

SEE THE STARS

One

I know not what the future holds, I know not what it brings, I only know what has passed and what tears that would bring. Now we must go forward with our heads held high, together in our belief in God and what we know is right.

This was the last entry in the journal of a soldier serving in the Solaran Commonwealth's Army before he went into battle with so many of his comrades. Yes, this was our Galaxy, where a terrible war was being waged between the Solaran Commonwealth and its allies, the Hellertron Empire, and a vicious, evil, despotic race, the Kayton Empire, intent on conquest and enslavement of the entire Galaxy. To this end, on the Keltar battle front on the Godforsaken planet of Ganeymon, the Solarans were facing the Kaytons and their Drone armies in deadly combat. The Kaytons were getting stronger by the day whereas the Solarans were getting weaker, being drained by the need to send reinforcements to stem the recent Hellertron defeats. How much longer could the thinning crest of the Solaran defence line hold out against another concentrated Kayton attack? They were about to find out as the alarms sounded all along the Solaran front lines.

The Unknown Soldier, who made the journal entry, and all his comrades advanced from their dugouts and into the front line trenches proper to prepare themselves for the coming onslaught.

A young Second Lieutenant, who was standing next to the Unknown Soldier, shouted to his platoon, "Open fire!" as wave after wave of Kaytons and their Drone armies came at them.

The Solarans held out... but for how much longer?

The Major in charge told the front line radio operator to call for air support.

"The Air Force is spread very thin," replied the radio operator. "Can we hold out without air support?"

Grabbing the radio receiver, the Major shouted, "I'm telling you, if you don't get me an air strike, and soon, we are going to collapse!"

There was no reply; just silence at the other end of the line.

As things deteriorated, the Major gave the order to prepare to retreat. At least that way some men would be saved, whereas if they stood firm they would all be killed or captured.

At that very moment the radio operator said, "Listen," as the unmistakable sound of Solaran fighter bombers could be heard in the distance.

On board the lead strike aircraft, the Squadron Leader radioed to his pilots, "We are approaching the front line, T.A.R.D.S on now."

Tactical All Round Defense System was a force field which enveloped the whole plane. It was a good system but as it was a huge drain on the power, it was only used when absolutely necessary. That time had now come as the anti-aircraft shells exploded harmlessly on the force field, lighting it up as they struck.

As they approached No Man's Land the squadron leader said to his pilots, "Make them count, these lads are desperate."

They swooped in low and fast on the unsuspecting Kaytons, dropping their delayed action cluster bombs which exploded with devastating effect, breaking up the attack in its tracks. The surviving Kaytons retreated back to their front lines as the squadron made its escape back to base to re-arm for the next expected mission, such was the pressure being exerted all along the front line.

The men in the Solaran trenches reacted with cheers of relief at having repelled the attack, the Major's Adjutant saying gleefully, "We did it, we held."

"This time, yes," the Major replied. "Next time we might not be so lucky. I don't know how much longer we can hold on."

The young officer standing next to the Unknown Soldier turned to him and said, "We did it; we held..." But then his expression turned to sadness as he realised the Unknown Soldier had taken a stray bullet and died at his side. After composing himself, he said, "I didn't even know your name, soldier, but I am going to find out now who you are and who your loved ones are." He ever so carefully and respectfully went through the soldier's pockets to try and give a name to this brave man who had sacrificed all in the name of freedom. But the soldier must have left his papers in his dugout because all he could find was a photograph of his girlfriend in his top left hand pocket, literally next to his heart. On the back of the photograph it read, Please, my love, keep me close to your heart. As you are to mine, always. To remind you of me throughout these hard times. And when the war is at an end and victory is ours, we will be reunited again, happy and free. My dearest love, Otterley.

The young officer thought, I won't let you be forgotten. I will find out who you are and when the war is over I will return your private belongings to your devoted girlfriend and tell her that I had the honour of serving by your side.

Two

Life on earth continued as normal, oblivious to what was going on around it. In England, in a city called Leeds, John was sitting in the bookies with his friend, Bob, who looked like the shepherd in the Specsaver advert who sheared his dog by mistake. He was the spitting image of that character. I was thinking to myself, look at all these people deceiving themselves they are going to win some money.

My mother once said to me when I was young, "You never see a poor bookie." What a way for a company to make a profit, by living on people's addictions.

My father was from Holland, but I never saw a bookies in Holland when I was a teenager. I think they must have had more sense. Mind you, I suppose it is no worse than selling cigarettes or alcohol.

Poor old Bob gambled all his working life. He lived a wretched existence. He had no cooker, fridge, microwave or television, had been on Pension Credit for the last two years and all he bought in that time was a new mattress and radio. In fact I created a new word in the English language to describe him: the WRETCHIDITY of Bob's life. Sitting there with his shirt hanging out and his shoe laces undone, I called him the dead end kid of Oakwood.

His father's brother emigrated to New Zealand before the war and Bob still kept in touch with them. I said to him once, "Do your relatives in New Zealand know what a wretched life you lead?"

Bob just laughed. "I hope not," he replied.

He liked the girl who worked behind the counter in the bookies. She said to me once, "Where did you dig Bob up from?"

I replied, "I think he is a little treasure."

She said, "I wish you'd left him buried."

Another time, I said to her, "Why don't you have Bob for Christmas dinner?"

Do you know what she said? "I'd rather have a turkey."

Bob said. "I don't think I like that woman any more."

"Never mind Bob," I replied, "there are plenty more fish in the sea." I used to sing to him, "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby's in love."

In the bookies once, he said. "I haven't eaten for two days."

Someone shouted back, "Well force yourself, Bob!"

Another time, after he had lost a lot of money, he said he was thinking about ending it all.

Walt shouted from the back of the room, "I wish you would, Bob, and do us all a favour!"

Walt had a shiny, bald head and black teeth. They were all lined up like little black dominoes ready for action. I always remember the highest mainline railway station in England has something to do with the back of Walt's head... Dent, on the Carlisle to Settle line, because of the dent in the back of Walt's head.

Bob shouted back, "What hair shampoo do you use, Walt? "Wash and go? Every time you wash, a bit more hair goes."

Walt replied. "Yes Bob, it's like your money... here today and gone tomorrow."

I'm afraid you don't get any sympathy in a bookies.

Walt asked me once if I liked opera. I said, "I watch that Oprah Winfrey on TV." Needless to say, Walt was not amused.

I used to go to pub quizzes with Walt and a couple of his friends and we were in the Hope Inn on York Road one day. Walt was arguing with a guy and called him semi- illiterate.

The guy then stood up. "Don't you call me semi–illiterate; I am totally illiterate."

I swear that is exactly how it happened. Oh, and that just reminded me of the time I was at a friend's house with Alan and his wife, Linda. She asked me to go to the shop and gave me a list. On closer examination, one of the items listed was mag.

"What's this?" I said. "Do you want the television magazine?"

She had a look at the list. "No," she said, "that's margarine."

Another item on the list said tuff puss.

I said, "What's this you want, Linda, love?" She said that was toothpaste. Oh dear.

Alan said she wasn't the brightest spark but she was good in the bedroom.

"Well," I replied, "as long as you are happy, Alan, that's the main thing."

Bob once said to me, "If I get a big win, he'll be my best friend."

Dave said, "Tell him you don't want any friends."

"I don't know where all my money is going," Bob remarked.

I said, "Do you think it's got anything to do with the fact that you're sat in the bookies all day?"

He said he would have to cut down.

"Yes," I said "and pigs might grow wings and start to fly." He might as well have been married to the bookies. Could you imagine the ceremony? 'Do you, The Bookies, take thee, Bob, for every penny he has? To have and to hold from this day forth until death us do part? He would be the only man in the English divorce court to have the bookies named as the third party by his ex-wife for mental cruelty.

Somebody told me that when Bob took his newborn baby out for a walk he used to leave the pushchair outside the bookies while he put his bets on. He was walking the baby in the pram once with his wife and somebody said to his wife, "Oh, that's a nice baby; he's got your husband's nose."

"Yes," she replied, "but he's got his father's eyes."

When the little boy, Bob junior, was a little older, the school teacher told the children to draw a picture of their fathers at work. Bob junior drew a picture of his dad in the bookies with him sitting outside, waiting for his dad to come out. He certainly did not get the gambling habit from his parents. His mother was a lab technician. She met Alexander Fleming, the man who discovered penicillin, in 1928. His father was a skilled aircraft worker who, during World War Two, worked on the Halifax Bomber production line.

The guy responsible was Woody, who Bob met in 1966 when he got his first job at a tailoring factory called Benjamin Simon. In their dinner hour, Woody took Bob to the bookies and that was how it all started. Oh yes, Woody has a lot to answer for. I reckoned he could have spent over ninety thousand pounds on gambling... well, you add it up. Say forty pounds a week for a year – that was about two thousand pounds a year. Multiply that by nearly fifty years and that was how I got my total. On pressing him, he did admit to about thirty thousand pounds in that time.

"Surely I couldn't have spent that much on gambling," he protested.

When he lived in Watford he could have bought his flat under the Right to Buy scheme for twenty thousand pounds. He thought it would now be worth a hundred and fifty thousand pounds plus; now that would have been a better investment than the bookies.

He lived in a nice area of Leeds called Oakwood, in privately rented accommodation. He once he said to me that if he had a portfolio of properties he would have nice young ladies as tenants. When it came to collecting the rent, if one of them said, 'Oh I'm sorry, Bob, I can't afford to pay the rent this month, Bob would say, 'Well, love, the rent will have to be paid for one way or another.' You can guess what he meant, the dirty old sod.

Bob told me once he went on a cruise to Norway. It was so expensive, he ran out of money and had to go to the British Embassy to borrow some to tide him over. Well, how embarrassing was that! Talking about embarrassing moments, I was in Leeds city centre with him once. He asked me to go into the bank with him and change a one Euro coin he had into English money. After we'd stood in line for over ten minutes, the bank teller said, "I am sorry, sir, we only change notes back into English currency." Oh dear, oh dear.

Another time, he went on a coach trip to North America and was staying overnight in a Canadian hotel. He decided to go for a long walk to take in the breathtaking scenery of the Rockies and surrounding countryside.

On his way back to the hotel, a car pulled up and the occupant said, "Hop in; I will give you a lift back to the hotel."

"No thanks," Bob replied. "I'm just stretching my legs and taking in the scenery."

"Oh no," the guy said, "there have been some attacks by bears on the tourists recently. You'd better get in."

At that very moment, a ferocious growl emanated from the direction of the nearby forest. Bob needed no further encouragement – that was the quickest he had ever jumped into a motor vehicle. He firmly locked the door behind him, not wishing to end up as a meal for a grizzly bear. Mind you, he was only a small bloke and would only have made a small snack. After that, he stayed firmly in the hotel grounds until it was time to move on to his next destination.

At one time, he was a delivery driver in London. He had only just started working for a new firm so he was unfamiliar with the routes. He was very late on a delivery to the Hard Rock Café, so the manager told him off. Now, all Bob had to do was say he was sorry, he was new to the firm, there was heavy traffic and it wouldn't happen again. But not Bob, I'm afraid. Contrition was not in his vocabulary. He started swearing at the manager and told him where to get off in no uncertain terms. On his arrival back at the depot, the boss was waiting for him.

"Sorry, Bob," he said, "but you're fired. We've had a complaint from the manager of the Hard Rock Café. Here's your money; you know the way out."

That's the way it was with Bob. He said to me, "I could do with another hundred pounds a week coming in."

"If you kept out of the bookies," I told him, "and the Whitelocks pub at £3.60 a pint, you would be a hundred pounds better off."

"I think you've got a point there, Johnny boy," he replied.

The guy sitting on the other side of me in the bookies was Brian, who I called the Billy Dainty look-alike. What a nice full head of white hair he had. He took off his shoes and socks, rolled up his trouser legs and showed me his bad feet and legs.

I said, "Oh, Brian, you want to get to the Doctor's with those feet. You don't want to have them amputated, do you?"

"I'm not bothered if they take them off," he said. "I'll get more money on my pension."

Bob said Brian wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. Brian was seventy-five years old but he didn't look it, he had kept his age well. He told me he had a fiancée and showed me a picture of her on his mobile phone. She looked quite a bit younger than him.

"She'll look after me in my old age," he said.

"Look after your money, more like," I told him. "There's more chance of me getting hitched to Beyoncé than you getting a fiancé." It's a true saying there is no fool like an old fool. Still, it would be a very dull world if we were all the same.

I remember he once asked me to buy him some fish from the fish and chip shop. I brought it back to the bookies for him and after paying me, he asked me to unwrap it for him.

"Oh Brian that's bad," I told him. "You are a lazy old boy. Do you want me to put it in your mouth as well? What did your last slave die of?" In fact, he is so lazy now, he won't even turn the television to another channel because it is too much like hard work for him.

He gave me a horse racing tip once. It was called Tiber Tiger and guess where it came? Yes, you guessed it, plum last.

I said, "Brian, I would have been better off backing Tiger Woods to win the race. I think he would have finished further up the field than that donkey you told me."

Now my day of mischief in the bookies was over and it was time for me to leave. Little did I know it was to be my last visit. I was now looking forward to tomorrow as I was going fishing to a nice well-stocked lake in Church Fenton.

Three

As I drove along the country road to Church Fenton, a place I had been visiting since I was a teenager, l could not have imagined how my life was about to change from that day on. After arriving early I picked my spot, setting up my fishing tackle in double quick time, hoping to catch some of those large tench that resided in the lake there. I sat and waited patiently, but as so often in the past, they were not biting. They had outwitted me once again. They must have seen me coming, and said, "Here's John, no thank you."

I was so bored I decided to go for a walk to pass the time and get some exercise. I could see a derelict house in the distance so I thought I would aim for that and then make my way back in the hope the fish would be biting by the time I returned.

Reaching the house, it was a lot bigger than I had imagined. As I stood in front of the imposing structure I wondered who had lived there in the past and what stories the house would tell if it could speak. There was no longer a door, so out of curiosity I walked into the hallway, very narrow and dingy. Then I entered the main living room. Oh, what a sight! I could tell it had not been lived in for a very long time. I had seen worse before, but not since I was a teenager. The carpet was so worn, it was as bald as Walt's head. The walls were bare, neither papered nor painted. Somebody had written ROB in big letters on one of the walls. Something drew my gaze to the floor and when I looked down I could see dozens of woodlice running around my feet. Instinctively I started stamping on them to thin their numbers out. The horrible things sent a shiver down my spine and then in all the mayhem, the floor gave way and I went crashing down into the cellar. It seemed as though the whole world was suddenly caving in on me. I couldn't see a thing for all the dust and to make matters worse, it was getting down my throat.

As the dust settled, I could see just how lucky I had been, for I had landed on an old sofa which had broken my fall. So apart from my wounded pride because the woodlice had got the better of me, I was alright. When I regained my composure my first thought was to get out of the cellar so I made my way up the steps. The entrance had been sealed up with plasterboard so I had to give it a few robust kicks before it gave way.

Now back on the ground floor, I was just about to make my way out of the building after my lucky escape and then I paused. My curiosity was aroused once more and I decided to go back down into the cellar to see if I could find anything of value.

I had a good rummage around down there, but to no avail and I was just about to call it a day and throw the towel in when I noticed a locker in the corner. I tried the door and it opened first time. All I could see was one solitary item occupying one of the shelves. I grabbed it to get a better look and on closer examination it reminded me of a smaller version of a Lonsdale belt that was awarded to boxing champions. I closed the locker door and made my way over to the sofa which had softened my landing when I fell through the ceiling. I then sat down to further investigate my new find in the hope I had found something of value. I didn't know what to make of it, but no way was it a Lonsdale belt. There were strange patterns on the buckle, with a small white lens in the middle of it.

I was just about to get up and make my way back to the lake when a voice said hello, startling me. It seemed to be originating from the buckle part of the belt. I immediately dropped the belt on the floor, though I was sure I must have imagined it. But then the same voice said hello again. After hesitating for a moment I picked up the belt, reaching the conclusion that it must be some sort of interactive device. One of the locals had told me an inventor had lived there in the past so that was my logical conclusion to the situation I found myself in.

When the voice said hello for the third time, I decided to reply.

"Hello," I said, "what sort of interactive device are you?"

"I am the Guardianship. What is your name?"

"My name is John."

"From this moment on you are now Guardian John of the Guardianship."

I thought I would humour it. "What, does that entitle me to free entry to Blackpool pleasure beach?"

"No, but I can Transport you to any part of the Galaxy. Just tell me where you would like to go and I will Transport you there. Just stand up and put the belt on."

I immediately stood up, fastening the belt around my waist. I had never come across anything like the fastening mechanism before, it just sort of moulded together as I clipped it on.

"I'm ready," I said. "Transport me to the nicest place I have ever been to... St Peter's beach on the island of Barbados in the West Indies."

And so it turned out. A strong white light began to emanate from the lens on the belt buckle to a distance of about six to eight feet in front of me. The light then formed into a rotating white disc which increased in size until it was large enough for a man to step through.

At that stage the voice said, "Step through now, John."

With some trepidation I walked forward a few paces until I reached the disc. The light was so bright it was almost blinding. I hesitated momentarily and then I gingerly stepped into the light, expecting to walk straight through it, with my feet still touching the cellar floor. But to my utter astonishment, after clearing the blinding light I stepped out onto a white, sandy beach which I instantly recognised as St Peter's.

It was a beautiful, cloudless, sunny day, with the shoreline in front of me, palm trees behind me, and lots of tiny crabs making a run for it as if their life depended on it. They shot down their little burrows in quick succession, one by one, seemingly never to be seen again until the all-clear had been sounded. As all this was transpiring, the white disc behind me vanished almost instantaneously as I continued to marvel at the sight that confronted me. It must have been early morning; the sun was low and I had the beach completely to myself apart from the odd seagull weaving its way around the endless expanse of clear blue sky, always on the lookout for an easy feeding opportunity. It was all such a lot for me to take in. Was I dreaming? Had I passed out when I crashed through the cellar floor? Would I wake up soon, returning back to reality? Who knew what was about to happen? I certainly didn't. Well, there was no contest, it would be back to where I had come from. I immediately instructed the Guardianship to Transport me back to the cellar in Church Fenton, which it did, in the same way that I had come and in double quick time.

On arriving back in the cellar and after a little bit of a struggle, not being used to the mechanism, I removed the belt and tossed it on the floor. I then proceeded to lie on the sofa in the hope that I would wake up from my extended dream. Alas, it was not to be. This was reality; this was the situation I now found myself in. Now I always thought I was a logical, analytical person. I knew this sort of technology could not have been constructed on Earth, so I wanted answers and fast. I grabbed the belt, placing it next to me, and then I started my interrogation.

"Alright," I said in a very harsh, uncompromising tone, "who created you and how did you get here? Spill, or I will banish you to the crusher in the scrap yard from which there will be no return."

In a calm, collected voice, completely opposite to my sharp tones, he replied, "I was created by a people called the Kultarn who ruled the galaxy many thousands of years ago. They left me here. I know not why; all I can say for sure is that the Kultarn laid the foundation for every civilization in the Galaxy today, all created in their image."

It was quite a lot for a simple old soul like me to grasp all in one go. While I was in the process of taking all this information in, I noticed my watch on the floor at the point where I had stepped through the portal. I proceeded to pick it up and reunite it with my wrist.

After sitting down again, I asked the Guardianship, "Why did the watch not make the journey with me through the portal?"

He replied that no metallic or mechanical objects could be Transported. I would be the only living creature allowed through the portal.

"You can only Transport things like fabric, such as clothing. Everything else will be left behind at the entrance to the portal."

So that was that. I had been told.

"Now then," I said, "seeing that in my infinite wisdom I have decided to keep you, can I call you something other than the Guardianship?"

"Of course you can, John. You can call me any name you desire."

"I will keep it short then," I replied. "From now on, you will be known as Kev, after one of my old friends from comprehensive school. He was very brainy, always top of the class, especially at maths, so I thought the name would suit you."

"As you wish, John."

"Right, back to sleep for you," I said, flinging Kev over my shoulder and then making my way up the cellar steps, out of the house and back to the lake to collect my fishing tackle.

Would you believe it? While I had been away, the crafty fish had stolen the bait off my hook! I could just imagine them chuckling to themselves, as in disgust I packed up all my fishing tackle and put it in the boot of my car. Then I drove off... within the speed limit of course, even though I was so excited at my new find and wanted to get home as quickly as possible, all the time contemplating how I could exploit my new companion to good, but more importantly, profitable, use.

On arriving home I tried to keep to my normal routine. If nothing else, I am a creature of habit; if a hitman were after me he would find it very easy to accomplish his task, helped by the way I repetitively keep to the same set routines. I like nice, predictable historical and geographical patterns. After all, those were my two best subjects at school. Not easy subjects to make a living out of though, unless you want to teach those subjects, which certainly didn't appeal to me. That was how I met Bob in the bookies in 2009; I thought I had stumbled on an historical pattern in soccer's champions' league competition that I could possibly exploit for profitable use. Like most discoveries, it came about purely by accident.

The year before, when Manchester United and Chelsea contested the final, a friend called Allan asked me who he should back to win the final. I told him to back Manchester United. I seemed to notice over the years that it tended to be the usual suspects that won and Chelsea had not won the competition before. Anyway, Manchester United won, as predicted, though it went all the way to extra time and penalties. Still, a win is a win and a few pounds found its way into Allan's pocket as well, courtesy of the bookies. It was only when I got home that evening that I started to do some more in-depth research on the subject.

As it stands at the moment, for 19 out of the last 21 years the winner has turned out to be a team that has won the competition before. Not a bad starting point. Only about 12 of the 36 teams that start the competition have won it before. That was far too many, so I had to look for ways of narrowing it down even further. The first thing I spotted was, never go for the team that won it the year before. It has been 25 years now since a team achieved that – AC Milan, who won the competition in 1989 and 1990. Next, never go for a team from the same country that won it the year before, because it has been over 30 years since two different teams from the same country won it in consecutive years. That was Liverpool in 1981, then Aston villa in 1982. I cannot see the likes of Celtic, Ajax or Porto winning now, and they are too small in financial resources, lacking the critical mass to compete with the big boys. It seems to be rotating between the big clubs from four countries: Spain, Italy, Germany, and England. Get the sequence right and you are in the money. After modest success in 2009 when Barcelona won, because they were a short price, the formula really came into its own the following year, 2010. It came down to four teams, Inter Milan and AC Milan of Italy and Bayern Munich and Borussia Dortmund of Germany, all of them outsiders. Would you believe that Inter Milan at 14/1 and Bayern Munich at 18/1 actually contested the final, with Inter Milan going on to win? It's a nice feeling when you have cracked a code. I had modest winnings in 2011; I think Barcelona won it again. In 2012, Chelsea won it for the first time by beating one of my teams, Bayern Munich, in the final, but I had Bayern Munich at 22/1 before the competition started. So I was able to back Chelsea in the final to cover myself. I did not make a great deal of profit, but as Walt used to say, half of something is better than all of nothing. Just goes to show you though, the formula is not set in stone; you do find exceptions to the rule every now and then. The following year, 2013, I got two teams in the final again, Bayern Munich at 12/1 and Borussia Dortmund at 33/1. Bayern Munich went on to win. In 2014, I got Real Madrid in the final; they went on to beat Atletico Madrid. Another thing that caught my eye that year was that the last three times a German team had won the competition, the following year it had not only been a Spanish team that won, but it had also been Real Madrid that won. What more clues do people want that there are historical patterns at work?

Four

After locking up, showering and getting changed into my pyjamas, I fed and watered my pet cat, Felix, who continued to get under my feet during the feeding process, causing me to trip over him or, worse still, tread on him causing him to shriek loudly in anger. All was quickly forgotten as the goodies were piled on to his plate, Felix making short work of the rations, as if he had not eaten for a week. I called him Felix because the first tin of food I bought him was also called Felix.

Job completed, I made my way to the living room, turned the TV on, the lights off and then got wrapped up on the sofa to watch Emmerdale and Coronation Street. I know it's a sad life when you're looking forward to the soaps. Still, everybody to their own. Have you noticed that each new young actor or actress is to a large extent just a younger version of an older one? Take Katie in Coronation Street, Owen's youngest daughter. Well, to me she looks like a younger Natalie Portman. Or the guy in the lead part of the kitchen roll advert who is dressed up like a Mexican dancer; he looks like Nicholas Cage. In fact, the first time I saw the advert I thought it was him and it was only on closer examination I realised it wasn't. Funny old world, isn't it? I have also noticed how those two show's story lines tend to copy each other. Wouldn't you think that independently they could come up with some original ideas instead of constantly shadowing each other's story lines? Still, I enjoy them; I have been watching both shows for quite a few years.

Just as I was getting comfortable, who should make an appearance but Felix, jumping up on to my lap and making himself at home, purring all the while I continued to stroke him as I watched the TV. Felix has been a good companion to me. I got him from the naughty cat's home. The girls who worked there said he was the only cat they had ever put on lockdown, because he used to bully the other cats. He is big for a domestic cat. The girls also told me that he bites people he doesn't like. He has never bitten me, though. I think he knows which side his bread is buttered on, and I would send him back to the cat's home if he did. They also told me he was clever, being able to open windows and doors. He did meet his match though, when I first got him. There was a big, feral ginger cat raiding the dustbins for food. A big, ugly thing it was, with cuts and bruises on its face from all the fighting it had been involved in. Felix took him on to defend his territory, but he came off worse every time. He once hit Felix so hard he knocked one of his teeth out. This went on for two or three months, until one night I heard the wild cat rummaging in my dustbin, I thought that was my chance to get even with him. I dashed outside as quickly and as quietly as possible and then picked up the dustbin lid and firmly put it back on the dustbin. The wild cat went mad, furiously trying to push his way out. I had a job to keep the lid secure, but eventually he tired. I had won the battle. I then took the entire bin with the cat inside, placed it in the boot of my car and drove to a nearby village called Methley, one of my old fishing haunts, where I released him. Out he sprang like a whippet, no doubt extremely pleased at regaining his freedom, as he disappeared into the hedgerow, never to be seen by me or Felix again.

I do spoil him, though. I know this to be true because early one morning while I was still in bed, he managed to open the kitchen door and made his way to my bedroom. Once there, he frenziedly scratched the bottom of the door to attract my attention. I immediately got up, opened the door and said "What do you want, you little scamp?" Of course, I thought he was desperate to go outside. Not so; he went straight back into the kitchen. Then I concluded his plate must be empty and he wanted fresh rations. Well, I was partially right. The cheeky little monkey had some food left on the plate, but he was not satisfied with that, he wanted something better. Oh, I gave him some harsh words and then I kicked him out of the house until well into the afternoon to show my displeasure. When I finally let him back in, he knew he had done wrong, holding his head down and tail between his legs. I called him the dead end cat of Leeds. Not that he is fat and lazy like some cats; he is still nimble on his feet and quite capable of catching his fair share of mice and birds. One summer I was sitting on the sun lounger in the back garden, minding my own business and starting to nod off when that abruptly came to an end. A guy a couple of doors down from me had a racing greyhound. A very swift mover, he normally kept it tied up. Felix had got into the habit of teasing him, but on that particular day the greyhound had either managed to slip its lead, or been deliberately released, I never knew for sure which. Next there was a terrible commotion and the bushes rattled as the greyhound pursued Felix, gaining on him all the time. At least Felix had the good sense to run towards me and as I rose to my feet, Felix shot underneath the sun lounger. The greyhound then swerved away in a wide arc, after which it made its way back to its own property. Felix must have used up one of his nine lives as well as learning a very important lesson.

I got Felix a job once. Bob came to my house saying he had a rat in his kitchen.

I said, "I have just the cat to do the job for you."

I took Felix to Bob's house for a sleepover. Bob said he did a very good job; the rat put up a good fight, but there was only going to be one winner. Felix eventually got hold of it by the scruff and broke its neck. Bob tried to get the dead rat off him but Felix growled at him, not yet willing to let go of his hard-won trophy, so a good night's work all round.

I later thought I could start my own business; I would call it Rent-a-Cat. My advert would read: Got a pest? Get a cat, use Rent-a-Cat, the ecofriendly way to get rid of all your pests. We supply the cat and he will do the rest. Satisfaction guaranteed. Well, it was just an idea, although he does sometimes need my help to solve a particularly hard problem. He was sitting at the bottom of the garden once, tail swishing from left to right in an uncompromising manner so I decided to investigate. On my arrival and after closer inspection, I could see that Felix was trying to catch a big spider. It was hiding; you've heard of the hole in-the-wall gang, well this was the hole-in-the wall spider, only emerging when some unsuspecting insect landed on its web. Whereupon, in double quick time, it would shoot out of its bolt-hole and pounce upon its latest victim, disabling it, then wrapping it up in silk like an Egyptian mummy, ready to be devoured at a later date. I quickly concluded the spider had only got that big by being clever and not taking any unnecessary risks. As the old saying goes, there are old spiders and bold spiders, but there are no old, bold spiders. I had to come up with a strategy that would lure him out. All the time Felix was looking at me in anticipation. My solution was to catch a fly, no easy task in itself. I then placed the fly on the web, the spider instantly shot out to disable the fly and Felix then pounced on the spider, devouring it whole, and then just for good measure, the fly as well. The things I have to do for him! I can picture him now during those long summer days, lying in the back garden, fast asleep in the summer sun in company with his three cat companions, Molly, Polly and Dolly... his own little harem. Some cats have all the luck. Someone once said to me, he wouldn't mind being a cat because it's a life of luxury.

Well TV watching over for me, it was bed as usual at 11pm after the news. Not that I slept much that night, thinking about how I was going to make the maximum amount of money in the minimum amount of time out of my new find. I bet I had no more than five hours sleep, but that was enough; I was up like a lark as usual the following morning.

On opening the curtains, a beautiful sunny day greeted me. Not a cloud in the sky. I had formulated my plan and my mind was made up. I would go to London, case out the banks, the bigger the better. Then, in the dead of night, I would Transport myself into a bank vault and help myself to as much cash as I could carry in a couple of sacks. They say God helps them who help themselves and that was exactly what I intended to do. First things first, though. I phoned work to say I wouldn't be coming in any more; no more working for somebody else for me.

I got Kev to Transport me to a secluded spot in Hyde Park. Why drive or get the train when I can travel there instantly for no cost at all? After casing out the big banks I took in some sightseeing. Might as well enjoy myself while I am here, I thought, after which I Transported myself back home. Then it was off to bed early, setting the alarm for 3am, although I didn't sleep much because of the intense anticipation of what was about to happen.

After grabbing a couple of sacks, I instructed Kev which bank vault in London to Transport me into. Before I knew it I was there... oh, what a sight. All those bank notes! I was like a child in a sweet shop, I couldn't help it. In a mad frenzy I filled up the two sacks with bank notes. All I needed was a red suit and I would have looked like Father Christmas. I paused for a moment to admire my handiwork and then gave a military salute, saying, "Thank you, greedy bankers," as I instructed Kev to take me back home.

Once settled back in my own familiar surroundings, I emptied both sacks of money onto the floor. I then started grabbing handfuls of bank notes, tossing them into the air and laughing ever louder. After that I just flopped out on the sofa, eventually falling asleep until Felix woke me up by licking my face. From that day on, I travelled and lived the good life, from the pyramids of Egypt to the Taj Mahal and from the Grand Canyon to the Great Wall of China. I stayed in the best hotels, eating at the best restaurants and when the money ran out, I just pulled another bank job.

Now you might be wondering why was I living a life of excess like this? Well, when I was young my parents hit hard times, so when you have money you make the most of it. Mind you, I once saw a TV programme about the great train robbers of August 1963. I think the interviewer was talking to one of the grown up children of one of the robbers, many years after the event. She made a very interesting point by saying that, in her opinion, suddenly acquiring lots of money without having had the education to know how to look after it and invest it wisely was a recipe for disaster. I think she had a very valid point. I remember my mother taking me to the pawn shop when I was a teenager. It was to be seared into my memory for life. What a sight confronted me when we arrived. The pawn broker was at one end of the street and the Labour Exchange was at the other. I think they are called Job Centres now. They both had queues so long they almost met in the middle, but not quite. My mother and I slotted in at the end of the pawn broker's queue, slowly working our way to the front.

On entering the shop proper, what confronted me were endless rows upon rows of goods wrapped in brown paper. Mister Beetham, the proprietor, was in negotiation with a customer who was in the process of depositing goods with him. With arms waving energetically out in front of him, he was saying, "I'm only lending you money on the goods, not buying them." After further haggling, terms were agreed and his assistant, a tall, slim older man who reminded me of a character out of a Charles Dickens novel with his bald head and spectacles, laboriously entered the transaction in his ledger. A ticket was given as a receipt to the customer along with the cash amount that had been agreed.

Next, the moment of truth. My mother's turn had arrived and, not for the first time, she had her typewriter to pawn. It must have had its own season ticket to that place.

"Hello, Rita," Mister Beetham said, smiling as he spoke. "How are you getting on with the book you are writing?"

My mother had written a book back in the sixties called Love Tears and Laughter, based on her experiences of life in the thirties and forties. Alas, she could not get the book published. I remember when I was a youngster, the postman delivering the mail and my mother, seeing the envelope, being in a state of excited anticipation but the response from the publisher was always the same. A flat rejection; a Dear John; thanks but no thanks. I did read the book when I was old enough to understand it. All these years later I can only remember fragments of it. I do remember reading the part when my mother was a teenager in London during the very early part of the war during the blitz. She worked for a Doctor Sears. He had two little girls who my mother helped to look after and they later grew up to be film stars, Heather and Ann Sears.

The only other part of the book I can remember in full was when my mother left school in 1937, aged fourteen. Her first job was in a seafront boarding house in Blackpool. Henry Hall and his big band were staying at the boarding house; he would have been playing at the Winter Gardens. My mother said he always gave her a good tip for polishing his shoes to a good standard. But when it came to washing the dishes, things were a little more unorthodox to say the least. My mother was just about to make a start on washing the dishes when the proprietor of the boarding house, who had his dog with him, instructed my mother to hold out the plate for the dog to lick clean. This the dog proceeded to do, very energetically, after which my mother washed and dried the plate. This process was repeated until all the washing up was complete. I suppose you could call it recycling 1930s style, with nothing going to waste, the dog being the waste disposal unit. Well, I suppose it saved on the pet food bill. I thought it was hilarious and it has stuck in my mind ever since.

There is another scene I remember from the book. During the war, my mother was dancing with an army officer who had a false arm. She found that out when it came off his shoulder by mistake and ended up in her hands. That must have been a sight to see, but not for my mother and the officer.

When my mother passed away the manuscript was lost forever, never to be seen again.

"The book is coming along nicely, Mister Beetham," my mother replied. Then it was down to business. Terms were agreed, receipt and money issued and that was that, until the next time.

And what of me? How had this life of excess affected my personality? Well, I am afraid only for the worse, turning me into a morally bankrupt person, devoid of any conscience. Little did I know that this life of excess would soon be coming to an end; in fact, before long none of us would have any time left at all.

Five

I was in Los Angeles in California, one of my favorite haunts. English-speaking, of course, nice all year round climate – their winter was like our summer – what a great place to be. In the past I had done well out of their presidential elections. The two basic rules to remember are, firstly: never back a particular party to serve more than two terms in a row. Only once since 1952 has that occurred, with the Reagan/Bush years of 1980 to 1992. Secondly: always back a sitting president to be re-elected. Only once since 1932 has that failed to happen, when Carter failed to get re-elected in 1980. Mind you, it is only a two-horse race so you have a 50% chance of winning anyway and the prices are very poor.

Anyway, this particular night I was eating out at one of my favorite restaurants – one of the most expensive, of course. Only the best for me now. During the meal the waitress made a mistake by accidently knocking a glass of wine over me when she was delivering one of the courses. The old me would have laughed it off and thought nothing more of it, but not the new, nasty John. I immediately demanded to see the manager and I made such a song and dance about the affair that in the end the manager gave her the sack, or as the Americans called it, let her go. The last thing I remember as I left the restaurant was the waitress crying and wiping away the tears with her hanky. I didn't even bat an eyelid, but just thought to myself, you cannot get the right staff these days. That was the new me, morally bankrupt and totally devoid of any conscience.

As I left to make the short walk back to the hotel, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Of course, at the time I did not realise he was following me; there were plenty of people about and nothing to arouse my suspicion.

On arrival back at the hotel the receptionist said, "Did you have a good night, sir?"

I growled back, "Nothing has been good about it." With that sarcastic comment I made my way back to my penthouse suite, the best the hotel had to offer. On entering my room, I locked up and was just about to shower and then retire for the evening when there was a knock on the door. Who on earth could it be at this time of the night?

I opened the door saying, "I didn't order room service... oh, you remind me of the guy who plays the lead role in Peaky Blinders. Anyway, get lost. Whatever you're peddling, I'm not interested, goodnight and goodbye." I attempted to slam the door in his face. He was quick, though, and used his foot to stop the door closing.

"I want to talk to you, John," he said, opening his jacket to reveal, around his waist... guess what? Yes, there it was in full view, a Guardianship belt the same as mine. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I noticed his foot was away from the door, so this time I managed to slam it shut. I turned around, telling Kev, "Transport me back to my home in England." As always, he complied very quickly and before I knew it I was back home in my living room in Leeds, where I thought I would be safe. That was a close call. I did not want to go through that experience again. But I had been lulled into a false sense of security. As soon as I turned around I could see a familiar white disc forming as my nemesis stepped through the portal to confront me once again.

