instructed stem cells. Instead of the countdown from ten to unconsciousness with general anaesthetics, a derivative hallucinatory narcotic messenger was employed to tap into the mind-expanding capability of the patient.

Sophie remained conscious in the sense that her eyes were open throughout, and she became an interactive inhabitant of the normally closed world of rapid eye movement stasis. Without being able to converse with her brother, she was able to feel and touch thoughts. She was able to relate to the time taken for the procedure, in sharp contrast to conventional surgery, in which the subject could only account for beginning and end, even if a day had passed between the two. She was sure that the whole rollercoaster ride had taken less than thirty minutes, probably because the intensity of amplified thought worked in reciprocation with perceived thought, a variable in some equation of cerebral processing usage. Perhaps it could be analogous to 'automatic' or 'as required' turbo boost in the CPU of a computer.

As she gradually returned to conventional time and ocular appreciation, she began to elucidate on what she had 'seen'.

"Not yet, Sophie," whispered Eugene, "you have to rest first. Please just close your eyes for me and then we can talk."

She smiled continuously as she took the oral sedative and began to feel disoriented before she experienced total fatigue; she immediately began to snore as her chest heaved; it was so regular it could have been controlled by a metronome. Several hours after midnight she stirred and was then given assisted revival therapy. She no longer had the compulsion to describe what she'd 'seen' but hoped it might return in some form or another.

She was hungry, both for food and information.

"In good time, Sophie. Food we can do right now, the rest will depend on your reaction to our post-op tests. Then we need to get you home."

She nodded and smiled, although she was a little disappointed.

"Well, that's a good sign," enthused Eugene, "you've never really done polite, have you?"

*

Julien phoned ahead to tell Elise and Geraldine that Sophie was on her way back and the procedure had gone smoothly, but it would be some time before they could expect to see how successful it would be.

Dawn was creeping over the landscape, which was shrouded in mist. Julien went directly to the office, he'd never get to sleep after such an adrenaline-inducing night. He also had mist to disperse there with the Russians.

Bondarenko arrived first.

"I am having difficulty trying to understand your proposal for Kolorov to work with me. I am grateful for the offer to share the money which you will pay for Soyuz, but the trust is broken between Ivan and me. It will never come back."

"Good, I'm rather counting on that. Let's just wait until he arrives."

Twenty-five painful minutes passed before Kolorov made an appearance. He offered no apology, merely taking a seat alongside Julien, and opposite Bondarenko.

"Let me outline what is going to happen," stated Julien, "and as far as I'm concerned there is no alternative other than you guys simply walk out of here and I never set eyes on you again."

"You mean we do not have any say in how we would work for you?" queried Kolorov.

"You won't have any say in what we are seeking to achieve. You will have limited input on the manner in which we meet this objective, but you will have control over the finer details employed to get us over the line. I know it might come as a surprise that I want you to run Soyuz into the ground with as little fuss as possible."

The Russians displayed contrasting responses. Bondarenko burst out laughing and Kolorov shook his head in disbelief. But Julien continued.

"I have to eliminate any shred of potential interference with the launch of our diversion fleet. No matter whether it is accuracy, timing, payload, delivery trajectory, or technological monitoring of the asteroid itself, we must know as early as possible, the degree of success or failure we have achieved. All of the foregoing is dependent on ensuring zero sabotage. Both Kepler and the Soyuz nuclear force were shrouded in such speculation. Even the crew of Laika initially received orders to commit suicide, for no other reason than to provide early warning of success or failure – especially if it meant we were all going to die, and if so, exactly when. Surely that must strike you as strange. The only sense I could make out of this was that I was missing some critical piece of knowledge. The kind that may have actually made the asteroid more dangerous. So, gentlemen, I'd like to know precisely what I don't know, and at the same time devise a means of eliminating such a more complex threat. And then we must neutralise any conceivable action from past or present Soyuz personnel. Shutting it down is necessary."

Kolorov rose to his feet. "So, do you really have to ruin the company to achieve that? Jesus! I cannot see my government just standing back and watching it happen. Do you, Alexei?"

"He is right, Julien. They will not want to take it over, but it would cause a revolution if it was deliberately liquidated by a western competitor. It is still seen as the only hope the Russian people have of avoiding Armageddon, even though I accept it may be too late for Soyuz to prepare another credible attempt to bounce the asteroid to safety. We must not destroy all hope."

Julien pounded his fist on the solid oak desk.

"That's precisely the problem, Alexei. We have a world problem out there and a sectarian attitude to dealing with it. The damned asteroid isn't Russian, it's like cancer – totally indiscriminating in its victims. Now, listen carefully to me. Between you, there is an important piece of information which has miraculously failed to reach other world bodies which have been involved in either observation or deflection programmes, or both. Either start talking or take a hike back to the Motherland. By the time you get there the world will know everything about your CVs, including the censored bits."

Kolorov wanted written assurance that if he complied, he would never need to return to Russia.

"I want immunity, a new identity and a hermitage once this is over. If I do not get that, I will take my chances back home."

Bondarenko agreed with this counter-ultimatum. Julien smiled as he continued to press for them to blink first.

"You will have your guarantee in writing today, but it will not be signed by me until you both confirm there is a quantifiable risk in VB Aerospace deflecting the asteroid. And, that this is somehow connected to the Soyuz failure."

"That is acceptable," admitted Kolorov. "I signed my shares over to you in principle yesterday, without total confidence that you will hand over the money. That is what the lawyers are for. You have to reciprocate with this declaration. The detail comes later, but yes there is something you need to know."

It was agreed to reconvene after the initial letters were exchanged.

# Chapter 30

With the Russian lawyer on his way, Alexei Bondarenko insisted that they get everything agreed before he arrived.

"Ivan, you and I are the only ones who know what we are about to disclose to Julien. It has to stay that way. We must not include some mealy-mouthed lawyer in the revelation. You have to accept that over the years we are guilty of screwing with Julien, much more than the other way around. If this is going to work then we need to take the first step to level the playing field again."

There was no dissent. Julien suggested a better place than the office to hammer out the final details.

"I have a private secluded beach and the sea is very welcoming. If we adjourn to the cove we can be certain there are no prying eyes or ears. We dress only in shorts and that eliminates the possibility of being wired up with even tiny microphones. It's then down to the three of us."

They descended to the pink-hued sand and picked a spot which was out of the wind. Even the breakers seemed to respect their need to hear every syllable.

Kolorov jumped in first. "How do you expect to wreck Soyuz without drawing attention to the real reason for what is actually going on, if as you say, Bondarenko and I are the ones who are supposed to make it all happen?"

Julien cleared his throat. "I have studied your company accounts and balance sheet very thoroughly. It shows a clear trend of outsourcing tasks which are peripheral to the core activities of producing space-faring vessels, whether they be carriers of humans or warheads. So, we just continue that existing policy to the extreme. You already got out of fuel exploration and refining. You sub-contract all electronics research, you sold off interests in metallurgical development and specific alloys, and then there is the propulsion technology itself. You kept the fundamental aspects of new methods in house, but the rest was specified to suppliers to produce a base template for Soyuz internal modification. It's a rather short-sighted policy, but it has streamlined the operation in terms of direct labour, and increased your apparent net worth. Now, after the lawyer ratifies the takeover, I have every right to continue that policy. The fact that the acquisition includes the services of the two of you is contractual, and you can't be blamed if I insist on pursuing such a 'successful' strategy. Once we've achieved the absolute maximum focus on core technologies, we begin to deliberately piss off the suppliers to the point that they consider pulling out. By that time I hope you have both become different, reclusive people. I will then report that you were fired for resisting my direct orders."

This final assurance was well-received by the Russians, allowing Julien to continue.

"Of course this is all subject to what you are about to reveal to me. So, make it good."

Bondarenko urged Kolorov to begin.

"You touched earlier on the ludicrous instruction of Malenkov, that of asking Kuznetsov to abandon Mars and track the nuclear fleet. I argued with him to the point of becoming dispensable. I knew it was purely for his own benefit. He wanted the same thing as you do – realistic early warning of potential failure. He was already a marked man in Russia, but in holding the hopes of human salvation in his hands he became temporarily untouchable. If the strike fleet failed he would have to get out of the country quickly. He had to have advance warning of such failure, so that he could command a place on the next Mars vessel, which was being prepared for exactly that contingency. He seemed to prefer choking, starving or freezing to death on another planet than falling into the clutches of those who had been after him for years. His decision to intimidate Captain Kuznetsov turned out to be ill-advised. She outsmarted him and myself, first refusing to lead her crew to their almost certain death, and then by convincing us that she had found a better way to do as she had been asked. When I realised what she was actually doing I knew I would have to get rid of Malenkov. It seemed to have worked when Alexei killed him and shot me, but the relief was fleeting. Kuznetsov reported that their scanners had picked up a terrifying variation in composition of the asteroid. Laika was still a long way from the target but from their vantage point there was no mistake regarding the implications. There were two previously unobserved areas which were extremely loosely held in place by the rest of the rock. They were cometary in nature, and they thought it would need only minimal force to cause separation from the parent. I told Kuznetsov that I had never agreed with Malenkov and she should get the hell out of there. When Alexei and I ran thousands of simulations of when and where to detonate whichever warhead we chose, the answer was the same. The alternatives of blowing the entire mass to pieces or trying to shift the same mass just would not compute with any reliability, because of the number of unknown variables. There was no formula to deal with seriously haphazard fragmentation. Whereas, gently blowing the parent off course would potentially leave at least the two cometary bodies on collision course with Earth. We seemed to have no choice, and although Alexei urged me to contact you, I chose to detonate warhead three prematurely. It took out the others and was early enough to avoid disturbance of the asteroid. The real pisser is that even now it is not possible to observe the embedded comet fragments, as the angular spin of the parent has changed and we are in the wrong place to detect them. Kuznetzov gave us the warning but we did not have the required capability to conduct microsurgery on a cosmic body at such a distance. I am afraid you will confirm this when the asteroid gets closer to your point of deflection. Either or both of the cometary pieces could produce minor extinction events as a result of their own behaviour, if they manage to separate from the asteroid of their own accord. That isn't the end of the really bad news, the collision which embedded them in the asteroid has created multiple fault lines in the parent. Knowing this means we then cannot rule out the parent splitting up if the two cometary chunks do break free during the remainder of the journey. Sorry, Julien. I am afraid I did not have the guts to tell the world."

They decided against going for a swim. Julien asked them to return with him to his office.

"This explanatory sequence takes a bit of swallowing. However, even if it is absolutely true we can't just back off and do nothing. Look, what we have already agreed still stands. We work together on whatever we can in the VB Aerospace deflection programme, but we now have even more cause to bury your involvement in the Soyuz deception. This is our last roll of the dice and we have a little less than two years to refigure how to prepare for a multi-fragment situation, whether we cause it or it just develops without a strike."

*

Sophie didn't feel any different. She wanted to know when the magic bullet would flip her to Sophie MK 2. Eugene was now the one whose patience was becoming frayed. Elise and Geraldine were almost as bad as the patient in wanting to know what they should look for and what they should not say to her during the coming days. Eugene decided to lecture them together.

"This treatment isn't comparable to lancing a gumboil or physiotherapy prior to fitting a prosthetic limb, it's a bloody genetic modification. It will, like all genetic structures, react to environment. It will be a gradual process in some ways, but what we can reasonably expect is a moderation in response to certain stimuli experienced by Sophie. She should feel less depressed when some of those stimuli come her way, and that can happen relatively quickly. Other things, such as not wanting her own way all of the time should take longer, and we can help by not pandering to her every comment, even the current one of not feeling any different. Sophie, you were worried about waking up a different person, well you have, but you also have a part to play in how different that will be. Think of it as one of your artistic creations, not perfect first time around, but more blank canvas to work with. Go with the flow a little and see where that takes you. Stop obsessing, I can see by the cynical expression on your face that you know what I mean. That's progress, speaking of which, I really have to get back to the research centre. There are some unpleasant things I have to take care of as soon as possible. Chin up, sis, and don't relapse into leading mum and auntie by the nose, you have to redefine your default attitudes to a lot of situations. I want a new painting for my quarters, get started with it."

"Ok Dr Frankenstein, I hear you, even if I'm not feeling well."

"Yes you are, no bullshit, no violins, and no excuses. You owe me one."

"What subject matter did you have in mind?"

"Whatever is in your mind right now would be fine, see, that wasn't so hard. Surprise me."

She asked Elise to wheel her to her studio and give her a couple of hours of uninterrupted solitude. Sophie had to admit she was calmer inside, but fearful that it would only be temporary.

A week on, she had unveiled Eugene's surprise and the feeling of giving was matched by his appreciation. He said all the post-op tests were on target and she should begin to participate in wider circles of friends, to reach out from the family, starting with Reuben.

"He will be a good barometer for you, Sophie. He's good for you, totally laid back but not family. Go and see him. He's been asking about you."

# Chapter 31

The lawyer had come and gone, and although he was utterly confused by the instructions he'd been given, there was one above all others which he would respect. There would be consequences if he ever disclosed anything which did not appear in the official paperwork. The sale to a foreign competitor had to be perceived as a result of pure intransigence by the Russian state in terms of acquiring the company. Bondarenko felt the anarchists, mafia, and the rest of the populous would buy into this because it was true. He also expected it would trigger an obligatory cull by the heavyweights in government, apportioning blame to others in the lower levels of the pecking order. They would have to spend much of their time distancing themselves from such accusation by sacrificing 'irresponsible' subordinates. Blood-letting could always be relied upon to assist in smoothing over public unrest.

Julien was less interested in the reaction of the Russian populous than extracting the entire truth from his new henchmen.

"Well Gentlemen, that takes care of step one. How about giving me the full story?"

"What? What do you mean by that?" said Bondarenko.

"Actually, I was talking to Ivan."

Kolorov feigned confusion.

"I'm talking about the period after Alexei was shuffled off to his not so safe house. He wasn't there to hear the full extent of your reasoning in authorising Kuznetzov to return. You see, Ivan, I can't figure out why you destroyed the nuclear strike force and then did nothing. I know it has to do with your own survival but I just can't make the link."

Kolorov shifted uneasily in his chair, gesturing in Russian. All of a sudden Bondarenko began to mentally retrace events around that time. Julien probed again.

"I can imagine that you had some moral conviction with respect to saving Laika's crew, but it would have to fit with other concerns you might have. That decision alone would not have calmed all of the turbulent waters. Need I remind you that the money won't be transferred to accounts in your homeland? It was for your own protection that new accounts were set up here. My bank will not action the transfer until they receive ratification of the asset registry from your lawyer, and he can't do that by anything other than a fully certified bill of sale. I can still opt out of our little plot, so please think hard about my question. You see, I'm puzzled as to why you didn't turn around the missiles and save them for a last ditch strike just as we are doing. I could even understand you taking the risk of allowing them to carry on as planned, despite what Kuznetsov had found. I can only conclude that she had decided to come home anyway, disregarding Malenkov's orders, and that meant you had to deal with what she would reveal when she got back. Forgive me, Ivan, but you are running low on credibility. What do you think, Alexei?"

"I am trying to recall the order of events at the time, but you are right about Kuznetsov. She was in a strong position with what she discovered and she could not be prevented from returning home. That was all made easier by me killing Malenkov. After my own disappearance I only have second-hand knowledge of what exchanges took place between Kuznetsov and Ivan. What else did she find? Only the two of them know."

"Ivan," murmured Julien, "do we contact Kuznetsov?"

"You can, but she would only tell you what I have explained. She agreed to that if I was prepared to forget any insinuation of mutinous actions on her part. Even though Malenkov was pig-headed in his handling of the fiasco, the captain is obliged to go down with the ship if it is for the greater good. She is now a senior advisor to the Russian government in their fight against the anarchists. She will not talk."

"Well then, that just leaves you. When you hunt with sharks you need to be aware that you can be hunted by sharks. I'll have no hesitation in biting off your balls. You have two minutes to fill in the gaps."

Fresh coffee was brought in and a comfort break preceded a nervous outburst by Kolorov.

"It is a lot worse than you can imagine. The asteroid has a far greater orbit around the sun than the Earth. If we hypothetically accept that it could have polar axial rotation, it fits with Kuznetsov's data. The spin at our north and south poles confers less relative change of position to the sun than at the equator, hence seasons of constant day or night. The tilt of the 'poles' of the asteroid is such that in its long seasonal shift, we could not observe these regions from our vantage point. When Kuznetsov approached its trajectory from a different observational position she could see what we could not. Yesterday I mentioned two cometary bodies which were embedded in the parent. These are not observable by our equipment, as they are at the rear and in one of the 'polar' regions of the asteroid. The problem Kuznetzov discovered is manifold in its implications. Although the cometary fragments are clinging on to the rock, the amplitude of movement is increasing and it looks like they will not survive the journey to our atmosphere. Then there is the legacy they will leave. If they dislodge themselves, the fault lines they created upon their initial impact, are highly likely to open, according to Kuznetsov. In fact it seems that they are actually acting as the cement which is holding the entire asteroid together. The calculations which Alexei and I did together before he went AWOL showed that by our nuclear intervention, we would indeed deliver a multiplicity of marauders without any quantification of what that would mean. On the other hand, if the cometary chunks squirm loose on their own, and because they are fizzing around the 'rear pole' they would not be expected to be slung into a very different trajectory to the main body. However, the threat of the parent then splintering of its own accord remains as a probability rather than a possibility. I took the decision to let things develop until we could at least make an educated guess if the asteroid was likely to make it in one piece, beyond other areas of gravitational or collision influence. To sit tight until it had a clear path, a considerable distance Earth-side of the asteroid belt. The call I made about not bringing the nuclear warheads back was a political one, advised by 'influential' people whose names I would never disclose. It was a risky task, apart from admission of failure, how would we dock them safely? It would have caused consternation about the real agenda possibly being Russian aggression, opportunism with the threat of an extinction event as the justification. All bullshit of course, but world wars have ignited with far more benign provocation. Anyway, detonating the warhead gave them the way out, entirely accidental neutralisation of a salvation mission. A brave attempt gone wrong was a preferable outcome to these people; preferable to the alternative of being strung up in Red Square. I immediately began work on creating a second strike force, and that is being done as we speak. It is happening in a secret location and you may want to preserve it. Actually, it may already be too late. Because, even as we speak, it is no longer possible to observe the cometary chunks the way Kuznetsov did. Now you have my complete bundle of deceptions out in the open. Perhaps you wish that this pile of shit had not fallen into your lap."

*

Two days on and the money had been transferred and the reaction of Soyuz having a foreign owner was percolating throughout Russia. Julien had been looking for inspiration following Kolorov's final soul-bearing act.

Bondarenko was keen to get on with whatever was to be done and suggested to his new boss that it might be better for him to help in brainstorming the mind-boggling complexity of addressing the new situation with all things asteroid. More imprecise juggling of equations and the new variables therein.

"Kolorov knows the Soyuz operational stuff much better than I do, but by his own words he has virtually given up on the asteroid, so why not let him get on with putting the skids under the company."

"That would have been my leaning if we had more time, Alexei, but his latest revelations changes everything. I still don't trust him. I want you to find out where this secret nuclear force is being assembled. I won't be letting Ivan out of my sight, so I'll keep him busy with our scientists in looking at anything we can do to obtain more data on the composition and cohesion of the asteroid. I have to share his assertions with some of my team if we're to have real unity in defeating a common foe. That's what we have, even though this new unpredictability we are supposed to believe comes from the lips of a pathological liar. The ripples of fantasy have already emerged. One of the juniors asked if we could ride the asteroid with a device which sends data back. It has been done before about twenty years ago, but we don't have enough time, yet I suppose that's the kind of lateral thinking we need to channel into our discussions in the next few weeks. See what you can get out of Ivan about this secret missile construction location, then I'll consider how best you can use your time with us."

*

In the face of missing a trick, Julien took the agonising decision to move over fifty percent of his technical staff to the think tank. His reasoning was as simple as the problem was complex. The constraint of time was absolutely dominant. He would not flinch from the continual monitoring and the resulting endless calculations of the big picture. Any minute changes in the asteroid's path was still crucial in choosing the launch time of his vanguard of deflection missiles. However, he accepted that could be all undone by the rock cracking up of its own accord. There would be a cut-off point in terms of time if alternative feasible means of mounting a counter-strategy to such bad fortune did not materialise. He also took the unprecedented step of informing all observatories and governments of the refocus of resource without touching on political overlays. He was championing for togetherness in sharing all observations all of the time. He closed this request with a promise to spell out his intentions for Soyuz at a later date.

Meanwhile, Bondarenko had to resort to sacrificial blackmail to get Kolorov to cough up the location of the emergency assembly of the second Soyuz asteroid killer force. He threatened to fly to Moscow and confess to the murder of Malenkov, and having been forced to shoot Kolorov during the same incident to give him an alibi. It had leverage, if only in the sense that Bondarenko had already proven to be much more ruthless than Julien.

The underground complex was deep into Siberian wastelands. He was given the name of the Plant Director and how to contact him on a secure line. Armed with this, he duly informed Julien. They pondered over how to hook into what was actually going on at the location. They came down on the side of getting the top man over to meet the new owners of Soyuz, at their HQ in Guiana, under the guise of a long-awaited and hard-earned reward for his outstanding service in Siberia - a vacation in the Caribbean, where he would be collected and enlightened with the new strategic direction of the company.

# Chapter 32

Part Four: Pendulum

2038

A crumb of comfort, or the beginning of a slide to impotence? The Chilean observatory had redirected one of its probes which had been monitoring the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. It became a salutary lesson in a divided world. An oasis of trust in a desert of secrecy.

The probe was unable to land on or even reach the asteroid, nevertheless it had managed to find coordinates with a perfect view of its 'tail'. The grainy images had to be enhanced and analysed carefully. The comfort quickly ebbed away. One cometary fragment had clearly detached itself already. At the time the image was transmitted, it was only a short distance from the parent body. Yet it was following on, as a new-born would trail its mother. The nest which it had occupied was leaking matter in the form of a gaseous or dust trail. Twelve days after this discovery it was reported that the cracks in the empty nest were widening, marginally but inexorably.

Ironically, Ivan Kolorov felt he had been vindicated, by his foresight leading up to the decision to allow the asteroid to march unhindered past the debris of his nuclear fleet. This was seen by both Julien and Bondarenko as a premature and scandalous claim.

"You were only thinking of protecting your own arse," barked Bondarenko, "even now you are in denial. You disgust me."

"Ok, Alexei," said Julien, "I understand your feelings, but the task ahead of us has now altered and we just have to start all over again. The next few weeks will be absolutely crucial. We only have this information because others were prepared to set aside their personal objectives. We have to do the same. I want to run over Ivan's calculations again, those he did after you left Russia. Perhaps we can take one of the variables out – the possibility that the asteroid would arrive at our door with both cometary chunks in place and then confront the atmosphere with no developing or gaping cracks in the parent. I want to concentrate on this new scenario: it's factual and with more incoming information, we will have more data on mass and homogeneity of all components."

The possible outcomes proved to be manifold and the majority were pessimistic. Some were considered to be unthinkable, and even filtering out these unacceptable candidates produced a short list of unpredictable options. The three of them eventually agreed that they had to deploy both the VB Aerospace and secret Soyuz nuclear fleet to strike the rock between Mars orbit around the sun and the inner boundary of the asteroid belt. The two fleets would need to be ready at the same time, but one would launch a week in advance of the other. They hoped rather than expected that they would have more hard data to evaluate before considering any modification of this intercept plan. They wanted to know whether the rock had shed more components, if and when the cracks in the parent were likely to fail, and crucially, precisely when the first fleet had to be deployed. Holding the second fleet back until there was more information on these issues was thought to be essential.

A corollary to this plan was to upgrade the urgency of getting the Siberian supremo to Guiana.

*

Sophie was making great strides, being more self-aware of how demanding she could be. She could feel her ability to apply a brake to her mood swings, without having a clue as to how she could do this, especially as it was happening with virtually no effort or indecision. Like riding a bike, she could go for days on end without the onset of a tantrum, and when the slippery slope presented itself, she knew how to 'ride' it out by instinct rather than memory recall or advice from others.

She did, however, retain her penchant for inflicting surprise on those around her. The latest shock for the family was her casual announcement that she was now married to Reuben.

"I had to explain to him that we didn't need a religious ceremony or any other kind of blessing. We just exchanged vows of our own, and so there we are, we've done it. We will be having a simple party to acknowledge our union. Reuben has never been able to trace any of his siblings and detests his uncle, so he is happy to make do with our family. Why are you all gaping like goldfish?"

Tears of joy trickled down the cheeks of Elise and Geraldine, Julien felt a rush of pride mixed with relief that he could see himself spending less time worrying about his daughter. He liked Reuben and admired the young man's stabilising effect on her condition. The wistful look on Eugene's face disguised the immense pride that enveloped him when his sister thanked him for 'fiddling' with her temperamental 'voltage regulator' and vowed to support his work by helping others with such issues. The evening concluded with Reuben joining the rest of them. All in all, it was quite an emotional gathering, and for a few hours there was no talk or thought about the impending outcome of the asteroid killer programme.

*

The two Russians were nervous about the proposed visit of the Siberian missile supremo. Bondarenko said he wasn't needed for such discussions as his expertise lay elsewhere, and anyway he wanted to remain under the radar. Kolorov expressed the same concern about a face-to-face meeting with someone who could tip off the Russian Mafia with regard to his whereabouts. He pointed out to Julien that part of the deal was for both of them to become invisible. Totally out of character, Julien grabbed Kolorov by the throat, purely out of frustration that this man was at it yet again. He then suddenly calmed down, breathed slowly and deeply, while glancing at Bondarenko. All he saw was genuine fear. He pushed Kolorov so hard that he staggered backwards and as he lost his balance his head struck the corner of the solid wooden table. Bondarenko rushed to his aid but his countryman was already unconscious.

"Sorry about that, Alexei. You'd better call our medical man. Just tell your compatriot when he recovers consciousness that you're both off the hook. I'll speak with Sergei Kaputin alone. I've been told he is already on his way. Just get this Rasputin out of my face.

*

The man from Siberia was not exactly what Julien Delacroix had imagined him to be. Very tall, skeletally thin with an extremely severe twentieth century American GI crew cut. The man was visibly uncomfortable, his constant blinking was accompanied by a nervous twitch in his upper lip. The yellow-brown fingers of his right hand seemed to suggest a chain smoker. Even this first impression didn't prepare his host for what was to come.

"Welcome to Guiana, Sergei. Please take a seat. Would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee please, black."

Julien's PA acknowledged and left the office.

"You've had a long journey so I'll try to keep things short and sweet on your first day here. I had to ask you to come all this way because there are the issues of change of ownership and future plans to discuss. I take it that the Soyuz Head Lawyer has briefed you about my takeover of the company?"

An apprehensive nod and a dry cough was the only response.

"Ok, good. Now I want to reassure you that your position is safe for now. By that I mean in the same way we are all worried about what is to come in 2039. That is in fact the only reason I had to speak with you urgently. I need a comprehensive update on the status of the nuclear fleet you were asked to build by the former owner of Soyuz."

Another nod and a twitch of the lip.

"We can get to the detail later, but I would like to hear when the missiles will be ready. I have to fit their availability with the ones we are preparing. I realise the software installation and its programming must be considered separately because we still have to decide on certain sequences of the operation."

Kaputin's reaction was one of total confusion.

"I am sorry, sir. I do not understand what you ask. The missiles have been ready for some months now. I thought you must know this."

"I see. Well, let's just back up a little. Are you saying that the former owner, Ivan Kolorov, has known this for weeks?"

"Of course. He instructed me to work to his plans. I have no contact with other departments in Soyuz. Mr Kolorov even made all arrangements for deliveries to our factory. The location and purpose had to remain secret. Everything was controlled by him. The suppliers were never allowed to know about each other and every item had to go through a warehouse in Irkutsk. Onward transport to the assembly line was by road trucks. The paperwork indicated they were for aircraft construction."

"Sorry, just a minute, are you telling me that these missiles could be launched now?"

"Yes. When Mr Kolorov first appointed me, I told him that it was not possible to make these missiles in the time he gave me. But you must know he is a propulsion expert, and he said it could be done if we built them to his new design."

"New design? What exactly is this new design?"

"He said that without the needs of a manned craft, it was possible to simplify the construction. Without having to consider life support, artificial gravity, all kinds of consumables, sanitation, habitat, and many more things, we could concentrate simply on the task to get warheads to the required point of detonation. The key is in the propulsion system. I hope you will not ask me to explain how it works. He personally supervised the installation of that phase. I was responsible for having the carcases and the warheads ready. I was not allowed to ask too many questions and his people fitted the integration software. So, they are ready. If they will ever get out of Earth gravity? I could not tell you. He is a brilliant man, and a very confident one, but I am not sure if this system of his has been fully tested in practice. How could you do that without anyone knowing?"

