

The Kylapitar

(The Author's Cut)

by

Phil Cocker

Copyright Phil Cocker 2014

Published by Numpty Publishing at Smashwords

Part of the Eric Peterson Series.

Other books by Phil Cocker.

2 Years, 2 Weeks, 2 Lives

The Kylapitar (formerly published in paperback).

And coming soon in the Eric Peterson series

Worlds Apart.

Earthbound.

The Kylapitar was first published in Great Britain in 2009

As a Numpty paperback

By Numpty Publishing.

Copyright Philip Cocker 2009

The right of Philip Cocker to be identified as the author

of the work has been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of Numpty Publishing.

Printed in the UK by PMM Group.

Original Version published in Paperback

ISBN 978-0-9563302-1-5

EBook Version, published at Smashwords\

ISBN 978-0-9563302-3-9

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##### Acknowledgements.

Once again, for everyone who has cajoled me to keep going. From Sam's tiny nugget of an idea for The Kylapitar, that helped me create a whole set of universes held within this series of novels, through to my very good friends Toby & Di, helping me to keep focused while I changed my life around. From Neil for believing in a marketing strategy and to all of the Agents who so kindly refused this work, but wanted me to keep going to find a way of getting these stories to you, my (hopefully) interested, amused and engrossed reader.

This is also for the gorgeous Loafy for making me realise what is truly important in life. To the lovely Hannah for the wonderful cover artwork and finally, to my beloved Paula whose single desire was to want to read an actual copy of the book.

I can only thank you all.

So, why "The Author's Cut"?

This a little like the Directors Cut version of a film, only by the Author, obviously. I have since drafted the next two novels in the series, along with the first, and within those have added new stories and characters, that suddenly disappeared from the readers eyes in the original version of this book. So, I decided to create this new version, including the same characters, and their stories interwoven within the novel.
Lost and Found.

Bang!

Eric sat in a puddle, his eyes closed, rubbing the rapidly growing bump in the centre of his forehead. He wondered what had crashed into him. He wasn't in a good mood that morning to start with. His mum had nagged him to get the usual chores done around the house and with everything that had happened in the last month, he just didn't give a damn. He didn't care about putting the bins out, or mowing lawns, and now, to top it all, he had a banging headache and a very wet bum.

Leaning back onto his hands he raised his soggy jeans out of the puddle and replayed the last few seconds in his mind, as something wasn't right. His mum had asked him to "Nip to the shops for some milk, Love" and he'd thrown on his coat, even though it was a very warm morning. Not wanting to face the world yet, he pulled the hood up over his head before trudging down the alley that ran along the side of his house on the way to the local supermarket. Approaching the main road someone came charging around the corner. Neither had time to stop and they'd slammed into each other, literally head on.

He rubbed his forehead. The bandages from his last accident, when he'd been found unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, had been removed only two weeks before, and he wondered if he'd now need new ones.

His mind flashed back to the time of his previous accident, a month previous, and everything went blank. No matter how many times or how hard he tried, there was nothing. At 14 years old, Eric could recall most of his short life, but this was a huge chunk that had now simply vanished, as if wiped off a memory card. These were the two weeks leading up to and after the accident and it frustrated him.

He came back to his current predicament, drips of muddy, grit-filled water dripped off his back-side, and a thought struck him. It must be hurting, because I'm sure that what just hit me was something that couldn't have hit me, something impossible, because it was..........

He stopped rubbing, fearful at what he was about to see. Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his waist down, careful to not let it touch the water. He opened his eyes, and saw nothing there. This was quite perplexing. He turned his head to the left and there was his best friend Tom, also sat on the floor massaging his head.

"Aaarrrgghhhhh" Eric screamed, backing away on all fours from his friend.

"All my giddyants!" Tom replied in shock.

Eric closed his eyes, as he couldn't quite believe them. This wasn't happening. He opened them again, thinking he was hallucinating, probably caused by colliding with such force. "Aaarrrgghhhhh, NO, NO, NO, YOU'RE NOT REAL YOU'RE..." he scrambled away from Tom as fast as he could, until he hit a garage wall. He clamped his hand back over his eyes, trying to get away from this nightmare.

Eric's mind flashed to just over a week ago, when he was dressed in his best trousers and clean white shirt. He wore his School blazer and a black tie, and he remembered the tears rolling down his face as he threw a handful of dirt onto a hard, unfeeling, lifeless, oak coffin. The wind lashed the rain viciously across the cemetery, stinging the faces of the huge crowd who'd attended. They'd had all four seasons that day. The hailstorm that only lasted several seconds was probably the bleakest moment of the whole morning. Although Eric recalled the thought that Tom would have been in fits of giggles watching the vicar constantly sweeping the little frozen balls off his bible. Alas, he then saw the coffin, coated in its cool, white blanket, and it didn't seem real that his best friend was lying in there, dead.

Eric went through that day as if he was and actor in a very surreal play, where he hadn't learnt the lines. He knew to say thank you and to smile when people said kind words to him, but he had never realised about all the emotions he'd have to face. He replayed the moments as he stepped away from the graveside, his mum comforting him, his head drowning with the terrible feelings of pain and sorrow. He could have been a thousand galaxies away, he felt so lost.

Eric snapped out of the memory as the pebble-dashed wall of 228 Brownside Road dug deeper into his back. He was pressing his skin into it, trying as hard as he could to find a small gap between the concrete sectional pieces that would let him squeeze through and flee this current horror.

"It can't be... but, but..." stuttered Eric.

"Sure is, but I've no time to explain all this" said Tom, holding out a hand to help his living friend up.

"No way - You're..." he hesitated, as he knew this wasn't real, "You're......" he struggled to come to terms with the word he was about to utter. "You're dead! We buried you. I saw you in the Chapel of Rest. Is this a dream?"

"Nope, no dream, and yes, I died" Tom looked up and down the alley, "but I need to help you up, and we have to move quickly, I'm in trouble, and you're the only one I can trust", he said earnestly.

Eric took hold of Tom's hand gingerly, shuddering at how cold it was.

"It's OK, it's not going to drop off, I've only been dead 2 weeks", Tom said as he hoisted Eric to his feet.

"Stop talking like that", Eric shook his head in disbelief.

"Why?" Tom stopped and looked at his friend, hoping he'd believe him. "I hate to say this Mate, but it's true. I'm a stiffy, a cold fish, a gonner, I've been pushing up the daisies, I'm the finest teenage worm food money can buy."

"Get lost Tom, you're not real." Eric walked away, rubbing his hand, trying to stem the icy feeling that was creeping along his fingers towards his palm. He decided to go home and turned round, but Tom was still standing there, alive and well, as if nothing had ever happened.

Eric couldn't bear it any longer and set off down the alley, past the apparent ghost or zombie or whatever it was that used to be his friend. He started mumbling to himself. "He's dead, we buried him, and I must be having an episode."

"An episode of what?" Said Tom, keeping pace at Eric's side. "Dr.Who?"

"I'm not listening to your twittering 'cus you're not real." Eric waved his hands across each other, trying to cancel it all out. "I've banged my head and that has caused me to have some sort of psychological episode." He continued with his reasoning, even though he didn't believe he was actually talking to anyone. "The counsellor said I would have moments like this"

"Whatever, but can we hurry up, Mate?" Tom glanced back towards the main road. "Listen, I am real. I might be dead, but I do have feelings"

"WHAT!" screamed Eric, slapping his hands onto either side of his face "You're dead, but you do have feelings. So you do admit you're dead then and I'm not going mad?"

"Yip, I'm dead, as I've said about a thousand times" he exhaled impatiently. "And nope, the jacket for hugging yourself in is safely tucked away \- as we also need to be, so let's go back to your mum's garage, now." Tom looked worryingly back down the alley again, as he ushered Eric back to his house.

Lost.

"WHAAAAT?" Eklan screamed at her scientists standing around the perimeter of the laboratory, all were trying to not look guilty. "You're telling me he simply woke up and took it?"

The room was 10 metres square, one wall was glazed and opened halfway, cupboards lined the two sides and a bank of computer workstations lined the far wall. In the centre of the room was a large island of low-level cupboards, approximately 3 metres long by 1 metre wide with a smooth metal surface. Above was an array of bright lights fixed into a manoeuvrable arm, clearly illuminating everything they wanted to work upon. Some of the cupboard doors were open, an array of medical equipment on show, from portable scanning devices to vicious cutting instruments.

All the scientists looked from one to another, each one not wanting to be the one who answered their fearsome leader.

"Well?" Eklan's voice was now a low growl, the anger contained as far as possible for the alien commander. She had climbed the ranks in the Rexon Army over a very short period, willing to do anything and go anywhere, getting the results her seniors always wanted, in places where many male Rexon would not go. She'd gained a reputation for letting her anger get the better of her, and then letting loose on any unsuspecting target, including her own soldiers, and this had so far limited her career. Yet, now, under the mentoring of the renowned Military Leader K'Nash, she'd spent time learning skills in controlling her anger, as he directed her talents to better use.

Eklan drew a line down the bridge of her nose which started in the centre of her forehead, and ran all the way down, finishing in a bony point, a few centimetres below her chin. This gave the Rexon features the look of an axe blade bursting out of their face. Her long spindly index finger arched back on itself under the pressure. It flicked off the end of her chin when she'd finished the relaxation technique. This was one of many she'd been taught as a means to curb her anger.

It didn't work.

Eklan balled her hands, her fingernails digging into her palm, breaking the skin, making her tangerine coloured blood run drip onto the floor. She raised her fist up, and then slammed it back down onto the nearest work surface, the adjacent computers jumped in shock, along with the scientists.

Her eyes turned to the door as it slid open. "Harrap, tell me," Her voice surprisingly calm towards the Lead Scientist as he casually strolled into the room. "Where is my portable transporter?"

Harrap was carrying a roughly hewn sandwich from the adjacent kitchen area, it's live contents wriggling frantically, trying to escape before being devoured. He was chewing slowly as he raised his arm and pointed to the far left corner of the room, and looked at the empty computer work station. "But..." He said through a full mouth, spitting particles of sandwich as he looked at the empty desk. Harrap glanced around the others, then to the large slab table in the centre of the room where his teenage human subject had been lying only minutes before. "But..." His eyes darted back around the people and places as his brain worked. "But..."

Eklan marched over, picked up the lead scientist by the throat, thrust him back through the automatic doors and slammed him into the wall at the far side of the corridor. "But nothing." She fumed. "Your little scientific experiment has gone and woken up, then took my portable transporter and beamed himself off the ship."

Harrap choked under her grip.

"So, not only did you tell me this morning that he wasn't the right boy I was looking for, after weeks of tests and waiting for the results of The Original getting to us out here in the far reaches of this desolate universe." Her nostrils flared out as she breathed, "You then start to do other experiments on him, this..."

Harrap tried to speak, but Eklan's grip was too strong. His voice came out like a rasping cough.

Eklan dropped him to the floor, hearing her mentor's voice finally sink in through the red fog of anger "You get few answers from them when they're dead!"

Harrap coughed a couple of times, spitting the mouthful of sandwich out, as he rubbed his throat. "Sorry Commander, but it's been difficult getting the information out of the Rexon medical computers to test this Tom boy.

"Tom, yes, Tom." Eklan repeated sounding like she was trying to use his name as a method of calming herself down as she paced up and down the corridor.

"We were attempting to see how fast the latest set of virus samples would infiltrate the nervous system, but needed the subject to be nearer the normal state of consciousness to get accurate timings. Their dormant state is too slow to judge," Harrap tried to explain, stopping to move the muscles in his throat for a second, as he attempted to relieve the pain. "And while my team were slowly bringing him out of stasis, I decided we had enough time to go and grab some food."

Eklan's pacing up and down the corridor made the doors into the laboratory slide open and close on each pass. Inside, the scientists huddled together, trying to piece together the conversation that was being held outside in the corridor from the rhythmical snippets they heard every time the doors opened.

"And then when I returned." Harrap continued, "Well, the human was gone, and you were here."

"Excellent deduction for a scientist, I'm amazed you're not on the Council with such a keen mind." Eklan gripped her pointed teeth together and took a long slow breath as she tried to keep more of the venomous sarcasm at bay. "You were supposed to be checking my transporter and servicing it, not letting some worthless human take it for a test flight."

"I know, I know, but all I did was leave the room for a few seconds, and..." He waved his arm at the opened door.

All the scientists in the laboratory took a half step back as their team leader pointed towards them.

Eklan turned back to Harrap. "YOU are in charge, YOU are the one I gave my transporter to, YOU are the one running these new experiments." She closed in, taking a step nearer as she made each point, until she was now in his face once again, a finger jammed under his chin. "YOU had better find out where he's gone." Eklan gripped his collar and dragged him back into the laboratory.

Everyone stepped as far back as they could, trying to work out which way Eklan would turn next, so that they could be out of her range of anger.

"So, who is your second in command in here?"

Harrap didn't want to speak, as he knew what would happen, yet as hard as he tried to control his body, his mind gave the command and his eyes glanced sideways to Crough.

That was all it took.

Eklan whipped her gun out and fired once at the unsuspecting scientist. A plastic paintball splattered against his chest. Crough stood shocked, his mouth wide open. It took a few seconds before he realised what had happened, and smiled, looking around his colleagues and letting out a few short laughs, looking at the splatter of paint on his lab coat.

"No, no, no." Eklan waggled a finger at him. "I wouldn't be smiling and laughing if I was you."

Crough looked back down and noticed the paint had changed shape, shrinking and seeping through his clothes. He looked bemused at the change, and opened his lab coat to see where it was going. The paint was now seeping through his shirt, and onto his skin, tickling him. He giggled for a second, before he stopped sharply, a look of horror on his face, no sound being uttered as the shock gripped all the way down to his soul.

A small hole appeared in the centre of his chest, the edges burning and melting as it grew from a tiny point to the size of a golf ball in a few seconds.

Crough leant back against the workstations behind him, a puzzled look on his face. He brought his hand up and touched the edge of the slowly expanding hole, which was now the size of a tennis ball.

"I wouldn't if I was you." Eklan glanced over at the melting scientist. "Oops, too late."

Crough's fingers dabbed the edge, and he brought them up to his face as they started to burn and melt.

"I did warn you." Eklan huffed. "As you can see, this new toy fires a small plastic encased blob of liquid, in which there are suspended thousands of microscopic Nano robots." She glanced at the end of the gun, puffing away the imaginary smoke before holstering it once more. "They sense the heat coming from the nearest body and will quickly source it out, but in doing so, as they get nearer to the warmth, they start to move faster and faster." She looked over at the now stricken scientist.

The others were also transfixed by the scene, a mixture of disgust and scientific curiosity on their faces as their colleague melted from the centre out.

The nearest took a step away from their colleague.

"Don't worry, they use the body's heat to build up their momentum, but they still only have a limited range, so can't spread to more than one life form at a time, unless you actually make contact with them, but even then, it could be limited to just losing the ends of your fingers." She waggled hers in the air. "Fascinating don't you think?" She asked no one in particular. "It's a wonderful invention from the Council's military laboratory. It's a wonderful means of getting those last few answers out of a subject, or a way to make them suffer."

The hole was now the size of a melon, and Crough's legs started to buckle and give way. He gripped the worktop for support, but his strength faded as his heart was melted, and he collapsed onto the floor. The glow around the edge of the hole diminished and faded to nothing.

"There, all done." Eklan turned back to Harrap. "And the same will happen to you and the rest of your colleagues if you don't get me everything back." Eklan held her gaze on the frightened Lead scientist for a few seconds before she turned and left.

As the door opened Harrap coughed to clear his throat.

"What?" Eklan stopped in the open doorway.

A thought came to him. "The transporters system was locked, and the only destination on it would be the last one you'd used."

"So you're saying he went home?" Eklan let out a laugh. "Excellent." She continued out of the door, but changed direction to go to the main hangar on the lower deck of her ship.

Watchful Eye

Major Ian Jackson was sat in a leather faced desk chair in the front bedroom of number 57 Steelgate Drive. He had a relatively clear view, through the window, and from the bank of monitors that were sat below the window of the target residence. Their viewpoint wasn't directly opposite Eric Peterson's house, but it was close enough to be able to see almost all activity in and around the house. They'd set up perimeter cameras in the overgrown cooking apple tree that was in the garden behind Eric's house, at either the end of the alleyway that ran down the side of Eric's house, and on the house next door. This gave them sight of almost every point of entry that anyone could use, bar someone tunnelling up from underground, although they had seismic sensors in the midst of their wealth of equipment that would check for just that scenario.

The bedroom and lounge windows had had a special screen fitted on the inside. This allowed full view for anyone on the inside of the house, while creating the illusion of someone living there to any passer-by. A series of cameras and projectors produced an image of curtains being drawn, television reflections, movements in front of room lights, and even a cat would come and sit at the window every so often.

Ian's phone buzzed as the late Freddie Mercury's voice started to whisper-sing the first line of the lesser known Queen hit, "I'm the Invisible Man." He glanced at the caller ID on his standard issue 5 inch screen smartphone. "Excellent, you got my text Sir." He sat upright in his chair, the automatic response of his 22 years of military discipline. It had been a balmy mid-summers night on watch, the type when many would sit out until the wee small hours in their shirt sleeves, enjoying a barbeque and a drink. He and Captain Lancaster had opened the windows on the rear of the house to try to let the trapped heat out, and any welcome cool breeze in.

"Yes, sit-rep." Their commanding officer, Colonel Gordon Kelsall's face appeared on his phone.

"Sir, it's been nice and quiet, as usual, up until a few minutes ago."

"Go on." Colonel Kelsall was intrigued by the change in events. He'd had a team of surveillance officers watching Eric's house on Steelgate Drive for the past few weeks, ever since the incident that ended in Tom's death and Eric's accident, and it had always been reported as being very quiet.

"Tom Barratt literally bumped into Eric."

"Sorry Ian, but I thought you said Tom Barratt."

"Yes Sir."

"Oh!" Gordon couldn't think of anything else to say, knowing that he and Ian had been at the exceptionally well attended funeral of Eric's best friend a couple of weeks previously.

"I know." Ian took in a deep breath. "So, can we intervene?"

"No." Gordon quickly answered. He then paused for a second. Ian watched his Commanding officer lift his head to look out of the window that looked over Morecambe bay to the distant mountains of the Lake District. "Sorry, no," Gordon's voice had softened. "Let's see what occurs."

"Sorry?" Ian was confused and glanced at Captain Lancaster, who had walked into the room after hearing the conversation start and simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Look," Gordon sighed, looking directly at the little camera on the top of his computer monitor. "I know you've got history and a connection with the boy, but we can't just burst into there without knowing what will happen."

"Sorry sir, but we'll not know what will happen if don't find out why a dead teenager has suddenly appeared at his best friend's house."

"I know, but you nearly blew your cover last time." Gordon rubbed his hand across his forehead, keeping a tension headache at bay.

"If I hadn't gone in..." Ian realised that he was clenching his teeth as the anger started to rise, and he calmed himself down. "If I hadn't gone in, then we might have lost him completely."

"I realise that, but thankfully, no-one saw you, well apart from her," he said the name with a sneer. "But it could have been worse."