"John, don't go," he said. "I only want to talk, that's all. Just a few minutes of your time and then I will be gone."

I came to the conclusion that I was not going to be able to lose him so I might as well listen to what he had to say. "Go on then," I replied. "You talked me into it." I gestured for him to take a seat.

"My name is Kronos," he said. "I am here on behalf of the Solaran Commonwealth and their Hellertron allies who are locked in a vicious war with the Kaytons."

After what Kev had told me previously, I was prepared to listen and believe anything. "Yes, but what has all this got to do with me?" I asked.

"It has everything to do with you," Kronos replied. "The Hellertrons have recently suffered a massive strategical defeat and are in full retreat. The Solarans were in the process of sending reinforcements to bolster them and form a screening line to cover their retreat. Now to do this, the Solarans have had to shorten their front line by evacuating a number of salients to create a reserve."

"Can they win?" I enquired, "Or at least draw even?"

"No, John. It is only a matter of months; now a tipping point has been passed, defeat is inevitable—"

"But you never know," I interrupted. "Some unexpected turn of events or a secret weapon could yet turn the course of the war. You have got to keep hoping for eventual victory. At least you have those few months to play with."

"I suppose that is possible, but still very unlikely. The problem is, John, that Earth does not have a few months. Earth lies in one of those salients which is being evacuated as we speak."

All went deadly quiet as I suddenly realised the full significance of what he was saying. I began to sweat profusely and shake with fear, feeling sick in the pit of my stomach and having to summon all my remaining composure to reply to Kronos.

"How long has Earth got?" I put to him.

"A Kayton battle squadron is already heading towards this solar system. We estimate that, at its current Translight speed, it will reach Earth a week today."

I stood up, took the belt off and tossed it across the table. "Here, you take it. I never wanted the damned thing anyway. You cannot put all this on me – why don't you go and talk to the United Nations?"

"I'm afraid that would be futile, John. All it would do is cause mass panic."

"But surely you must have Transport ships that you could use to evacuate Earth's population before the Kaytons arrive?"

"Yes, that is correct, John. But they are all at full stretch supplying the Solaran Army's needs and even if they were all brought to bear they would at best be able to evacuate no more than half of Earth's population in the time available. I think it would be a futile exercise and as I said before, that sort of action would also cause a mass panic."

"So what are you proposing, then?" I asked in a sullen, dejected manner.

"Now John," Kronos replied "the Kaytons do have one potential weakness in that seventy percent of their armed forces is made up of human Drones. That is, people from conquered planets who have been forced to fight for them using mind control technology. Essentially the Kaytons maintain control by a signal being transmitted from a beacon in the Citadel on their home planet of Tyros. No one has been able to replicate what they have done. The signal cannot be jammed; the Solarans have tried unsuccessfully on numerous occasions, all attempts ending in abject failure. If the signal could be killed at source the Drones would revert back to normal and turn on their former masters, starting a rebellion. The Solarans and Hellertrons could take full advantage by hitting them with everything they have to hand. Hopefully, the end would be quick. We already have an agent on Tyros... one of our best, Adema. He has regular access to the Citadel where the Kayton Supreme Council is located, along with all their command and control assets including the Drone command bunker."

"So what has all this got to do with me? If your man has access to the Citadel, why is he not able to knock out the signal transmitter himself?"

"Good question, John. The problem is that two Drone guards have to accompany every maintenance worker in the Citadel for security."

"What about trying to get two more agents in to make up the numbers?" I replied. "The problem would then be solved."

"The trouble is, it took years to get an agent on Tyros and it would take years to get another one on, never mind two, the security screening procedures are so effective."

It then began to dawn on me where the direction of this conversation was leading.

"Oh no," I said, "you are not thinking what I am thinking, are you? That you and I Transport ourselves to Tyros and take the place of the two Drone guards? You can forget that for a game of soldiers. The answer is a definite no. Cheeky beggar, coming here and shouting the odds, trying to con me into what sounds to all intents and purposes like a suicide mission."

"I'm afraid, John, there is no other alternative. The Guardianships are not transferable and according to the ancient Kultarn texts, only two have been created, although God only knows why it chose you to be the Guardian. All you have done so far is disgrace the Kultarn legacy with your actions. I can only assume the Guardianship has been lying dormant for so long its judgment has become impaired."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied. "You certainly know how to cheer a guy up."

"I have to tell it to you as it is," Kronos said. "Now listen, John. Adema has been on Tyros for three years. He has formulated a workable plan and is confident he can get us into not only the Citadel, but also the Drone command bunker without getting into a fire fight. All we will have to do then is kill the technicians in the transmitting room and then plant the explosive charges to sever the link to the control beacon which transmits the signal throughout the Kayton Empire. We should then be able to sit it out, letting the rebellion take its course."

"You make it all sound so easy. Things could still go wrong, especially with a novice like me weighing you down with my lack of experience."

"All missions are dangerous, John. I should know, I have been on enough of them. But we would train you up in the short time available to get you at least to a minimum standard. If I thought you were not ready I would not ask you to go. It is as simple as that. There is just one other piece of information I need to tell you. The Kaytons have set up a massive energy field completely enveloping Tyros. They call it the Transdamping barrier. It consumes a third of the power generated on Tyros and it was constructed to stop me Transporting myself to Tyros. Up until now it was thought to be impenetrable by the scientific community of both the Kaytons and Solarans. But we have a brilliant young scientist on Sontral, the Solarans' home planet. He thinks he has found a way to combine our two Guardianship portals into one and breakthrough the Transdamping barrier, Transporting us both undetected to the surface of Tyros."

"You certainly have an answer for everything," I told him, "but it is all too much for me to understand. I need time to think and take it all in."

"Understandable, but I cannot give you too long. I will meet you here in exactly twenty-four hours. We cannot delay any longer than that; we need as much time as possible to get you trained up for the mission."

"Just one more thing," I said, "how on earth did you manage to find me and follow me at the same time?"

"Well, John, I am a very crafty fellow. You can only see me where I have been or where I am going to be, but never actually where I am. But then again, I do tell a lot of porky pies. No, I am not that good." Kronos gave a cheeky grin as he continued, "As soon as your Guardianship became active it notified me, telling me your every move as you made it. If you had bothered to ask your Guardianship, it would have told you about me."

"I wish I had never set eyes on it," I moaned, "putting me in this intolerable position. Why, oh why do they say you get punished in your next life for the sins you committed in your last life? All I can say is I must have been a bad sod in my last life."

"I am afraid what is past is past and what has happened has happened and cannot be changed. You just have to accept the situation you find yourself in now and make the best of it. In the end, only you can make the final decision whether to come back with me to Sontral."

"You have certainly given me a lot to contemplate," I replied as I bade Kronos goodbye."

"I will meet you here in exactly twenty four hours." Kronos activated his Guardianship, slipping away into the depths of space as quickly and as quietly as he had arrived, leaving me to my fate. I remember thinking if I agreed and travelled with him to Sontral to undertake this enterprise, who would be the biggest fool? The fool himself or the fool who follows him?

I then proceeded to take my frustration out on Kev. I grabbed the belt from the top of the table where it had lain since I had tried to give it to Kronos earlier. I threw it down on the floor in front of me as hard as my limited strength would allow me. Next, I kicked it three or four times across the floor, swearing all the time as I did so. I turned around, walked a few paces away, then turned back again and proceeded to kick the belt another three or four times until it ended up underneath the television stand, after which I cursed it in no uncertain terms for conning me and being responsible for all my troubles. Calming down a little, I then sat down on the bed for a few minutes, just staring aimlessly straight ahead with my mouth wide open. I could hear myself breathing heavily. I felt as though my whole world was collapsing in on me. I had no time or space left; no room to manoeuvre. Only the thought of nothingness lying in wait to devour me like a hungry monster that I imagined used to lie under my bed when I was a child.

After what seemed like an eternity, broken only by intermittently throwing objects that came to hand at Kev, cursing him as I did so, I decided to call it a day by getting ready for bed and retiring for the evening. It must have been two or three hours before I fell asleep, with all the multiple thoughts spinning and swirling around my overloaded little brain. I should think it was the worst night I had experienced since I was a teenager.

I well remember being seventeen years old and experiencing what I could only describe as night terrors. I saw a documentary a couple of years ago where the people were describing exactly the same sequence of events I had encountered all those years ago. During the night I felt as though there was an overwhelming evil presence in the bedroom and then a hooded figure dressed like a monk would appear. I could not see his face; probably just as well. Then the hooded figure appeared to be pressing down on my chest, trying to stop me breathing. After an intense battle of wills I woke, sitting up and gasping for breath, thinking to myself, you are not getting me, you sod.

I experienced the same sequence of events seven or eight times over the next few months and each time I won the battle. At the time I never thought much about it. I thought it was just a recurring nightmare and then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, never to return. It just faded into a distant corner of my memory until I saw that documentary in which so many other people had experienced the same night terrors as me. I called those unwanted night visitors the Devil's hoodies – certainly creatures you would not willingly invite to your home for a sleepover. I could just imagine the Devil saying to his countless minions, "Oh, it is getting a bit cold down here; I want more stokers to keep the heat up and the younger the better. Then, every night like clockwork, he would kick his army of worker gatherers out with, "Bring me back some nice young souls and don't bother coming back until you do," rubbing his hands in gleeful anticipation of the harvest of young unsuspecting souls to come.
Six

Morning finally arrived and my mind was made up. I suppose in the end there never was a choice. I would be going with Kronos on his fool's errand for better or for worse. That would be the path I now followed but how it would end, I did not know. I suppose it was a case of better an end with horror than a horror without end. But first things first; I had to sort out my loose ends before I departed on my journey.

I got myself ready and put my Guardianship belt on. Now I had calmed down, Kev was back in my good books.

"Good morning, Kev," I said.

"Good morning, John," he replied, apparently none the worse for the beating I had given him the night before.

I instructed him to take me back to my hotel room in Los Angeles, which I had so abruptly fled the night before. After settling my account, I went to see a lawyer. I instructed him to hire a private detective to track down the waitress who I was responsible for getting fired at the posh restaurant. After which, the money I had left would be given to her to start her own business on the pretext that it was a bequest from a long lost relative. What I would have given to see the look on her face when she received her new found wealth. At least, belatedly, I had tried to do the right thing. On completion of that task it was back to England, with one more job to do before I kept my appointment with Kronos.

Now you might be thinking to yourself what on earth happened to Felix while I was spending the bank's money gallivanting around the world and living the good life? In fact I had put him in the boarding kennels... well, it was better than sending him back to the naughty cats' home, or so I thought. After plucking up the courage, I paid him a farewell visit. The staff at the kennels were none too pleased to see me. They said he had been biting the staff and they should be getting danger money for looking after him. They were hoping I had come to take him home. After paying the manager off with a bonus, they agreed to carry on caring for him. That was a weight off my mind. Then I was led to the main boarding area to see him. Now, if I thought he was going to be pleased to see me, I was mistaken. As I approached his individual cage I could see his tail swishing angrily from left to right as if he was ready to settle an old score with me. A member of staff opened the cage for me, after which she hastily retreated. I thought that was an ominous sign. As I tried to stroke him he wreaked his revenge on me by biting my hand, really digging his teeth in, and then just for good measure, growled at me. After extracting my hand I shut and locked the cage door. I had tried my best; what more could I expect after the way I had treated him? I now know what those poor mice and birds felt like that he used to catch, with those needle sharp teeth digging into them mercilessly. Still, he was only doing what came naturally to him. Sometimes he would bring the mice or birds into the house and they were not always dead. On occasions they would escape... what a sight to behold, Felix and I running around the house trying to recapture them. I am glad to say we always won.

Once I was sitting in the living room, curled up nice and comfortable in front of the fire watching the TV when Felix approached me with a dead sparrow in his mouth. He jumped up onto the chair and then, would you believe it, he dropped the recently departed sparrow onto my lap. A friend later said he brought me a present to impress me. I said if he wanted to impress me he should go and get a job. The poor old sparrow. All I could hope for was that Felix made it quick; one brief moment and all its troubles would have been over, subsequently waking up in sparrow Heaven. It made me wonder if animals go to the same Heaven as people, or do they have their own separate Heaven?

When we were both outside in the garden I would tap my chest with my hand. Felix took this as an invitation to jump up with all his strength onto my chest, whereupon he proceeded to manoeuvre his way around my neck, so that I was walking around wearing him like a scarf. Dave once asked me, if I could be any animal which one would I be and why. I said a cat, because it had an easy life. Well, Felix certainly had. Bob said he would be a grizzly bear because they slept all winter and had no gas or electricity bills to pay. And Brian said he would be a crocodile because no one messed with them and got away with it. They were here before the dinosaurs and they will be here long after man has left the scene.

After saying goodbye to Felix and promising to return one day and get him out of his enforced imprisonment, I made my way back home to keep my appointment with Kronos. As I was walking through the city centre I could hear a group of street musicians playing. They were South American and singing and dancing in their native costume. I stood and listened to them and at the end of the performance, one of them came over to me and said, "You look so sad... you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders." How right he was. Anyway, I continued on my way, all the time thinking about what he said. As I drove home I couldn't help but notice people going about their business; some happy, some sad, but all free to do as they pleased. Kronos was right about not wanting to warn them of the imminent arrival of the Kaytons. In these circumstances it really was a case of ignorance is bliss. I arrived back home with only a few minutes to spare and then sat at the dining room table, arms folded, with a glum face, awaiting the imminent arrival of Kronos.

Exactly on time, as promised, his portal formed and Kronos emerged. Almost immediately he said, "Well, John, what is it to be? Are you going to come to Sontral with me? If you do, you will certainly see the stars."

"More likely an early grave," I replied, "but yes, I am going to go with you to Sontral and do what has to be done, to the best of my ability." Even though my mother used to warn me never to volunteer for anything, this time I had to disagree with her.

"Good," Kronos said in a rather harsh tone. "At least for once in your life you are going to do the right thing. Now, there is one thing I cannot stress the importance of enough. In no circumstances do you mention Earth or anything about Earth. If the Kaytons found out about your home planet there would be dire consequences. Heed this warning well, John." It seemed he was speaking from bitter experience.

"Okay," I replied, hesitantly, "I get the message, but there is one question I would like to ask you before we depart."

"Go on, I'm listening."

"Who came up with this crazy idea in the first place, to attack what to all intents and purposes sounds like one of the most heavily defended installations in the galaxy?"

"You have Commander Vadoran, the head of S.I.S. the Solaran Intelligence Service, to thank for that. He came up with the original idea. He brought all the elements of the plan together, you being the last piece of the jigsaw to fall into place. All secret weapons programmes come under his control as well as all agents supporting the resistance movements on occupied planets. In addition, he runs the internal security services of the Solaran Commonwealth. Some would say he runs a state within a state, answerable directly and only to the Prime Minister, not Parliament."

"Sounds a real charmer," I replied. "I will give him a piece of my mind when I see him."

"I wouldn't cross him if I were you, John. He makes me seem like a pussy cat."

"Oh well," I replied, "forewarned is forearmed."

"If that is everything, John, I think it is time we made a move. We cannot keep the Prime Minister waiting. Just instruct your Guardianship to Transport you to the cabinet room of the Prime Minister on Sontral. He will do the rest and I will meet you there."

I followed his instructions to the letter but I waited for Kronos to go through first. I hesitated momentarily but then succumbed to the inevitable, stepping through the portal and into the unknown, wondering as I did so whether I would ever see Earth again.

Seven

Emerging from the portal, I was now on another planet many light years away from Earth and, for the first time, had travelled off my own world. I was now on Sontral, capital planet of the Solaran Commonwealth and centre of the resistance to the Kaytons. My arrival was a few seconds after Kronos, who had an anxious look on his face, probably wondering if I had changed my mind at the last minute. No such luck; I was here for the long haul. That's not to say I wouldn't have preferred to be at home, being a live coward rather than a dead hero. As the old saying went, 'If there is any trouble I will be right behind you, a long way behind you. I will be there when the first shot is fired but I will be back home underneath the bed by the time the second shot is fired.' I remember when I was a child, I used to hide underneath the sofa when the doctor paid me a home visit. It took all my mother's ingenuity to coax me out, calling me a little scamp in the process. Who would have thought it, though? Me, of all people, now standing in the Prime Minister's cabinet room. Looking around, it did not look that much different from ours in Downing Street. It was maybe a little more futuristic with the metallic table and chairs but apart from that they were more or less the same.

"So you made it then," Kronos said. "I thought you might have had second thoughts."

"No, I was just testing you," I replied. "Anyway, all the best things are worth waiting for."

"Definitely not in your case," Kronos said in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

I thought, well, it's always nice to be wanted.

At that very moment, the door opened and three figures filed in, walking towards me and Kronos.

"John," Kronos said, "I would like you to meet the Prime Minister of the Solaran Commonwealth."

"Welcome to Sontral, John," the Prime Minister said as we shook hands. "I want to thank you on behalf of the Solaran people for joining us in our fight against the Kaytons and agreeing to take part in the very dangerous mission on Tyros with Kronos and Adema, our deep cover agent, who is already preparing the way for you both as we speak."

"It is an honour to meet you, Mister Prime Minister," I replied. "I'm glad I can be of service and I hope your faith in me will be justified by the successful outcome of the mission." Well I thought I had better lay it on a bit, I mean it's not every day you meet a Prime Minister.

Next, Kronos introduced me to Professor Zinnerman, head of the scientific directorate of the Solaran Commonwealth and chief advisor to the Prime Minister on scientific matters.

"How are you, John?" the Professor said. "It is good to have you on board."

"Nice to meet you," I replied. "I have never met a real live professor before." I couldn't help staring at his pretty little dickey bow and tweed jacket.

"And finally, John," Kronos said, "I would like you to meet Commander Vadoran, head of S.I.S., the Solaran intelligence service."

"Good to finally meet you, John," the Commander said. "Kronos has told me such a lot about you already. Of course, I would like to learn more. I will debrief you in full once you have had a chance to settle in."

"Pleasure to meet you, Commander," I replied. "I am looking forward to having a nice long chat with you." As I surveyed this tall, dark-haired well- built man dressed in black, he looked just the sort of man you would not want to meet in a dark alley late at night.

"Right, John," the Prime Minister said, "Professor Zinnerman and I have a meeting to chair so I will leave you for now in the capable hands of Commander Vadoran and Kronos. I will speak to you at length tomorrow."

"I look forward to seeing you then," I replied as the Prime Minister and Professor Zinnerman hastily left the room to attend their pre-arranged meeting.

"There is just one more thing I would like you to do," Commander Vadoran said, "before you are shown to your quarters to retire for the evening.

"Commander?"

I would like you to accompany me and Kronos to the research facility to meet Chris the scientist. Chris will attempt to break the Transdamping barrier and Transport you and Kronos to the surface of Tyros in a few days' time. Chris would like to take some readings from your Guardianship so that he can assimilate the information into his own calculations."

"Of course," I replied. "I would be glad to help out."

All three of us then left the cabinet room, proceeding through an exit door and then down some escalators to an underground railway platform where we boarded a train to the research facility. We arrived after only a few minutes, although for me it seemed an eternity as I struggled to come to terms with everything that had happened so far. Only a few minutes' walk from the station and we were in the research facility proper.

"This is Chris," Kronos said. I shook hands with a tall, thin guy wearing glasses.

"Good to meet you, John," Chris said.

"Likewise," I replied.

"And last but by no means least," Chris said, "I would like you to meet my assistant Alana."

She must have been several years younger than him. "Nice to meet you, John," Alana said.

"Nice to meet you, Alana," I replied. "You are the first pretty face I have seen since I arrived on Sontral."

She smiled along with Chris and Kronos. Only Commander Vadoran kept a straight face. Somehow, I could not imagine him being the life and soul of a party. In fact, I thought he was the sort of guy that if you saw him in the street you would deliberately cross the road to avoid him. He certainly would not be on my Christmas card list. Mind you, I might have been on his hit list.

"Just the two of you, then," I continued. "You're going to break the might of the Kaytons' energy barrier."

"Yes, I hope so," Chris said. "We have been working on this project for several years since Commander Vadoran plucked us both out of obscurity to fund my research in this field on Professor Zinnerman's recommendation. Now John, with your permission I would like to take a few readings from your Guardianship so that I can incorporate them into my calculations."

"I call him Kev," I replied. "It makes him seem, to me at least, to be more like a person than a machine. Mind you, I still have not forgiven him entirely for conning me into becoming a Guardian."

"Whatever makes you happy," Chris said. He scanned Kev with his small hand-held device and then showed us all a short video recording of Kronos trying to break the Transdamping barrier. The white rotating disc began to appear and enlarge as normal but at full size it turned a murky, black colour as what I could only describe as white bolts of lightning flashed across the disc in rapid succession.

"You see what we are up against, John," Chris said as he switched the video recording off. "Nobody thinks the barrier can be broken, but I know better. I think I have found a way to combine both your beams into one which, if successful, should punch a hole through the Transdamping barrier, allowing you and Kronos to Transport yourselves to Tyros. Now I have your readings I can begin to calibrate my equipment, hopefully making the attempt in the next few days."

"No rush," I replied. "Take your time."

Everyone smiled except Commander Vadoran, miserable old beggar, who said, "If that is everything, we will leave you both to carry on your work in peace with no more unnecessary distractions from us amateurs."

"John must be tired," Kronos said, "so we will show him to his quarters."

We all bade each other goodnight and then it was back on the underground railway system. I had not seen the Sun on this planet yet; I was beginning to feel like a troglodyte, an underground dweller. Would I ever reach the surface and see daylight?

We arrived at our station in only a matter of minutes and after disembarking, made our way on foot. At first there were plenty of Commander Vadoran's men to be seen but as we approached what for the next few days would be my quarters, there was not a soul to be seen. It was as if the section I would be occupying was completely sealed off from the outside world.

Kronos showed me around what I would be calling home for the next few days, comprising just a small living room, bathroom and bedroom. At least I had a television so I could watch the Solaran soaps in the evening in my free time.

"Very Spartan," I remarked.

"And so it should be," Kronos replied. "You are here to work, not live it up in five star luxury. I will bid you goodnight; see you in the morning bright and early."

"And a good night to you, as well," I replied as he departed.

Now that I was on my own with Commander Vadoran, I half expected him to put his knuckle dusters on and give me a good working over.

"Take a seat, John," the Commander said.

As we both sat down I felt as if I was at the dentist's... one wrong move and he would yank all my teeth out.

"Thank you, Commander." I made myself comfortable. "So you are the man who formulated this plan?"

"Yes, John. I conceived the original idea several years ago and have worked tirelessly since that eureka moment to bring all the elements of the plan together. So far everything is proceeding exactly the way I had foreseen it. I think the whole venture is beautifully simple and yet cunningly precise, if successful—"

"If?" I interrupted."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "When successful," he continued, "the whole Kayton Empire will implode from within in a matter of hours. Of course, with a project like the Majestic programme, its code name is going to require absolute secrecy. I hope I can rely on your discretion. Only nine people... the Majestic Nine, I call them, know about the mission and that is how I would like to keep it."

"You can count on me," I replied. "It is my head on the chopping block and I do not want to lose it prematurely."

"Good. But I gather you were none too keen to join us in our great endeavour."

"Well, it is not my fight, is it?"

"It soon will be, when the Kaytons reach Earth in a few days' time."

I was shocked. "How many people know about Earth?"

"Besides Kronos, only myself and the Prime Minister know about Earth and that is the way it will stay as far as I am concerned. There would be dire consequences if the Kaytons ever found out," he warned. "At the very least you would be leaving yourself open to blackmail and at worst, well I wouldn't like to say what could happen. I will leave it at that."

"I bet you have had to make some hard decisions in your capacity as the head of S.I.S." I commented.

"Yes, John. I have had to make many life and death decisions over the years. It is not a job for the faint-hearted. I like to run a cold, efficient, machine-like service. That is how I got the job in the first place; there is no room for sentiment and emotion in this game. You may be the Guardian of the ancient Kultarn legacy but as far as I am concerned, I am the custodian of the Solaran Commonwealth. Politicians come and go but my presence is constant, a steadying influence in these turbulent times, and I will do whatever is necessary to ensure its survival. Do you understand what I am saying, John?"

"Yes," I replied, "you have made yourself crystal clear."

"Good. Now tell me, John, what do you really think of me?"

I needed no encouragement. "I think you are a coward who gets other people to do your dirty work for you, getting them killed in the process."

"John! If anyone else, with the exception of the Prime Minister and Kronos, said that to me I would kill them on the spot, no hesitation."

"Ah," I replied, "but you're not going to, are you Mister Vadoran? Because you need me to carry out your crackpot scheme."

"Yes you are right, John. But when this is all over, I hope you are not planning to spend any length of time on Sontral."

"I can assure you, Commander, I will be off Sontral quicker than a rat up a drainpipe."

"Then I think we both understand each other. I will bid you a good night."

"And a good night to you, Commander," I replied as I saw him out. I was glad to get rid of the pair of them... talk about having the good cop/ bad cop routine, all I was getting was two bad cops. Mind you I was impressed with the Commander's precise knowledge of detail, perfect clarity of mind and his iron will power, but I still nick-named him the grim reaper. Still, at least I consoled myself with the fact that I was using other people's gas and electricity and not mine, so I had no bills to pay while I was on Sontral.

So, for the first time today I was alone on a strange planet with only my own thoughts for company. How I longed to be home again, leading a normal, nondescript life. My parents had both passed away a few years previously but I couldn't help but wonder what advice they would have given me in this situation. My father was from Holland. He came to England in 1953 after serving six years in the Dutch Marines, being under-age when he entered at only seventeen years old. His parents had to give written permission for him to join. He always used to nag me when I was a teenager that abolishing conscription was the biggest mistake England ever made. I think it was finally phased out in 1963. He said they taught you discipline, team work and fitness, I used to rubbish his claims but, God bless his soul, over the passage of time I realised he was right. I saw a documentary about Germany a few years ago. Their population is 50% bigger than ours but they only have half our crime rate. Are you telling me that compulsory military service is not a factor? Mind you, as my father pointed out, they are a naturally disciplined people. He had first-hand experience of them during the war. He was a boy during the Germans' five year occupation of Holland, being just ten when Holland was occupied.

I asked him once what his first memory of the war was and he said he could remember the sky turning black as the German aircraft flew over his home town. He also told me he could remember being huddled around the radio with his family during the Battle of Britain, listening to the BBC which in itself was not allowed by the Germans. They were not military strategists but they did know a retired Naval Officer who had told them if England was not invaded by the end of September, they wouldn't be; the autumn seas would rule out an invasion until the following spring. The top priority for England then would be to get the United States into the war. You could not count on a country like Russia, for they could collapse or make a separate peace with Germany as they had done in World War One. The only sure way to eventual victory was the intervention of the United States, which thankfully was what happened.

Once I was looking at the war time production figures and found that America produced nearly three hundred thousand aircraft during the war, nearly three times what Germany produced. You do not have to be clever to figure out that Germany was eventually going to lose control of the skies. Yes, America really was the arsenal of Democracy. My Father said the German occupying forces were very arrogant. If they told you to jump, you asked how high. If you did not do as you were told you got sent to the war factories in Germany. Needless to say, the crime rate in Holland during the war was very low.

Eight

After my first day on Sontral I retired for the evening, waking up nice and early so that I would be ready for Kronos and the Commander who, as promised, arrived bright and early with a loud knock on the door.

"Come in!" I shouted. "I am decent."

As the sliding door opened, Kronos and the Commander duly entered my quarters and after the exchange of pleasantries, we got down to business.

Kronos explained that the Prime Minister would like me to meet the rest of his cabinet as well as the military Chiefs of Staff and the Hellertron Ambassador to the Solaran Commonwealth. Afterwards, if I was agreeable, he would like me to meet the Solaran people on a walkabout. The Solaran news services had already announced my arrival the previous night and the population was keen to meet me. I agreed but I was not really looking forward to the encounter. I do not like mingling in large groups and feel more at home with a one-to-one situation.

With that exchange out of the way we left my quarters to board the train to the Prime Minister's residence. At least I was familiar with those surroundings. On arrival, the three of us were shown into a large reception room where the Prime Minister and other dignitaries were waiting to greet us. The Prime Minister approached the three of us with another figure following on behind him.

"How are you, John?" he asked in a very jovial voice. "Did you have a good night?"

"Yes, thank you, Mister Prime Minister," I replied. "Much better than I expected."

"Now, John," the Prime Minister said, "I would like you to meet His Excellency the Hellertron Ambassador to the Solaran Commonwealth."

Now all the people I had met so far had been human, but not this guy. He reminded me of something out of Fright Night. The Hell in Hellertron, I thought was very appropriate.

"Oh my God!" I said, "You're ugly looking."

A look of utter shock registered on all the other guests' faces. Some covered their eyes with their hands whilst others muttered their disapproval.

One lone woman's voice at the back of the room shrieked, "Oh! The Guardian has just called The Hellertron Ambassador ugly... he is going to cause a diplomatic incident."

After a stony silence, the ambassador smiled, shook my hand and replied, "You should see me on a bad day, John. I look even worse than this. On behalf of the Hellertron people I would like to thank you for siding with us in our struggle against the Kaytons. I would also like to extend an invitation to you to visit our home planet of Rueatarn to meet our leader's high command and people, so that they can get to know you and thank you personally."

"I apologise for my earlier comment, Your Excellency," I replied contritely. I would be honoured to accept your kind invitation in the near future, as and when time allows. Consider it a promise."

After narrowly avoiding an incident with the ambassador, I was introduced to the rest of the guests who included all the members of the cabinet and all the military chiefs. Who would have thought it... me meeting all those important people? It was like being in Downing Street, meeting Cameron and Clegg and all the bigwigs in the government.

I noticed a military officer standing motionless in the corner of the room like a garden gnome in his smart uniform, completely impervious as to what was going on around him. He was carrying a small briefcase.

"What is in the case?" I asked Kronos. "Important cabinet papers?"

"No," Kronos replied, "it contains the launch codes for our forward missile bases. Only the Prime Minister can authorise their use."

I thought to myself, what a lot of responsibility for just one man to bear. Anyway, after the obligatory drinks and nibbles and what seemed to be endless small talk, the balcony doors were opened on the Prime Minister's orders and everyone began to make their way out onto the veranda. I was about to see daylight and Sontral's Sun, the first new one since I had started my epic journey.

Just before I made it out, Kronos said, "Now don't be overawed, John. The Solaran people only want to thank you for joining them in their struggle against the Kaytons."

What a welcome and what a sight awaited me! The vast square in front of us was filled to capacity and the roar of the huge cheer that rang out was deafening.

The Prime Minister and Kronos waved to the eager crowd and I followed suit instinctively, not wanting to be the odd one out in all this frenzied activity. I could feel the bottom of my trousers vibrate as a fly-past of Solaran ships began. Huge Battle Carriers, Battle Cruisers as well as single-seat Fighters whizzed past in quick succession, all very impressive. Kronos explained to me most of the ships were on Sontral for battle damage repair and would soon be making their way back to the various battle fronts. Apparently the Battle Cruisers were the work horses, the fast, hard hitting backbone of the fleet, as well as providing escort duties for the huge Battle Carriers.

As the fly-past came to its inevitable end, the Prime Minister turned towards me and said, "John will you accompany me and Kronos to meet the people?"

"All right," I replied in a hesitant voice.

We all left the balcony then, making our way down the stairs and out of the main doors. The Prime Minister and Kronos led the way over to the awaiting crowds who were situated behind a low-level barrier with their hands outstretched, eagerly waiting to shake their hands. I was tentatively following a little way behind them. However, I had no need to be apprehensive; they were so friendly, just wanting to shake my hand.

"Over here, John! Over here!" I kept hearing. I could barely keep up with the pace of events in this hectic environment. All the while, Commander Vadoran and his security staff were anxiously looking over our shoulders. It must have been a security nightmare for him and his staff. Something then happened that I will remember for the rest of my life.

An elderly woman grabbed my hand. "God bless you, John," she said as all seemed to go quiet, at least in our immediate area of activity. "The ancient Kultarn prophecies predicted this," she continued. "Listen, John, they read: Two Guardianships have been created. The two Guardianships will choose two Guardians. Those two Guardians will then come together as one and help prevent a terrible darkness from descending over the Galaxy. We know the war news is bad, John, but remember all the Solaran people are with you and Kronos, praying for the Kultarn miracle to come to pass."

Her hand then released its grip from mine as she slipped back into the crowd, smiling all the time until she disappeared from view altogether. As more and more eager citizens took her place, all wanting to wish me well, I was just about ready to drop.

Commander Vadoran noticed my condition first and gestured to the Prime Minister and Kronos, whereupon all three of us slowly made our way back to the relative quiet of the Prime Minister's residence as the crowd slowly went quiet, understanding our situation. The four of us retired to the Prime Minister's private sitting room to recharge our batteries and discuss important pressing matters.

"Thank you, John," the Prime Minister said. "The Solaran people really appreciate the effort you made today to meet and get to know them. It won't be forgotten."

"I try to be of service," I replied, "and I am sorry about the incident with the Hellertron Ambassador; good job he has a sense of humour."

"Don't worry," Kronos said, "it is all forgotten about now."

"Yes, it was all a good morale boosting exercise," barked Commander Vadoran in his usual straight forward manner, "but it is not going to change the course of the war—"

"Talking about the war," I interrupted, "is there anything else you can do, Prime Minister, to slow down the Kaytons' advance on Earth?"

"No, I am sorry, John," the Prime Minister replied. "Our forces are fighting a rearguard action as we speak. If we commit any more forces the Kaytons will start to get suspicious and wonder why we are fighting so heavily to defend what, on the face of it, is an unimportant part of the front. The original plan stands. If all goes well with Chris and Alana, you and Kronos will make the attempt to break the Transdamping barrier in three days' time, actually launching the assault on the Drone command bunker the following morning. We estimate that will be about twenty-four hours before the Kayton battle squadron reaches Earth."

"Not much room for error is there, then?" I said in a very dejected tone.

"I'm afraid not, John," the Prime Minister replied. "But you must understand we are all working under tremendous pressure."

Kronos said, "There is one more service we would like to ask of you today."

"I'm all yours," I replied. "Just name it."

"Well, of course, the Kaytons have themselves been searching in an effort to locate the second Guardianship; they are desperate to get hold of Kultarn technology to manipulate and use for their own ends. Even to the extent of launching deep penetration raids into Solaran and Hellertron territory, laying waste in the process many planets like Earth, sometimes only on the flimsiest of evidence. We have arranged, if you are agreeable, to meet the Kaytons in a neutral but secure location where the head of their scientific corps will conduct a verification check on your Guardianship. The confirmation process will not take long and by your actions you will have saved countless innocent lives."

"You're full of surprises," I replied, "but when you put it like that, how can I refuse? When do we leave?"

"Well," Kronos began, "how about now, John? Everything has been set up for us on the planet Marrilion in the Daygar system, right in the middle of no man's land between the Solaran and Kayton battle lines. All we will have to do on arrival is wait for the Kaytons to turn up. Hopefully that shouldn't be too long if they are travelling at maximum Translight speed."

"Oh you don't let the grass grow under your feet," I replied. "You're working me like a donkey; you are certainly getting your money's worth out of me. Good job I'm not in the union, they would have me out on strike."

The Prime Minister and Kronos smiled, but not Commander Vadoran who just stared at me in a disapproving manor, miserable old beggar. All four of us then rose to our feet as Kronos and I bade the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran goodbye. We then both told our Guardianships our destination coordinates and before we knew it, we were on another world.

Nine

Emerging on the other side, I stood in amazement as I surveyed this strange new world I had been talked into travelling to. With ice-capped mountains in the distance and the edge of a huge forest a few hundred yards away, we were standing in a large clearing with a Solaran ship just a few yards away.

"It's got two Suns," I observed.

"Yes." Kronos replied. "Binary systems are more common than you would think. Anyway, I promised you I would show you the Stars and I always keep my word."

"You're not kidding," I said. "I'm seeing sights no one on Earth has ever seen or is ever likely to see."

At that moment a group of Solaran crew members made their way over to us both. After the introductions, the Captain explained he had secured the immediate area, checking for anything out of the ordinary. Snipers had been placed at strategical points and the ships' engines would be fired up and ready to go at a moment's notice should the need arise.

Kronos thanked him for being so efficient in covering all the eventualities. Estimated time of arrival of the Kaytons was two hours. The captain said we could wait in his private quarters until then.

I asked Kronos if I could go for a short walk to take in my breathtaking surroundings. He did not mind so long as I didn't stray too far away from the ship. They didn't want to be sending out search parties to find me or, worse still, keep the Kaytons waiting after agreeing to his requests.

I was on my own, heading towards the tree line. All so idyllic and peaceful, you wouldn't think we were in the middle of a war zone in no man's land. It was such a beautiful place. I christened it New Canada. On reaching the tree line, I noticed some flowers of a deep red colour. They looked like a cross between a rose and an orchid and made me think of that famous quote, A thing of beauty is a joy forever. I was just about to lean over and take a closer look when I heard rustling in the long grass to the right of me, then a voice saying, "It's all right, Guardian John, I'm Solaran, just here to cover you during your meeting with the Kaytons in case they try anything untoward."

"Oh! You made me jump," I replied, surveying this camouflaged soldier lying in the long grass with his high-powered sniper rifle at the ready. "Thanks for your concern," I continued, "I will leave you to it, then."