Julien looked to the heavens and uttered several expletives.

"Where is Mr Kolorov now?" asked Julien.

"I have no idea. Nobody else seems to know. I have been concerned because only he has the launch and detonation codes for these missiles. We are sitting in Siberia without having any control over these things. Personally, I have thought about putting them into a state of temporary decommissioning."

"Ok, Sergei. Let's not jump too far ahead. I suggest you stay at my house rather than a hotel. We have lots of spare space, so you can have privacy. I can see you are suffering from jet lag and you should get some sleep. The rest of our talks can wait until tomorrow."

Sergei Kaputin felt sudden relief, without really knowing why. They left the office together.

# Chapter 33

Bondarenko answered his mobile. "Julien, I have been trying to reach you, we have a serious situation. Ivan has been taken to the company medical facility. The specialist there said that apart from acute concussion, he has to perform a scan for signs of any bleeding from the brain. I asked when he expected Ivan to become conscious again, but he either could not or would not say. We can expect the results of the scan anytime soon."

"Shit. What a bloody mess. You mean he has been unconscious all this time?"

"No, he seemed to have recovered not long after you left to meet Kaputin, but then he suffered some kind of aftershock while the first doctor was examining him. It was not exactly a full-blown seizure according to the Doc, he said it was some kind of mild reaction to the trauma, I cannot remember the word. That is when Ivan was transferred to this medical ward. He has been completely unresponsive, you know, out of it for several hours now. About the only good news is that they have checked his reflexes with needles and electrical stuff, and it seems like he still reacts to such stimuli. The brain specialist seems hopeful but will not say more until he is sure there has been no cerebral bleed. Are you coming here? I think you should. This could mean your plans have to be revised."

"Yes, ok, I'm on my way, Alexei. We can talk when I get there. My plans might have had to be altered anyway. See you in a few minutes."

*

Day by day, Sophie's confidence grew. She was able to see things, rather than feel them. Things which had always made her uncertain about how to deal with them. It was as though the visualisation process could be engaged to rationalise the prior physical and emotional link, thus enabling indirect control. Eugene was overjoyed.

"Sophie, I'm so impressed that I now feel I can spend all of my available time to take the implications of this research into the next phase – increasing the robustness of human physiology to harmful environmental forces such as radiation, toxic gases, bacterial and viral mutation, and not least - lower prevailing temperatures. It's testimony to your transition, you've amazed all of us with the courage you've shown through all of this, with a lot of support from Reuben. So, what's next for you?"

"We've both talked this through, but I'd still like to hear what you think of my new idea. You know I've been helping other people in a small way by talking them through my own battles against depression. It has been similar to the way Dr Villeneuve originally set up sessions for me when I first arrived in Guiana. Well, I want to do more. And I'd like to help with your dedication, Eugene. I was going to ask dad if he would consider building an extension to the medical facility for any people needing post-procedural care after you've treated them. Not just for my type of 'alteration', but some of the experimental ones you've just mentioned, you know, physiological changes. Reuben would like us to do this together, and maybe recruit more experienced staff to keep us on the right track. We can't divide our time and effort too much if we're going to make a real difference, especially in the short time we have before we know the score with the asteroid. Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Actually, Sophie, I think it's a fantastic idea. I'm totally lost for words. I could never have predicted you would be prepared to forego your return to your passion in the arts world to take on such a selfless challenge. When you pitch your idea to dad, you can tell him I'm one hundred percent behind you. I've always loved you, sis, but I haven't always liked you, if that makes sense. Anyway, it looks like those days are gone, just go for it. Look, I'm sorry that I have to leave now, I would like to hear more of how you see this recovery wing being set up. Maybe I can when you and Reuben have cleared this with dad."

She shed a few tears of joy as her brother was leaving, and the poignant moment prevailed for some time. She had never experienced such tangible closeness with her brother before.

*

Kolorov was still unconscious, but the scans had not detected any bleeding in his brain. There was some concern over the slight swelling within the cavity and this was being addressed with some urgency.

"Alexei, I don't know what got into me, well that's not entirely true, I reacted to the feeling that he was screwing with me yet again. So, what can we expect next?"

"It is hard to say, because the consultant never gives too much away. You should speak with him, after all, he bloody well works for you. I have got to admit I have mixed feelings. Ivan has always had a tendency to shit on people, sometimes just because he can. Until I took the blame for his latest misdemeanour, I fooled myself into thinking I would never be on the receiving end of his deceit, simply because I cleaned up his shit for years. I can understand why you lost it with him, Julien, he was biting the helping hand which you offered him. If I am honest, I wonder if it would not be better for him to just drift away."

"That's exactly how I felt. However, Sergei Kaputin did have a difficult job explaining his secret remit, but it has forced me to change my mind. Sergei is nothing short of a nervous wreck working for Kolorov, but he is honest about the pressure he was under and consequently revealed a serious problem. It would still have been a problem if Kolorov was conscious, but it becomes a real game-changer if he doesn't recover."

"I cannot follow you, maybe it is my English?"

"No, your English is fine, Alexei. It's Kolorov, he's the only person who knows the launch and detonation codes for the missiles."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course, I wouldn't joke about something like that."

Bondarenko laughed out loud.

"Relax, Julien. Remember, I am an IT expert. I know how these codes are constructed and how they can be cracked. But in this case maybe we do not need to do that. We can just replace the hardware and embed our own codes. When are the missiles supposed to be ready?"

"They already are, according to Kaputin."

"What? Oh, well that is a pisser. It means we have to be extremely careful when disconnecting the engineering interfaces. When did you want to launch them?"

"Pretty much as soon as we can. I want to keep our own fleet as a second strike force. In any case, we can't wait too long because we have to get them to confront the rock just inside the asteroid belt. You can do the maths once Kaputin gives us the data on the velocity capability of this new propulsion system."

"What new propulsion system?"

"No idea, he just said that Kolorov took care of that, supposedly because that's his speciality."

"I find that hard to believe. He is a propulsion guru, but simply a theorist, not a hands on guy. I should speak with Kaputin in Russian, there must have been an army of technicians who know how the propulsion system works. Ivan could never have kept this a secret. Let us get Kaputin in here immediately."

"But, both you and Kolorov wanted to avoid having to meet with him."

"I know, any contact with Russia is risky, Soyuz in particular, but this is really important. Kaputin has never met me, he was recruited after I tried to disappear. Just introduce me as your interpreter, to make sure there is no semantic misunderstanding when we ask him to get the drawings sent here by his chief technician. I do not want to go there, but I still have contacts who can comment on the design, and the propulsion system drawings, unless you want your own people to look them over. How do you want to play this?"

"Well, at this stage, I'd prefer to keep any revolutionary propulsion technology in house. Ok, let's get Kaputin in here."

# Chapter 34

Out in the echoless vastness, the world of the unknown carried on with supreme indifference. Cataclysmic events were the stuff of both destruction and creation. Cosmic equations and their relevance or invalidity were of no consequence to the asteroid, or any other form of matter in the universe. But that did not rule out change, whether or not they were predicted by the very same equations.

The Chilean probe forwarded one such change, one of immense interest. A clear pattern had emerged. The invisible umbilical between the asteroid and the detached cometary body was lengthening. The reason was not obvious at first, but further filtration of the images indicated that the cracks in the parent were ever so slightly wider. It was therefore postulated that the matter which was pouring out from the cracks, whether gaseous or granular, was conferring power to the tail. Even minute alterations of this nature would make it increasingly difficult for the infant to keep up. There was apparently no divergence of course of the struggling fragment; it was simply undergoing diminishing gravity from its mother. Enter the cosmologists. A whole new set of equations were required to predict if and when the parent would orphan the child. Such estimates were felt to be important, even if the purveyors were denuded of some of the variables, such as very accurate but uneven composition. Handicaps of this nature had never deterred the self-proclaimed experts, they would have to work out all combinations and permutations. Another complexity for VB Aerospace to digest.

*

As Sophie strolled through the grounds of their estate, she caught sight of her mum and Geraldine beavering away with garden implements. When she was within earshot of their conversation, she began to wonder if she should retreat. Elise caught sight of her and beckoned her to come closer.

"Hello, darling. Maybe you can settle this little disagreement we're having. Geraldine favours stone planters to define this section of the shrubbery, but I was leaning more towards box hedging. What do you think?"

"Actually, Mum, I was about to ask you and Geraldine about an idea I had. I'd temporarily forgotten about the passion you both have for landscaping. Anyway, as a sculptor of no repute, I suppose I would go with the stone planters."

"You would? Well, perhaps you're right. So, what is this idea you wanted to tell us about?"

"Perhaps it's a bit premature, and you've got your hands full with horticulture. It would be selfish of me to try to rope you both into some fanciful project of mine. Another time might be better."

"Well, you can at least tell us what it is," said Geraldine, "we do this landscaping as therapy really. It helps to keep us fit, and make a difference. Your dad and your brother work so hard, and so have you on the building projects, which are for the benefit of all of us. I'm all ears."

When Sophie had explained her intention to ask her father to approve her new aftercare medical centre, there was silence for a few seconds and the two sisters stared at one another. Then Elise spoke.

"You mean you want us to help by working there?"

"Like I said, I had forgotten you already had more than enough to do without me roping you into what could be an emotionally difficult role of putting up with people's tantrums of the kind I used to have. I just wanted sufferers with similar problems to have the same chance Eugene has given me."

Elise and Geraldine reacted as one, throwing down their weeding forks and rushed to Sophie's side. Untypically, Geraldine got in first.

"I've always wanted to do something to help people less fortunate than myself, but I've never had the confidence to do anything about it. If you are serious about wanting me to do this, it would make whatever time we have left much more worthwhile. Count me in."

Elise's eyes filled up. "If it hadn't been for you, I might not have been here, never mind to have a perfect means to say thank you, in a way which isn't just about words. I never thought I'd have the chance to do it for such a good cause. Come here, Sophie. We'll make a great team, but we'll need to enrol for proper training. Have you thought about that?"

"I have asked Dr Villeneuve for her advice, and she has recommended a colleague from France to get us up to speed. She said this man could be open to managing the unit and designing our training regime. He specialises in personality disorder analysis and treatment, and this kind of expertise could also be useful for Eugene's research. I'm so excited, and now I feel ready to pester dad."

*

Julien looked up from his tablet. He'd been studying the latest Chilean images of the asteroid's tail. The expression on Bondarenko's face was not one of unbridled joy.

"Ivan's condition is unchanged, but the doctors cannot agree on what to do next. The brain specialist wants to wait another couple of days to see if the pressure begins to recede further. Dr Villeneuve, I am told she is his boss, says he should operate now to relieve the pressure before it is too late. Do you think it is worth the risk to operate now, Julien? We need him to wake up, even if it is just to tell us the codes for the missiles. Can we tell the doctors how important this is for the entire world?"

"I don't think that's wise. I wouldn't put it past that bastard Kolorov to give us any old data, insisting they are the codes. Even that would assume he can remember them. Surely they aren't just in his head and nowhere else, he must have made a copy."

"Well, Kaputin is not aware of any copy. I spoke to him about the new propulsion system and he has asked the chief technician to transmit drawings of everything. We should receive them on our system within one hour."

"So, even in his mother tongue, Kaputin doesn't know how to describe the principle of the propulsion system? How can that be?"

"That I can answer. He was appointed by Kolorov as nothing more than a slave-driver. His remit was to keep everything on schedule, and rule by fear. Typical of Ivan, he never allowed any of his subordinates to know the whole story. But this is a step too far, Kaputin is technically illiterate, yet completely intolerant of excuses for failing to be on schedule. This makes me suspicious, the factory is in one of the most inhospitable places on Earth, and still the workers have been prepared to work there without a break for almost two years. Is this really just a second shot at the asteroid? We really need the brain specialist to wake Ivan."

*

Eugene couldn't quite believe what he was being told. One of most promising researchers was almost incoherent with excitement.

"Just back up and slow down," urged Eugene, "you think we can learn from a naturally occurring virus in terms of copying its mechanism, and then steering it in another direction?"

"Yes sir, the inclusion of this approach was a bit of a stab in the dark, but it looks as if we may be able to harness the ability of this virus to trick our immune system. It's only a first step on the road to success, but it gets us past the first hurdle. If we can alter the virus while it is 'undercover' so to speak, we can possibly install attributes into an organism which is capable of multiple ways of affecting human behaviour, through our own metabolism and DNA."

"And precisely how did you stumble on this?"

"Well, it was a random thought at first. I was reading about the Zika virus epidemic way back in 2015. The peculiar way in which it affected the unborn foetus fascinated me. It was a tragedy, causing monstrous physical deformation amongst other problems. I wondered if I could engineer helpful tasks for the virus to take on. The initial step was to follow up on the methodology of those who worked on treatment of the condition, and then the virus mutation, which in some cases still managed to eradicate the patients. So far, I can only claim that I have produced several specimens in which the virus can be rendered neutral, but remains within the host like a man on the run from the law-enforcing cells of the patient. I hope this is sufficiently interesting to attract more investment. I'm relatively confident I can now redirect this virus."

"I see, well, in that case I need you to write this up immediately, don't miss out any detail, but let's cut back a little on the enthusiastic projections. I will have a lot of questions, so make sure you can replicate what you have already found. You've got my attention. Well, get back to the lab and tell your people I'm quietly impressed. Let me have a copy as soon as possible."

*

Bondarenko, Julien, and VB Aerospace's chief propulsion technologist pored over the Soyuz drawings. The latter nodded his head but scratched his bearded chin at the same time.

"This is based on a well-accepted ratio of power to weight when calculating maximum velocity capability of propulsion systems in space. For example, in theory at least, a one-to-one ratio - 1 KW of power delivered by a propulsion device weighing 1 KG, could get a craft to Mars in little over a month."

The other two gestured that they knew this.

"But that has never been done," said Julien, "in fact the nearest I can recollect is a minimum of 3 KG being required for a unit to deliver for 1 KW of power, am I right?"

The chief propulsion technologist agreed.

"Indeed, that is the best ever produced until now. However, that was targeted to get humans to Mars. Missiles are different insofar as the weight can be trimmed by omitting any requirements for humans. They only need to be as heavy as the actual power source plus carcass and systems control equipment. In the case of missiles, there is no need for observational and scientific apparatus. I'm looking here at a VASIMR concept. You know what that is, right?"

"I think so, but remind me in layman's terms," said Julien.

"Variable Specific Impulse Magnetoplasma Rockets are designed to create and push plasma out of the rear of the craft. The variable-specific part means alteration of thrust can be controlled to allow very small changes when necessary, albeit with some penalty in overall efficiency. Anyway, just to compare this Soyuz design with the needs of a manned craft, 200 Megawatt power sources would be the order of things to carry humans, but for 'missile only' systems such as these, only a fraction of that power is required. I was scratching my chin because I hadn't yet seen the way the power was shared. Most of the experimental work on this principle has been with chemical propellants. This concept, by definition, required a nuclear capability for the warheads, so power could be siphoned off to propel the craft, and then switched to the warheads immediately prior to detonation time. Obvious in hindsight, but quite ingenious in a way. It looks like a complex coupling system, but at least in theory I believe it could work. The other comment I'd make, if I can anticipate your next question, is that nuclear propulsion of manned craft has never really been a front runner because of unforeseen risks of radiation leakage. This could be caused by all manner of events outside the influence of the crew or mission control. Chemically propelled rockets have always carried a small risk of explosion, but no radiation threat. Real life rescue missions of a crew with severe radiation exposure makes the politicians accountable, and although they were elected on that premise, they avoid it wherever possible. I know it sounds disrespectful, but there are no corpses or living dead with a chemical explosion, so the engineers pick up the flak, others simply move on. Sorry about my jaundiced view of these people but you did ask for my opinion. Finally, I'd say that if the coupling and decoupling of power from propulsion to detonation has been proven, it should be feasible to get these missiles to Mars in about 40 days."

# Chapter 35

During the continuing impassioned disagreement between Dr Villeneuve and the brain consultant, the issue was resolved. A senior nurse knocked timidly on the office door.

"I am very sorry to report that although Mr Kolorov is still hooked up to life support equipment, he is now cerebrally defunct. Would you please come and confirm what I have just said?"

Villeneuve uncharacteristically banged her fist on the desk. There was no mistake, Ivan Kolorov was effectively dead. Julien Delacroix was summoned to the ward. Someone had to give authorisation for life support to be terminated. After discussing every possibility of a miraculous reversal of Kolorov's status of being 'undead', Julien astonished the others by declaring that he should remain on life support. He waived away all protest and said he would explain his decision at a later date.

Bondarenko was apprised of the situation. He reacted by kicking a chair over and issued a bevy of Russian profanities. Julien asked his advice on how to treat Kaputin before he was sent back to Siberia.

"Even in death, Ivan seems to be able to shit on my table just as I am about to eat. Listen, Julien. We need to get Kaputin out of here. I should go back to Siberia with him and your propulsion technician. Kaputin must not know Ivan is gone. With the guidance of your propulsion man, I should be able to pull out the interface protocols and reinstall new ones in which I embed the codes. It will be an around the clock activity and take at least a month, but with the help of Kaputin's workers, it can be done. They will need someone who can instruct them in Russian. We should leave now."

Julien accepted this proposal with one caveat.

"When you've completed the task, I want you to stay there until I give you the signal to launch those missiles to the coordinates which I'll give you at the time. And you'll then have to lock-in detonation protocols which can only be altered or overridden from here. I want absolute certainty on this point."

"That would take more time than I outlined a few minutes ago. Perhaps six weeks."

"That's acceptable. I'll need you back here as soon as possible after the launch."

"Fine, I will explain nothing to Kaputin, other than there is a potential error in the control software. I can blind him with science and insist on him keeping it under wraps if he wants to earn his project bonus."

*

Sophie nervously approached her father, expecting to be challenged on many fronts regarding her aftercare medical facility proposal. Previous experience taught her that he always exercised a thorough analytical response to change, especially if it was likely to suck in liquidity running into millions.

What she could not have known was Julien's level of preoccupation with other issues, such as – what would develop in Siberia and Jupiter space. Then there was the final scheduling of the VB Aerospace asteroid diversion fleet. His concerns were heightened by the 'death status' of one Russian maverick and what effect that might have on the two on their way back to Soyuz. What was pretty certain was that any change in any of these scenarios would generate the need for literally hundreds of thousands of further calculations at a time when the number-crunching system was already overloaded with demand and overclocked in capacity. If it broke down his recourse to influencing anything could evaporate. He had to be sensitive to balance as well as urgency. He simply said yes to his daughter.

"You mean, yes there are no questions? Or, yes we'll talk about it some other time?"

"I think it's a wonderful idea, Sophie. If both of my kids think it has merit, Dr Villeneuve is supportive, your mother and aunt are going to work in this facility, what is there to question? I'm interested to see more detail, but that can wait until you have planning approval and costs to show me. I'm really proud of you, Sophie. I just know you'll be good at something like this."

She threw her arms around him and almost lifted him off his feet. She scampered out of his office and phoned her brother.

"He said yes, Eugene. Didn't ask me any awkward questions or pull any funny facial expressions. Do you think he's feeling unwell or something? He seemed enthusiastic but distant, if that makes sense."

"Sis, he's trying to save the planet, let's get it into perspective. I also think he sees what I see – a shift in your view of life in general, so don't overthink this, your self-confidence will grow with each achievement. Not so much from appreciation of others in your creative side, but the feeling of making a difference to those whom you help. Get started, no more questions right now, but as you know, I'm always here."

*

Alexei Bondarenko's knowledge of Siberia was sketchy at best, so he wasn't too surprised when Kaputin told him that the entire complex was underground. Silos, assembly lines, research, and IT systems were all hidden from prying eyes. To all extent and purpose, the plant didn't really exist. Deliveries were by air and personnel parking of vehicles above ground was forbidden. Apparently, this was not taken seriously at first and there had been a few employees fired because they flouted the directive.

He began to understand why Kolorov had appointed an enforcer like Kaputin to keep everything on track without attracting unwanted attention. The helicopter dropped them off and disappeared without switching off the rotors. Kaputin surveyed the landscape for several minutes before using his mobile to enact the opening of a gigantic set of horizontal doors, which were intricately camouflaged as part of the tundra. The two of them descended a set of wide steps and Bondarenko marvelled at the relative quiet of the first level as the doors moved back into place, extinguishing all light. He was asked by Kaputin to stand still until he was informed of the all clear to proceed. It was still very dark when the watery illumination came on and carved out a track for them to follow.

"Stay behind me at all times," said Kaputin, "you must not stray outside the illuminated area. We will soon be inside the main level and your vision will normalise."

In fact the lighting was very bright as they approached Kaputin's office. Bondarenko suffered mind-shock for a second time. There were almost as many robots scurrying around the floor as there were humans. He began to wonder whether it had been a wise decision to come here, and why Kaputin had not prepared him for any of this. He hadn't long to wait for an answer to that question.

"You may be feeling uneasy about this facility right now, but that will pass. Mr Kolorov wanted as much of the work here to be done by machines which could be recycled once the task was finished. This gave him less people to worry about if things went wrong. Apart from this level, with myself and the relevant experts, the plant is operated by non-sentient devices. It has been a long journey to get to where we are but it has paid off in terms of security and the time needed to actually assemble the missiles. In reality, it took more time to build the robots than it did to get the nuclear fleet carcases ready. We have started to phase out the human contribution now and that will continue until they are all gone. At least that is Mr Kolorov's wish. You have not told me exactly why you wanted to come here with me."

Bondarenko hadn't wanted to disclose Kolorov's demise, rather leaving Kaputin to believe his real boss would recover consciousness.

"Yes, Kolorov and I go back a long way, I assume you know that?"

"Certainly, he talked about you a lot. He wished you were here with him when he authorised this project to begin."

"Right, well, we discussed many aspects of this place with Mr Delacroix and Ivan when the ownership changed. One such discussion was in relation to the interface between the propulsion system and the warheads. The main concern was that the two companies employed different techniques. VB Aerospace already had a second fleet to engage the asteroid, and a third 'do or die' back up. However, in the event that the Soyuz one, and their primary one both fail, all protocols in the three fleets should be as uniform as possible, simply because we cannot afford any panic if we ever need to launch the third fleet. Operating new or different systems in such a last chance scenario is ill-advised. We therefore have to make alterations with this in mind. It does make sense, as all of the launches will be authorised from Guiana, and two of the fleets are there, so we need to alter the Soyuz setup."

"I see, but you are aware that this will take quite some time. Re-configuring the robots alone will be a tedious exercise."

"No, you misunderstand me, Kaputin. I am an interface expert. I need to meet your team of human IT people and we can bypass the robots."

"Ah. Well, most of them have already left our employment. I think we have only thirteen left. I will check this for you, and ask those who remain to come to my office."

Bondarenko's heart skipped a beat but he nodded affirmation. "Thank you. That would be a good start. Can you ask them to come now?"

"Of course. I will see to it right away."

# Chapter 36

A report thicker than a slab of butter lay provocatively on Eugene's desk. Everything else was placed in parallel with at least one edge of the rectangular leather inset, denoting a requirement for order. This tome was out of sync with the rest, forcing the eye to accommodate its peculiarity.

Eugene casually straightened it, intending to read it at some time in the next few days, but the sub-title caused him to hover. 'The Sculptor's Guide to the Infinitesimal' was more _astrological_ than he would have liked for such an extremely serious research subject.

Flicking through the introduction raised no further concerns, then there was the list of claims. His eyes widened as he realised the young researcher had not only confirmed his initial findings of using the Zika virus to infiltrate the human immune system with alarming ease, he'd actually taken the next step. One which Eugene had not authorised. The reconfigured viral structure had been injected into a lab rat prior to conceiving its litter. Eugene skipped ahead to the appended photographs and was completely overwhelmed with a cocktail of elation and horror. The baby rats all had rudimentary wings and highly-serrated tails. He threw the report back on to the desk and asked his PA to get the young man to his office.

"Immediately, like within a minute."

The young man arrived sporting a broad smile.

"Sit," said Eugene, "I'm intrigued by these pictures. How long did it take you to verify your findings since we last spoke about the Zika virus?"

"I have to be honest..."

"Yes, I would certainly advise you to begin telling the truth. I need to be able to trust my staff. This report was already written before you told me about your 'discovery', wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then why the deception?"

"I suppose I couldn't handle another rejection of such an important opportunity. If your father fails to shunt the asteroid to a safe path, we're all doomed. My work becomes irrelevant. If he succeeds, the ethics brigade will resurface and we both know what that means. If the third scenario develops, a partial impact which brings nuclear winter for decades, we need to be ready with a new medical approach. Isn't that why you set up this research centre?"

"Indeed it is, but you can't simply take unilateral decisions like this. Unleashing viruses into the human genome could in itself become a disaster. We must self-regulate in the current vacuum. We have to discuss safeguards and have them in place before stepping into the unknown. Unless you accept you are part of a team, and act accordingly, I must ask you to leave. I need to see details of every experiment you've conducted, both in this establishment and your previous employment. That's where we are. As seductive as your work is, it needs restraint as well as direction. Once I've seen all of the work you've done with this concept, I'd like to see every specimen you've created, here and wherever else. I'm on your side for now, so don't screw up. I won't let you out of my sight until I have an understanding of the entire concept. We'll be accompanied by our security people whenever necessary. Are we good to begin?"

"Fair enough. At least you don't see me as the bad guy. My former employer simply accused me of playing God, and kicked me out, after having approved the first steps of the project."

"I can imagine much of the record of your work still resides with your former employer, it must have been developed over many months, if not years."

"It was, but they erased all reference to the project when I was fired, but not before I made copies. We can look through it from the start."

"Fine, I'll follow you to the lab."

*

Julien picked up his phone and pressed the receive option when he saw the name. Bondarenko's news wasn't precisely what he wanted to hear but it could have been worse.

"This place is like a wardrobe with a few clothes hanging inside, protected by mothballs scattered around the interior. To cut a long story short, I need to bring the remaining IT people over to Guiana. We need to fabricate the new missile interface over there. There simply are not enough of them to get the job done quickly. Please warn your team that they will have to work with these Russian technicians, I will bring more detailed schematics with me. Julien, I am sure if we had not made this visit the plant would have been put in sleep mode until the expected signal to activate came from Kolorov. In a few weeks, Kaputin would have prepared for the remaining workforce to shrink to the absolute minimum required to launch. He revealed to me that when that event occurred, his instruction was clear. The underground complex was to be bulldozed back to pasture. When I am ready to leave you will receive another call."

Julien could appreciate how Bondarenko had become an indispensable asset in this infinitely layered puzzle, and he was at least relieved that he could now switch his attention to ongoing calculations and cosmic images.

The Chilean images were accompanied by a statement, and this was unusual. There was clear visual evidence that the asteroid was pulling away from the now detached cometary fragment at an increasing rate. In a few weeks there would be data which would enable a more precise calculation of this separation rate, and when the fragment would reach Earth if the asteroid itself was deflected. A secondary set of calculations to predict the likelihood of its ability to survive atmospheric burnout would need more data regarding its composition. The appended statement raised a different issue. The Chilean probe showed irrefutable evidence that the fault lines in the asteroid itself were now the main concern. The tail was getting brighter and the cracks were now widening **and** lengthening. In the estimation of the Chilean cosmologists, they would soon be relaying images of four or five objects, depending on whether the second cometary fragment survived the break up. Julien called his experts together to discuss the significance of this information. One element was clear, the probe could not track all objects if any of them set off on a new course. There was also a possibility that some of them could be propelled to a trajectory which was not a collision threat.

*

When Eugene had read through the full body of work, culminating in the pictures of a new sub-species of rat, he asked to see the specimens.

"I keep them in my quarters. I didn't want anyone to see them. Nobody else suspects they are anything but normal lab rats, the same as those which are kept in the lab."

"Then let's go to your quarters."

What he saw was difficult for Eugene to take in. Despite the wings being more like a second set of ears, and totally incapable of conferring the ability to fly, he accepted that this was an enormous leap toward his holy grail. It had occurred within a single generation. He was now being confronted by reality, whereas he had pretty much accepted that the best he could have hoped for was a legacy for any future survivors of any asteroid impact to inherit. He'd hoped that the cataclysm would never come to pass, and his work could be a valid stepping stone to more robust physiology, albeit with the ethics implications debated and agreed as to how the science should progress. What this young man had done was a phenomenal leap in understanding of genetic manipulation. But there was always the dark side if it fell into the wrong hands. It put him in an awkward spot. The pretence of looking ahead to that convenient point where he could use the constraint of time to ignore ethical issues, was no longer comfortable. The enabling crossroads had arrived well ahead of plan.