"Sir, she'd turned up, had thankfully mistaken Tom for Eric, injected him with some killer disease, and was about to resolve the mistaken identity with the right target."

"Look, we don't know it was a killer disease, seeing as you've just told me he's turned up."

"Sir, unless the medical equipment and staff at the Royal Preston Hospital were mistaken, and then he's dug himself out of a sealed coffin and through 2 metres of dirt, I think we can safely say that he was dead." The anger had started to rise once more. "You were at his funeral."

"OK, but you cannot be 100% certain that this is Tom Barratt."

"And that's why I want to get in there and find out what's going on." Ian explained. "I know these boys; I think they trust me enough to let me help them."

There was silence at the other end of the call while Gordon once again looked out of his windows across Morecambe Bay to the distant fells and mountains of the Lake District. It was a nice clear morning; the tops could be seen clearly, no clouds gripping to them. He felt a desire to just get up and walk out of his office and climb one or two while he pondered this problem. He knew he was fortunate living where he did. And that freedom of having the open countryside right on his doorstep meant he had lots of time to be alone and simply think as clear as the mountain air. Everything was put into perspective when stood atop a Cumbrian mountain. The world looked so tiny, so distant, that he could focus on the single main problem in his life.

He so wanted to do that right now, but knew he didn't have that luxury.

"No, and that's my final answer."

"Sir?" Ian replied through gritted teeth.

"You're on a sit and watch recon only, no interaction." Gordon explained. "Let's not jump in like last time."

"Excuse me Sir." Ian interjected angrily. "But if I hadn't jumped in at that time, then Eric Peterson could have been abducted or worse still killed."

"True, true, but as you've just said, Tom's come back, so being killed might only been part of the process."

Ian heard the words and had to agree with them deep down, even though he wanted to get in there, as he could feel some danger was about to occur to one or both of these boys. Call it a detective's hunch, or intuition, or whatever, Ian occasionally had these feelings, and in 99 out of 100 times, he was always right.

"Look, you managed to save your cover last time, saying you saw flashes of lights and heard a bang as you were walking up to the door to bring some news for Eric from the school about his playful abduction by the young thug Armer." Gordon explained his reasoning for his decision. "It's only because of Eric's amnesia and the fact that his mother knows us that she played along with the plan, but it could have been so different."

"Sir, I had that feeling then, and I have it now."

"And I'd nearly always go with your intuition, because I've never had anyone under my command that was so good at seeing the outcome before it occurred, or at least being wary of it."

"Thank you sir, but I am right nearly every time."

"So why can't this be the one time that you're not?"

Ian sighed, because he'd been on a good winning streak for a while, and always had that tiny niggle that at some point, he would be wrong. "I know, I know."

"Right, so stay put this time, no kicking down doors, gun raised, and lets just sit and wait, you can clearly see the house, and if they leave and use the alley, you can get round to Brownside Road in a matter of seconds and follow them."

Ian smiled at the all action hero image he had in his head, wondering how it would have looked in a movie. "OK, we'll wait and see."

Pool.

"You'd better stay here." Eric pointed to the end of the drive, where Tom could stay out of sight, using the adjacent conifer hedge as cover. He set off into the house to get the garage keys and started to wonder what was going on. He was talking to a zombie, as that was all he could think of calling him. Alas, it was nothing to what the neighbours would think if they saw him with Tom, as most had been at the funeral, supporting Eric and his mother, Emma.

Hurrying inside the house, he bounced a quick 'Hi' off the walls of the lounge and headed to the key drawer in the dining room. A brief rummage found what he was looking for. He palmed the keys and headed towards the back door, and nearly had his second head-on collision of the day as his mum appeared from the other side of the fridge with a coy smile on her face.

"Going somewhere Love?"

"Erm, the garage, just going to pot a few balls on the pool table." He paused for a second, "On my own" he added, then realised how daft that sounded.

"Ah Love", she said affectionately, gently stroking his fringe back into place "you haven't done that since, well since...you know......." Emma.Peterson looked at her son to see if he was going to get upset, and was quite pleased to see that he was getting over it. Either that or he hadn't been listening to what she was about to say. She waited a beat whilst looking deep into his eyes.

"Yeah, good days" Eric smiled at her, desperately wanting to leave and continue the surreal morning he was having..

Emma smiled at the young man before her. Eric was very much like his father in so many ways. He was only just below his height, and he had his dad's athletic build. The shoulders and arms filling out, as the muscles grew stronger.

Eric's father, Simon, had mousy coloured wavy hair, and he'd even joked to it waving goodbye, as it had started to recede before his untimely death, only two short years ago. Thankfully, Eric had his mum's thick, dark, and very straight hair.

The last two weeks had not seen Eric put any gel on his hair, which she didn't like anyway, but Emma knew that this was because Eric was still feeling the loss of his friend. They had been inseparable, where one went, the other followed. That was in most things, from fashion through football, to which brand of hair gel held it for longer. She remembered many conversations with Simon over the years, where they compared the boys to Siamese twins. She smiled melancholically.

Eric was dying to get into the garage to find out if Tom was really alive, and that he wasn't going insane. He knew he had to end this awkward moment quickly, and said. "Mum, why don't you go and have your shower?"

She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I think I'd better, I have a lot to do today."

Eric watched as his mum made her way up the stairs. When he was confident that the coast was clear, he raced out through the backdoor to unlock the padlocks on the garage. He turned around and spied Tom at the end of the driveway, wide eyed, peering back at him through a couple of the branches of the conifer hedge that ran along the side of the driveway. He beckoned him, and watched in mild amusement as his friend scurried up the driveway towards the now opened door. Eric could hear his mum humming from the open bathroom window, the gentle patter of the shower keeping beat.

"Quick, quick, get in here out of sight before my mum sees you, she'll probably..."

"Die? I know it soooooo well," Tom rolled his eyes round to exaggerate the word as Eric pushed him into the garage. "But I wouldn't recommend it" he added, stumbling over the concrete lip.

"Do all zombies have such a morbid sense of humour?" asked an annoyed Eric, as he slammed the door a little too quickly, making it clang loudly.

"Yeah, well I ended up in heaven and found it was dead boring!" Tom slapped the edge of the pool table, laughing at his bad joke.

"Not funny", was Eric's reply, but it was said with a smile on his face. "I've missed you Mate, I really have"

"Same here. Not a lot of room for a game of pool in a coffin." He replied with a knowing look on his face.

"Sorry, but Mum said I should put something personal in with you, and I didn't want it propped up in here reminding me of you every time I came in. So I remembered all those good times we'd had and put your cue in with you"

"Yeah, well thanks a lot Mate, 'cus now I've come back and mine's stuck six feet under in the cemetery." Tom argued his point. "And I have nothing to play with, except for your manky thing, and the stubby one for shots down the side." He looked at both cues and then back at Eric with a smile on his face, "but I bet I can still beat you with either one of those."

"Pretty cocky for someone who's been dead for 2 weeks." Eric decided he might as well go along with the dead-pan humour.

Tom racked up the balls. "Well let's see then."

Eric couldn't believe that this was real. His dead friend had turned up out of the blue and was about to have a game of pool with him. He shook his head at what the counsellor would think of all this at his next session. It would make a great movie, if it wasn't so stupid. He looked across the green baize at Tom, his best friend, who had died of a strange virus only two weeks earlier. They'd both been in hospital, nobody really knowing what had happened. Tom had been visiting Eric's bed and mentioned that he had some strange virus and showed him a small rash on his stomach. Moments later he was struggling to breathe. The medical staff tried CPR, but it was to no avail, as Tom's heart had given up.

Eric swallowed hard as the memory faded. It was too much to take in. His previously dead friend was telling him that he'd come back because he needed his help. That thought alone was enough to intrigue Eric, and it was that single reason that now kept him in the garage wanting to know what else was going to happen

"So," said Tom. "Let's get this game underway. I may be dead, but I can still beat you any day."

"Oh yeah," replied Eric, thinking that if this was a dream, he might as well enjoy it. "Want to bet?" And he bent over to take the first shot.

"Yeah, I do, I'll bet you a fiver."

Eric suddenly stood bolt upright as the thought hit him. "What's a dead person want with a fiver?"

"Oh shut it Eric!" Tom replied, "As you can plainly see, I'm not dead anymore, and having come from my grave I have no money at all. Don't you think it would be better if I showed up at my mum's with some flowers or something?"

"You've got to be kidding." Eric replied, horrified at the thought. "You can't go round there, the shock would...." he let the sentence hang, as he thought of the real consequences.

There was a moment's uneasy silence between them before Tom smirked, knowing he couldn't hold his joke back for too long.

"Anyway" Eric continued, changing the subject. "Let's just get started. Oh and one more thing. Your dead meat."

"Hello," Tom said mimicking a comedian from a film they'd both watched many times, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm already dead."

"Oh, yes...sorry." And the sorrow returned in Eric's eyes.

"Cheer up Mate; everything will be OK" assured Tom, who smiled as he could feel it deep down that he had come to the right person for help. "Right then, I'm breaking."

Eric didn't feel any better. "Why? You do it all the time. Why can't I have a go this once?" complained Eric.

"The reason why you can't go is because I'm the one who's dead. Also this game might be the last one I play... forever."

"Have it your way then." Eric replied, a quiver of sadness in his voice.

Deception.

"Leader K'Nash, how are you this morning." Eklan answered her personal communicator. The long-range call from her Supreme Commander's ship orbiting Ansolon in the Rho galaxy had been patched into the ships communication system, and forwarded to her by someone that needed to be re-taught the lesson of not passing on calls when not required. She held the device out in front of her and a holographic 3d image of her infamous leader grew from the centre of the device. She tried her best to smile at him, making sure her features were not giving her away.

"Eklan, finally, I'd been thinking that you'd been killed the amount of times your people lied to me and told me you were busy, or asleep, or in the midst of a technical operation, or off ship, and so on and so forth." K'Nash was reading from a list he'd started to compile after not being able to speak to his Commander for the tenth time. His head tilted back up to look at her. "So, what's been the real reason why you've been hiding from me for the past few weeks?" The anger in his voice was clear.

"Straight to the point, Sire, I've always admired that in you."

"Yes, yes, very flattering, I'm not amused." K'Nash moved forward, making his image expand, the limits of the portable holographic communicator being reached as it distorted the front of his face out, making it bulge like a balloon about to burst. "What's gone wrong, and how are you trying to fix it, and hide the error?"

Eklan swallowed hard as she thought of a good enough reply. "It's not him." She decided the truth was the best option, as it was always easier to stick to the truth, and not have to remember the lie she'd devised next time they spoke.

"WHAT!" K'Nash screamed.

Eklan's head bowed a little, "It's taken a few weeks to confirm, but we captured the wrong boy." She decided to be frugal with the truth, up until the point of the last few hours, when Tom had woken up from an experiment and has run away with her portable transporter.

"You said you'd killed the right one, and the other you met had merely been a friend, before the Jackson human appeared and made you run away."

Eklan gritted her teeth at the inference of her cowardice. "I made sure I safely escaped sir, so that I could continue your work."

"Let's agree to each ones version of the facts shall we, as I don't have a lot of time." K'Nash waved it away with his hand. "So why has it taken so long?"

"My scientists have been struggling to get the information out of Rexon Medical Records for the Special One."

"Pish Posh!" He huffed.

"No, it wasn't just the records, but a sample of his blood that we needed, and it's taken a while for the courier drone to reach us, as they don't have light speed capability.

K'Nash let a low rumbling growl creep out from his lips, his only means of accepting her word, based off his own experience with the Rexon courier drones. "Ok, so when did you confirm?"

"Only this morning, Sire."

"And how long were you going to leave it before you told me?"

"I've only just left the scientists now, and was on my way to tell you."

K'Nash's holographic head rotated around before her. "And where were you going to perform this ceremony, in the main Hangar?" K'Nash smiled back as he turned back to look at Eklan. "As you have to remember that the ship you're using was once my little ship, and I know every inch of it." He tilted his head to one side as he looked at her. "So, what's gone wrong?"

Eklan knew she was cornered. She'd normally be like a feral animal when in this position, and attack, alas she was up against someone far nastier and stronger than her. She didn't have enough information to bypass him, unlike some of his other protégés, Prant for instance, a Commander who had been relocated to the barren desert planet of Scarx, it's 3 suns increasing the temperature of the planet to over 140 degrees. Prant seemed to get the best of everything, and word was he had a member of the Rexon Council helping him. Yet here she was, in K'Nash's hand-me-down ship, trying to get hold of a human youth to try a new serum on. Eklan had fallen foul of a simple case of mistaken identity. It had been her fault, thinking that the lone child in the bedroom was Eric, not knowing what he looked like, but she had assumed, and had been wrong. The boys had been having a sleep-over, and Eric had gone downstairs to make a late night snack to keep the two growing teenagers going into the early hours during their mammoth Movie fest. Eklan had arrived and injected the unsuspecting youth with the new serum, and then Eric had come in, and she'd thought then that maybe she'd made her mistake. While trying to apprehend Eric, Major Ian Jackson had burst in. Eklan had thrown Eric down the stairs as a distraction, so that she could escape.

It had taken two weeks of waiting, for Tom's slow death and funeral, to get her hands on him once again. Then it was another two weeks for the blood test from the Original to arrive at her ship for them to find out if they had indeed got the correct person.

They hadn't.

And now, Harrap had started to continue tests on the human boy, and he'd woken up and stolen her Kylapitar, the portable transporter and weapon. What could she tell her Leader, without bending the truth too far.

"My lead scientist was performing some new experiments on the human, and he..." she hesitated, scouring her mind for the correct word, the one that would sound the least like a mistake by her. "He woke up and escaped."

K'Nash was very quiet for a few moments. Then he burst out laughing, a rattling croaking sound that sounded like an old man having a coughing fit whilst shaking an tin can full of pebbles.

"You've lost a human child?" He managed to keep his laughter in check long enough to get the question out, and then continued to laugh heartily. "I can't wait to tell Prant about this one."

Eklan was fuming, but also relieved that her leader was taking it so well.

"He'll love to hear how you've completely lost the plot." He laughed out loud, "as well as losing the boy, I didn't realise I was so funny."

"Neither did I Sire." Eklan's level of mirth was not the same.

"In that case I think you'd better continue searching wherever you were heading."

"My point exactly." Eklan nearly breathed a huge sigh of relief, but knew that the communicator was two way, and K'nash would see it. "Thank you Sire and I'll keep you informed of my progress as soon as I apprehend him."

She cut the communication off before K'nash could reply, thinking he'd still be chuckling anyway, and not realise what she'd done. Eklan then dashed down the corridor to the Hangar, only stopping to grab Klarg and Weyin, her two most trusted soldiers along the way.

Facts & Fiction

"Well, I died and was buried." Tom explained as he broke off.

"I know that part, I was there," replied Eric.

"What a coincidence, so was I," giggled Tom. "Sorry about my dead-pan humour, I can't help myself." He held his hand up in an admittance of guilt. "Next thing I know, I wake up on a big metal table in a huge room, the size of the school gym, only with no windows. There were loads of other bodies hung up from the ceiling in long plastic strips with fluids flowing in and out of everywhere." He pulled his face in disgust, "And I mean everywhere – yuk!"

Eric needed a split second for his imagination to run riot before he added his own "Yuk!"

"Then the door opened at the far end of the room," Tom continued, he turned towards the garage door, his arms directing the story. "And in walked some strange looking people." Tom then leant over the table, aimed and potted the yellow ball. "Ha, beat that." Looking up he saw Eric was lost in thought, "Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Erm, Yeah, of course I am, dead, room, plastic, bodies, and..." reconciling all the information his brain was taking in.

"I think you've already guessed what I'm about to say Mate, 'cus as they got closer I saw they weren't strange looking people." Tom raised one eyebrow knowingly. "Yep, they were Aliens" said Tom finishing Eric's thoughts. "Anyway, they said..."

"Were these aliens like the ones off the TV?" Eric asked wanting to believe Tom, but not able to think of anything else to ask.

"What?"

"You know, pointy heads, big oval eyes... no hair?" Eric added, wanting to understand.

"No, they looked more like us, with a bit of hair, their heads a bit thinner, a really weird bony nose that went all down their face and down to the chin, spooky eyes and long spindly fingers. Anyway, that's not the important point."

Eric could now hear a little anger and desperation creeping into Tom's voice.

"The lead one was telling a couple of his lab technicians that I'd been reanimated to near consciousness to help them." Tom continued, "They come to Earth to take dead people out of their graves that are only a couple of weeks gone, so that we're still quite fresh." He nodded as if this seemed like a reasonable idea. "They zap us with something that brings us back to life, and then experiment on us." Tom shivered involuntarily, "but he told them that I was supposed to be near the one, or something like that," He shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever that means and I was being used as a test subject for an improved serum, whatever that is."

"What sort of experiments?" Puzzled Eric.

"Well, from what I could gather, it looks like they want to rid the Earth of the human race, for some reason. I can only presume that it's so that they can take over." Tom casually bent over and potted the blue ball. "Oh yes, still got the touch."

"WHAT!" Shrieked Eric, "KILL US ALL???"

"Shhh, Calm down." Tom reminded Eric that shouting could attract his mum's attention, "The lead one was quite chatty with the others so as they moved me from the big room to a side room, about the size of the science laboratories at school with a big window along one side, he told them that here's a lot less of them, so they can't use force. I think they're trying to find some weakness in the human body, and use that against the whole of humanity. So far, they've found a way of giving everybody a fatal cancer, but that would take centuries to get rid of us all, because some people could fight it off. They said that they now had an even better virus, and they were having phenomenal results somewhere. I'd been the first test subject on Earth, I presume that's how they killed me, and he'd made a new improved batch up to test on me first again. Thankfully it had to take a few more minutes to develop, so they all left, and I managed to escape with this."

"Whoa!" Eric held his hands up. "So you're saying an alien killed you."

"Yep, they came and injected me the night you ended up at the bottom of the stairs."

Eric was frustrated that he didn't remember. "But how come you don't remember that?"

Tom stopped his mouth agape. "I don't know." He thought for a second. "The drug must also clear your short term memory or something; I've seen that done on Star Trek." He dug around in his pocket then held out a device that resembled a top-of-the-range smartphone. He pressed his thumb against one side, and Eric watched in awe as a clear lid melted away, revealing a large central screen with three buttons below it. The casing was made out of a type of aluminium, although Eric noticed that it shimmered slightly, which he thought may have something to do with the lights in the garage. When Eric took it from Tom's outstretched hand, it felt strangely warm. He wondered if this was because it had just come out of his pocket, but he had the unnerving feeling that it was due to the unearthly material it was made from. The screen was dominated by three symbols in the centre, with a host of smaller ones around the edge.

Eric looked at the main symbols, trying to see if they meant anything to him when, "Hey, they've changed." He said to Tom, who came and stood next to him. "Look, they've done it again, only not all three this time." Eric looked up in wonder at his friend, his eyebrows rose, mirroring his surprise. They sniggered nervously at how ridiculous the other looked. Eric thought that the symbols resembled Mah-jong tiles. They changed again, and the boys watched in silence for a while, fascinated, as sometimes they all changed, sometimes just one, then another, but always every couple of seconds.