I sheepishly retreated and made my entrance to the forest proper. Just a few yards in, I could see a group of butterflies coming my way. I came to a complete stop, remaining motionless and not wanting to divert them so that I could observe and appreciate them fully. They passed me by only a matter of inches, one actually landing on my shoulder, but only for a few brief moments before taking flight again so as not to get too far behind his compatriots. I thought it was a privilege that I was allowed to witness such sights in a far off distant place, but now it was back to the job in hand as I made my way back to the Solaran ship.

As I approached, I could see Kronos laughing and joking with members of the crew. He certainly knew how to interact with a crowd, unlike my inexperienced attempts earlier, back on Sontral. He really took an interest in each individual, listening to their concerns, making that all-important connection with each of them.

Once he had noticed me he came over. "Come on, John," he said I will introduce you to the crew. They really want to meet you."

"Do I have to?" I replied. "I don't know if I can cope with people's expectations of me any more."

Sighing, he said, "Please, for me, make the effort. Some of these men have been parted from their loved ones for months. Give them something to write home about; it's not every day they get to meet two Guardians on a far off world."

With those words of encouragement to buoy me up, I straightened my arched back as if to attention, put a smile on my face and strode over to the assembled members of the crew. I shook hands with every one of them, asking each one of them in turn where they were from and did they have family waiting for them back home? Very few were from Sontral itself, most being from what they called the outer territories of the Commonwealth. One guy told me there were three Suns in his planetary system, reminding me of that old TV advert that no one can eat three shredded wheat. After those exhausting though rewarding moments it was back to work for the crew while Kronos and I retired to the Captain's quarters on board ship for a well-earned short break. I felt so tired.

After about an hour and a half, the Captain notified us that a Kayton Battle Cruiser was about to arrive. Kronos and I were just emerging from the Solaran ship as it was about to land. What a big flying saucer, I thought, as it came to a stop, hovering momentarily a few yards above the ground as its four landing legs extended from the superstructure. The ship then descended the final few yards to land on terra firma, firing its engines down and everything returning to its pre-arrival calm.

I said, "How come it has taken them so long to get here if we are that close to the front lines?"

"They have come direct from Tyros," Kronos replied, "with some very important people on board. The head of their scientific corps, as well as the head of their security and intelligence services and, most importantly of all, three members of the Supreme Kayton Council will be present. Normally, Council members wouldn't even leave the Citadel, never mind Tyros, especially to visit an area so close to the front lines. That's how important your Guardianship is to them; you have no idea of the lengths they would go to in order to acquire Kultarn technology."

"Well, it's always nice to be wanted," I said. "I hope they will be satisfied with what they see."

At that moment a moveable ramp extended from the Kayton ship until it came to rest gently on the ground. When the ship's door opened, the first to appear were two columns of Drone soldiers. They came marching out, as if from Noah's ark, two by two and then forming up into two separate ranks, one either side of the ramp. It was just like Kronos had told me; they were mind-controlled, enslaved people with no emotions or feelings, just obeying the Kaytons' every order without question. I could not help but admire their smart black uniforms that could have been ironed and pressed especially for this occasion. All were armed with what I could only describe as laser rifles, which looked to be a very deadly piece of kit. The headgear reminded me of what the skiers had worn at the recent Winter Olympics, especially those with visors that came down just below their eyes and tinted so you could not see them.

Next to make to make their way down the ramp was a high ranking group of Kaytons. Actually, in appearance they looked no different to the Solaran people I had encountered over the last couple of days.

As they formed up at the bottom of the ramp, Kronos said. "You see the one on the left? That is Drakos, head of the Kaytons' Security and Intelligence Service. The smaller, middle-aged guy next to him is Wesker, the head of the Kaytons' Scientific Corps. He is the one who will be conducting the verification tests on your Guardianship."

"You mean Kev," I replied.

Kronos smiled. "I had forgotten you were back on good terms with him. Now John, be very careful what you say to him. Don't let him trick you; he is as slippery as they come."

"I will bear that in mind," I replied.

"Wesker and Drakos are both Solaran traitors," Kronos continued, "who went over to the Kaytons several years ago. If captured and returned to Sontral they would be tried for High Treason and hanged. Wesker worked in a senior position for Professor Zinnerman in the science directorate. As for Drakos, he was Commander Vadoran's second-in-command in S.I.S."

"Sound like a charming pair of characters," I replied, "but what I can't understand is why the Kaytons gave the pair of them such high ranking positions."

"That's very simple to explain. It was done to encourage more Solarans to go over to the Kaytons, especially with the vast amount of wealth they were offering every defector."

"Did it have the desired effect?"

"Not really. You can count the number of defections to the Kaytons in the low hundreds."

As we finished speaking I could hear a low humming sound coming from the top of the ramp. Next I noticed a round disc, hovering about five or six feet off the ground. A second, then a third disc appeared, all slowly making their way down the ramp. They must have been powered by some sort of anti-gravity device; certainly something beyond my comprehension.

Sitting on each disc in a depression in the middle was a very old man. Oh, they looked old and ugly. I think there is a lot to be said for living fast and dying young. I christened them the three stooges, Larry, Mo, and Curly.

As they came off the ramp a Kayton officer bellowed, "Present arms!"

The two extended lines of Drones duly obliged and all the assembled Kayton entourage simultaneously bowed their heads in obeisance.

The same officer then shouted, "Stand easy!"

The Drones duly lowered their weapons and, as dutiful as ever, the rest of the Kayton entourage raised their heads after acknowledging their masters.

"Those three are members of the Supreme Council, the ultimate decision-making body in the Kayton Empire," Kronos said.

I nodded. "I had gathered that. No spring chickens are they? Certainly look as though they have seen better days."

And there we all were, facing each other over no man's land, the good, the bad and the very ugly.

Drakos then shouted over, "How's tricks, Kronos? Long time no see."

"Forever wouldn't be long enough in your case," Kronos replied. "I bet you would sell your own mother for the right price."

"At least I'm on the winning side," Drakos remarked in a very sarcastic tone.

"Let's get on with it," Kronos retorted.

I could sense there was some very bad blood between the two of them, obviously from something that had happened in the past.

"Right, John," Kronos said, "walk over towards the Kayton lines. Wesker will meet you in the middle. He will verify your Guardianship then you make your way back to me and we will then be free to Transport ourselves back to Sontral."

"All right." As I ever so slowly made my way across no man's land, I felt like I was walking the plank, my feet becoming heavier with every step I took. Then, finally, I was in the middle, face to face with Wesker who had arrived there just before me, no doubt much keener than I was to proceed. He raised his hand to shake mine, which I refused.

"Guardian John," he began, "it's an honour to meet you. I am Wesker, head of the Kaytons Scientific Corps."

"Whiskers..." I replied.

"No, Wesker," he said."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you said Whiskers; that is what I feed my cat, Felix. I must be getting hard of hearing."

"That's quite all right, John," Wesker said. "I'm afraid age catches up with us all eventually. I am just going to take some readings to confirm your Guardianship; it won't take long."

He then scanned Kev with his hand-held device, which was very similar to what Chris had used on me back on Sontral.

"Nice place this, isn't it, John? Very peaceful. What's your home Planet like?"

"Nice try," I replied. "Do I look that green? Like I was born yesterday? You will have to do better than that if you want to get anything out of me."

"I was just making polite conversation, John. You shouldn't believe everything Kronos and the Solarans are telling you, spoon feeding you with their lies. The Kaytons only want peace and friendship with the Solarans, I can testify to that. As we speak, the Kaytons are trying to open peace negotiations with the Solarans with no pre-conditions and with everything on the table up for discussion, as a good will gesture. What more could you ask for, John? I know from my contacts on Sontral that many members of parliament and even some ministers in the Cabinet would like to open negotiations with the Kaytons. It is that nasty, uncompromising Prime Minister and that vicious, vindictive Commander Vadoran who block every genuine peace attempt. In so doing, they are prolonging the war and hence the suffering on both sides."

I pointed in the direction of the Drones. "So those men over there are not slaves, then?"

"They are nothing more than savages, John," Wesker replied, "pacified for the duration of the conflict. Once the war has been successfully concluded they will gradually be released back into civilisation into what the Kaytons call their Greater Galactic Prosperity Sphere, hopefully in partnership with the Solarans."

At last his readings were complete and he turned towards the Kayton lines, nodding to Drakos to confirm that Kev was the Guardianship and I was definitely the Guardian.

"Nice little yarn you have spun me," I replied, "but I wouldn't trust you or anything you have told me, any further than I could throw you. Can I go now? Some of us have homes to go to."

As I stared at him in an agitated and impatient manner, he turned towards me one last time, saying in a very soft, disarming voice, "John, If you come back with me right now the Kaytons will give you power and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. They will be good friends to you."

I stared him squarely in the eyes. "I can do without friends and I have had my fair share of unlimited power and wealth before and it did nothing but corrupt me, turning me into a nasty piece of work not even fit to lick my late parents' boots. So if it's all the same to you, I will decline your very generous offer."

"If you change your mind, John, you know where to find us."

"Don't hold your breath; you could have a long wait."

As we both parted company, making our way back to our respective parts of the line, Wesker looked at Drakos, shaking his head and saying, "No, he won't join us."

As for me, I was just glad it was all over as I made my way back to Kronos and the safety of the Solaran lines.

The Kaytons quickly decamped back into their ship, no doubt disappointed at not getting their own way. Firing up their engines, their craft hovered momentarily to retract the landing gear and then almost instantaneously they shot away into the distance on their long voyage back to Tyros.

Good riddance to bad rubbish, I thought.

"Well done," Kronos said. "That all went off without a hitch."

"Wesker asked me to join the Kaytons," I replied. "He offered me fabulous riches if I turned."

Kronos nodded. "I thought he would make you an offer. I can read the Kaytons like a book."

"If I had accepted," I replied, "would you have had me taken out by one of those snipers?"

Smiling and not answering me directly, he just said, "I knew you wouldn't."

That certainly made me think. Oh, it sent a shiver down my spine and made me wonder what the hell I had got myself mixed up in.

After thanking and saying goodbye to the crew, we Transported ourselves back to Sontral. Kronos wanted to Transport us both to the Prime Minister's residence to inform him and Commander Vadoran what had transpired. However, I insisted we Transport directly into my living quarters. He could speak to the Prime Minister and the Commander later. I wanted a private word with him on my own and he reluctantly agreed to my request.

On arrival back in my quarters, Kronos said, "What is on your mind, John? Something is certainly bothering you. Spit it out; let's have it."

"You're not telling me everything that is going on," I replied. "Wesker said the Kaytons have offered the Solarans peace talks with no pre-conditions and everything on the table up for discussion."

"Do you really believe that, John? It's nothing more than a ploy to split the Solarans from their alliance with the Hellertrons. Yes, they might come to an accommodation with the Solarans but there will be no such treatment for the Hellertrons. The Kaytons may treat Solaran soldiers and civilians who fall into their hands with reasonable propriety, but the same cannot be said of the Hellertrons they capture."

"What do you mean?"

"John, they put them to work in their war factories and farms... men, women and children, no distinctions made. There have also been reports of atrocities being committed against the Hellertron military and civilian population and while this behaviour is certainly not state sponsored, the Kayton authorities are definitely turning a blind eye to what is going on. That is everything laid bare on the table for everyone to see; you can take it or leave it, John. The choice is yours. Now if you will excuse me, I will make my report to the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran as to how the Guardianship verification progressed. Make sure you get a good night's sleep. Your mission training will start for real in the morning... be ready."

We bade each other goodnight and I was left to my own devices for the remainder of the evening. As I lay in bed that night, I reflected on the day's hectic events and contemplated what was in store for me tomorrow. I was determined to be a model pupil – teacher's pet. Mind you, when I was at school all those years ago I hadn't always been so. No way did I like doing sports, especially when it was cold, wet and windy in the middle of winter. In fact, I resorted to writing my own sick notes that went something like this:

Dear Teacher, please excuse John from sports because he has a bad cold.

I became very proficient at forging my mother's signature. I remember when we broke up for the summer holidays in late July, we received our school reports. In the column for sports I got a double E for effort and attainment; the worst marks imaginable. Where it said teacher's comments he had written, 'John has had every illness it is possible to live with as an excuse.' He actually said to me once, 'If you were a horse I would have you shot.' I never forgave Mister Linton for that. I hope he had a miserable retirement.

Ten

It had been early to bed and early to rise for me as I sat in the armchair first thing in the morning, waiting for my betters to arrive. On the appointed hour, Kronos and Commander Vadoran duly arrived, but on this occasion they had somebody with them I had not set eyes on before.

A slim, dark-haired figure of a woman wearing military fatigues approached me slowly and calmly.

"John, this is Freema," Kronos said.

Extending her hand to shake mine, she said, "It's a pleasure and an honour to meet you, Guardian John."

"I can assure you, Freema," I replied, shaking her hand, "the pleasure is all mine."

"Now, John," Kronos said, "Freema trains our agents in the use of firearms and explosives, just the sort of skills you will need to master. We thought she would be the ideal person to train you for the mission. She has been given the highest security clearance, having been briefed in full on the Majestic project. You and Freema now join the exclusive little group of people who now make up the Majestic Nine. Now I think the best thing Commander Vadoran and I can do is to leave you and Freema to get on with the job in hand. We will both pay you a visit in a couple of days' time to see how you are progressing."

We all then bade our farewells, Kronos and Commander Vadoran turning left after leaving my quarters to go back to the underground railway platform. Freema and I took a right in a direction I had not gone before. We continued down what seemed an even longer corridor, obviously making our way to our training area.

"John, thanks for taking the trouble yesterday to go out and meet the Solaran people," Freema said. "I know they really appreciated what you did. It is all over our news networks."

"I try my best," I replied, "but I don't think I warrant all this attention."

"People need something to cling on to," Freema said. "Having both Guardians on our side is a real morale booster; we have had nothing but bad news since the Hellertrons collapsed."

"Let's hope things will change for the better soon, then," I replied.

Freema asked me how my meeting had gone with the Kaytons yesterday.

"Pretty well. I think they are the biggest tyrants since Adolf Hitler on my home planet—"

Freema stopped us both dead in our tracks, putting her right index finger over my lips. In a very agitated voice, she said, "Never ever make any reference to your home planet again, John. If the Kaytons ever found out its location you could be sentencing all its inhabitants to certain death. That is what happened to Kronos's home planet."

"By the same mistake I just made?"

"No. Drakos betrayed him when he defected to the Kaytons, who immediately sent a battle squadron of ships deep behind Solaran lines."

"Was everybody lost?"

"There were no survivors, John. Ten billion people killed, including Kronos's wife and children. We intercepted and destroyed all the Kayton ships before they reached the safety of the Kayton lines. That was small comfort though for the national disgrace Drakos caused. Through his actions, the post of Deputy of S.I.S was abolished forever. Only Kronos, the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran know the location of your home planet, John. Keep it that way for your people's sake."

I nodded in acceptance as we both made our way to our final destination, but this time in complete silence.

On reaching the security doors, Freema used her pass to gain entry and we both walked in.

"Lights on," Freema said. As the whole room lit up, the doors closed behind us, reminding me of a large aircraft hangar because of the arched ceiling.

"Well, this is it, John. Your training ground for the next three working days. To the right is a firing range for weapons training. To your left is a mockup of the Drone Command Bunker Control Room, all specifications supplied by Adema, our deep cover agent on Tyros."

"Do you know Adema personally?" I asked.

Freema nodded. "Yes, but I haven't seen him for over three years. Since he embedded himself on Tyros he has had access to the Citadel for the last six months on various work details. To this day he remains our one and only operative on Tyros. He is confident he can get you and Kronos into the Drone Command Bunker on his work detail undetected. If all goes according to plan you should not get into a fire fight but you will have to clear two check points, one to gain entry to the Citadel and the second to gain access to the Drone command bunker itself. Once you have made your way to the control room proper, the technicians must be killed to stop them making emergency repairs. Hopefully any subsequent repair teams will arrive far too late. Next, the four charges will have to be placed very precisely and then, finally, you will need to do as much damage to the control panels as possible with your laser rifle. All this should sever the connection to the control beacon which lies on top of the Citadel. The rebellion should then begin bringing their whole empire down by crashing in on itself."

"What is the opposition like in the Citadel itself?" I asked. "Just old men and boys, with the fit young men fighting on the various battle fronts?"

"I'm afraid not, John. You will be up against elements of the first strike division. It is three times the strength of a normal division. One third of it is always stationed on Tyros to protect the supreme Kayton Council as well as all their command and control assets in the Citadel. The division itself is mostly made up of Vogarans, turned into Drones from the conquered planet of Tau Seti. Of all the individual planets the Kaytons have subdued, Tau Seti gave them the hardest time... really vicious warriors. Even now, Tau Seti has the strongest resistance movement of any occupied planet. We reckon the Kaytons are having to station twice as many troops as normal just to keep the situation under control."

"Do you supply them?"

"Yes," Freema replied. "S.I.S supplies the resistance movements on all occupied planets with weapons and advisors. We use fast gun-running ships to get in and out as quickly as possible. I think, along with bomb disposal, they are the two most dangerous jobs in the Solaran armed forces. Another point that I think is worth mentioning is that all the governments from the occupied planets are operating in exile on Sontral or Rueatarn. But not so the government of Tau Seti; they are the only ones that are still on their home planet, directing their resistance movement on the spot. Such is their determination and devotion. They are also the only occupied planet to have succeeded in assassinating their Kayton Governor, although in retaliation terrible reprisals were inflicted on the civilian population. I'm afraid I have to tell you, John, the Drones you will be facing in the Citadel are the best of their best. That is why it is imperative you do not get into a fire fight with them."

"You certainly know how to cheer a guy up," I replied. As I digested the shocking information Freema had just told me I thought to myself, things just get worse and worse. How on earth am I going to extricate myself from this intolerable situation I now find myself in?

"To start with," Freema said, "I will need to know what military training you have undergone so that I know what level to start you at."

"Well that is simple. None whatsoever. My father was in the army for six years but my country abolished compulsory military service over fifty years ago." Now to describe the look on Freema's face as shocked would be an understatement.

"If you find somebody else, though, I will certainly help you train them," I continued, trying to make light of the embarrassing situation I now found myself in.

"It is no joking matter, John," Freema retorted. "I thought you would have at least had some basic military training." She shook her head in disbelief. "We had better start on the firing range," she continued."

On our arrival at the range, Freema picked up a weapon. "Now, John, look closely. This is the Kaytons' latest mark three pulse jet laser rifle, very light weight, very reliable and very deadly. This is what you and Kronos will be armed with on Tyros. Pay attention to my three cardinal rules; look, listen and learn. This switch is up for single shot, down for rapid fire. That is all you have to remember. To acquire a target, just align the eye piece to the end of the barrel tip, pick your target and squeeze don't pull the trigger, got it?"

"Yes, I think so." I laid down on my stomach, then on Freema's command I started taking pot shots at the targets. After a few minutes I started to at least hit the outer part of the target and for me, that was an achievement. Then Freema knelt down beside me, trying to align me better with the target.

"Get a firmer grip," she said, "the barrel is wobbling too much."

"I know how it feels," I replied. I persevered but not with much improvement.

"You have got to do better than this," Freema said. If you can't even hit a stationary target, how on earth are you going to be able to hit a moving one?"

I sighed despondently. "At least I'm trying; cut me some slack."

The morning wore on but the hits on target only improved marginally. I was glad when we had a tea break. At least I got a rest from the constant nagging; it was worse than being married. As we made our way to the table I crept up behind her, touching her hair with my right hand.

"Oh, what nice curly hair you have, Freema," I murmured.

The next thing I knew was, with lightning speed, she grabbed my right arm and then threw my whole body over her shoulder.

As I landed on the deck Freema, with a big smile on her face, said, "Consider this your first lesson in self-defence."

"You cheeky little minx," I replied. "I've heard of falling for someone but this is ridiculous... oh, my bad back is killing me. I don't think I like your tone with me today, Freema." I rose to my feet, joining her at the table to lick my wounded pride.

"I would rather you didn't like me," she replied, "and live to tell the tale rather than like me and come back in a body bag."

She certainly gave me something to think about while we devoured our tea and sandwiches but, alas, break time was over all too quickly.

"Back to work now, John," Freema said. "We will try you with a moving target."

As we made our way over to the firing range I watched as she worked on the control panel, resulting in holographic silver-coloured human figures appearing and moving randomly in different directions.

"Very impressive," I said. "How does it work?"

"You see the cameras on the ceiling? They are projecting the image you see on the ground and this dial controls their speed, which is on slow at the moment for your benefit. Now we will have you in the standing firing position."

She helped me assume the correct firing position, rifle butt tight into my shoulder, right hand holding the appropriate part of the gun barrel.

"Off you go, John. Aim just ahead of your target and then squeeze the trigger."

"Okay," I replied as I tried in vain to hit what I called those dancing silver men. It was as if they were laughing at me, mocking me en masse.

"Come on, John. Come on, you've got to do better than this."

"I nearly hit the one on the left," I replied, still feverishly trying to hit at least one of those elusive sly little devils.

"No good, John. No good!" Freema exclaimed.

My patience finally snapped and I lowered my rifle. "I've had enough; let's see you do any better!"

She angrily grabbed the rifle, turning her back on the targets to compose herself after our harsh exchange of words, telling me to count to three before she made her move. I was standing next to the control panel and I noticed the dial that regulated the speed of the targets. With a cheeky grin on my face because I was a bad boy, I turned the dial to maximum so that all the targets were moving as fast as whippets. Got you, I thought.

"One, two, three..."

With lightning speed, she turned on the targets, firing and hitting each one in quick succession. I could only look on, open-mouthed in amazement at her proficiency. Now she was the one with a big smile on her face as she threw the rifle back towards me.

As I grabbed it, she said, "Now it's your turn. Let's see you do a lot better; I want to see a big improvement before we finish today."

"Yes, Freema, love." What else could I do but submit to the inevitable? Just like my cat, Felix, head down, tail between his legs, I was the dead end kid of Sontral.

At least she showed me leniency by turning the speed of the holograms back to their previously slow speed for my benefit. After that it was back to work for me, feverishly firing and eventually, after much effort, getting some shots on target. What a nice feeling it was to get the better of at least a few of those slippery silver shadows.

"Hit! Hit! Hit! Better, John; you're finally getting the hang of it."

As I carried on firing, I must have been acquiring enough of the targets to get on the good side of her because after a while she said, "Have a break, John. I think you have deserved it."

As I sat down I saw Freema pick up a small suitcase that was situated next to the holographic control panel. I eagerly eyed it up, wondering what it contained.

After joining me, she opened the suitcase. "I know you have been dying to know what is in the case." She took out five small items, placing them on the table. Four of them were the same size, like small building bricks. The fifth was a smaller, square shape. She picked up one of the brick shapes.

"This is Krotonium, John. The Kaytons' most powerful plastic explosive and what you will be using on Tyros, on the power rely system in the control room of the Drone command bunker. I cannot stress enough the importance of placing the charges correctly for maximum effect to sever the signal to the transmitting beacon which is located on top of the Citadel."

"Why don't you target the beacon instead?" I asked. "It must be less well protected than the control room which is situated deep within the bunker complex."

"Good question, John. Nice to see you using your initiative. The problem is there are four smaller beacons positioned around the Citadel. They would automatically kick in if the main beacon was taken out. Normally the subsidiary ones are only used if the main beacon is off line during maintenance. Now I would like you to handle the explosives to get used to their size and weight. Don't worry, I've disarmed them. I don't trust you with live ordnance yet."

I gave them a good once over. "They are a lot lighter than I expected."

"You will see, Freema said, "that one side is darker than the others. This is the magnetised side which you place on the targets – in this case, the four power relay points in the control room.

"That's a good idea," I replied. "Just remember dark side up."

Then she picked up what I called the small box. "And finally, this is the detonator. Easy to use, but still treat it with respect. It's disarmed at the moment. Just press the one and only switch down to arm; a small round plunger will then automatically pop out for about an inch. Press the plunger in and then release; that will detonate the explosives. Got all that, John?"

"Yes, Freema, love."

She then handed me the detonator to practice the sequence a few times, which I thought was easy enough. It made a change to get a nice easy job I could sail through with ease. But of course it didn't last; things got harder when she put a blindfold over my eyes to hopefully make it second nature for me as I accomplished the same task in the dark. She must have had her hands on the table because my hands encountered hers, so just to break the monotony I fondled her hands just for a laugh. Mind you, she didn't take it that way and snapped at me.

"John! It is not a game. If you make one mistake on Tyros you will not only get yourself killed but you'll also end up getting Kronos and Adema killed in the process."

Really fed up, I took the blindfold off and threw it on the floor as hard as I could.

Freema was vigorously shaking her head with disapproval.

"Do you think I don't know that?" I asked. "I've got to have some sort of release every now and then. I sometimes feel as though I'm approaching total collapse, crushed under the massive weight of worry and expectation on my shoulders and people feeding off me for their own ends. I've had enough. I feel as though I am already being measured up for my coffin with certain death waiting for me on Tyros. I must have been a fool for agreeing to all this in the first place."

Freema gave me a pitiful look. "The Solaran people are so proud of you, John, so grateful you joined us in our fight against the Kaytons, all hoping against hope for the Kultarn prophesy to come true. All I'm trying to do is get you to a standard where all the preparation and training will become second nature to you so that you will do all your tasks instinctively on Tyros and in so doing, return safely." She smiled. "I tell you what, let's just do a few more minutes with the blindfold on, then we will call it a day until tomorrow."

Having calmed down, I acquiesced to her request and the rest of the session passed off without incident.

"Well done, John. That was not so bad, was it? Let's leave it there for today. We can pick up where we left off, tomorrow."

"I won't disagree with that sentiment," I replied."

As we both stood up, Freema placed the explosives back in the small suitcase, leaving them on the table ready for the next day's session. After turning all the machinery off, we left what I had christened the Sweat Shop as Freema said, "Lights off" and then locked the security doors with her pass. We then made the long walk back to my quarters in almost total silence, both of us having a lot to think about.

"Goodnight, John. Have a good night's rest. I will report today's progress to Commander Vadoran before I retire myself. See you bright and early in the morning."

"Goodnight, Miss," I replied. As I retired to my room I remembered when I was on a course at Best on Roundhay Road in Leeds. There was a guy called Jonathan Crumby who always called the tutor, Tammy, 'Miss.' To get out of doing coursework he did not like, he would come up with excuses like, "Miss, I have heard they are looking for labourers at Thacker's on Roundhay Road. Can I go and enquire, Miss?"

Tammy always replied, "All right, Jonathan, but you must bring written evidence back to prove you have been, remember." She once said to me, "Oh I hate that lad. He's horrible. I will be glad when he has finished the course. I never want to see him again as long as I live." But here lies the very cautionary tale of Jonathan Crumby... he was born on Monday, christened on Tuesday, married on Wednesday, but died on Thursday – she must have been a bad one – and on Friday he came back to haunt all those people he didn't like, so be very careful what you wish for, Tammy. It might one day come back to haunt you.

Anyway, I was now on my own with no one to nag me or order me about. I felt like I was back at school with Freema reporting me to the headmaster, Commander Vadoran. I bet I was going to get a double E for effort and attainment. I couldn't even write my own sick notes now... Dear Freema, please excuse John from mission training as he does not feel well... no, she would never fall for it, even with my mother's forged signature to back me up. It seemed I was going to have to dance to Freema's tune at least for the foreseeable future, all a far cry from when I was back on Earth, pulling bank jobs to pay for my extravagant lifestyle. Now look at me, living like a pauper. I supposed I was being paid back for my past sins.

Eleven

Anyway, after a bite to eat I made myself comfortable in the armchair and watched the news on television. I'm afraid it was all bad though, since the Hellertrons had collapsed in what the newscaster called the Battle of Koresh. From what I could make out, it was like the battle of Cannae but fought out in space by the two opposing battle fleets. The Kaytons sucked the Hellertron fleet in and then surrounded them from the flanks. Some Hellertron ships managed to escape but the vast majority were destroyed or captured. The Hellertron battle fleet was finished as an effective fighting force, now being reduced to a mere auxiliary force. Apparently, billions of Hellertron civilians were fleeing the advancing Kaytons. They needed no encouragement, being propelled by sheer terror. They were all making their way to Rueatarn and the surrounding systems along with the Hellertron military and Solaran reinforcements to make a final stand. Very ugly scenes were reported at the shuttle and Transport evacuation points as people were fighting to get on board a ship. Order was only restored when the Hellertron military police arrived. In some cases they had to fire over the heads of the civilians. The newscaster also mentioned that the Prime Minister was facing a vote of no confidence in Parliament in a couple of days' time. Another case of my not being properly informed; if he lost the vote the government would collapse, causing a general election.

I'm afraid enough was enough and I started flipping the channels until I found their equivalent of cartoons. Well I had always found them funny when I was a youngster. I remember when I was very young, my mother used to take me to watch the cartoons at the cinema once a week. During the school holidays I would watch the full length animated feature films that did the rounds at the cinema. My favourite was the 1959 full length feature, Sleeping Beauty. The end scene always stuck in my mind where Prince Philip was fighting his way through the overgrown forest. Then he had to take on the wrath of the witch who then turned into a dragon. He only had his three little fairies for help, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather. They put a spell on Prince Philip's sword, chanting: 'Sword of justice, sword of good, strike home hard and strike home good.' Prince Philip then took aim, throwing his sword into the dragon's heart, killing it and by so doing, winning the day.

At the time, the film itself lost money. I think it too closely resembled the story line of the first full length animated feature film released in 1937, Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. Also, by the late nineteen-fifties they were becoming very expensive to make. Each individual frame had to be hand-painted which was very labour intensive. Sleeping Beauty was the last to be made that way. The next full length animated feature, 101 Dalmatians, released in 1961, used a new, more automated process, which enabled the film to make a profit, so setting the standard for all future releases. The actress who plays Carla, the factory owner in Coronation Street, reminds me of Cruella de Vil in 101 Dalmatians, even the voice sounds like her. I will never forget the scene when she grabs the child's teddy bear and says, 'You will never see Teddy again.' Well, you have to laugh, don't you? It was such a terrible shock when Mister Walt Disney passed away on December 15th 1966, ten days after his 65th birthday. I'm sure everyone's thoughts were with his wife, Lillian, and daughters, Diane and Sharon, for their sad loss. Special thanks must also be given to his brother, Mister Roy Disney, who was seven years older than Walt, but by his tireless efforts over the years, he kept the business afloat during the many difficult financial times and in so doing, ensured a lasting legacy. He carried on his brother's good work, culminating in the opening ceremony of Walt Disney World in Florida in October 1971. Sadly, he passed away that December but, as with his brother five years earlier, I'm sure everyone's thoughts were with his wife, Edna, and son, Roy junior. If I had been privileged enough to meet them both individually, I would have said to them, 'Thank you, Messrs. Disney... thank you for bringing so much happiness to the world and enriching so many people's lives.'

I must have fallen asleep in the armchair with the television still on as there was a loud knock on the door which woke me up.

"All right!" I shouted. "I'm coming. You're making enough noise to wake the dead, I can't get a minute's peace."

On opening the door, guess who was standing there... yes it was Freema, dressed in her civilian night out clothes and what a stunner she looked. A real sight for sore eyes.

"Good evening, Freema, love," I said. "I didn't recognise you with your clothes on. What can I do for you on this pleasant evening?"

After giving me a somewhat surprised look for the comment I had just made, she replied, "Hi, John. Would you like to come to the officers' club for a couple of hours to relax and unwind, take your mind off things?"

"I don't know about that," I said, inviting Freema into my quarters. "I'm tired of people hounding me."

"It's alright, John. I have instructed everyone not to approach you."

"Okay, you have talked me into it." Well, how could I refuse such an offer from someone so good looking?

After a quick shower and change, we were on our way, taking the underground railway system and arriving at the officers' club within half an hour of our departure. Freema was true to her word; no one spoke or approached us as we walked in and took a vacant table. Mind you, I would not have wanted to get on the wrong side of her.

I sat down while Freema went over to the bar to get some drinks. As she placed her order with the bartender, a very drunken looking guy who must have known her, said, "Oh, it's Freema... our little Freema. Too good for the likes of us since you became Vadoran's golden girl."

"I think you have had enough to drink, Drexler," Freema replied. "I'm surprised you have any money left to drown your sorrows with, considering how much you spend in the casinos. Go home while you can still walk."

"Even got the plum job looking after the Guardian," Drexler continued, "but what exactly do you have to do for him to keep him happy?"

Well, that was a comment too far. As he chuckled to himself, Freema grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with both hands and very quickly frogmarched him off the premises to the sound of loud cheers from all the other patrons in the bar. Very aggressively, she pushed him face first on to the floor and as he landed, he was sick.

"You filthy pig, you're a disgrace to the uniform!" She snapped. Two other guys offered to take him home, but Freema said, "No, leave him in the gutter where he belongs." As she strode back into the bar everybody, including me, was clapping. Freema, straight-faced, just collected our drinks from the bartender, who said they were on the house. Then, after all that excitement, she finally joined me for that so-called quiet drink we were meant to share together.

Her eyes were still bulging with rage, so as soon as she sat down I smiled and said, "Oh, Freema, Freema, with her big brown eyes, piercing the night like shards of light; as wise as an owl, as quick as a deer, she works me so hard I live in fear. Now she tells me all this is for my own good, to keep me alive so think on, John, be good."

She smiled. "Silly boy."

"Is it always as rowdy as this?" I asked.

"No, they are mostly a good bunch. It's just the same as everywhere else, though, you will always get the odd bad apple like Drexler who will spoil things."

Anyway, with the trauma past and the ice broken, we had a more conventional time for the rest of the evening. We laughed and joked just like ordinary people. I almost forgot there was a war on. Freema told me she had one brother who was serving on a battle cruiser in the thick of the fighting on the Naridian front. She hadn't seen him for over a year. I suppose it was the same for countless numbers of families who were parted from loved ones indefinitely because of the war. It was such a good feeling to be able to relax and have fun just like any normal people would, especially with such a good looker as Freema. How I longed for those days to return for good. But alas, the evening was over all too quickly and it was time to leave and Freema escorted me back to my quarters.

Just before we parted, she said, "Now don't be mad, John. The Prime Minister has arranged a gala in your honour tomorrow evening at the theatre. At the end of the night's performance a choir will sing the only Kultarn song that has ever been found intact, which we have adopted as our national anthem."

"Oh. I suppose if the Solaran people are going to that much trouble for me, the least I can do is make an effort, then."

With that we bade each other good night and it was straight to bed for me to recharge my batteries for tomorrow. At least I knew what to expect now.

Twelve

After rising early I was ready by the time Freema arrived and we made our way to the training complex. She turned all the equipment on, grabbed a rucksack and packed it with the explosives and detonator, fastened the straps on the rucksack and then fitted it across her back.

"Now, John," said Freema, "let's try a new task on your second day." We walked over to the mockup of the control panels of the command bunker.

"You will see," Freema continued, "that I've put numbers on where the four charges must be placed to sever the signal to the transmitting beacon. Memorise it well and memorise it quickly. After a few practice sessions I will take the numbers off. I will go first to give you some idea of what I am expecting and then it will be down to you."

We then grabbed our laser rifles and made our way over to the firing range. I switched on the holographic target system and those dancing, shiny, slippery, silver men as I had christened them, came to life. Freema turned her back on the targets and then after a count of three, she turned around, firing and hitting each hologram first time. They might be laughing at me, but Freema was taking no prisoners. As I said, the night before, she was as fast as a deer.

Next she ran over to one of the two main support columns, laid her rifle against it and then ran over to the control panels. She took off the rucksack, unfastening it but keeping hold of it with her left hand while she used her right to place the four charges in the designated spots. She then dashed back behind the supporting column, taking out the detonator and setting off the charges. Picking up her rifle, she then stepped out facing the control panels and sprayed them with intense fire.

"Now, John," Freema said, "you can see what is expected so let's see how you do. Just work at your own pace to start with."

As she reduced the speed of the holographic targets for my benefit, I turned my back and counted to three and then I was off. Or would you call it a spluttering start? Well, it was more like the Keystone Cops or that public information film of the nineteen seventies... do you remember Reginald Molehusband, who was trying to park his car in the correct manner. Like me, he made a right pig's ear of the whole operation. As it said on the advert at the time, what he managed to miss at the front he more than made up for at the back. If it wasn't the holograms I missed, it was the mistakes I managed to make with the explosives by dropping them on the floor or tripping myself up and landing head first on the floor. And what did Freema make of this comic opera? Well, at least she wasn't shouting at me. She just had her hand over her eyes, intermittingly shaking her head in disbelief.

After a few failed attempts she said, "Come on, John, let's have a break."

"Oh, thank goodness for that," I replied with a gasp of utter relief as we both sat down to have a drink and a bite to eat before I regrouped for the next instalment of my never-ending ordeal. I wasn't looking forward to that.

"Ready to try again, John?" Freema asked.

"All right," I replied, hesitantly.

She reached over with both her hands to clasp both of my hands. "John, listen. Control your thoughts and by controlling your thoughts you can control your actions. Concentrate on what you are doing; not on what other people are doing."

I smiled. "I will try." Once again, as my mother would say, I was off like the clappers, in the thick of it, giving as good as I got and after a few attempts and taking on board what Freema had said, like Reginald Molehusband, I actually got it right. I was hitting every holographic target first time, then placing and detonating the charges as required. After a while, Freema took the numbers off the detonation points. She also very slowly started to increase the speed of the holograms as well as timing me with a stop watch. My completion time slowly improved as the day wore on and then, after what seemed an eternity, Freema said, "Excellent, John. Let's have a well-earned break."