From Russia with Love

Bondarenko had to get special dispensation from the pilot of the Jetliner to make an emergency call.

"Julien, I have terrible news. I am on my way back to Guiana with the remnants of the IT team, but that now appears to be a waste of time."

"Why is it a waste of time all of a sudden?"

"I can hardly bring myself to say this but we were watching the Russian news bulletin on board the flight and the main item of breaking news showed the Siberian fleet being launched skyward. It cannot be happening, but it is."

"Sorry, just back up a little, Alexei. What is Kaputin's explanation?"

"He stayed behind to begin preparations for the receipt and installation of the new system we were going to send to Siberia. I am unable to contact him. The bastard must have approved the launch, there is no other credible explanation."

"But we were both convinced that he didn't have the codes."

"Maybe, but he either lied or knew someone who did. Look, there was no management structure left in Siberia, so if he had to obtain these codes from another person, my money would be on one of the guys travelling back with me. In any case, you need to get your tracking equipment on to the fleet. I am astonished that this has not been reported already in Guiana. The pictures I have seen clearly illustrated the entire fleet leaving the silos all the way to orbit. I have not been able to find out who shot this footage. I stand by my gut feeling that Kaputin does not have even the rudimentary knowhow to launch these missiles on his own. He has to have a collaborator to guide him on the input of the codes. I have to go, the pilot wants me to get off the line."

"Ok, Alexei. See what you can extract from your tech guys on the flight. I'll inform all observatories about this, maybe some have already seen what you've just described to me."

*

Sophie's previous encounter with the planning authority ended up being pivoted with either compromise or rejection. She had been characterised by the officials as a shape-shifter, regularly morphing from a cute puppy to a baying Rottweiler. She took the precaution of taking Reuben with her, tasking him with any early warning he felt was appropriate, by kicking her under the table. It proved to be a welcome corroboration of her acquisition of the new sequencing of her thought process. She listened, as well as asking to be listened to. Her opening remarks were set in the context of the object of the aftercare unit, but crucially they were liberally sprinkled with soliciting the planning advice on the design of the exterior. It turned out that Reuben was nothing more than a spectator. There were no raised voices, the concept was approved without fuss or undue analysis. Such a good cause, the recipient of which was the local municipality, not only helped that body feel better about itself, but acted as a catalyst to short circuit the process of approving the detailed proposal. Sophie left the meeting with the reassurance that the planners wanted to see this detail as a matter of urgency. Her new personality had not yet acclimatised to the existence of a vested interest gene in many public servants, but the outcome had at least reinforced her pleasure in this personal journey, this particular stage providing her very first unknowing hook into pragmatism.

# Chapter 37

The meeting agenda had to be broadened to take account of Bondarenko's message. Julien knew many of the team were suffering extreme fatigue, and he'd already decided they must head off serious burnout within their ranks.

"I'd like to declare that I have some good news, but as you know, the asteroid will always have us dancing to its rhythm, as long as we haven't dispatched our countermeasures. In that light I have to report that we have one less of those measures to worry about. Let me get to that first, because it may well have a bearing on the primary subject of the latest Chilean implications. I was informed that the newly acquired fleet of Soyuz missiles has been launched. It took me some time to get reliable, independent confirmation of that, because there was apparently quite some concern expressed by the remnants of international government sources, as to their purpose. A blanket of silence was felt necessary until there could be clarification of this. A nuclear strike against the West was not ruled out because not many people knew the fleet was already launch-capable. In fact I only knew this myself a couple of days ago. Once the missiles were seen to be heading out to space, the anal-tightening muscles relaxed and I got the answer I'd requested. Now, you need to know that I was not involved in the decision process to launch this fleet. Alexei Bondarenko is on his way back here, his plan was to re-fit the entire interface system for the Soyuz missiles, to have seamless launch and guidance compatibility with our own.

"So, turning to the images from Chile, and the appended prediction, we have another unknown. Until Bondarenko gets here with the Soyuz IT people, we are in essence in limbo. I can therefore reveal to you that Bondarenko's mission to change the interface was triggered because Ivan Kolorov was the only person we know of in whom the launch and control codes were invested. As some of you may now know, he recently passed away, but without being able to disclose them to us or where we could find them. Until Bondarenko gets here, I'm suggesting we take a short break from the treadmill of calculating response algorithms for every eventuality. In the light of what I've just told you, two crucial variables have been taken out of our hands. Knowing Ivan Kolorov as I did, his death probably set this train in motion. But how news of his demise leaked out to the wider world, I cannot say. However, in the absence of an alternative explanation, I'm prepared to believe there is a chance the Soyuz missiles may still be on intercept course with the asteroid. We, sadly have no control over that. The logical consequence of this would appear to be a pause in our endeavours until the outcome is known. My concentration is focussed on the journey time of the missiles. The plan I had in mind for this fleet was to strike this side of the asteroid belt. However, this early launch means that the missiles will arrive at that point in 40 days, according to our own propulsion expert, potentially detonating long before the asteroid reaches those coordinates. In that regard, I do take our propulsion expert's judgement seriously, but at present that is in the realms of theory. There is no record of this new propulsion system having been tested. So, at best, the Chilean prediction is imprecise and the damned thing could fragment before or after the Soyuz missiles detonate. I'd therefore like you all to take a short break and come back refreshed and ready to re-engage with whatever develops. Let's not become paranoid over stuff we simply can't control. Enjoy your time off. Thank you."

*

Seeing the live rats scurrying around the cages in the young researcher's quarters conferred a different experience to that of looking at still images. The absence of a language to factor into the scene intensified Eugene's ambivalent discomfort. The mother appeared to be totally unaware of her offspring resembling tiny dinosaurs. Nevertheless, he had to establish a way forward which would not become a divisive force if his father succeeded in his celestial challenge. Society was already fractured in a number of ways. He challenged the young man's regard for this aspect.

"As the director of this research I have to look beyond the scientific elegance of your work. One such responsibility I must respect is that of ensuring there is no danger to public health. So, tell me, how have you addressed this in your experiments?"

The shrug of the young researcher's shoulders was indication enough.

"As I feared, you haven't even considered it have you?"

"Of course I did, but I was more concerned by arousing anyone's suspicion. And, as you are well aware, I would have needed to justify time on the specific lab equipment, thus exposing the nature of the work I had undertaken. But now those checks can be done."

"How can you be sure that you haven't already created that very risk at the same time as the new sub-species? Rats are one of the most effective means of spreading infection. What I'm really trying to get into your head is that your work is a very long way ahead of where we need to be right now. The guiding principle of the project is and always has been to identify a means of reinforcing human resilience to our environment, whether it changes drastically or not. I want you to allow these specimens to be terminated with immediate effect. Perform post-mortems in private and let me know the results, before we talk more about what can and cannot happen next. We need to extract as much value as we can, even though it will be retrospective, from your unilateral breach of our code of practice. This is the only way I can allow you to remain in your post. There is no room for discussion."

The young man was about to protest.

"Don't," snarled Eugene, "your undoubted talent will simply be wasted unless you accept that safeguards aren't just for other people. Decide now or I'll have you escorted from the building. Such a summary dismissal would require me to inform your colleagues how you have discredited their work by flagrant disregard for the rules. They will be tarnished by association, as will I. That's how it works, and don't pretend you didn't know this, especially since you failed to declare you had previous with your last employer. We can get back on the right track if you do as I say. If you can't respect the project guidelines and my authority to enforce them, I fear you may never work again."

*

Bondarenko was back and advised Julien that the IT people he'd brought with him should be interrogated before they were allowed to mix with any VB Aerospace personnel.

"I had the chance to study their behaviour in response to the TV pictures on the flight. They all seemed to be just as shocked as I was, but then if one of them was involved in the launch it could be a rehearsed reaction. I want to question them one at a time. I could not do that on the plane or since we arrived."

"I agree. What I can tell you from our observations is that the missiles are on the heading we would have chosen ourselves if we'd launched at this particular time. Which brings me to what I propose to do next, with your help. Rather than wait until we had planned to launch our own deflection force, I suggest taking a calculated risk. If you can reconfigure our control system to achieve Mars orbit, we can have each warhead primed to act, in the event of the Soyuz fleet either detonating too early or hitting the target and causing fragmentation. If we launch as soon as this can be done, our fleet will arrive long after that of Soyuz. So, we can be more certain of how many targets we have to track, where they are heading, and hit them before they disperse out of range. It would mean that we need more tailored control of each missile and I know that brings complexity, but such flexibility is needed if we require different detonation times and coordinates. There seems to be three scenarios. The asteroid breaks up without any terrestrial interference and the fragments spiral away from us or they just keep coming at us. Secondly, the Soyuz fleet causes an explosive break up which has more chance of dispersing the remnants. And thirdly we have to recognise the probability that the Soyuz fleet will have no effect for whatever reason. If we don't launch our fleet until we know the outcome, we allow the asteroid to come closer before we can affect its path. You should know that I've asked the management team to take some time off so that we can cut down the relentless speculation, and replace it with hard facts. In truth, I wanted to give you time to make these alterations and keep that between the two of us. So, let's get these damned interrogations underway and out of our face before business as normal is resumed."

"You expect me to reconfigure the interfaces of the entire fleet myself? Just me? That's impossible."

"Alexei, that isn't a word we can entertain. Do one missile at a time, and launch them as they're ready. Think outside the box. Look, just get started with eliminating your IT people one at a time and when they're cleared, get them to help you with the reconfiguration. I don't want to use any of our subordinates. Somebody must have leaked Kolorov's death. If only we'd had the flight deck up and running again, we may have been able to eavesdrop in Siberia."

"That was not an option, Julien. I saw how tight the security operation was over there. Remember, Ivan built the place after he saw Volker Brandt's espionage system."

"Yes, but he was also convinced I had destroyed it."

"Ok, first the interrogations, then the interface reconfiguration process, then we can reboot the flight deck."

*

The post-mortem results were somewhat ambiguous. Eugene pointed to several slides which showed irregular behaviour of tissue samples.

"This is exactly what I didn't want to see."

The young researcher could only manage his acknowledgement by a nod.

"I'm referring to these 'zones of conflict' for the want of a better expression. In your zeal to create a new pathway to DNA manipulation you discounted the long term force of gradual evolution. Scores of generations are required to cultivate natural response to environmental stimuli. And as long as the stimuli remain, there can be resistance to other invasive attempts to alter course. Viruses have faced this challenge over aeons and have had considerable success, but only as far as step one, infiltration. Killing the host is counter-productive for them, and they have to adapt. They are making gradual progress, and like bacteria, are responding to change. Antibiotics are all but spent as an efficient means of treatment. We need to harness the virus infiltration capability without creating a secondary rejection scenario. The rats are a perfect example. The crude intrusion of wings into an already designed spinal system lacks accommodation of the effects of growth. The wings have caused both micro and macro deformity and the rejection is evident. It's now more difficult to determine whether there is lower immune protection to further viral attack. I would assume that to be the case, and unless we can be sure there isn't, we have to close this line of research and begin again. I've decided that you should present the idea to our entire team as if you haven't started the process. We can debate the principles of the technique again and perhaps define more modest objectives, with more checks and balances in place. We're a team, get that through your head and you may just get broader support for your concept."

Another sheepish nod enabled Eugene to set up a session for the entire group, to chew on which doors could be opened by this technique, and which ones could be closed again, if deemed necessary.

# Chapter 38

The interrogations were intense, exhaustive, and extremely enlightening. Without being able to collude with one another, every single IT technician threw scorn on Bondarenko's assertion that Kaputin was scientifically illiterate. He was unanimously portrayed as one of the leading plasma propulsion experts in the world. And Kaputin was in fact his little known middle name. Introducing himself as Sergei (Kaputin) Shevchenko would have given the game away when Bondarenko first phoned the Siberian plant and asked to speak with the director. It was a well-rehearsed ploy which had been used with all suppliers to the assembly line. Kolorov's influence could be seen in this spider's web. Attracting unwanted interest after the disaster with the first fleet was to be avoided at all costs.

Some of the more senior technicians were adamant that not only did this outward deception become the operational bible of the place, but reinforcement had been relentlessly pursued by making cosmetic changes to the director's appearance. Finally, all contact with the outside world projected the man as merely a facilitator. Hence the high wages and no time off for the staff until the project was complete. All of those interrogated were extremely confident that the missiles would succeed in their quest. The senior group also insisted that Kaputin would have all the codes and the capability to launch the fleet unaided, and even more certain that if he'd ever suspected that Kolorov had encountered any misfortune which prevented his ability to instruct Kaputin, the latter would be primed to act.

This effectively meant that Bondarenko could now turn to the task of making the VB deflection fleet control interface capable of instructing each missile independently and simultaneously, if that was required. Julien Delacroix was, in Bondarenko's mind, surprisingly unsurprised. Julien calmly acknowledged the news and told him to press ahead with the plan. Privately, he wondered how Kaputin found out that Kolorov's life had expired, and whether it was by natural causes or by a decision to switch him off.

One Month later

Although Ivan Kolorov himself could not rise from the dead, his legacy was not bound by such mortal constraint. The resurrection of the flight deck eliminated one further line of investigation. There was no window into the shadowy world of Soyuz Siberia, however, there was also good news. Even if the telemetric evidence had to be tempered with caution, Kolorov, via Kaputin had successfully conspired to get the fleet beyond Mars, and remarkably, still on course for an altercation with the asteroid.

Bondarenko's progress with the reconfiguration programme was nothing short of remarkable, and much of that achievement was down to seamless cooperation between the Siberian and VB Aerospace IT staff. The fleet would be ready within seventy-two hours. This had been, in no small way, assisted by Julien's people voluntarily returning early from their proposed two week break. There was an atmosphere of optimism, one of finally believing the balance of probability was moving in their favour.

The Chilean images kept on coming and indicated that the fissures in the asteroid had not widened significantly. One consequence of this was the gradual stabilisation of the distance between the detached cometary fragment and its mother. Both the gravitational force of the asteroid and the repellent influence of its tail had diminished to the point of being eliminated as a variable in the cosmic equation harvesting.

Eugene's mediation regarding the Zika virus research tributary paid off handsomely. Exposing the success of only the infiltration step fired up a waterfall of lateral thinking. Consensus was reached to study the mechanism rather than work on the basis of actually employing the virus and its attendant risk. The resultant outpouring of options to progress this approach led to the convergence Eugene felt was so important. Team ethic began to flourish again.

Quality of the Delacroix family life was also on the rise. It felt as if they had forgotten, if only temporarily, the weariness of confronting only bad news. Could it be true? Was the worst case scenario somehow receding of its own accord? Picnics by the sea, flotillas of windsurfers, the odd kite, and seasonal flocks of seabirds, helped to blur the negative thoughts which had assaulted human endeavour over the last few years.

*

Julien's hand hovered over the launch controls. His was a symbolic role, setting in motion the sequence for those delegated to take over the countdown process. Nevertheless, he felt a lump in his throat, and he found himself transported back to that fateful day at the Osaka conference. The sheer number of kinks in the road since then had seriously worn him down. For the first time since that conference he was drawn to the attraction of full retirement. He glanced over to his family and was met with tears of pride masked by unbridled joy. Nobody was thinking of failure any more. He wondered whether he should bring forward the disclosure of Dr Villeneuve's diagnosis. He was in urgent need of a heart bypass procedure. There had always been a better time to concede. Not now, he thought, perhaps after he truly accepted he was in denial. Broken promises to oneself didn't seem to weigh as heavily as those made to others, especially if those people depended on him. Perhaps pushing this button would be the catalyst to unburdening himself.

As the missiles were absorbed into extra-terrestrial space, and the applause died down, Julien glanced sideways and his gaze was met by Dr Villeneuve. She nodded firmly. He acknowledged the signal and left the throng to share the moment with his family. He asked Eugene to drive them to the house and open a bottle of chilled bubbly. He casually celebrated the moment and told them he had to discuss something with Dr Villeneuve.

"It won't take more than a few minutes, I promise."

*

Julien entered the office.

"Mr Delacroix."

"Dr Villeneuve."

"I assume you are finally ready to make the appointment for your bypass procedure."

"I am. I was thinking of next month, by then we'll know if the Soyuz fleet has any further part to play."

"Have I been wasting my breath for the last fifteen months? You are at serious risk of cardiac arrest, even as we speak. I can't believe such an intelligent person can be so stupid."

"If I remember correctly, you only picked up my problem during a yearly medical check-up. I didn't have any symptoms to report, and apart from feeling tired now and again, I still don't have any discomfort."

"That's all very well, but if we had found signs of cancer or a possible embolism, you would have immediately opted for early treatment to head off later complications. The scans don't lie, Mr Delacroix, that's what they are for, to pick up things we can't see in any other way. It's called prevention rather than cure. I strongly advise you to submit to this procedure within days. Have you considered that you may not be here to see the outcome of all the hard work you've invested on behalf of humans and all other living creatures? Surely that should be a factor in overcoming your obstinacy. Another consideration is your age, you are entering the sector of the population for whom it is not advisable to undergo such surgery. It's up to you, I've said all I can to you, but I don't feel as if I should honour my pledge to you about keeping your family in the dark. I want to hear your decision now, not tomorrow, not next week – now!"

"Very well, but how long will it take me to recover? I will have to return to work in the coming weeks."

"You should be thinking in terms of a minimum of eight weeks, and that would not be for a 'hands-on' role such as you have now. You need to begin to delegate immediately."

"Fine, let's get the damned thing over with. I need to tell the family, as you suggest. How about the end of the week?"

"Excellent, I'll make the preparations and give you a more precise time by tomorrow morning."

*

Julien expected a backlash from his wife and daughter, but they were utterly dumbfounded by the news. Sophie broke down as she tried to find words of sympathy. Her stuttering melted into a clinging hug. Elise flopped down on to the nearest chair and just stared at the floor. Geraldine couldn't help feeling like an intruder, excusing herself to use the toilet.

It was left to Eugene to pick up the mood. He instinctively thought his father needed a hefty dose of pragmatism.

"These procedures are pretty routine these days. I'm not saying they're without risk, but not the same risk as just leaving things to take their own course. Listen, Dad, I've just overseen a new line in research and I'm kind of surplus to requirements at this stage, so I can help to keep an eye on things to do with the asteroid strike fleets. You'll definitely have to rest up after the op, so if you give me a list of things you'd like to keep up to date on, I'll work with Bondarenko and report back when necessary."

Sophie didn't like this, Elise merely shook her head, and Geraldine invoked the cure-all recipe, tripping off to make everyone a cup of tea. Eugene ignored the prickly atmosphere and asked his father when the operation would take place.

"It looks like the end of this week. If you're sure you have the time to work with Bondarenko that would ease my mind, Eugene. In fact, I'll make sure he defers to you if there are any contentious issues. The last thing we need is a vacuum of decision-making at the most crucial time of the programme. I trust you implicitly, son. Dr Villeneuve indicated that I might need a few weeks to recover fully, so I want to put your mother and sister's mind to rest about me getting involved again too soon."

Julien visibly relaxed and pulled everyone together. "Now, where is the rest of that champagne? You've all deserved this celebration for supporting me over the years. And before anyone else says so, I'm going to have mineral water. There will be another time for life's indulgences."

*

During Julien's briefing of Bondarenko regarding his impending surgery and Eugene standing in for him, the Russian had some news of his own.

"I asked one of the Soyuz IT guys I brought here with me to check up on the Siberian plant status following the 'unplanned launch'. There is no sign of any staff, including Kaputin. The place is already crawling with gigantic earth-moving vehicles. I checked this out with Soyuz HQ and they confirmed that this was all part of the plan. The underground factory was always destined to disappear after the launch, and the landscape returned to its natural beauty. I could not get any handle on exactly who was authorised to do what leading up to the order to set these missiles free. Kaputin was not part of the restoration programme, and the official line is that nobody knows where he is. It is my bet that it all goes back to Kolorov. I cannot see us ever finding out more about the chain of command involved with this company. Your plan to close down their entire operation now seems to make good sense."

"So, are you saying nobody in either the Siberian factory or Soyuz HQ has the remotest idea what the missiles are programmed to do?"

"No, I am saying that some people may know, but nobody is going to tell. My money is still on Kaputin, but unless he is found, we are never going to know for sure. Anyway, at the speed these missiles are travelling, we will know what they are programmed to do soon enough. As annoying as this is, there are more important things to work on. I will make sure Eugene knows everything I know as our fleet progresses. I wish you a speedy recovery from this operation. Am I allowed to visit you next week?"

"Of course, but check it out with Villeneuve and my family. They are all fussing over this and that. I just want the bloody thing to be over."

# Chapter 39

Part Five: Homo Diversitus

Julien was pleased he'd had the foresight of asking Dr Villeneuve to prepare a recuperation room for him at home. The operation had gone well, but the last place he wanted to lay fallow was the medical wing. Every piece of necessary equipment and various creature comforts were set up next to the exercise apparatus. A specialist nurse was seconded to his home but could be excluded from any sensitive discussions he needed to have with his son.

He was experiencing alternating bouts of weakness and vigour. However, he had the voice of Villeneuve perched on whichever shoulder needed an ally. The main benefit of this arrangement to the patient was the closeness of his family, dispensing with visiting hours, duty of asking silly questions, get well soon cards, and grapes.

Eugene already had interesting information from Bondarenko and checked with Dr Villeneuve before disclosing it to his father. As it was potentially good news, or at least could be presented as good news, she agreed.

"Hi Dad, I know it's my second visit today, but I wanted to ask your advice. It's not the sort of subject I'd be happy discussing in front of the rest of the family. But first of all, Bondarenko gave me updates on all fronts just over an hour ago. The Soyuz missiles have slowed dramatically as they head toward the asteroid belt. If this continues they will halt before they reach it. The Soyuz IT guys believe this means they will strike the incomer from where they stop. Two of these technicians say they overheard many conversations in which the asteroid belt was mentioned, and this was during the installation of the interface system. At any rate, the missiles are still on rendezvous with our asteroid, except it is now coming to them, relatively speaking."

"Very interesting, Eugene. But I suppose that could be one of many possible situations. There could be a fault with the propulsion system, remember, it's never been tested. On the other hand, they haven't detonated in no man's land, so we keep our fingers crossed."

Eugene thought this didn't sound like the father he knew. Julien seemed relatively unconcerned.

"Hope springs eternal, Dad. As far as our fleet is concerned, everything is on track. Bondarenko said he was quite jittery about this whole new control system, but so far so good. Now, the Chilean probe reports that the gap between the asteroid and the cometary fragment has become constant, even though it currently is quite some distance behind. The cracks in the parent are as before, but they seem to be emitting more matter judging by the size of the tail, which in fact is making it more difficult to observe the individual fissures."

"Well, on balance, we shouldn't lose too much sleep over these reports. I need to get Villeneuve to step up my exercise programme. You said you wanted my advice, about what?"

"The research programme has thrown up a dilemma. Briefly, we have hit on what seems a safe way to mimic viral deception of our immune system without actually using a virus. Substantial re-engineering of stem cells is the principle gateway, but it now provokes the question of priorities regarding what we want to enhance and by how much. As this entire approach was your idea when you offered me the job, I'd value your take now that we seem to have swung the pendulum in our favour in dealing with the asteroid. Could you give it some thought? There's no rush, in fact it could take your mind off the pain if Dr Villeneuve agrees to your request to ramp up your exercise regimen. Don't try to walk before you can crawl, Dad. I'll come back to you about my question in a couple of weeks."

2039

Over the last few years people had come to associate the passage from 2038 to 2039 with some kind of unplugging of the human race. Such an abstract concept quickly dissolved into fear of lingering death, perhaps radiation sickness, toxic inhalation, gruesome but terminal injury, and being swept up by a tsunami were the most common. The absence of hard evidence to the contrary had been the fertile ground for the weeds of despair. Until now.

Despite his recuperation being slower than he was prepared to admit, Julien Delacroix insisted that he should personally deliver the news to the world. A broadcast studio was hurriedly set up in Guiana, and the country was almost overwhelmed by the media invasion. The announcement was short but carefully measured in terms of the expectation it could create.

"I speak to all inhabitants of this planet. It is often said that patience is a virtue, but sometimes it becomes a heavy burden. Today, I can tell you that the burden has become a little more bearable. We have irrefutable confirmation that the Soyuz missiles, which are part of VB Aerospace, have intercepted the threat which was on collision course with Earth. This strike force detonated just inside the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars. The result of such a strike could never have been predicted with any certainty. However, I can tell you that the target already had several fissures, which could have then caused its breakup by natural cosmic forces. This could have occurred close to Earth, and that could have been disastrous. The Soyuz fleet has achieved this breakup well beyond Mars. We have determined that there are now five objects heading toward our planet. Four fragments of the original asteroid and one cometary fragment are now coming our way. Each one of these bodies poses a lesser threat than the main asteroid from which they splintered. The cometary fragment with these remnants is not a major concern. It is small and could possibly be burned by our atmosphere before it can reach the surface of Earth. There is another such fragment which detached itself from the parent asteroid some time ago, and is still on course to impact our planet, but like its sibling, is not a serious extinction threat. Our main concern now is to confront the four components of the original asteroid as soon as possible. Two of them appear to be on a trajectory which would not collide with our planet, but there is a remote chance that they could suffer collision with another small cosmic body which could deflect them back towards Earth. The good news is that we have the VB Aerospace fleet approaching Mars space and it is primed to deal with all four large asteroid fragments. Further bulletins will be broadcast as events develop, but we are now looking at a promising scenario, one in which a major extinction threat is neutralised. I urge caution in thinking the battle is over, but the odds of victory have moved in our favour. I hope this news can at least get every inhabitant to concentrate on the healing process we need to embrace on our precious planet, if indeed we avert the potential disaster we have lived with for more than a decade. Thank you."

This was received with a kind of welcome numbness, similar to a local anaesthetic, which may well wear off and allow the pain to flourish again. The healing process to which Julien referred could not begin in earnest until there were no caveats to the apparent success of the first step to a stay of execution. In such a vacuum, it would be reasonable to expect a heightened jockeying for position and power. The anarchists quickly distanced themselves from the 'half-truths' of the announcement. After all, Julien Delacroix was an extension of the establishment. Rekindling hope brought religious tension back to the fray, the various deities hadn't let the human race down, despite the atheist messages of doom, and they could now re-engage with sectarian friction. Creaking government institutions viewed the gap as a signal to restore their grip on recently conceded influence. From their retention of monetary access, they banded together, beating the drum of unprecedented federalism as the only answer to correcting the economic tilt of the global axis. It was not so much trust which aided their cause, but the sheer chaos generated by the anarchist barons. Despite all of this uncertainty, and realisation that the word 'future' was no longer an unwritten taboo, it could at least become semi-unspecific once more.

*

As the VB Aerospace fleet mission control began to deploy the micro manoeuvres of individual missiles to attack the four major fragments, the Chilean probe moved away to a safe distance. This effectively meant that their stakeout was at an end. Bondarenko knew this was going to be the most demanding phase of the hurriedly installed interface controls. He and Eugene agreed to strike one of the two fragments which was no longer on collision course. It was considered to be better to observe the outcome of this before taking on the two which were still heading for Earth. The planet held its new-found breath once more. Images of the interception would not be displayed to the general public until the tedious post-strike calculations had been regurgitated.

*

Julien asked Eugene to bring Bondarenko to the house. When they arrived he thanked them both profusely for the way they has handled things in his absence.

"Hopefully I'll be able to thank you properly when I'm back to normal. I have one more request for you, Alexei. Please speak with your Russian contacts on my behalf. This pinpoint accuracy of the Soyuz fleet is both gratifying and disturbing. It seems that our old fox, Kolorov, wanted to be the one who should be remembered as the man behind the first Mars landing, and the saviour of the species by taking down the asteroid. Whether it was Kaputin or the ghost of Kolorov who pushed the buttons, the brains behind both operations was surely Ivan. So, just in case there is some other snare out there waiting for us to step into, I want to send congratulations to your country and make the gesture of handing back ownership of Soyuz to the Russian state, to its people. I know they didn't want to touch it when I decided to take it over, but the anarchists are in the twilight of their campaign. The pride that comes with the Soyuz name now is a force for coming together. I'd like you to make this gesture before we hit the first fragment with our missiles. We're so close, and I don't want to screw up so close to checkmate."