"I think it's important," Tom said. "Because one of them came into the experimentation room while I was on the table and started shouting at them. She then slapped it down on an adjacent desk, growled and then stormed off. The others looked really frightened of her, as if she was going to hurt them." He looked back at the device. "I think one of them had been using it without her permission. She wasn't happy at all." Tom looked straight at Eric, a touch of fear in his eyes. "I don't know what it does, it looks like a smartphone to me, but I bet it's a hell of a lot more than that really." Tom explained. "So I stole it and brought it to you for safe keeping, and to see if you can find out what it is" explained Tom.

"Of all the people on this world, why me?" asked Eric, bemused that his dead friend would pick him.

"Cus you're my best mate, and always will be."

This touched Eric, as he'd wanted to hear those words since Tom had died.

"Plus," Tom continued, "The fact that you're the only mate I can trust." Tom looked straight into Eric's eyes. "Now listen to me. I'm going to have to run. I can't let them catch me here, or I'll be putting you in danger as well."

"No way! I can hide you in here." Eric drew his arm around the garage. He looked at the years of items piled up all around. An old chair weighed down with unused winter coats, boxes of his old toys destined for a car boot sale had slumped against the wall, as if resting from years of being played with. The barbeque sat quietly waiting for the weather to clear long enough for it to welcome its next burger. He knew that could provide heat as well as cooking facilities for Tom. There were sleeping bags in bin liners, and he knew that there were a couple of airbeds and foot pumps around somewhere. This would make a perfect place to hang out and hide in.

Tom contemplated this kind offer for a moment. "As much as I'd love to stay and see my mum again," He ran his tongue across the back of his teeth and swallowed hard to keep his emotions in check. "I can't, it's Way too risky Mate."

"Why?" Eric pleaded.

"They'll find me soon enough, especially with their technology. If they can transport dead bodies up from their graves without a soul knowing, then they must be able to track me down. So, don't come looking for me Eric." He headed for the door. "Oh, and one more thing, see ya in heaven." His smile was weak, as he didn't want that to happen for a very long time. He had the same feeling once more; somehow he knew deep down that Eric was the only one who could help stop what was going on.

"But what about...?" Eric paused, a thousand things wanting to be said. The words that had filled his thoughts over the last few weeks burst forth, jamming his throat. Here he was, about to lose his best friend once again.

"What?" Tom asked. He looked desperate to get away.

"Nothing." He took a long hard look at Tom, feeling fortunate that he'd had this moment. "See you in heaven," sighed Eric, knowing that he had to let him go. He slipped the device into his pocket.

Intruder Alert.

Tom opened the garage door and stepped out to run down the driveway. He stopped. The seriousness of the situation hit him. For as far back as he could remember during his short life, his motto had always been, ask a sensible question and give a stupid answer. This had infuriated teachers at school as he had the intelligence to create a very witty answer, when the correct answer was easier to find, just nowhere near as funny. A fairly chunky lad in appearance, he'd lost weight very quickly while ill, giving him a leaner, fitter look. His mousy hair had its usual kink across the back of his head, and his ears stuck out. It had been noted many times that from behind, Tom looked like a taxi with the doors open. This didn't bother him too much, as his quick wit had always battled with the best anyone could throw at him, verbally or physically. He had found at an early age that a quip and a joke would get him out of many sticky situations. Unfortunately, it had also got him into a few, leading to a chipped tooth that helped him whistle odd words, and a couple of lumps defining his crooked nose when he hadn't quite got out of the way of a flying fist.

"Tom," Eric raised his voice enough to grab Tom's attention before he left, "What if my mum sees you?"

"Ah, I hadn't thought of that," Tom hesitated, before leaping back into the garage.

"I'll go and see what she's doing." Eric placed a warming hand on his friends shoulder. "Wait here."

Eric gave the downstairs rooms a quick glance; all seemed to be clear. He returned to the kitchen and gave Tom a thumbs up sign. He called out, "Mum!" to make sure that, if required, he would distract her from any upstairs windows as Tom made his escape. He was initially relieved when there was no reply.

"Mum!!!!" He raised his voice a little more, just in case she hadn't heard him first time. Still there was no answer. Eric made his way back to the living room, to find it as quiet as a graveyard.

"Strange!" he thought as he ran up the stairs and stopped on the landing to listen. There was nothing! He slowly crept into the small bedroom that had been converted into an office. Simon, Eric's Dad, had built a desk over the angled cut-in from the stairs and cupboards along the main wall. These were full of coloured paper and computer magazines, their free disks stacked haphazardly in a corner, and any other bits and pieces that Eric didn't want to throw away, but would hide in there when he had to tidy up his room. His mum wasn't on the computer. "This is getting a little spooky" he whispered to himself. He went into his room and sat on the edge of his bed, wondering where his mum had gone.

Breaking the eerie silence, he heard a strange thud from his mum's bedroom. His heart started to race. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled in anticipation and fear as the adrenalin raced through his veins. All had gone very silent once more.

He heard the lawnmower start up at the front of the house and slowly raised himself up to look out of the window. There was his mum just starting on the front lawn. His initial thought was panic, wondering if his mum had heard him talking to Tom as she collected the mower from the garden shed which was behind the garage. The second thought was had she seen Tom. He discounted both thoughts as she'd now be having kittens about seeing him, not merrily mowing the lawn, humming a tune. As he relaxed, a third thought hit him like a train; if his mum was outside, what had made the bang in her bedroom. Eric sensed that there must be someone, or worse still, something else in the house. His mind raced with what Tom had just been telling him and wondered if his friend's fears were coming true. He crept carefully across his bedroom to get his plastic BB pistol, which wouldn't do much harm, but might be enough to scare whatever it was.

Eric's mum had never liked him keeping a gun in the house, even one that was so tame. But right at this moment, he knew that this was an exception. In fact, this was an emergency! He checked to see if it was loaded. It was empty. Typical, he thought. Just as he reached for the bucket where he kept the small round plastic pellets, he heard very soft footsteps, as if someone was carefully creeping around his mum's bedroom. Eric thought, as he placed the plastic gun quietly onto the bed, that he was now going to have to resort to using good old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat.

He moved stealthily to his doorway as the other footsteps made their way out of his mum's adjacent bedroom and onto the landing. Even though he was afraid to know what was there, he also knew that it was now or never. He decided to surprise the intruder by leaping on them. Eric took a quiet and very deep breath, and with the adrenalin pumping through him he let out a battle cry as he dived on to the unsuspecting prey. He didn't realize his plan would work so well and Stripes, his well-fed tabby cat, was even more shocked by the unprovoked attack.

Stripes had just jumped in through the open window in Eric's mum's bedroom and was on his way to the kitchen for a mid-morning feast before a well-earned nap in the warming sunshine that was now pouring in through the lounge window, when he was pounced upon by Eric.

His highly evolved feline instincts reacted very quickly, and as he leapt up into the air, fur bristling, tail bushed, he swiped his open clawed front paws across the attackers head before a swift getaway to the sanctuary that was underneath the dining room table.

"So what did the old man say?" Captain Lancaster asked. He was known as Lanky to his colleagues, a nick-name born with a wry smile as he was just below the average height of 1.75 metres. A broad-sounding Yorkshire man, proud of his east coast roots, defending it at all occasions, especially as he was having to work in the age old enemy territory of Lancashire. His extreme, tongue-in-cheek battles, included everything from any football teams from the rival counties, even though he wasn't a great fan of the game, to the ultimate for any person from his side of the Pennines, the Cricket team. The battle of the Roses had continued on the cricket pitch, and every Yorkshire man was always proud to win those matches, at the 20-20 level through to full test matches.

"We can only stay and watch." Ian Jackson replied.

"What?"

"I know, I know." Ian rubbed a hand over his tired face. "I think you heard my side, but well, he doesn't want us to interfere."

"But we've both just seen Eric walk back down his driveway with a live and kicking Tom Barratt in tow. C'mon, that's gotta be something we should investigate more than just sitting here."

"I agree, but the boss is right, I could have blown our cover last time."

"Flamin' 'ell, you saved the lads life." Lanky slapped the door in anger.

Ian sighed. "But I've got a funny feeling that something bad is about to happen."

Lanky looked at him. "How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Get those feelings." Lanky asked. "The ones that have always been right."

"I don't know really," Ian look out of the window up to the sky. "I think I've always been able to do it, I'm just lucky that way."

"That ain't luck mate." Lanky shook his head. "There's the law of averages, where you'd end up being right about 50% of the time," he counted the points off by flicking each finger out from his palm. "Then there's luck, which in most people would give 'em a 60/40 split at the best, I'd think."

"Done a bit of gambling there have you Lanky?"

"I like numbers." He shrugged his shoulders, and then resumed counting. "There's Spidey-senses, the sort of thing superhuman heroes have, which would give them about an 80/20 split, seeing as they get it wrong a few times, and finally" He held his final finger aloft. "At the top of the tree there's Jacko-luck."

"Ha, Jacko-luck, what's that?"

"This is the Ian Jackson factor. The one where you've done at least 5 stints in some very nasty areas around the world, and not been seriously injured,"

"I'd call it being sensible at all times." Ian replied.

"True, but you've got medals for bravery." Lanky raised one eyebrow. "I know because I was there for the last one."

"Ahh, yes, you were."

Lanky told the story once more. "Corporal Hamilton got pinned down, blasted by everything from small hand gun rounds to 30mm stuff. He'd taken a nick to the leg and couldn't move, but had managed to crawl behind a tree, although it was being torn apart by the 30mm. There must have been 4 or 5 dozen of them firing from all over the place."

Ian smiled at the ever exaggerating number of enemy as the story was retold.

"So, you ordered us to open fire, the six of us mind you against about 70 of them. And as soon as we started you belted over those 50 yards, picked the lad up over your shoulder and whipped him back to us." Lanky sighed. "You saved that lads life, albeit in the most stupid fashion."

"I was shot if you remember rightly Captain Lancaster." Ian smiled at his colleague.

"Shot, ha!" He let out a laugh. "I've had worse from a 10 week old kitten."

"Excuse me," Ian tapped the outside of his right arm. "30 centimetres to the left and that might have hit my heart, and kittens can really hurt, those claws are like pins when they crawl up your leg, so yes, I have to agree that a kitten would have done more damage."

Both men chuckled.

"And that's what I'm saying, it's more than luck, it's Jacko-luck."

"So, go on then, what are my averages?"

"I'd give you at least 95/5, and I bet I'd be losing at that." Lanky chukled some more as he sat down next to Ian. "So, what's your Jacko-luck saying?"

"Something bad is going to happen, and happen in the next few minutes."

Alley Cats

After seeing that the intruder was only Stripes, Eric remembered his mum was still out fromt and dashed back down the stairs and opened the door. Emma stopped as she started her second run down the garden, in perfect view of the garage, and Tom's escape route.

"Mum, I'll do that." Eric shouted, as he tried to be overheard over the scream of the lawnmower. "You said you had loads to do, and I've nothing better to do, so I'll help out, if you want." Eric hoped he sounded convincing.

Emma wasn't too sure and looked at him for a second, before finally releasing the mower's trigger. "Thanks sweetie, I think I could do with sorting out that back bedroom wardrobe." She gave him another peck on the cheek, and then skipped over the flowerbed, humming to herself again as she trotted off up the stairs.

Eric waited a couple of seconds, then looked down the drive to the garage, "Tom," whispered Eric, "Tom, where are you?"

"Still in here." Tom opened the door a little and popped his head out. "I heard your mum coming out of the shed with the mower after you'd given me the all clear. So I dove back in." He sheepishly stepped out of the garage and shuffled down the drive towards Eric.

"Right, follow me and keep quiet." Said Eric. "Let's at least get you down the alley and away."

"Okay"

They dashed round the end of the drive, and entered the alley once more. Halfway down they stopped, checking back to see if they'd been spotted.

"Right, where are you going to go?" asked Eric

"Away from here, that's for sure." He smiled at his friend. "I'm not telling you cus if they do turn up, you won't know where I am then, so can't help them find me."

"Good thinking mate." Eric replied, but wished he could know, or better still, go with him. He took the device out of his pocket and clenched it tightly in his hand. "How does this thing work Tom, what does it do?"

"Don't know...you'll have to find out for yourself."

"How did you get away?" Eric looked up at Tom; who was now more worried glancing up and down the alley.

"When they all left the room, I leapt off the table and grabbed that, as I thought if I could get away it would prove that it was some alien technology. But there was a big flash and the next thing I know is that I ended up back here." Tom looked just as shocked as Eric, listening to his own tale for the first time. "I then made a dash across town from the cemetery, and brought it to you." He looked at the device, his mind starting to formulate what it was. "That's it, it's a transporter!" Tom mumbled to himself. He shook the thought away, as he had to focus on the main reason he'd come to Eric. "Look, they're going to find me pretty soon, so I've got to go, and I'm starting to get fed up of your company." He smiled at his weak humour. A serious look shot back across his face as he realised jokes couldn't help him anymore. "You need to show that to someone, so they know about the aliens and maybe they can find out what they're doing here." Tom grabbed hold of Eric's shoulders to make sure he understood the gravity of the situation. "Look, I know you never really trusted him, but you could try that Mr.Jackson bloke from school,"

"Who?" Eric's memory loss was haunting him.

"The bloke who came and found us the night you fell down the stairs....." Tom realised Eric wouldn't remember him. "Just ask around, and you'll find him. Good luck mate".

There was a long silence. Eric put the device back in his pocket, both friends uncertain about their futures, but afraid of losing each other again. Eric pounced on Tom, his arms enveloping his friend in a huge hug. "See ya soon, mate, take care of yourself."

"I will, don't worry, I'm not wanting to die again". Tom's smile was tinged with sadness.

They released each other, but Eric froze.

"What's up?" Tom had seen the look on Eric's face.

"Listen!" Eric put his finger to his lips. "Footsteps.... Hide!" They both dashed across the alley, and into a back garden, ducking down to hide behind a pair of recycling bins.

Three hooded figures emerged at the far end of the alleyway.

"Why are we hiding?" Whispered Tom, who still hadn't heard anything.

"Why do you think?" Eric replied, just as quietly. "Do you want to be seen?"

Tom could see a short distance back along the alley to where they had just been standing through a gap between the bins. He only waited a couple of seconds before he spied something he'd hoped he not see for a long time. Anxiously tugging on Eric's sleeve, tom whispered, "Eric, It's them."

Panic struck both boys at the same time.

"We have to get out of here Tom!"

Found and Lost

The front alien held a small device as it walked slowly down the alley towards them. Approaching the entrance to the garden where Tom & Eric hid, it stopped. The dark, mysterious and hooded figure slowly turned towards them, looking up from the device at the bins, then back at the device again. The boys could now hear a beeping noise coming from the unit, and as the alien approached the gate, the interval between the beeps shortened. Eric and Tom watched silently through the gap between the bins. The alien stepped up to the entrance of the garden where they hid and stopped. The gaps between the beeps got shorter and shorter and as it reached the entrance to the garden, the beeps changed to a continuous tone. It stopped, filling the place where a tall wooden gate had hung until the hinges rusted away. The gate was now propped up to the right, another task for the owner to get round to sometime.

It kept its body completely still as it turned a cloaked head back to its fellow beings. Eric and Tom watched in horror as left arm rose slowly and a long spindly index finger was stretched out, pointing directly towards the bins where they hid.

"It's too late Eric, I'm going to have to give myself up," Tom whispered, hoping that the aliens couldn't hear him. "You can see how easy it must be for them to find me." Tom smiled unconvincingly at his friend, knowing his fate

"No way, mate, I'm not letting them take you away again." Fear, sadness and anger swelled up within Eric.

"Sorry, but it's the only way for me. You on the other hand must stop this." Tom patted Eric on his shoulder, then stood up and walked out past the bins. "It's a fair cop!" He said as he strode down the garden path.

The aliens looked quizzically at him "OK, sorry, I forgot that you're not from round here are you? So I'll use good old fashioned plain human language." He added sarcastically, rolling his eyes round and rocking his head from side to side. "Take me to your Leader" he added in a flat tone, holding his hands up as he walked towards them.

Eric listened from behind the bins. He knew that Tom was putting a brave face on it, using his humour to hide his true feelings of deep foreboding. How could he let this happen to his friend, facing them alone?

"No." Eric stood up, walking over to stand at Tom's side. As rash an action as this was, Eric knew that they wouldn't do anything here.

Not in broad daylight.

Not on Earth.

Eric knew that he had to stall them, they were on his planet, in his town, and he knew someone would see they were in trouble.

"So, we all meet again." The voice came from the second alien. The figure lowered her hood, revealing the axe-like features on a reasonably normal shaped head. "We're all becoming, what you would call friends," She continued walking towards them. "This is happening so often."

The two boys looked at each other, not quite understanding what she meant by that remark.

"And so soon after our last visit to this..." She paused, waggling her spindly fingers around in the air. "This insect infested place." Her voice hardened a little, a look of disgust pulled across her face.

"Ian, we've got movement." Lanky's voice was firm and clear, his eyes clearly focused on the two boys dashing round the end of the driveway and down the adjacent alley.

Ian Jackson lowered the novel he'd been reading, and looked at the set of camera angles views along the bottom of the upgraded bedroom window. He could see the boys dashing down the alley, suddenly stopping and hugging. "Seen it, you get after the boys, I'll wait here a few seconds, until you get down the alley, then I'll get the car round to the other end and pick you up."

"The orders were to watch only, not interact."

"Very true, but he said nothing about you checking your weapon, then going for a breath of fresh air. Maybe you'd like to dashing over to the corner of the alley, do some stretches." A wry smile on Ian's face. "He didn't say you couldn't do that, did he?"

"Right Major." Lanky smiled and shook his head at how Ian could twist the words of his commanding officer around enough to make it all seem quite plausible. His face straightened once more as he pulled his 9mm Glock out of its holster, pressed the button on the side, and let the magazine slip out. He checked that it was fully loaded before smacking the magazine back into place. He checked the safety was still on and slipped the gun back into his hip holster.

"OK?" Ian asked, making sure his Captain had overheard the instructions, and understood what was required. They were straightforward, but the UK military was built on keeping it as simple as possible, because then you'd get less problems.

"OK." Lanky replied, pulling his thin shower-proof coat on to cover his holster. "Ready."

Ian turned to the screens once more and looked puzzled as the boys suddenly darted into a garden. "Go, now!" His command was harsh, a worrying feeling that his hunch was coming true before their eyes.

Seconds later he watched Lanky cross over the road and stop at the corner.

Captain Lancaster crouched and peered down the alley. He could see the back of Eric and Tom, with 3 hooded figures facing them. From this distance Lanky couldn't tell who they were. "Damn!" He cursed under his breath. Were they just 3 youths messing around, or something more sinister? Lanky had to get nearer, and dashed down the inside of the driveway, keeping the timber overlap fence panels between him and everyone in the alley. He got about a third of the way down the driveway, and stopped. The panels had grown in size from one metre at the front of the house to 2 metre high panels as they came alongside the house. He stood up and found a small knot of wood, about the size of a 10p piece, sticking out towards him. He gripped it with the nails of his forefinger and thumb, and gently pulled.

He had to be strong and yet very careful when removing the knot of wood without giving away his position, and he pressed his free hand against the panel to stop it rattling. Lanky got his eye up to the impromptu spy hole and listened for a few seconds.