"I will second that," I replied and with a smile and great satisfaction on my part, we took a well-earned break, this time with only positives to talk about.

Meanwhile, Chris and Alana were busy working in their laboratory, preparing for the attempt to break the Transdamping barrier, when who should pay them a visit? Yes, it was their boss, Professor Zinnerman head of the scientific directorate and chief scientific advisor to the Prime Minister.

"Good afternoon, Chris, Alana, "the Professor said. "I thought I would pay you both a visit to see how you are both progressing."

"Good timing, Professor," Chris replied. "We were just going to have a cup of tea and a biscuit. Can we get you one?"

"Yes please... milk and two sugars."

After Alana had brought the tea and biscuits she carried on with her work, leaving the Professor and Chris to talk shop.

"I think Alana is sweet on you, Chris," the Professor said as they enjoyed their tea and biscuits. "Don't leave it too long to ask her out; she won't wait for ever."

"I think you have an over-active imagination, Professor," Chris replied.

"Now, down to business, Chris," the Professor said. "Will you be on schedule to make the attempt at breaking the Transdamping barrier tomorrow evening as planned?"

"We are working right at the limits of our knowledge, Professor, but yes, we will be ready to make the attempt."

"Good. I am so proud; I should be working for you and not the other way round. You are the son I never had."

"Thank you, Professor. That means such a lot to me. I have always regarded you as my mentor since you plucked me out of obscurity to work on this project. I will try my best not to let you down. But I will be honest with you, Professor, it has been playing on my conscience. If I succeed, I will be sending Kronos and John on a one way trip. They will not be able to Transport themselves off Tyros until the Transdamping barrier has been deactivated I could be sending them to their deaths."

"No, I won't hear such talk," the Professor said firmly. "You are doing your duty, the same as everyone else is doing theirs. The Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran would not even contemplate sending them unless they thought there was a good chance of getting them back safely."

"I hope you are right, Professor."

"Now, Chris," the Professor said, moving on, "I am privy to some very sensitive information. I have been speaking with the Minister for War Production. He tells me that as far as armaments are concerned, the war can go on for another six to eight months. After that, everything will start to run out because we have abandoned our rich mineral producing systems to shorten the front line and create reserves of troops to help the Hellertrons, who are in a desperate position themselves. Fuel will be the first thing to run out as the synthetic fuel plants are starved of the raw materials they need to maintain production."

"I didn't know things were that bad," Chris replied. "I will be ready tomorrow evening come what may; no looking back, no self-doubt. I will just be focusing like a laser on the job at hand. You can count on me, Professor."

"Good man. I know you will do your duty the same as everyone else in the Solaran Commonwealth and Hellertron Empire. Now, I think I have taken up enough of your time already so I will leave you in peace to make your final preparations. I will see you again tomorrow evening as planned."

At the training facility, Freema and I were just starting to wind down for the day, when who should come walking in just as we were about to lock up... yes, you guessed, it was Commander Vadoran and Kronos.

"Oh look, it's Kronos and the grim reaper," I said very sarcastically.

"Did you say something, John?" the Commander asked, his usual stony expression fully visible for us all to see.

"I said good afternoon, Commander Vadoran."

"Anyone would think you are not pleased to see us, John," the Commander replied.

I said, "It is the highlight of my day, you coming to visit us both. In fact I knew it was you because I could see the mice throwing themselves onto the traps when you arrived. Kronos told me once he saw four guys beating you up. I said, did you help? He said no, I thought four guys would be enough to do a good job on him."

By now, Freema and Kronos were struggling to stop themselves bursting out laughing.

The Commander started to give a slow hand clap. "Ah, you are missing your vocation, John. You should be a comedian on Tyros; the Kaytons would literally all die of laughing. The war would be won and we could all go home to lead normal lives again, secure in the knowledge that you had brought them down single-handedly and everyone would be eternally grateful to you. But alas, it is actions, not words that will ultimately produce results. With that in mind, I would like to have a private word with you. Freema, please excuse us. Kronos and I will lock up."

"Okay," Freema said. "I will meet you in your quarters in three hours' time to accompany you to the theatre, John."

"Thank you. I will be ready."

"How are things progressing, John?" Commander Vadoran asked, "after two full days of training?"

"Well, thanks to Freema I am a lot more proficient now than I was before. In fact I have been a model pupil. Teacher's pet... you ask her, I'm sure she will back me up."

"Maybe you are getting a bit too close to each other," the Commander suggested, "going on nights out together, brawling in the bar with Drexler from Military Intelligence. I have already received a complaint about that from his superior."

"We only went out the once. I needed to unwind and forget my worries. You wouldn't deny me that little bit of pleasure, would you? Anyway, that guy was well out of order. He got what was coming to him and I don't think anybody in that bar would disagree."

"Anyway, John," Kronos said, "we are here to discuss the forthcoming mission, not personal matters."

"I am all ears," I replied.

"We have to inform you," the Commander said, "that the Solaran rear guard in Earth's sector has now disengaged. This does not affect the overall timetable of the forthcoming operation; we still go ahead as planned tomorrow evening, making the assault on the command bunker the following morning. We estimate that will be a full twenty-four hours before the Kayton battle squadron reaches Earth."

"Not much room for manoeuvre though, is there?" I replied. What happens if Chris is not ready or Adema cannot get us into the Bunker complex as planned? I do wonder about the wisdom of the whole enterprise sometimes."

"Well, John," the Commander retorted, "you can always go over to the Kaytons. I'm sure they would welcome you with open arms. You might even get a special dispensation for Earth to be spared so you could then go back home, pulling bank jobs to finance your extravagant life style once again."

I gave Kronos a dirty look. "Oh, has someone been telling tales behind my back?"

Kronos said, "The Commander beat the information out of me."

"Now that I can believe," I replied as we both started to smile.

"Now John," Kronos said, "I hope you are going to be on your best behaviour tonight for the gala performance at the theatre. The Prime Minister has arranged it especially for you; we don't want a repetition of what happened with the Hellertron ambassador."

"You can count on me. I will be on my best behavior; I am a reformed character now." I gave them both a cheeky grin with my fingers crossed behind my back.

"The Prime Minister has gone to a lot of trouble to make you welcome," Kronos said, "considering the weight of worry he has to bear. He has an important cabinet meeting in about one hour's time and then he has to face a vote of no confidence in parliament tomorrow. If he loses the vote the government will collapse, causing a general election which the opposition would probably win. They, in turn, would probably abandon the Hellertrons and seek to make a separate peace with the Kaytons. So you cannot say we are not keeping you properly informed about current events, as you have complained about before."

"Thanks for keeping me in the loop," I replied. "I appreciate that. I think it is time I made tracks now to get ready for tonight. I will make my own way back to my quarters. See you both at the theatre tonight." I bade them both farewell, leaving them to examine the training videos of me practicing the assault on the command bunker.

As a parting shot, Commander Vadoran shouted, "Oh and by the way, John, it would take more than four guys to bring me down."

On the long walk back to my quarters I thought to myself, the Kaytons might die of laughing if I was on Tyros. But if Commander Vadoran was there they would all die of boredom. Somehow I did not think I would be on the Commander's Christmas card list... mind you, the feeling was mutual. I could just imagine Commander Vadoran saying to Kronos, "Are you seriously telling me the new Guardian is robbing banks with his Guardianship so that he can live the high life on the proceeds?"

On arriving back at my quarters I showered, changed and had a bite to eat. I still had plenty of time left before Freema was due to pick me up so I relaxed in the armchair. I was looking at my travel belt, or Guardianship, as it should correctly be called. On closer examination I noticed an inscription written on it.

"Kev," I said, "what does this inscription mean?"

"Hello, John," Kev replied. "The writing is an old Kultarn war cry, Ishtar Racnar Tacknar Heyah."

"Seeing that we are talking about the Kultarn language, do you know the words to the ancient Kultarn song the Solarans have adopted as their national anthem?" I asked. "If so, can you teach me the words in the next couple of hours before Freema comes to pick me up? I think it would be a mark of respect if I sang it along with the Solaran people at the end of tonight's gala performance the Prime Minister has laid on for me."

"Yes, John, I do know the words and I would be glad to teach you."

And so we were on our way. It was a good job Kev was patient; it wasn't easy learning the words to a song, especially in a foreign language. But we got there in the end and at least time passes quicker when you are keeping yourself busy. It took a lot of concentration, though, I must say.

The last few minutes before Freema was expected to arrive, I was just letting my mind wander. Thinking about the Majestic project and the Majestic Nine, it suddenly came to me that when I was a youngster my mother used to go to the Majestic bingo hall on Leeds City Square. During the summer holidays, if she played the afternoon session, I would go and meet her when she came out and then, if I was lucky, she would take me to the cinema. How I miss those days... I hope the name connection turns out to be a good omen. Then there was a knock on the door. I was quick to answer and there she was, as stunning as ever.

"Hi, John," Freema said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. You look nice. I will have to see you more often on your days off."

"Thanks, you scrub up pretty well yourself. Shall we make tracks?"

"Yes, good idea," I agreed, and with that we were both on our way to the theatre to enjoy a well-deserved night out, courtesy of the Prime Minister and the Solaran people.

Thirteen

Earlier, at the Prime Minister's residence, a very important cabinet meeting had been held prior to the vote of no confidence that was due to take place in Parliament the following day. Kronos and Commander Vadoran were also present at the meeting. As everyone took their seats in the cabinet room, the Prime Minister opened the proceedings.

"Thank you all for attending at short notice. I think the gravity of the situation demanded it. I know the overall situation is critical but it is not desperate. I have been in discussions with the Hellertron ambassador who, after consultations with his government and high command, has agreed to my requests. That is, every Hellertron division will be paired with one Solaran division and every Hellertron ship will be paired with one Solaran ship. They would come under our operational command but the Hellertrons would retain the highest political control. By corseting our forces together in this way we should be able to avoid a repetition of what occurred recently."

"Mister Prime Minister," the Foreign Secretary interjected, "we don't mind Kronos being here as an observer, indeed we welcome him, but we object to Commander Vadoran being present. He has been granted tremendous powers but he is unelected and is not answerable to Parliament or the cabinet, only to you. He has been granted billions of pounds for secret weapons research but so far we have seen no tangible results. It just seems to disappear into a bottomless black hole, never to be seen again."

"I am sorry you and other members of the cabinet feel that way," the Prime Minister replied, "but as long as I am Prime Minister, the Commander stays. I granted him these exceptional powers due to the seriousness of the overall situation and he has my full confidence. Now, moving on, Mister Cabinet Secretary, to the best of your calculations, how do the votes stack up for the no confidence vote tomorrow?"

"Mister Prime Minister," the Secretary replied, "the opposition is sensing blood. They think they can win the vote, causing a general election, which they are confident of winning by running on a peace platform. Our members of parliament are becoming very disillusioned since the Hellertron collapse and subsequent headlong and seemingly unstoppable retreat. They have all read Commander Vadoran's intelligence reports on the combat efficiency of the Hellertron armed forces and it doesn't make good reading. Faulty and inadequate equipment, faulty officer training and a lack of spirit among the combat troops, stemming from a belief in their eventual defeat. If we accept the Kaytons' offer of peace talks with no pre-conditions, I am confident we can win the vote. But if we don't, I think the vote will be too close to call. I fear the worst; we are playing for time, Mister Prime Minister, and it is running out."

"I am not prepared to countenance any negotiations with the Kaytons," the Prime Minister declared. It would send out a completely wrong message to the Hellertrons and the Solaran people. Anyone can see they are trying to split us from our allies and I am not going to fall into that trap."

"What is our situation as far as reserves and armaments are concerned?" asked the Chancellor of the Exchequer, looking the Minister for War Production squarely in the eyes as he waited for a response.

He was the rising star of the government, tipped for the top job one day, being only thirty-eight years old when he assumed the post of Minister for War Production four years previously. He was the youngest ever cabinet member, handpicked for his organisational and mathematical genius. The ministry itself was vitally important for the very execution of the war. He promised and delivered a fifty percent increase in armaments and munitions production over four years. At the time, no one thought it could be done. Everyone except the Prime Minister said that if he even achieved half that target, he would have done well. But as in all his previous jobs, he once again showed the doubters that the impossible could be done. More and faster became the watchwords. Overnight he put the Solaran Commonwealth on a total war footing, eliminating waste and duplication, increasing the hourly working week, fully mobilising women into the war effort and cutting administration staff, first by ten percent and then a further twenty percent. But alas, since the Hellertron collapse it was not enough. The truth, however unpalatable, had to be told.

He just replied, "For now we are holding our own but we are burning out at the core. As far as armaments and munitions are concerned, the war can go on for another six to eight months. As for troop reserves, there are none. What we possessed have all been dispatched to help the Hellertrons. The replacement army cannot cope with the huge losses any longer. If the Kaytons break through the thinning crest of our defense lines we only have the strategical missile strike force left to cover our retreat, allowing us enough time to make an orderly withdrawal. But that is it then; no more reserves and all our raw materials will run out in a matter of months. I will, however, support the Prime Minister in whatever decision he makes."

"Thank you," the Prime Minister said. "I appreciate your support. Now I propose we reject the offer of peace talks—"

"I'm sorry, Mister Prime Minister, that is not good enough," the Foreign Secretary interrupted. "This is supposed to be cabinet government; I propose we vote on the matter."

"I second that," the Chancellor said.

"All right," replied the Prime Minister, "if that is what you all want, I agree. But if I lose the vote I will stand down immediately. I am not prepared to negotiate with those war criminals. Under the constitution I will hand over the reins of power to you at once, Mister Chancellor, and the best of luck to you, you are going to need it."

"If we get into serious talks with the Kaytons," the Foreign Secretary said, "we might be able to negotiate autonomy for the Hellertrons within their Greater Galactic Prosperity Sphere."

"If you believe that." the Prime Minister replied, "you're a bigger fool than I thought you were."

"It's better than being led down the road to ruination, which is what you're doing with Commander Vadoran egging you on," the Chancellor pointed out. "If we carry on like this the war is going to result in the complete total and absolute destruction of the Solaran commonwealth and its armed forces within a measurable amount of time."

"I've heard enough," the Prime Minister said. "Let's get on with the vote before I say something I will regret. All in favour of opening peace negotiations with the Kaytons raise your hands."

The tension was high as Kronos and Commander Vadoran looked on anxiously and the atmosphere could be cut with a knife as ten members of the cabinet raised their hands in acceptance of the proposal.

"All against," the Prime Minister said."

As the remainder of the cabinet voted, there were also ten votes, but there were actually twenty-one cabinet members.

"Who hasn't voted yet?" the Foreign Secretary asked. "Oh, it's old Horace. Is he still awake?"

"Is he still alive?" the Chancellor queried, causing some members of the cabinet, but not the Prime Minister, to smile.

Yes, it was Horace who had not yet voted. He was like little Jack Horner sat in the corner, but in this scenario, right at the end of the cabinet table. He was the Father of the House, being the oldest and longest serving Member of Parliament in the Solaran Commonwealth, but he held the lowest of the low of cabinet positions, Minister for Prices and Incomes. Essentially, in the wartime situation he had to keep inflation under control and to crack down as much as was humanly possible on black marketeering. Alas, high office had long since passed him by, but at least he had a good head of hair and all his own teeth.

He stared in the direction of the Chancellor and Foreign secretary. "Yes, I am still alive and wide awake. I have listened very intently to what has been said and before I cast my vote I am going to have my say. Mister Prime Minister, I remember your late father, all those years ago, warning about the danger the Kaytons posed as one by one they picked off their near neighbours. Then, when they were strong enough, taking on the Hellertrons and subsequently us, when we belatedly came to their aid. We were both in the Diplomatic Corps at the time, attached to our embassy on Rueatarn... that's where he met your mother. The Hellertrons have always been good friends to the Solaran people. I know, on average, they have made more mistakes and on average more of those mistakes have turned out to be disasters. But we cannot abandon them to a life of slavery under the Kaytons, It would be an eternal stain on our honour and reputation. I have read Commander Vadoran's mass observation report on the morale of the Solaran people and I am well aware the younger generation is getting very war weary, especially since the Hellertron collapse. But I also deduce from the findings that the older members of the population like myself still believe in the Kultarn prophecies that a miracle will occur and eventual victory will be ours, even more so now since the coming of the second Guardian— "

The Foreign Secretary interrupted. "You cannot base your decision on children's fairy stories we were taught at school. It's madness."

Horace continued, "I think it would be very inappropriate to open peace talks with the Kaytons and therefore I vote no to the proposal."

Then there was uproar as the Foreign Secretary said, "Horace, you have just signed the Government's death warrant. It's like the blind leading the blind into the abyss; we are heading towards a catastrophe."

Horace retorted, "At least I can sleep with a clear conscience tonight. Can you say the same, Mister Foreign Secretary?"

"You stupid, senile old fool!" the Foreign Secretary said, angrily.

"I am not going to be spoken to in that way by a young whippersnapper like you, Mister Foreign Secretary," Horace replied. If I were twenty years younger I would borrow Commander Vadoran's knuckle dusters, take you outside and give you a jolly good hiding that you would never forget. I bet you wouldn't come back for more. I was an amateur boxing champion when I was a teenager, winning many titles before I joined the Diplomatic Corps."

Even Commander Vadoran, along with most of the cabinet, smiled.

"On that note," the Prime Minister said, "I am now closing today's proceedings. We have all said things that, on reflection, we will regret tomorrow. I still regard you all as good friends and colleagues and I hope to see every one of you at the theatre tonight."

The Foreign Secretary and the Chancellor stormed out of the cabinet room, slamming the door behind them as everybody else made their way out in an orderly fashion,

"Thank you for your vote," the Prime Minister said to Horace. "You saved my skin today. I'm sorry about the tirade of abuse you had to endure; no one should have to put up with that."

"That's quite all right, Mister Prime Minister," Horace replied. "You get used to that. I have a skin as thick as a rhinoceros, or so my wife keeps telling me. I just hope you will feel the same way tomorrow after the vote of no confidence in parliament."

"Oh don't worry about it, Horace. What will be, will be; in this profession you take it one day at a time. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well, now you mention it, Mister Prime Minister, could I and the wife join you in the V.I.P box at the theatre tonight?"

"Of course, Horace. Consider it done." On their way out, the Prime Minister put his arm around Horace's shoulder while nobody was close by and whispered into his ear.

"Horace, the Kultarn Miracle may be closer than you ever imagined. Keep it to yourself though, because walls have ears and loose lips sink ships remember... Mum's the word."

Horace turned towards the Prime Minister, nodding his head vigorously. "Yes, Mister Prime Minister, I understand exactly what you're saying."

As everyone filed out, the Minister for War Production said to Kronos, "Guardian John would have been welcome to attend the cabinet meeting as an observer like yourself. How is he? Nobody has seen him for a couple of days."

"It's all been a bit too much for him," Kronos replied. "He wanted time to adjust to his new surroundings. He is all right now though and should be on his way to the theatre as we speak."

The Minister smiled. "I'm glad to hear that."

Fourteen

Freema and I arrived at the theatre early and were shown to our seats in the V.I.P box. It was like Sunday night at the London Palladium. All the great and the good of Solaran society were gathered and it would certainly be a full house. I saw the Foreign Secretary and the Chancellor arrive together. They were seated in their own V.I.P. box... oh, but they just reminded me of Statler and Waldorf out of the Muppet show. I bet they were talking about the Prime Minister. As my mother would say, I bet his ears were burning.

Then the Prime Minister, Kronos and Commander Vadoran arrived and Freema and I rose to greet them.

The Prime Minister said, "How are you, John? I haven't seen you for a while. Is Freema looking after you all right?"

"Mister Prime Minister," I replied, "I am okay, but I have to say that before I came to Sontral I was a good, clean living lad. I did not drink, smoke or go with loose women, but now I am doing all three. As for Freema... would you believe it, on her first day with me she put her hand on my leg. I said my mummy wouldn't like that and she replied, 'Oh shut up, it's not your mummy I am giving it to."

"Oh no, not again," Kronos groaned, vigorously shaking his head and covering his eyes with his hand in absolute disbelief as to what had just transpired.

Commander Vadoran looked even more stony-faced than was usual, even for him. As for poor old Freema, she was gobsmacked, just standing there motionless, her mouth wide open and her bottom jaw appearing to drop almost to the floor from utter shock and disbelief.

After a brief moment of silence during which no one knew what would come next, the Prime Minister broke the deadlock by bursting out laughing. "You're a lad and a half, John. That's a good one... I have not heard that before. It's the best laugh I have had for a long time and certainly the only one I have had today."

"I try to oblige, Mister Prime Minister," I replied airily as we all took our seats for the evening's performance. Who would have thought it? Me, sitting next to the Prime Minister at the Solaran equivalent to the London palladium. And what a show we were all treated to; there were singers, dancers, magicians, even holographic shows telling the history of the Solaran people, who now regarded themselves as the natural successors to the ancient Kultarn Civilization in terms of bringing peace and democracy to the galaxy as new planets joined the Solaran Commonwealth. But alas, all good things come to an end and the compere concluded the entertainment by introducing a children's choir who I thought, along with the audience, would sing the ancient Kultarn song the Solarans had adopted as their national anthem. After all, I had gone to the trouble, thanks to Kev, of learning it word for word, which must have been tortuous for him, trying to teach me. I remembered that in England, up until 1969 in the cinema, at the end of the night's performance everybody would stand up as the national anthem was played. However, as far as Sontral was concerned, I had got it completely wrong.

The conductor started the choir off and I immediately stood up and joined in, singing at the top of my voice, but to my utter amazement I was the only member of the audience who stood up to sing. Then it suddenly dawned on me that on Sontral, their custom was to sit in silence and listen to the choir perform the national anthem. The choir stopped singing, which triggered the conductor to turn around and stare at me in disbelief. I must have had a face as red as a beetroot but I continued to sing at the top of my voice as everyone else continued to stare at me in amazement. Anyway, I thought, like the television quizmaster back home used to say, I have started so I will finish. Well, what the heck, I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. Then, believe it or not, halfway through my solo performance, the Prime Minister stood up and joined in with me. That prompted the other members of the V.I.P. box to do the same, quickly followed by the whole of the theatre audience.

The conductor smiled, resuming again with his baton to direct his own choir as was intended in the first place. As the anthem was coming to an end, the focus of attention seemed to concentrate on one lone singer in the choir who stood at the front, apart from the main section of the choir. Or at least that's what the television cameras were zooming in on. Handsome looking young guy, he was. I bet he had all the girls chasing him like in the old advert. I would have said to him, 'How come you are such a big hit with the girls?' The anthem then came to an end. Oh, thank heavens for that, I thought. What a fool I had made of myself; my legs were like jelly. But the Prime Minister immediately started applauding, quickly being followed by the rest of the audience, some of whom were also cheering. The noise was deafening.

Freema smiled and I also noticed that Commander Vadoran was slow hand clapping, looking at me with a wry smile on his face.

The Prime Minister turned towards me and said, "Thank you, John. You have really endeared yourself to the Solaran people tonight. What you have done will spread throughout the Solaran Commonwealth like wildfire and never be forgotten.

"I try to be of service," I replied.

"You have just reminded me, John," the Prime Minister added, "we held a competition for our schools for the five to eleven-year-olds to come up with a slogan we could use in the war effort. If you're agreeable, we thought it would be a morale booster if, as a treat, you would visit the winning school tomorrow morning. Freema will accompany you."

"Of course, Mister Prime Minister. I would be glad to help out."

"Thank you again, John. I will see you tomorrow evening."

We bade each other goodnight and I heard Commander Vadoran say to the Prime Minister, "I wonder how many votes that little performance has won you in parliament tomorrow."

The Prime Minister made no reply as he made his way out of the theatre followed by Commander Vadoran.

Next, Kronos approached me and said, "John, up until now I had very grave doubts about you becoming a Guardian but after what I have just witnessed, I know now why the Guardianship chose you. Whatever happens from this day on, I know you will give it your best shot. Of that, I have no doubt."

I looked him squarely in the eye. "Thank you. That really means a lot to me."

Freema then gave me a big hug. Now that I did enjoy; I could play on that to my advantage. Well, I'm only human.

"Well done, John," she said.

I shrugged. "Oh it's nothing... all in a day's work."

As we began to make our way out I noticed Statler and Waldorf, aka the Chancellor and the Foreign Secretary, still in their V.I.P. box, watching us as we passed by.

The Foreign Secretary said to the Chancellor, "The Prime Minister is a very clever fellow; he is using the guardians to his own political advantage. He was odds on to lose the vote of no confidence in parliament tomorrow but my bookmaker has just texted me the latest odds. After this little episode he is now an even money bet to win. As soon as I get back home tonight I am going to start phoning all the wavering members of parliament I know personally. I will call in all the favours I am owed to get the Prime Minister over the winning line. I suggest you do the same."

The Chancellor raised his eyebrows. "What, you would do all that after what happened in cabinet today?"

"Yes," said the Foreign Secretary. "It's called self-preservation. If the government falls we will end up back on the opposition benches with a fifty percent pay cut for losing our ministerial positions. I will lose all my staff and private Transport and I will certainly miss being treated like a lord and waited on hand and foot when I visit places like Rueatarn. So I suggest you make a start tonight. We can lobby the remainder of our contacts tomorrow in parliament before the vote takes place."

"When you put it like that," the Chancellor replied, "I whole-heartedly agree with you. We had better make a move; we have a busy night ahead of us."

As for me, purely by accident, Commander Vadoran had realised I was now in everybody's good books. I was the one with a grin on my face as big as a Cheshire cat who had just landed on its feet and got the cream as well, because after bidding Freema and Kronos goodnight, I was escorted to my quarters by two of Commander Vadoran's guards, after which it was straight to bed for me after my hectic and very eventful night.

The night's performance had been broadcast throughout the Solaran Commonwealth and Hellertron Empire – that much I knew. But I did not know the live transmission was also being picked up by the Kayton Empire, including the capital planet, Tyros. Guess who was watching, in what I can only describe as a palatial Roman Emperor's villa given to him by the Kaytons? Yes, it was the ever slippery Wesker. One of many rewards they had given him for selling out his people and defecting, the villa had to be seen to be believed, with its extensive grounds, including a private lake. The main living room itself had the largest private window on Tyros with a breathtaking view of the snowcapped Traxos Mountains in the distance. There was deep pile carpeting on the floor, a real log fire burning and numerous looted pictures hanging on the walls. To top it all, he was the head of the Kaytons' scientific corps.

Yes, he had it all, but something was bothering him that night as he stood in front of his large screen television that hung on the wall. He was just staring at the screen at the end of the night's performance with his arms folded and a glum look on his face that Commander Vadoran would have been proud of. He sensed something was going on; things just didn't add up in his mind and he thought the Solarans were up to something. Going over and over in his mind were the ancient Kultarn prophecies that he had learnt at school all those years ago. Also, he had received a piece of intelligence from one of his contacts on Sontral. Although his fears were too imprecise and too indefinite, he had certainly made up his mind to see the Supreme Kayton Council if he could get an appointment the following day to put his case.

As the night's performance ended, he said, "Screen off, main lights off." He then retired for the evening with much on his mind to contemplate as did many other people on that particular night.

For me, it was to be my last night on Sontral. Yes, the reckoning was moving nearer by the hour as I thought about the Kayton battle squadron advancing ever closer to Earth. We could not afford to fail. All our hopes and dreams depended on the successful outcome of the mission. Of that there could be no doubt, but on the flip side I also wondered how I had got myself into this mess in the first place. We each suppose that what we do, we do as a matter of course but in reality each person's actions is to some extent dictated by others. Never mind that advert, 'What if?' I would say, 'If only, if only the fish had been biting that fateful day at Church Fenton. Those crafty, brown, slippery tench with the piercing, beady, blood shot red eyes that gave the impression they had been out on the town the night before. If only those woodlice had not been crawling all over my feet in that derelict house, I would not have stamped on the floor so hard that it gave way. If only I had left the building straight away instead of succumbing to greed in my search for valuables for my own financial gain. Yes, if only those and many other things had been done differently I would not be in the position I am in now but you can only go forward, not back...' eventually, after much tossing and turning I fell asleep.

Fifteen

As a new day dawned, I was up bright and early as usual. If nothing else, I was at least a good timekeeper, making sure I was ready with time to spare before Freema came to collect me. And so we were on our way to the school that had won the competition to come up with a morale boosting poster for the war effort. The prize was a visit to the winning school by me, which I had promised the Prime Minister the night before. Well, you know me... ever willing to please. Freema had told me the slogan would be displayed above the main school gate as we entered. As we were driven through, Freema pointed it out to me. Dedicated to our Prime Minister, the first worker of the Solaran Commonwealth, it proclaimed. Our Walls May Break, But Never Our Hearts. I think the children must have had some help from the teachers to come up with that slogan. I thought to myself I could adapt it for my friends like Bob in the bookies. It would read, Our Wallets May Break But Never Our Hearts.

On disembarking from what I could only describe as a silent, ultra-sleek electric car, chauffer driven of course, we were greeted by the headmistress and senior members of staff. I noticed some girls playing with one big skipping rope as we were being shown into the school buildings. They were singing, "Wesker, Wesker, as slippery as an eel, he sold out his people for the price of a meal." What next? I thought as we were shown into the main assembly hall to applause from the children and staff. A little girl approached Freema presenting her with a bunch of flowers while at the same time a little boy presented me with a gift as a memento of my visit.

I thanked him and he then said, obviously unscripted, "Guardian John, are you and Guardian Kronos going to come together as one and beat the Kaytons?"

Freema gave me an anxious look as I knelt down so that we were the same height.

"Yes," I replied, "Guardian Kronos and I are going to lick them and kick them so hard their feet won't touch the ground until they land back on Tyros where they belong. Then we will put the lid back on them like a jack-in- a-box." I snapped my hands shut to imitate the puppet being boxed up and then ran my hand through his hair as he and everyone laughed. The little boy then ran back to his school friends and we all took our seats to watch the children play xylophone-type instruments as well as singing and performing a short play, after which we had a drink and a bite to eat.

I remember someone once saying to me, "Do you like children, John?" I replied, "Yes, but I couldn't eat a whole one."

An elderly member of staff, looking at me and Freema, remarked, "Oh, don't they make a nice couple?"

Another member of staff said to Freema, "Aren't the children cute; would you like to have one?"

"Not for a few years yet," Freema replied.

As the morning came to an end so did our visit and we bade the staff and children goodbye. They all waved as we boarded our Transport home. But just before we did, I noticed two little boys... would you believe it, they were both poking a dead rat with sticks and singing, "Drakos, Drakos, poke his eyes; make him cry until he dies."

Charming, I thought, as Freema and I waved out of the car window. As we drove away I noticed one of the little boys who had no front teeth. I suppose, as the saying went, 'All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.' Anyway, he picked up the dead rat, holding it by the tail and said, "This is how Drakos will end up."

We then made our way back to the training facility for my last full training session. If I thought I was going to get an easy last day, I was mistaken. She worked me like a dog to improve my completion time and the sweat was pouring off me.

"Come on, John! Come, on John!" she urged as I knuckled down to the task in hand. No more were those slippery, silvery, shadowy hologram men going to get the better of me, though, as I mowed them down with ever faster regularity. Oh, I was glad when break time came. I was so jiggered and hungry I could have slept for a week and eaten a scabby horse, as Josh, a friend of my mother, used to say. I remember when I was a youngster, my mother was wearing a wig – or whirly gig, as Josh called it. We were outside Leeds market when a gust of wind blew it off her head. Josh and his brother, Johnny, could be seen running down the road chasing after the wig, but every time they bent down to pick it up another gust of wind blew it even further out of reach. I couldn't stop laughing; they reminded me of Laurel and Hardy. Eventually, after many attempts, they managed to retrieve it, much to the relief of my mother.

Another time, just before bonfire night, a group of children were sitting outside the pub asking people as they came out for a penny for the guy. Josh, with his brother Johnny, took the meaning of the children's statement literally. Josh gave them the penny and then he and Johnny picked up the guy and ran off with it. The poor kids, who were completely gobsmacked, just stood in shock momentarily and then started chasing after Josh and Johnny, shouting, "Mister, mister, give us our guy back!" After a while they dropped the guy on the floor and the pursuit was over as the children retrieved their guy, holding on to it very tightly, never to be caught out like that again.

As we sat down to have our break, Freema said, "Well done, John. Remember, proper planning gets good results. You're a soldier now."

"I should hope so," I replied "after all the hours I have put in."

She laughed. "Now on a more serious note, John, on Tyros the Drones will be your deadliest enemy but once the rebellion starts they will be your best friends. If, for whatever reason, you get separated from Kronos and Adema, seek them out and stick to them like glue, especially if the Transdamping barrier is still in operation. You will instantly recognize the Vogarans from Tau Seti. They all have very noticeably deep blue eyes, once seen never forgotten."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I replied in a somewhat more sombre voice as we finished off our refreshments before returning to our last ever training session.

In Parliament, events were starting to unfold ahead of the vital vote of no confidence that was about to take place. Commander Vadoran and Kronos took their seats in the public gallery to observe events as they developed. Both sides were lobbying right up until the last minute, as every vote counted. Even Horace was working his old magic. He could be heard saying to someone, "I hope the Prime minister can count on your support. I have heard your son is trying to get into the diplomatic service. It's very hard now to gain admittance, but a letter of recommendation from me would go a long way."

Hopefully the hint was taken; all the government ministers, including the Chancellor and Foreign Secretary, were busy lobbying right up until the Prime Minister entered the chamber. After which they all took their seats on their respective sides of the House of Commons.

The Prime Minister asked the chief whip how the votes were stacking up. He said it was still too close to call.

The Speaker of the House then said, "I would like to call the House to order to allow the Prime Minister to make a statement to the House before the vote of no confidence is taken."

Rising to his feet, the Prime Minister began by saying, "Thank you, Mister Speaker. I would first like to confirm the Hellertrons have agreed to place their armed forces under our operational command. That should improve our overall performance and avoid a repetition of what happened at the Battle of Koresh. I know as well as you that Koresh was not just a defeat; it was a catastrophe with far reaching consequences for everyone, but hopefully now we have stabilised the situation. As for the offer of peace talks by the Kaytons with no pre-conditions, my answer is no. It is obvious they are trying to split us from our Hellertron allies. I would rather be taken outside right now, put against a wall and shot than negotiate with those gangsters. The only terms I will accept from the Kaytons is unconditional surrender, after which my first act would be to set up a War Crimes Commission to prosecute those responsible for committing war crimes against the Hellertrons—"

The leader of the opposition then stood up, interrupting the Prime Minister. "Do you know we are losing ten thousand boys a day on the various battle fronts? We cannot carry on like this for much longer."

"Order!" the speaker shouted.

The Prime Minister continued. "Yes, I do know and not a day goes by when it does not weigh heavily on my mind but I think we would be betraying their sacrifice if we abandoned the Hellertrons to their fate and made a separate peace. And what sort of peace would it be? We would end up as a vessel state of the Kaytons in their so-called Greater Galactic Prosperity Sphere—"

The leader of the opposition interrupted again. "Has the Prime Minister seen the newsreels from Tyros of the victory parades through the streets of their cities? They have even declared a three-day national holiday to celebrate their crushing victory."

"Order!" the speaker commanded. "I will have order in this House."

Again the Prime Minister continued. "Have faith, my learned friend. One day there will be a holiday in our street, too. I do believe we will win through in the end... in fact, of that I have no doubt. I know the Solaran people would never forgive us if we made the wrong decision. But in the end it is up to this house to decide what path we take. The decision is yours and yours alone. I rest my case." The Prime Minister sat down momentarily as applause and cheers rang out from the government benches and derisory jeers from the opposition benches.

You could cut the atmosphere with a knife as the vote itself took. The members of parliament filed past the speaker to cast their respective vote. For some it took an eternity and to others it was over all too quickly; it was all in the eyes of the beholder.

At last the votes had been counted and the result was about to be announced. The speaker rose to his feet. "The result of the vote is as follows: all those in favour of the motion of no confidence, three hundred and forty eight. All those against, three hundred and fifty two. The no's have it by a margin of four votes. The motion is defeated."

Enthusiastic and ecstatic cheers came from the government benches while nothing but despondency and disbelief emanated from those of the opposition. The leader of the opposition could be seen storming out of the debating chamber in disgust, accompanied by his entourage. The Prime Minister breathed a sigh of relief at yet another hurdle being overcome, but tiredness was now starting to creep in, for he had to contend with one problem after another. Nevertheless, an important victory had been won. The right thing had been done and the honour of the Solaran people was maintained. After thanking as many of his ministers and members of his party as was humanly possible for supporting and lobbying on his behalf, he made his way back to the Prime Minister's residence accompanied by Kronos and Commander Vadoran.

Yes, the time for talking politics was now over and the time for action was almost at hand. In just a matter of hours, the attempt to break the Transdamping barrier would be made. It was none too soon, as Commander Vadoran informed the Prime Minister that the Hellertrons had declared martial law throughout the remainder of their territories, including the capital planet of Rueatarn. A dusk to dawn curfew had been imposed to try and stop panic breaking out and the police and army had been ordered to shoot to kill looters on sight. The regular Hellertron army was still doing its duty and fighting well but not so the younger conscripts who in many cases were now starting to throw down their weapons and run. The Hellertron military police had just been given new battlefield powers to deal with them whereas, before, they would arrest deserters and then deliver them to the military courts to be dealt with. Now they were ordered to administer on the spot Court Martials if deserters refused to get back into the front line, the consequences of which could lead to on-the-spot executions, especially for the ringleaders. In Commander Vadoran's opinion, the Hellertrons were starting to show the first signs of disintegration. It was imperative to get things moving that night.