"Are you serious, Julien? I cannot see how my homeland can influence any control of our fleet. And it is still dangerous for me to speak with these people. "

"Look, I paid peanuts for a prestigious company and as I said in my address to the world, we need to start the healing process within our species. I want to transfer that burden to the people. The establishment will follow. This is a new beginning and I don't want to be stung yet again by that bastard Kolorov, this time from his grave! I realise I sound more than a little paranoid, but we don't know where Kaputin is or what he was primed to do other than launch Kolorov's fleet. Just indulge me in this, Alexei. All you have to do is make the call. You've already been back to Siberia, so what's the problem?"

"Siberia is not Moscow. If you insist on this I will only speak with that lawyer, the one who transferred Soyuz stock to you from Malenkov's kid. He can call you and take your instructions. That is all I am prepared to do."

Bondarenko looked at Eugene, who shook his head repeatedly. "No, no, definitely no. I trust my father's word on this. I don't know what the hell he's talking about, but I'm not getting involved. As soon as you deal with these asteroid fragments, I'm heading back to my research. It's a full time job and I'm going to have to shape it to fit with whatever you achieve with these missiles. In fact, I don't even know why I'm here. You two could have had this chat without me."

*

Later that evening, Eugene returned from the research wing and found his father on the phone. Julien motioned him to sit. The call was obviously from Russia, but didn't take long to conclude.

"That wasn't too difficult, I don't know why Alexei was so jittery."

"Dad, I don't think you realise just how much this bypass op has affected you. I've done my best to keep the wheels turning during your recovery, but you have to let Bondarenko get on with the task you delegated to him. He's worked his nuts off and a little appreciation wouldn't go amiss, especially as we're at the trickiest part of the mission. Throwing this Russian crap at him could have taken his eye off the ball."

"I realise that, Eugene. I used to be a very trusting person, just like you, before I joined VB Aerospace. Kolorov changed all that. He took advantage of my trust and outmanoeuvred me time after time. It's quite ironic in a way that he was taken out of the picture by a pure accident. A master poker player eliminated by the perennial patsy. I only pushed him to get out of my way, I never thought he would get out of my way permanently. Anyway, all I asked Alexei to do was set up this deal with the Russian administration, and it's done. You see, I wanted some insurance in the event of our good fortune running out. By acknowledging that the first strike against the asteroid was of Russian origin, they take their rightful place in history. But it has created at least two harbingers of doom from one. Our task is a little more complex now, and I wanted the world to know that if anything other than miscalculation by VB Aerospace causes our failure to neutralise these fragments, they know where to look. I'm sincerely hoping that this gesture of gifting Soyuz back to the Russian state will avoid any preconceived attempt to sabotage our programme, if one exists. I'm sure Kaputin holds the key, but he could be connected to others through his former mentor, Ivan Kolorov. It's just belt and braces, Eugene. In any case, Soyuz ownership doesn't belong here, I was going to run it into the ground, but this gives us more leverage. I haven't lost my marbles just yet. Now, I've given a lot of thought to your question – how to proceed with your research breakthrough."

*

There were beads of sweat trickling down the temples of Alexei Bondarenko. Two missiles had been selected to make consecutive rather than concurrent strikes at the chosen fragment. The logic was that sacrificing a double detonation would be more than compensated by the opportunity for the second missile to home in on derived points of weakness from the first strike. That was the theory. In fact, it turned out to be a wise decision. The second missile was not required to rupture the fragment. The splintering was immediate and the resultant components were of a mass which was felt wouldn't be a major threat to Earth. It would take some time for the precise patterns of trajectory for these 'marbles' to be established, but many were already heading on non-impact paths. Bondarenko was overjoyed with the degree of control he'd achieved, especially as it had produced the bonus of having an extra missile in hand for the next fragment.

Julien had been advised by Dr Villeneuve that he should stay away from mission control during this nerve-jangling exercise. She'd insisted that building stress without having any control of events could cause a major setback in his recuperation. Any lingering desire had been extinguished by him being trapped at home by the family. Elise had threatened to drug him with sleeping tablets. Sophie declared she would lose motivation for the aftercare unit if he suffered a serious problem by ignoring Villeneuve's advice. Eugene echoed this sentiment by telling him he needn't bother answering his question on future research unless he spent a quiet afternoon with the family. Geraldine declined to say anything other than she'd made Julien's favourite Lyonnaise dish for dinner.

Eugene took the call from Bondarenko and asked him to come to the house and deliver the news, asking him to keep a lid on the euphoria until it had sunk in with Julien that they were one step away from success.

"That's wonderful news, Alexei! You beauty! Words cannot describe how I feel about this. I hope you can summon your devil's advocate persona when you tell my father. He's been told by the good doctor to avoid too much adrenalin production for a few more weeks. This news could send it through the roof, I know it has with me. Well done, my friend."

*

Despite the matter-of-fact presentation of the accomplishment from Bondarenko, Julien found it difficult to sleep. Were they really just one strike away from giving the human race another chance at looking after their planet? Eugene arrived earlier than expected.

"Ok, Dad. Let me have it, what difference does this make to our research programme?"

"I've agonised over this bloody asteroid so much in the last few years that I seem to have got everything else out of proportion, including the needs of my family. Now that we seem so close, it's tempting to think the job is done, but it isn't. When I first asked you to set up this research team, my judgements were driven by uncertainty, and this gave me a thorny problem to tackle. The best way I can put it is to weigh up the short and long term benefits and disadvantages. It would be a real shame if we killed off the asteroid threat and in our efforts to enable physiological and mental improvement of our weaker characteristics, we engineered an unnecessary problem. What I mean is probably best exemplified by a scenario in which we'd already introduced changes in the human genome which went wrong, and we had already neutralised the asteroid. Nobody would thank us for that. On the other hand, if we do no more research and somehow snatch defeat from the jaws of victory with the asteroid, we will have abrogated our duty. It's a very difficult one, Eugene, not least of all because in scenario one, the ethics brigade will be back."

"You've just about replicated my dilemma. So, I think I need to tell you more about what appears to be possible from our latest tests."

"Before you do that, son, my gut feeling is that we should just pause everything for a few more weeks, until all calculations are corroborated by observational data. I know time is important but in the worst case outcome with the missiles, we still have a few months to take your work forward."

"If only that was the case, Dad. I should have told you earlier. The work has gone further than merely mimicking the mechanism of the virus in infiltrating our immune system. Without telling me, one of the young researchers actually pressed on with experiments to evaluate the potential to meddle with genome switching. He contrived to inject the Zika virus into lab rats, and before they were allowed to conceive, he flicked a few switches. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. The litter had rudimentary wings and grotesque alteration to their tails. I made sure these specimens were allowed to die and the access to virus samples only authorised by me. I stopped any further work in this direction but the documentation is filed with me. Obviously this young man cannot repeat this venture into the unknown without state-of-the-art lab facilities, but he could find employment elsewhere. I wanted to keep him here until we knew more about the deflection programme and I could talk with you. I didn't know you were going to need a bypass at the time. It's a mess."

"Jesus, it certainly is a mess, which could become a catastrophe. We must find a way of keeping this under wraps for now. The infiltration concept is a worthy breakthrough. We have to park everything there until Bondarenko has dealt with the second fragment, then I want to speak with this young man. You were right to come to me with this, Eugene. I'm sure we can work out a solution."

*

One of the missiles wasn't responding to vector commands anymore. Bondarenko decided to leave it out of the strike, but it could still be useful as the detonation protocols were active. Using the same one-two technique which had been successful with the first fragment seemed to be the logical strategy. However, nothing was certain in the theatre of cosmic pinball, especially when the cue ball has known characteristics, but the target is asymmetric in shape, composition, angular spin, and structural integrity.

The invisible force emanating from detonation, in the vacuum of space delivered a wounding blow rather than a fatal or disruptive one. The fragment veered significantly then took on a marginally quicker and directional axial spin. Bondarenko wanted to observe this behaviour for a few minutes before engaging the second missile.

Eugene watched the unfolding drama with a dual concern. He was torn between asking Bondarenko to speak with his father before the second strike, and potentially bringing on the cardiac problem Dr Villeneuve had warned about. He stayed silent, bound up in the tension which engulfed everyone in mission control. Bondarenko consulted with his two most reliable IT officers. Eugene couldn't hear what was said, but saw that there was agreement. The second missile was instructed to circle around the fragment and strike the opposite side once there was telemetric and visual corroboration that the new trajectory was not an impact risk.

Further observational data detected the slightest effluent issuing from a point which was positioned on an equatorial spin line with the missile. Bondarenko gave the order to strike.

The noiseless obliteration of the fragment was greeted with unrestrained emotion from everyone in the control centre. Countless pieces of rock swirled away from one another and the threat was finally over.

When Eugene dialled the home number, the rest of the family was gathered around Julien's reclining chair. It was as if his father was afraid to pick up the receiver. It rang and rang for an uncomfortably long time. Finally he heard the click. Still very much aware of a sudden surge in adrenalin production, he decided to break the news into two parts.

"Dad?"

"Eugene?"

"Well, I believe we've done it, but it has yet to be confirmed by more calculations than ever. There were many more mini-fragments from this lump of rock than the previous one. I'm on my way home and Bondarenko will call in later when the calculations have been completed. It's a hell of a relief, Dad, but Alexei has put celebrations on hold until he's absolutely certain the job has been done. I suppose he wouldn't mind me offering premature congratulations to my own father, I'm so proud of you, Dad. See you soon."

Two further hours of data reconciliation passed as if time itself had been ruptured by the missiles. The door chime announced Bondarenko's arrival and he was ushered into the main living quarters. No words were needed. The Russian strode across to Julien, knelt down and hugged him unashamedly. The others couldn't hold back outpouring of relief, the gift of a new horizon. One with no 'built-in' end point. Julien looked at each of them in turn and his chest began to heave in concert with uncontrollable bursts of tears. Amongst these reflex responses was the realisation that it was truly over, not just the mission, or his calling in life, there was also the rebuilding of his family. He was suddenly more aware of his fragile health and the need to avoid falling back into the abyss of his professional life. Sophie had managed to kick her addiction, he had to follow her lead.

# Chapter 40

Four Months Later

Julien Delacroix was dismayed. In such a short time the jubilation of reprieve had been virtually forgotten. Everyday conversation had moved on to new priorities, few of which were even remotely connected to a resolve of nursing the planet back to health. His own mental health was now a serious concern to his family. He'd discussed the situation with Eugene many times and advised his son to abandon the research programme, claiming that the human race was not yet mature enough to handle relative indestructability. Despite their resistance, he had transferred ownership of VB Aerospace to his children, hinting that they could sell up and lead a much more interesting life. Sophie, more acutely than the others, sensed her father was descending into a really dark place.

Even when Eugene, as temporary chief executive and joint owner of the company, gave him the latest updates on tracking the cometary fragments, he merely shrugged his shoulders and asked for more coffee.

"Dad, the coffee can wait for a few minutes. There is now consensus that these fragments will struggle to survive our atmosphere. One is predicted to head for the Australian outback, and the later one to somewhere in the Arctic ice cap region. Wouldn't you like to take a trip to Greenland to see it burn out in the northern sky? It should be spectacular and it would be a fitting conclusion to all the effort you've put into preventing unimaginable horror in our world. I'd love to go there with you, should I make the arrangements?"

"It's a nice idea, son, but I don't think I could face the journey. We can watch it on television together. Have you considered what I said about selling the company?"

"No, not yet. I spoke to Sophie and she wants to press on with her aftercare project. Even without considering VB Aerospace itself, she feels a connection with this country, and wants to help lots of poor people in Guiana. Regarding my own situation, I'm thinking over what you said about shelving the research programme. My gut feeling is to carry on with the branch in which we seek to eradicate life-threatening conditions by genetic 'snip and sow' techniques. The other stuff can wait, but I want to finesse the work on mimicking viral infiltration of our immune system. Even before the asteroid threat, we were vulnerable to bacterial and viral pandemics, and we still are. Once that bears fruit, I'll publish the findings and park the project for future reference. If we were to sell the company, I want to carry on in my field of microbiology. You're right, Sophie and I could fund our work from selling VB Aerospace. I'll have to give the decision more time, Dad. What would you do if we sell up?"

"I think my time might be short now, Eugene. And I know your mother would still like to return to Lyon. I think I'm ready to consider that as well."

"That's a surprise. You spent a hell of a long time persuading her to settle here. Has she mentioned it again?"

"No, she seems happy enough, but I know deep down that she misses France. So does Geraldine."

"But they're both doing so well in helping Sophie to get this aftercare unit up and running. You should ask mum about this, at the moment you're just making assumptions."

"They could easily do this kind of work in France."

"I know, but this is their project, you have to ask them what they want. This might be a bit trickier than you think. In a way, we all came here to support you. Don't just trash that loyalty because you're pissed off with human frailties. That will never change unless it is genetically engineered. Just joking, but you have to overcome this disappointment. You were a leading figure in saving the planet, you aren't Jesus Christ."

"As always, good advice, Eugene. I'll speak to your mother first, to find out if her longing to go back to Lyon is still strong. Maybe I'm just kidding myself because I feel like getting out of here. I'm just so surprised that everything is back to 'business as usual' so quickly. Like all those years of dedication had no point whatsoever."

"Unfortunately, it's the way of the world. One minute you received all those awards for your service to humanity and the next we're back on the road to hell. It's just a different hell! See you later, Dad. Don't let this get to you."

Twenty-Two Days Later

The two fragments were only separated by a few hours in the approximate entry times. In a curious expression of homage to their narrow escape from oblivion, thousands of people gathered in each location. Their explanations for making the trip to such hostile locations were many and varied. Recovered faith in the omnipotent one, interpretation of recent events through astrological eyes, atonement for some barely remembered sin, discovery of some inner awakening, science anoraks gathering souvenirs, and a large contingent merely to witness the anticipated fireworks. The common denominator was an 'I was there' need to feel good about oneself.

In the searing heat of the outback it was difficult to detect the object during daylight. But there was a surprise in store for the perspiring onlookers. The calculations were wrong. The fragment did make it to the lower atmosphere, and less than a mile above the surface it suddenly exploded, catching everyone's breath. The scatter area was immediately a target for establishment officials and tourists alike, seeking a piece of history to place in museums or on a mantelpiece. In addition, the northern hemisphere was given warning that the second fragment may also reach the surface.

There was no throng on the Arctic ice cap, but hurriedly-arranged science delegates got there by helicopter to film first-hand accounts of the spectacle. In the half-light the visual trail of the object was a sight to behold. A flaming slingshot from the heavens, it multiplied by a further split, almost immediately followed by a double air-burst. The falling residue would cover many square miles.

The shows were over, but many of those returning from either performance held dual interpretations of events. A celestial wonder of which they were in awe, and a chilling reminder of what might have been but for the missile strikes. There was also a feeling of uneasy excitement amongst the scientists present, concern as to what the surviving fragments may reveal. They shouldn't really have made it to the surface.

*

Julien heeded his son's advice when he and Elise were alone. His approach was to probe and analyse before popping the question.

"How are you and Geraldine holding up in Sophie's vision for the new aftercare unit?"

"It's taken you a long time to ask about it, are you worried about her?"

"Not at all, I have every confidence she'll get this to run the way she imagines it. But, there are always problems down the line, mostly the kind you don't expect. My experience is that you are continually challenged as to whether you've bitten off more than you can chew. It's you and your sister I'm asking about, primarily if it will interfere with your own hobbies and enjoyment. You have both found a passion for horticulture, and I've been a silent beneficiary of this. I really love the way you've transformed a predominantly austere landscape into a variegated meadow, punctuated with functional areas for family enjoyment."

"Yes, we do enjoy this creative activity, but Sophie really is a different person now, and we're glad to give her our unstinting support until she gets everything the way she wants it. Geraldine has also hinted that we will find it increasingly difficult to divide our time. Are you asking about this because you're having second thoughts about the project?"

"No, I suppose it's just a consequence of me moving into retirement. I've had a wake-up call with this heart bypass and so have you with your kidney transplant. We're not getting any younger, Elise."

"That's true, but we'll give Sophie the help she needs for now. I'm already seeing signs that she needs younger people to provide ideas and even challenge hers. The other Sophie would have marched us out of there within a week. It will dawn on her before too long that she needs more expertise and less old wives tales. I wouldn't worry too much about it, Julien."

This was enough for him to consider for now.

*

The scavenging for cometary pebbles had ramped up beyond all expectation. Finding such elusive structures needed expertise at the best of times, but the Arctic ice cap had its own way of burying or disguising such treasure. The weather was extraordinarily bad, and posed a high risk to life of even experienced cosmic hunters.

The situation in Australia was precisely the opposite. Warm weather and a plethora of fake local guides provided an effective lure for all manner of speculators. Accommodation was seriously oversubscribed and many resorted to movable modes of respite from the sun and provision for sleep. Tents and recreational vehicles speckled the outback. With so many thousands of enthusiasts involved, pieces of rock exchanged hands for considerable amounts of electronic money or bartered goods such as cars, gold, precious stones, and some of the tents that were no longer required. Many of the pea-sized purchases were nothing more than metal ores worked from derelict mines, but convincing enough for opportunists to fall for the deception. The throng seemed to have representation from a multitude of countries, ensuring each corner of the world shared in the spoils.

When it became clear that the majority of the prized pebbles were of earthly origin, fighting and killing broke out. It escalated so quickly that the Australian authorities were forced to close off hundreds of square miles of the outback, and place it under constant military supervision.

*

Eugene was having great difficulty in making his young researcher see his point of view.

"As promising as your work has been, you were not authorised to carry it out beyond agreed limits. The situation has changed, and you must accept that ethics enforcers haven't gone up in smoke with the rest of the planet, and now they will come back with a vengeance. We have a short time to polish up the infiltration mechanism, but the rest must end. When the time is right, we can consider an approach to the reformed global watchdog, but it will have to be a watered down version of what you've actually discovered. Anything else and we would be closed down."

"In that case, I'll give you my resignation, verbally effective immediately. I'll put it in writing tomorrow. The ethics police didn't stop people from creating clones, robots which are capable of being servants, and babies with three parents. It is pure hypocrisy and you know it. I'll work my notice and then I'm out of here."

This gave Eugene a problem. Even if the rats had been incinerated, he knew this young man would have kept copies of all the test results. Normally it would be considered propriety technology of the company, but would he want that to be known? His default position would be worsened if he had to admit he didn't fire this man immediately after being apprised of the tests. He decided to pre-empt the man's written notice and get him off the premises within the hour. Severance had to be seen to be contractual and no more than that. It took two muscular security guards to frogmarch the evacuee to a waiting vehicle and off the site. Eugene filmed the episode for future reference if a challenge to his version of events materialised.

Perhaps his father's suggestion to sell up and begin again wasn't such a bad idea after all.

# Chapter 41

One Year Later

Winds of change were gathering, seemingly waiting for some catalytic event to trigger the storm. A perfect example was the long-defunct world health organisation. Attempts to coalesce regional remnants of a medical watchdog were reaping global support once more.

Anarchical power bases were steadily creaking under the failure to deliver on the expectation they created. Concerted control of electronic purchasing power was achieving what conflict had not. They were heading back to being nothing more than insurgents.

Although most of the recovered cometary pebbles were fakes, there were the odd genuine pieces which had found their way into science labs rather than collectors' cabinets. As more reputable laboratories compared results, they shared concerns that these extra-terrestrial survivors contained a core of strange joined-up DNA chains.

*

The Delacroix clan, by comparison had arrived at a crucial crossroads. Elise and Geraldine had independently gravitated to a common desire for a more temperate climate. Sophie had convinced herself that she had become a sympathetic figurehead, a compassionate pied piper, but unable to actually play the pipes. Her recruitment of experts had accelerated her acceptance of her own shortcomings. Eugene was ready to sell VB Aerospace on to one of a number of suitors. One of the main difficulties had been his sister. Following almost weekly pressure from Eugene, she'd sought the assurance that the planning authority would only approve a buyer willing to maintain what was now the established 'Sophie Delacroix Foundation'. A sizeable chunk of VB Aerospace sale proceeds would then be gifted to the municipality, in exchange for a pledge to ring-fence the facility for the benefit of the people of Guiana. Julien had his wish without having to do anything other than nod his head. Returning to France felt like a homeward-bound journey from an extended pilgrimage. A rejuvenation of the soul. The only real dilemma which held up the process was the suitability of each interested acquisition company or entrepreneur. Eugene and Julien were in agreement that a pure speculator such as futuristic 'Lunar Discovery Experience' was not the kind of legacy they wanted.

*

The tenuous amalgam of regional health bodies nervously put together a recommendation. It could be no more than that, as they didn't yet have the requisite authority. In a carefully worded statement they advised the Australian member representative to extend the exclusion zone in the outback. This new urgency came because there was now hard practical evidence to back up their prior analytical findings from the cometary pebbles. Several Rangers in the outback had independently reported instances of cannibalism in various herbivore species which spawned large litters and had a short gestation period. A global call for all cometary pebbles to be returned to the region was broadcast. They would be stored in a deep freeze vault until they could be rendered safe, whatever that meant. The response to both requests was slow, unlike the rise in humans being bitten by animals they knew previously as timid. More thorough analysis of the pebbles which were returned for examination underlined the concern. There was evidence that some of the joined-up bits of DNA had developed, with the assistance of high ambient temperature, to full-blown unfamiliar viruses.

*

VB Aerospace became Pan American Solar Exploration Inc. Julien and Eugene had opted for a consortium of component industry companies with a vested interest in founding an extra-terrestrial domain. The long term vision was based on the philosophy that even though the asteroid had been defeated, there would be more external threats and internal dereliction of managing population growth and climate change.

The family return to Lyon was now a formality and preparations were at an advanced stage. They would never forget Guiana and its people, but it wasn't quite the same without the various challenges they had all faced while living there. However, it was also a step into the unknown for Reuben, one which he enthused about. Sophie's return to her homeland was contingent upon his desire to be with her. It had been an apprehensive time for her because he was so laid back, agreeing to anything. She had harangue him time and time again to think this through for himself, promising that she would stay in Guiana with him if he wanted that. The answer was always the same – "What's to think about?"

*

Julien, Elise, and Geraldine were disembarking from the aircraft, keen to inspect their new homes in Lyon. Eugene, Sophie, and Reuben had commitments to see through before they could leave.

The real estate people had done an excellent job in finding apartments for them. Julien and Elise had agreed on a penthouse overlooking the confluence of the two rivers, the Rhone and the Saone. A generous curved balcony offered a truly sweeping vista of river traffic and distant hills. It felt like the heartbeat of the city without the clogged arteries of street traffic. Geraldine had opted for a ground floor condominium in the adjoining building. She had access to a concierge and communal lounge.

One of Eugene's priorities was a safety deposit box in Lyon. He'd asked his father to set it up for him. The urgency was to head off any problems with the viral immune infiltration research. He'd kept copies of every detail, culminating in his severance letter to the young researcher who'd carried out the work without permission. His dismissal was deemed as a breach of company policy, all specimens had been destroyed, and only one copy of the reports was filed as evidence of its suspension. Realistically, he was confident the documents would never be needed, but one could never be too careful with stuff like this, allegations of playing God could arrive out of nowhere like a flash flood.

Five Weeks Later

Intense testing of the pebbles continued to throw up strange data, but one laboratory in particular had identified and isolated a characteristic which sent tremors around the planet. Using cultures of altered stem cells as a potential host for the unfamiliar virus resulted in explosive growth of cell doublets, each 'twin' of which was unstable. Around the clock observation revealed a battle to the death of one or the other. By assigning Alpha and Beta references the scientists were able to conclude that the Beta types were tolerated for so long before they were attacked. The next phase of interaction was utterly bizarre. If the Alpha unit gained sufficient control of the Beta version, it began to eat it. Suddenly twins became an only child which then went on the rampage for doublets which had become Beta dominant. Because the odds were stacked in favour of the Alpha type, the petri-dish environment gradually but inexorably gravitated to being Alpha-only, and once this was achieved they became dormant. It took many attempts before the researchers could produce a Beta-only petri-dish. Mixing the two dormant cultures then heralded a kind of brief marriage, which was blessed on average with four doublet cells. In three out of four unstable doublets, the Alpha prevailed. The scientists debated whether they should test unaltered stem cells as the culture medium. There was unease amongst their ranks, as some of the team members felt this was akin to waving a firearm about with a finger on the trigger, and the safety catch in the off position. Microbiology roulette.

*

Sporadic reports of complications ensuing from the ever-increasing number of bites by more and more tame species led to a new investigation. There were signs of different parts of a medical tapestry joining up to illustrate a frightening possibility.

Working forwards from pebbles and backwards from those afflicted from the bites, there was no escape from the conclusion. Every single element in this study showed the presence of this new unfamiliar virus. Panic began to take hold. Leading microbiologists met to analyse the links. Plant life had been affected. Burrowing insects and mammals had gorged on such flora. The food chain had then facilitated onward transmission, accelerating the spread of infection. The truth had to be faced, those already bitten only represented the direct means of infection, and were a mere fraction of those in some stage of incubation. Species jumping was widespread and modes of proliferation were equally flexible. Eugene was invited to join the analytical team and he spoke with his father before making a decision.

"Listen, son, I'm not going to try to influence you on this issue. I faced similar situations myself, and if they taught me anything, it was that it ultimately comes down to what you're fighting for, and what you're fighting against. Do what you think is right."

"I guess that's about what I expected you to say. Nevertheless I needed to hear it. From what I've seen and read, this is a virus like no other. It has created itself from bits of DNA which have been travelling around the solar system for millennia. Having seen some of the components, it suggests that a similar virus has existed somewhere in the cosmos prior to a link up with the comet. The one we have here was already primed to reincarnate in favourable conditions. Many of the individual bits of the DNA are recognisable to us, but others are not. I have the feeling that these strange helixes were alive but in stasis, whereas the recognisable parts would not be classified as living until they were somehow enlisted by the living ones after they 'awakened'. This, if true, would be a first, and may be very difficult to eradicate."

"It sounds like you've talked yourself into joining the fight."

"I guess so. Mum and Sophie won't like it but I have to go to Australia. There's something I want to share with you, Dad. Just in case this virus gets totally out of our control, I want you to be the guardian of the research reports I asked you to put the safety deposit box here in Lyon. Even though it's a little premature for me to be sure, there seems to be some commonality with the virus in the cometary pebbles. There are distinct signs that a similar infiltration of the immune system is involved. And when I thought more about it, the subsequent fight to the death of the so-called Alpha and Beta units within the same doublet isn't so dissimilar to the way in which I treated Sophie's schizophrenia. I know this sounds like a big leap of logic, but the consequences would be dire if I'm right. Why? Because one of the major differences when comparing the technique I used for Sophie to the pebble virus is that it already has a built-in creator mechanism, able to link and utilise other chunks of DNA. This has to stay between the two of us for now, and I'll keep in touch regularly unless they take me away in a straightjacket. This isn't some regular pandemic which will respond to conventional eradication medicines and quarantine."

"Hold on, Eugene. What the hell am I supposed to do if you are right and you don't survive the fight against this bloody virus?"

"Amongst the reports, you'll find the young researcher's name. I haven't got a clue of his whereabouts now, but he should be tracked down. I wouldn't be surprised if he has found another way to take his work forward, he's obsessed with it, but he is also extremely gifted in understanding what goes on at the cellular level of life. He should be contacted and questioned over any approach which will give us an edge over this threat. If you have to do this for me, time will be of the essence. We are already looking at an exponential rise in complications with those who have suffered bites, and we have no idea how the complications will develop or mutate."

# Chapter 42

Australia 2042

Eugene's contact with his father on this occasion confirmed that the battle was being lost. Despite other members of the multi-national panel fighting the war, he believed they were not only in denial, but deceiving the public.

"It all sounds a bit like my situation in Osaka all those years ago, Eugene. What will you do?"

"Well, that's not an easy question to answer, but I would like you to begin a search for this young researcher I mentioned. Someone has to be prepared to break ranks if we're going to make any progress at all. Of course, it's more complicated than your Osaka situation. The virus doesn't speak our language."

"Can't you show your colleagues all of the reports and set up a team of prominent microbiologists to pick up where this young man left off."