"You," Tom pointed at Eklan. "are no friend at all." He nudged Eric, "and he's not just a friend, he's my best friend", his chest puffed up to nearly double its size with pride and defiance as he half-stepped in front of Eric. "And if you lay one of those spindly, god cursed fingers on him I swear I'll...."

"Oh stop it with the worthless threats, Tom." Eklan walked over "you're making me quiver within my skin." She shook herself and closed her eyes, mocking his weak yet noble threat. She made a throaty gurgling noise and Eric presumed that she was laughing. "Let's get a little more formal this time, shall we. I'm Eklan." She held her hand to her chest, bowing her head slightly. Eklan then held her hands out to her sides. "And these two are my personal aides, Klarg and Weyin." She glanced sideways at both of them in turn, and they nodded briefly rather than bowed, their eyes never leaving their human prey.

Eric could see they felt uncomfortable at this action, as they both looked more aliens of action, not ones of formal etiquette. "Now, I know you're Tom." Eklan took a couple of steps towards him and stroked a finger over his face. She quivered with excitement, "Ah, still cold," She held her finger to her lips, "So empty, so very nearly Dead." Eklan looked Tom up and down, "it's wonderful how humans change their physical states." She then walked around Eric, "And you must be?" her finger stroking him "oh, so warm, so full of life" she sighed in pleasure "you will be so useful to us, in a few years' time, unless Harrap has actually perfected the....." She stopped herself from saying too much, a wry smile on her face.

"Never" said Eric defiantly, the alien finger stroking his face making him retch.

"Oh, so feisty a human," her eyes flashed with excitement. "It would have been so nice to know you better young...." She left the sentence hanging in the gentle summer morning breeze, waiting for him to reply.

"Eric, his name is Eric," Tom said through gritted teeth. "Not that it makes any difference to you, Alien", he spat the last word out.

She straightened her stance, shaking her head as she faced him. "Oh my dear Tom, but it does. Eric makes all the difference in all the galaxies I know of." She closed the gap between them.

Tom could feel her breath on his cheek as she continued.

"And why do have to spoil our little party with such anger and hatred. Especially as we were getting on so pleasantly, don't you agree Eric?" She turned back to him, enjoying the game.

"No, I don't." He nodded at Tom, adding his own strength and defiance to his friends.

"Ah well, enough of this chitty-chat, let's get down to business." She walked back over to her two accomplices. Klarg reached into his cloak to withdraw a gun, pointing it towards the boys.

Maybe they could do it here, in broad daylight, in front of everyone, Eric's thought hit him like a hammer driving home a nail, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as his blood chilled.

"Now, where is it Tom?" Her friendly façade had gone.

"Where's what?" The anger was still evident in his voice.

"You know what, my dear human, where is the Kylapitar you stole?" Eklan looked straight at Tom; her kind demeanor replaced with a hard stare.

"What's a Kill-a-pee-tar, or whatever it was you just said?" Tom replied calmly, shrugging his shoulders.

Eric took comfort from Tom's cool reply, and kept still. His mind was itching to check if the device was still in his pocket, but also knew that he hadn't to flinch and give the game away.

"Now, I don't like asking twice, but I'm in a good mood today" Eklan's face pulled up at the sides, her skin tightened, as if it was about to tear apart. Eric watched in horror as this happened, realising that it was smile. He had to admit it was one that would scare fully grown adults, never mind kids.

She turned slightly and stroked the gun. "In the wrong hands, completely harmless, but in the right hands, such as Klarg, my personal assassin......" She paused to let the last word drift across the short void between them. "It's extremely deadly." The smile reappeared as she cupped her hand under the barrel, lifting it up, helping Klarg aim. "Now Tom, I'll ask you again, and for the final time. Where is my Kyl-ap-it-ar?" She split the name into syllables to help Tom remember it.

Tom took a step forward, defying her threats, "You don't scare me, that gun doesn't scare me" he pointed at the weapon. "What scares me is losing my mate again. So, you don't have to ask twice, as I'll give you the same answer. I haven't got your Kill-ap-ee-tar, lady" rocking his head from side to side as he spelled the word out, mocking Eklan. He folded his arms across his chest. "As - I - don't - know - what - it - is." He kept up the staccato speaking, anger in every word he spoke.

"You humans might call it a tablet computer." Eklan's face raged with anger more fierce than Tom's.

"Nope, not got one of those either." Tom replied.

"I believe you." Eklan said, a slight smile reappearing as she regained her composure.

"What?" Tom dropped his arms back down to his sides, totally bewildered by her answer.

Eric realized that it was never that simple, he'd seen too many Bond films to know that the bad guy or gal in this case, would never give in so easily. She was up to something, something nasty.

"I'm sorry darling; it looks like you'll be with us sooner than we thought." She turned the barrel slightly, aiming it straight at Eric. "Kill him."

Eric knew he had to run, and he could hear his brain shouting the orders to get out of there, but his feet were glued to the floor with fear.

There was a bang and a flash of bright light. Eric's arm shot across his face, shielding his eyes from the glare.

The blast hit Eric, sending him spinning to the ground.

As his vision cleared from the brightness, Eric looked up and realised he was still in the alley, but couldn't see Tom. He was gone, and he knew that this time his best friend was lost forever.

Eric realised Tom had dived in front of him as the gun had been fired, taking the full force of the blast, sacrificing his life and taking him away from Eric once more.

Rage took over Eric. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?"

"That, I admit, was a little unfortunate." Eklan tilted her head to one side. "You see Tom's escape from us had been a minor problem. What he stole from me was a major problem," her eyebrows raised as she reached each point. "And finally, my third and final problem of the day was you knowing all of this." She smiled again. "Now that the first problem has gone away, I can deal with the other two."

"But you killed Tom, and he was the one who had your.....Kylapitar thing you're looking for."

"Yes, I am looking for what is mine, but I also believed Tom."

"What?"

"He said that he didn't have it. That means he gave it to someone else," her smile was back to its skin ripping strength, "and as he's only been here a short while, I assume he came straight to you. Thus, it's only reasonable to think that the one who does have my Kylapitar is you." She pointed a finger at him, "So if you would kindly hand it over, before Klarg's finger gets twitchy."

"But I haven't got anything," Eric lied, his hand wanting to check that the device was still there. "Tom never gave me this Kylapitar you're talking about".

"I've had enough of you sniveling, lying humans causing me problems." She steepled her fingers, touching them to her chin as she contained her anger. "You see you've become a problem as you've got something of mine, and I would probably guess that Tom has told you why we're here. All I'm now doing is making all the problems go away."

Eric knew what was about to happen.

Eklan gave the order. "Klarg, Now!"

Right Again.

Lanky had heard the first orders being given, and hesitated, hoping that he had heard the conversation wrong, in some way. He knew Tom had been vapourised, and realised he was up against some fearful weaponry, yet he knew he had to protect Eric. He waited for the right moment, which came as Eklan gave to command to Klarg.

He took 4 paces back, took a deep breath. "ARMED FORCES, DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" He screamed then charged at the fence panel.

Ian heard Lanky shout, as he raced out of 57 Steelgate Drive, having set off downstairs the moment Klarg shot Tom. There was a flash of light in the alley as he watched Captain Lancaster crash through the fence panel like it was paper. He cursed under his breath as he was still a few metres away from the corner, which in moments like this would take an eternity to cover.

Lanky braced himself as he crashed through the fence panel, rolling across the ground and bringing his weapon round to fire at the first target. He squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession, hitting the arm and then the chest of the nearest hooded person. The hood flew off and Lanky gulped as he saw the alien features before him.

The second one raised their weapon.

Ian saw the gun being aimed and quickly got two shots off, one hit the wrist and the other the forearm. The alien pirouetted like a ballerina, its arm flailed as a bubble of light engulfed all three aliens.

Lanky, you OK?" Ian asked, rubbing his eyes from the brightness.

"Aye, fine, you?"

"OK, can you see anything?"

"Nope they've gone."

"Flamming Winnie!" Ian muttered angrily under his breath. His eyes adjusted to normal and he could see the alley was clear. ""Coming down." He called out, carefully walking along the left hand set of fence panels.

Lanky got to his feet, his weapon pointing down the alley. He was on the right hand side, his momentum having carried him that far when he breached the fence.

"Good shoulder charge." Ian said, passing the one Lanky had crashed through.

The Captain flexed his right shoulder. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"All the same, you did, good move."

Lanky shrugged his shoulders, "sort of."

"I know. What did you see?" Ian asked as they continued down the alley, checking every point, their military training making the area safe.

"Very little, I heard them get Tom, Eric retaliated, and she gave the kill order. I crashed through the fence, but they'd already done him." He took a deep breath knowing he'd failed. "I hesitated."

"Don't blame yourself, you did everything right." Ian arrived at the garden the boys had hid in, and flashed his gun across all the points. He caught a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye and whipped his weapon across to the kitchen window. He quickly lowered it, withdrawing his ID card. "Armed Police miss. Please go to the front of the house, an officer will be with you shortly." He gave his most warming smile and nodded, watching until she moved away from the window and headed into the lounge. He'd heard of many a soldier being caught out by a rogue attacker in the very same way.

"I've got something here." Lanky called out.

Ian whipped his gun up and set off down the alley once more, constantly checking everywhere as he approached Lanky. "What is it?"

"An arm."

"Oh, goody." Ian added sarcastically, knowing the crime scene would be difficult the keep quiet now. He hit the speed dial on his smartphone, "Sergeant, we have a code 36, I repeat a code 36, tell the Colonel, get a team down here quick, and finally tell the Doc that we've got a present for her." He tapped the screen to end the call with his thumb and turned to Lanky, "anything else?"

"Yep, there's a very nice weapon over here as well." Lanky crouched to inspect the small item. "Cock-up's gonna have fun with this one."

"Right, get your jacket over that, and I'll cover this arm." Ian knew they needed to hide the evidence quickly, as he heard people arriving to nosey at the crime, to the familiar sound of police sirens.

"So," Lanky smiled as he stood up, a smile playfully danced across his lips. "How are you gonna explain to the old man that we were just watching?"

Dead or alive?

Eric heard the bang as he rolled out of the way. He felt the full force of the blast, 10 times more powerful than the one that hit Tom. He rose up, was spun around in the air and dropped onto his stomach. There was a sharp pain in his side, as if something hard was biting him. His mind screamed what his heart wouldn't believe.

He'd been shot.

He was dead.

Eric opened his eyes and saw that he wasn't down the alley anymore, but on a hillside, lying face. He slowly stood up to look around at this new vista. The open meadow ran into the distance on all sides, the waist high grass swaying gently. He unconsciously ran his fingers through the soft tops, and pinched his fingers together to strip the head of a stalk. He flicked the freed seeds into the air and watched as the breeze drifted them along. Eric stopped and shook his head to clear this dream away. When he opened his eyes he saw exactly the same wonderous view. Distant rolling fells surrounded the vast valley, a small copse of trees stood proudly about a kilometre to his right, and a river drew a flat wavy line through it all, lazily meandering its way off into the distance, time never being a concern in this place. He slowly turned round. I could be anywhere, he thought to himself. It could be the Yorkshire Dales, Devon, or the Forest of Bowland.

Questions started to race through his mind as he turned.

Am I dead?

Is this Heaven?

What's just happened?

He started to replay the moments before he arrived. Tom had come back from the dead, the Aliens, the gun, the blast, Tom disappearing again, then being shot himself. His eyes shot wide open with the realisation.

"Oh my god, I have been killed! " He whispered.

The pain bit into his side. "That's strange; I would have thought you'd not feel any pain in heaven." He pondered as he looked around. "Well, it can't be hell." He spoke quietly to himself, even though there wasn't another soul around.

A warm and pleasantly scented breeze drifted across the landscape. He closed his eyes as he wondered if this was truly heaven, as the sensations were superb. Opening his eyes, he enjoyed the vista of bright colourful countryside. The grass seemed greener than at home; the sky was a crystal clear blue, with the most white and fluffy cotton wool clouds floating lazily in the distance adding to this perfect beauty. He scanned the landscape, looking for anything that looked like life just as a bee buzzed into him, landing on his sleeve.

"Hello there." Eric noticed it's black and yellow stripes contrasted so vibrantly against his sky blue shirt, before watching it buzz away on its travels, looking for nectar.

"Good idea Mr.Bee." He followed his shortsighted bumbling friend, hoping it would lead to some form of nectar. In Eric's case, he was looking for any form of civilisation, even a tiny village.

He stopped after a couple of paces and he took the device out of his pocket, the warm metallic finish felt soothing the palm of his hand. It seemed to be unharmed apart from one small dent in the top corner of the lid. "That wasn't there before." He opened it; everything looked ok inside. "This thing must be rhino skinned," he sounded surprised. It all looked in working order as the symbols changed. He slipped it back into his pocket, and set off after the bee again.

The walk was tiring but Eric kept going as he was looking forward to finding someone else and hopefully getting some answers to the questions that were burning away in his mind. In fact anyone else, he thought, as he'd walked for a while and not seen another soul at all. There had to be someone, he'd seen the bee, he could hear birds in the distance, so, there should be people somewhere

After 9 long hours of strolling across meadows, over fells, through streams and a peaceful forest that gave him respite from the sun, he was getting very hungry and tired. It was as he neared his limit, and started to wonder if he was alone in Heaven when he spotted something on the horizon. They were mere dots at first, but as he continued walking, they grew slowly into tiny houses. Elation burst through his whole body as he realised that it was a little hamlet. A little closer and he could clearly see smoke rising from the chimneys, there were people living there. It still seemed a long way off, yet Eric managed to speed up, the joy of seeing life spurring him on. Behind him, the sun starting to set, but the idea of meeting other people, even if they were as dead as he was, seemed quite a nice idea after everything that had occurred in the last 24 hours.

As he neared the village, the lights started to dance in the houses. Eric enjoyed this flickering light show as people moved from room to room. He got within a hundred metres of the nearest ones and realised that they were carrying candles, strengthening Eric's belief of how beautiful heaven was. It wasn't just the fantastic colours, smells, and sounds that he'd encountered all day, but the fact that although everyone was dead, it was a place that was enjoying a simple and full life.

Life after death, it was true.

"I presume Tom had a good time here, before they brought him back to life." Eric struggled for breath as he half-ran, half staggered towards the hamlet. The singular drive of seeing other faces kept him going through all the pain, dehydration and exhaustion his body felt.

A small track led him to the first buildings just as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the distant rolling hills. Eric stumbled up the last rise, stopping for breath as he looked at the heavenly sight before him; a picture-postcard village with a backdrop of soft fells. He saw a pub in the centre, reminding Eric of the Green Man in Inglewhite, its real fire warming the chills of many a snowbound winter away after a walk and a slide in the snow on Beacon Fell.

Wholesome, homely aromas drifted from the first house, setting the juices flowing in his mouth as his mind drifted back to times when they'd eaten in the pub, enjoying wonderous and varied meals, trying new tastes, sampling a sip of dad's real ale, and a slurp of mum's wine. What he would do for some of that food now. What he would do to see his dad again. He laughed out loud as he strolled between the houses, maybe I will, he thought; we're both dead, so we're both here in heaven.

The houses looked solid, safe, and full of good honest people. His last few drops of energy and adrenalin drained, the pain in his side rushed back with full force. His legs gave way, not able to hold him upright, their energy spent after running up the final hill. He fell onto his knees; a tear ran down his face, as he stopped seeing the good side to his new life. The exhaustion, both mentally and physically, started to shut him down and he collapsed, face first onto the dirt road.

He could go no further, and shut his eyes, peaceful at last.

Missed Opportunity.

"Aaarrrgghhhhh!" Eklan screamed angrily as she marched in circles around the hangar. "Complete idiots." She shouted at her two aides, their heads lowered. "You lose a weapon and you lose an arm, and nearly your life." She pointed her gun at each of them in turn, neither flinched. "How could you, it was such a simple task, just go there, grab the humans, get my device and get out of there quickly." She marched around some more, banging her hands against her skull in anger. "It's not like we've not been there before, 2 years ago to be exact, getting Simon Peterson, yet here we are having failed."

Her pocket buzzed.

"Excellent, probably more bad news." She took her communicator out and saw her lead scientist Harrap's name. "What!" She snapped.

"He's back." Harrap grinned, pleased that Tom had returned.

"I know. I sent him to you." She didn't smile, and snapped the communicator off before he could waste more of her time.

He pocket buzzed again, and she snapped it open. "What now!" She asked angrily.

"Tut, tut. Is that the way to talk to your leader," K'nash's holographic face glared at her. "I've killed more important people than you for less." He held her gaze for a second before his face softened. "So how did your expedition to Earth go?"

"Ah, yes." Eklan glanced at her two aides. "We got the human back."

"Excellent. The right one this time?" K'nash smiled.

"Erm, no, the one we lost."

"So he'd gone to earth?"

"Yes, it seems he'd managed to find a way back there."

"And how did a 14 year old human child achieve such an act, considering how weak they are compared to us?"

Eklan sighed, knowing the truth was required. "I'd placed my Kylapitar with Harrap for a service and upgrade."

"Ah good old Harrap, is he in charge now?" K'nash interrupted.

"Erm, yes." She replied.

"My, my, we are getting through our lead scientists aren't we?"

Eklan huffed at the snide comment that her anger was destroying her ability to perform effectively.

"They are allowed to make the odd mistake before you kill them." K'nash laughed, his head rolling back. "I let mine make 4 or even 5 before I push them into the garbage disposal unit, or an airlock. It helps them focus on the task in hand, and I have heard that making mistakes is part of the process, as it means they're nearer to finding the right answer." He laughed some more, "Yet I don't give them too much slack to use that excuse as a way to mask their incompetence."

"Yes, Sire."

"So the human is back on board?"

"Yes, we got him back here, as I said." Eklan wondered why she had to repeat herself.

"And your Kylapitar?" K'nash's holographic head rolled to one side as he looked Eklan in the face. "Where is that?"

Mr.Poonk

The next morning, Eric awoke to the sound of laughter. He lay on a tatty, lumpy, moth-eaten bed, covered with an old, hand-made patchwork duvet. Horse-hair and straw padding stuck out in rough clumps through the many tears. He breathed out and the mist drifted up in the very cold air. Eric viewed the rustic quilt with fresh eyes, as on this very cool morning, he was glad that it was thick and more importantly warm.

He sat up looking around at the simply furnished room. A hand-made wooden stool was propped drunkenly against the far wall and a plain rug lay in the centre, barely covering a tenth of the floor, the boards polished from countless people walking over them. The bed was also simple, solid and functional; crafted carefully from wind-blown branches to create a solid place to rest a tired head.

A small window to his right overlooked the hills he'd seen the previous night. The morning sun shone a beam of golden light across the small room, its crisp edge slowly arcing across the floor towards his feet. He dreamily watched the dust particles dance for joy in the sun's warming rays. It illuminated a glass of water that stood alone upon the stool, a prism of colours burst from the liquid, highlighting its clarity.