Sixteen

Back at the training facility, Freema and I were starting to wind down. She had worked wonders considering the material she had to work with, meaning me. Everything that could be done in the limited amount of time available had been done. We could ask no more. The mood had certainly changed from deep pessimism to mild optimism as Freema turned all the equipment off. For security purposes, she even wiped the videos of me going through my paces that Commander Vadoran and Kronos had been viewing to assess my progress.

"Will you miss the place, John?" she asked.

"I will certainly never forget it," I replied, taking one last look at the holographic target range, thinking to myself, you slippery, shadowy, silver men who got the better of me, making a fool out of me more often than not. What shame you brought on me. But now the tables are turned. For you are now the ones who live in fear of me as I mow you down, one by one, with increasing regularity. Your day has passed and mine has now come. You slippery, shadowy, silver men. Never to be seen again.

"Lights off," Freema said as she sealed the complex with her security pass and then accompanied me back to my quarters for the last time.

Meanwhile, on Tyros at the top secret weapons proving ground at Intersborn in the sparsely populated province of East Karelia, a group of high-ranking Kayton officers were gathered to evaluate the results of the testing of the new cascade weapon. Wesker was present as it was his scientific corps that had developed the new secret weapon. He represented their interests and could give answers to specific technical and operational data. From an observation pill box a safe distance away, they could see a herd of horses grazing in the field below. Wesker then gave the order to fire an artillery shell which exploded well above the heads of the horses. On detonation, the noise spooked the horses and they all immediately bolted in every direction, driven by sheer panic. What rained down on the horses thereafter were best described as yellow spheres, the size of marbles. They did not just fall randomly; they actually zeroed in on their target. On contact with the horses, the spheres literally and instantaneously dissolved them into no more than a pile of ashes. All the Kayton officers were very impressed.

The highest ranking General said, "Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic! Wesker, you have surpassed yourself. How long before it can be brought into quantity production for battlefield use?"

"We can tool up new factories," Wesker replied, "in four to six weeks. There's no shortage of labour now with all the Hellertron civilians that are now falling into our hands as our relentless advance continues. I would also like to point out that it can be programmed not to attack our forces in a confused battlefield situation. In effect, it will only latch on to certain ethnic groups whether it be Hellertron Solaran or the resistance fighters on occupied planets like Tau Seti, which are giving our forces so much trouble. Also, it can penetrate obstacles many meters thick, like armour, to seek out and destroy its target."

"Excellent," the General said, "but instead of using it in a piecemeal way, which would alert the Solarans and give them time to develop a counter measure, I want the shells stock-piled to use in one huge strategical offensive on every battle front simultaneously for maximum effect. We should then be able to break the Solaran lines once and for all, forcing them into a non-stop retreat and bringing them to the negotiating table and so ending the war. Commence full production as soon as possible. I want six hundred million airburst shells by May. My people will be in touch with yours tomorrow to finalise details. I will personally inform the Supreme Council of your excellent work in this matter."

"Thank you," General Wesker replied. "It will be done."

They all began to disperse and make their respective ways back to the Citadel on Transports provided for them by the military.

On reaching my quarters back on Sontral, I invited Freema to join me for a farewell drink before I departed in a few hours' time. She thought I would want to be on my own to reflect and prepare but I said I would appreciate her company, at least for a while.

"How do you really feel, John?" Freema asked. "If you want, I can have a word with Commander Vadoran to try and get the mission postponed for a few days to give you more time to train and prepare? I'm sure it would improve your chances of success."

Privately, sometimes I didn't know how I found the inner strength to go on, but I wasn't going to tell Freema that. As for postponing the mission, well that was a definite non-starter considering Earth's precarious position on the receiving end of a Kayton battle squadron in about a day and a half's time.

"I feel I am as ready as I am ever going to be," I told her. "To delay any longer would not make any difference to the overall outcome of the mission one way or another. But Freema, do not be sad. I have to go. I will be back before you know it. To be together forever more... if that be what you desire once more... never to be parted, never to be sad... free to drive each other mad."

Freema laughed. "You silly boy. What I'm I going to do with you?"

"Where I come from," I replied, "a man gets one last request before going on a dangerous mission. I would like a dance before we part company."

"Of course, John."

As we both rose to our feet and came together, I instructed Kev to play my number one song of all time, Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues from 1967. I'm afraid my hands slipped down just a little bit too low for Freema's liking and she immediately raised them to a more respectable level. Well, you can't blame a guy for trying... I'm only human.

As the song came to its climacteric conclusion, I gazed into Freema's eyes and repeated the lyrics that were being sung. I also said, "I love you."

Freema lowered her eyes. "I think I had better go now."

She turned away and silently made her way out of my quarters, leaving me standing there on my own as the song came to its inevitable end. I stared straight ahead at the wall in complete silence for what seemed like an eternity.

After a while I said to Kev, "Did other people on Earth handle you before me? And if so, why did you choose me to be the Guardian and not them?"

"Yes, John," Kev replied. "Many people have handled me over the ages but I chose you over them because you are a good person and they were not."

"Well, that's a joke," I said, "considering some of the things I have been up to over the last few months."

"I know, but I always knew you were a good person who would, in the end, do the right thing."

"If anything happens to me and I don't make it back, what happens to you?"

"If you die, John, I will also cease to exist."

After a few more moments of silence I made up my mind. "Take me to my parents' grave. It might be the last time I see them, or Earth."

"Of course, John."

Almost immediately, I was Transported to Earth.

Back on Sontral, Freema had just joined the Prime Minister, Commander Vadoran and Kronos. All three were in feverish discussions about the current war situation and the imminent attempt to break the Transdamping barrier which was only a matter of hours away.

"Hello Freema," the Prime Minister said. "Is John ready to go? Everything is now set in motion for tonight."

"Mister Prime Minister," Freema replied, "I would like you to postpone the attempt even if it's only for a few days. I am convinced the extra time in training would make all the difference and increase the chances of success immeasurably."

"I'm sorry, Freema. Everything is now set in motion and far too advanced for it to be changed. We go tonight, come hell or high water—"

Commander Vadoran interrupted. "Can he use the rifle properly? And is he able to handle the explosives and place them as prescribed in the correct location?"

"Yes, Commander," Freema replied. "But I still think you are sending him on a dangerous mission with only the bare minimum of training."

"And you, Freema," the Commander retorted, "should not be letting your personal feelings for John get in the way of the execution of the mission."

At that, Freema abruptly turned away and stormed out of the room with Kronos in hot pursuit. He eventually caught up with her in the hallway of the Prime Minister's residence.

"I know it might seem harsh, Freema," Kronos said, "but there are very important operational reasons why we must make the attempt tonight. I cannot elaborate further; you are just going to have to take the matter on trust." He looked at her searchingly. "Is Commander Vadoran right? Have you fallen for him?"

Freema made no response.

"John was a rascal when I first met him," Kronos continued, "but now I am proud to call him a friend. I am convinced he will do us all proud tomorrow. No matter what you feel for him one way or the other, I hope you will be there tonight to see him off and wish him well. You know how lonely it can be when an agent goes on a mission. Especially his first. You have trained enough of them over the years. Anyway, I will leave you to think over what I have just said."

With that they then bade each other farewell and went their separate ways.

On Earth I was just concluding my final private moments at my parents' grave ide. I leaned over until my cheek touched the cold marble headstone and whispered, "Goodbye Mum, Dad. I love you both." I then stood upright. I remember when my mother died, the vicar asked me what I thought the meaning of life was. I told him I thought the meaning of life was to honour your parents. He thought that was a good answer and said he would always remember my response. On my father's parents' grave in Holland, part of the inscription reads, They lived their lives serving others. I think my parents could have the same inscription written on their headstone. Yes, for they were the good people and the good people are everything. It is true that all the best people get taken first. It was early morning; no one else was about, the birdsong was increasing and the squirrels with their long bushy tails were actively scampering along the grass and running up and down the trees. I noticed a gang of sparrows feeding; a young blackbird that was much bigger than any sparrow was standing next to one of the sparrows. He had his mouth open and would you believe it... the little sparrow was feeding the blackbird by dropping worms down its throat. The blackbird kept asking for more; I should think the sparrow must have been exhausted with all the demands. In the end he got fed up and started to show the blackbird how to find his own food by rummaging in the grass verge. But the young blackbird was having none of it; he knew when he was on to a good thing and made the sparrow carry on feeding him until the whole group of them flew away to pastures new.

As I stood there, I could have sworn the sun was shining just that little bit brighter than normal. I think that could be explained by the fact that I hadn't seen much natural sunlight over the last few days. In effect, I had been living like a troglodyte. I then thought to myself, if the day dawns in a couple of days' time and everything remains as it is now, calm and peaceful, then I will know we have succeeded and with a bit of luck I may already be home, staring up at the sky.

"Kev," I said, "can you detect the Kayton battle squadron heading towards Earth?"

"Yes, I can," Kev replied.

"How long before it reaches Earth and what will happen to the population when it does?"

"At its present Translight speed, it will reach Earth's atmosphere in just over thirty six hours' time. If the population resists there will be carnage on a truly global scale. If they surrender without a fight, the men of military age will be turned into Drones to fight in the Kayton armed forces. As for the old and the women and children, they will be put to work in the Kayton war factories or the mines because Earth has rich mineral resources which they will be keen to exploit."

Not much of a choice, I thought. Anyway, I had heard enough. I took one last good look around me. "Right, Kev, then let's show them who they are messing with when they take on Earth. Transport me back to my quarters on Sontral immediately." And so it was done. The remaining time, I used to pack my belongings and tidy my room up. I always like to leave a place the way I find it. Then I just sat in the armchair, contemplating what lay ahead. Not a good strategy. When the inevitable knock on the door came, my face lit up. I thought it was Freema coming to collect me, to accompany me to Chris and Alana's laboratory. When I answered the door, my smile disappeared. It was Kronos who came to collect me, not Freema. Mind you, it could have been worse... it could have been Commander Vadoran.

"Are you ready, John?" Kronos asked.

"Yes, as ready as I am ever going to be."

"Okay, let's go then. Let's give the Kaytons hell; teach them a lesson they will never forget." And with that we made what seemed to me the long journey to Chris and Alana's laboratory.

On the way, Kronos said, "My Guardianship notified me you had travelled to Earth earlier."

"Did you think I had done a runner?"

"No," Kronos said. "I know you better than that."

"I went to visit my parents' grave," I explained.

"That's what I thought," Kronos said. "Freema paid us a visit earlier on; she tried to get the mission postponed to give you more time to prepare. Of course that is impossible, but Freema doesn't know that."

"Will she be there to see us off?" I asked.

"I'm sure Kronos said that if she likes you half as much as he thinks she does, she will be there."

On entering the research facility we had to negotiate one check point as, for obvious reasons, security had been increased. We then made our way to the laboratory where I not only saw Chris and Alana awaiting our presence, but also the Prime Minister, Commander Vadoran, and Professor Zinnerman, but alas there was no sign of Freema.

After saying our farewells, Kronos and I took a few paces forward until we stood in front of what I could only describe as a large circular disc like a cart wheel but without the spokes. Just at that moment, in the nick of time, guess who arrived? Yes, of course, it was Freema.

Kronos turned to me. "Go on, John. Go and have a word with her, you still have time."

I walked over to her. "I meant what I said earlier."

"Yes, and I love you, too," she replied. "I always have and I always will."

"I do so much want to live so that I can be with you."

"And you will be," Freema replied. "I will not let them destroy you, but you must do exactly what Kronos and Adema say. You must see what they see and do what they do and with a bit of luck you will be back before you know it."

"I have to tell you that I have done some very questionable things in the past that I am not very proud of."

She gave me a hug. "You silly boy, I don't want to know what you have done in the past. I only want to know how you are going to live your life in the future."

Kronos then said, "I will get him back to you, Freema. Whatever it takes, I will get him back."

As we whispered our goodbyes to each other, after which I rejoined Kronos, I think everyone in the room was touched except Commander Vadoran. As glum-faced as ever, to him it was just another potential impediment to the successful execution of the mission, the miserable old beggar. Eight of the Majestic Nine were now present. Only Adema, who would be waiting to receive us on Tyros, was not in that room as the moment of truth arrived.

The Prime Minister had the last word. "Chris, Alana, do your best, do us proud and make history."

No pressure there then, Chris thought as Kronos and I fed the coordinates into our guardianships for our journey to meet Adema on Tyros. Our portals appeared next to each other at the base of the wheel but, as expected, they were both black in colour with the occasional lightning bolt shooting across the portals. Yes, the Transdamping barrier was doing its job well. Chris and Alana then started the process. The transparent wheel itself did not move, only what was inside it. I can only describe it as white hot plasma energy, swirling around faster and faster inside the wheel and then it began to expand inwards until it surrounded our two portals. On making contact with our portals, the plasma made a horrific noise. It reminded me of a Tesla machine I had seen demonstrated on the Open University once. I could see and smell the plasma energy burning on contact with our portals as well as sparks flying. I thought, are we a bit too close? Anyway, we both stayed rooted to the spot in anticipation but to no avail. Whatever Chris was trying to do, the Transdamping barrier was getting the better of him and Alana.

The Prime Minister shook his head. "It's not working."

Professor Zinnerman quickly made his way over to the control panels to lend Chris and Alana a hand and do what he could to help.

"I'm reconfiguring the flow," Chris said, "into one concentrated power surge."

"I thought you would," the Professor replied, "but you will only get one shot at it. The system will overload and burn itself out very quickly."

"I know," Chris said, "but I have no choice now. It's all or nothing." As he pushed the system to its maximum extent the noise was deafening as the plasma energy did battle with our two separate portals. Then, would you believe it... there was a loud bang as, before our very eyes, our two portals came together, forming one larger portal that was now back to its normal white colour and therefore useable. Everyone in that room must have thought the same as I did – that this was what the ancient Kultarn prophesy must have meant, 'And those two Guardians will then come together as one.'

Chris then shouted, "Go through now, it will only hold for a few seconds."

We needed no prompting and both stepped through the portal in unison like a pair of ferrets down a rabbit hole and hence into the unknown as the portal then began to collapse in on itself. Chris, who was visibly relieved, shut down the whole system before it overloaded and burnt out.

The Professor then turned to him. "Well done my son, you have done what no one else thought possible."

"Thank you," Chris replied."

Alana then approached and gave Chris a kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations, I knew you would succeed. I just knew it."

As Chris turned red with embarrassment the Professor smiled, no doubt thinking it was about time someone made the first move.

The Prime Minister then spoke. "Chris, Alana, well done. As for you, Commander Vadoran, by your tireless efforts over the last few years you have given them the means, but only God can give them the courage to carry out the mission. I suggest we all now retire for the evening and have a good night's rest in readiness for tomorrow's momentous events. Unlike the Kaytons, who will be into their third day of drunken behaviour... hopefully, that will work to our advantage."

With that, everyone dispersed as Kronos and I emerged through the other side of the portal.

Seventeen

What confronted us was a large walled garden full of trees and exotic plants and the realization that we had completed our one way journey to Tyros as our portal collapsed behind us. I now realized there was no going back; it was a case of all or nothing. Everything depended on the outcome of tomorrow's events.

A man approached us. It was Adema. I thought straight away that he reminded me of the man who wrote Downton Abbey. Looks can be deceptive; to look at him, you wouldn't think he was one of Commander Vadoran's best agents.

"It's so good to see you, Kronos," Adema said. "I thought this day would never come." They shook hands and embraced.

"Good to see you too, Adema," Kronos replied. "Now this is John, who has agreed to help us in our fight against the Kaytons."

Adema shook my hand firmly. "It's good to finally meet you, John. I cannot thank you enough for your help in our mission to bring down the Kaytons."

"It's good to finally meet you as well, Adema," I replied. "I have heard so much about you and the efforts you have made over the last three years to make the mission possible."

"Yes. Everything is now coming to its inevitable climax." He led us out of his garden into his villa proper.

"Is this all yours?" I asked as we entered the main living area.

"Yes. This is what you get when you sell your soul to the devil. I even have staff to maintain the place but I gave them the weekend off, for obvious reasons."

Adema then invited us to sit down and provided refreshments for all three of us.

"Are things as bad as the Kayton propaganda are making out?" he asked Kronos.

"Yes," Kronos replied. "The Hellertrons are in full retreat. The Prime Minister only narrowly won a vote of no confidence in Parliament. If the situation deteriorates any further he would not win another one. Now, John, if you are in agreement and seeing that Adema is risking his life tomorrow in part to help you, I would like to reveal the reason why to him."

I nodded in agreement and Kronos continued. "John's home planet is Earth and a Kayton battle squadron is less than a day and a half away from occupying it. That is the main reason why we are making the attempt tomorrow."

"I wondered why the attempt was being made so soon after John arrived on Sontral," Adema said. "I assumed more time would be spent on his training for the mission. We will have to make doubly sure we succeed." He then laid out the blueprints of the Drone command bunker on the table for Kronos to inspect.

"Oh," said Kronos, "that magnamite shield casing protecting the power generator relays is a lot thicker than I expected. Are you sure the charges will be strong enough to sever the connection?"

"What I have done," Adema replied, "is re-engineered the charges into a shape charge, so it will punch deeply in one direction instead of dissipating in many different directions. All the computer simulations I have run confirm my calculations but the charges must be placed correctly to ensure success."

"Have you got that, John?" Kronos asked.

"I certainly have," I replied. "I won't let you down. The charges will be placed correctly, you can be assured of that. What is magnamite, though? I have never heard of that metal before."

"Magnamite is the hardest metal alloy known," Kronos replied. "That's why the Kaytons are so interested in Earth because it has rich deposits deep within its crust."

For the rest of the evening we relaxed and talked more about personal matters than what lay ahead. On Tyros itself, the population was coming to the end of its three days of national celebration that had been declared by the Supreme Council to mark the crushing victory they had just achieved over the Hellertrons. In vast night clubs, people were dancing on the huge dance floors that were surrounded by tables and bars. The constant, repetitive thump of the music was blaring out in ever increasing volumes. In the middle of each table a holograph was being projected of a scantily clad woman dancing the night away. Mind you, there were plenty of real women to be found, as well of hordes of drunken men, all celebrating now they thought the war was as good as over. The sheer excess of it all was reminiscent of a scene from Sodom and Gomorrah.

In a special V.I.P. area off the main dance floor, Drakos was sitting with his son and, shall we say, four ladies of the night. Wesker then approached and as he did so, two of the women got up to meet him, one on either side of him, putting an arm around him.

He was not amused. "Go away; make tracks."

"Oh, lighten up, man!" Drakos shouted. "All work and no play makes Wesker a dull boy. Have you met my son, Daymar? He has just been promoted to the Citadel guard."

"Yes, I'm pleased for you," Wesker replied, "but if you don't mind, I would like a word in private."

"Go on, son," Drakos said. "Take the girls for a dance while I have a chat with grumpy old Wesker. Now then, what can I do for you?"

"I have been worried since the arrival of the second Guardian," Wesker replied. "One of my contacts on Sontral, a former secretary, has come across a top secret project called Majestic that involves the guardians. She reckons less than ten people even know of its existence."

"But what makes you think Majestic has anything to do with the Guardians?" Drakos asked.

"Because there has been a flurry of activity surrounding Majestic since the arrival of the second Guardian on Sontral. Also, he has been seen a lot with a woman who trains their agents in the use of weapons and explosives and then he disappears off the grid altogether for long periods of time."

"How much did you pay her for that piece of information?"

"A lot," Wesker replied. "She took great risks to get me the information; you certainly don't want to know how much I paid."

"The Kaytons will, though, and when they do they will be cutting your money down because you have been conned. I have had no reports from my agents on Sontral about anything being in the offing. You have been given a bum steer."

"Yes, but your contacts are in the military not the scientific directorate—"

"No, you are wrong, Wesker," said Drakos. There is nothing going on and as for the guardian disappearing off the grid, well so did Kronos when he went over to the Solarans. Maybe they are training him for behind the lines operations, but that is not going to make any difference now at this late stage in the war. The Kayton military have been informed to prepare for the rapid occupation of the remainder of the Hellertron empire, due to their worsening situation. The only thing reliable in this unreliable Galaxy is the unreliability of the Hellertrons. After the Hellertrons surrender, the Solarans will be suing us for peace. They will not continue the war without allies, especially with all their raw materials running out."

"Do you remember," Wesker said, "when we were at school all those years ago, we were taught the stories about the ancient Kultarn and their written prophecies they read... And those two guardians will then come together as one and help prevent a terrible darkness from descending over the galaxy."

"And that's all they were," Drakos replied. "Nothing more than stories that were passed down through the ages to captivate and amuse the young."

"Yes, when we were young that was a valid argument, but look what has happened since both Guardianships have come into existence and chosen two Guardians who have both joined the Solarans."

Drakos chuckled to himself. "What are they going to do? Come together and sing us to death like the Guardian did at the theatre the other night? Did you see that performance? All I can say is I hope he doesn't give up his day job to sing full time."

Wesker missed the joke. "I'm telling you the Solarans are up to something."

"What do you want me to do?" Drakos asked, noting Wesker becoming ever more agitated.

"Go and see the Supreme Council. You are head of security, make out a case for more stringent security procedures."

"All right," Drakos conceded. "You are worse than my ex-wife for nagging. I will contact the Supreme Council first thing in the morning to make an appointment to see them as soon as possible, which will probably be sometime in the afternoon. Are you happy now?"

"Yes. Thank you, I appreciate that," Wesker replied.

"What did the Supreme Council say when you spoke to them about your concerns?" Drakos asked.

"They told me that I was worrying unnecessarily over nothing and the war would soon be over. The guardians along with the Hellertron empire and the Kultarn legacy would all then be consigned to the dustbin of history."

"I couldn't agree more," Drakos said. "What do you make of the new Guardian? Do you think he will come over to us when the war is over?"

Wesker shook his head. "I think not. My impression of him is that I don't think he has a religion but he has certainly developed a conscience. I don't think he will be coming over to us any time in the near future and that's why, when the war is over, we should make it a priority to find out his home planet so that we can exert the necessary pressure on him to comply with our wishes."

At that moment, Daymar and the girls appeared back on the scene.

"I will bid you all goodnight then," Wesker continued.

"Likewise," Drakos said. "I will talk to you further tomorrow to let you know how I fared with the Supreme Council."

With that, Wesker made his way out as everyone else continued to party the night away.

Back in the quieter and more modest surroundings of Adema's residence, all three of us were talking the night away. I think they were trying to cheer me up and take my mind off more pressing worries.

"Do you have anyone waiting for you back on Earth?" Adema asked.

"No, not on Earth," I replied.

Kronos then explained. "John has Freema waiting for him on Sontral. She trained John for the mission, during which time they fell for each other and now they are an item."

Adema smiled. "I'm sure when this is all over, you and Freema can make a life for yourselves and be happy."

"Thanks," I replied. "Do you have any family back on Sontral waiting for you?"

"I had a wife and son," Adema said." My son was killed in the war and my wife died not long afterwards from grief. My son was posthumously awarded the highest military award. He saved everyone on that Transport before an explosion killed him while he was trying to put out the fire."

"I'm so sorry, Adema," I replied. "You have lost everyone so dear and precious to you."

"There is no need for tears or sorrow, John, because I know tomorrow we are going to be responsible for changing the course of history. We shall be instrumental in ridding the galaxy of the most evil despicable creatures that have ever lived; that I know to be true and that will be my revenge."

"Yes, it is a very sobering thought," Kronos remarked.

"I think something went terribly wrong in the distant past," I said. "The Kultarn foresaw what events were going to unfold in the future. So they created the Guardianships for future generations to at least make the attempt at righting the wrongs of the past."

"I think you are right, John," Kronos replied. "Spot on with your interpretation of what has transpired."

As Adema nodded in agreement, Kronos continued, "John, in the brief time I have known you it has been a pleasure and an honour to call you a friend. I hope we will always remain so."

"Thank you," I said. "I feel likewise. In fact, I have had my life more enriched in the last few days with you and everyone else than I have in the last few months on Earth put together. I wouldn't swap the time I have had with you, not for all the tea in China and all the gold in fort Knox as a bonus. The experiences I have had and the places I have seen... well, you were right, I really have seen the stars, but most of all the warmth and welcome of the people I have met and the love I have found. I hope that this time tomorrow the war is over and all three of us are back on Sontral celebrating the peace, which I'm sure will be just and long lasting for all."

We continued to talk for only a short time more before I bade Kronos and Adema goodnight and then made the lonely walk to my room to retire for the evening. On arrival I walked over to the window. It was dark now of course and the pattern of the stars in the sky was different to what it would be if I was viewing from Earth. And would you believe it... Tyros had two moons. One about the same size and distance away as our moon was from Earth, the other was smaller and further out. Considering where I was, I christened them the twins of evil. As I looked out of the window I thought, you twins of evil, staring down, surveying your creation; doing your evil bidding throughout galactic space. But be warned, your days are numbered; the reckoning is now at hand. You are about to fall from grace. Consigned to history never to return.

I briefly had the Kayton television on but it was all propaganda. They were showing footage of the thousands of captured Hellertron prisoners being marched through the big cities on Tyros. Then they showed a short video to music of their advance against the Hellertrons, which consisted mainly of smiling victorious Kaytons and Hellertron equipment going up in smoke. I will say one thing for them though, they knew how to sing and spin a good yarn. Doctor Goebbels would have been proud of them. After a few minutes I decided to call it a day, retire to bed and get as much rest as possible before the day of reckoning tomorrow. While I was waiting to nod off it occurred to me that even though the Solaran people were far more technologically advanced than Earth, they had not lost that all-important ability to treat people with the personal touch. Unlike on Earth, where technology now seemed to be the first point of contact in many walks of life, instead of a human being.

My back went once, but instead of seeing a Doctor face to face, they phoned me instead so I had to describe what happened over the phone, which I thought was very unsatisfactory. Anyway, in the end I at least got my anti-inflammatory tablets. Another time, they phoned me with some test results instead of telling me face to face. My local supermarket recently did away with all the manned tills. Now they are all self-service machines – how much more impersonal can you get? Sometimes they give you the wrong change but the staff are more inclined to believe the machine instead of the customer. My local library has also introduced a self-service machine to return books and book computer time but they must have taken pity on me as they still allow me to use their services on a face-to-face level so as not to lose that personal contact.

I once saw a programme on television about the workhouse. Oh, it was chilling. When the inmates had finished the work they were allocated, they lifted up a shutter and placed their laundry on a shelf and then pulled the shutter down. Only then did the bosses on the other side of the wall lift up their shutter to retrieve the laundry, after which they pulled the shutter down again so that there was no human contact between them and the workhouse inmates.

Can you see the parallels between now and then... how our modern technological terrors are starting to replicate behaviours and practices from the past by eliminating that all-important personal human contact? When I am sitting in the library reading a book, I cannot help but notice the younger generation playing for hours on end on the computers. They are glued to the screens as if their lives depended on it, having no interaction with real people, not to mention the lack of exercise and natural sunlight. It does make you wonder where it will all end. Are we creating a generation who are unable to cope with normal face-to-face situations with modern technology, like the workhouse in the past, eliminating human contact?

Back in the main living room, Adema and Kronos were in last minute discussions.

"I already have the security passes for tomorrow," Adema said. "One to gain entry to the Citadel, the other to gain access to the Drone command bunker itself. Once we have been cleared, the duty officer will then unlock an inner security door by punching a ten digit code into a key pad." Adema then produced a device which looked like a small mobile phone. "If, for whatever reason, something goes wrong," he explained, "place this decoder onto the keypad. It is magnetic, so will stay attached. Then press the one and only button. It will then do the rest, automatically decoding and unlocking the door within three minutes."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Kronos replied.

"I am confident it won't," Adema replied. "The Kaytons are getting very lax with their security systems. Especially now they think the war is as good as over. A large proportion of them are nursing hangovers from their three days of nation celebrations."

"What about the allocation of the Drone guards that John and I will be replacing?" Kronos asked. "How have you got around that?"

"Good question, Kronos. I have hacked into their system, making it appear that two guards will collect me from here and then escort me to the Citadel on my work detail. Obviously I have two guard uniforms for you and John. Harder to acquire were the laser rifles, but I eventually managed to get my hands on two. Don't ask me how I did it!"

Kronos laughed. "Well we always knew you were resourceful, Adema. That's one of the reasons you got the job in the first place."

"Huh, more like no one else was daft enough to take the mission on. Now, I have altered the two laser rifles to a more rapid rate of fire. The down side is they will burn out in a matter of minutes. But on the plus side, they will give out the fire power equivalent to a heavy machine gun."

"Excellent. Well done," Kronos replied. "You have thought of everything and covered every conceivable eventuality. I can ask no more of you."

"Thank you. But I must ask you... what are your thoughts on John? He has only had a matter of days to prepare."

"Oh, he will do it. Of that I have no doubt."

"Well, that is good enough for me," Adema said. "Does he know the significance of Earth?"

"Not yet," Kronos replied. "I will tell him when we get back to Sontral."

"Probably for the best. You don't want to pile any more pressure on him. Well, shall we call it a night?"

Kronos nodded. "Good idea."

Eighteen

As they both retired for the evening it was still relatively early so, unlike the Kaytons, all three of us would have a good night's rest. And what, you might ask, were all three of us dreaming about on that emotionally charged night?

Adema was dreaming of that time in the past when his wife was alive and his son had just graduated from the officer training academy. They were having a farewell party before his posting to the battle front which would take effect the following day. On that morning as they said their goodbyes, Adema told him not to take any unnecessary risks. Then that terrible day arrived when the news came of their son's loss. Adema swore vengeance as his wife screamed uncontrollably with grief.

What of Kronos that night? Well of course he was dreaming about his wife and children on his home planet and then the news came that Drakos had betrayed him, his family and his home planet. Also that night he was dreaming of the time he Transported himself behind the Kaytons' lines to one of their work colonies. He did not believe the stories the Solarans had told him that the Kaytons were putting captured Hellertron civilians to work in their war factories. He wanted to see the evidence for himself. And what a sight confronted him as he observed the scene from a safe distance. Endless columns of Hellertron civilians, including the old as well as the women and children, no distinction made... all being led into vast Nissen-hut-styled accommodation camps which were surrounded by armed fortified watch towers and also surrounded by electrified fences. Next to the camps were the war factories themselves where the Hellertrons would toil twelve hours a day, seven days a week. The whole valley, like the whole planet, was covered in the same repetitive complexes and it was also repeated in many other solar systems. Yes, the Kaytons wanted an empire and that empire would come from the former Hellertron territories, incorporating them into what they called their Greater Galactic Prosperity Sphere.

Oh, but there was more... a lot more to this colonisation. Once the war was won, the war factories would then be converted to produce cheap consumer goods for the Kaytons so as to rival the Solaran Commonwealth. When the process was complete the Kaytons would be the dominant political economic and military power in the galaxy with just about everyone else servicing their needs. So even when the war ended, there was to be no end in sight for the Hellertrons; just a lifetime of slavery to look forward to. As Kronos looked on at the pitiless columns of civilians, a small boy strayed slightly away from his parents. The Kayton sentry's guard dog which was on a leash, barked menacingly at him. The dog's name was Prince; he was the bad boy of the guard dogs. Even some of the Kayton guards were frightened of him. Only the guy who looked after all the dogs, the kennel master, could keep him in check. He loved the dogs; he doted on them. Many a time you could see him in the kennel compound on his knees with the dogs, or as he called them, his little babies, licking his face. Anyway, the boy immediately ran back to his parents, embracing his father, crying, "Papa, the dog barked at me!" His father replied, "It's alright, son, he only barked because you startled him. Don't worry, you're back with us now."

Immediately in front of that family was a very old woman. As the column came momentarily to a halt, a Kayton guard placed his truncheon directly under her chin. He then raised her head until his eyes met his.

"Mercy, mercy, please show mercy, sir," She begged.

The guard smiled. "Come on, keep moving. We're stocktaking; you're all going to do an honest day's work from now on."

Another guard shouted, "I've never seen a Hellertron get their hands dirty and do an honest day's work yet!"

"I used to work on a chicken farm before the war," the other guard said. "We tried to do a stock take on the chickens once but they ran too fast for us to count them, not like this lazy and shiftless lot. Counting them will be very easy."

All the guards started laughing as the column of hapless civilians continued their long trek into captivity. A statistical analysis report commissioned by the Solarans had conclusively proven beyond doubt that the Kaytons had more dudes than any of the three combatant powers. The only logical explanation was sabotage by the Hellertron slave labourers, so in their small way they indirectly saved the life of a Hellertron or Solaran soldier. If the Kaytons caught them, the punishment was an instant death sentence but it didn't stop them. If anything, it encouraged even more workers to commit sabotage.

Kronos then woke up from this nightmare, sweating profusely. After a while he calmed down and managed to get back to sleep, this time uninterrupted.

And what of me? What was I dreaming of on my one and only night on Tyros? I had been thinking of my parents a lot in the last few days so it was no surprise that I was dreaming about them, as I had done many times in the past. Sometimes when I woke up the following morning, I would forget what I had dreamt. But if I was lucky enough to remember, I would always say to myself it was an honour and a privilege to have seen them once again.

In the first part of the dream I was very young. I was making a snowman with my father, using pieces of coal for the eyes, nose and mouth. Yes it really was games without frontiers and war without tears. You could rework some more words from that particular song that would apply to the current situation. And the Kaytons built a bonfire and we all played with it. Next, I flashed to a time when I was older. My parents were saying to me, "If you put your mind to it, son, you can achieve anything you want in life."

I remember that I once had two girlfriends at the same time. My father asked, "Which one do you like the most?"

"The one I am with at the time," I replied.

My father said, "That is a good answer, son. You will go far."

Anyway, next I was in a room with both my parents. I ran over to greet and hug them, embracing them both very tightly to make up for all the years we had been parted. As I raised my head to look them both in the eyes, they were smiling.

My father said, "It's good to see you, son."

My mother said, "How are you, John?"

"I'm all right," I replied. "It's so good to see you both again, not a day goes by without me thinking about you." But there was no disguising my anxious tone of voice or worried appearance. My parents knew me too well for me to be able to pull the wool over their eyes.

"What's wrong, John?" my mother asked.

"I'm so frightened of what lies ahead for me," I replied. "I don't know if I possess the inner strength to go on."

My mother put her hand on my cheek and said, "Don't be frightened; your father and I will always be watching over you."

I smiled. "You are both angels now, aren't you, working for God?"

They both smiled, as did I but alas, my time with them was over all too quickly as I felt myself being shaken awake by Kronos. It was morning.

As I opened my eyes, he was saying, "John, wake up; it's time."

"Already?" I replied. "That soon passed. Don't I get a lie in?"

He smiled. "Not today, John."

He left me to get ready but as I lay there I kept saying to myself, I will just have five more minutes in bed before I get up. But after saying that a couple of times I could delay the inevitable no longer. I dragged myself out of bed, had a shower and then dressed in my black Drone army uniform that Adema had provided for me. Then I made my way into the kitchen for a drink and a bite to eat. I had Kayton porridge... and would you believe it? Just my luck, it was full of lumps. I'm telling you, if I backed a horse in a two-horse race you could guarantee that mine would come second. When I had finished I made my way into the main living room, saying good morning to Adema and Kronos who were both busy preparing for the mission.

Nineteen

Adema was packing the explosives and the decoder as well as the two Guardianship belts into the false bottom of his work trolley, which looked a bit like the ones they use in my local library to ferry the books. I noticed the trolley had no wheels; it was hovering above the ground, utilizing the same anti-gravity technology I had seen the Supreme Council members use on the guardian verification mission on New Canada. Kronos was checking the two laser rifles, handling them like a real professional, which of course he was. As for me, I just sat down on a chair, feeling sorry for myself. They say you get punished in this life for the sins you committed in your last life. All I can say is, I must have been a bad sod in my last life. My head was bowed and I must have looked like the dead-end kid of Tyros. I don't know how fear manifests itself in other people but in me, as well as feeling sick in my stomach, I also feel a pressure down on the back of my neck. Not a very pleasant combination to endure.

It did not take long for Adema and Kronos to notice the apathetic state of despondency I was descending into. They both looked at me and then at each other, after which they made their way over to me, Adema reaching me first.

He put his right arm around my shoulder. "Don't worry, John. Everything is going to be all right." He then leaned over and whispered into my ear, "I won't let anything happen to you."

I will never forget his smile. As I turned to face him I smiled back. "Thank you."

I then stood up to face Kronos who began to straighten my uniform, saying as he did so, "We will make a soldier of you yet, John. Are you ready?"

"Yes," I replied, looking him straight in the eye. "I am as ready as I will ever be."

"Good. Now John, listen to me. The only limit on your achievement in the future is the uncertainness of today. Remember what President Roosevelt said: the only thing to fear is fear itself."

Then it suddenly dawned on me. "You have been to Earth before, haven't you? Before my Guardianship activated itself."

"Yes, I have, John," Kronos replied. "Earth does hold a special place in the great scheme of things. I will tell you all about it when we get back to Sontral. But for the here and now, shall we be content to kick the hell out of the Kaytons and teach them a lesson they will never forget? I want to see you walk tall, show a bit of swagger and look as though you belong here on Tyros."

"I will go along with that sentiment," I replied.