"Not really, Dad. First of all, there's the refusal to admit abject failure by the people running this Commission. Regarding the young researcher's work, there's the abyss between recipe and technique. A lot of what is in the report is vague by definition, protection of the novelty of the idea which could be usurped before patents were granted. Much of the fine detail of the work is in this young man's head. We don't have time to start from scratch again. These fools over here have wasted that period already. I also think you need to be frank with the rest of the family, Dad. It's only a matter of time before I face the lottery of infection, in fact, some of my colleagues have succumbed in recent days. I don't want to get into speculative scaremongering but we do have to face reality. A reasonably statistical validity has been assigned to something we have discovered in the last week. Whether by bites or airborne infection, and any process between the two, a sub-species is being nurtured in significant numbers of patients. These deviants initially appear to us as chronic schizophrenics, but regardless of any treatment, a resolution takes place. The aggressive strain wins at least three-quarters of the struggles. We've also discovered that they can recognise other humans who've undergone such a struggle purely by looking at them, never having seen them before. The price paid for such close monitoring has unfortunately led to infection of the people treating them. This has primarily been done by bites from the patients. Not merely as a defensive action, but as nutrition. Some of my colleagues have been discovered with flesh stripped away from the bone. Most of them didn't survive, but those who did are now classified as Homo Diversitus. I'm not supposed to disclose this to anyone, Dad. So, I'm making preparations to come home. I just hope I make it before I run into one of these 'creatures' without being able to recognise what they are; they just look like the rest of us. Anyway, the young researcher's name is Brandon Mitchell. He's an American citizen, but he could be anywhere. I hope you can use some of your previous contacts to help locate him without causing too much attention."

"Take that as read, Eugene. Now, for hell's sake get yourself out of there. I'm not going to enlighten your mother or sister about what you've told me, as they'll just freak out. It can wait until you get back. Let me know when you'll arrive as soon as you can."

*

Having mulled over the names of people he could trust, there was really only one person to handle the request without having to make direct references to the nuances at play. He called Alexei Bondarenko at Pan American Solar Exploration Inc.

"How are things going, my friend?"

"Julien, it is great to hear from you. Everything is fine here. These people offered me a nice senior position, believe it or not without too much pressure, no politics or Mafia. I was not prepared to go back to Russia so I am content with life in Guiana now. Is this a social call? No, I must be stupid asking such a question. What can I do for you?"

"It's partly social, well at least on behalf of my son, Eugene. As you may know he was part of this Australian thing in the outback."

"Yes, I saw him on TV a few times. What do you mean, was part of the project?"

"I guess he just got fed up with all the red tape on how to proceed and he hates the climate out there. Apparently, he thinks they never follow any of his suggestions so he's quitting."

"Sorry to hear that, so why did you need to tell me?"

"Eugene wants to link up with an old employee who worked for him in the microbiology lab. He's going to take a break from work and do a bit of travelling. Anyway, he's lost touch with the guy, and in the move to Lyon, he seems to have misplaced his contact details. I thought that there could still be some personnel stuff there from the old VB Aerospace days. Or better still there could be co-workers still there who know where he went after leaving, you know, it was before the sale of the company. I'd appreciate any help, Alexei, but if you can't then it's no big deal."

"It is always a big deal with you, Julien. We both retain some symptoms of Ivan Kolorov disease. I will check it out and then you can tell me the real reason. Ok, what is his name?"

"Alexei, I'm too old and tired for cat and mouse talk. I just want to see my son happy again. He seems totally traumatised by the bureaucracy in Australia, I wonder where he gets that from? The name is Brandon Mitchell. I can't say whether or not I ever met him, I just can't remember. Eugene says he was born in the USA, but all he could tell me about his appearance is that he is well over six feet tall, lean and has a small birth mark on the back of one hand, but can't remember which hand. Apparently he speaks German, not fluently but more than enough to get by."

"Fair enough. It might take a few days. I will get back to you."

The Others

He had managed what many others hadn't. His journey from the clinic to the outside world had been in no small way down to good fortune, but there had been critical decisions to take advantage of when choice raised its head. The very first was when he knew before anyone else that he was one of them. In future, recognising other Homo Diversitus individuals by sight would become a potent survival ability, in the clinic it was a certain death sentence. Many patients who were known to have 'crossed over' couldn't help giving the game away in front of human officials. Being a nurse was a serious risk either way. If you were clean, you were only a bite away from infection. If you had crossed over, then quarantine and humane termination would probably follow. This practice was one of a long list of control policies with which Eugene took issue, and yet it was never allowed to become public knowledge.

Having managed to self-diagnose, Geoffrey Nelson disappeared from the clinic before anyone suspected what had happened. His first task was to get through the checks at the exclusion zone border. Cosmetic disguise was necessary. Shaved head, no identity or bank cards, stolen overalls from a motor repair shop, and his brother's car would at least get him out of the medical hub. Food wasn't a problem, even though he didn't know why he craved uncooked meat. He became Zlatan, without a surname. The contrived accent of an immigrant would help offset complex semantics when either asking or answering questions. The subtle physiological changes in his optical ability transformed his vision of many warm blooded species. A heat pattern was available as well as the outline, at the expense of definition of features. In other words, he had a clear indicator of friend or foe, but a hazy retention of individual faces. By sheer chance he met Valerie in a side street where he dumped the car. She was, or had been, a waitress at a roadside diner. Valerie didn't yet know she'd crossed over.

"Excuse me, are you ok? You look unwell."

"Go away, I don't know you so sod off."

"It's the blurred vision isn't it?"

"How could you know that? Did that bastard who fired me at the diner tell you?"

"I'm not local, so I don't know any diners around here. I'm pretty sure you have the same problem as I do. You see others as different because of the blurring. One type looks 'hotter' than the other for the want of a better description. It seems crazy to talk about seeing heat rather than feeling it. I suppose it could be both."

"That sounds about right but how do you know so much about the problem with my eyes?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, but we both have this virus which has been in the headlines on all of the news channels. What they haven't told people is that it's out of control, and yet they are secretly rounding victims up and disposing of them to try and contain the spread, because there is no treatment or cure. You should come with me, I used to work in one of the hospitals. What other strange symptoms do you have?"

"What? Well, I began to think I was pregnant, but I was told a couple of years ago that I was infertile."

"Why did you think you were pregnant?"

"Because I'm a vegetarian, but now I have a constant craving for meat."

"Ok, in that case you mustn't fight it, you're going to need to eat meat from now on, even raw meat. It's the only way you'll survive. And you have to begin to understand that those who look hotter are the same as us, but not necessarily trustworthy. They can be depending on whether they are type A or B. The ones who don't look hot don't have the virus yet."

"What the hell do you mean, A or B?"

"Alpha's are likely to rape you, kill you and maybe even eat you. Betas can either be friendly or prepared to report you to the authorities. Then you'd be assessed as to whether you can become an agent for them, turning in those like us. Look, we'd better get out of here, I can usually tell Alphas from Betas because of my hospital training, and I can teach you to do the same. For now, you need to get off the streets."

"Ok, I'll follow you."

# Chapter 43

Julien had to excuse himself to take Bondarenko's call. Elise and Geraldine were enjoying coffee and muffins on the balcony.

"Hi, Alexei. Do you have good news?"

"I thought it was no big deal."

"Not for me it isn't, I meant for Eugene."

"Well, the old personnel records we have here were of no use at all, and there are not many technicians left here who worked in the microbiology lab at the same time as Brandon Mitchell. But one female researcher does recall some details about him. I got the idea that they might have been seeing each other for a while. She seemed to endorse the others I spoke to about him pretty much keeping his own company, a bit aloof with everyone. Anyway this lady mentioned a German girlfriend he had, and he received calls from her every few days. The more questions I asked, the more I became sure this female researcher was jealous in some way. She said this German girlfriend actually took a trip out here at some point, and there was a hell of an argument between her and Mitchell. She left in a rage according to Suzanne, the researcher. The German woman is apparently known by the name of Therese Kohl. The only other information I could get out of her before she clammed up is that Fraulein Kohl is doing a post-grad course in a London university, but which one she didn't know. Not much to go on but you should still be able to run down Therese Kohl. Hopefully she is still in contact with Mitchell."

"You never disappoint, Alexei, thanks. I'll pass this on to Eugene and I'm sure he'll be grateful enough to give you a call. You'll have to visit us when you get the chance, it would be good to catch up. Let me know if you come to Europe and we can meet up."

"Will do, now get back to your slippers and cardigan! I hope you are taking it easy, Julien. You need to after that bypass operation. I am sure Elise will see to that. Goodbye for now."

*

Eugene was in trouble. Having persuaded two of his colleagues to leave Australia for the same reasons, they had an injunction slapped on them minutes after they had given notice to quit. They were asked to sign documents agreeing to make no future reference whatsoever with regard to what was happening inside the exclusion zone. There was no specific date at which the restriction would be lifted, the default effectively meaning that they were gagged in perpetuity.

They refused such a blanket career wrecking ball attempt and were summarily put under house arrest. Their communication with the outside world was cut off, and they had a sense there was worse to come.

When Julien didn't receive his regular call, he tried to ring his son directly but never got past the unobtainable tone. He immediately engaged a diplomat in Paris to determine if there was a problem in Australia. Another week passed and he contacted the Parisian office again. The lack of detailed information bothered him despite the diplomat's reassurance that everything was proceeding as normal in the outback project. Eugene was apparently still a part of it, although at this time he was on a fact-finding mission in a more remote part of the territory, where there was no signal. Julien decided to travel to Paris and arrive at the consulate unannounced.

*

Zlatan and his new friend took temporary refuge in an abandoned shack. "We can rest for a while, but we should move on soon, because we'll have to keep our heads down when it gets light. Listen, don't tell me your real name, just pick a first name and you can pose as an immigrant like me. It will help if we get caught and questioned. We just pretend we don't speak too much English. I'm not going to tell you too much more about what's going on for now. I know too much already and the least you can be persuaded to confess the better. You mentioned earlier that you thought you were pregnant, and that might happen again. Unlike Alphas, Beta females are driven to breed. Have you had sex recently?"

"Back off, Mister. My boyfriend knows I can't have kids. You said you're a Beta, but you also said Alphas would rape me. Are you some kind of pervert? Maybe we should split."

"For hell's sake calm down. I can help to keep you safe, but if you don't believe me you can leave at any time. For the record, I don't want to have sex, you just don't do it for me. Now, my name is Zlatan, how do you want me to refer to you? Or do you want to piss off?"

"Sorry, maybe I'm a bit tense, and I'm really hungry. I like Lydia."

"Great, let's get going again. I'm pretty sure we'll come across a few burrows around here and we can try to catch something to fend off the hunger.

*

Cold-calling at the consulate was frowned upon, but when the diplomat heard it was the man who'd saved the planet, he began to think about delegating the problem to his boss. Julien was ushered into the ornate office and asked to sit.

"Just exactly what do you think we can do for you Mr Delacroix? We have checked this out several times with our people on the ground out there, and they continually assure us that your son is out on field duties where he cannot easily be contacted."

"In that case, get one of your people to go to where Eugene is working. Have them take some portable communication technology with them so that my son can reassure me! For goodness sake, I've had many a conversation with my people out in space, we're only talking Australia here."

"There is an exclusion zone in place and for good reason. There is a potentially dangerous virus in the area."

"Precisely, and that's what worries me. My son would never have left for some place where he couldn't contact me without giving me advance notice that he'd miss a call or two. We have that kind of understanding. Now, if you want me to take this further I'll get my lawyer to speak to someone close to the President. Please yourself. As I see it, you get him to call me, I go out there, or you get a trip to the Elysee Palace."

"Let me make a call to Australia first. I have been relying upon my junior staff to handle this. Could you give me a moment of privacy, Mr Delacroix?"

"Fine, I'll wait outside, for a moment."

Several minutes passed and Julien was invited to return to the office.

"I'm delighted to tell you that your son will call back on this phone in about twenty minutes. Would you like coffee while we wait?"

"Why not?"

*

Zlatan and Lydia stumbled over a promising burrow after an hour or so. He lit some tumbleweed with his cigarette lighter and pushed it into the mouth of the hide. Forcing more and more dried grass into the aperture produced a thick pall of smoke. He was ready, and blew out the flames, leaving the smoke to begin its suffocating diffusion deeper into the burrow. Several small rodents burst through the tangled grass and Zlatan grabbed a few, motioning for Lydia to do the same. She watched him bite off the heads of three before she followed suit. The colder midnight air was moving in and they gorged on their kill, stripping virtually everything from the fragile bones. It was time to move on. They came to a trail which had recent tyre marks in each direction. They chose north and finally saw lights on the horizon. When they were within half a mile of them they left the road and approached over the surrounding scrubland. It was a fuel station and a rickety old house.

"We need to find a water hole, Lydia. We must clean this blood from our faces, and anyway we have to re-hydrate, it's not good for us to become too thirsty."

# Chapter 44

After an agonising wait the consulate phone rang and startled Julien. The handset was passed over to him. He didn't recognise the voice.

"Hello, is that Mr Delacroix? Julien Delacroix?"

"It is, to whom am I speaking?"

"My name is Leonard Schuster, I am Director-in-Chief of the viral containment unit in our programme here in Australia. I understand you wish to speak to your son, Eugene."

"I do, and I need to do that with some urgency. Please put him on the line."

"It's not quite as straightforward as that. We have to get him to a hotspot in the bush where we can connect you. I ask for your patience as we arrange this. It shouldn't take more than a few more minutes. Now, before you speak with Eugene, I have to ask you not to discuss anything which is related to our programme. I'm sure as a former head of a highly complex technical organisation you know that certain information must not fall into the wrong hands."

"Yes, yes, of course. Can we just get on with it? It's a personal matter I want to talk to my son about."

"Very good, Mr Delacroix, I advise you to keep the conversation as brief as possible as the connection could drop out at any time."

"Fine."

"I understand we can transfer you now, please hold."

Dead space prevailed for about thirty seconds.

"Dad?"

"Eugene? Hello? I can barely hear you."

"Yes, there aren't many transmitters near here. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

Julien sensed that something didn't gel. The last call he'd had from Eugene was in relation to getting back to Lyon.

"Well, it's really the other way around. An old university pal of yours contacted me and asked about you. Brendan or Brandon somebody. He wants to hook up with you again. He's got a new job, I think, and I told him I would check when you could be back home. I didn't mention where you were, but I know you were planning a break sometime soon. Your mother was hoping it might be for your birthday."

"That might not be possible, Dad. Everybody is working flat out here. I'll let you know when I can make it back to Lyon. In the meantime, let Brendan know I'll give him a call then."

"Ok then, Mum sends her best wishes and Sophie has settled into her apartment close to the city centre. Take care, and try to call me regularly like you used to. Bye for now."

"I will, and thanks for getting in touch, sorry about forgetting to tell you I'd be out of reach for a while."

Julien picked over the bones of what had been said and just as important, what had not. Eugene had spoken of Brendan deliberately, rather than Brandon. He wouldn't make such a mistake, and, considering Eugene had asked him to track down Brandon Mitchell, he hadn't asked for more specific information on his whereabouts. He obviously wanted to avoid anyone else knowing. Julien thanked the consulate staff and asked them to expect another request to contact Eugene if he remained out of reach for much longer.

"I hope this doesn't become the norm for me to keep in contact with my son. But, if it does, you can expect me here every week."

His parting remark was digested without words, merely an awkward smile. When Julien had left, another call was made to Leonard Schuster.

"You had better get this situation sorted out immediately. This Delacroix person has tentacles reaching into high places. If you can't resolve your concern with his son, I won't get this department involved any further. I'll advise Delacroix to come and see you in person." He clashed down the handset.

*

Zlatan spotted an old water stand pipe at the rear of the fuel station. It creaked as Zlatan turned the valve to the open position. The flow of tainted water was little more than a dribble. After their hasty clean-up, he and Lydia tentatively approached the front door of the dwelling which was an adjunct of the office. As soon as the door opened it was slammed shut again. Zlatan whispered into Lydia's ear.

"Quick, head for that place over there, it looks like a barn or a stable. The man in the house was alarmed by our presence, even though we didn't get a chance to say anything. Maybe they've seen deviants before, or been told about them being dangerous."

"But we aren't dangerous, are we, Zlatan?"

"Not yet, but that will change. I should be able to warn you in time. I didn't want to mention this until I could feel the process beginning again, but I suppose now is as good a time as any. If we get to a point of extreme hunger or thirst, we must separate."

"But why? I thought we were friends."

"We are, but in times of stress, second phase survival will kick in. I might attack you, in fact I will attack you. I would be out of control, responding to stimuli which cannot be resisted. As long as we stay nourished and hydrated this phase could take weeks or even months to begin. That's why we have to avoid Alphas, before we become Alphas ourselves. At present there is no way humans can prevent this inner struggle being resolved. The chances of Beta characteristics prevailing in this schizophrenic battle are not good. It can happen but the odds are pretty slim."

"I don't think I can handle the thought of becoming something like that. I ate the rodents, but as soon as my hunger was satisfied, it was revolting to think about what I'd just done. I don't want to go on. Why can't we hand ourselves in to someone who will help us?"

"That won't stop what is happening inside us, Lydia. Just keep faith in me for now. The humans might make a breakthrough."

"But you talk about humans, we are humans, surely, or am I going nuts already?"

"We're in transition, you have to accept that, no matter how scary it is."

Zlatan and Lydia were typical of a small minority of escapees from the exclusion zone. However, there were already reports of transition of others in pockets of bush dwellers who'd been infected indirectly by fauna and flora. Settlements such as Aborigine enclaves were effectively spreading this sperm of the gods.

The quarantine methodology of the exclusion zone was useless in the face of the ease with which the virus was capable of species jumping. Barbed wire fencing and checkpoints were irrelevant to insects, birds, mammals, marsupials, and especially plant seeds blowing in the wind.

*

Following his coded conversation with Eugene, Julien ramped up his search for Brandon Mitchell. He put out feelers in all universities within the defined London area. Registered students' details could be bought easily, despite it being illegal. The hunt was made a lot simpler because they were looking for a German name. Therese Kohl was located in the cloisters of the London School of Economics.

Julien flew over to London without delay, having been thoroughly interrogated by Elise. "Eugene needs some information and it's a bloody site less inconvenient for me than for him to fly from halfway around the world. Just relax, Elise. I'll be back tomorrow."

Fraulein Kohl was perplexed when she was asked to leave a lecture. She was even further confused when the receptionist said that the man who blew the asteroid out of the skies wanted to meet her.

"Let me apologise for springing this request on you without prior contact. It's Therese, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am Therese. I am pleased to meet you but I cannot imagine why you are here."

"Don't worry, there's nothing sinister about it. My son used to work with Brandon Mitchell and I'm led to believe he is, or was your boyfriend."

"Ah, yes, Brandon the Invisible."

"Oh, does that mean he's no longer your boyfriend?"

"Not exactly, he is more like my penfriend, he's never here. Just a moment, is your son Eugene Delacroix?"

"Yes, that's him. Brandon worked for Eugene."

"I know. Brandon was furious with him for kicking him out of your company. He said at first he would contest it as unfair dismissal, but Brandon often says he will do things and most of them never happen. I don't think he will want to speak with either you or your son."

"I can understand that, Therese, but I believe there might have been some misunderstanding. I was never involved in their spat, but I'm confident I can help Brandon if I can spend a few minutes explaining something to him."

"Good luck with that then, he is working in Japan. I can give you his phone number but I am not optimistic that he will talk to you."

"I see. Well, I'll have to take that chance. It's worth it for me to at least try. I promise you that if he doesn't want to hear what I have to say, I'll just leave it at that."

"You give me the impression that this is something important, but you have not said what it is."

"I don't actually know the details, and if I did, I couldn't tell you. Eugene says it is to do with microbiology and Brandon would benefit from speaking with him. It is obviously important because my son is working on this virus problem in Australia. That's all I can say. If you think it would be better that I don't speak with him, I must accept that."

"I suppose I could call him and ask if he wants to contact you."

"That would be much appreciated. When could you do that for me?"

"Well, with the time difference it would be best to do it now. I will call him."

Brandon took a lot of convincing before Therese passed the mobile to Julien.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, Brandon. I'm really just the messenger. I knew of your disagreement with my son, but not the detail. He wants to talk to you about some project you worked on because it apparently has relevance to this problem in Australia. He isn't able to disclose more than that to me, but asked me to find you. He can't be reached at present in the outback, but hopefully he will be back in Lyon soon. Would you be prepared to at least hear what he has to say? Or do I have to tell him to forget it?"

"I'll think about this Mr Delacroix. Give me a number where I can contact you next week."

# Chapter 45

As Zlatan and Lydia cowered in the wooden building, they watched anxiously as the torch beam approached. Through the cracks in the timber they could only see one person. A man, bare to the waist, carrying a shotgun, but accompanied by a very large dog. The man circled the entire main part of the house before heading for their refuge.

Zlatan told Lydia to stay put and keep quiet. He then shouted that he was coming out.

"I not have gun and we lost. We not want harm you and we only like a sleep place for a small time. I have hands on head and I going open door."

"Open the door but stay where you are."

The dog had not made a sound as yet and was ordered to lie down. He opened the door with one hand and then quickly placed it back on his head. Zlatan apologised for hiding in the building.

"We not mean to take anything of you, but you close door in our face without chance to tell you we desperate. We only ask to sleep."

"Where did you come from? Are you running away from the police? There's nowhere around here for another five miles."

"We escape exclusion zone, we were in danger. They kill us if we go back. We do nothing bad. But they try to take us back, only because we have virus. You help us?"

"There's been all kinds of talk about what's going on in that place. I don't want to be infected by you, or get into trouble for helping you. I want you to go, right now."

"Please, we need only some hours, we cannot sleep since we escape. We go in peace just after sleep."

"I told you to go. Now beat it."

The man raised his shotgun. Zlatan lied to him in desperation.

"My wife is with baby. I not knowing what to do."

"There's a deserted mine shaft up the road, about two miles from here. You can shelter there. Now go, I won't tell you again."

He gave an indecipherable command to the dog and it began to snarl. Zlatan nodded and summoned Lydia to join him. They were ushered on to the road again and the man retreated to his abode. Zlatan said they should hurry along the road and find the mine shaft as quickly as possible. Once they saw the entrance, he made sure it was safe and told Lydia to stay there until he returned.

"Why are you always giving me orders? You aren't my keeper. Where are you going?"

"I just want to see if I can find anywhere better than this. A place which isn't known by the locals."

She settled down and fell asleep within a few minutes. She was awoken by Zlatan's return. He was carrying a shotgun and told her to come outside. On the road was an SUV with the engine running. In the back she saw the body of both the man and his dog, each without their head.

"Have you lost your mind? What the hell were you thinking? It's a fuel station, the police will be on to this in no time. You're scaring me, Zlatan, maybe we really should split up."

"I keep trying to tell you, we **are** losing our minds! That's what it's all about. We've crossed over and we have to fight to prevent the onset of phase two. I burned the heads and cleaned up the guy's house. We need to drive to some place where we can dump the car, but we should keep the bodies as food, and we're going to need the gun. Now, come on, forget about going our separate ways. You won't last a day on your own."

"Food! There's no way I can eat human flesh, it's gross. I want to take my chance on my own. Leave me, and just go in your bloody vehicle."

"Lydia, you still don't get it do you? It's us or them. When hunger gets to the point of rage you'll eat anything. Our only chance is to stay on the run until we find someone we can trust, either human or deviant. At this moment they both have to be treated as enemies. If we can delay phase two of this infection the humans may come up with a vaccine or a treatment of some kind. If you're seriously hell-bent on staying on your own tell me right now, I'm leaving."

*

Eugene was asked once more if he would sign the pledge to remain silent with respect to the entire programme of containing the virus. He remained steadfast.

"This isn't about me, you are deluding yourselves that you still have some control in this situation. It's gone beyond anything we've dealt with before. Every hurdle we've put in its way has been overcome without any diminution of its potency. This is uncharted territory and you just won't accept it. My father has breached your ability to prevent the outside world from being blindsided with lies. You won't be able to maintain your bubble of secrecy much longer. If you accept that I'm prepared to give verbal assurance that I won't personally disclose details of your strategy, tactics, and censorship of this unmitigated disaster, will you authorise my departure? The investigation into your failure to deal with this threat is for the politicians, not me. If you persist with detaining me without legal justification, my father will ultimately fry your arses in court. He has the resource, influence and determination to demolish your huff and puff, and blow your house down. Don't ask me to sign any piece of paper which adds to this flagrant deception of the public and those who are supposed to represent them. It's your call."

"We would ask you to retire from the chamber so that this issue can be discussed by the panel. We will consider what you have said and reconvene tomorrow."

"Fine. You need to include the other microbiologists who've been prevented from returning home because they don't agree with the methodology of tackling the spread of the virus. You know there is no legality in holding us against our will. We are all of the same mind insofar as we can overlook your precipitant action as misjudgement, which you can claim has since been reviewed and rescinded."

There was a lot of whispering and gesticulating as Eugene rose to exit the chamber. His reading of the body language persuaded him to call their bluff again.

"You said we would reconvene tomorrow. I'm afraid that isn't good enough. You really ought to bring my colleagues to the chamber now. We can wait outside until you are ready to hear the form of words we can offer to assuage your concern that we'll be publicly critical of your handling of this operation in Australia."

More huddles and jabbering preceded agreement that the other microbiologists should be summoned.

*

Brinkmanship prevailed as Lydia climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV. They sped along the primitive dirt track road, continually scanning the landscape. Cresting a rise, they were confronted with another vehicle. It was stationary and skewed across the track. It appeared to be abandoned. Zlatan left the SUV engine running as they approached the other vehicle. There was no one inside, no signs of an impact, and the keys were still in the ignition. Lydia tugged at Zlatan's arm.

"There's a body in the scrub over by those bushes."

"I see it. I'll check it out, you get the keys from the SUV."

Zlatan's stealthy approach to the body came to a halt. It was the upper half of a human. He ran back to the SUV and grabbed the shotgun. Lydia declined to inspect the remains but Zlatan insisted that she stayed close to him. A sixth sense prodded him and he began to scan the entire three hundred and sixty degrees of the horizon. Each clump of bushes was assessed as he turned slowly in a clockwise direction. Suddenly he paused.

"Lydia, check that group of bushes over there, do you see anything? Don't hover, just keep scanning and coming back to it."

"It looks hot."

"Right. There's someone in there. Stay close."

"Let's just leave."

"No, there's something strange about the heat signature."

They carefully circled towards the target, the gun was cocked and ready for use. They were both breathing heavily in the direct rays of the breaking dawn. In a microsecond a massive adult kangaroo bounded from its cover at incredible speed. Zlatan only had time to swing the shotgun up to his hip, by which time the marsupial was almost upon them. Lydia screamed involuntarily as the shotgun discharged its power. It blew most of the abdomen of the creature into the dust. The stricken kangaroo's death throes echoed eerily in their ears. They backed off a few yards, spattered with blood, but able to meet the pleading eyes of the victim.

"Lydia, we must have disturbed this kangaroo while it fed on the poor bastard from the abandoned vehicle. It had a similar heat signature as an infected human, but not the same. Let's get out of here in case there are more of them. This situation is worse than I thought it was."

They scurried back to the SUV and screeched past the abandoned car, leaving a billowing dust cloud in their wake.

# Chapter 46

Even though Julien hadn't given up hope, he was quite surprised that the call from Brandon Mitchell came within three days rather than a week.

"Ok, Mr Delacroix. You said you knew very little about the situation in Australia. More to the point, you never mentioned Japan in your call. As you may know, because you were in Osaka a few years ago, there are numerous Australians here as residents and students, and even more Japanese in Australia, as residents and citizens. I have a good job in this country and I don't want it screwed up. I'm willing to speak with your son on my terms, the first of which is that you are the conduit. Secondly, and you can pass this on to him, he should try to find out more about this virus before we engage in any dialogue. A clue – there are a small number of returning students in Japan infected with this same virus. The authorities, as much as they can, are playing down fears of a pandemic. It sounds to me like they are following the example set by this multi-national task force in Australia. I haven't yet been allowed to examine any of the infected people, but from what I've heard through the grapevine, it is a completely different type of virus to anything we've ever seen on this planet. I share your son's concern, but what can be done about it is not clear. When he returns to Lyon you can call me back on this number. That's the best I can do for now."

"Thank you, Brandon. There seems to be an implication that this virus is already jumping continents as well as species. I'll certainly contact you as soon as Eugene gets back."

*

Eugene was released with his friends and was reunited with his phone.

"Hi, Dad, I'm ready to head back now. I need to check the flights and then I'll let you know my arrival time."

"Can you talk this time?"

"Yes, there were a number of difficulties last time we spoke, but all is well now. I'm on my way to the airport. So, I'll call you again from there."

The line went dead and Julien's instinct was that there was still something wrong. He had wanted to tell Eugene about finding Brandon Mitchell, but never got the chance. He was tempted to call him right back but then realised when he took the first call, Eugene's name flashed up. So it was his mobile. He would wait for his son to call again.