Eric rushed over and gulped down the sweet tasting liquid, some spilt over his chin, dribbling down and dropping onto the wooden floor. He stared into the glass, realising that even though he'd walked miles the day before, across clear flowing streams, he'd been so pre-occupied with his quest for civilization, that he'd forgot the basic survival skills his father had taught him of water, food, and shelter. He smiled, thinking someone was watching over him, and he hoped it was his dad.

Who's done that? Eric spotted his clothes at the end of the bed, neatly folded. He dressed, careful to not bash the bruise on his side he'd received trying to escape from the Aliens. After checking that the device was still in his pocket, Eric opened the door quietly and stepped onto a long hallway. The house was silent apart from the creak as the sun warmed the oak beams supporting the thatched roof. He glanced through open doorways, checking every room as he passed. There was a kitchen, bathroom, another bedroom, and finally, a lounge. Eric was puzzled. As far as he could see, he was alone.

He heard the laughter again and realised it was outside. The door at the end of the hallway was partially open and he stopped before going through. He'd been so busy wanting to meet people that as he grabbed the door handle, he was hit by a thought, "Don't talk to strangers". He could even hear his mum's voice saying those words in his head. But they wouldn't put me up for the night; he countermanded his mum's advice. He pulled the door open, and stepped out in the glorious morning sunshine.

Across the track he'd collapsed upon the evening before was an old man cutting the grass with a scythe. He didn't swing the blade as far as he had in his youth, but he still smiled as he worked.

Why didn't he cut the grass with a lawnmower? Doesn't heaven have any technology? Is there no electricity? Eric half-answered the questions as he remembered the candlelit houses.

"Excuse me," Eric walked over. "Are you the gentleman who owns this house" pointing to the building he'd just left.

The old man turned around, wondering who was talking to him. "Oh!" He exclaimed, jumping slightly as he drew his hand up to his chest. Eric saw that his initial shock swiftly changed to one of happiness. "Oh, hello young master....?"

"Eric," he completed the question, amused at being called a 'young master.'

"Young master Eric eh, now there be a nice name" He then rolled the name round his mouth slowly as if he was eating his favourite meal "Eric." This was all said in a thick west-country accent, as he leant on his scythe.

"I'm sorry for surprising you," Eric said, holding his hand out, "but if it was you who took me in, then I'd like to thank you."

"Aye, it would be me that did that, Master Eric." He shook his hand. "The name's Poonk."

Eric smiled at the strange name, but saw kind eyes, gently swimming amidst a shoreline of life-learnt wrinkles, and he could tell that he was a good man.

"Yes, Mr.Poonk, that be I." He stepped on to the track, oblivious to Eric staring. "Anyway, me and my mate Mr.Flyne, the local carpenter, well, we'd been down the pub, having a couple of Geroan's finest ales." He elongated the word finest, and closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, as if he was knocking back a full pint in his mind. He then leant forward, placing a hand on Eric's shoulder, "I don't think you'd be able to stand more than a couple of them master, being only a strap of a lad. Anyway, as I were sayin' before I went off on one," He focused upon a spot on the road. "When we'd finally decided it was late enough had to go home, we came back down the lane and found you 'ere," pointing to the same spot.

Eric expected to see himself still lying there unconscious.

"Well, you just looked like you were sleeping." He smiled at Eric as he continued, "So I said to Mr.Flyne that we'd better get you inside, as it was turning a bit chilly, and someone with such fine clothes must be drunk or ill or sommat." He waved a hand at Eric's clothes. "Well, we carried you into the house and flopped you into the spare room." He paused for a short breath, "I hope the room was comfortable enough for you, Master?"

Eric's train of thought was broken by his title being said once more, "Yes, thank you, it was very comfortable."

"Oh, it was nothing, sire, out the goodness of me 'art, I did."

"Thank you again, but if you could please direct me to, well, actually," Eric thought about his next words, a puzzled look sweeping over his face. "I don't know where I am really, or where I want to go." It dawned on Eric that he had just walked the day before, hadn't a clue where he was, or where he was heading.

"Well, aren't ye staying for breakfast, then sire?"

"I wouldn't like to burden myself on you anymore." Eric held his hands up in protest to Mr.Poonk's request.

"T'is no burden at all. To be 'onest, I likes a bit of company now and then, and it'd be a pleasure to share a bit o' bread an' jam with you. I must apologise tho', t'is only simple fayre", and he bowed in an embarrassingly subservient way. Eric felt that he couldn't refuse, mainly because this man had helped him so much already, and he didn't want to offend him. "I'd like that very much", replied Eric, beaming. He was very hungry, and knew he could do with something before he headed off to wherever he was going.

Mr.Poonk hadn't over-exaggerated his explanation of breakfast. It really was simple fayre, but all home-made. They chatted about Eric's last couple of days, although he left out some of the stranger moments, as he didn't quite believe them himself yet. He watched Mr.Poonk potter about his kitchen whilst sat on a sturdy chair at a solid dining table. Made from a fallen tree, it had been skillfully planed it to a perfectly smooth finish, before being varnished in some warming honey-coloured liquid that, as Eric leant over it, could almost be used as a mirror.

A large crusty cob of a loaf was plonked before Eric, it's shell splintering and shattering into tasty crumbs as it was sliced into thick doorstops. The inside was soft and fluffy, almost like candy floss, and it melted in Eric mouth. The jam wasn't over processed and was all the better for it. Eric looked at the 3D relief map it left on his bread as mountainous full strawberries dropped down into the valleys flowing with rivers of sweet sugary red jam. This was all washed down with a cup of thick, freshly drawn and very creamy milk.

"Would you likes some more, Master Eric?" Mr.Poonk enquired.

"No thanks," Eric rubbed his full, satisfied stomach. "I wonder if you could help me, I'm looking for someone."

"Certainly sire, do I know this person?" Mr.Poonk leant forward, his brow furrowed slightly.

"I wouldn't have thought so, his name's Tom, Tom Barratt, and he was" Eric's head dropped as he remembered what had happened. "He is my friend."

"You alright, Master Eric, you were suddenly looking very sad." A concerned expression drew over Mr.Poonk's face.

"Oh it's nothing," Eric shook his head, then noticing that Mr.Poonk was watching him closely, swiftly produced a weak smile, "you wouldn't know him anyway, Mr.Poonk, I'm sorry for asking. Actually, if you don't mind, I think I'll go. Thank you once more for everything."

"Go where sire? I know you're not from round here, and I also know you look like you wouldn't know where you were going if the sign was right in front of your very own eyes." His eyebrows raised, waiting for Eric's admission to this accusation.

"You're probably right." Eric agreed, sniggering slightly.

"The only place I can think of where you might find help is the city of Killnjar, 'cus that's where most people passing through these parts seem to be heading. So, maybe you could start there." He smiled at Eric, hoping that this would help.

Eric had so many questions, and this was such a beautiful place. He wondered for a second if he could be happy just cutting the grass with Mr.Poonk. "You're right, which way is it?"

Mr.Poonk drew a map, describing the journey as he scribbled, pointing out the major sights along the way, from desolate castles through Druades forest, to the city. He'd been to the city, but didn't enjoy the closeness of the buildings; there was no grass, no fresh air, and no life. He enjoyed the journey, as it was a delight to see some of the beautiful sights around the land.

Eric thanked Mr.Poonk one final time for all his help, before setting off with high hopes of finding Tom. A simple backpack had been created from a towel, laden with a couple of roughly hewn, jam sandwiches and a flask of fresh milk. At the top of the lane, he turned around to wave at Mr.Poonk, taking a moment for one last look at his temporary home as it sat warming itself in the morning sun. Long shadows retreated to the safety of the eaves as the sun took its daily traverse across the heavens.

Not Really Active.

"It's a gun." Sergeant Cockburn explained to his Major.

"Excellent stuff Sherlock, I'm glad I gave you the time to investigate this." Ian teased, knowing how the Sergeant could make a mountain out of a molehill.

"But, not the kind you think it is." He held a finger aloft.

"Now that's the interesting stuff I do need to know about."

Sergeant Cockburn, known playfully as "Cock-up" to his colleagues due to minor errors and mistakes made during experiments and tests, was also the most intelligent person in the Camp. His mannerisms placed him along the Autism scale, being in the top third, and as such life was a constant struggle to control all elements in his life. A simple question could lead to strange consequences, as he would take someone's words literally, the best example of which was before a visit by the Head of MI9, Cock-up was asked by Colonel Kelsall to mix the paints. This led to the base being painted from ceiling to floor in a slightly purple shade of grey, as Cock-up had literally mixed all the paints together.

Initially brought into the team to build complex databases to help control the information being gathered from the forays into the universe, his programming became the single point of use as he'd developed it into a true 3D mapping system. That was borne from him trying to understand the sequence of symbols on the front of the Kylapitar that he'd personally found on a routine investigation in the Antarctic 4 years earlier. The 3D stellar map's real-time engine could help track a place in time and space, give dates and co-ordinates. From there, he'd tested the Kylapitar, whereby he beamed himself a 500 metres west into the centre of the M6 southbound carriageway – a typical "Cock-up". Thankfully it was 3am, and only the odd articulated lorry was trundling past, so no one got hurt.

"OK," Sergeant Cockburn started, taking a deep breath as if he was about to dive underwater. He waggled a pencil in his fingers, his preferred writing implement, not because the level of science he dealt with always needed to be corrected and managed, but because his father was a time-served cabinet maker. Wood had always been his life, and all of Cockburn's formative years had memories of his dad with a pencil behind his ear, or scribbling calculations or dimensions. He'd enjoyed taking on that simple part of his father's life.

Cock-up pointed the sharp end at the gun. "Like I said, it's a gun, but not a normal one."

"Yes and..." Ian was excited and impatient to learn more.

"It has the usual grip, trigger, muzzle, safety switch."

"Yes, I get the idea, it's very similar, but..."

"Ooooh!" The sergeant rolled the word musically up and down. "Don't get your knickers in a twist there young-fellow-mi-lad." He said in a broad Preston accent.

Ian eyed him impatiently.

"Right." Cock-up beamed. He slipped the pencil through the finger guard, letting it roll over. "And here we have something that isn't on any of our hand weapons."

Ian dug in his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses, slipping them on as he got nearer to the grip.

"Arms not long enough Sir?"

"Yes, and these are a magical way of helping to shorten them again." Ian replied sarcastically, with a hint of a smile.

"And what does Sir see?" Cock-up offered.

"Ooooh!" Ian mimicked the Sergeant as he leant forward. "That's very interesting isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Why would a gun have a connector port?" Ian asked.

"If you're really evil, you might log who you've shot, along with the time and place."

"It might also take pictures?" Ian proposed another idea.

"That could be a little awkward if you pressed the wrong button and shot someone accidentally." Cock-up countered.

"Mmmmm, I agree." Ian thought for a second. "It must be data collection."

"That's what I thought, and I wondered if it had any residual memory."

"So," Ian sat back. "It's a bit like when is a bus not a bus?"

Cock-up thought for a second. "I don't know when is a bus not a bus?"

"When it turns into a street."

Both men let out a childish snort of laughter.

"In this case, I came to the same conclusion." Cock-up added. "When is a gun, not a gun?"

"And the answer is?"

"Over here." Cock-up waggled a finger to get the Major to follow him to his computer terminal on the far side of the small room.

Ian looked at the very busy screen, full of numbers and codes, constantly scrolling. He'd seen that on in the background when he came in, and thought it was a program Cock-up had left running through its calculations, to help manage his time more efficiently.

"This is what was on the guns memory."

"All of that?" Ian asked, incredulous at all the data.

"Yes, there are billions of pieces of code in here."

"I bet that would take a few mega-bytes of storage capacity." Ian whistled.

"Quite a few terra-bytes would be my best guess, although I'm still trying to calculate it."

"Ok, and what does this gibberish tell us?"

"That we're not alone, dah-dah-dahhhhh!" Cockburn added notes of dramatic music to his paraphrased line.

Ian eyed him once more.

"Ok, this is the English version of the gibberish."

"Right, what did it look like before?"

Cockburn hit a short sequence of keystrokes. "Like this."

The scrolling numbers and letters changed to symbols and scribbles, like a mixed Arabic and Chinese version.

"Wow, and you managed to translate it to English."

"Yes, a few key phrases and letters, the odd number, and voila," he typed the return sequence of keystrokes. "We have this."

Ian knew it wouldn't have been anywhere as easy as Cock-up was making out. He read the information on the screen, and even though it was now in English, it was still a jumble of numbers, letters, and squiggles to him. He did know that Cock-up was arguably the best person on the planet to help. "And what does any of that mean?" He waggled his finger at the screen and waited for Cockburn's next revelation.

"To be brutally honest, I haven't got a piggin' clue."

Ian smiled.

Ashton Debrun

The early morning breeze was cool and pleasant upon Eric's back as he walked over hills, and across the lush green meadows. He quickly understood what Mr.Poonk had meant by the sights to be seen.

Eric passed by the old Tolemac Castle, perched high on a hill, where Gnik Ruthra lost everything in a battle with a fearsome beast. Legend had it that anyone going in there would lose their mind. Eric decided not to go and look, as his quest to find Tom was more important.

He dug the rudimentary, yet perfectly clear map from his pocket, unfolding it carefully as he approached the great Dryades forest Mr.Poonk had also mentioned. Many had heard whispered voices in there, but Mr.Poonk didn't believe the stories of what lived there, so didn't elaborate anymore. This worried Eric initially, but as it seemed no stranger than Aliens bringing your dead friend back to life, he simply nodded and smiled at Mr.Poonk in a very understanding way.

Standing before the wall of trees that reached up to the clouds, Eric took a deep breath to stiffen his resolve, and then strode on defiantly. The bright midday sun was banished instantly as he plunged into darkness, engulfed by the dense foliage.

2 hours in and Eric approached a fork in the path. A memory floated up of a similar path whilst on a walk with his mum near Broadford on the Isle of Skye. They chose the wrong one that day and after a few miles it ended. The path before him looked similar, and he had a premonition that the same thing was about to happen. He looked carefully at Mr.Poonk's meticulous artwork, and as detailed and colourful as it was, it was not an Ordnance survey map. He turned the drawing round different ways to see which way he'd come, and which way he needed to go. He tried many configurations until he was holding it upside down, and had his head bent over to look at the map through the arch his left arm had made. It was still no use.

Behind him, a brisk rustling of leaves startled him, and he spun round to see where the noise came from expecting an animal to come charging out of the bushes. He narrowed his eyes and leant forward to focus on where he thought the attack would come. A light wind whipped past, tugging the map from his grip, helping it glide up and away. It flew 20 metres ahead, landing in a murky puddle, smearing the ink.

''Nice one, Eric'' Sighing as he picked up the now soaked Picasso-like parchment. ''What a great time to start experimenting with impressionist art.'' He scrunched it into a ball, tossing it into the air. As it fell he swung his right leg, volleying it between two trees.

Eric's arms shot up as he cheered his goal ''yeahhhhhhh." Trotting around, accepting the adulation of the rooted crowd, he added a fake commentator's voice "and Peterson hits a scintillating volley into the open Brazil goal, the England fans go wild," before finally sliding on his knees.

"I wonder if they have football in heaven." Eric pondered as he picked himself up, dusted down his knees and returned to the dilemma of the two paths.

"The map's useless now. So which path do I take? Which is right, which is wrong?" He scratched his chin, willing the soft, white hairs would start to darken and thicken. "OK then, Right is Right, and Left is Wrong, there's no other choices, and if it looks like trouble ahead, I can always back-track and take the other path, I'm here for eternity".

He took a deep breath and set off towards the right hand fork.

"Right is right."

Eric stopped as the whisper drifted around him. He wondered if he had actually heard it,

"Left is wrong."

I definitely heard that, he thought to himself. Eric remembered Mr.Poonk saying about the voices in the woods. His heart raced, as adrenalin pumped around his body. He balled his hands into fists, ready to defend him, although his first thought was to run.

''You can't just dispose of your rubbish anywhere you wish'' said a disembodied voice behind him. Eric whipped round, but there was no one. His fists shot up as he assumed the usual boxers stance.

''Who said that'' Eric called out, his head flicking back and forth. Maybe they're hiding, he thought to himself. He dashed to the nearest tree and poked his head round the side.

There was nothing there.

"Excuse me young man, but are you afflicted with some sort of insanity, which would explain this seemingly irrational behavior," the disembodied voice spoke once more.

Eric was ready, knowing he'd heard the voice behind him, and he spun round and saw no one there again. He folded his arms defiantly, and spoke to the seemingly empty forest ''OK, I give in. I don't know who you are, and come to that, even where you are, because you keep disappearing. I'm not even bothered what you are, and you definitely don't scare me'' His eyes said otherwise as they scanned the area, back and forth, searching for the slightest clue of movement, ready to fight or flee, whichever option seemed best. ''So, I'm going to say farewell, and take the right hand path'' He unfolded his arms, and strode away.

As his foot lifted off the ground, he heard a slight rustle of leaves ahead and also slightly above him. He reached up, grabbed the branch above his head, swung his legs up and pulled it down with all his weight, before letting it spring back up.

He waited for whoever it was to come crashing to the ground.

Eric could hear the voice screaming, but the sound was rising up through the tree. Higher and higher it went, but curiously, more cries and screams were added as it went. Eric heard at least 10 different people, all being bumped and bounced about the tree, but he could see no-one for all the branches and leaves. As the commotion settled down, a small well-dressed man, about 25cm tall, with two pairs of wings sprouting out of his back flew down onto the branch before him.

Eric was surprised and transfixed by the sight, watching in awe as the little man folded his wings before performing a small and slow bow, keeping his eyes on Eric, warily.

''Hello'' Eric greeted the fellow.

The small man lifted himself upright, cleared his throat, and in a very clear, distinguished voice said ''Allow me to introduce myself, for I am Ashton Debrun, Wood-squire of this forest and leader of the Hawcon."

"The Hawcon?" enquired Eric, a puzzled look on his face.

"My first thought was definitely true." Ashton said quietly to himself.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that." Eric replied.

"I apologise, as you must be new to this land. We are the Hawcon." He extended his arms out.

Eric looked at the branches around and saw other small bird people, and realised that they were the Hawcon.

"And who might you be, young sir, and what business do you have in this land.'' Even with his small stature, Ashton's commanding presence, Eric felt obliged to answer.

"I'm Eric Peterson, and I apologise for my behaviour, as everything here is strange.'' Suddenly realising his choice of words, he quickly added "I didn't mean you're strange."

Ashton tilted his head, furrowing his brow as he wondered who this young rapscallion was before him.

Eric saw a similar look on all the Hawcon faces, and not knowing how many others there were, wished he'd followed his first instinct of scampering away ''Look, let me start again'' Eric carefully thought about each word before it left his lips. ''I was at home yesterday when my...'' He stopped and looked at Ashton. How much can I tell him? Would they think me insane if he mentioned about Tom and the aliens? He thought to himself, better to give the minimum information, and decide on whom to trust later.

''Continue'', added Ashton, impatiently.

''Sorry'' Eric scratched his head as he thought of which bits to leave out. ''Yes, so, I woke up here yesterday. At first I thought it was dead nice here'' he snorted a little laugh at his unfortunate joke. Maybe you do get this sort of humour when you're dead, he thought to himself.

''Is something amusing?''