We both placed our helmets on and grabbed our rifles and then the three of us made our way out of the villa with Adema pushing the trolley, saying, "Lights off." He then locked the door, after which we all made our way to the end of the drive and boarded a small vehicle that could seat four. It was like a maglev train system.

Adema then said, "Destination Citadel," and with that we were on our way.

As we started our journey, Kronos said, "No more talking for me and you now, John. Just silently follow any instructions Adema gives you."

"Okay," I replied. "Mum's the word."

On arriving at the main station our vehicle hooked up with many others that must have been going to the Citadel. Then, this time as one long train, we were on our way again. Not long into our journey, we skirted a big city. I thought to myself, You shining, shimmering, golden towers, swaying aimlessly in the wind. Personifying evil from their occupants within. Built on slavery on foundations of clay. Will they even be standing by the end of this momentous day? As I slip away into the distance I pray I will never see their likes again.

Yes, it was all built on fool's gold and slavery. I remember watching a programme once about ancient Greece. The historian was always banging on about Athens being the cradle of democracy. Maybe it was, but their system was also built on slavery with very little chance of earning your freedom... in other words, if you were born a slave you died a slave. I preferred ancient Rome. True, it had its fair share of slavery but unlike Athens, there were opportunities to earn your freedom and gain Roman citizenship. The most obvious example that came to mind was if you enlisted in the Roman army and served twenty-five years, you earned your citizenship and a plot of land or money to buy a small business. I think at one time half the population of Rome was descended from slaves, which speaks for itself and explains why the empire prospered and endured so long, laying the foundations of western law.

Our journey continued through beautiful, peaceful countryside for about twenty minutes and then I could hear a roaring sound to our left. It was then I realised that we were passing a military firing range. The equipment in use reminded me of an updated version of the Russian world war two Katyusha multi rocket launcher system. It even sounded like the Russian weapon. No wonder the Germans were so frightened of them... I think they nick-named it the Stalin organ. Oh the screeching noise as the rockets left the launchers – I wouldn't like to be a Solaran or a Hellertron soldier on the receiving end of that! But eventually peace and quiet was restored as we slipped past the firing range and were back on our journey through the countryside once again. Of course, during that time I thought about Freema and how much I longed to be with her. On the down side, it also crossed my mind that by now, the Kayton battle squadron must be less than twenty-four hours away from reaching Earth.

After about fifteen minutes I could see a range of mountains. We then entered a tunnel that cut through one of the mountains, emerging on the other side after about a minute. Oh and what a sight confronted me! I could see the dome which was the Citadel in the distance. Look at the size of it, I thought to myself. It was completely ringed by the mountains which I could see were bristling with missile and gun batteries, all of which were just a small part of a totally integrated global defence system, all geared to protecting the most important piece of real estate in the Kayton empire. On top of the dome was the control beacon which itself was a very tall structure. It reminded me of that building in Dubai, the one with the arched whalebone shaped ribs. But unlike the one in Dubai which housed apartments within its structure, this one was housing what I could best describe as a spoon-like spinning mechanism which of course was transmitting the signal to maintain control of the Drones throughout the Kayton Empire. I also noticed the four smaller beacons at ground level that were meant to kick in during maintenance or if there was a fault in the main beacon.

As we approached the Citadel proper I observed the Drone guards being put through their paces by the Kayton officers. Oh, there were hundreds of them on the parade ground. "Left, right, left, right," the Kayton officer barked, as they obeyed his orders to the letter. I think I mentioned before that my father was a boy during the German occupation of Holland during the war. He told me he used to watch the German soldiers being put through their paces in his home town of Apeldoorn. I think in German it was, 'links, boven, links, boven,' not 'left, right, left, right.' My father never liked the Germans for the rest of his life but even he commented on the discipline and training of the German army. He thought they were the best in the world, apart from the Dutch Marines, of course. The Canadians liberated Holland and my father also met the British and American troops. The only ones he didn't meet were the Russians so he had a lot of information to base his assessment on. As a fourteen-year-old boy in 1944 he even observed troops of the Waffen-SS. In fact, he knew what British intelligence had failed to detect in the run up to the battle of Arnhem. It must have been elements of the second SS Panzer Corps that he had seen. It was made up of the 9th and 10th SS Panzer Divisions Hohenstaufen and Frundsberg, commanded I think by General Bittrich, a former army officer who had transferred to the Waffen-SS. It had been formed in December 1942 and spent the whole of 1943 working itself up into a crack unit in occupied France near Alencon.

The corps had first gone into action in April of 1944 on the Russian front at the battle of Ternopol, when it launched an attack to relieve the first Panzer army which had been surrounded by the Russians. In a brilliant display of mobile tactics it extracted the first Panzer army quite briskly and was then put into strategical reserve in Poland until the allied landings in France. Afterwards it was transferred to the west where it took part in the bitter fighting in Normandy. It had then been sent to Holland for a complete rest and refit and was responsible for the allied airborne troops' defeat at Arnhem. My father said you could tell the Waffen-SS troops straight away because they wore different uniforms from the regular German army. He called them young fanatics. Also I think it is worth mentioning the German Commander of Army Group B, Field Marshall Walter Model, who also happened to have his headquarters in that area. He was one of Hitler's fighting Generals who he held in high regard. He had only recently been transferred from the Eastern front where he had just stabilised the front after the collapse of Army Group Centre, so there was on the spot coordination of the German forces.

After the battle, some of the British prisoners were marched through my father's home town on their way to the prisoner of war camps in Germany. His parents along with most of the residents of his home town gave the British soldiers water, cigarettes and whatever food they could spare. My father said it was the least they could do for them. They were in a terrible state after the vicious battle they had just been involved in. Thus, Holland had to endure another very harsh winter under the Germans, made all the more difficult because of the food and fuel shortages. His family didn't go hungry though, because his father knew quite a few farmers and did their accounts and other paperwork for them in return for food. But fuel was a problem. Once, my father, with his grandfather, was gathering wood when a German soldier caught them both. My father ran off and the soldier told his grandfather to stay where he was while he chased after my father but as soon as the German soldier was out of sight, he ran off home. As for my father, he outran the soldier but only just. As the Duke of Wellington said after the battle of Waterloo, it was a damned close run thing.

Another time, my father and his best friend saw an allied plane come down. They both reached the aircraft before the Germans and took out the machine gun and ran off with it. Later they wrapped it up in newspaper and cloth and buried it as deep as they possibly could. They never subsequently recovered it; so as far as anyone knows, it is still there.

Before the war my father saw the old German Kaiser Wilhelm ІІ who had been exiled to Holland at the end of the First World War. There are not many people left alive now who can say their dad saw the Kaiser. I saw a documentary about his life once. He was not in the least sorry for what he had done. He should have been extradited at the end of the war to be tried for war crimes. I know England did make discreet enquiries but the Dutch government turned down the request. He died in Holland on 16th June 1941, six days before the German invasion of Russia. The Germans got off far too lightly at the end of World War One. They should have been made to surrender unconditionally. The whole country should then have come under total military occupation as was done at the end of World War Two, so as to stamp out German militarism once and for all. I don't know about our General Haig, but I am sure that is what Marshall Foch and General Pershing wanted to do. It was the politicians who told them to accept more lenient terms.

My father also told me that before the war he used to watch the Dutch royal family who had a royal palace near my father's home town, hunting wild boar in the forest. They were vicious little creatures, especially when protecting their young. I think the royal palace is now open to the public as a stately home.

But alas, the time for reminiscing was over and the time for decisive action was now upon us as the train came to a halt at the station serving the Citadel.

Twenty

On Sontral it was just another morning in the S.I.S. Command and Control Centre buried deep underground in the government district. Agents were logging on and off as normal; it was just another nondescript day on the face of it. The room itself consisted of rows and rows of individual work stations each manned by a communications operative. On the front wall were a number of large screens that could display information or maps as and when required. Attached to the other three walls were observation balconies and there was also a large, open reception area as you entered the complex. Suddenly the security doors opened and in came Commander Vadoran.

"Oh, it's the boss," the supervisor said.

"Look who else is here," replied the deputy supervisor.

One by one, anybody who was anybody filed in, starting with the Prime Minister, closely followed by all the members of the cabinet, the military chiefs and the leader of the opposition in parliament. Even the Hellertron Ambassador, who looked very angry at being ordered out of bed at such short notice to attend this gathering, was there, still in his pyjamas and robe. And of course, intermingled with all these V.I.Ps were the people who had done so much and worked so tirelessly to make this moment possible: Freema, of course, along with professor Zinnerman, Chris and Alana.

As the last of the stragglers filed in, Commander Vadoran said to the head of the security detail, "As from this moment on I want a total lockdown of this complex. Nobody is to be allowed in or out unless they have my personal permission."

"Understood, sir." the officer replied.

The control room was then locked and sealed tight until further notice and then, turning towards the supervisor and her deputy, the Commander ordered, "Sign off with all our agents and clear the decks."

"Yes, sir," the supervisor replied, as they both scurried around every work station individually, instructing all the controllers to sign off.

The Foreign Secretary then said to the Chancellor, "I wonder what's so important to bring us all down here at such an early hour?"

Horace, who heard him, replied, "Something wonderful is going to happen... it's the Kultarn miracle."

"Oh Horace," the Foreign Secretary said, "you really must stop deluding yourself; you're going to make yourself poorly. I admit it is a special operation that is being mounted, probably the first one involving Guardian John with Kronos. I'm afraid at best the only miracle we can all hope for is that we don't all end up working in the Kayton war factories and the way things are going at the moment, that is looking more and more likely."

"If we do," the Chancellor said, "I want the bottom bunk."

"I thought you would," the Foreign Secretary replied. "Your request is duly noted."

Horace then looked them both in the eyes in turn. "You have got to have hope; you are both still at least able to hope, aren't you?"

No response came from either the Foreign Secretary or the Chancellor, apart from them both shaking their heads in disbelief.

Meanwhile, the Prime Minister had made his way up to the main balcony overlooking the reception area.

"Please could I have everyone's attention?" he asked.

A loud voice then bellowed from down below. "Do you know I am the Hellertron Empire's Ambassador to the Solaran Commonwealth and as such I do not expect to be ordered out of bed and summoned here at a moment's notice? I was not even allowed to get dressed or bring my close protection body guards with me!"

"I apologise to you unreservedly, your Excellency," the Prime Minister said, "but when I have finished explaining myself, you will understand why I had to go to such extraordinary lengths."

"You had better have a very good reason!" the Ambassador snapped back.

The Prime Minister continued. "I do believe today will turn out to be a truly historic day, because last night, thanks to this brilliant young man, Chris, and his assistant Alana," he gestured towards them, "Kronos and John successfully broke the Transdamping barrier and Transported themselves to Tyros—" gasps of disbelief emanated from the assembled crowd below and after a short pause, he continued, "where they rendezvoused with Adema, our deep cover agent. Now it took many years to get an operative on Tyros and countless brave men died in the attempt, as indeed many brave men and women have died in this terrible war. But during the time Adema has been on Tyros, he has had access to all the Kaytons' vital installations in the Citadel itself, including one that we are particularly interested in. He has drawn up a workable plan. Also, he has managed to amass enough explosives and weapons and if all goes as expected, in less than half an hour the three of them will launch an attack on the Drone Command Bunker. Their aim is to knock out the power to the control beacon, killing the signal at source, which will in turn precipitate a rebellion in what is, after all, seventy percent of their armed forces. After which, in conjunction with our Hellertron allies, we will hopefully hit the Kaytons with all our available armed forces so as to take full advantage of the situation in what I have designated Operation Marita. As you are all aware, Marita is the Kultarn word for punishment and that is exactly what we are going to mete out to the Kaytons once we have received confirmation of the mission's success. And yes, we can end the war in a day; that is the glittering prize that awaits the successful outcome of the mission. I am sure that all our hopes and prayers will be with the three of them for the successful outcome of the mission and their safe return to Sontral."

Now to describe the reaction to the Prime Minister's statement as astonishment from the assembled crowd in the reception area would be an understatement. It took a while for the full impact to sink in. The reaction was universal:

"I am the Minister for War Production; I had no idea what was going on."

"I'm the Chief of General Staff; nobody told me a thing. I was left completely in the dark."

The leader of the opposition slowly and apprehensively made his way over to the Prime Minister. With his head down and tail between his legs he looked like the dead-end politician of Sontral.

"I'm sorry Mister Prime Minister," he said, "for giving you such a hard time in Parliament. I hope you will accept my unreserved apology."

"No need to apologise," the Prime Minister replied. "I would have followed exactly the same course of action if I had been in your shoes. Although, when victory is won and peace restored, I would appreciate cross party cooperation on the massive reconstruction and recovery programme that will be required to rebuild a shattered, war-torn galaxy. Bringing the war to an end is not enough; we must win the peace as well by laying the foundations for a peaceful and prosperous future for all."

"I can assure you, Mister Prime Minister, you will have my full cooperation in the mammoth task that will face the commonwealth once the war is over," the opposition leader replied.

With that exchange they parted company. The Hellertron Ambassador then approached Commander Vadoran.

"Yes, Mister Ambassador," the Commander said, "what can I do for you?"

With a smile, the Ambassador replied, "This has your fingerprints all over it. All the hallmarks. I bet you conceived and planned this operation from its very beginning."

"Very perceptive of you, Mister Ambassador."

"We have had the speeches," the Ambassador replied, "but now I want some straight, honest answers from you. This is a very risky operation to mount, even for very experienced operatives. John is no soldier, so realistically, in your professional opinion, what do you think their chances of success are?"

Freema was close enough to hear everything that was being said.

"I would give them a fifty-fifty chance of pulling it off and getting back to Sontral safely," The Commander replied.

After pausing for a moment the Ambassador replied, "I would take those odds every time. The potential reward is worth the risk. Thank you for being so candid with me, Commander."

"Glad to have been of service to you Mister Ambassador, but you must excuse me now. I still have a great deal of work to be getting on with."

As they parted company, the Commander made his way over to the floor supervisor and her assistant. Addressing them both, he said. "Who is our nearest active operative to Tyros?"

"We have an operative on Raygel in the Quadrain system," the supervisor replied. "It is used as a military staging post to the various battle fronts. He is one of our best agents. He has built up a planet-wide network of operatives as well as a resistance movement. We have had some good information from him on Kayton troop movements."

"If the mission is a success," the Commander said, "then logically, Raygel would be the first place to notify us of the rebellion taking place. When it does, put the transmission on speaker and then as soon as confirmation comes, contact all our agents and resistance movements in the outer systems as quickly as possible. I calculate it will take four to five minutes for the Drone signal failure to reach that far. At least it will give our operatives a little time to prepare for what's coming."

"Yes, sir," the supervisor replied.

On the upper balcony level, the Chief of General Staff, General Siliax, approached the Prime Minister. He directed the military campaign against the Kaytons, obviously under political control, but essentially he ran the day-to-day operations. He had started out as a private soldier and then worked his way through the ranks after attending the officer training academy. His rise was meteoric. He was a soldier's soldier who knew how the ordinary man felt and they in turn respected him. He was the third most powerful man in the Solaran Commonwealth after the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran. He had developed D.A.R.A.D.S that is Depth and Resources Active Defense System, which was basically defence in depth. That is, multiple lines of defence which the troops could fall back on one by one as the situation dictated. Having depth and resources was the key to the strategy; the depth to soak up an enemy attack and take the sting out of it and then the resources to subsequently push the enemy back to their start lines. Not all the battle fronts, like Ganeymon, for example, had the full network but the majority had at least a partial system in place. The strategy of course relied heavily on stockpiling huge amounts of ammunition behind the various front lines. But as the General was all too aware, in a matter of months the resources would start to run out, so nullifying his strategy. Since the Hellertron collapse he had issued a special order of the day, Not One Step Back. The fronts were to be held at all costs as there were no reserves left with which to plug the gaps.

As he approached the Prime Minister, he did have one very big worry on his mind if the mission was a success, but for now he kept his concerns to himself.

"General Siliax," the Prime Minister said, "I must apologize for not keeping you properly informed but we had to restrict people in the know to as few as possible for obvious security reasons. I hope you understand."

"Fully, Mister Prime Minister," the General replied. "And there is one consolation to our precarious position... we don't have to worry about moving reserves up to the front line to launch operation Marita. There are none. Everything is already committed so when the order is given for our forces to attack we will be able to move at a moment's notice."

"Good," said the Prime Minister. "Now I will leave you to your preparations."

Now the scene on the lower ground level had to be seen to be believed as Statler and Waldorf, or as I should correctly call them, the Foreign Secretary and the Chancellor, were making a fuss over Horace.

"Here you are, Horace," the Foreign Secretary said, "I have got you a chair to sit down on so you can rest your legs and the Chancellor has got you a blanket. Would you like tea and biscuits?"

"Oh, yes please," Horace replied. "Milk and two sugars."

"I will get the tea," the Foreign Secretary said. "Mister Chancellor, you go and get Horace his favorite biscuits."

"Yes, Mister Foreign Secretary."

They both sped off to complete their various tasks, returning in double quick time to tuck Horace up in his blanket and make sure he was comfortable.

Both had their heads bowed in shame, the Chancellor nodding in agreement as the Foreign Secretary said, "Horace we are both very sorry for the unforgivable things we said to you and the way we have both treated you. Can you find it in your heart to forgive us both?"

"Of course I can," Horace replied. "It's already been forgotten; we all say things in the heat of the moment that we don't mean."

"You were right, though," the Foreign Secretary admitted. "You were right all along about the Kultarn miracle coming to pass."

Horace smiled. "Well, I did have a little whisper in my ear as to what might be about to happen." All three of them smiled at that comment as preparations continued apace for what was about to happen.

Twenty-one

On Tyros, there was a bit of an anticlimax for me after our train had come to a halt on the main platform. Only the first ten carriage doors opened for their occupants to detrain and pass the security gate. After a few minutes the process was repeated. I was thinking to myself, I wish they would get a move on; let's get it over with. Then at last, third time lucky, our carriage door opened as all three of us stepped out and made our way along the platform to negotiate the check point to enter the Citadel proper. The tension was palpable as we stood in line. Then at last it was our turn... and would you believe it, the guard manning the check point knew Adema.

"Good morning, Adema. Working the weekend to get some overtime in? The tax man will like you." He checked Adema's security pass on his computer verification system.

Adema then replied, "The upkeep of my villa in the country is expensive. I need all the extra hours I can get. I'm afraid there is no peace for the wicked. I picked up my security detail on departure."

"I wish everyone was as efficient as you, Adema."

After our pass cleared, the guard handed it back to Adema and waved us through. We then entered the Citadel proper. Oh and what a sight it was that befell me. The first thing that struck me was the ceiling. Even though it was an enclosed dome with an artificial sky effect, you couldn't tell that it was not real. The nearest thing I had seen that even came close to it was the artificial sky in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Disneyland in Anaheim, California. But that was a night time sky, not a daytime effect, which must have been much harder to create.

After we had walked a few yards we stepped onto one of those moving walkways like you find at airports, but these were much wider and many times longer, linking different parts of the Citadel together. As we passed each different building I wondered what important facility it housed. I couldn't turn my head from side to side; I just kept looking straight ahead, fixated on the job in hand. And then, would you believe it, like a recurring nightmare, who should be coming the opposite way along the adjacent walkway... yes, it was Drakos, accompanied by two of his Lieutenants.

All three of them were laughing and joking as they passed us, seemingly with not a care in the world. I could only begin to imagine what was going through Kronos's mind. Anyway, with a bit of luck, he and his kind would soon be six foot under. Straight downstairs for him and his kind, of that I had no doubt, to join the new crop of stokers for Old Nick and I hoped he would work them twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for eternity.

At last, after what seemed to be an age, we stepped off the walkway and headed towards the Drone Command Bunker proper. Now to say fear was starting to grip me would be an understatement. You just have to try to think about other things and not let it get the better of you. As the three of us moved ever closer, it reminded of the end scene in the 1969 feature film, The Wild Bunch, with the four main characters played by William Holden, Ernest Borgnine, Warren Oates, and Ben Johnson. The four of them had just left... shall we call it a house of ill repute, and were making their way to get their comrade, Angel, back from the tin pot General and his drunken men. On arrival at the scene the General killed Angel but William Holden's gang killed the General and then there was an almighty battle. Obviously the four of them tried to gain control of the machine gun, but did you notice another subtle tactic they employed? They eliminated all the officers first so as to knock out the men's command and control system, leaving them leaderless. If all four could have got to the machine gun they might have done even better, say one man on the gun with two men covering both entrances, with one man as a floater to cover the roof and help out the other two as and when needed. As it was, only two managed to make it to the machine gun. Then, after those two were lost, the other two took over for a while until they in turn were lost. Mind you, they made the tin pot army pay a very heavy price for its victory. It was certainly one of the best action films I have ever seen.

Anyway, the Drone command bunker entrance itself reminded me of an Egyptian pyramid but with the top portion missing. The irony was not lost on me – this place could end up being my tomb. I thought to myself, we were already deep within the nest of vipers and now we were about to enter the pit of hell. We entered the building unchallenged by the two Drone guards who stood on either side of the entrance door. Down, down, ever deeper we descended, into the pit of Hell with seemingly no end, to take on evil in a battle that would decide all, and if we prevailed, as I so hoped, peace would be restored, not just for some but for all.

Then after a short time there was a welcome voice. It was the first time Kronos had spoken since we left Adema's residence.

"John, this is it. Get through here and we're in."

After a few more seconds we entered the reception area. To the right was the reception desk, manned by one guy with the same verification pass equipment that the first check point had used. Two Drone guards flanked him. To our left there were two more Drone guards, one either side of the inner security door which was, of course, still firmly locked. Behind the main reception desk, four Kayton officers were seated at a table and, would you believe it, they were all playing cards. One of them was even complaining about his hangover from the night before. Behind them, further back to the left, was the entrance to a guard house which presumably housed an indeterminate number of Drone guards. As we came to a halt at the reception desk I was standing to the left of Adema and Kronos was on his right.

"Good morning," Adema said. "I'm on a maintenance detail, checking the connections to the power couplings in the main control centre."

"Good morning," the receptionist replied. "I will just check your pass and then book you in."

At that very moment, the Kayton officer who had his back to us, stood up and made his way over to the reception desk. He was not suffering from the effects of alcohol from the night before, in fact he looked as sharp as a razor. Oh, he looked a nasty piece of work... the sort of person you would not want to meet in a dark alley late one night.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"I'm on a maintenance detail," Adema repeated, "checking the connections to the power couplings in the main control centre."

"I don't know anything about a maintenance detail scheduled for today," the officer said. "Nobody has informed me."

As he grabbed the security pass to examine it closer, the receptionist interceded. "The pass has cleared. I was just about to book them in."

Then one of the other Kayton officers, who was sitting at the table playing cards, shouted, "Come on, hurry up. I've got a good hand here!"

"All right, keep your hair on. I will just see them through the main security door."

He handed the security pass back to the receptionist who then said to Adema, "Oh, these military types! They are all the same, aren't they? I will just book you in and then you can be on your way."

"I know," Adema replied, tutting in agreement with the receptionist.

As for me, the tension was so great I thought I was going to snap in half. I didn't realise I was starting to sweat until one drop, emanating from my right temple, started to roll down my face.

The Kayton officer was staring directly at me and his expression suddenly turned to one of shock and horror as he spotted the bead of sweat running down my cheek. He went for the hand gun in his waist holster, shouting as he did so, "Intruders!" He took aim and fired one shot in my direction.

Adema, who was closest to me and also fully aware of what was happening, shouted, "No!" throwing himself in front of me and wrapping his arms tightly around me as he did so. It all seemed surreal to me, playing itself out in slow motion, or so it appeared from my perspective.

I looked Adema in the face as he was silhouetted against the white flash of light illuminating him as the laser shot struck him in the back like a bolt of lightning from behind. Death for him must have been instantaneous.

I tell you what, I thought, killing Adema was the biggest and last mistake that Kayton officer ever made. Even before Adema and I hit the floor, Kronos had unslung his rifle and taken aim, shooting the Kayton officer right between the eyes. He hit the deck like a sack of potatoes. Events for me then began to move at normal speed again.

Now I thought Freema was quick with a gun, but I can assure you Kronos was even quicker. In rapid succession, he downed the four Drone guards in the reception area before they could make a counter move. Next it was the turn of the three Kayton officers sitting at the table. They didn't even have time to stand up. The receptionist was taken out, but not before he had set off the alarm which must have been located just underneath the counter.

A row of vertical multi-coloured lights on the wall flashed as the alarm began to sound with ever-increasing volume. It was deafening. The Drones in the guard house then began pouring out as Kronos put them all to the sword just as quickly as they appeared until their numbers were entirely depleted. Next, he switched to his right to take out the two Drone guards that had been guarding the main entry door when we entered the building. He then shot the alarm display on the wall and all then momentarily fell silent.

As for me, I sat on the floor, cradling Adema in my arms. I was traumatised and frozen in utter shock, staring aimlessly ahead of me into empty space. I just said softly to myself, "Oh my God, what have I done?"

Kronos then headed towards the reception room entry security doors. If he could close them and jam them shut before the Drone guards arrived he could buy some precious time to figure out his next move. As he did so, he could see hordes of Drones pouring down the corridor. He just carried on moving, saying to himself, "Oh, ye mother of Heaven," as he opened fire, at the same time moving towards the security doors.

They fell in their droves. He was helped by the fact that the Drones behind were starting to trip up and fall over the ones that had already been downed. Just as he reached the doors a stray shot hit Kronos in the upper leg. I heard him yell in agony. But he controlled his pain as he pressed the button for the doors to slam shut and then fired a shot at the lock mechanism to jam it so that it could not be manually reopened. Immediately, as there was no time to lose even though he was in terrible pain, he slung his rifle back over his shoulder and then dragged himself over to the work trolley. From the false bottom, he recovered the decoder, which he then proceeded to place on the key pad, located on the wall. He then activated it. Hopefully, in less than three minutes, it would decode and unlock the inner security door to give us access to the Command Bunker proper. You could hear it ticking over as it patiently did its job.

Kronos then made his way back to the trolley where he recovered our two guardianship belts and the rucksack which contained the explosives and detonator. He fastened his own guardianship belt around his waist and then, carrying my belt and the rucksack, he made his way over to me. He looked down at me in a pitiful manner.

"Come on, John, there is nothing you can do for Adema now."

I looked up at him. "He took the bullet that was meant for me. He laid down his life so that I could live."

"Yes, he did it because you're a Guardian and because he knew you had a very important job to do. So don't let his sacrifice be in vain; let's finish the job we have started. We can still pull it off, but you have got to move right now. Come on, here is your belt and rucksack. Now get yourself kitted up."

Outside the main bunker structure, hordes of Drones were gathered with their Kayton officers in attendance. Drakos then arrived with his son as well as his two Lieutenants and Wesker in tow.

"What the hell is going on?" Drakos asked.

The officer told him that the two Guardians had broken the Transdamping barrier. "With the help of a traitor," he added, "they have penetrated as far as the reception area of the Drone command bunker—"

"But the Transdamping barrier cannot be broken," Wesker interrupted. "It can't be."

"Well they have done," the officer insisted.

"I would like to meet the man who pulled it off," Wesker replied.

Drakos then said, "Is that inner security door still firmly locked?"

"Yes," the officer confirmed.

"Good. Then we have got them."

At that moment a member of the Supreme Kayton Council arrived on his anti-gravity disc and everyone bowed their heads. As he acknowledged their respect with a gesture of his right hand, they raised them again as he spoke.

"The full Council has discussed the situation thoroughly. The Guardians may have broken the Transdamping barrier, but now they are trapped. They won't even be able to move to another part of Tyros. The inner security door is firmly locked but even if they do manage to get as far as the main control room, they will never be able to penetrate that magnamite shield casing, I don't care what explosives they possess. The traitor has already been eliminated. Kronos has been wounded to such an extent he can barely walk. The remaining Guardian is apparently so traumatised that he is frozen in a state of paralytic shock. Drakos, your orders are to kill Kronos on sight, but the new Guardian is to be captured alive if possible. Whoever presents the Supreme Council with Kronos's Guardianship belt will be very handsomely rewarded."

"Consider it done," Drakos replied. "We will be back in the bunker complex in a matter of minutes, bringing this whole sorry business to a successful conclusion very quickly."

"Good." The Council member waved a hand. "Carry on."

Drakos, with his son and two Lieutenants, led the way to the main bunker entrance to supervise proceedings. Not Wesker, though. He was the only one with a look of foreboding on his face. Now on the balance of probabilities, all was seemingly safe with the situation soon about to be restored. But he hadn't acquired the nickname of Slippery for no reason; he was going to hedge his bets and cover himself just in case the unthinkable happened, and slowly backtracked to a more secure location, preferably where there were not large concentrations of Drones. Yes, it is true... cowards never die; they just slip away into obscurity, only to turn up again later like a bad penny.

Twenty-two

On Sontral in the S.I.S. command centre, everyone was waiting in silence for news of any kind, whether it be good or bad. Such was the anticipation. A message then came through the supervisor, who passed it on to Commander Vadoran. He in turn made his way over to the Prime Minister.

"Yes, what is it, Commander?" asked the Prime Minister.

"Our long range listening stations have picked up a massive increase in radio traffic on Tyros, all encrypted of course. But it does lead us to believe that at least the attempt is being made."

"Thank you, Commander. Keep me informed of any further developments."

On Tyros, in the reception area of the Drone command bunker, I very slowly and ever so gently laid Adema on the floor, closing his eyes and saying as I did so, "Goodbye, you dear, kind man. I hope you are at peace now and reunited with your wife and son." Then I put my Guardianship belt on as well as the rucksack and grabbed my laser rifle, strapping it over my shoulder. I then started to make my way over to Kronos. As I did so, the inner security door suddenly opened. The decoder had done its job. The door must have been at least a metre thick and made of pure magnamite.

"Good," said Kronos. "We're in. Now you make your way down to the main control room and do what you've been trained to do. I will hold them for as long as I can, then I will fall back on successive defence lines as I hit and run, stall and retreat, until I meet you back in the main control room. By then the rebellion should be well underway and we can sit it out until things quieten down."

As I walked over to him I thought to myself that my grasp of military tactics was weak in the extreme, but even I could see he was in no condition to fulfill his expectations. He could barely walk, never mind run. He was trying to pull the wool over my eyes, or to coin a phrase of an old friend of mine called Ken, he was trying to blind me with science, and I wasn't having it.

Once I reached him, I replied, "You're in no fit state. You can barely walk, never mind run. I will stay and follow your strategy; you go down and plant the charges."

Just at that moment, the Kaytons started cutting through the outer security door with what I could only describe as laser cutting equipment. And not in one place, but two... the bottom left and the bottom right hand corner of the door, cutting upwards in an arch shape to meet in the upper middle of the door. This must have given him extra encouragement as, instantly and with both hands, he grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me like a rag doll. The whiplash was so vigorous I thought my head was going to fly off. He really frightened me, and I think it was intentional – a shock designed to make me fall into line.

"I can't, John. You are right. I can barely walk, never mind run. Now listen, John, there is very little time left. I got you into this mess and now I am trying my best to get you out of it alive. You are going to go down into that control room and kill those technicians with no hesitation and then you are going to plant the charges correctly. Then you are going to do as much damage to those control panels as you can with your laser rifle, after which you had better start praying it works before this lot get to you."

"I'm sorry—"

"No, John. There is no time for recriminations or regrets. I do believe the best is yet to come from you. Very shortly, I am convinced you will be witness to some truly astonishing events. Now go, before I change my mind."

"Goodbye," I said, as he pushed me away.

"Go on, John! No more looking back, only forward. Now run like the devil himself is chasing you!"

As I began to run as fast as my legs would carry me, Kronos turned towards the entrance door to prepare himself for what was about to come. I could not even begin to imagine, let alone understand what was going through his mind as the seconds counted down to the laser cutters meeting and all hell breaking loose. But alas, that moment came all too quickly as the cutters met and the door fell forward with an almighty crash as hordes of Drones attempted to pile through.

Kronos had the initial advantage but it couldn't be maintained indefinitely as the sheer weight of numbers began to tell. Even the Drones had learnt from their past mistakes by jumping over their fallen comrades instead of falling over them as previously. He could feel his rifle heating up with the continuous fire as it began to burn out. Then the inevitable occurred as he was hit twice in quick succession. Falling to the floor, he was no more for this world. But at least he had taken a good number of Drones with him. It was a shame Drakos was not amongst them but at least he had bought some valuable time, which could prove crucial.

The Drones poured through, continuing their pursuit of me through the inner security door and on down the connecting corridor to the Drone command bunker proper. And when this momentous episode was all over, who should come strolling in with seemingly not a care in the world, but Drakos with his son and two Lieutenants. First he surveyed the scene of utter carnage around him and then he walked over to Kronos and nudged him a couple of times with his right foot, smiling.

"Ah, you're not such a big man now, are you? Daymar, remove his Guardianship belt. You can have the honour of presenting it to the Supreme Council, for which they will reward you handsomely."

"Yes, Father." Daymar obeyed with a smile and reached down to retrieve the Guardianship belt but as soon as his hand made contact with it, the belt flared up into an intense fireball. Worse still, the yellow and orange fireball began to consume Daymar at an ever-increasing pace. He yelled out in pain, but to no avail. Drakos lunged forward to try and help him but his two Lieutenants forcefully held him back, one of them saying, "No, Drakos! If you touch him you could go up the same way."

As the flames mercilessly accomplished their aim until nothing remained of Daymar but a pile of ashes, I suppose you could say there was some sort of poetic justice in play. Drakos had taken away everything Kronos had loved. Now, in death, Kronos had destroyed the only thing in life that Drakos cared about. Yes, it is a funny old galaxy, isn't it? What goes around comes around; whatever evil you perpetuate you can guarantee that one day you will be paid back in kind.

When it was all over and his two Lieutenants had released their grip, Drakos said, "I am personally going to kill that remaining Guardian and destroy and eliminate all he stands for." He then began to run down the tunnel to the main bunker complex, closely pursued by his two Lieutenants.

As for me, I could hear, at least for a while, the ensuing gun fire being exchanged in the reception area but after a time even that noise abated, leaving me in silence with only my own thoughts for solace, which were a mixture of fear and rage. I then remembered what Freema had said to me once during one of my training sessions. 'Control your thoughts and by controlling your thoughts you can control your actions, concentrate on what you are doing, not on what other people are doing.' At last I could see the bunker entrance coming up in the distance so I gathered my thoughts and readied myself for the task ahead. As I ran the last few yards I repeated a couple of times the inscription that was on my Guardianship belt. After all, it was supposedly a Kultarn war cry: Ishtar Racnar Tacknar Heyah. Then I was in the Control Bunker proper. Would you believe it, all the technicians, unarmed, middle-aged men, were huddled together in the middle of the floor like a group of penguins. I needed no encouragement. I let them have it with a vengeance, spraying them remorselessly with my laser rifle.

The first shot clipped one of the technicians on the arm. He fell, but began to crawl across the floor. The rest of them tried to scatter but the field of fire was so rapid and intense that every one of them was downed in a matter of seconds. Some of the stray shots even hit the control panels. I thought, well at least that will be less work for later on.

I briskly walked over to the downed technician who was trying to crawl away from me as quickly as his condition would allow. He was begging for mercy. I gave him the same mercy that Adema and Kronos had been given, which was absolutely none. I fired one solitary shot into his back after which his head slammed hard onto the floor with a thud. If truth be told, I actually enjoyed it, feeling that at last I was able to effectively hit back instead of just being a passive spectator as I had been up until that moment. All was now quiet as I surveyed the control room and found my bearings. It was identical to the mock-up back on Sontral, the only difference being the real thing behind the main control panel was a see through Perspex screen. Behind it, stretching as far as the eye could see, were rows upon rows of power generators. Red and blue in colour, they were apparently powered by an underground river system, a perpetual source of hydroelectric power at the Kaytons' fingertips.

I made my way over to one of the main supporting pillars, placing my rifle against it and then took my rucksack off and opened it. I noticed then that I was sweating like a pig and my hands were shaking like tree branches in the autumn wind. I shook my head to get myself under control. Then, as I had been trained to do with the rucksack, I ran over to the control panels, methodically placing the four charges in the correct positions at the power relay points, working my way from left to right as I did so. Then I scurried back behind the supporting pillar, adopting a secure position. I took out the detonator and then discarded the rucksack. "Right," I said as I pressed down the arm button. The plunger then appeared and I pressed it firmly in. "This is it," I said as I released it just as quickly, after which there was an almighty explosion as the shape charges punched their way remorselessly through the power relay systems. The noise was deafening but even before the dust and smoke had settled, I dropped the detonator. Then I grabbed my rifle and stepped out from behind the supporting pillar and methodically began to spray the control panels, working my way as before, from left to right. Sparks were flying as well as mini-explosions taking place.

"Come on, come on," I kept saying to myself as this part of my assignment came to its inevitable conclusion. Then at that precise moment I saw movement from the corner of my left eye. It was the first of the Drones appearing. They had finally caught up with me. I quickly turned to my left, depressing the trigger mechanism of my rifle to its maximum for the most rapid rate of fire so as to give me the initial tactical advantage. But these weren't unarmed middle-aged technicians; they were all members of the elite first strike division. With it being a relatively narrow entrance I was downing a good number of them. I was stepping back slowly at the same time to put as much distance as possible between me and them. But time and space was running out.