*

The two fugitives at last found a ravine into which they could dispose of the car. It was deep and yet had lots of verdant growth at the bottom. They put the SUV in neutral and took off the handbrake, then pushed it as hard as they could until it gathered its own momentum. They heard it bounce off the nearside of the gorge a couple of times and then they peered over the edge. To their relief it couldn't be seen.

"What do we do now?" asked Lydia.

"Eat."

"I told you, I'm not eating that man."

"Fine, leave him to me then."

She sat watching Zlatan with horror. The sight of him salivating began to affect her digestive juices. It was a completely involuntary reaction and she started to peel the skin from the dog, made easier with a hacksaw blade from the toolbox of the now defunct SUV.

"We must take only the most essential tools with us and then throw the box into the ravine."

"Whatever you say, Zlatan. Where exactly are we going?"

"We'll know when we get there. It would be really helpful if we could find refuge with another Beta. Of course it would only be temporary if they were in phase two. That would mean one of us would need to become dominant, you or me, and at least one Beta out of the three would die. But the reward might be safety for a few days or maybe a week. Let's get back to the track but be ready to take cover at all times."

"What about these... these corpses?"

"If you can't eat any more we have to throw them into the ravine. They're too heavy to carry and anyway, we must avoid being seen with raw meat. It's a pity, because we could have sliced off enough to keep us going for a couple of days."

*

Brandon Mitchell's account of Homo Diversitus having been identified in Japan was not a one-off event. Air travel, being perceived as such a necessity for mankind, had laid 'eggs' all over the planet. Some died suddenly, some incubated longer than others, but some eluded capture until they killed and became bolder, hunting in urban and suburban territory. Graphic reports of the police bringing down cannibals in broad daylight were much more difficult to suppress than similar happenings in the outback. The eventual acceptance that cities offered much more effective breeding grounds for the virus fuelled anger and protest. It should have come as no surprise that those who'd crossed over would seek out safe havens in ghettos, social dropout enclaves, camps for the homeless, and no-go areas in general. Homo Sapiens had missed a trick. Homo Diversitus had announced its fight to survive.

*

Julien was greatly relieved to see his son making his way through the throng of passengers in arrivals. He was quite tearful as he embraced Eugene.

"Let's find a quiet spot and share what we know over a coffee."

"Ok, Dad, lead on and I'll follow. I suppose it's better if we don't talk about this back home, well your home, as I don't yet have one."

"That's not exactly what I meant. The virus situation is pretty much on everyone's lips right now. Anyway, we have a responsibility to keep the family up to speed with the precautions we all have to take to avoid infection, and those recommendations may change over time. I was actually referring to your struggle to get here. That's in the past but are you able to tell me more?"

"You may have guessed, as I implied on the phone, I gave verbal assurance that I wouldn't disclose any information which would point the finger of accusation at the Australian strategy in handling the viral threat. It was no big deal because I knew their failure would eventually come out from elsewhere anyway."

"It's become a lot worse than that. You've been sheltered from the global situation while you were in the outback. I made delicate enquiries via people I knew from the time when I was tackling the asteroid. It appears it's already too late to keep the lid on public reaction and panic. Just about every civilised country has reported cases of infection. This may not have been the case if warnings had been issued from Australia earlier on the ways in which the virus could spread. People automatically think that avoiding contact with others would limit the risk, but nobody was told that eating fresh imported vegetables was a clear and omnipresent danger. Anyway, what's done is done. We have to call Brandon Mitchell, so we're having this coffee to see if you are being followed. You were prevented from leaving Australia when you decided you'd had enough, but are you sure it was only about keeping public hysteria and outright panic to the absolute minimum?"

"Yes. What else could it be?"

"Is there no possibility that some of those in command out there weren't as incompetent as they seemed to be? Could they have been among the first to be infected?"

"I doubt it, because...oh shit, I see what you're getting at. There was indeed zero tolerance of any leaking of information that those infected could visually recognise others in the same condition, and that clean subjects cannot. That edict was issued from the very top without any discussion or consensus."

"Well then, it is certainly something we have to bear in mind, starting now. Here are my car keys, it's parked at a gas station. We'll take a taxi together and stop for fuel at my regular station to fill up. You go to pay inside and I use the toilet. There's a rear door to the left of the pay point, and my car is out back. It has blacked out windows, so just drive slowly to the motel I've scribbled on this note and I'll meet you there later. When I return from the toilet, hopefully any tail will follow the taxi to my apartment. Within an hour of getting back home, I'll call your motel from a public phone and we can arrange to speak with Brandon from there."

"What did he say when you spoke with him?"

"He wasn't inclined to speak with you, but he told me he wasn't allowed to examine infected Japanese people returning from Australia. After some consideration he said he would talk with you through me. I think this is only an initial precaution for him to feel comfortable with the situation. I guess he might think that every mistake involved with this virus originated from the outback, including suppression of the truth. If that is the case, he would have justification in seeing you as part of the problem. I think I convinced him of the opposite, but we have to tread carefully."

# Chapter 47

After the family reunion and fielding as many questions as he could, Eugene explained that he and his father had to make a call. The women retired to Geraldine's ground floor apartment to ask Sophie's advice on new furnishings, including some pictures.

It seemed to take a long time for Brandon Mitchell to answer. Finally, it was re-directed and he picked up.

"It's Julien Delacroix, Brandon. I have Eugene with me at last. Do you still wish to proceed through me?"

"For now at least. Tell him to give me his understanding of where the Australian idiots are with respect to actually formulating plan B. He should realise I don't need to know any more about their disastrous efforts to merely curb the spread by a simple vaccine and quarantine approach. That's history even though they are clinging to the hope that we've seen the worst of what this thing can do."

There was a break in conversation while Eugene tried to articulate the situation through his father.

"Hello again, Brandon. Eugene expressed the same damning judgement to the heads of the Australian organisation as you have just outlined. He was ignored and side-lined from the main executive panel. However, he still had the ear of some of the scientists actually doing the work. Many of them were adamant that they would all ultimately succumb to the virus unless the mechanism for its infiltration of the human immune system wasn't allowed become the sole focus, and the only step to protecting themselves. The advice pretty much fell on deaf ears, promises were made but never kept, and the decision-making team has been decimated. Eugene has been asked not to reveal any of this and I know there is more which he will not disclose at this time. He believes you are one of only a handful of people with sufficient relevant expertise to comment. But most of the others are already dead."

"I figured as much. Ok, put him on."

Eugene cleared his throat.

"Brandon, first of all, I'd like to say..."

"Forget it, this isn't about you or me. I suppose your father told you I was excluded from post-mortems of the victims here in Japan."

"He did. That's a big part of the problem all over the planet now, at least as I understand it."

"That's right, but since I spoke to your father, I managed to get tissue from one of the victims, and although I haven't got the full results of the analytical tests, I'm already thinking that we're going to have to abandon any attempt to take on this virus by direct action. We need to learn more about its mutation protocols as well as the infiltration mechanism. You do know where I'm going with this don't you?"

"It was the reason I asked my father to find you. Am I hearing you're willing to work with me on this?"

"No, you're hearing that you can work with me. There's no other way. I have a girlfriend, parents and friends to think about, otherwise we wouldn't be talking. If you want this, come to Japan. If you don't, I'll soldier on alone."

"Ok, if that's the way you want it I'll check the flight schedules and see how quickly I can get there."

"Oh, one more detail. Bring money, lots of it. We are going to need a lab without prying eyes. I know an old building which is suitable, but we need the money for the equipment and a couple of people to pull the sled."

*

Zlatan watched Lydia as she slept under the floorboards of a long-abandoned shack. He'd been to a waterhole which was almost dried out. The shack was in total disrepair and yet it defied the principles of engineering merely by stubbornly standing there, while gradually decomposing. He looked at her differently today. She was marginally more attractive when her mouth wasn't engaged. Or was it that he was entering the first stages of testosterone overload? He turned away, trying to banish the thought of forcing himself upon her, just because he could. He woke her.

"Time to move on. I've scouted the area and there's a high point about two miles away. From there we should get a panoramic view of the options available. This shack must have been used for something which attracted people many years ago, you know, like a trading post. So, there could be a few of these people trying to survive out here rather than moving closer to civilisation. We might hit lucky. Come on, shake a leg, I left you a bird over there. It's plucked, so you can pretend it's a chicken."

"I'm still in a trance, give me a break. I need half an hour to wake up properly and I have to take a shit somewhere. Why don't you hike on your own to check out this high point. I feel like chilling out. What? Don't look at me like I'm some kind of weirdo. I'll be ok. Go on, scoot."

He pondered the trade-offs. She was going to slow him down by talking the whole way. And, she was stupid enough to start singing unless he was there to remind her to keep her trap shut.

"Ok, you win. But don't make any noise which could attract animals or worse still, scavengers who've crossed over. I can't leave the gun with you."

"I promise. Now piss off on your mission, Boy Scout. You're so overprotective, get a life, but not mine."

He turned away, straining to control his rage. He'd seen it before, an increasing spread of symptoms – a prelude to phase two.

The rising ambient temperature caused Zlatan even more difficulties. His blurred vision seemed to worsen, and the burst blisters on his feet began to sting as salty sweat found its way on to the raw flesh. He needed to rest awhile, but he couldn't find any shade. Maybe he should have waited until the sun had dropped closer to the horizon. It all changed in an instant. A pall of smoke spiralled its way skyward from the windless scrubland. His poorer vision didn't offer any clue as to the source, nevertheless he headed directly towards it. He heard the voice before he could see much detail. The dialect was a blend of English and some aboriginal words he was unable to decipher.

His mind raced. Was the person alone or speaking to someone else? Had he been spotted by the owner of this voice? What was the probability of such a person being infected? Why light a fire in this heat?

The voice adjusted to some kind of Pidgin English.

"Wadda want? Wanna cool?"

Zlatan relaxed a little. The man was alone. He seemed friendly.

"I need only shade. I don't want to disturb you."

"Yessa, I gotta some. You come."

A few more yards brought Zlatan into focus range and he could see the man erecting a primitive awning, using sticks and a blanket. He was now close enough to differentiate the man's heat signal from the relentless rising ambient temperature. He wasn't infected.

The man welcomed him and seemed genuinely pleased to see him. It suddenly clicked, the fire was to smoke out bees from their nest. Perhaps the man was a honey collector. The shade enabled his vision to equilibrate and Zlatan felt less disoriented.

"Wanna bodu," said the man.

"Bodu? What is bodu?"

"Bodu give good. Bodu magic."

"Show me bodu."

The man produced what looked like a water can. But it had a glass lid, through which Zlatan could determine the content. He quickly recoiled from the man. Although no expert, Zlatan recognised killer bees from photos he'd seen before.

"No. Thank you, but no."

"Bodu betta, medicine man not good."

"Bodu are dangerous, do you mean Bodu honey is good?"

"No trikka, Trikka nice – bodu good."

As they spoke the man ran to the smoking nest and placed another container over the exit. He was actually collecting the bees.

Zlatan was eventually able to establish that the man was from a community not too far away. He explained with some difficulty that he needed to return to pick up Lydia. The man looked at the sun and gestured that they would have to hurry. He sealed the new container of bees and followed Zlatan to find Lydia.

# Chapter 48

The frosty expression on the face of Brandon Mitchell was expected, but Eugene didn't bargain for the opening words to be a demand for proof of money being instantly available.

"Listen, Brandon, you may feel you've every right to be angry at the way we parted company, but you weren't exactly Mr Innocent. You kept information under wraps when it should have been shared. I hope I haven't wasted my time coming here. The money can be transferred as soon as we have an agreed project outline and proposals for what it needs to be spent on. If that isn't good enough I'll just book a return flight now."

"My concern isn't about whether or not I piss you off. How many times do I have to repeat myself? We simply can't afford a committee approach with this virus. Every day counts and we're already on the back foot. Apart from that, I now have all the results from my examination of the tissue of one victim. Let me put forward my overview and if you don't like it I don't need to hear your ideas or scheme."

"Well, that sounds like an ultimatum. Not a good start."

"It is an ultimatum, not from me, from the results. Do you want to hear me out?"

"Go ahead then, I'll butt in if I have issues."

"Right, feel free to do that. I'd like to start from the point at which you treated your sister's schizophrenia – the genetic snip and stitch technique. In my opinion, that will be a valuable tool for us. Turning to my own work when I was at VB Aerospace, we should run over the project results again, because I believe that some of that technique may be helpful as a secondary blitz to confuse this virus. However, there are gaps of knowledge and bucket loads of uncertainty here. Your sister's treatment only involved her, hence a single fixed DNA profile as a starting point. With my work, it was targeted at the unborn foetus, whereas here, we're dealing with infected adults. So, we must accept that our work, which may offer hope, is nothing more than two tools in the box. Are you ok so far?"

"Yes, carry on."

"The tissue analysis indicated that the victim was already going through significant changes in metabolism when termination occurred. It would be interesting to know exactly how he died. At least I can say that the virus not only has the ability to create more complex versions of itself by accepting or declining interaction with any piece of DNA, but it has an incredibly fast mutation capability. We're going to need an overarching strategy of moving the goalposts. The best analogy I can think of which people might understand is the adaptation of bacteria to antibiotics. But that happened over several decades and generations, whereas with this man's tissue there was already evidence of viral adaptation, and he was someone who was infected very recently. That's why time is critical in getting started. Well?"

"Fine. Let's look at this building you have in mind and then the equipment we need."

*

The encampment was well disguised. Sitting at the bottom of a very long, east-facing slope made it possible to gain morning shade for a little longer each day. A natural fissure where the land began to rise again had been turned into a trench and covered with multitudes of branches, twigs and even roots from the surrounding terrain.

A dozen smiling faces greeted Zlatan and Lydia. Apparently, the man with the bees was named Olla, and he obviously was a person of seniority. There appeared to be three generations present, but only one of them could be described as a young man. Olla explained that the others were all away hunting and gathering.

Zlatan couldn't quite understand the situation. Neither he nor Lydia had overreacted when they realised that some of the women and children were infected. The explanation would come, but via a circuitous route. Olla excused himself to tend to the bees. Tending wasn't introducing them to a hive. The other members of this mini-society were totally in awe of these small creatures and surrounded Olla, asking to be first.

Once the clamour had been ordered into some kind of queue, Olla took one bee out from a container and handed it to the woman who had proclaimed her right to be at the head of the line. She took the bee and tightened her fingers into a fist. The sting was instant and she screamed with delight. The process was repeated, until every one of them had suffered the pain and returned their particular bee to Olla. He promptly returned each sacred insect to another container. The dead bees were revered as having given a quantum of life back to those who were ill. The next surprise was presumably a song of tribute to the bee god, after which they all returned to their own part of the trench for a short nap.

"What is happening with the bees, Olla?"

"Olla see you havva Norra. You not see I know?"

"Norra? I don't know what you mean."

"You verra hot, woman verra hot. From Norra."

It began to dawn on them. Olla was infected, but they couldn't see it, even though he could see they were.

"Norra is hot?"

"No, Norra makes hot."

"Hot like the first woman who was stung by the bee?"

"Yessa."

"Ah, so bee is bodu?"

"Yessa."

"And trikka is honey?"

"Yessa."

"So you know you are very sick?"

"Wassa verra sick. Not sick now. Woman sick now. Bodu make me not sick."

"You mean the bee sting made the sickness go away?"

"Not one bodu, many time bodu must sting. Need many bodu. Olla finds many bodu."

"I'm sorry, Olla. Can I just ask again? You had the hot sickness, which is Norra, and you found out that bodu stings many times and you don't have Norra anymore?"

"Yessa. You and woman must have Bodu sting. Yessa?"

Zlatan and Lydia looked at each other incredulously.

"I must ask one more question, Olla. When you were sick with Norra, did you eat lots of different animals?"

"Yessa. Eat many animals and Feranna."

"Feranna?"

He pointed at a primitive drawing on the trench wall, in which there was one figure eating a headless human.

"Olla stop eating Feranna. Bodu magic. Bodu stop Olla eating Feranna."

Zlatan and Lydia asked for a moment to discuss this proposal.

"What do you think?" whispered Zlatan.

"You're asking me what I think, is this for real? You're always telling me what to do. Ok, here's what I think. You should try out this mumbo-jumbo for a few days, and if it's safe I'll give it a shot. These people seem to like us so I can catch up on my sleep. They'll probably get food for us too, and that really would be cool. Of course this Olla dude might just be high on bee sting juice."

"No, he isn't. We couldn't see any heat signature coming from him."

"Ok, let's say he is off-heat, it could be temporary, like it comes back when you stop the bee stings."

"I'd take that, it would allow me to get back into the exclusion zone to tell someone I trust, about what these people have stumbled upon. Unless there's a miracle breakthrough soon, this is as good a second best as we're going to get."

He turned back to Olla.

"I want to start bodu stings."

"Yessa."

Proceedings were interrupted by the young hunter-gatherers returning. Zlatan noted that some were infected and others weren't. He turned back to Olla.

"What happens if I start the sting and then..."

"Pay no attention to him, Olla," said Lydia, "he's just a fizz mouth, gimme a bodu."

One of the young men intruded.

"Olla my father. He had bees all his life, taking honey from them. He cannot feel stings now. I must have care with the bees. Too many can kill. You need check before sting. I will give you check for bad reaction."

He looked Lydia up and down, then turned his eyes to Zlatan, clearly making some kind of assessment.

"You have some of our blood in you, and you are hot, but him, he is different, very hot. He has sickness bad. Will need many bees. Come."

Zlatan assumed the young man was going to offer a primitive check for an allergic reaction to the bee venom and was implying that Lydia may have more resistance to the virus because of her ancestry. She had her own take on the young man and whispered some advice to him.

"Listen, Zlatan, I don't want to spend the rest of my time living and shitting in the bushes. If I'm going to die anytime soon, I'd better enjoy the now. This young dude, he kinda stirs my juices, and I wouldn't mind being stung by him, bee or no bee. So, I'm ready to take my chance, and if you pass his test you should head back to see whoever this person is that you trust inside the exclusion zone. Maybe I can come back then, when I'm clean and ready. Deal?"

Zlatan nodded his acceptance. The very fact that deviants were living alongside norms convinced him that there was something important to learn from these people.

# Chapter 49

The building Brandon had selected wasn't ideal in many respects but at least it was pretty inconspicuous, which was crucial.

"What about the technicians?"

"There are two excellent colleagues where I work, and they're ready to help, but that's another thing we have to consider. All three of us have to continue to work during the days, at the company. We can only do this stuff in the evenings, otherwise there will be suspicion. My two friends are taking a hell of a risk here and we need to pay them well. You can work here during the day and keep track of what's happening with this virus around the world. The equipment we need is on order and can be delivered whenever you authorise payment. One other thing, the Australian project, and probably others, made a serious error in designing experiments with this virus. Trying out the actual 'magic bullet' before we have all the other constituents of a vaccine ready is doomed to failure. I'm stressing this to remind you of its incredible ability to mutate. We need our own Trojan Horse as part of the solution, administered at the same time as the first two components of the vaccine. Deception is an essential, but one-shot ally with this baby."

"That's quite a lot for us to swallow, four of us against the big companies throughout the world. But, I agree that the only way to stop this thing is to ignore the rules, or better still, accept that the first rule is that there are no rules. So, who do we have to see to rent this place?"

"It's a back-street guy. He owns a number of rundown properties like this. It's cash on the first of every month, no questions asked. I've paid the first month, so if you can reimburse me we're already the tenants. You ok with that?"

"I don't seem to have much choice. Let's go and pay for the equipment. When do I meet your colleagues?"

"Like I said, there's no time to waste. Tonight at seven."

*

Brandon Mitchell wasn't exaggerating, the situation was reaching a potential 'no way back' point. In particular, the centres of highest population density, urban areas, were witnessing massive numbers of reported abductions, disappearances, half-eaten bodies, and public altercations between deviants and norms. The inexorable result of the latter was clear; even if a norm managed to win a gladiatorial conflict, they would end up infected. In reality, they could never truly win or even tie, the norm count could only decrease by one, and this alone guaranteed the onward march of the deviants. A frightening prospect to be contemplated was precisely how far up organisations such as banks, law enforcement, and government the scourge had gained control.

One technology company had claimed they'd produced a successful hand-scanning device which could identify deviants at a range of five metres. Debates had ensued on whether mass access to such equipment would simply generate uncontrollable panic in the streets. It was never concluded; the company production plant was levelled to the ground by explosives.

*

Lydia had felt no particular after-effects from her first bee sting and asked for another.

"Let's get my recovery moving. By the way, what's your name?"

"Suma. It is the name of my mother's father. She died, I was young."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, I should lie down and get some sleep. Will you check if I'm ok later?"

"Yes. It is important."

He turned to Zlatan and asked him to hold out his hand. This was going to be much worse than a bee sting. Suma's grip was prodigious and was tightened to mask the pain of pushing a hollowed out tube into his lower arm. A kind of local anaesthetic handshake. Suma produced a tiny wooden dish to collect blood before handing Zlatan a piece of cloth to staunch the wound. The patient almost passed out while Suma mixed a yellow paste with the extracted blood.

"We will wait for tomorrow."

"Why?" said Zlatan.

""Yellow must find the truth."

"What will it tell us?"

"Everything to know if you are safe."

"Some of your people have the sickness, but you said Lydia would be ok because she had some Aborigine blood in her family."

"Yes. Lydia is not so hot. Others of our people are hot. Some bad blood."

"I see. What happens if my blood is bad?"

"You die."

"Great. What if my blood is good?"

"We can give you bee sting. Only one for every moon. Not like Lydia."

"Ok, how many stings before I begin to get better?"

"Sunrise will tell us. We need all truth, not some truth."

"I'm sorry to keep asking questions but if I have good blood how many stings will I need? I must go back to my home."

Suma raised ten fingers and then another ten.

"Shit. You mean twenty moons?"

"Or more. You will not talk to others at your home about bees."

"Of course not. You can trust me."

*

After meeting with Brandon's two recruits, Eugene was more than happy with the entire plan. He phoned his father with the news and confirmed that he would be working in Japan for at least the next year or so.

"I expect to get home maybe once a month, depending on how things go here, but I need to pull the rug on the apartment I had lined up, at least for now. Can you do that for me please?"

"Naturally. It will only take an email. I suppose you want me to tell your mother and Sophie about your extended stay?"

"That would be great, Dad. I have another request of you though."

"Ok, let me hear it, I can always hear it in your voice. It's tricky isn't it?"

"It could be for me, being the black sheep which deserted the Australian clique which thinks it is still **the** authority on world health risks. Brandon and the rest of us are going to have to cut many corners to have any chance of defeating this virus. One of the components of the plan is to design some organic molecule, one which we don't really know the structure of yet, or exactly what it has to achieve in terms of specific interaction with the virus. So, here in Japan, we can't be both under the radar and demanding information of national health organisations at the same time. We need to adjust our targeting as things develop across all continents. You had contacts in all of them with VB Aerospace. We just need regular updates on the spread of the virus and any differences from one part of the planet compared to the others. I don't mean the dross which is fed to the press. That stuff is all stage-managed to fool most of us. I need to know about any changes in scientific approach regarding mutation of the virus, and this kind of information won't be released to the public as it happens. However, these changes will undoubtedly occur, and knowing when is critical for us. The kind of thing I'm talking about could be any of the following – appearance of a new genus of pharmaceuticals, approval of substances which are claimed to slow the infection by means other than oral intake, official endorsement of natural or homeopathic remedies, and trends in burial or cremation of the ever-increasing number of corpses, regardless of religion. I know this might sound a bit far-fetched, but it is important, because at present the health organisations are being forced into reactive mode, and we must become proactive or this fight will definitely be lost. I'm sure you know people who know people who know some of the decision makers. There are bound to be leaks, people sworn to secrecy, we need to be in on them. Guys like Bondarenko come to mind."

"Let me think about this, Eugene. I think I understand what you said, but I should give it more consideration if I'm going to avoid giving you bum steers. Call me again in a week."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm now able to appreciate what you went through in the years leading up to finally killing off the cosmic threat. Speak to you soon."

# Chapter 50

One Month Later

Lydia was now on four stings a day, each on a different part of the body. She no longer had the symptoms of a deviant and she was back on a vegetarian diet. She was so grateful to Suma, so much so that he was quite fatigued with her nightly visits to his private section of the trench.

Zlatan was impatient, especially as he could see no heat signature when looking at Lydia. Some of Suma's relatives were not making the same progress that she had, and this was causing tension within the camp. Zlatan had passed the allergen test and was on a single sting per day, but as yet there was no discernible retreat of his desire for meat or his blurred vision. Lydia's presence didn't help.

"Relax, hot boy, you'll know when to expect some change. I keep telling you that your shit will change colour. Then you'll have the 'green' light, ha-ha."

"Very funny. You never think about anyone but yourself, do you, Lydia? Every day I spend here is one less for humans to find a vaccine. Would you take a message back to the exclusion zone for me if I don't make it?"

"No way. I'm going back to where I used to live, once Suma tells me I'm stable. You can't seem to live in the now, Zlatan. Anyway, how do you know those bastards in the exclusion zone won't kill you? Maybe they won't believe you're not a threat any more. Remember, these people, including me, aren't cured – we're just free from the symptoms, and we don't act like these Alphas or Betas you keep banging on about. They're sure to ask how you've changed from being fully infected, and you know Suma said we can't talk about the bees. The stings are his peoples' only hope and there won't be enough of it to share with the pigs that disowned us. You're on your own with them."

Zlatan reflected on what she said. For once, she appeared to have given some serious thought to the problem, even if it sounded like justification of her apathy. He decided to pester Suma to increase his stings to two a day.

*

Although Eugene had not earmarked it, one pivotal point emerged, which could easily have been included in the request to his father, the one regarding social trends. Whether it was obvious in hindsight, or had been considered as a low priority assignment, the disposal of human waste now entered the equation like a wind of fertility.

Because of the rapidly changing ratio of deviants to norms, landfill became land-dumping. The chances of workers becoming infected from handling waste was the main driver, aided and abetted by many of the decision makers having crossed over. A self-reinforcing trend. The stockpiling of waste, literally at every doorstep, was a potent facilitator for the virus. Added to that, recycling had petered out, by precisely the same reasoning. Burning personal waste became a daily chore for everyone, a step back in time, in which neighbours actually interacted as opposed to merely being people who lived next door. In itself an additional march to infection.

The Japanese lab had been hurriedly thrown together, but at least it was now operating. Initially, Eugene would work independently on the primary infiltration refinements, and more draconian changes to schizophrenic resolution. Brandon and his cohorts would make intensive efforts to reproduce the capability of physical distortion he had created in embryos, but this time in living volunteers. His vision was rooted in sowing seeds of temporary metabolic chaos, not the growth of new appendages, or all-over body hair, or radiation resistant dermal change. A random symbiotic ally to join with Eugene's procedural snip and stitch technique. The third strand, a Trojan Horse, would only be tackled when the others had been completed. It would, of necessity, have to derive part of its purpose from the prevailing trends to whichever direction the virus was heading. A trap had to be founded upon surprise.

Just how long they could cope with working eighteen hour shifts was another concern. However, they needed no other incentive than the recent capitulation of the health organisations in reporting numbers of known infected individuals. The rate at which this had escalated had eventually overwhelmed the system, and of course carried the additional implied threat that unknown infection numbers were probably much higher.

*

Against his better judgement Suma was weakening in the face of Zlatan's request.

"Suma, I don't seem to have any problems with the sting, so let me have two each day and see what happens. I can return to one if I have any bad reaction."

"Not good idea, my father knows from many years ago."

"Well, maybe so, but I am a nurse, sorry I was a nurse, and I understand these things. I promise to tell you if it makes my sickness worse."

"I ask father."

"No, listen, I can see you would like to see Lydia go home. What if I take her with me? If I remain on only one sting each day, she could be here for months."

"Mmm, Lydia go with you – will it be true?"

"Of course, I guarantee it."

The bargain was struck. After only four days the extra venom began to take effect. Defecation turned green. Forty-eight hours later his vision started to clear, and Suma declared that he wasn't so hot.

When Suma asked about Lydia's departure, Zlatan faked concern.

"Unless I show normal heat level for humans, I can't go back, and Lydia will not go by herself. What should we do?"

Suma paced up and down, gesticulating to the heavens, muttering some Aboriginal request to the gods.

"No stay."

"No stay where?" asked Zlatan.

Suma ran off without replying. When he returned several minutes later, he had a beaming smile on his face.

"You go, Lydia go."

"I can't, I've already..."

"Bodu are in box for you, many bodu, many bees."

"Where?"

"I show you. A secret place. Nobody can see. You get Lydia."