Eric regained his composure on hearing Ashton's stern tone. ''No, sorry Sir, but as I was saying, I arrived here yesterday, stayed in Mr.Poonk's house last night. Well, he and his friend dragged me into his house." That doesn't sound good, child services would have a field day, he thought. "Well, I'd actually passed out through exhaustion, and they helped me, that was what I meant to say. He let me sleep there." Eric looked at Ashton, who watched him closely, saying nothing. "I told him I was looking for my friend, and he said there were very few people out in the countryside, so I'd be better going into the city to find him." And he pointed to the junction again, in the vain hope a sign might appear with the directions, 'To the City'. He waited a second,. Nothing happened. "So, Mr.Poonk made me a map, which brought me through here, and well, here I am, in the middle of my journey.''

''A strange tale, if ever I've heard one." Ashton looked curiously at Eric. "Alas, it is evident that you are here, and having dumped your litter and caused a commotion, you've apparently lost your sense of direction....''

''Yes, sorry about the rubbish'' as Eric picked up the crumpled map. ''And as for the commotion, I'm sorry I didn't know you were there. I was merely defending myself."

''Please don't interrupt, young man." Ashton held a tiny hand up to halt Eric's ramblings. "Anyway, an admirable job you made of defending yourself,'' replied Ashton, as he dusted a rogue leaf off his wings. ''So, is that all of your tale?'' he tilted his head slightly.

Eric had the uneasy feeling that Ashton sensed more in him, but daren't tell him everything knowing he wouldn't believe him as he already thought his story was strange. He decided to bluff his way through. ''That's it, basically, as I don't want to bore you with too many details.'' Eric glanced at Ashton, whose eyes had become huge his mouth wide open.

Oh no, thought Eric, he knows I'm lying, that's a look of complete shock if ever I saw it.

Ashton stumbled backwards along the branch, his wings flapping.

Eric knew he'd missed the odd detail and maybe a bit more embellishment and sparkle on the slightly greyer parts, but he thought Ashton was over-dramatizing his act.

At that moment, Eric felt a gust of wind blow over his head, making him stumble forwards, and in a flash, Ashton was gone. Eric watched as leaves and small pieces of bark fell to the floor from where Ashton had stood. Looking around, he heard noises from above.

A huge bird of prey had spied Ashton from high above the canopy, and dove down through the trees, captured him and was now trying to fly back up to the clear skies above.

Eric saw the dense foliage and size of the bird hindered an easy escape. He watched Ashton struggling to release himself from the suffocating grip of the bird's talons. The 3 metre wide golden-brown wings of the hunter arced back and forth, as the bird climbed, its head searching for an escape route through the maze of interwoven branches. At the top of one turn, the right wing clipped a branch, forcing the beast to turn slightly, losing its sense of direction. Its hazel eyes hunted for a clear path, the powerful wings beating slowly as it hovered, but it forgot about why it had entered the woods and loosened the grip around its prey a fraction.

Ashton gasped for breath, crushed by the strength of his captor. He knew he was losing the battle to be free of the bird. Suddenly, he felt the talons slacken, and instantly expanded his chest to take a small breath of the clear woodland air. Knowing this was his only chance, he pushed with all his might.

It worked. Ashton was free, and quickly darted down, heading for the safety of a closely-knit network of small branches. His wings buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. As much as he'd been gasping for breath seconds before, he now concentrated all his thoughts and actions on the task of reaching a sanctuary.

The great bird spied its lunch trying to flee. A swift turn of the body, it folded everything back, creating a sleek form that cut through the air with grace and speed. Its mass and athletic form evolved over millennia to make it a lot faster than its prey. The huge beast swooped, and as it neared its prey the wings opened, slowing its descent. It finally lowered its razor sharp talons ready for the pick

Found Out

"HARRAP!" Eklan screamed as marched through the doors to the laboratory.

"Yes Eklan." The scientist replied, a defeated edge to his voice. He'd waited for this moment since finding Tom and her Kylapitar missing. She'd killed his second in command, Crough, but he knew she would still be angry. She was always angry.

Eklan glanced at the securely strapped Tom on the central table. "Excellent, you're learning from your mistakes." She ran a finger along Tom's cheek, digging a nail in, making it bleed. The red liquid built into a small blob until its overbearing mass forced it to run down towards his ear. She smeared the vertical dribble into a cross, before licking it off her finger. "Sweet and sticky, I always love how they taste."

All the scientists cringed, from disgust and fear of the countless diseases Humans carried in their blood.

"Eklan, how may I help you?" Harrap was never amazed at her acts of depravity.

"Start by cleaning that wound." She smiled and pointed to the cut she'd made. "And then find out where Eric Peterson went."

"What?" Harrap was confused.

Eklan sighed. "Weyin shot at Eric, but as he's not here." She waved her arms around the room. "I presume he used my Kylapitar and is elsewhere."

Harrap nodded slowly, trying to understand the implications of what Eklan was saying.

"You look like a nodding pet." She took in a deep calming breath. "I'll – say – it – slowly – so – that – you – can – understand." Enunciating each word. "E-ric – Pee-ter-son – has – dis-a-ppeared – and - I – think – he – used – my – kee-lap-ee-tar." She made sure each syllable was pronounced phonetically. "Enough of this." She stood towering over the small scientist, her nostrils flaring. Her dark purple and black make-up only accentuated the angry look on her face.

Harrap cringed, bracing himself for the onslaught he knew was coming.

"Find out where that boy has gone, and do so quickly, or else...." She let the words hang in the air as her eyes tried to bore a hole through his skull and boil his brain; the anger she'd kept within finally making its way to the surface where the pressure would not be contained.

She turned and made her way to the door. It slid open and Kram, a junior scientist, entered. He respected all, worked hard, and was so innocent that he smiled and bowed before his Commander.

Several scientists gasped.

Kram had endured many bullies during his short life, yet he had never been punched so hard.

The unsuspecting scientist flew in a perfect parabolic arc across the corridor before crashing into the far wall; a stomach-churning crunch was heard as his skull split. He lost consciousness, slumping over like a discarded rag-doll.

The scientists were rooted to the spot, experience telling them not to move, or forsake the wrath of their commander. The door closed behind Eklan as she left, hiding Kram's broken body away from their view.

"I'm so very sorry." Harrap's head dropped, as tears flowed.

A caring hand was placed on his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself; it's her, not you."

"Thank you, but every one of my failures places all of you in danger." A concerned look at Dor, his friend and colleague who shared his pain, tears running down her face.

"Let's go and help him shall we?" Dor asked, placing her hand under Harrap's chin, lifting it a little. She stroked a tear away from his cheek, "He'll be OK. He's a tough kid."

Hero

Eric's relief at seeing Ashton free himself was quickly wiped out as the huge bird spotted its prey, instantly diving towards it. He scoured the ground for some sort of weapon. Picking up a large stone, Eric could feel its cold, solid weight in his hand as he repositioned himself under the branches of the great oak. Unfortunately, as Eric looked up, the angle of attack meant the bird was diving straight at him, putting Ashton directly in his line of fire. Eric, as captain of the school Dodge-ball team, modestly held the counties Under 15's number one spot for direct hits, but he knew that this was still a very risky shot to take.

Then, as if his fears had been heard, his luck changed. A sly grin appeared on his face as he saw that the bird was attacking too fast to grab Ashton in its claws. Knowing what the beast would do, Eric drew his arm back as the birds wings opened up to slow its rapid descent. Eric fired the stone towards the bird's left wing. Horror gripped him as he saw Ashton's small body being surrounded by the bird's claw.

Ashton was a metre away from safety when he sensed the claw reach to grab him. Having anticipated an attack, Ashton arched his back, forcing his body to turn up and away from the bird's rapidly descending grip.

''YES!" Eric punched the air as Ashton darted up and away from the claws.

Ashton whipped to his right; directly into the path of the stone.

''Oh no, ASHTON, WATCH OUT!'' shouted Eric.

Ashton sensed another object was hurtling towards him from the ground and whipped to his left, as the rock thundered into the middle of the bird's chest. It was thrown backwards, smashing it into a tree. Its wings whipped forward, swiping Ashton into a thick branch. Ashton and his attacker fell to the ground, both unconscious.

''Yeahhhhhhh!'' cried Eric as he danced, waving his arms in the air. He looked up through the branches and at first couldn't see Ashton, whom he assumed, was perched safely on a branch. A movement caught his eye, and he saw the bird, unconscious and falling to the ground. Fear gripped him as he also spotted Ashton heading for the same fate. Eric raced round the tree, and dived into the air. He caught Ashton, cupping the small lifeless frame to his chest before twisting his body, dodging the falling hulk of the bird, and crashed hard into the ground on his back.

Eric didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but knew he'd hit the ground hard. His head throbbed in time with whoever was using a sledgehammer in there. As other senses re-booted, he noticed a buzzing noise mingled with a series of whispers.

He opened his eyes. ''Aaarrrgghhhhh!'' screamed Eric, surrounded by a group of Hawcon, who scattered in a flurry of wings.

Eric scurried backwards, and rammed straight into the trunk of solid oak tree. His head whacked. "Ow", he yelped, and his hands covered the tender and rapidly increasing lump on the rear of his head.

The Hawcon had regrouped and followed him at a somewhat safer distance as he raced backward.

''What the Devil is wrong with you now?" A familiar voice spoke. "You are a strange young man."

''What?" Eric continued rubbing at what now felt like a mountainous lump, and looked at the crowd of Hawcon hovering in a semi-circle around him. His initial shock faded as he looked at each face. The first was saw an old wrinkly face, with wispy white hair, but her eyes were full of life's wisdom. Next was a young lady, probably only about Eric's age, with a very pretty face. She had beautiful jade green eyes, a cute little nose, and he suddenly saw that she had very kissable lips; this made him smile. Eric blushed, as he'd failed to hide his feelings for this young lady. She simply smiled back at him and said "Hi."

Eric blushed even more and quickly resumed looking at the remaining Hawcon, scanning past each one. One thing stood out above everything else; they all wore a genuine, heart-warming smile.

He stopped at the last one, a familiar face amidst these 11 strangers. ''Ashton?'' Eric asked, not believing his eyes. "You're OK then?" He had feared that the fall and his rescue attempt had been in vain, and Ashton was dead. Eric smiled as he looked into the rounded, beaming face of a strong leader.

''Yes, young sir," Ashton spoke kindly. ''Not only did you slay that beast, but you also saved my life. For this I give you my undying gratitude, and shall repay you with any task you demand of me, as that is our way.'' He bowed deeply, and Eric knew that it was one of complete trust and loyalty.

"Tonight we celebrate." Announced Ashton to the increasing numbers of Hawcon appearing out of the woods, "and I'd like you, Eric, to be our guest of honour."

Eric's face turned a full cherry red colour as the blush ran through him. "Thank you, but there is no need to." He appealed to the group for support of his plea of modesty to be heard, but it was to no avail. Every single face beamed their delight, all seemingly grateful to extend their hospitality to their new friend.

Ashton shook his head "You can't refuse the offer of a feast from the Hawcon, as we provide the finest fayre in the whole of this land." Ashton waited for a reply.

Eric was feeling hungry, and didn't want to seem rude by refusing. "OK, then" he added modestly.

The crowd cheered with delight.

Truth

After Harrap and his team got Kram into the laboratory, he'd left them to repair the unlucky boy's injuries while he got on with the most important task in hand, finding Eric Peterson. He'd already realised that Eric had probably used the Kylapitar to escape, and as such wondered if that was easier to find, rather than finding a human. He'd communicated with various colleagues he knew, and more importantly, trusted. After three redirections from Sej, a school friend who was on K'nash's ship, to Ronal in the scientific research institute on Rexon itself, he'd ended up with someone he'd been sat next to at a convention of human blood types three years ago; a very attractive and slightly younger female Rexon by the name of Ejan. They'd spent 3 days at the convention, learning about white cells and red cells, clotting agents, diseases, arteries and how they harden, and lots and lots more that he'd put to great use in perfecting the serum he'd created. Yet it wasn't the enjoyment of the subject he remembered, it was the night's he'd spent with Ejan.

"Harrap, well hello there again." Her voice was a playful as he'd remembered, teasing his senses, arousing his passion from a quiet sleep.

He looked at the even more gorgeous vision that appeared on his screen. "Erm, yes, hello, erm, hi, how are you." He blushed as the words stumbled and fought to get from his brain to his mouth.

Ejan giggled lightly, her voice a chorus of songbirds to his ears.

Dor was sitting across the room and flashed a pair of evil eyes in his direction as she listened intently to the flirtatious conversation.

"I'm fine thank you, working on Scarx with Prant himself." Her eyes flashed wide when she said his name, the excitement of working with such an infamous and influential person evident.

"Oh, good, well done you." Harrap's heart sank a little, as he'd seen those eyes widen in excitement before, for him.

"Yes, I'm second lead already, Prant seems to be very pleased with my offerings."

"I bet he is." Dor mumbled in the corner of the room, and then smiled weakly at Harrap, who'd heard her.

Harrap ignored Dor's snide comments. "I need your help, as I believe you are one of the very few Rexon who can track a Kylapitar." Harrap tried his best to be light and friendly, even though he was dying inside. The time they'd together was wonderful, yet he now realised it was his position within K'Nash's ship that had been her main drive for using him.

"I can," she paused, her eyes narrowing. "Why does Eklan's Lead Scientist need to find one?"

Harrap stopped, as he hadn't thought that she'd enquire why, only that she'd be willing to help. Yet now, as he saw her for what she really was, he knew that he'd have to work out a good excuse, or at the very worst tell the truth.

A groan from behind caught his attention, as Kram stirred whilst others sealed cuts, fused bones, mopped up pools of orange blood, hands working furiously on different parts, all working with one task in mind, save the young man. That helped Harrap make his decision. He knew Eklan would track this line of enquiry to him, but he hoped he'd have her Kylapitar back before then. His face hardened, "Eklan's lost hers."

"What?" Ejan's eyes widened one more. She leant in closer to the terminal, lowering her voice to a husky whisper, the type between two lovers as they start to let the passion build to an eventual climax. "Tell me more."

Harrap explained all that had occurred, receiving slight gasps and giggles as the story unfolded. He noticed that she even gave a reasonably sincere look of sorrow for Crough and Kram's attacks.

"Oh dear, what a story." She shook her head in dismay. "How's Kram doing now?"

Harrap was impressed that she'd actually been listening to the names. "He's fine now." He glanced to make sure. "We've patched him up and given him some pain killers that should keep him out and help ease his worries for a while."

"You're a good man Harrap," she smiled, "too good for a bad lady like me."

It was one of the kindest ways he'd been knocked back, and he felt a slight admiration for her ability to move on up, and not burn bridges along the way, just in case she needed to cross them in her future.

"Give me a second." She tapped on her keyboard,

Harrap watched her face contorting through a range of emotions from dumfounded to pleasure as she worked her way through the system.

"Yes, it's tagged, and it's on..." she stopped and re-read the name of the planet, a puzzled look on her face. "It's on Ansolon."

"Are you sure?" Harrap was shocked to hear the news his friend was telling him.

"I'm positive, the device's trail is the same as you'd explained, your ship, Earth, back and forth again, but it's definitely now on Ansolon."

Harrap looked at the keyboard, hoping the jumble of letters would change order and show him what he wanted to ask. It didn't, yet he had one last question. "You wouldn't happen to know where on Ansolon, would you?"

Ejan's face looked pained, "I'm sorry honey. The program only shows that it's on the planet." She sighed. "I could find out a little closer detail, but I'd need to use the equipment in K-lab, and that's under Prant's strict control." She looked earnestly at the screen, "I could ask, I'm sure he'd be willing to help?"

"No, no, that's OK," Harrap quickly recoiled at the thought. "Ansolon is more than close enough an answer for me to appease her ladyship."

"Well, I'm so glad I could help, honey." Ejan smiled, and then winked. "It's always a pleasure."

Harrap's heart melted a little. "Thank you and maybe we'll meet again at another convention." He smiled, as he closed the communication, knowing it would never happen.

As soon as the screen went dead, Ejan dashed through the corridors of the Scarx base to her commander, Prant, to give him the news of this latest revelation. The Commander was laughed heartedly at the Eklan's failures, and quickly passed the information up the chain of command. He knew it would be a useful snippet to be cashed in at a later date when he needed something from K'nash.

Missing in Action

"Vapourised?" Colonel Gordon Kelsall leant forward, his elbows on his oak desk, fingers steepled in the air. His brow was furrowed as he read the word on the report before him, disbelief in his voice. "Vapourised!"

The day before, Ian Jackson had returned to the secret MI9 base set in a dis-used quarry near the village of Nether Kellett, on the western rise of the Bowland Fells in Lancashire. He'd called in the Code 36, a Public Interest Security Situation, to Colonel Kelsall. The code meant they needed to secure the area and keep the public at bay. Colonel Kelsall had passed the call up the chain of command to head office. Inside the infamous white building facing the Thames, housing all sections of the British Military Intelligence, a call went direct to the Home Office, giving them the Code 36 details that had occurred. It was immediately pinged across the capitals river, through Special Branch, down to the Chief Constable of the Lancashire Constabulary. He excused himself from the morning Heads of section meeting, went back to his office, removed the process document from the sealed section of records on the Constabulary's shared drive, read it through before giving the standard Code 36 message to his people on the ground.

Plain closed officers from an inter-county task force will be on site to head up the investigation. Lancashire Constabulary officers need only to keep the public at a safe distance.

That had all happened within the first hour, and Ian was always been amazed how the powers-that-be could be so efficient on something so serious, yet would argue over the font to be used on a sign. He'd hung around long enough for the Nether Kellett team to get there and take over, before he headed back to the base to write up the report. His team had found very little over and above the arm and the weapon, and Ian soon realised that the immediacy of finding useful data had passed. They would gleam no more from the crime scene.

36 hours later and Ian took his seat, across from his Commander in Chief.

"It says he was vapourised." Colonel Gordon Kelsall read the line of the report once more, hoping the words would change to something he could comprehend.

"That's what Lanky says he saw, sorry Captain Lancaster says he saw."

"Right." Gordon was old-school, coming from a time of using conventional weapons.

"No, we got our hands on the weapon they used, so Cock-," Ian stopped as the nick-name got halfway out. The base was kept fairly relaxed, helping the soldiers cope with what they did, but some formalities remained. "Sorry sir, Sergeant Cockburn is attempting to unscramble its secrets as we speak."

"Good man that Cockburn, a touch of OCD, but the man for the job. He'll be thorough with items like this. Excellent." He spun his chair round and looked at the fading sun over the Irish Sea. From their elevated position on the side of the Bowland Fells, they had a wonderful advantage to occasionally snatch a moment to watch the closure of the day's events. "Lovely colours." He said out loud, sitting back into his chair, facing away from Ian, enjoying that last flourish of brush strokes across the sky.

Both men were silent for a few moments as the Sun dipped its toes into the Irish Sea, dragging in its wake a gorgeous palette of pastels, from purples to oranges, yellows and reds.

"So back to my question, is that it for Eric Peterson?" The Colonel asked.

"No." Ian replied, quickly and clearly, for in his mind, he knew it wasn't over. "Something else happened." He paused and watched the sun try to cling on before slipping away, the sky already changing to the blue end of the spectrum. "The Captain saw what he saw, but I don't think what he saw actually happened."