"Oh, frig this," I said to myself and then I shouted, "Why aren't they rebelling?" as my back was now very close to the main control panels. Then one of those crafty Drones dived to the floor as he entered the room. He took aim at me and fired one shot that hit me in my upper right arm. I yelled out in pain, my rifle flying out of my arms and ending up on the floor many yards away. As for me, I was lying on the floor with my back propped up against one of the main control panels. It had only grazed me, but it felt like someone had placed a red hot poker on my arm. I knew then what my Aunty Lucy had felt like. My mother had told me that during the war, Lucy used to date the American soldiers but she was coming home far too late for her father's liking. He used to wait behind the front door for her with a red hot poker and then when she arrived home, he was ready for her. He chased her up the stairs, telling her that he would teach her to stay out late with American service men.

As for me, I was no sooner sitting helpless on the floor than who should come flying out of the shadows into the main control area, but Drakos. At that moment everything seemed surreal and went into slow motion again as had happened before in the main reception area with Adema. The only explanation I can offer for this experience is that I think when you are directly threatened, the brain automatically switches to this mode.

As Drakos ran towards me he said, "Blade out." His right fist was clenched as a laser-like blade extended from what looked like a watch but was worn reversed so that the round mechanism was on his pulse on his wrist. The laser blade itself was exactly the same length and width as a knitting needle as it extended menacingly from his cuff. Events for me now started to move at normal speed again as Drakos raced towards me, yelling as he did so.

He was just about to lunge his blade into my face when a loud voice shouted, "Halt! Stand back immediately. Drakos, stand down, that's a direct order."

The voice came from a member of the Supreme Council who was a few yards away from us, hovering about six feet above the ground on his anti-gravity disc.

Drakos came to a halt with his blade only a few inches away from my right eye. I briefly stared directly at him and then I spat in his face.

"That," I said, "is from Kronos, you traitor to your own kind."

"I will have you soon enough, Guardian," he replied. "You can mark my words on that." He smiled and waved the blade in front of my face and then wiped his face clean as he walked back a few yards before coming to a stop in front of the Drone that had shot me. He was flanked on either side by his two Lieutenants, still with his laser blade extended, ready to finish what he had started as soon as the appropriate order was given by his masters.

All the time this was playing out, hordes of Drones and Kaytons were pouring in to form a semi-circle around me, pointing their weapons in my direction as they did so.

In the S.I.S command centre, everyone was still anxiously waiting for that all-important verification message from Raygel, but to no avail. There was just a stony silence. They say no news is good news... well, not so in this case as some people began to lose hope, the Foreign Secretary remarking to the Prime Minister, "It's been too long; we should have heard something by now."

"You don't know that," the Prime Minister replied. "You've got to give them more time."

After that exchange, everyone was looking even more anxious than before. The Chief of General Staff, General Siliax, kept saying to himself, "Come on, come on."

Horace who was on the lower level could be heard, at least by some, whispering the Lord's Prayer. Freema could only wait helplessly, hoping all the time for the best.

On the upper left hand balcony, Chris grabbed hold of Alana's hand tightly and smiled as she returned the compliment. Professor Zinnerman, who had noticed, smiled in approval. At least there was one happy story unfolding amid all this turmoil.

Oh, and there standing on his own on the lower level, was the Hellertron Ambassador in his pyjamas and dressing robe. I suppose he was now just a mirror image of how far the Hellertron Empire had sunk, fighting this debilitating war. With very little dignity left, broke and militarily bankrupt, you wouldn't think that at one time the Hellertrons were regarded as the natural successors to the Kultarn legacy, being the leaders in new technological advances and enriching the galaxy with their art and culture. Now it was all too reminiscent of Oliver Twist, but in this version it was the Hellertrons holding out the begging bowl to the Solarans, asking for aid in ever-increasing amounts to keep them afloat. Oh dear, what a once mighty empire had been reduced to. Although he was still upbeat, he was thinking about the Hellertrons' equivalent of Operation Marita which had been formulated in conjunction with the Solarans some time ago in the event they could successfully jam the signal that was being transmitted to the Drones. Like the Solarans, they had given it a Kultarn name. Their version was called Operation Verenfunken, which was the Kultarn word for vengeance and that was exactly what he hoped his people would be exacting on the Kaytons before very long. The Kaytons had conquered over half of the Hellertron Empire, pillaging, looting and enslaving them as they went. Now the ambassador thought it would soon be our turn to give the Kaytons some payback as he stood there waiting intently for that all-important news to come through.

Commander Vadoran was just standing passively, hands behind his back, showing no outward sign of emotion. He just stared straight ahead at the viewing screens.

The Foreign Secretary said to the Chancellor, "Oh, look at Commander Vadoran; his icy cold exterior gives nothing away."

The Chancellor nodded in agreement.

Twenty-three

Back on Tyros, the beacon on top of the Citadel was still turning just as fast as before, continuing to spin its web of evil and subjugation throughout the Galaxy. As for me, I was just sitting there, completely helpless and in utter disbelief as to what had just transpired. Dejected and defeated as well as thoroughly exhausted, I bowed my head in utter disappointment, saying to myself, "It hasn't worked not; enough damage has been done. All the sacrifice has been for absolutely nothing."

Then I heard that familiar humming sound again. It was another member of the Supreme Council appearing on the scene. I slowly raised my head at the same time as his anti-gravity disc lowered itself to the same height as his colleague. Now both of them were side by side, just a few yards away, facing me. As this was happening, all the Kaytons and Drones bowed their heads in obeisance until he gestured for them to raise them again. I was convinced he was one of those three whom I had seen on New Canada on the Guardian verification mission. The three that I had christened the three stooges. I just couldn't figure out for the life of me if it was Larry, Mo or Curly that stood before me.

He looked to his left as some of the Drones I had killed were still being carried out, then turned back to me and said, "Guardian John, you fought a very brave battle against overwhelming odds and for that we salute you. But ultimately you were foredoomed to failure. You cannot take on the might of the Kayton Empire and win, any more than the Solarans or Hellertrons can. The traitor and Kronos are dead and you have achieved absolutely nothing. You are now completely at our mercy—"

I interrupted. "Even in death, either one of them was more of a man than any of you lot will ever be. You're not fit to lick their boots."

Drakos was smiling, no doubt thinking to himself, if you carry on like that, John, you will be signing your own death warrant.

"Personal comments are neither here nor there," the Council member replied. "What matters now is what is going to happen from here on. Now the war is nearly over and victory assured, we can afford to be magnanimous to that end. After much discussion in the Supreme Council, we have agreed to make you a once-only offer. Join us. If you do, you can have a seat on the Supreme Council. It would not be for show, you would be able to influence decisions. We know the Solarans are getting war weary and are close to opening peace negotiations with us. If you join us, they will surely follow suit and together we can fulfill our true place and destiny together in the Galaxy. It is our presence in the Galaxy that will inspire future generations. The fact that we have conquered a massive empire will be an inspiration and example to all that follow us. We never wanted war with the Solarans in the first place; we have only ever wanted peace and friendship with them."

I thought to myself that nobody could accuse them of being a shy and modest people. I remember when I worked at Lewis's department store in Leeds city centre. I was friends with the doorman, Bill. He was stationed in the Orkney Islands during the war and very boring it was, he told me. Anyway, when he came back to Leeds on leave, he used to go for a drink to the Market Tavern pub but he called it the Madman's.

"Why do you call it that?" I asked him.

"Because people were always fighting in there," he replied. Once, he picked up his pint of beer just in time, as it turned out, because at that precise moment somebody came flying across the table, head first. It reminded me of a scene from one of the Carry On films, I could just imagine it.

Anyway, to more pressing matters. I decided I would make one last attempt to bring sanity to this mad house I now found myself in.

Smiling, I replied, "Ah you want this Kultarn technology, don't you? I'll tell you what, then. If you declare an immediate ceasefire, withdraw from all occupied territories, make an honourable peace with the Hellertrons and set up a war crimes commission to prosecute those who have committed war crimes against the Hellertrons, then I will stay here on Tyros with you to work on the peaceful use of Kultarn technology."

"Half the Galaxy is ours by conquest," the Council member replied, "and you are in no position to be dictating terms. The original offer still stands, but not for much longer, Guardian. Don't try our patience. As for the Solarans, if they renounce their alliance with the Hellertrons and pledge allegiance to us, they could end the war right now. Wesker spoke to you at length. He tells me he thinks you are trustworthy. If you give your word and accept our offer, I can have the Transdamping barrier lowered right now. You can then go back to Sontral to explain what has happened and champion our cause to the Solaran war cabinet. That, combined with their hopeless position now this escapade has failed and the worsening war situation, should be enough to sway them to our way of thinking."

"What about the Hellertrons?" I asked. "Don't they deserve to be left alone to peacefully co-exist in the Galaxy along with you and the Solarans?"

"The only thing the Hellertrons are fit for is to work in our factories and toil on our farms. The same as these savages," he pointed towards the Drones, "are only fit to fight for us in our endeavor to expand our empire to its maximum extent."

I lowered my head with a sigh of utter dejection as the full realisation dawned on me of what was in store, not only for Earth but also the entire Galaxy. As I was preparing myself to tell them what I really thought about them and what they could do with their so-called offer, something truly astonishing was transpiring outside with the control beacon on top of the Citadel. It was noticeably slowing down until, eventually, with a final swishing sound it ground to a shuddering, screeching, absolute stop. The only logical explanation that made any sense was that the shape explosive charges had only severed a certain number of connections. The remainder could not cope indefinitely with the extra current and literally overheated, slowly burning themselves out over a period of time.

I raised my head and looked the Council member straight in the eyes. "You foul, filthy creatures! I hope you all burn in hell."

One of the Kayton guards shouted, "Don't you talk like that to a member of the Supreme Council."

"No matter," the Council member said. "You have had your chance, Guardian, and now you will pay the ultimate price for your narrow-minded shortsightedness and lack of vision. I promise you this though, John... when the war is over we will make it a priority to find your home planet and then level it. In fact I am almost sorry, John, that you won't be there to see all your hopes and all your dreams come crashing down in ruins under the weight of the fire power from our battle cruisers. Oh, and I will personally see to it that we use our new cascade weapon on your people."

"Do you know that, as a people, you are all truly lost to humanity?" I asked him.

He laughed. "Drakos, kill him."

Drakos smiled. "With pleasure." As he began to step forward, he stopped in his tracks, groaning in terrible pain, after which he fell forward, crashing face down onto the ground. He was dead.

The Drone stood behind him – the one who had shot me in the arm. He had stabbed him in the back with his laser blade. He must have whispered the command for it to extend while those heated discussions were taking place between the Council member and myself. As he stood there, I could see the blood dripping off the white laser. Then, with his left hand in a symbolic gesture of defiance, he tore off his helmet so that, for the first time, I could see what this man actually looked like. Instead of just being a faceless automaton programmed to obey the Kaytons, he was now an individual with a mind of his own and he started using it to good effect to extract revenge on his former Kayton masters.

After smashing the helmet to the floor so violently that I could almost feel the vibrations reverberating around the room, he shouted in a very loud voice, "Now, fight like savages for your freedom!"

What a historic moment. Now to describe the Kaytons as being surprised would be an understatement. Most, like Drakos's two Lieutenants, were just frozen in shock with their mouths wide open. Not so the former Drone, who immediately slashed one of the Lieutenants across the throat with his blade. Then with lightning speed he stabbed the other Lieutenant in the stomach, after which he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck to use him as a human shield as one of the Kayton officers took a pot shot at him. He then fell to the floor with his human shield, saying, "Blade in." As he hit the deck, he grabbed his laser rifle which he had quietly placed there earlier on. Then, in rapid succession, he took out not only the Kayton officer who had fired on him but three others as well, just for good measure. This scenario of vicious, hand-to-hand mini-battles was being played out right across the control room between the freemen, as I now called them, and their former Kayton masters.

Meanwhile, the two Supreme Council members had their eyes on me with seemingly only one thought on their mind. My destruction. The base of their disc was also apparently a weapons platform. I watched helplessly as two apertures opened in each disc to reveal a laser gun. They were just about to open fire on me when a freeman saw what was happening. Oh, he must have been at least seven feet tall... he reminded me of Jaws in the two Bond films. He ran over to the discs, grabbing them both, one with his left hand and the other with his right. Then he pushed both discs upwards as they fired their weapons so that the shots landed harmlessly above my head. Still, it was a very close call.

As for the two Council members, they both rolled off the back of their respective discs, landing with a bump on the hard floor. However, that was the least of their worries as, almost immediately, they were set upon by a number of freemen who used their rifle butts to pulverize them. Needless to say, it was not a very pretty sight to watch. By the time they had finished battering the two of them to a pulp, I'm afraid not even their own mothers would have recognised them any more.

I was just a helpless bystander to these momentous events that were being played out before my very eyes. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks but I smiled, for they were not tears of sorrow but tears of joy. I just said to myself, "My work is now done." By now this particular skirmish was over. Its outcome was never really in any doubt as the Kaytons had been outnumbered by more than two to one and, of course, the freemen had the initial element of surprise on their side, which they had put to good effect. No prisoners were taken. Such was the ferocity of the fighting that all the Kaytons in that room had been killed, right down to the last man. The freemen had exacted their revenge. I suppose, when you had been separated from your loved ones and enslaved for God knows how many years, with your home planet and people being mercilessly ground down, then you could expect no other reaction. Not like my home country of England; that had not been successfully occupied since 1066. We could afford to follow the Geneva Convention.

You could tell that the freeman who had killed Drakos had been a leader of men on his home planet by the way he directed the others to set up a defence perimeter as well as sending out patrols to ascertain the progress of the rebellion generally. Then, with six of his comrades in arms, including the seven-foot guy who I had christened the Big Fella, he began to approach me very slowly. The six, who still wore their helmets, removed them, dropping them on the ground. It was just like Freema had said, each one of them had noticeably deep blue eyes. All, to a man, were Vogarans from the planet, Tau Seti. They all formed up just in front of me, smiling at me as they did so. I returned the compliment in kind.

The one who shot me in the arm said, "Please forgive me, Guardian, for what I did."

"I won't hear of talk like that," I replied. "You were only doing what you had been programmed to do. In fact, I think you are the bravest group of men I have ever met in my life, my little band of heroes. And by the way, from now on you call me John. Tell me your name, soldier."

He told me his name was Crixas and that he had been a Captain in the regular army of Tau Seti. After the Kaytons overran Tau Seti he led a resistance band of fighters until he was captured and turned into a Drone. He told me the names of his men gathered around me but he did not know the name of the man I called the Big Fella. They called him the Big Man. Crixas thought he had been so traumatised at witnessing his family being killed by the Kaytons that he had lost the power of speech, but he was by far the best fighter they had in their group.

He then began to dress my wound, first by tearing away the material of my sleeve and then he produced a dressing from a pouch on his belt. He applied what looked like a square plaster to the wound. Oh, it was nice and cool and really took the edge off the pain I had been experiencing. It was like a gel which partially melted into the wound, while the upper part formed a transparent outer covering.

After completion of that minor task, Crixas said, "We had better try and get you out of here, John. The Kaytons will direct the remainder of their forces to eliminate you for what you and your friends have done. Ask your Guardianship if he can now Transport you out."

"I will try," I replied. "Kev, can you Transport me now?"

"I'm sorry, John," Kev replied. "The Transdamping barrier is still in operation. I can't even move you to a safer part of Tyros."

"Thanks for trying, Kev. Notify me as soon as you are able to Transport me." I turned to Crixas. "Just concentrate on saving your men, Crixas. You're going to attract too much heat by trying to protect me. I will get by somehow; I've got this far."

All of them looked me straight in the eyes as Crixas then said, "There is not a man here who wouldn't gladly give up his life to protect you, John. We are all going to fight our way out of here, get a ship and get off this rock together."

"You all humble me with your selfless bravery," I replied.

"No," said Crixas, "you put us all to shame with the sacrifices you and your friends have made to free me and my people from slavery."

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Can you move okay, John?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then we had better make our move now. I will contact other groups by radio and see if we can get Transport ships to pick us up in the clearings just outside the Citadel so that we can get off Tyros."

I got up and we all very gingerly made our way out of the bunker complex and back on to the surface proper. Of course, for me it meant passing a certain place again that had caused me and two very dear friends so much hurt and pain, which will be etched on my memory for the remainder of my days.

Twenty-four

In the S.I.S command complex on Sontral, most people, apart from the old diehards like Horace or those like Freema who so much wanted to see me back safely, had just about given up hope. Most had their heads down as depression and despondency began to sink in and then, like a bolt from the blue, the screen in front of the main consoles lit up. It was Raygel with an incoming transmission. Everyone was invigorated again and woke as if emerging from a deep slumber. This at last was the moment they had all been hoping and waiting for.

"Put it on speaker," Commander Vadoran said."

The operator complied as she said to the agent on Raygel, "Please give your verification code."

He replied, "Verification code Oscar Bravo Tango Zero 9471."

"Verification code accepted," the operator said. "Go ahead."

"Unbelievably, the Drones have turned on their Kayton masters. A massive insurrection is now underway."

At this, a huge cheer rang out from everyone in the command centre. At last they were on their way; the end was now in sight.

The agent continued, "I can only assume that you have managed to jam the signal. I am going to help organise the rebellion more effectively. I hope to be back on Sontral very soon."

Before he signed off, the operator explained what had transpired before leaving to complete his task. Then, one by one in quick succession, the other screens began to light up as they, too, had momentous news to convey.

At that precise moment, Commander Vadoran shouted to the floor supervisor. "Transmit now to all our agents and resistance movements in the outer systems. At least it will give them a little time to organise and prepare for what's coming their way in a few minutes."

The Prime Minister managed to catch the Commander's attention briefly and said, "Well done."

The Commander nodded in acceptance and then resumed his direction of his staff to the job in hand.

Then the deputy floor supervisor approached the Hellertron Ambassador. "Mister Ambassador, would you follow me, please? We have got you a direct and secure link to your government and high command on Rueatarn."

He needed no encouragement. First he made formal contact with his people by giving his own unique verification codes. Now, considering he was a diplomat who was used to sweet-talking people and rambling on forever with no concern for the passage of time, on this occasion at least, he wasted no time and came straight to the point.

"Guardians have knocked out Drone Command Bunker on Tyros. Recommend immediate implementation of Verenfunken with all our available armed forces. And I hope you show them the same mercy as they have shown our people."

The Prime Minister was in discussion with his military and civilian leadership and began with General Siliax. "Notify all ground force and battle fleet commanders to initiate operation Marita immediately. I want to end the war as quickly as possible with minimum losses to ourselves."

Now, as had been mentioned before, something had been playing on General Siliax's mind. Now the time had come to speak out and voice his concerns. "Mister Prime Minister," he began, "I must strongly insist on an immediate and full strategical missile strike on the ten Kayton battle fleets before we engage them with our own fleets."

"Explain," asked the Prime Minister.

The ratio of Drones to Kaytons on their ships is about fifty-fifty, not like their ground forces of which seventy percent are made up of Drones. So you could have a situation where up to half their fleets remain under Kayton control, which is totally unacceptable. My boys have been through hell. I want them to be given the maximum advantage possible before they engage the enemy."

The Foreign Secretary then intervened. "We can't attack with our missile force. We could be hitting ships that have already been seized by their former Drone crews. How am I, as Foreign Secretary, going to explain such actions to those people's governments? The situation could become intolerable."

"I agree," the Chancellor said, "and don't forget, the former Drones will have the element of surprise on their side."

The Minister for War Production also interceded. "I agree with General Siliax; our people on the home front would never forgive us if we didn't do everything in our power to keep our losses to a minimum. Especially at this late stage of the war when victory is so close. Nobody wants to be the last man to die. Let's end this whole sorry business as quickly as possible."

The Prime Minister paused for a moment to carefully weigh up all the options and then, when his mind was made up, he said, "After authorising Adema, Kronos and John to carry out such a dangerous mission, this ranks as the most difficult decision I have ever had to make, but as Commander-in-Chief of the Solaran armed forces, it is my duty to make the interests of the men and women serving in them my first priority. To that end, I am now ordering an immediate and full strategical missile strike on the ten Kayton Battle Fleets. It is not a decision I take lightly but it is I and I alone who will have to live with the consequences for the rest of my life."

Things then began to move very quickly. General Siliax waved over the Colonel who was always standing in the shadows, never far away from the Prime Minister. He had the small briefcase chained to his wrist that contained the launch console for the missiles.

"We are going for immediate launch," the General said as the Colonel removed the handcuffs and placed the small briefcase on the table and used a swipe card to open it.

The Prime Minister and General Siliax then entered their respective authorisations and launch codes as well as the target acquisition information necessary. After which it was just a matter of letting things take their course. Everything that could be done had been done. It was now down to others to carry out the orders and make the whole enterprise a resounding success by eliminating the Kayton battle fleets once and for all.

While everyone else in the command centre was elated at the good news, Freema was still very quiet, not knowing how John and the others were on Tyros.

Alana said to her, "I'm sure John is all right, Freema. They will all be back home soon."

Freema smiled weakly. "I hope you are right."

On the forward missile bases which were actually huge lumbering space stations situated behind the Solaran front lines, all was quiet for the crews who manned these monsters. Only endless drills and maintenance broke the monotony. Mind you, that was the way they liked it, knowing full well that the only time they would be used would be if the Solaran front lines collapsed. Then they would be required to fire their deadly cargo to cover their comrades' retreat. So it really was a case of no news was good news and so it had remained up until then.

On board, two men were responsible for a battery of twenty missiles. They sat in a launch cubicle at a control panel, approximately twelve feet apart from each other. The station contained two hundred missiles in total. One man could not launch his missile battery on his own; both men had to go through a set procedure together for the system to be activated. Two such men who were sitting in their cubicle on just one of these massive harbingers of potential destruction were going about their normal routine which, at that particular moment, consisted of completing some of their daily paper work. Then, like a bolt from the blue, the alarm sounded and an automated voice said, "This is not a drill. Repeat: this is not a drill. We are going for launch."

The men quickly leapt into action, discarding their pens and paper to initiate the launch sequence in perfect tandem.

One man said, "Oh dear God, the front must have collapsed. I've got a brother serving in the front line."

"Then we had better make them count," said the other man. "Our forces will be relying on us to cover their withdrawal."

At that precise moment a senior commander burst into the room. "It is not what you think. The Guardians have knocked out the Drone Command Bunker on Tyros. The Drones are now in full rebellion. We have been ordered to hit the Kayton battle fleets with everything we have got before we send our battle fleets in to finish them off. Come on, jump to it! I don't want my section to be the last to launch."

The men needed no further encouragement as they enthusiastically completed their launch sequence with renewed vigour. Never had they dreamed they would be firing their deadly ordnance in such circumstances.

The same scene was being played out on every station as the crews could hear the tremendous noise and feel the vibrations of the tens of thousands of missiles leaving their respective stations in perfect synchronisation, ready to deliver their deadly payload.

On completion of their task, all the crews started celebrating. One said, "I hope those sods get what they deserve."

Some time later, as the missiles were almost upon the various Kayton battle fleets, vicious hand-to-hand fighting was taking place between the Kaytons and their former Drone crews for control of the ships. On all the ships the alarms were sounding, saying, "Incoming fire... Incoming fire... Take immediate evasive action."

In most cases it was to no avail. One Kayton crew member said to the former Drone he was now locked in deadly combat with, "Don't be a fool, let's work together to save the ship," but his appeals came too late as the nuclear-tipped missiles smashed into the various Kayton fleets en masse to devastating effect. As the individual ships were hit one by one, they lit up the darkness of space, illuminating it like Christmas tree lights being suddenly switched on. Next, the Solaran battle fleets moved in to finish off what was left of the Kaytons' ships. They were not fleets any more, just scattered remnants fighting for their very existence. It was all over very quickly. Some Kayton ships had managed to retain control and escape, but their numbers were small. They were now finished as an effective fighting force. Never again would they be able to menace the Galaxy and threaten the peace.

Twenty-five

On Ganeymon on the Keltar battle front, it was just another day of uncertainty for the men in the trenches, never knowing when the next Kayton attack would occur. Apart from the odd exchange of artillery fire and the obligatory sniper taking a pot shot, not much was happening on this sector of the front. The young Second Lieutenant, who had been standing next to the unknown soldier when he had been so tragically killed at his side, had subsequently found out that soldier's name. He had collected all his belongings and put them into storage until the day he could return them in person to his girlfriend, Otterley. Although when, if ever, that day would come, nobody could tell. Everyone now knew the war news was bad and all leave had been cancelled for the foreseeable future. Only their discipline kept them going. How much longer could they hold out? Like everybody else, they just did their duty as ordered.

Anyway, our Lieutenant was sitting there, minding his own business as always, when the man to his left said, "I've been hearing rumours that secret weapons are about to change the course of the war."

"Yes," the Lieutenant replied, "I've been hearing the same stories for the last two years, but nothing ever comes of it. It's just propaganda put out by Vadoran's S.I.S to try and keep morale up."

Then the man to his right said, "God is on our side. Has not the second Guardian been discovered and come over to us? I do believe in the ancient prophecies and that one day the Kultarn miracle will come to pass."

The Lieutenant just slumped forward with his head in his hands, thinking to himself, oh no, I've got a fantasist on one side and a guy with religion on the other; surely things cannot get any worse? Then, at that very moment, sporadic gun shots and explosions could be heard coming from the Kayton side of the lines. Further down the line the Major in charge was scanning the Kayton lines with his binoculars looking for signs of activity.

"They're up to something," he declared. "Sound the alarm and go to full battle readiness."

"Yes, sir," replied his deputy. As the alarm sounded, word was sent along the whole front line to prepare for an immediate Kayton attack. All the soldiers who were still in their dugouts poured out with their weapons at the ready. All were now as prepared as they could be for what they thought was about to hit them.

A messenger, almost out of breath, then arrived from company headquarters. "Sir, the Drones have turned on the Kaytons."

"You are kidding, soldier," the Major replied.

"No, sir. It's true, the Guardians have knocked out the Drone Command Bunker on Tyros. There is no signal to control them any more. Your orders are to attack at once and help them finish off the Kaytons."

"Now they are the sort of orders I like," the Major replied.

As word was passed down the line to commence the attack, cheers could be heard emanating from the men as the news spread very rapidly along the whole front. When the news reached the Lieutenant and his two comrades, they all jumped and shouted for joy at the top of their voices. The Lieutenant said to his two men, "You were both right in your own way. Come on, let's end the war now."

When all was ready, the Major gave the order. "Now our time has come. Let us help these freemen finish the Kaytons off once and for all."

Everyone roared as they followed the Major over the top to their date with destiny. As one they charged and as one they arrived at the former Kayton lines to help the former Drones defeat the remaining Kayton forces. It was all over very quickly. All the Kaytons had been killed or captured as things were starting to settle down.

The Major noticed a group of former Drones lining up Kayton prisoners against a wall, ready to be summarily shot. With some of his men, he ran over and stood between the former Drones and the Kayton prisoners.

"No," he said. "What you do with the Kaytons you capture on your home planets is your business. But this is a Solaran military controlled area which means in this sector, I am in charge. If this lot have committed war crimes they will be tried by due process in the courts, not like this.

The former Drones, after a slight pause during which anything could have happened, then began to disperse. A serious incident had been avoided.

One former Drone pushed one of the Kayton Prisoners as he left, saying, "Ah, you're not worth it."

Another one said to the Major, "We want to go home."

"Transports are making their way here as we speak," the Major replied. "You will all be on your way home very soon."

The tension soon subsided as everyone began to savour the moment of victory by celebrating in their own individual ways. Some just wanted to relax on their own, away from it all, to give themselves time for it to sink in just what had actually happened and reflect on how lucky they had been to survive. For others, it would be a mixture of drinking as well as singing and dancing and who could blame them? It was their moment in history now, a day to remember. And they could all think about returning home to be reunited with their loved ones again now the war was at last at an end.

Things were very different in the former slave labour camps and factories like the one Kronos had spied on. By the time the Hellertron military arrived it was all over. No Kayton had been taken alive. The former Drone guards and the slave labour camp inmates had seen to that and again, who could blame them? It was their revenge for all the pain and misery they had endured during their enslavement. You could hear the former guard dogs yelping as the children threw stones at them and chased them with sticks. It was a good job the dogs were fast runners; the children gave up their pursuit once the dogs reached the relative safety of the nearby forest. They were lucky, though, having all been released just in time by the kennel master who was in charge of looking after the dogs. He looked like Sergeant Schultz from the TV series, Hogan's Heroes. The last thing he said before the former Drone guards killed him and strung him up was, "You savages, you're not getting your hands on my little babies... now run like the wind!" He released them from their pens in the kennel complex and they ran out of the main gate and made for the forest. The two alpha male dogs, Max and Prince, were watching from the edge of the forest as the last of the females made it to safety. Now Prince was the hard case; he was just about to run out of the forest and attack one of the children, but then Max turned towards the females and gestured towards Prince as if to say, come on. Prince took the hint and after giving one last ferocious growl at the assembled children, he followed Max and the girls deeper into the forest to start their new lives together as wild pack animals, having from now on to fend for themselves. As Prince caught up with Max and the girls, he nipped Max oForgive the puns, but Max and Prince had experienced a woof... oh, rough time, but were now the top dogs and at least they had all lived to bark another day, which was more than could be said for their former masters.

Crowds of people had gathered around the dead bodies of the Kayton guards, kicking and spitting on them with all the fury and hatred they possessed. A number of the bodies had been strung upside down from the electrified fences that surrounded the camps. Sometimes sparks would fly off them as the odd gust of wind blew the body onto the electrified part of the fence. The war factories themselves had been torched. You could see the flames raging in the distance.

As the hatred subsided and the orgy of destruction came to an end, it was time for the Hellertron civilians as well as the former Drones to start boarding the Transport ships to begin their long journey home. Now it was no secret that the Hellertron military had come in for some very serious criticism from the Solaran military and civilian leadership. The Prime Minister and General Siliax had said as much to the Hellertron Government and High Command many times in the past. But it had to be said, the Hellertron Military Police who were now in charge of repatriating these people back to their home planets, were a cut above the rest of the Hellertron armed forces. The scope of the plan they had to enact was vast but so were the forces they had at their disposal to execute it, as fleets of military Transports were pressed into service for this mammoth undertaking. The men themselves were highly trained and disciplined. They had the whole operation superbly organised down to the last detail as the civilians and former Drones stood in line to be directed onto their appropriate ships to be homeward bound in a matter of minutes.

The little boy who Kronos had observed being frightened by the guard dog, asked his father, "Is it true, Papa?"

"Yes, son. We are going home."

They had reached the front of the line now as the military policeman smiled and said to the little boy, "Where are you going, young man?"

"We are going to the Taraxian system, sir," the boy replied.

"Go to my left, son, with your father and mother and board Transport number seven. You will be on your way home very soon and good luck for the future. And make sure you look after your mother and father; they will always be the best friends you ever have."

"Thank you, sir," the boy replied, following his parents to their allotted Transport.

The next in line was the old lady who had the truncheon placed under her chin by the former chicken farmer Kayton guard. She did not give the military policeman chance to speak, but jumped in first, saying, "Oh, you're a pretty boy, then. If I was a young woman again I would marry you right away. I always liked a man who wore a smart uniform."

The military policeman smiled at her. "And if I wasn't already spoken for, Madam, I would marry you today. But I'm afraid, as the old saying goes, my wife won't let me. But as a consolation I can get you home back to your loved ones in double quick time. Where would you like to go?"

"I would like to go to Rueatarn. I have family and friends I would so much like to see again."

"And so it will be," the policeman replied. "Please take my arm, Madam, and I will escort you personally to the next available Transport to Rueatarn."

"Oh, thank you," she said, marching arm-in-arm with her dashing young officer to the Transport take off area.

As a final act of retribution, the Nissen-style huts where the Hellertron civilians had been housed were torched just for good measure by the stragglers, to eliminate every last trace of what they had gone through. As the last of the Transports took off, everyone was relieved their ordeal was finally over and they all shared the same sentiment: never ever would this be allowed to happen again. Previously, the Hellertron government had resisted calls to join the Solaran Commonwealth, but it was apparent now that new organisations and ways of conducting affairs would have to be found if they were to stop a repetition of what had happened with the Kaytons.

On the former occupied planets like Tau Seti, reprisals were even harsher towards their former Kayton masters I think the lucky ones were those who were killed on the spot in battle. A terrible fate awaited those high ranking Kaytons who were captured. If I said to you, look up what Queen Elizabeth І did with the Antony Babington plotters, you would get some idea of what was done to the Kaytons on places like Tau Seti. When the fighting was all over on Tau Seti, it must have been a sight to see as the government and military leadership emerged out of the underground cave system from where they had been conducting operations. Over a million people had gathered to greet them as the lawful government of Tau Seti and to thank them for staying to conduct the resistance to the Kaytons.

Twenty-six

Back on Tyros in a squalid little corner off the main hanger in the Citadel, were gathered the remainder of the Supreme Kayton Ruling Council with other high ranking civilian and military officials as well as their dedicated personnel protection guard, armed to the teeth and ready to die in combat protecting their masters lives. Wesker had also gravitated there. He had calculated that he could increase his own chances of survival if he stuck close to the centre of power. All were bowed down by anxiety at the disaster that was now unfolding all around them. At that precise moment, an officer arrived who had just escaped in time from the military command and communications centre before it was overrun. He was to participate in what all good people would be hoping would be the Kayton Supreme Council's very last situation conference.

He was asked by a Supreme Council member, who could be called the Boss of bosses, "What is the strategical situation?"

The officer, having now recovered his composure, swallowed, took a deep breath and replied, "All ground positions have been overrun and at least ninety percent of our battle fleets have been destroyed or captured. The Empire is collapsing."

How would everyone react now they were confronted with the true situation? Wesker immediately started whimpering like a little baby, raising his left hand towards his mouth and biting his index finger all the time. His head and hands were shaking uncontrollably for fear of whatever might happen to the Kaytons as far as war crimes were concerned. For him, the only thing that would be ready to greet him on Sontral would be a hangman's noose for committing high treason. He could almost feel the noose starting to tighten around his neck. The Kayton officers could only look upon him with contempt and absolute disgust.

The Kayton Supreme Council members were also shaking, not with fear, but absolute rage. As the Boss of bosses said to the officer, "That pig Prime Minister and his whore, Vadoran! I hope they both burn in hell. As for the Guardian, is he still alive?"

"Yes as far as we know," the officer replied. "He is being protected by those savages from Tau Seti."

"Then I want you to direct the remainder of our forces into finding and killing him."

The officer sighed. "We are rapidly losing command and control and most of what forces we have left are trying to get a ship and get off Tyros, which is what we should be doing before it is too late."

The Boss was by now shaking his fist uncontrollably. "Then I want an unlimited bounty placed on his head!" he roared.

Now Wesker, who had recovered a little of his composure from the shock of earlier on, sensed he might be able to prolong his miserable existence at least a little while longer. Taking his chance, he shouted, "It won't work!"

A Kayton officer replied, "You... speak only when spoken to, you Solaran turncoat!"

"Ah," the Boss said, "let's hear what Wesker has to say." He pointed towards him with his crooked, arthritic, index finger. "You were the only one who voiced any disquiet about the coming of the second Guardian... you even came to us with your concerns which, to our cost, we dismissed out of hand. Like everyone else, we were drunk with victory, thinking the war was nearly over and also that the Transdamping barrier could not be broken. If only as a precautionary measure, we had increased the number of guards to three to accompany a maintenance worker in the Citadel. We could have avoided this catastrophe that has befallen us, so go on, elaborate; let's hear what you have to say."

Wesker replied, "As I said before, it won't work. No bounty hunter or assassin would take on the contract – they wouldn't get anywhere near him. And they would know, even if they did succeed, that they would never live long enough to spend the money. They would be chased to the ends of the Galaxy and beyond and killed by Vadoran's S.I.S. I spoke to him at length and in my opinion, I think he will return to his home planet. Now very soon there are going to be a lot of unemployed and very disgruntled military personnel who will be looking to make some big money. The Guardian might have been loose with his tongue on Sontral about his home planet, so for the right price someone may be willing to sell me the information as I still have good contacts on Sontral. But they would only deal with me. They would never trust a Kayton, I'm sorry to say. And the beauty of all this is that, if successful, you would kill two birds with one stone by destroying his home planet and killing him at the same time. What more could you ask for?"

The Boss and the other Council members listened intently to what Wesker had to say, after which they all sped off on their anti-gravity discs to a quiet corner to discuss the situation in private. After a couple of minutes of heated discussion, during which time Wesker was biting his finger nails to such an extent he must have worn them down to the bone, the Council members made their way back to the main group.

"A binding decision has been made from this moment on," the Boss said. "Wesker is now in command of our remaining armed forces—"

A Kayton General interrupted. "You cannot place a non-Kayton in charge of our remaining forces."

The Boss shouted back. "The order has been given and I expect it to be obeyed without question. There is to be no more discussion, the matter is now closed."

Everyone bowed their heads, which meant acceptance.

The Boss continued, "All we ask from you, Wesker, is that you direct all your efforts into killing the Guardian and destroying his home planet, after which you can do as you please with the forces at your disposal."

If Wesker had written the script himself things could not have worked out better for him. "Thank you, sir, for putting your faith in me," he replied. "I won't let you down. In fact, once I have obtained the relevant information as to his whereabouts, I will have him killed immediately. Then I will launch a retaliatory strike on his home planet that will be so massive and so overwhelming that not a single living creature will be left on its surface, of that I promise you."

All the Council members smiled and nodded in gleeful approval. So Wesker had made his pact with the Devil but he still had to get a ship and make his escape from Tyros.