It was quite a convoluted conversation.

"Come on Lydia, we have to leave."

"You still have a deviant heat signature."

"I know, but Suma's old man wants us gone. Apparently the main nest of the bees has been deserted. Olla blames us for the extra usage. Suma thinks his father will concede to pressure from those who aren't responding, to terminate us."

"The bastard, you mean stop our treatment?"

"No, stop our bloody breathing. Just get your stuff, now. We have to go."

"What if the symptoms come back?"

"We'll have to worry about that later. But Suma has stashed a container full of bees for us to take, and he is going to show us where it is. There's absolutely no time to lose."

"Does Suma know I'm leaving? He'll be angry."

"He's angry at this father, but he knows you'll be safer away from here. The guy's a real star. He thinks the world of you, and he wouldn't take such a risk if it was just me his father was going to kill. For hell's sake stop bleating and pick up your stuff or I'll have to tell him we'll take our chance with the old man."

They followed Suma to the hide and he looked around before taking the container and passing it to Zlatan.

"Go. Father back soon. I must be in trench when you gone."

Lydia threw her arms around Suma's neck and forced her tongue between his lips. Zlatan yelled at her.

"You're risking the guy's life. If you don't come now, I'm going alone, and you don't know the way back."

"Think of me, Suma. Don't forget me."

"Give him a break. How could he possibly forget you?"

They rushed off in the direction of the track where they'd found the abandoned car, not looking back, but hearing the angry bees protesting against the jostling to which they were being subjected.

# Chapter 51

Eugene's call to Lyon elicited very mixed news. Julien had some initial reports from around the globe to pass on to his son. However, he felt it was necessary to cover the local situation first.

"I hardly know where to start. Sophie and Reuben have moved in with us, as has Geraldine. The streets are completely lawless now. Sophie's district was a desirable place to live just a few months ago. But, being near the city centre is not advisable any more. Our apartment isn't so badly affected, but as Geraldine's is on the ground floor we thought she would be safer in the penthouse. Her neighbour had a break-in and was badly beaten by the burglar, who thankfully wasn't a deviant, but could have been. Society is falling apart and I shudder to think what lies ahead."

"Hell's teeth, do you want me to come back, Dad? I feel so impotent sitting here. I know we have important work to do, but I cannot just ignore the risk to my family."

"No, Eugene, you and the other microbiologists around the world are the only ones who can stop this plague. I have some information for you and it paints a depressing picture. Let me start with my friends from the observatories, specifically in Chile and South Africa. They both claim that temperature seems to have an effect on the rate of spread of the virus, the regions closer to Antarctica seem to be faring better than those further north. They also concur on the subject of an alarming increase in the numbers of deviants in positions of influence in cities. They are reporting that the Alphas reach a stage where they can lead double lives, cannibals one minute and ultra-sophisticated the next. The South African people mentioned a departure from long-established behaviour of certain migratory birds. Gigantic flocks of small avian species have started attacking lions. Apparently, they swoop in Kamikaze style, sacrificing numbers to peck out the lion's eyes and then they completely cover the beast, layer upon layer, the weight of which eventually brings the beast down, and the birds ultimately strip the carcass to the bones, wasting absolutely nothing. I also took your hint and asked Alexei Bondarenko to give me the rundown on the USA and Russia. Once again we have a picture of places nearer the Arctic Circle being less affected by the virus, because of the relative cold. However, he said the Russians were treating any suspicion of being a deviant as justification for killing the subject. In America, he said there is concern that the intelligence organisations, which were already struggling under the welter of civil unrest demonstrations, have basically ceased to function. Europe is in a serious mess, in no small way because of the refugee camps disintegrating and blending into the chaos. The Middle-Eastern states have suspended oil production quotas to the West, and communication of the reason for this action isn't forthcoming. That in itself has fuelled suspicion that it is centred on their belief that it would give the virus a helping hand to redefine the world pecking order in any immediate post-apocalyptic period. Well, that's about it really, I hope this is the kind of general stuff you asked for."

"Absolutely. It's very useful in terms of where we could begin testing any remedial treatment, if indeed we can develop a sufficiently promising candidate. You didn't mention Australia, Dad. Any particular reason?"

"Putting it very simply, it's a black hole. No information escapes the exclusion zone. Nobody knows how bad things are. Conspiracy theories abound, the main one being that the whole viral problem is being masterminded from there."

"Ok, thanks for the effort you've spent on this. I won't expect too much more in view of the situation in Lyon. Speak to you again soon, Dad. Best to the rest of the family."

*

Having parted company with Lydia, Zlatan approached the exclusion zone with some trepidation, perspiring profusely even though it was almost midnight.

The checkpoint was manned by two guards he'd known well. They raised their rifles.

"What the hell are you doing here? We've been told you were infected and then died."

"That doesn't surprise me. I was infected and if I hadn't escaped I would surely be dead. I'm no longer sick and I have to see my old boss."

"Oh yeah, and how do we know you aren't sick anymore? Nobody survives this virus. Just keep your distance, we're authorised to shoot if a deviant doesn't do exactly as we say."

"So, what are you going to do with me?"

They looked at each other, and the second guard replied.

"You aren't talking like a deviant. What's your name?"

"Geoffrey Nelson, but you both know that. I'm a nurse and I got infected by a patient I was trying to help. Look, I'm willing to take any test my boss thinks is appropriate to check if I'm a risk. I have no idea how or why I survived, but the top brass will be pissed off if you let me walk away from here without being examined. That is, unless they already developed a vaccine. It's your call boys, and I'm not going to stand here all night."

The guards appeared to be in a quandary.

"Your boss isn't here right now, he doesn't work nights."

"I know that, so it would be a good time to call him at home, when your superiors aren't here. You don't get it, do you? I'm living proof that some humans can survive this curse. Make up your mind."

The first guard picked up the phone and dialled the number. It was a very short conversation.

"He's on his way. You have to stay right where you are until he gets here. Don't move an inch."

"I'm tired, and it would be appreciated if you let me sit down exactly where I am. My boss will want me awake and able to answer questions. Don't make me threaten to leave again, my boss would have you both locked up if I did."

The second guard handed him a chair.

*

In discussing Eugene's father's information there was agreement that the most interesting item was the increase in the numbers of Alphas rising to positions of power in a crumbling society. The fascination was with the alleged transition from 'cannibal to politician' and back again. The proverbial Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. They couldn't exclude the possibility that this was in fact a third stage of some kind of metamorphosis. Yet it seemed so fanciful in view of the knowledge that phase one infection was so characterised by resolution of two personalities to a single, obsessional drive to literally consume the enemy. They would have to think again about the function of the Trojan Horse they wanted to employ.

"It's the final stage which worries me most," said Brandon, "recognising and targeting cannibals will be easier than ferreting out plausible chief executives and government big shots, especially if the tests for infection become compromised by the shift from phase two to a third phase."

"Yes," replied Eugene, "that had occurred to me, and maybe even phase three isn't the final state of a deviant. If there are further mutations to come, I don't think microbiology can offer the capability to adjust in such short timeframes. Unless we can prevent progression from one phase to another."

Brandon shook his head. "Well, we can forget about phase one to phase two for that approach. They are all over the planet already. Hopefully this phase three, if your father's reports are validated, has a longer residence time. It's hard to imagine what it could progress to. The drive from infection to cannibalism is relatively logical. The ability to switch from mindless flesh eating to intelligent management of norms is a hell of a leap, even if it is partitioned by some arbitrary stimulus such as hunger. All it really does is to underline our strategy to leave the Trojan Horse until we have the other components ready. It's counter-productive to worry about this until everything else has been checked off."

"Ok, let's get back to work."

*

Zlatan's boss arrived and told him to stay put until he could retrieve his isolation suit from his locker. He brought a disposable one for the suspected deviant to put on.

When they were in the isolation lab he scribbled something on a piece of paper. It read, 'Why didn't you call me directly instead of exposing your presence to the two guards?'

Zlatan grabbed the pen and wrote his one word reply.

'Insurance.'

'I don't understand.'

'Yes you do. They've seen me, they called you, here you are about to examine me. It can't be denied.'

The exchanges continued until Zlatan locked the door and ripped off the disposable suit.

"Check whatever you want. But first, let me tell you what you'll find. My temperature is lower than a fully infected person, my vision is normal, if you give me raw meat I'll puke up. When you do the scans, you'll be puzzled because it will show the infection is in a dormant state. Boss, watch my lips – I'm not Alpha or Beta, I'm in a kind of transition status when I should have been in phase two by now. Well?"

"Ok, ok. So, how have you managed to halt the transition?"

"I don't bloody know. That's why I'm here. Look, we both know that the lid is being kept on stuff in this place. The only person we trusted from the top brass was that French guy who left, Deluge or something...I can't,"

"Delacroix. I tried to keep in touch with him but he didn't answer my emails. I don't know how to contact him now. Anyway, I'd get fired if they found out."

"For Christ's sake, what about your kids? Don't you want them to be safe? Whatever has blocked my transition is the only hope I have, and it may be the only hope for your children. We can't let this fall into the hands of those upstairs."

"Mmm, I seem to remember Delacroix's father was the big wheel in deflecting the asteroid. He shouldn't be too difficult to trace. We can make enquiries in France."

"Now you're making sense. So, examine me first – you need to know there is a chance for you and your family."

"You're right. Get on the scanner table while I set up the controls."

# Chapter 52

Zlatan was sleeping rough again. It was the safest option while he waited for contact from his boss. Several days passed and he was beginning to harbour thoughts that the perimeter guards may have reported his arrival at the checkpoint. His boss may be now under suspicion. Another week and he was beginning to run out of bees. He knew that this particular genus of killer bees were from African origin, he'd studied them as a boy. He was also aware of why they were called 'killers'. Their venom wasn't drastically different from other varieties, but they were extremely aggressive, and had been known to pursue threats to their hive for more than quarter of a mile. It was the sheer number of stings within a very short time which terminated the target. He wasn't an experienced bee 'shaman' like Olla, and capturing them himself wasn't an option.

He was resigned to returning to speak with Suma when his boss finally appeared in the homeless enclave.

"Sorry for the wait, but I've had to be very careful about how I tried to contact the asteroid man. I've eventually managed to get a message to him, via a guy who used to work for him at the company he used to run. It has a different name now. Pan American something or other. Anyway, this Russian gave me his number after a hell of a lot of questions. He finally relented when I said it was actually the guy's son I wanted to contact. I spoke to the father and he seemed very interested in what we found during your examination. He has since contacted his son and this Eugene character wants to meet with you. I said it was me who conducted the examination, but he wasn't put off. He insisted he needs to examine you himself. He is presently in Japan. He was happy to transfer funds for you to fly there so he can check your condition for himself. So, we have to get valid travel documents. I know someone who can do this, but we'll have to hurry, the two guards ask me every day what has happened to you. I've told them you are still in quarantine until we can be absolutely sure you aren't a risk. I swore them to keep schtum, but we can't rely on them indefinitely. I'll tell them you've been transferred to another research unit."

"Ok, so when do I see the document man?"

"Now, that's why I'm here. I had to clear the funds first. Let's go."

*

All the previous background work Eugene had invested in Sophie's treatment for schizophrenia was bearing fruit in the virus project. The flexibility of stem cell orientation and the established snip and stitch technique enabled him to declare that his part of the ultimate attack on the virus was almost ready.

He hadn't yet mentioned the information his father had passed on about Zlatan, and that wouldn't change until an intense examination of the subject had been completed. He did offer to join in with Brandon's more esoteric task of implanting and maintaining chaos to preoccupy the virus on a second front. The extra pair of hands was welcomed, as fatigue was beginning to emerge, in part because of a string of negative results. They needed a boost of some kind.

Eugene took advantage of his own workload easing to speak again with his father. The news wasn't good. As if the world needed more self-inflicted harm, Julien's description outlined the mushroom effect of a new cult.

It was springing into existence across every social group in Europe, and France provided fertile ground. The basic premise, in the face of exponential spread of the virus, was to re-connect with God. No matter which god, it was extoled as being part of some great tapestry. Interference with the ordained path of the almighty was sacrilegious, abhorrent, naïve, futile, cowardly, and dozens of other descriptive gospelesque terms. There was no other explanation – it was simply meant to be. The potential of this doctrine to gain such a stranglehold was not foreseen, or if it had been, it was merely considered as nothing more than the looney rabble elements clutching at any hint of their own personal salvation. It was only when the link to suicide bombers was made, that suspicion fell on orchestration by Alphas. Killing oneself by explosive force in densely populated areas, was an effective and indiscriminate way to spread infected flesh. The injured had to be attended, the uninjured would be contaminated, not as a collateral effect, but as part the main strategy. Momentum was achieved firstly by indoctrination, becoming a disciple of the omnipotent one, to be rewarded in heaven. A consequence of which was an extremely productive ratio of suicides to created deviants. Julien explained that the family were seriously at risk every minute of every day just seeking enough food to survive. They had virtually become prisoners in their own home. Eugene sensed some regret that they hadn't stayed in Guiana.

*

Zlatan was nervous. The security staff at Perth air terminal seemed to be hunting in packs. He recalled his parting conversation with his boss.

"I didn't want to believe it, Geoffrey Nelson. When you told me you were known only as Zlatan after your escape from the exclusion zone. But since your miracle 'cure' I've thought more about how you were always droning on about various conspiracy theories. I also started checking up on certain events whenever I had the chance to access files. The sheer number of alterations, designated as errors which appear in personnel records isn't explained by the workload everyone is under. Some just don't make sense. According to these records you are officially dead. This led me to look at scan results. They weren't where they should be, but I asked a colleague if she could undelete certain files, after I knew she was clean. At first she refused, but I told her I knew for certain that some _dead_ people according to the files, were still walking around. Guess what she found? The entire supervisory panel of the exclusion zone had positive initial scans. Subsequent scans placed them in strict echelons, related to different stages of infection symptoms. The ones at the very top are all what she called 'stabilised Alphas'. This situation is even worse than you suspected. You have to get to this Delacroix guy, because unless you do, I fear the battle is lost."

Zlatan had taken the precaution of subjecting himself to eight stings that morning, hopefully suppressing any signs of infection as he passed through to the gate for boarding. Still, he couldn't relax until they were at thirty thousand feet and the co-pilot began to ramble on about the anticipated weather over the entire journey.

*

The situation in Lyon had deteriorated further, so much that Julien had found a reputable company to build a panic room in the apartment. The specification included ten centimetre thick metal walls to give a degree of protection from home-made bombs. Massive freezer capacity for stored food cut down the number of visits to supermarkets. Once locked from the inside, the only way in was to cut through the walls. However, there were compromises, such as air conditioning vents. They were located externally, on the roof and could be tampered with or deprived of power, giving rise to suffocation risk. As a disincentive, the panic room concept could help, but Julien knew it was primarily based upon the logic that there might be easier targets for the perpetrators to fulfil their lust to harm the very rich.

He decided not to tell Eugene about this; he wanted his son to have no further distraction from his daunting task to neutralise the enemy from the world of the infinitely small.

*

Eugene didn't recognise Zlatan from his time in Australia.

"That's how it normally goes, the workers know the bosses, but the reverse doesn't often apply."

"Well, they say it's never too late, but we are on a shrinking window of opportunity to nail this pestilence. So, rather than reminiscing here at the airport, let me get you back to the lab and get on with the examination. Then I can introduce you to the rest of the team. While we drive back, do you want to tell me about how you came to be in a stable condition after suffering the full-blown infection?"

"I'd rather let you explain it to me if you don't mind. I think I know what it was that turned my condition around, but I have no idea how it works. I don't want to come across as some kind of crank, and I'm hoping you're going to prove that. If you can, then I'm sure it will give you a valid starting point to develop an effective treatment for the condition. I'm told that I'm not cured, and that the virus has just been halted in its tracks. If it checks out, I can certainly indicate to you what would extend my stay of execution."

"Now you do have me intrigued. Here we are, this is our lab, believe it or not. Looks like we both have to invest a bit of faith in each other."

*

Zlatan's boss was called to the inner sanctum. He'd anticipated this for some time. The invitation quickly descended into an interrogation. He'd rehearsed this in his mind over and over again.

"We understand that certain files have been undeleted from our highest security database. Do you know anything about that?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't even know such a facility existed. May I ask a question?"

"At this stage, you can."

"Why am I being cross-examined about something I couldn't possibly know about? I supervise nurses, that's all, and everything I need to access in order to carry out my function has to be absolutely open on my system. There is no delete facility, if there was we couldn't do our job."

"That seems quite logical. This inquiry pertains to one of your subordinates, not the nurses' manual of work practice. "

"Oh, I see, am I allowed to know which one?"

"That can come later if we can't find the hacker, by interviewing others who may have accessed the file of this particular nurse in your team. Thank you. If you don't hear from us there will be no further inquiry."

"I'm confused now. If there has been misconduct by any of my people, I should know about it. I would like to think that if you find the hacker and it is someone in my department, you would tell me."

"Naturally, thank you for being so candid."

He felt reasonably confident that the interview had bought a little time for him. He needed to confront the guards when he left work.

*

Eugene scratched his head repeatedly.

"Is it bad news," asked Zlatan.

"No, at least I don't think so. It does confirm most of what you said, but I can't seem to figure out why the infection has gone dormant. Well, I mean from the results I have in front of me."

"That's a relief thought isn't it? The verification that it is possible to halt the progress of the virus?"

"Indeed. But in my line of work we must be able to comprehend mechanisms, not just events."

"I see. So, does it help that I began to resist the advance of the sickness by allowing killer bees to sting me on a daily basis?"

"Killer bees? Bee venom? I don't really know, how did you find out that the stings would have this effect?"

He spun a bit of a fairy tale to protect Suma and his kin.

"You have good days and bad with this sickness. I was accidently stung a couple of times and the next day I felt better than I had for weeks. So, I repeated the process and I just kept on improving. First my eyesight and then the other symptoms."

"Have you told anyone else about this?"

"No, definitely not. I knew there was something odd going on in the exclusion zone. That's why I asked my boss to try to find you."

"Good. The next step is for you to meet with my colleagues and let them see the results I have. Then you tell them what you've just told me, ok?"

"Sure."

# Chapter 53

They could hear a ruckus outside the front door. Julien had installed cameras in various places inside and outside the apartment, including the new panic room. The one picking up activity in the hallway depicted a serious situation. He watched in horror as he saw his neighbour's wife being dragged feet-first into the elevator. Her husband's body was already lying on the tiled floor. He could see three deviants, one was stuffing all manner of foodstuffs into a large green sack. Another was busy breaking down the door of a second neighbour, and the third was now about to press the descend button in the elevator. Julien motioned for everyone to get into the panic room. He'd deliberately left the kitchen refrigerator full of raw meat in case something like this happened.

Sophie tugged her father's sleeve.

"What about Reuben? He's at the hardware store."

"Shit! I'd forgotten about that. Call his mobile and warn him not to come back until you can give him the all clear."

She made Reuben aware of the situation but he said he couldn't just wait for her next call.

"I'm coming back. These creatures are very cunning, and I'm not sure your dad's panic room will prevent them from getting in if they really want to. I can't take that chance, I'm on my way."

"No, Reuben, you have to... oh no, he wouldn't listen, Dad."

"That's all we need. What the hell does he think he's going to do against three of them? Appeal to their Beta side? The three of you have to get into the panic room now, so just do it. When I see Reuben come into the hallway on the camera, I'll go out there with my pistol. If we stay calm they may be gone before he gets back."

Sophie, Elise, and Geraldine entered and locked the panic room door from the inside. They then acknowledged Julien's instruction not to open it again unless he said so.

The situation became more confusing when the deviant who'd used the elevator didn't return. Julien then figured that the other neighbours on his floor must have been out, because the second deviant came out of the apartment with a green bag full of food, but no victims. This deviant seemed to be in charge, and he shouted instructions to the one next to him to break down Julien's door while he took both green bags to the elevator. Julien braced himself. It seemed to take an eternity for the reinforced door to concede. As soon as he could get a clear view, several rounds were fired and the deviant dropped to the floor. The hits to the body hadn't killed him and he began to struggle to his feet. The elevator doors opened just as Julien raised the pistol once again, and shouted, "Stay back, don't come any closer."

Reuben calmly walked out of the elevator and over to the stricken deviant. He pulled the cord. The chainsaw roared into gear and Reuben hacked off the deviant's head.

"There are two more somewhere," said Julien.

"Four more, actually. They are on the ground floor."

"Do you think they'll come back up?"

"Not unless they grow new heads. They just came at me one at a time. They didn't seem to stop and think about their numerical advantage. There would have been an almighty mess if they'd charged at me together. They behaved like gladiators rather than wild animals. It was almost as if there was some kind of seniority to honour or respect. Strange."

Julien simply couldn't believe the casual manner in which his normally laid back son-in-law had disposed of these terrifying deviants. He gave the signal to open the panic room door and Sophie rushed out, throwing her arms around her husband, simultaneously chiding him for being so stupid.

His sardonic reply was priceless. "I just decided to forget the drill I was going to buy and took the best tool for the most urgent job. I'll get the drill this afternoon, stop fussing, it's only a short walk."

*

The obligatory report of the incident to the police was made by Julien, even though he knew it would do nothing but gather computer archive dust. After giving such a meaningless statement he felt the need to relieve some of the pent-up stress, and it provoked him to call his son.

"Hi Eugene. We've had a bit of an incident here but I'm not calling you to cause further alarm. I just thought it might interest you to think about a specific part of what happened."

After going through every detail, he got to the pertinent point.

"Young Reuben is so cool and I had to let you know about his observations. If it had been anyone else they probably wouldn't have noticed this, and I include myself in saying this. He ripped the heads off the four deviants on the ground floor, as I said, but then he quietly mentioned that they almost formed a queue to tackle him when he arrived in their midst with a chainsaw. His explanation was that there seemed to be some kind of unspoken hierarchical understanding between them. He had the composure to lop off their heads as they each stepped forward. Now, before that, when I watched three of them on our floor, trashing my neighbour's apartment, they were all involved in separate tasks, yet one was barking out orders to the others. I thought that such behavioural observations might interest you, since you are looking at the schizophrenic nature of Alphas and Betas. I thought about this, because the one I shot was taking instructions from the one who disappeared into the elevator with two green bags full of food. Reuben said there were four on the ground floor, so I assume this leader was one of them. Unfortunately, we can't say if he ordered the others to attack Reuben one at a time."

"That really is weird, Dad. If Reuben's take on this is accurate, then it has to be significant. Thanks for the tip. I'm just about to meet with my co-workers and I'll bring this up. I'll call you back. But are you sure you don't want me to come back? You've had a serious warning."

"Maybe, but what could you do about it? You can do something where you are. I think the panic room will hold firm and anyway we've now got Chainsaw Charlie, he'll be in there with us if there's a repeat."

*

Brandon and the two Japanese researchers were open-mouthed when they listened to Zlatan's story backed up by Eugene's scan results. One of the Japanese held up his hand to ask a question.

"Do you have name of variety of bees which give this result?"

Zlatan hesitated. "Not exactly, but if you can get a book with pictures of bees and their description we can compare it with a dead one I kept. You must understand that I was in a hell of a hurry to get out of Australia."

Brandon queried the assertion that the bee venom per se should be attributed the title of 'wonder cure'.

"Once we know which variety we're talking about, we need to analyse it to isolate each organic compound. Some will be completely useless but others will surely have the potential we're looking for. It will be a lot of work because there will be a hell of a lot of different ingredients. This is urgent; it's the best break we've had. Anyway, when did you last take stings?"

"Not long ago. I think I know what you're going to say. The infection will gather momentum again unless I get more bees. Then I'm a risk to you guys."

"Exactly," exclaimed Brandon, "so it's even more urgent than I thought it was, to identify the strain of bees we need. Let's get googling right now."

All four of them began with the search engine and it didn't take long for Zlatan to match the dead bee with a picture and description of an African strain. Brandon then immediately looked in the sub-menus for the venom composition.

The general information fell under the name of Apitoxin, noted as a bitter, colourless liquid. The active portion was listed as a mixture of proteins, causing local inflammation, as well as acting as an anti-coagulant. Further breakdown substances revealed certain peptides, one of interest being Mellitin. However, another stand out individual protein he spotted was Apamine, a mild neurotoxin. His mind was engaged with the relative properties of these two constituents, then he finally found what he was looking for. Phospholipase A2, a highly destructive compound, particularly effective in degrading cellular membranes.

"Gentlemen, I believe we have our Trojan Horse, and it happens to be ready made. It's fantastic news that there is a natural source in the bee venom, but we can also synthesise this stuff from simpler molecules. So, Eugene, your infiltrator is ready. We need a bit of luck with my chaos distraction technique, and now we have the knockout blow with the Phospholipase A2."

Zlatan interrupted. "But isn't the bee venom only keeping my infection in check?"

"Yes," said, Eugene, "it isn't in itself a cure."

"Indeed," quipped Brandon, "but if Eugene's stuff kicks off the war, your Phospholipase A2 temporarily immobilises the virus so it can't mutate. Then I have to deliver a mortal wound to the damned scourge while it is inactive. We are within touching distance. But there remains a challenge – as you are the only infected patient we have, are you brave enough to allow the virus to recover and then allow us to nuke it?"

"Well, I... I mean...shit, I thought I would only need an injection or something like that. What you seem to be talking about is more like a major operation."

"Correct," said Brandon. "And one you may not survive. But let's face it, if you don't have an inexhaustible supply of bees, you're dead anyway. Even then, bees or no bees, the virus will adapt to it. I'd give you a few months at most."

Zlatan slumped into a chair. "When you put it like that I suppose it's a no-brainer."

# Chapter 54

When the euphoria had died down, Eugene approached Brandon while he was on his own.

"My father's apartment was attacked by deviants. None of my family members have been hurt, but the people next door to them weren't so lucky. My sister's husband took down four of them and finished off a wounded one with a chainsaw. Dad said this young man, Reuben, was told by phone about the attack, and he had the presence of mind to buy the chainsaw instead of a drill he was seeking. Anyway, while he was dismembering these deviants, he was amazed that they just came at him one at a time even though they saw the previous assailant cut down right in front of them. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this. I saw first-hand in Australia how these infected people operated before and after they transitioned to phase two. They always acted as a group, especially when threatened. This account makes me think that there may be an intermediate stage. We already know that there is a third phase, one of sophistication, hiding in plain sight. Any comment?"

"I can't really process this at the moment, my head says get on with finalising our three-part offensive. Could they have been siblings?"

"I'd never thought about that. Ok, let's get back to work."

Six Weeks Later

Zlatan had reverted to phase one deviancy. Unfortunately, Brandon wasn't completely ready with his distraction technique. One part, the creation of temporary metabolic chaos had been successful. However, they had been handicapped by not being able to test out part two on the actual virus, because of mutation fears. They'd had to use designer stem cells to simulate the process. Creating 'benign' physical deformation was proving a step too far. One of the Japanese researchers came up with an alternative completely out of the blue.

"Why can we not cause a sporadic interrupt protocol for specific stimuli which demand instant cerebral response? We already have drugs which perform such functions for short periods. We only expected the distraction project to offer this deception for a similar amount of time. So, instead of deception – nothing!"

Brandon looked pensive, then a switch flicked.

"Yes, yes, Eugene, think back to Chainsaw Charlie for a moment. If there is an intermediate stage, as you suggested, that would be the time to strike, for example, a stable orderly period before transition from phase one to two."

"Right, and our guinea pig is phase one. There were tests in Australia which gave a few days warning of the actual jump from phase one to two. That's when we need to plant our seeds."

"So, can you alert us at the start of this period?"

"I'm pretty sure I can."

"In that case, I think we're finally ready to roll."

Zlatan timidly asked how much science backed up this decision.

Brandon kept a straight face when he jokingly said, "We have one shot at this. If we fail you will die in a few weeks. But so will the rest of us within a couple of years. If the science you're talking about is mathematics, we're entitled to say it's a straight fifty-fifty. But hey, it has to be better than doing nothing."

Cometh the Hour

Zlatan was connected to just about every piece of monitoring equipment in the building. This was by no means comparable with a hospital quarantine unit in terms of sanitation or front line medical expertise. Also, the patient was not given anaesthetic, they needed him to be able to communicate with them at all times. The infusions could begin, the first precisely seven minutes before the second. They had estimated a window of between three and five minutes for Eugene's test to indicate signs of any intermediate transition symptoms after injection one. This left them a minimum of two minutes and a maximum of four minutes for the second infusion and subsequent monitoring of cerebral response lag, before considering the third. Brandon asked Eugene to start the process.