Gordon laughed as he spun his chair round. "What, he saw was what he saw, but.." He stopped because he couldn't process what Ian had just said.

"Dave saw one of Eklan's henchmen aim that gun we have, and he saw a flash of light." Ian leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on the top of his fingers. "Something else or some other things happened." He emphasised the words.

"I still don't understand."

Ian quickly moulded his theory in his mind; he ran through the probable scenarios, testing the thought that was there. This was one of his fortes, quickly formulating a plan, and then rigorously testing it to destruction, if required. "Who is to say that they're connected?"

"What?" Gordon was lost, anxious to understand his Majors thoughts.

"Dave thinks they shot Eric, but what he saw was a gun being aimed and a flash of light." He waited for the nod from his Colonel. "They could be independent actions, we're assuming there's a connection between them."

Gordon sat back in his chair, a slight smile on his lips at the faint hope that Eric Peterson was still alive. "This could be excellent news." He slid open the bottom drawer of his desk and removed a tall thin box, opened it, and removed a bottle. He reached back into the drawer and pulled out two glasses. "I presume Cockburn is working along those lines?"

"And the Doc on the arm."

"Results are expected when?"

"Give me another 48 hours and we'll be getting somewhere.

"I think this calls for a tiny celebration." He handed a glass of the tea-coloured liquid to his Major..

"I can see it is only a small celebration." Ian replied with a smile as a large glug of the amber liquid sloshed around in the glass. "Ice?"

Gordon cocked his head as his answer to the question on the ice. "Why do you say it's only a small celebration?"

"Because you've only brought out the Glenmorangie, which is for small to medium celebrations." He smiled as he brought the glass to his lips, sniffing and enjoying the warming scent. "The 18 year old Talisker is for medium to good celebrations." He took a sip and let it roll into the well he'd created with his tongue. It stayed there for a second before being tipped down the throat, warming everything it touched. "Nice." He looked up at the Colonel. "And finally the 40 year old Macallan is for the very best of occasions."

"Ha!" Gordon let out a burst of laughter. "If your theory is right about the two actions being unconnected, and Eric is still out there somewhere." He took a sip from his glass, savouring the taste. "And you then bring him home, I'll give you a flaming bottle of the Macallan."

Ian raised his glass, chinking it with his Colonels. "Deal."

Deals.

"So, 'You' have a problem" K'nash, the Rexon Leader jabbed a finger across the large meeting room. The reflection in the highly polished surface of the mahogany table doubled the effect.

The threat wasn't the problem. It was the deep gravelly voice which irritated King Harvin of Ansolon. It sounded like rocks in a mixing machine, rattling around and around, the tone never changing. He'd listened to that voice many times since first hearing it 8 months earlier, and he always looked forward to the moment he could close the meeting.

He'd wanted to meet beings from another galaxy since being a small child. Harvin always had one eye glued to the end of a telescope whenever he found a spare moment. A faint smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth as he remembered his first telescope. To him, it was as real as any in the finest observatory on his planet. It was actually a cardboard tube from middle of a toilet roll.

He currently sat in the centre of one side of the long table, the tweak pulling his mouth further into a grin as his mind drifted away from another tedious meeting with the Alien leader and his overbearing entourage of cloaked advisors. The grin wasn't because it seemed so silly that he'd once been so young and innocent to believe that something so simple could be a telescope. No, he smiled now because he could still hear his mother, Queen Harilly, shout his full name upon finding a previously full roll of toilet paper unraveled on the floor of the bathroom.

"This problem is very serious, yet you find time to smile" the voice shattered the memory, whipping him back to reality. "So, what are YOU doing about it?" K'nash stood up and thumped the table.

Harvin composed himself, stood up and walked around the table to his accuser. He wasn't an overly tall man, at just over 1.75 metres, but he had the air and confidence that came with his position as King. His strength had been passed down from his father, the "Great King" as he was now referred to by historians. And, for the most part, the people of Ansolon liked him.

He was known to be firm, yet fair; a trait his father taught him from a very early age. Fairly thick set, an oval face topped in jet black hair, and his rounded chin had a dash of a small goatee. Both were showing the first signs of his position and age as salty flecks could be seen.

"My security forces have been doubled within the city walls", he stopped as he got to within half a metre of K'nash, "Although who they are looking for is still a little vague, even though You say that this boy needs to be captured, as he is a threat." He stared straight into K'nash's cold, lifeless eyes.

"You doubt my integrity?" The Alien drew in a full chest of air, raising his shoulders up a few centimetres, trying to intimidate Harvin.

"No, I have no doubt whatsoever that this boy needs to be found by us, no doubt at all about that. And if you could tell us more, maybe a better description, or use some of that wonderous technology you have to narrow down his whereabouts to a land mass." Harvin opened his arms out either side to emphasise the uncertain direction and instructions he had been given, "never mind the vagueness of what he has done, then maybe I could give my chief of security a better chance of catching him." He turned away from K'nash, his anger visible to all, but still under control as he walked back to his chair.

"He is the source of the Sarf."

Harvin stopped, his head slowly lowering as he heard K'nash's words.

"A carrier who is spreading the disease from city to city and we believe that he is heading towards this capital." The alien suddenly added, knowing this would get the king's full attention.

Harvin wasn't convinced. He waited a second, trying to think of all the permutations of K'nash's plan that were being played like a game of chess. He feigned a look of surprise and turned back to the Rexon leader. "The Sarf?" He drew his hand to his mouth; the other grabbed the back of the nearest chair as he staggered slightly.

Since K'nash's people had raised the alarm the evening before, Harvin had spent the majority of the last 24 hours wondering why the Rexon wanted this young man to be captured so quickly. The Sarf was one of the excuses he'd thought of, along with theft, resistance, even simple back-chat from a teenager, and a few others he daren't even re-consider. He had his own teenage daughter, so knew what they did, but there was nothing too severe to be hunted by a race of Aliens. Something else was wrong, something that the Rexon didn't want Harvin and his people to know. This was the real reason, and somehow he had to find out what it was. But for now, he had to make it look like he was co-operating.

"He will be caught, and now you've told me your reason for wanting him, I will make every effort to place him into some medically protective custody before he enters our city." He stated clearly, looking straight at the alien, his best poker face on display.

Harvin had never been able to guess the Rexon's features. They never seemed to change their expressions, except for a grotesque smile that thankfully appeared infrequently. Unfortunately, whereas a human can be read from a whole host of facial movements and actions, especially around the eyes, the Rexon had no tell-tale signs. He also didn't know if they could read humans, not just from their facial expressions or body language, but maybe they sensed other more subtle changes in chemical imbalances or temperature changes, things that Harvin wouldn't have seen without scientific equipment. For now, he had to use all his political fortitude to placate the Rexon, and hopefully make sure that the right thing was being done, and not give away any signals.

He used the moment to study K'nash; the Commander of the formidable Rexon ship, currently orbiting his planet. Taller than most humans, at around 2.1 metres for the warrior cast, they walked with a small stoop, their backs naturally arching over, placing their faces into near constant and sinister looking shadow. They had an elongated chin, far pointier than anything he'd seen before, with two folds of skin between the bottom lip and the tip of the chin. Further up, the cheekbones were hollowed, as if starved of food for several months, giving them the appearance of being frail. Alas, those looks were deceptive, as Harvin had seen their physical strength at close hand.

K'nash blinked.

Harvin gave it a few more seconds before turning away. As he returned to his seat; he kept the smile contained, knowing that he'd made his point. He was also pleased that he didn't need to look into those eyes any longer than he had to. Most people, from politicians down to the hushed whisperings of the palace maids talked about one thing. If they'd seen a Rexon up close, they all had the same look in their eyes. They were described by one and all as blank, lifeless pools of black oil. There was no other colour, no white surrounding the iris. This left the impression that they were without any feeling, that they had no soul. That was why he'd never been able to gauge their real intentions and feelings, during any discussion or negotiation, and why he never trusted them fully.

"Capture him and bring him to us, and we can harvest a vaccine for the Sarf. We promised you many cures for many diseases, and that is your worst is it not?" The cheeks hollowed even more as K'nash pulled his lips back into a weak smile, trying to show a helpful side..

"Yes it is" Harvin answered resignedly, and returned the forced smile. He knew the Sarf was wiping out whole villages to the east of the country, and he was grateful that it hadn't spread as far as Killnjar, his capital city, yet. He also knew that K'nash was using the Sarf as his main excuse to get him to do virtually whatever he needed.

K'nash glided out of the room, his two guards drifting along in his wake, followed by the rest of his advisors. Harvin thanked his small group of advisors, the only ones he could drag in under such short notice after the Rexon called the meeting an hour before.

A Feast for Sore Eyes.

Eric's cut lip and bruised head were dealt with carefully by the pretty Hawcon he'd met earlier, which kept the flushed effect on his face for the whole afternoon, and into the early evening.

Preparations for the feast were ongoing a short distance away. The dense foliage kept Eric's imagination working overtime on the Lilliputian difference between the Hawcon and himself, wondering if the amount of food on offer would be enough to satisfy his raging hunger. Eric quickly worked out that he hadn't eaten a great deal since leaving Mr.Poonk's house that morning, many miles away.

Even though his stomach rumbled its disapproval at being cut off from any sustenance for so long, the gentle tending of his wounds left him quite relaxed and he leant back against a stout tree, falling quickly into a fitful slumber.

Eric started to dream.

He and Tom were playing snooker, but he wasn't using a cue, it was an extra-long thigh bone. Tom stood at the end of the table, chalking his thigh-bone, before lining up his next shot. Eric's cue-bone became covered in blood and muscle; he looked at Tom in horror. Only it wasn't Tom, and the garage had disappeared. Eklan stood before him in the middle of Steelgate Drive, and she laughed and pointed at him as Weyin and Klarg fired their weapons all around. Eric started to spin, he watched as the Aliens killed everyone in sight. He felt dizzy and stumbled, dropping his skeletal cue. The whole of his neighborhood was a war zone of burning cars and semi-demolished houses. Flames leapt from windows and from under the eaves, licking the roof tiles above; smoke billowed out of chimneys. Some houses had no roofs, and parts of blown-up buildings lay strewn across the road. Cars had been abandoned everywhere, doors and bonnets missing, windows smashed, nearly all on fire. An explosion ripped through the house across the road from Eric. He ducked as huge pieces of masonry were thrown all around. The ground started to move, and below him a mass of bodies, all friends and neighbours, scrambled over one another to get to him, pleading for his help. Eric saw his mum staggering towards him, her clothes tattered, her face charred from smoke, arms and legs covered in cuts. She stumbled through the crowded scene of the barely living and the living dead below them, her hands over her stomach. As she neared, she tried to grab onto him, wanting something solid to cling to. Eric recoiled in horror; an Alien gun blast had cut a dinner-plate sized tunnel straight through her midriff. He backed away, wanting to leave this place of horror and fear, but tripped over a body behind him. He went into slow motion, falling backwards, blood soaked hands clawing at his body. Everybody was wailing and screaming for his help as he dropped to the floor. He could see his mum mouthing the words "Help Us Eric!", but all he could hear were the moans of the injured and dying, and of the dead coming to claim him. Hands dragged him down, bodies piling over him, trying to suck a piece of his life into them. Eric fell further and further and did the only thing he could do; he closed his eyes and screamed.

He felt a hand rocking him back and forth, and even with his eyes closed he could still visualise his mother's blood splattered, half-dead face before him, her hands clutching onto his shirt. He knew he had to look at her and carefully opened his eyes.

"Are you OK, Eric?" Ashton hovered before him. "You seemed to be having a frightful nightmare"

Eric couldn't understand what was being said to him as he snapped from one strange reality to another. "Sorry, what?" He glanced around the forest, wondering for a brief moment where his mum and the war ravaged street had gone.

"You fell asleep," Ashton continued, "and I must say that it looked and sounded like you were having a frightful dream." The look of concern was evident on Ashton's small face.

"Dream?" enquired Eric, wiping the sweat from his brow and taking in a deep breath of the sweet forest air. "What do you mean?"

"You were thrashing about quite a bit, so Enya came looking for assistance" said Ashton, pointing into the forest where a frightened Enya hovered. "Fortunately, I was already on my way to collect you for the feast, and thus arrived moments later, just as you started to scream".

"Scream?" said a now embarrassed Eric, the dream having evapourated away.

"Oh yes, a clear and very primeval scream" added Ashton, "a definite cry for help." He looked deeply into Eric's eyes and could still see the fear. "What had affected you so?"

"Well nothing really", he glanced at the anxious Enya, not wanting to upset anyone else with the details of his dream.

Ashton understood, admiring this young man's chivalry. "Anyway, dreams are very personal, and to not reveal those inner thoughts and visions is your prerogative." He looked at Eric, and gave a knowing wink. "Now then, I'd say after the day you've had, you look hungrier than the King-eagle, so let's go and enjoy your feast." He smiled at Eric. "Come along, my young hero; as Guest of Honour, you shouldn't be more than fashionably late."

Eric accepted the gracious offer of changing the subject, and of some food. "I'm starving"

He was led by Ashton round a clump of bushes, and then through a gap wide enough for Eric, that looked as if it had only been created that day. They've gone to a lot of trouble, thought Eric. It opened into a large clearing. Tiny lanterns hung on branches creating a wonderfully soft light, making the area feel warmer and cosier. Ashton led him to a pile of logs that had been stacked and bound together with twine to create a quite sturdy seat.

As Eric took hold of the arms of the chair, he saw there was over 200 other Hawcon around the clearing, all staring directly at him. He had a fleeting feeling that he was being set up and the chair would give way. This would make him look the fool he currently felt like. He turned his head towards Ashton, who simply gestured for him to sit.

Eric carefully obliged, and found that not only was his first impression of it being a very sturdy chair correct, but it was also quite comfortable. The base and the back had been covered in leaves and long grasses, giving it ample padding under his tender muscles. He smiled at the group around him, and relaxed, feeling safer in their company than he had for quite a while.

Everyone made themselves comfortable and as the rustling of leaves died down, Ashton started his speech. "I'd like to welcome all of you to this celebration of life and friendship" he turned and bowed to Eric as he finished the sentence. Eric smiled at everyone, becoming more self-conscious by the second. He looked at Ashton, who had held his bow, but was peering at him through a slightly upturned head. Eric realised what was wrong, and returned the bow quickly..

Ashton smiled at Eric as he continued. "We are here to thank our Guest of Honour, a young man I personally owe my life to." The peaceful forest erupted into life with the roar of clapping, cheers and whoops of appreciation.

Eric had never been as embarrassed in his short and up until recently, relatively uneventful life. He wanted a hole to open up beneath his chair and swallow him and decided that the time honoured method he'd used at school was more appropriate at this time. So, Eric slowly sank into the chair, squeezing down into every hollow and gap that his body could find until he was as close as he could get to it, without actually becoming part of the branches themselves.

Ashton beamed as he watched Eric's slow descent, "A modest chap, who helped create this feast with a single strike," Ashton waved an arm to his left.

Eric's fears of being hungry disappeared as 30 bird people flew in carrying the plucked and cooked king-eagle. Floating along on a blur of small Hawcon wings behind the main course was an assortment of platters, each filled with vegetables of varied colours, shapes and sizes. Some looked familiar, some very strange. It was as if they'd perfected the genetic splicing of a potato with a purple cauliflower. There was a blue and hairy carrot, and some green onion rings. Eric hoped they tasted better than they looked.

Ashton carried a very large knife, and presented it to Eric.

"We would be honoured if you would carve this fine beast". The knife, although quite large when compared to Ashton, still seemed extremely small compared to the cooked bird.

"Well, yes." Eric accepted the knife hesitantly. "Thank You. It would be my, erm, pleasure". If the truth was told, he was scared witless, as he'd never done anything like this before. He'd only recently been allowed to cut the Christmas cake; although this was soon stopped as his Mum started to complain about portion control, more from the point of her piece reducing in size, compared to Eric's magically-increasing slice. Yet, here he was, in a forest, in heaven, being asked to carve a whole cooked bird the size of small car. This was something only his Dad had done, after cooking the Christmas Goose. To make matters worse, the beast he walked towards gingerly was 50 times bigger than the usual goose he and his Dad used to collect from Preston market. He'd never gone to the local park to slay it personally with a rock.

He took a deep breath and walked around it, looking from it to the relatively small knife he was holding. He turned to Ashton, who smiled and nodded for him to proceed. Eric smiled back. The very hungry Hawcon watched his every move, waiting patiently. He leant forward, and gently carved a very thick chunk of meat onto a platter that four Hawcon had hovering next to him. As the meat slapped onto the plate, Eric was relieved to hear the deafening cries of joy from the audience. It's easier than I thought, and proceeded to carve the bulk of the breast off the bird.

Janosh Acflor

As the last person left and the conference room doors closed behind them, King Harvin of Ansolon turned to his left and tapped the keyboard of the computer used for presentations. "Did you hear all that?" he said to an apparently blank computer, as the projector that was slung from the ceiling came to life. Harvin collapsed into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair to refresh his mind and try to wipe away the disgust and loathing he felt after every confrontation with K'nash.

"Every damn word that passed by those lying yellow teeth". The oversized head and shoulders of the chief of security projected onto the end wall. "That was a good idea to let the screen time out and go blank, I presume they didn't realise that the web-cams were still live and I could see and hear it all."

"I think they're so wrapped up wanting to find this poor boy, that they never had an inkling that they were being overheard", Harvin added, still pondering the reasons why they needed him. "So I'd like to know your thoughts on this boy?"

"I believe that they're not telling us anywhere near everything," Janosh continued, always suspicious of everyone "Although you have to admire their constant use of the Sarf to get our help." He nodded, appreciating their guile. "You know my feelings on the Rexon and on the Sarf, and I don't think either is connected in any way to this boy." He looked at Harvin, as if he was in the room. "Finding him is my top priority".

Harvin smiled at the image of his Chief, "Thanks, and keep it quiet."

Janosh Actflor nodded at his screen before switching it off. Not a tall man, at 1.7 metres, but his upper body formed a perfect upside-down isosceles triangle. The apex at his waist, fanned out and up to very broad shoulders, whereupon two thick muscular bough-like arms sprouted, with toned fingers on their ends. An unruly mop of fiery red hair topped his head, infuriating the court stylists, for no matter how hard they tried, it wouldn't look neat. This gave him the amusing name of Chief Floppsy.

Today had been the celebration of his first year as Chief. He sat in his quiet office, running his fingers through the orange mane, trying to tame it. This was a soothing action that helped him relax, whilst contemplating his next move. He looked at the far wall, purposefully left blank to help him clear all erroneous thoughts to aid concentrating on the singular problem at hand. This was a simple life lesson from the very best Martial Arts Master he'd trained under whilst in the military.

He slowed his breathing, relaxed, clearing his mind. He allowed one simple thought back in, the boy the Rexon wanted. He carefully rotated the image of a young boy around in his mind's eye. He looked at the possibilities, the implications, and his actions. He had officers out searching for him, asking, probing. He'd also mentioned it to a select few from the other side of the law, but it was only to the ones he 'trusted'. He constructed his plan for about 10 minutes. This was long enough for his computer screen to go blank, and the sound of the rain splattering on the windows to be a soothing aid, not a drumming nuisance.