To that end, the Boss said to one of the Kayton officers, "Is that ship we used for the Guardian verification mission still in the hangar?"

"Yes," the officer replied, "but the whole place is crawling with former Drones. I don't think we have enough fire power at our disposal to make it to the ship."

"But we might," the Boss pointed out, "if we utilise the weapons we Council members have at our disposal in our anti-gravity discs. Quickly organise a skeleton crew to man the ship and a close protection detail to protect Wesker with their lives. The rest of you form up now with us; we must make a move right away. Time is short and the longer we leave the attempt, the more savages we will have to contend with in the hangar."

The orders were carried out and very soon the hangar doors were opened. The whole group made their way to the ship which was in one of the far loading bays. This motley crew actually made a fair distance before they were noticed by the former Drones who immediately went for them, all guns blazing. However, with the added fire power from the Council members' discs, they managed to punch a way through to the solitary ship, which must have seemed like heaven for Wesker, who was shaking like a leaf all the while.

Still, they were not on board yet. As swarms of new former Drones began arriving on the scene, it was touch and go. Then the Council members decided the issue with their trump card. They all in unison detonated a self-destruct device which was housed in their discs. The heat from the shockwave blew Wesker over, so, like the King of Spain at Cadiz, it really did singe Wesker's whiskers as well as his hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. Two of his close protection guards picked him up.

"Get me on board and close that door immediately," Wesker ordered, "and then make an emergency take-off."

Before Wesker had even reached the bridge, the engines had been fired up, the hangar doors opened and away they sped. They were just starting to clear Tyros atmosphere when Wesker arrived on the bridge and took his command seat position.

An officer then asked him, "What are you orders, sir?"

Wesker replied, "Set a course for the Nacratic asteroid fields. Once we are in there, we will be safe. The Solarans would never risk an engagement; it's hard enough surviving in there without having to fight a battle at the same time. Start to make contact with as many of our ships as you can that we have retained control of. Order them to meet us there so that they will be able to provide me close personnel protection. As for our forces in the outer systems, tell them to survive as best they can, even if it means making alliances with local pirates... rubbish of the Galaxy. Still, needs must when the Devil drives. Oh, and make sure they obtain a fifty percent proceeds deal for any booty they obtain. We have to start amassing a war chest so that we can start paying bribes for our long term survival."

Another officer then said, "We have just cleared the atmosphere, sir."

Wesker replied, "Now crash dive into Translight speed."

The ship then sped off with Wesker slumped in the chair, breathing a sigh of relief in the knowledge that he had assured his immediate survival.

Twenty-seven

On Tyros, Crixas and I with my little band of heroes, had made our way out of the former Drone Command Bunker. As we emerged into the Citadel proper, Crixas formed his men into an outer and inner defence perimeter with us positioned in the middle. It was all a very different scene that confronted us from when we had first entered the Citadel. Buildings were partially demolished with blast-charred, damaged walls and many dead from both sides littering the scene. Even the artificial sky was no more. All that was left was the white light from the emergency backup system.

Then at last we were out of the Citadel. I noticed that the guard who had allowed us entry into the Citadel was lying dead, slumped over his pass verification system. I suppose you could say at least he died at his post doing his duty. It looked like he had also been knifed in the back. As we emerged into the clearing proper, Transport ships were already gathering and starting to take freemen on board for the long journey home. Priority was being given to the wounded, some of whom were in a very bad condition. What a price they had paid to gain their freedom! I remembered what Commander Vadoran had told me about the Kayton Empire imploding from within, but I think what he failed to tell me was that it would be these freemen who would be doing most of the fighting. In effect, they would be doing most of the Solarans' and Hellertrons' dirty work for them with minimum losses to themselves. Still, I suppose that's war for you – very indiscriminate and never very fair to those caught up in it.

As we boarded our Transport I took one last look back and said to myself, good riddance to bad rubbish but it was also now time to start looking forward, not back, and to begin contemplating the future. After taking our seats, we were soon away, the preflight preliminaries not taking long. I thought, oh well, it can move fast for a Transport ship. As we cleared the atmosphere I could see dozens of other ships making the same journey as ourselves. This scene must have been playing itself out throughout the former Kayton empire... millions of people in thousands of ships, all endeavouring to make their way back to their respective home planets.

Kev then spoke to me. "John, we have now cleared the Transdamping barrier. I can now Transport you again as normal."

"Thank you, Kev," I replied, "but I am going to make the journey to Tau Seti and make sure these guys make it home safely."

Then we made the jump to Translight speed. Oh, what a sight as I sat back and literally watched the Stars go by in quick succession. At last we were on our way. How glad I was to be off that hell that was called Tyros, but I would retain memories of my experiences that of course I would never forget for the rest of my life. I must have eventually nodded off. As Crixas ever so gently woke me up, my eyes opened and we smiled at each other. But I could tell from the look on his face he had something important to ask me. I just knew it.

"John," he said, "there is a young man on board who has been badly wounded. He knows he hasn't much time left and that he will not make it back to Tau Seti. He is aware you are on board and is asking if he can speak with you. I know it is a big ask; I can tell from the expression on your face that you have seen and experienced enough death and destruction to last you a lifetime. But if you could find it in your heart to speak with him, even for a short while, we would all be eternally grateful to you."

"Of course," I agreed, leaving my seat and making my way with Crixas to the makeshift sick bay.

We approached the young man very slowly. What on earth was I going to say to him?

Crixas said to the young man, "This is John."

Then I remembered how Kronos had interacted with the crew of the ship on New Canada. I took a leaf out of his book and said, "What is your name, young man? And what part of Tau Seti are you from?"

He smiled. "My name is Nostaw. I am from the town of Beckatovar in the province of Andermar. Before I die, I want to meet one of the men who freed my people from slavery."

"No," I replied. "I won't hear of such talk. We will have you back on Tau Seti and better before you know it."

He gave me a cheeky look. "Now John, I will not take those well-meaning lies even from you, a Guardian. I was in the resistance on Tau Seti and on the team that assassinated the Kayton Governor of our planet. We made them so fearful that they were afraid to go to sleep at night for fear they would never wake up. They would look underneath their beds every night just to make sure a bomb had not been planted."

I said I had only been on Sontral for a very short time but I had been told about that assassination and how the Kaytons were living in fear. "You were a beacon to all the other resistance movements in the Galaxy fighting the Kaytons."

"The Solarans supplied us with weapons, ammunitions and medical supplies," Nostaw replied. They also sent us a liaison officer called Marcus, who fought side by side with us against the Kaytons. He was a very brave and fearless man, but he was also a man of very deep faith. He used to tell us stories around the camp fire at night. He told us all about the Solaran Commonwealth and how he hoped all planets like ours would join and work together in peace once the war was over. He also told us fantastic stories about the great Kultarn, who were the custodians of the Galaxy thousands of years ago and about the ancient Kultarn Prophecies. Marcus, who had been an archaeologist before the war, had seen certain texts that had not been seen by the general public. He said that in his opinion, the prophecies clearly stated the forces of good would fight in a war against evil. The forces of good would go low, almost to the bottom and virtually to the point of defeat. Then, very shortly after the arrival of a second Guardian, the Kultarn miracle would occur. Sadly, Marcus was killed in the operation that resulted in the capture of most of my group. He did not live to see his prediction come true, but how right he was. Thank you, John."

"I think you and your people have been far braver than I and deserve the credit," I told him. "I just happened to be in a certain place at a certain time when I was chosen to be a Guardian, but I can tell you I was glad to be by your people's side throughout."

"Now John," Nostaw replied, "I have a very big favour to ask you."

"Go on then," I said, "you have talked me into it."

He produced a letter and pushed it into my left hand. "Give this letter to my family on Tau Seti, but not now while emotions are still raw. Say in one year's time, when the edge may have been taken off the hurt and pain. Will you do this one thing for me, please John?"

"Of course. I regard it as an honour and a privilege that you trust me with something so important."

"Thank you."

As he smiled and grabbed my right hand very tightly, we just looked at each other for what seemed an age as his grip on my hand and on life ever so slowly loosened and slipped away, until they were no more. After which I just sat there, staring into the void, not knowing what to think or say until some time later when Crixas informed me they had been in touch with a Solaran battle carrier that was on our flight path. They had given us permission to board as they possessed the best available off-planet medical facilities and were only too willing to help relieve our plight as the Transport carried only limited medical facilities.

I arrived on the bridge just as we were coming out of Translight speed. Immediately on the screen in front of us was the Solaran battle carrier, Antilles, with a battle cruiser escort. I had seen both types of ships on Sontral on the flypast that had been staged for me at the Prime Minister's residence, but I was still taken aback by their sheer size compared to our comparatively small Transport ship. After permission was given to land, we passed through an invisible force field and touched down on one of the internal flight decks. Medical teams were on standby to immediately rush the badly injured to the hospital facilities, leaving the walking wounded like myself to make our way there under our own steam.

My comparatively minor wound was attended to by a medic who applied what I would call a patch bandage. He said it would be fully healed in seven to ten days. As I sat there, I realised just how lucky I had been. The Captain then introduced himself. During a subsequent conversation with him, I informed him of the sad loss of Kronos and Adema on Tyros and he said he would personally convey the terrible news to Sontral. The Doctor in charge then gave me an update on the medical situation concerning the wounded. After discussing the Vogarans' needs at length with Crixas and the others, it was agreed that the more seriously wounded would be kept on the carrier until they could be transferred by hospital ships to the nearest available planet for more specialist care. As for the ones that were not going to make it, they would be put into stasis and allowed to go back on the Transport. As Crixas said, if they were going to die, it would be back home on Tau Seti with their families and loved ones.

After that very painful conversation, we all made our way back to the flight deck in silence. On entering the flight deck proper, the crew of the carrier had been gathering around the edges of the flight deck as well as on the balconies above. As soon as we were spotted, a huge cheering roar erupted from all the crew members.

I gestured to Crixas and the others and shouted, "These are the men, along with millions of others like them, who brought the Kaytons down. Don't ever forget that."

Then there was complete silence as one by one in single file, the men who had been put into stasis filed past us on what I can best describe as hospital beds with see-through Perspex screens covering them. Each one was being pushed by a white-uniformed medical orderly. The beds themselves were utilising the same anti-gravity technology I had witnessed before on Tyros. As they passed us, we bowed our heads in silence as a mark of respect. You could still see the men's faces as they went by, but within the confines of the enclosed spaces of their beds you could see a silvery damp mist swirling around. This was what must have been keeping them in suspended animation.

Once the last one was loaded on to the Transport for the long journey home to Tau Seti, I started to make my way on board, only to be abruptly stopped in my tracks by Crixas.

"And where do you think you are going, Guardian John?" he demanded.

Stunned, I replied, "Well, I'm making my way back on board."

"No, John," Crixas said, "your fate now lies along a different path to ours. You have done all that has been asked of you and more. Now you must return to your loved ones on your home world the same as we must return to our loved ones on Tau Seti."

"Are you absolutely sure?" I asked.

"Yes, we are all in agreement."

One by one, I said goodbye to my little band of heroes to whom I owed my very life. On reaching the big guy, I looked up and said, "Goodbye, big Fella."

He looked down on me and amazingly, in a slow but measured voice, replied, "Goodbye, John." Then, with a grin on his face he gave me a huge hug... like a grizzly bear, he wrapped his arms around my mortal coil of a body, completely enveloping me in his overpowering grip.

After I was released, I turned to Crixas and embraced him. "Goodbye, my dear friend and thanks again to all of you for saving my life back there on Tyros."

Looking me straight in the eye, he replied, "No, John, thank you for freeing us from slavery and the unspeakable horrors we were forced to commit in the name of the Kaytons."

"I promise I will come and visit you all on Tau Seti once you are well on the road to recovery," I told him. "And of course I have a promise to keep to a certain young man."

"And you will be most welcome by my people and our leaders who will be looking forward to that day," Crixas replied. "Of course, we have a lot of reconstruction ahead of us but at least we can move forward now. The Kaytons arrived on Tau Seti not long after the arrival in the sky of the comet Kahooteck, the appearance of which in our history has always been a sign of bad things to follow. Yes, those Kaytons attacked us after travelling halfway across the Galaxy in their smart uniforms and shiny boots. They thought we were going to be a pushover but we turned Tau Seti into the graveyard of the Kayton army. Let that be a warning to any other powers who have designs of conquest on us. They called us savages because we fought so hard for the planet we loved, as I'm sure, John, you fought with the same sentiment to protect your home planet."

How right he was in that last part of his statement, but of course I could not tell him just how close to the truth he was. "Yes," I agreed, "you and your people have won a great victory today but don't become belligerent or inward-looking in your outlook. I know of a place where a great war was fought but because no proper institutions were set up after hostilities ended to ensure peace, another great war broke out just over twenty years later. Only after the successful conclusion of that war did people come together to ensure no major conflict occurred again. Don't let all the sacrifices be for nothing. Work with the Solarans and the Hellertrons to ensure a lasting peace and prosperity for all."

"I will convey your words to my leaders and hope they will draw the appropriate conclusions from them," Crixas replied. "I look forward to seeing you soon."

I wished them all well and a safe journey and waved them goodbye as I watched them board the Transport, leaving them to conclude their long journey home. As for me, it was time to decide my next move. I asked the captain if any of his ships were making the journey back to Sontral. He told me one of his battle cruisers was making the journey back to Sontral for repairs after sustaining battle damage. It would take three days to make the trip. I asked if I could travel back with them. I knew I could have Transported myself but I wanted time to adjust and come to terms with what had happened. Of course, the captain readily agreed and soon I, too, was on my way after I had bidden the crew goodbye and thanked them for all their help.

Twenty-eight

On Sontral, everyone was in jubilant mood. The war was now over and the lockdown of the S.I.S. Command Centre had been lifted, much to the relief of the Hellertron Ambassador, who immediately took the opportunity to make his way back to his Embassy to find out through his own communications system how things were going in the Hellertron sector of the battle front. The Solaran broadcast network had informed the people of what had happened and that later on that day the Prime Minister would make a live statement on air to the whole of the Solaran Commonwealth. Celebrations had already broken out in the streets, as the Prime Minister had promised during his speech in parliament, with strangers kissing and hugging each other in ecstatic scenes of joy, all of them so very grateful the war was now over.

This was the mood prevailing in the command centre. Of course, Freema was apprehensive as she was still waiting for news about John to feed through. Then, like a bolt from the blue, a message was received by one of the operators from the battle carrier Antilles, after which she raised her hand for the supervisor to come over. The message was printed out and the supervisor told the operator not to say a word to anyone else as she passed on the message to Commander Vadoran. He in turn reported to the Prime Minister who, in sombre mood, made his way over to the front of the upstairs balcony.

"Please could I have everyone's attention," he began, "as I have an important statement to make to you all. A moment ago I was handed a priority communication from the battle carrier, Antilles. The first thing I have to say is that John is all right. He has been superficially wounded, but will make a full recovery. But I have to tell you all now, it has been confirmed that Kronos and Adema were killed during the assault on the Drone Command Bunker."

Screams of anguish and horror rang out from around the room. Some could not control their emotions of despair; others, like Horace, just sat there impassively with tears rolling down their cheeks, thinking what a price had been paid to attain victory.

The Prime Minister continued, "This is the saddest news I have ever had to announce but I won't let their memory fade. I know it was a passion of Kronos to get other powers like the Hellertrons to join the Commonwealth and to this end I will take up the baton and work towards the fulfillment of his dream, thereby creating a lasting legacy we can all be proud of. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like time on my own to come to terms with the fact that I have lost two very good friends."

Such was the anguish that pervaded the command centre, most people could not even speak, they were so traumatized. Not so Commander Vadoran, who was his usual hard, uncompromising self. He was heard saying, "What is life? Life is the Solaran Commonwealth. The individual must die anyway. Beyond the life of the individual is the maintenance and expansion of the Solaran Commonwealth, of that there can be no other." With that, he made his way over to his operators to do what he did best, direct his agents and resistance movements in the field so as to bring a quick and successful conclusion to hostilities.

As for me, I was en route to Sontral aboard the Battle Cruiser, Redoubt. At least my three-day journey gave me time to reflect and come to terms with what had happened. I spoke to Freema at least twice a day. How good it was to hear her voice again, knowing we would soon be reunited. I spent a lot of time sitting in the observation deck in silence for hours on end, just watching the stars fly by. It made you think just how small you are in the big scheme of things. It made me think of the time when I was a teenager, working at Lewis's department store in Leeds city centre. The boilerman, Alf, who taught me how to play cribbage in my dinner hour, told me the older you get, the faster time passes. At the time I did not believe him, but now I thought to myself how right he was. During the war he had served in the Royal Navy, like my mother's brother, Bill, in the far east. Luckily, Alf came through it unharmed, unlike my Uncle Bill who was killed on the Atlantic convoys keeping England supplied with food and raw materials to carry on the fight against Germany. Alf told me once that his ship had been attacked by Japanese suicide planes. The ship survived but, unbelievably, one of the planes did not press home its attack and turned back. Of course the ship's crew was relieved, but Alf always wondered what happened to the pilot, because he would have been disgraced if he had gone back to Japan. It just goes to show that by that late stage of the war, at least some of the Japanese armed forces were not prepared to fight to the last man any more in a war they knew was already lost.

Now at least this part of my journey was over as we entered the orbit of Sontral. After thanking the captain and the crew for having me, I bade them farewell and then Transported myself to the Prime Minister's living room, so I was finishing up virtually where I had started just over a week ago.

As I stepped out of the portal, Freema was of course waiting for me. She ran over to me and we embraced so tightly... oh, how I had longed for that moment. I told her about Earth and how much I hoped she would make a new life with me there. After we had talked for a while, we were joined by the Prime Minister and Commander Vadoran.

They both warmly greeted me and the Prime Minister then said, "I cannot even begin to comprehend what you went through on Tyros and of course, the sad loss of Kronos and Adema you witnessed firsthand. All I can do is thank you on behalf of the Solaran people for the service you gave and for your contribution to ending the war. Now, one very important piece of information I can give you is that Earth is definitely safe. Commander Vadoran has made discreet enquiries. The Kayton battle squadron was twenty two hours away from Earth when the rebellion started. The former Drone crews overpowered the Kaytons on every ship and used the vessels to make their way back to their own planets."

"Well," I replied, "that takes a weight off my mind but I can't help but think how many of those former Drones who I now call freemen were killed in the process of overthrowing the Kaytons."

"I don't think we will ever know for sure how many were lost," the Prime Minister replied, "but we certainly owe them a great debt of thanks. At least it is all over now."

"But what a terrible price had to be paid," I replied.

"Yes," Commander Vadoran said, "but you got what you wanted and we got what we wanted so it was a win win result for both of us. The means clearly justified the end. Think what would have happened if the Kaytons and their crew had won the war."

The Prime Minister then interceded. "Now is the time to look forward to the massive job of reconstruction and building a lasting peace that will stand the test of time. As for you, John, I assume you will be heading back to Earth. All I ask from you before you leave is to attend a thanksgiving memorial service in our main cathedral tomorrow. Now, the surviving Kayton leadership is offering unlimited amounts of money for the location of your home planet. But they don't know where to start; they have nothing to go on. I have discussed the situation at length with Commander Vadoran and we are in agreement that it would be unwise for us to station forces in Earth solar system. It would only attract unwanted attention. Better to just leave things as they are and leave you and Freema to live in anonymity."

I agreed with them both and not long afterwards, Freema and I departed to spend what would be our last night on Sontral. And what a sight greeted us the following day in Sontral's largest cathedral, to give thanks the war was finally over. Every church bell in the Solaran Commonwealth rang out as everyone gave thanks. The Prime Minister gave the main reading. An extract from it reads: "Remember the fallen, for they are no longer here to share in the freedoms we all hold so dear. Remember the laughter and the joy they gave us. Remember the sacrifice they made on our behalf. And to this end we honour them by saying never again will this be allowed to happen. But above all, please remember them."

When the day of remembrance came to an end and after saying goodbye to everyone, it was time for me to return to Earth. Commander Vadoran himself would take Freema to Earth in a small scout ship under the utmost secrecy.

The Solarans still maintained a large professional army, but over the next few weeks the conscripts were demobilised and returned to their home worlds to resume their former pre-war lives. The scenes of happiness and joy were indescribable as families were reunited again after being parted for so long. Then there was one last act to perform. The following day, in every town and city in the Solaran Commonwealth, there was a flypast as the men marched down the main streets. It was not to show off... rather it was a final act that the people wanted to thank the men and the men wanted the parade so as to bring closure to all that had gone before. Street parties were then held, which went on into the early hours of the following morning and then the process of resuming normal, everyday life began.

Legislation was soon passed so that everyone in the Galaxy could enjoy the fruits of peace. It was very similar to the G.I Bill and the Marshall Plan that the United States enacted which rebuilt Europe after World War Two. All service personnel returning from the war had their training paid for, whether it was to become a lawyer or a plumber, the state would foot the bill. All that was asked in return was that they work for one to three years on government contracts on one of the former planets occupied by the Kaytons, so as to help in their reconstruction. As for those planets themselves, if they put up half the money for a project like a new factory or a housing complex, the Solarans would put up the other half of the money. This way, the Galaxy was soon on the road to full recovery with everyone working together for a common purpose.

Now then, remember our Second Lieutenant from Ganeymon on the Keltar front? He had now been discharged from the army. He was from Sontral and had only just qualified as a lawyer when he was called up. After the war his original intention had been to get a job with one of the big law firms on Sontral, but of course he still had one more promise to keep. He had made the long journey to one of the outer systems. It was not like one of the big cities he had been used to on Sontral. I think you could best describe it as the equivalent of a small mid-western town in America. It was right on the edge of the Solaran Commonwealth real frontier country.

After the shuttle had dropped him off, he booked himself into a hotel in town. On enquiring, he was told they did not have a lawyer in town; the residents had to travel to the nearest big city to see a lawyer. He duly noted this fact. Next, he had a certain young lady to meet at her parents' home where she still lived. Yes, he was keeping the promise he had made to that unknown soldier to return his journals and private possessions to his girlfriend. He had been in touch by email, so he was expected. How apprehensive he was as he walked along the garden path to the front door and rang the bell. But he had no need to be. Otterley answered the door and after giving him a big smile, invited him in to meet her family. She was even more beautiful than he imagined; the photo he had recovered did not do her justice.

But now I think we should leave it there, as it was their private moment. But you never know, one day there may be a story to tell. Who knows? Oh, but I will tell you our Second Lieutenant's name... it is Marinas.

Twenty-nine

Now one year had passed and deep within the Nacratic asteroid fields, a small scout ship was navigating its way through the many obstacles. T.A.G.S. that is Totally Automated Guidance System, really came into its own in this sort of environment. The little ship weaved and wound its way around the many asteroids that confronted them with increasing regularity. After one near miss, the Captain, who was the owner of the ship, said to... shall we call him Mister D for now... "Oh, that was close! Are we nearly there yet?"

Mister D replied, "Calm down, it's only an asteroid. We are almost there. I thought you were a hot shot fighter ace. You were at the battle of Zelar, weren't you? One of only two fighter pilots to shoot down five enemy fighters in one day. You were one of the highest surviving aces; your tally by the war's end was one hundred and four confirmed kills. The Kayton fighter pilots used to say of you, 'watch out, watch out, the widespread death is about.'

"Yes," the Captain replied, "and I would like to live long enough to tell my grandchildren."

"Oh, don't worry," said Mister D, "you're going to be well rewarded for today's work. With your share you will be able to buy your own freight company instead of running this crappy little one man outfit."

Then, after emerging from behind an exceptionally large asteroid, what a sight confronted them. Yes, Kayton battle cruisers, hundreds of them, all still oozing evil. They had created a force field around their fleet which lit up brightly every time an asteroid hit it as it bounced off harmlessly, back into the void of space. A section of the force field was lowered to allow the scout ship to enter and make its way to the centre of the fleet.

The Captain then said, "He must have half his available assets gathered here. What's to stop him from double-crossing us? We could never make it out of here if they turned on us."

"No, that won't happen," Mister D replied. "If he did that, nobody would ever deal with him again. Stop worrying, I know what I am doing."

"Well if it's all the same to you," the Captain said, "I will stay on board while you and your entourage do your business with those war criminals."

"As you wish," said Mister D.

The scout ship then docked with the appropriate Kayton Battle Cruiser which was right in the middle of the fleet, after which the scout ship's occupants made their way into the docking bay area of the Kayton ship. There they sighted the man they were looking for.

Mister D said, "Ah, Wesker! How's tricks? Have you heard what the school children are singing about you in the playgrounds on Sontral? Wesker, Wesker, he cheated death... he dodged the hangman by a hairs breadth."

Wesker laughed. "And I wonder what the school children on Sontral would be singing about you if they knew what you were up to. "Drexler, Drexler, he was so vain... he sold out his people for financial gain."

Drexler laughed as he walked to the middle of the docking bay. "Oh, very good, Wesker. You certainly haven't lost your wit since your master's demise. Now tell your men to get back. I will deal with you and you only."

"Alright," Wesker replied. "keep your hair on."

As he ordered his men back, one of his senior officers said, "But sir you're going to be on your own, totally exposed."

"Oh, don't worry," Wesker replied. "I know all these scoundrels from the casinos on Sontral. They won't do anything that would jeopardise getting their hands on the money."

Wesker's entourage then withdrew, leaving just him and Drexler in the middle of the docking bay to parlay.

"Are you still gambling?" Wesker asked. "You want to be careful; one of these days you will be losing the shirt off your back."

"I'm keeping my head above water," Drexler replied. "How about you? Are you enjoying your enforced exile in this Godforsaken place? It's a bit of a come down from your life of luxury on Tyros. Did you hear what the Solaran occupation forces did with your villa on Tyros? They blew it up and then dumped the rubble in the lake at the bottom of your garden. And then just for good measure they scorched the earth with flame throwers, after which they scattered salt on the ground to eradicate the evil presence that had once lived there."

Wesker said, "Oh I have been in worse places, admittedly when I was a lot younger. As for that place on Tyros, well I never liked it, anyway. It brought me nothing but bad luck."

"I see you have had no takers for the unlimited bounty you have placed on the Guardian's head."

"I never thought it would work. The only scenario in which I could see it working was if it was an assassin on his own home planet who did not realize the significance of what he was doing. I've had reports he's living on Tau Seti, being protected by those savages that saved his life on Tyros. One of them is a General now, General Crixas, serving on their defence staff."

"That's just misinformation put out by Vadoran's S.I.S," Drexler replied. "All the evidence is that he has gone back to his home planet."

"He took a woman from Sontral with him, though," Wesker pointed out.

"Oh, that cow, Freema. I hope she gets what's coming to her."

Wesker laughed. "Ah yes, I heard about your little run in with her. Hell hath no fury like a vain man scorned. She trained him well though, didn't she?"

"Ah, if I had been sober she wouldn't have been able to bring me down like that. As for her training the Guardian, you could have trained a monkey to do what he did. They were lucky their success owed much to your former master's lax security measures; in fact they made a gross strategical miscalculation. I hope when you catch up with them both you use that new cascade weapon on his home planet."

"You know about that?"

"Yes," Drexler replied. "I was on the investigating team that interviewed the survivors of the Intersborn test. But we couldn't get any blueprints or technical specifications on it. They had all been destroyed or spirited away in the confusion on Tyros when the empire collapsed. It's not so important now the war is over, but the Solarans would have liked some working examples so that they could develop a counter measure. Do you have the working system?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? Now tell me, Drexler, it always puzzled me why you never defected to the Kaytons. With the money they were offering I thought you would have been a prime candidate for turning."

"Well, I can thank my God-fearing puritanical parents for that bit of good fortune. Although generally I thought the Kultarn prophecies were a lot of nonsense, my parents put enough of the fear of God into me that I thought I would sit on the fence and be on the side of the ones that were left standing at the end."

"Wise choice as it turned out. Now tell me, Drexler what do you know?"

"The Guardian is paying a state visit to Tau Seti in ten days' time."

"Tell me something I don't know," Wesker said."

"Well, if you're not a blue-eyed boy, you won't get anywhere near Tau Seti. The whole planet has been put on lockdown by the Vogaran's security services in conjunction with S.I.S. Even the regular galactic traders have been banned for the duration of his visit. They are suing for loss of trade. Now Vadoran reckons you have the equivalent of one battle fleet left. The Solarans have stationed two whole battle fleets in Tau Seti system under their best two wartime commanders. Also, they have provided the Vogarans with their latest surface-to-air missile systems and formidable laser batteries. Vadoran and General Siliax are also on Tau Seti so as to ensure on the spot coordination just in case you decide to make a move with your fleet. And just for good measure, on the special orders of the Prime Minister, the first diplomatic protection unit in full has been sent from Dorablitz on Sontral to Tau Seti, to provide the Guardian with close personal protection. Normally they would be used to protect the Prime Minister and members of the government for off-planet visits, so you see what you're up against if you decide to make a move on him."

"Very impressive intelligence," Wesker remarked, "but for the money I'm offering, you will have to give me something better than that. So what have you got me then, Drexler, that warrants the payment of a small fortune? It had better be good."

"It is. But I want to see the money first."

"Alright." Wesker waved for one of his officers to bring over one of the work trolleys with the anti-gravity technology. It was literally overflowing with money as it came to a halt in the middle of the bay. Wesker then waved the officer back.

Oh, if you could have seen the faces of Drexler's crew once they had caught sight of the money in its entirety. How unparalleled wealth changes men, and usually for the worse. All of them had their mouths wide open and some were actually foaming at the mouth in anticipation of what was almost within their grasp. Have you ever seen a fly in close up, rubbing its hands when it has just got the goodies? One guy was just like that, smiling and rubbing his hands together almost uncontrollably in frantic pleasure, secure in the knowledge that the loot was almost theirs.

Wesker continued, "Right, I've kept my side of the bargain, now you keep yours."

Drexler smiled and then produced a small video recorder from his pocket. He switched it on to play and then showed the recording to Wesker. It was the security camera footage of John and Freema making their way to the mock-up of the Drone Command Bunker Control Room on the first day of John's training. And there it was, in John's own words...

"I think they are the biggest tyrants since Adolf Hitler on my home planet."

Then Freema placed her right index finger over his lips. "John, never, ever make any reference to your home planet again..."

"Very good, Drexler. Go on, you can take your blood money."

"Well you've got room to talk," Drexler replied. "You took your share of money from the Kaytons and more. The only people making big money on Sontral at the moment are lawyers defending war criminals like you. I was on top money in military intelligence during the war. Now the only work I have been offered recently is on reconstruction projects on planets that have been devastated by your lot. I've got an I.Q. of 123 – I am not working for minimum wage."

"I don't suppose I could talk you into working for me?" Wesker asked. "I could use a good man like you and the pay would be good."

"You suppose right," Drexler replied. "I'm not so keen on the company you keep and life expectancy could be short. I don't want to end up with a knife in my back like Drakos, or a rope around my neck from the Solarans for committing high treason. Anyway, I would probably never get much chance to spend the fruits of my gain. I do not want to end my days stuck in here with you and your little entourage. The Solarans executed ten defectors last week. I don't want to be the next name on their hit list, which is what will happen if they find out I am working for you."

"Yes, I knew all ten of them."

"That's nothing. Did you see what the Hellertrons did to the last lot of high-ranking Kaytons they found guilty of war crimes a few weeks ago? They were given a public execution by hanging, using piano wire on meat hooks in one of Rueatarn city's squares and by all accounts it was very painful and very slow. So if it's all the same to you, I will be on my way."

Wesker remained impassive. "As you wish."

Drexler made his way back to the air lock with his ill-gotten gains. As he reached the entrance, Wesker shouted, "Don't spend it all at once!"

"I won't," Drexler replied. "What a pair we are. I will see you on the gallows one day."

"Yes," Wesker said, "but mine will be a lot higher than yours."

With that they parted, Drexler and his motley crew boarding their scout ship and making their getaway as fast as their engines would carry them. Firstly out of the Kayton enclave and then out of the Asteroid Fields proper and back to civilisation to begin to spend their wages of sin that were gained in such a shameful way.

Back on the Kayton Battle Cruiser, Wesker showed his senior officer the video footage. "We've got him. Transmit this name to the memory core of all our scout ships and don't even tell the captains what we are looking for. Only if we get a match is the ship's computer to notify the Captain. He will then tell me directly and we can gather our forces to go in for the kill."

"But sir, do you know how many habitable planets there are? And that's not counting the uncharted ones. Plus the fact we don't even begin to have enough scout ships to make a proper search and even if we did, we could be looking for years and still not get a match."

At that, Wesker flew off the handle, hurling a tirade of abuse at the officer. "Oh, I'm getting sick of hearing excuses from you lot! I want the Guardian's home planet found, after which I want him killed and then I want death and destruction to rain down on his home world to such an extent that not even bacteria and microbes will be left alive by the time we have finished. I want him to pay for me having to live in this hovel with you bunch of idiots."

"But sir, where are we going to get all the extra scout ships we will need?"

"Do I have to think of everything? What about those huge mineral cargo ship convoys that are piling virtually unprotected from the Backtoomi mining systems? Direct our ships to start robbing them and use the proceeds to buy the scout ships we need on the black market. Standards have certainly fallen since the collapse of the empire. I'm telling you, if I don't see a more aggressive stamp being brought to proceedings and very soon, I am seriously thinking about evoking the punishment of decimation. I will have every tenth man executed for cowardice. And while you are at it, tell all the captains of the scout ships not to bother coming back until they find him. Now go on and get out of my sight, you bunch of incompetent fools. I'm sick of the lot of you!"

"Yes sir," the officer replied. "I will get things moving immediately."

Thirty

Now seven years have passed and the Galaxy is certainly a better place. Peace and prosperity have been restored for all, not just a privileged few. The Hellertrons have joined the Solaran Commonwealth, quickly followed by most individual planets like Tau Seti, that had suffered so much during the war under the Kayton occupation.

As for me, I am living in Los Angeles. I thought it better to be a little fish in a big sea where I would not be noticed, rather than a big fish in a little sea where I might stand out more. Well, that was the logic of my thinking. And what am I doing for a living in Los Angeles? Well, I bought an existing company. And no, it was not bought with the proceeds of bank jobs, but from the money we raised from the gold that Freema brought with her from Sontral that the Prime Minister had given to us both to start our new lives together. We live a comfortable life but the majority, if not most of the profits, we donate to charities. Not in one-off payments, though. I think that is a flawed strategy because once the money is spent the charity is back to square one again and looking for more donations. Rather, my novel solution is say, for arguments sake, to put a million pounds into a trust fund for the charity. The charity cannot touch the capital. It is the yearly interest that is given annually to the charity so in effect they have a perpetual source of income instead of living a hand-to-mouth existence. So in my own way I am leaving a rock solid and lasting legacy.

Now before I relocated, I paid my friends in the bookies one last visit. Amazingly, Bob has bought a microwave oven and a television set, so it is not such a wretched life he is leading after all. When I told Bob I was going to live in Los Angeles, he said, "I will be hitting that Scoop Six one of these days, Johnny Boy and when I do, I will come and see you in Los Angeles and then we can go to that Santa Anita racetrack." Oh dear, he will never learn. It's funny; I met a guy once who said he was going to pray for an improvement in Bob's life. His prayers must have been answered.

As for Brian, his girlfriend has moved in with him.

I said, "She will put you in an early grave."

He replied, "Yes I know, but what a way to go!" He is happy; that is the main thing.

After leaving the bookies for the last time, I took one more walk through Leeds City Centre, where I heard the sound of the South American musicians again. I had to stop and listen to them one more time and at the end of their performance, the guy who had spoken to me the first time caught my attention.

He came over to me, smiling, and said, "You look much happier now, much more at peace with yourself."

I smiled back and thanked him and continued on my way.

As for my life, I still had nightmares about my experiences but over the passage of time and with the love of a good woman, they became less frequent and less intense. One particular night I had a dream in which I saw my parents, but that was not all. As I got closer to them, I could see other figures appearing and I smiled as standing before me were Kronos, his wife and two children, as well as Adema and his wife and son. Of course, it was an honour and a privilege to see them all.

My father said to me, "Well done, son. You have done us all proud."

I tried to get even closer to them but I could hear Freema's voice calling my name. My mother smiled and then waved me back, along with everybody else. I told them how much I loved them and then I began to wake up. As I did so, it felt like sandpaper was being rubbed against my cheek. Of course I realised what it was straight away. I opened my eyes and yes, it was Felix, licking my face with his tongue that was as rough as a Canadian bear's backside.

There was also a little girl... yes, my daughter. She had hold of Kev and was saying, "Take me to Disneyland."

Kev replied, "No, I cannot. You are not the Guardian."

Freema then said to me, "Oh, so you have decided to wake up and about time, too. Can you bring these two under control? The cat has started climbing up the curtains again and will you tell our daughter that when she goes on a sleepover to her friends, to stop pointing up at the night sky, at Sontral's sun, and saying, 'My mummy comes from a planet that orbits that star.'"

I laughed and beckoned them both to come over to me, whereupon I put my arms around them both and told them how much I loved them.

Freema replied, "You silly boy."

Yes, this is my life now and so proud of it I am, too, and alas this is where my story ends. But I think it is only right and proper that I give the last word in this epic story as I did the first words, to that Unknown Soldier who, along with millions of his comrades, gave their lives so that we could have a future.

I know not what the future holds, I know not what it brings, I only know what has passed and what tears that would bring. Now we must go forward with our heads held high, together in our belief in God and what we know is right.

END

© John Davenport

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