The infiltration serum went smoothly, Zlatan was calm, the readouts were good and the clock ticked down to infusion number two. The metabolic chaos delivery produced a very sharp reaction in the readouts, although the patient felt no different. Two and a half minutes before the Trojan Horse infusion was about to be added to the mix, Zlatan noticed an abrupt change in his visionary capability, followed by a drift to unconsciousness. The group debated this and Brandon suggested they should delay the third infusion until the readouts began to normalise. They didn't have to. Zlatan opened his eyes, and when asked about the blackout he had no recollection of such an event, thinking he had remained conscious the whole time.

Even so, the third infusion was delivered with some unease. The previously stabilising readouts began to show surges in all directions. Zlatan became delirious, moaning and talking nonsense, but remaining conscious. This wild fluctuation continued for the best part of an hour, inflicting a degree of pessimism into the equation. Then, quite suddenly the patient's blood pressure dropped dramatically, as did his pulse rate. The onlookers now became gravely concerned. Zlatan's speech gradually lost its slurring tendency and he was more lucid.

"Something is going on inside me. I'm seeing pictures from earlier this morning, yesterday, and years ago. They come and go. There are hundreds of them. They are there whether I close my eyes or keep them open. What is happening?"

Brandon told him that they couldn't know exactly what was going on, but at least they knew his body was reacting to the infusions.

"The virus will also be engaged in the struggle. I would expect this to continue for quite some time, maybe even overnight. Are you in any pain?"

"Not really, I just feel as if I don't know who I am. The pictures are confusing because some have me in them and others are familiar but I don't know why. I feel hot at the moment, very hot. I want to sleep but the pictures won't stop."

Eugene noted that his blood pressure had increased slightly and his pulse was now normal. Zlatan stopped speaking in mid-sentence and closed his eyes again. The hiatus in communication with him gave an opportunity for the others to discuss and digest all of the data which had been collected so far. It could be several hours before reliable trends could be extracted or there could be a sudden change at any time. It was going to be a long night.

*

Zlatan's boss had a conundrum. He'd checked with the guards and they swore blind that they had never talked about the return from the dead of the former nurse, and had agreed to pretend his reappearance had never happened.

"Have you been questioned about it?"

They said they had expected to be asked about it, but it hadn't come up, either by rumour or contact from the hierarchy. He was leaning toward believing them when he was asked to attend a second interrogation. He feared that he'd erred somewhere along the line, but retained his casual persona when he entered the room.

"We wanted to bring you up to date with our findings regarding the undeleted files we spoke about last time."

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten about that."

"Well, we are now satisfied that it was a routine housekeeping exercise which brought up these files and posed the question as to whether they should be permanently deleted or left in abeyance until the next clean-up point. Most of them have been permanently deleted, but on balance we felt you should know that one of these files related to Geoffrey Nelson, a nurse who reports to you, his file has now been removed from this list and transferred to an investigative section."

"I see. What kind of investigation? Is that why I'm here?"

"Not to be part of the investigation, only to verify certain information. Some of what was in the file has become subject to dispute."

"Right. Well, he was a reliable employee. He had some strange views on life in general, but he never let it affect his work."

"You speak of him respectfully, in the past tense."

"Yes, of course, he was reported as deceased not long after he became infected. Wasn't that on this file you keep talking about?"

"Unfortunately not. You see, some alterations appear to have been made when this clean-up took place. His file information ends with the declaration that he was infected. You've been very helpful, and it just shows that every once in a while human memory can be more reliable than strings of computer code. We also vaguely remembered he was one of many of our staff who'd succumbed to the virus. We can now correct the file, registering his death, and close the investigation. It will become extremely important in the future to ensure our records of this plague are as accurate as possible."

He left the inner sanctum and felt relieved that he'd stayed on script, but he knew that they knew for certain that Geoffrey Nelson didn't actually die inside the exclusion zone.

# Chapter 55

Darwinian Roulette

It had been a long and sometimes depressing vigil. Global events took on the temporary cloak of mere wallpaper, unfolding but blotted out by sheer focus and determination. Zlatan had been hooked up to technical survival kit for two and a half weeks. He'd also had to cope with intravenous feeding and bedpans. He was weary beyond comprehension.

Eugene uttered only two words.

"You won."

"What?"

"You're clean. The virus has been purged from your body. There have been quite a few wobbles, but in the end, the Phospholipase A2 made the difference. Once you recover from fatigue you'll improve quickly. We've decided you can return to oral sustenance. Sorry about the nil by mouth discomfort, but we had to rule out any interaction between the virus and contaminated foodstuffs. If you want a sleeping draft just let me know. You have a place in history now, the first human to beat this pestilence."

Zlatan let the emotions flow and began to convulse with joy. He was muttering something repeatedly. Eugene leaned closer.

"Ice cream, I'd like an ice cream. Lots of it and only then a sleeping pill."

The others were almost too tired to celebrate, but there was one more thing to address. It fell to Brandon to make the point.

"Listen guys. I think I know how you feel, but this is just the beginning. We can't let the cat out of the bag until we find the right people to work with in using this technique. If it was broadcast, then stabilised Alphas would ensure that the virus would be directly exposed to the cure, in a lab, not a discrete human body. We can't let that happen. Its adaptability would then become a threat, mutating to a new foe, and starting a new, more complex campaign. Let's enjoy the moment and think about what we do next. I'd like to suggest we know where we have to begin. Australia has to be neutralised before we tackle the wider world."

The two Japanese researchers were keen to stay with the project, but brought up the practical aspect of being paid, they had to earn a living. Eugene had an idea he wanted to share.

"This will, as Brandon said, reach a point where we have to trust a larger and larger circle of people. I agree that the original Australian spawning nest has to be eradicated first, but by whom? We aren't militarily capable of enforcing terms for treating one person but not another. Politicians scare the shit out of me when it comes to trust, but we simply can't administrate and treat on the scale required. It pains me to concede this. But, if we want to deceive the world at large about exactly what we're doing, at least for a while, politicians have this in their DNA – the four of us don't. We just have to find the right politicians. With respect to being paid, I can vouch for support from my father and myself, so forget about that for now. As the project grows, regular employment will follow. Brandon is absolutely correct, we can only treat a person once, and that brings up the question of secondary infection. Those cured must be kept away from any form of the virus, whether from plants, animals, or deviants. I would have thought it makes sense to do this in Australia as we go, because if the eradication programme is to be successful we have to limit it to phase one deviants in the beginning. We have more work to do with phases two and three. Progressively cleansing in an ever-expanding circle would afford us the opportunity to select such candidates simultaneous with eliminating and burning others. One further point I'd like to make, we as individuals and a group are pitifully naïve when it comes to achieving the organisational bridgehead we need. My father has both the financial and people connections to help us. He's been in this kind of situation many times."

The Japanese duo looked blankly at Brandon.

"I can go along with Eugene on this. I never really knew Julien Delacroix when I was with VB Aerospace, but he gained my trust when he persuaded me to speak to Eugene, and thus the means to bring this team together. We're scientists, someone else has to deal with the rest."

It was agreed that they would wait until Zlatan was on his feet and functioning normally before outlining the situation to Julien.

Five Days Later

Zlatan showed remarkable improvement and was fit enough to travel. Eugene called his father and was redirected to another number. Eventually someone answered.

"Sophie? What's going on? I've been on the line for over a minute."

"Eugene, thank goodness you called. We had no time to let you know we were getting out of Lyon. We flew to Corsica yesterday. It was the only flight available at short notice for all five of us."

"Just a minute, sis, I'm not following you. Corsica?"

"Yes, the French mainland is completely out of control. These deviants are everywhere. You don't have to watch it on TV, just looking out of the window we could see people being attacked every few minutes."

"Bloody hell, news of this kind of stuff hasn't reached Japan, or it could be deliberately suppressed. Is everyone ok?"

"Yes, but we aren't staying here too long. It's quiet, but it won't stay like that. We're going back to Guiana as soon as we can make the safest travel arrangements."

"Right. Is Dad there?"

"Yeah, I'll put him on."

He could hear lots of intermingled voices, then Julien's voice prevailed over the background noise.

"Hello, Eugene. I was beginning to think I'd never hear your voice again. Are you still working on your project in Japan?"

"In a way, but we're facing a dilemma. I can't say too much on the phone but I think we need your help."

"My help? I'm an old man now, Eugene, and I know nothing about microbiology. How can I help?"

"Through your contacts. We're at a crossroads. Listen, I told Sophie that we were a little isolated here in terms of world news, but it is quiet and pretty safe. Unless you've all made up your minds to head for Guiana right now, how about we meet up in Japan. We won't be here too long, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Think of it as a holiday. I promise it won't be a waste of your time. I'll hold while you ask the others. I'm sorry to be so vague but we don't have much time to spare."

Julien knew his son well enough to refrain from asking more questions, and guessed that there was something big to consider in Japan. He simply said he'd talk the others into a new vacation in the Orient and would call back with the flight times.

"Just meet us at the airport and we'll take it from there, ok?"

"No shit? I don't envy your task in herding the others into line. Thanks, Dad."

*

The reunion of the family at the airport was laced with joy and huge relief. Eugene took his father to one side and said they should drop the others off at the five star hotel before the two of them could proceed to the lab. When Zlatan's situation was explained to him, he challenged Eugene's sanity.

"You're joking aren't you? So, what's the real reason you asked us to fly halfway around the world?"

"This is as serious as it gets, Dad. I know you have to take a leap of faith here, but we don't have time to piss about. We either squander this breakthrough by trusting the wrong people or you help us to find the right people. That's it, yes or no, there's no way we'd make up such a preposterous tale. We don't have a choice as to whether we do this, only how we do it."

"You haven't said so, but you are leaning heavily on my conscience about bringing this scourge here with the cometary pebbles aren't you? I've continually agonised over the advice I gave at the time. I truly thought we had no reason to be concerned about them, especially as we'd just averted Armageddon. Ok, I get it, but do you seriously think I can bring people we can trust to Australia and weed out these 'stable Alphas' without revealing our motive?"

"Like I said, unless you have a better idea."

"I need to digest all this. I'm going to have a few beers at the hotel tonight. But first, can I see this man you've 'disinfected'?"

Julien was introduced to Zlatan.

"Tell me more about your time before you were infected. How you began to suspect the hierarchy, and the names of any contacts inside the exclusion zone you can trust."

Zlatan's account was reassuring in its utter simplicity and gratitude that he was actually able to be here and recount it.

"It's a real honour to meet with someone like you, sir, but I can only give you names of people I **don't** trust in Australia. It doesn't work the other way. When you've had this 'inhabitation' of your body, and are helpless to resist doing what it urges you to do, there seems to be no point in living. Yet you don't even get near to ending your life. Something keeps you going. It would be a real shame if your work in preventing the asteroid from wiping out our species, was to become only a prelude to caving in to some bloody pest which can't actually survive without us, or other Earth inhabitants. It doesn't belong here. I don't know if any of this makes sense, but when these guys who cleansed me are ready to go back there, I'm in it with them – all the way. They've risked everything for me, I owe them bigtime. You need to see what's going on down there for yourself, sir."

# Chapter 56

As Julien made his way back to the hotel in a taxi, a wistful smile rippled over his face. He knew that it was going to be a hell of a problem to explain his decision without really telling the full story. He called the family from reception and asked them to meet him in the cocktail lounge. There could have been quite a rumpus if he dropped this on them in their suite, but decorum would be his ally in a public place.

They stared at him, waiting for him to say something which would explain his insistence that they should all follow him to the down elevator.

"Please, just do as I ask, there is something to celebrate and something which has to be done."

They gathered around an oval table in the cocktail bar and Julien ordered soft drinks for everyone. He announced the good news, that Eugene and his colleagues were the first to cure a man infected by the virus. He let this sink in for a few seconds and then delivered the not-so-good news. Their celebrations turned to utter astonishment. Sophie broke the deafening silence.

"You seriously want us to go to that hell-hole? If I remember correctly, Eugene had to fight tooth and nail to get out of Australia. It's where the plague started. I'm not going."

Elise and Geraldine simply nodded in agreement, and Reuben said nothing. Sophie addressed her father again.

"Well, come on, Dad. You talked us into ditching Guiana to come here – because Eugene said it was safe. There's something you aren't telling us."

"You misunderstood. My apologies, I wouldn't expect any of you to go with me, but I can't turn my back on my son when he has to continue his work on developing a vaccine for sufferers of this virus. Sooner or later it will reach everywhere on Earth, there will be no hiding place. His work is at an advanced but critical stage, and you're right, Sophie, it all started in Australia, where it has now mutated. So, Eugene has to tackle it right where it is, right now. He needs help in altering the current strategy of merely trying to contain it."

Elise spoke calmly.

"So, you want us to stay here while you and Eugene risk your lives down there?"

"Well, yes. Would any of you truly want me to decline Eugene's plea for help. Listen, he doesn't need me to get involved with his actual lab work. He wants my experience in putting together an organisation which can properly administrate the distribution of any promising vaccine he develops. It isn't an ongoing situation for me, as soon as the structure is in place, I become redundant. I'll return here as soon as I can. This is the safest place for the rest of you at present, so please just try to keep a low profile and learn something about the Japanese culture. I promise to keep in touch regularly. Look, I have no choice; I have to go."

There was no further resistance.

Australia - Three Months Later

With the help of Zlatan's boss, and Julien's contacts around the world, a meticulous plan had been implemented. A comprehensive list of suspected stable Alphas in the hierarchy had been under continual observation by trained operatives under the nominal command of Alexei Bondarenko, who'd been given leave by his new employer. They were mainly Russian Special Surveillance Units. A separate group of trusted scientists had been ensconced in Sydney, with the agreement of a failing Australian government, once they had been persuaded that they'd been continually fed false information from the exclusion zone hierarchy. Parading Eugene's miracle man, Zlatan, was the clincher.

The planned coup to take over the exclusion zone had to be triggered and executed with the precision of an atomic clock. Above all, they wanted the top man alive. They needed to interrogate him in the presence of Eugene's group. It had been decided to threaten this man by making him the first stable Alpha to be subjected to their cure. But not before he'd witnessed phase one and two deviants being purged of the virus. Brandon and Eugene insisted that this should be the order of things. There was resistance to the proposal, the Australian government simply wanted all deviants eliminated unless there could be a guarantee of no further mutation. Brandon reminded them that the dimension of time ruled out such guarantees, repeating the folly of mass treatment at this juncture. There had to be absolute proof of the cure's effectiveness with _individual_ cases of all three deviant phases before any conventional treatment wards could be set up. He also made the point that isolating the head of the snake had psychological leverage. Confrontation with cured subordinates during interrogation, and the pledge that he was next, might just elicit some valuable disclosure from him. Brandon then bizarrely placated the Australian government concern. He implied that regardless of how the individual cure attempts of all three phases of viral transition turned out, they were merely 'contained experiments'. He agreed that all other deviants currently within the exclusion zone should be terminated and burned under the strictest supervision.

"We have to use every small advantage we can muster. There is no room for sympathy here. The benefit, if there ever was one, of the exclusion zone is the security aspect. It has to stay like that so that we can spread the cure outwards in a highly controlled way, and crucially extending the security as we go. Eventually, thousands may die, but thousands will survive if we accept this ring-fencing approach. If we can produce a successful model, it can be applied elsewhere, but we also have to try to get as much information as we can from the top man before he is subjected to our cure. If he is truly cured, he can become our biggest asset. I hope you're beginning to comprehend what we're dealing with here."

After fielding a few more 'what if' questions, Eugene and Brandon were given consensual go-ahead for the plan. And, with help in the form of detailed exclusion zone drawings from Zlatan's boss, the special operations units hatched the actual coup.

One of the engineering employees in the complex was instructed by Zlatan's ex-boss to cause a fault in the inner sanctum air conditioning system during his nightshift. It would be reported the next morning, rendering scheduled meetings difficult, due to the utterly oppressive heat. The ploy was extremely successful, all of the inner sanctum files were stored in that suite, and it could never be left empty during dayshift hours. The top stable deviant personally demanded that the air conditioning unit had to be repaired without delay, while he struggled to keep the meeting agenda on course. The special ops unit delegated only two men, dressed in the uniforms of the repair company. They fitted gas canisters to the inlet supply and then corrected the cooling hardware 'fault'. The system was now reported as fully operational and the special ops men left. It only took a few minutes for the asphyxiation gas to render the entire chamber attendees unconscious. The remaining personnel in the special ops unit were fitted with high grade gas-proof suits and were lowered by helicopter on to the glass roof. They'd already been familiarised with the faces of the inner sanctum members and swiftly pulled the top man to one side. He was administered a precautionary heavy sedative before the others were injected with nerve gas.

The senior special ops man called Zlatan's boss and gave the signal that the chamber was secure, and the asphyxiation gas had been turned off. He, in turn scrambled all the employees he knew he could trust; certain ones were required in the ante-chamber while the remaining gas dispersed, and then to enter, securing the inner sanctum files. Others were detailed to get to the cache of automatic rifles which had been planted overnight. Anyone who resisted being assembled in the main courtyard were to be shot on refusal, no questions asked. Eugene and his team arrived to pick up their top man and take him to the state-of-the-art laboratory section.

Stage one was over, a bridgehead had been established. Now the security aspect had to be addressed. Once again ruthless adherence to plan was paramount. The supervised burning of the bodies from the inner sanctum conveyed this better than any words. Everyone was forced to attend.

A state of news blackout was already in place, courtesy of the simultaneous elimination of all inner sanctum members but one. The news output had probably been employed as an indoctrination facility, but now it had to become a containment operation.

Eugene and Brandon were immediately tasked with selecting and curing a phase one and a phase two individual prior to re-awakening the head of the snake. They needed no reminding that time was still of the essence. They didn't have the luxury of asking for volunteers, they took the first one they could verify in each category.

The equipment in this lab was vastly superior to that which they'd had to make do with in Japan, and it was estimated that they would have a prediction in forty-eight hours. The deviants responsible for setting this equipment up had clearly been very inventive. This was quite a relief, when compared to Zlatan's painfully long all-clear vigil. With this array of monitoring they would know before the forty-eight hour predictive data came to hand, if there was a serious problem which would suggest aborting and finding another more suitable specimen.

# Chapter 57

World War Three

Pre-existing pockets of conflict would not be helpful in expanding outward with the programme. Protestant and Catholic. Sunni and Shia. Anarchist and Establishment. Cult and Sectarian. Capitalist and Communist. Somehow, the world had to be confronted with the need to shelve these divisive habits and focus on Homo Sapiens and Homo Diversitus. Making it known there was a cure would derail the chances of the former prevailing beyond the antipodes. A classic example of being dishonest to serve the greater good.

The phase one deviant had been cured. The phase two specimen was predicted to be cured. A debate ensued as to whether it was prudent to take this as reliable and get on with the head of the snake. It was a tough call, simply because like Zlatan, the phase one specimen couldn't enlighten them about deviant plans, she could only repeat that she had been driven to rely upon instinct rather than evaluation, and yet had no desire to commit suicide.

An old axiom which suggested all wars are won and lost before they are fought weighed heavily on the minds of the strategists whom Julien Delacroix had managed to persuade to join the cause. It was therefore considered good fortune that Australia was a 'discrete continent' in a way. One predominant language, one recognised government, one set of laws and immigration control force. This might just assist in bringing in new edicts such as submission to medical tests before being cleared to travel outside the shoreline. People were asked to support such draconian action if they truly wanted to help in defeating the virus. The underlying strategy was to flush out resistance to checks, and detain possible deviants for enforced tests. The practical difficulty was always going to be vetting the sheer number of officials responsible for actually conducting those checks. If they were to stand any chance of progress they would have to consider dismantling social media by bulldozing internet capability into at least temporary ruin. The monumental knock-on effects of such decisions began to undermine the morale of the strategists. Even if they could prosecute the foundations for such lockdown, it would take years or decades to extend cleansing tentacles into a world which could already be lost to Homo Diversitus.

Meeting after meeting failed to shape a viable alternative. There appeared to be no alternative.

*

The selected phase two specimen had begun to react positively, and then the prediction indicated failure. Another would be selected, and the original specimen would be terminated then burned. Just as well that Brandon had bullied Eugene into starting the treatment for the top deviant already. In fact the prediction took considerably less time than the previous recipients of the treatment. He would be clean within days according to the data.

*

Julien had been constantly in touch with the family and now he announced he was on his way back. He spoke first to Elise.

"I'm sorry this has taken longer than anticipated but the stakes are so high for all of us, and I couldn't seem to walk away from Eugene when he's working so hard on behalf of everyone. I'm leaving here tonight, and I'm really looking forward to seeing you all."

"I've been so worried about both of you. When will Eugene be coming back?"

"I don't think we should fool ourselves, Elise. Our son is not going to take a step back into normal life for a long time. All I can say is that this scourge is a very complex organism which may be around in some form long after you and I are gone. We have to be proud of Eugene and try to visit him whenever that is possible. The civilised world is already crumbling, but if we think things can't get any worse, we need to really open our eyes. I can explain more when I get back. Bye for now."

*

Despite the chronic fatigue suffered by the head of the snake, he displayed no signs of being uncooperative. They had their suspicions that this was part of his defence mechanism. They would only be able to get a true feel for the extent of his re-conversion by specific, targeted questions. Eugene and Brandon had already devised a list of probing queries, buttered with tactical sympathy. In particular, they had anticipated resistance from him regarding an enforced cure, but he had been surprisingly compliant.

The Interview

Eugene began with identity confirmation.

"I recognise you from the short time I worked here, and I believe your name is Sir Leonard Schuster, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"According to our data, you are now free of the infection. We'd like you to tell us if you feel that this is the case, and if so, answer some questions about the infection itself."

"I can confirm that I now feel I have returned to my pre-infection status, and I would be more than happy to share my experience of being under the influence of the infection with you."

This was way too easy.

"Do you recall detailed actions which you took, as a deviant, which have assisted the spread of the virus?"

"Of course. I also recall what horrors I faced before I became infected."

"We have to understand why, as leader of this research unit, which was supposed to eradicate the virus, you became the architect of the exact opposite – proliferation of it. This may be a key factor in helping us to curb or cleanse the world of its presence."

"Am I limited to answering questions, or is it permissible for me to attempt to explain why you may be tackling this situation from only one vantage point?"

"That's an interesting prospect. Please, go ahead."

This was a departure from the agreed format, and Brandon shook his head. Nevertheless, Eugene encouraged the subject to continue.

"I'm sure that at some point you will ask about purpose, agenda, strategy, and the like. However, it's much simpler than that. When you worked here, you knew that there were discrete phases of behavioural trends after infection. In fact you have such a person standing here now. Geoffrey Nelson was a nurse. We realised that he'd escaped and registered him as deceased. He had been classified as unlikely to transition to stable phase three status. I will come back to this later.

"The overriding force involved with this virus, like any other, is Darwinian in nature. The survival of the fittest, no emotion, pity, or morality. Survival itself is driven by instinct. Now, in phase one, there is little else at play other than instinct, to the point that carnivores do not shrink from cannibalism. Mr Nelson can confirm that. As phase two approaches, we see a characteristic unfamiliar to us when studying viral progression. Just as in adolescent humans, the onset of puberty alters behaviour. The pertinence here is the rate at which this occurs in adult hosts. This hormonally driven instinct rapidly transcends prior needs. The move to a different diet, cooked protein, vegetables – the prelude to becoming omnivorous again. We also realised that not many subjects were capable of making the final transition to phase three. As I am one such example, or rather I was such a candidate, I began to realise that we were part of a fast-forwarded survival war. I am unable to explain exactly why I could not discuss this with human counterparts, other than to say my instinct was not to trust them. I was elected to head up this eradication of a simple virus, and then I became part of the problem. Before infection I referred to the victims, none of whom were voluntarily stricken, as deviants. Having then experienced the situation from the opposite perspective, I prefer to see them as hybrids. They are still part human even if that is very difficult to grasp when dealing with only the first two phases of infection.

"I ask you now to consider very carefully what you intend to do next. The explanation I have been given regarding my 'cure' creates a dilemma. You are entering a war in which you cannot win with such an ingenious yet cumbersome technique. Perhaps natural selection can help. You can verify what I'm about to say from our files. We had to accept from the emergence of the first phase three individuals, that we, the perceived elite, faced elimination by phase one and two specimens as well as humans. Survival versus morality again. Tell me, are all humans perfect? All over the planet, since the beginning of time, they have butchered one another with false justification. It is happening as we speak. We also humanely kill other species and eat them, and yet it somehow hypocritically assuages our guilt. Have most humans accepted culls of lower order species for the greater good? We, those of us who were top hybrids have countenanced the termination of infected specimens with no chance of reaching phase three. No doubt you will cry foul. Once again, consider human evolution. Out of Africa became the origin of our history, and yet today it is still the engine room of slavery. All I am trying to convey is reality. I believe, as a 'returned human' that you face one of two outcomes. A war between unrestricted hybrids and humans will eventually see the end of pure Homo Sapiens, and the emergence of pure Homo Diversitus. Hybrids will have served their purpose. The alternative is to oversee a shared responsibility for the future of both. It does imply that only phase three specimens are allowed to survive until a transition mechanism can be administered to those who do not yet qualify. You killed my colleagues, some of whom had developed such a treatment, and we were already administering it to phase one and two hybrids. You need to persuade me to give you access to that treatment, and remember, I'm speaking to you as a human, but on behalf of hybrids, to whom being such a mongrel was not a choice."

They looked at one another. Brandon provided the unanswered question.

"What do you mean by pure Homo Diversitus?"

"Simply that we have not yet seen the results of procreation between phase three hybrid couples. I repeat, you have to consider the hurdle of preventing such multiplication between phase one and phase two couples. That's why we embarked upon the treatment to convert them. No doubt you will ask about future procreation between Homo Sapiens and Homo Diversitus. I'm afraid I have no answer."

Eugene asked about his understanding of 'being persuaded' to disclose this treatment. The response was unambiguous.

"A planet-wide pledge of equality. Nothing less."

# Chapter 58

A rapidly arranged meeting with the strategists revealed that the files referred to by Leonard Schuster were encoded and only he knew where the decoding resided. It was a simple deciphering algorithm embedded in his cerebral recesses.

Time had always been a factor in whether or not a solution would be forthcoming. It was accepted that the complex cure developed by Eugene and Brandon could take humans part of the way on their own, but Schuster's view that it would be overtaken by Darwinian force was very persuasive. The moral issues were legion, but again, natural selection would bypass all such deliberation. The remaining issue was trust. They had to take this decision to the world while there was still time. In capitulating to such an unknown outcome there was tangible discomfort. Nevertheless, Eugene and Brandon were united in its endorsement. Schuster unlocked the codes.

Two Years Later

Seeds of the Gods

The prospect of unwritten trust on the world stage was in itself divisive. Some long-forgotten philosopher once said, 'If all mankind was made equal today, by some mystical edict, inequality would not only survive, but rear its head in a new guise tomorrow'.

If nothing else had been achieved, a more concerted effort to care for the planet as a whole solidified from its former cameo role.

There were signs that Schuster's social stance had brought credibility to the programme, and the statistical evidence backed this up with hundreds of thousands of stable hybrids.

The Delacroix clan returned to Guiana. Sophie was pregnant. Julien was going to realise his dream of playing with his grandchildren. Eugene felt he was ready to consider a serious personal relationship of some kind, without prejudice, human or hybrid. Elise and Geraldine could get back to their horticultural passions.

Brandon Mitchell and his two Japanese colleagues accepted an offer to work in the Schuster Foundation, whose purpose was enshrined in development of new treatments for any hybrids for whom the original serum didn't work. These people were largely those whose original genetic makeup was impacted by evolution's tendency to miscopy, every once in a while.

Medical breakthrough was delivering admirably, judged by the arbiter of stability. Yet, despite the global accord on equality, and its enforcement by slow recovery of international law, prejudice lurked wherever it could find fertile ground. It had been a repetitive trait of Homo Sapiens since their emergence, and it still was. However, evolution itself was about to have an influence. The fact that hybrids could be stabilised, but retain the reinforcement of the virus-induced alterations to DNA, did not favour pure Homo Sapiens. In the face of inexorable climate change, or indeed resistance to future pandemics, they could prove to be the weaker sub-species.

Even though panic and conflict had receded significantly, it was certain to be a long haul to perceived harmony. Julien Delacroix was in such a reflective mood, regurgitating the thought that he, more than anyone, was responsible for bringing this wretched virus to the planet. It was therefore no surprise that he had one eye on the Arctic Circle. He was too old to do anything about it, but he hadn't forgotten that there were many undiscovered cometary pebbles in stasis under the permafrost.

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