Janosh had a basic plan ready to work through when his computer screen leapt back to life. His Desk Sergeant's face appeared, a worried look on it. Within a few seconds of listening to his sergeant, Janosh knew that he had to go and have a word with someone, before Harvin found out.

Eye of the Mind

By the end of the meal, everyone was as stuffed as the bird had been. The rest of the King-eagle was stripped clean by a host of Hawcon, who sealed the meat in large leaves to be stored for meals over the next few weeks. Eric sat back, rubbing his bowed stomach, the hunger well and truly squashed. He turned to his host "Thank you Ashton. That was the greatest feast I've ever had."

"You deserve it, my good friend". Ashton crossed his perfectly formed little legs, making him comfortable. He looked deeply into Eric's eyes, "Now, my Friend, we need to talk about you, and your problems, and also of the Alien item you carry"

Eric's eyes had become quite heavy, the effects of the meal taking its toll, but they sprung wide open as he heard Ashton's last words "Erm, what item?" he straightened up, avoiding Ashton's direct gaze.

"How I know of it is not your concern; just that I do." Ashton added, with a short nod of the head. "And I also know where it came from." He took in a huge breath to ease the discomfort from his own excessive eating, and after fiddling about to release his belt from his trousers, he continued "but I know not what this devices purpose is, nor what it does".

At this, Eric turned to Ashton "You know what it is?" he added incredulously. He slipped the metallic object out of his pocket and after looking at it for a second, feeling its unique warmth, he opened the lid and held it out towards Ashton.

"Ah, I believe that this is called a Kylapitar," he looked up at Eric, who was amazed at Ashton knowing its name, "but I'm still unsure of its powers" Ashton stared intently at the symbols "If only we could decipher these cryptographs, then we would have a real chance to learn this devices uses."

"The Alien said it was a Kylapitar, just before..." he left the end of the sentence hanging in the cooling forest air as it was still a little strange to be talking to someone about what had occurred.

"So, you've met our 'friends'?" Ashton raised one eyebrow, changing the subject slightly to ease Eric's concerns.

"Erm, yes," He realised his initial story had been blown apart. "But, it was before I came here."

Ashton smiled at him knowingly, "Anyway, We have heard of two more of these devices that the Rexon use."

"The Rexon, who are they?" Eric asked.

"They are the race of aliens you encountered."

"So, how do you know about these?" Eric glanced at the Kylapitar, "And how do you know about the Rexon?"

Ashton trusted this young man, but could he tell him everything? This mere boy had appeared in their forest, had saved his life, and even though he told little white lies, Ashton felt in his heart that Eric was pure, innocent and most importantly; that he was true. Ashton knew he had to trust him. He knew that the young man sat beside him was the one the prophecy told of. He had to be the one, as the first part of the tale had come true.

Ashton spoke the first two lines of the prophecy.

"He faced death, passed from his world,

The man-boy with the aim of the gods."

Ashton looked at this boy, barely on the edge of manhood, and dared to wonder if the remainder would come true. He knew the whole prophecy by heart, as it was handed down from generation to generation of Hawcon. A nighttime story told to children, but a story that every leader for a millennia dreamt of coming true. Each and every one believed that they would be the fortunate soul to would meet "The One".

He quietly spoke the next two lines.

"Within ancient walls, alliances formed,

Prince and Pauper unite against all odds."

He sighed as he had dallied, along with many of his peers over the last few centuries, that this was a mere fable to chase away childhood fears. Ashton needed that second part to become true before he would consider the remainder of the tale. Was he the hope they needed now more than ever?

If those parts come true, then maybe he is the one, he thought to himself. He stopped his heart before it could race away full of hope. Let's not be too hasty and tarnish this boy's future with our hopes. He resigned the thoughts to the back of his mind, until Eric had fully proven himself

Thoughts turned to the matter literally in Eric's hand. As he'd carried this burden so far, Ashton felt he could trust him that little bit more. "Eric, I believe that you need to meet an ally of ours." Ashton continued, "He can help discover the true purpose of the device you hold, and help you find the answers to your many questions, and then, hopefully, we can help each other in our respective, and I believe somewhat similar quests"

Eric heard the last sentence, and looked at the small winged person before him. He wondered how someone so small could ever be able help in his quest to find his dead friend. "That's very nice of you, and I'm not being ungrateful, but I don't think I need your help really" Eric answered, "I did what anyone would have done. I tried to stop that bird attacking and eating you", he added with a shrug, "You owe me nothing Ashton, honestly."

''But it was more than nothing, you didn't just try to stop that creature, you succeeded and in doing so." Ashton leant a little further forward. "You saved my life." Ashton was adamant that he had to repay Eric for his assistance. "For that you have my undying allegiance.''

These are very strange times, Eric thought, But if I have to face the Aliens and their weapons, then I would also require some strange allies. ''I don't want to seem ignorant, or unkind," He swallowed and looked sheepishly at Ashton, "And I'm very grateful for the offer, but I don't think you'll be able to help with my problems''

"You may think of me as no use, being so diminutive, but maybe your quest is not so dissimilar to ours.''

Eric could sense that this small winged man knew a lot more than he was telling. "I don't think you would believe me even if I told you," sighed Eric, pondering the enormity of his problem.

"Eric, my young friend, we know more about your Alien enemies than you do." Ashton explained, "And also of your pain in losing your friend Thomas, twice."

Eric's jaw dropped, his eyes became huge. The comprehension that Ashton knew so much, even things that he hadn't said. "But, But", he stammered in amazement "how did you know that, I never said anything about Tom", he looked to the ground, searching for his earlier story as if the script of his tale was lying there. He checked back over what he'd said and knew that his story had been very basic, nothing about Tom. He looked at Ashton, who simply sat in front of him with a faint smile on his face, "I don't get it, how do you know about Tom?" he asked.

"I will answer no such questions right now, my good friend and ally. If you want to get rid of these aliens then you must carry on with the task that is before you. I will try to help you with all my people's abilities Eric," and he smiled as he continued, "Including those abilities that I believe you are now starting to understand." Ashton closed his eyes and nodded slightly, tapping the side of his head with a finger, "but you see that these are the start of some dark and dangerous days. Nothing is safe, especially for you, just as nothing is safe for us any longer." Ashton paused and took in a deep breath that he eventually let out as a long sigh. "Please take some rest now, for tomorrow morning you must head for the capital city of Killnjar, and meet our comrade." He looked at Eric, who was exhausted, but Ashton had one final thing to say. "You must go Eric if you are to find some answers, and fulfill your quest, and the prophecy. May the luck of this world be on your side."

Eric was puzzled by this final remark. What did Ashton mean by this world being on His side? This was heaven wasn't it? Eric shrugged it off, as he suddenly felt too tired to think about anything. He chose to not ask any further questions, although one crept up as he started to drift off, but it couldn't fight the overwhelming exhaustion that was smothering his waking world. What prophecy? His mind and body felt completely drained. His head rolled back as he fell into a deep sleep, which thankfully came without the earlier dreams.

Breathe.

Eklan's ship docked with K'nash's after a few hours in hyperspace, the relative distance between distant galaxies being eaten up in a very short period of time. Yet, those hours had been so mind-numbingly boring. She had to get back to Ansolon, once informed her of Eric's whereabouts, but that meant she couldn't hide her mistakes out in the deep reaches of space. The journey back had been full of thoughts of trying to explain what had gone wrong, or how to get back and resolve the issue, and finally onto how she could use the problem to her advantage. Each train of thought only brought her to a dead end, and more misery. She was walking a very tight line. Many a commander had been obliterated from the Rexon archives because they'd used the wrong tactics, leading to a defeat in a battle. Some had previously been highly decorated leaders, a whole raft of victories behind them, but one or maybe two simple mistakes had wiped all of that from beneath their feet.

Eklan's mistakes had only been minor, the loss of a Kylapitar, the abduction of the wrong human; these had been nothing more than taking the wrong turn, or choosing the wrong meal. She'd so far been able to blame her scientific staff, seen as a lower class than the military on Rexon. Yet, allowing for that ability to pass the blame, Eklan asked herself the simple question that gnawed away at the back of her mind: how long could she carry on getting away with it before she was called in?

Her communicator buzzed as she walked along the vast corridors of her Supreme Commander K'nash's huge starship. She looked at the screen reluctantly, and saw that maybe today was the day her luck ran out.

From the outside the vessel looked like a boiled sweet wrapper, one end screwed into a fine point. 1500m long from the dramatic razor-sharp nose, through its 600m wide bulbous belly before firstly slimming down to the narrow section that joined the ship to the final cone shape housing the 9 stellar-drive engines. Along its forward sections, as it swept back away from the command centre housed in the nose, were row after row of gun turrets, all interchangeable, all individually tracking a separate target from any of the others around the ships surface. K'nash's starship was the latest in inter-stellar warfare and could target and destroy over 500 individual targets surrounding itself, with the pressing of one fire button.

The ship could deploy its fleet of 120 Zephyr class unmanned fighters within 4 seconds, from the 5 hangars around the vessel. The Zephyr class drones were self-intelligent, and self-learning, passing tactical maneuvering data of the enemy's ships between themselves as they fought, thus taking out one Zephyr meant that the others would learn how the enemy had done so.

It was the pride of the fleet, the first out of space-dock from the vast manufacturing centre based on the 3rd moon orbiting the Rexon home-world. The second was in production, but the minerals needed took months to dig, transport and refine, before being manufactured into the correct products on Rexon, transported to the 3rd Moon, and installed into the ship, thus K'nash was justifiably proud of his vessel.

Yet, at that moment, as Eklan saw her leader's name flashing away on the centre of the screen, she wanted to kick the buttresses that framed the segments of the ship, knowing she could do no damage, but it would release the scream inside her head. Eklan had hoped to sneak onto the ship, find an ally and complete a search for her Kylapitar on Ansolon, the planet the ship was orbiting, before anyone else realised.

She took a breath, checked that no one was around to listen in and tapped the screen.

K'nash's 3-dimensional holographic head grew from the communicator she was holding flat on the palm of her hand. "Welcome home Eklan." He beamed.

Eklan was instantly put on alert by this reaction, either he had no clue, and was genuinely surprised and pleased to see her, or knew a little, and was looking forward to dealing out her punishment. "Hello and thank you for the welcome." She replied, a twinge of sarcasm in her voice.

K'nash picked up on her tiny voice change and guarded expression. "Why are we so protective, I presume your mission went well?"

Eklan's internal warning system went from cautious to alert. "Yes, I managed to do all I set out to do." A sort of lie, but one she could defend, as she'd say that her mission hadn't been to apprehend Eric, but to test Harrap's perfected serum. The loss of her Kylapitar was unfortunate, and would never need to be mentioned.

"So tell me, why did you go to Earth?"

He knows something, Eklan thought to herself. "We tested the serum on a prime target from the home planet, and it worked."

"Just the one target?"

"Yes, that was all we needed for now, to see how quickly it developed, and how total it was." She felt a little more at ease discussing things she didn't need to lie about. The redirection of the conversation helped conceal the real reason for her returning back to the ship.

"Excellent and the minor mistake of losing the boy has been dealt with?"

Eklan felt a little more at ease. "Yes, he's back in captivity, and I deconstructed Harrap's second."

"And why not Harrap?" K'nash was surprised to hear of Eklan's change in tactics.

"He has created a new serum, so I felt he simply needed to keep focused on managing his people."

K'nash nodded, liking the method of motivating staff, knowing his mentoring was working. "So, you tried the new weapon Prant's people have developed, wonderful isn't it?" K'nash's eyes flashed in a moment of almost sexual pleasure at the thought of how the Nano-robots ate a target from the core out. "He's developing one that fires at many targets in one go, thus being able to wipe out whole armies from the press of one button."

Eklan smiled through gritted teeth as she thought how K'nash was praising her rival Prant. She knew he hated him as much as she did, but also knew K'nash knew her triggers.

"So, initially you caught who you thought was the Earth-born boy?"

"Yes." Her head dipped a little, minute facial recognitions of failure starting to show

"And now you've gone back and captured the boy?"

She knew who K'nash meant, and stalled for a second.

"Or was it the boy's best friend you've retrieved once more?"

Eklan's shoulders slumped, she'd been betrayed.

"And the boy, where is he now, on Earth?"

Her eyes closed as she tried to not watch the smile broaden on K'nash's face.

"And if the boy isn't on Earth, where is he?"

Eklan, had stopped wanting to find a clever way out of this conversation.

"And finally, let's just say, for example." K'nash raised one eyebrow, knowingly, "let's say he's here, on Ansolon shall we? And if he was here, how could an Earth-born man-boy get here?"

Eklan's shame was clear to anyone who saw her. The normally strong and statuesque Rexon commander slumped against a wall, holding herself up, wishing she could just hide anywhere away from the questions that sliced through her soul.

"So" Even in the low resolution of the hand-held holographic communicator, K'nash's face was clearly cold and dark. "Who were you going to see to find the boy and your Kylapitar?"

"Pount, Sire."

"I think you need to hurry that up a little, and I'll use my sources on Ansolon." He let out a little smile, "I've already got the stupid humans looking for him as we speak."

Mind Games.

Eric awoke to a rustling noise. Wondering if a small animal was snuffling around deciding if Eric's toes would provide a tasty little nibble, he leapt up and out of his makeshift bed. His fists flew up, taking on a boxer's stance; ready for action. He jumped as a heap of leaves fell on the floor around him. Eric let out a small laugh as he had made the rustling noise. The Hawcon had covered him in a blanket of leaves, keeping him warm during a chilly night. He brushed the remainder of the leaves off, as he looked around the peaceful forest. Birds sung merrily high above, calling for mates, enjoying the early morning's sun rising in the distance, coating the tops of the trees in a golden glow. Eric stretched his arms out, and let out a huge body trembling yawn. "Ow". Wincing as his tongue licked the re-opened cut on his lip.

"Good morning Eric." Ashton swooped down from a branch. "I see the cut on your lip I caused yesterday has not healed fully, let me get someone to tend to it."

Eric ran a finger gingerly over the re-opened cut, before inspecting the red blob he'd picked up. "No, it's OK. I probably opened the wound when I just yawned." Eric felt another surge grow through him, but caught himself, stopping it from being a full yawn.

"Did you enjoy the feast last night?" asked Ashton, as he gestured for Eric to sit back down.

"Yes it was wonderful, thank you."

Ashton hovered down onto the arm of the chair. "It was the least we could do to celebrate you saving my life."

Eric felt a small flush rise again, and he dipped his head. "So, I presume that we're straight now?" Eric asked hopefully.

"We're actually bent in the middle, because we're sat down my good friend", Ashton looked curiously at him, shrugging his shoulders.

Eric laughed, "No, I mean that you've repaid your debt to me now."

It was Ashton's turn to laugh, "Oh, I see" He continued smiling as he slowly shook his head, "You must think very little of us to believe that a mere meal was enough to repay a life debt."

"A life debt?" Eric was puzzled by this term.

"When one has saved another's life, they are then bound to that person, until a time when they can return the debt." Ashton explained clearly.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but that may never happen, and you'd have to be with me every hour of the day." Eric reasoned. "What if I stepped out in front of a bus, or a house fell on me, or if I was bitten by a rabid shrew." Eric pleaded his case, what he didn't want to say was that he thought it probably would never come to it, and if it did, Ashton was too small to help fend off an assassin, if one ever decided to pick on Eric, again.

"You don't quite understand what I mean." He looked Eric straight in the eye. "If you're in trouble, and are threatened, then I will be there to defend you against any attack, even if that meant sacrificing my own life to protect yours".

Eric initially found this quite touching, then a little shocking, to think that this person would lay down his life for him. "I think that's going a little too far."

"But is it?" Ashton started to explain. "Without your very valued and appreciated help yesterday, I would surely have died either within the claws of that beast, or again as I fell." He nodded at Eric to make sure he understood what he was saying. "Thus, for me to now live for even one hour longer is a gift borne through your actions. If I can then save your life by having to sacrifice my life, then I will have repaid the help you gave me. It's an equitable trade for helping me to live one second longer." And with that he crossed his arms and sat back, closing the argument.

Eric opened his mouth to counter the argument, and realised there would be no point. He still wondered how someone so small would be of use in saving his life, if a whole army of aliens aimed their weapons at him.

"I know what you're thinking" said Ashton with a sly smile.

I don't think you do, as you'd never believe me, thought Eric.

"I do know what you're thinking, Eric." He looked intently at him, leaning forward as he continued, "You're worried about your best friend Tom, who, I'm sorry to hear, died less than 3 weeks ago." Ashton watched as Eric's brow furrowed. "The stranger part was that he returned to you mysteriously and quite suddenly 2 days ago." He looked up at the point on Eric's forehead where Tom had crashed into him on the corner of Brownside Road and the alley down the side of Eric's house. "Am I right so far?" By the look on Eric's face, Ashton already had the answer.

Eric sat rubbing the point on his forehead, even though it wasn't sore anymore. He listened to everything Ashton was saying, but didn't understand how he knew the truth.

"I didn't explain our strengths to you last evening at the feast," Ashton explained, "although I did think you started to wonder about our hidden talents."

It came to Eric in a flash. "You can read minds." He was still looked shocked and wondered if Ashton had always known he was lying, or at least bending the truth when they first met.

"And Yes, you do need my help Eric, and I know that I can help you in your true quest, which is to rid this world and yours of the Rexon".

"The Aliens are here also? But how, this is.." His words trailed off as he wondered how these beings could be here, in Heaven. Could they cross dimensions as well as space?

"Yes, the aliens you met, they are also here on our world." Ashton continued. "They arrived about 8 months ago, with promises of peace and goodwill to all." He slowly shook his head as if he had knowledge of their true actions. "They promised medicines for diseases, education and to share their technology."

"Very nice of them, but that doesn't sound like the race of Aliens I met." Added Eric.

"Oh it is the same," Ashton continued, "and all they asked for was a small amount of waste ores from our mining operations, because they could process that into fuel for their ships." He sounded sad, "I can understand how everyone felt that it was a fantastic deal that King Harvin had struck with them." He sighed once more.

"And that was all they wanted, some Rocket fuel?" Eric was even more puzzled by this, as on Earth his Aliens hadn't even arrived, they were taking bodies from the grave to experiment on.

"So they said to our faces. It was wonderful for the first few months, illnesses that had plagued our world for millennia were irradicated, technology helped move on our medical world, our transport systems." Ashton's eyes saddened. "But after 4 months we started to hear the occasional story of pain and suffering. At first these were dismissed, and proof was sought to right the wrong, publically so in some cases." Ashton sighed. "Yet more and more stories appeared once the media moved onto new pastures, or were directed away from the truth."

"They forced the news to look elsewhere?" Eric asked incredulously.

"Some of our government thought it best to turn ones eye blind to the truth, as the good they brought outweighed the truth. They ensured that the media looked the other way."

"All that's necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing." Eric quoted.

"Very profound my young man."

"I remember it from a History lesson. It's a quote from a politician that one of our leaders used it during our last big war."

"A great statement, and so very true." Ashton nodded. "And that is what occurred. We heard more stories from our sources around the world, some horrific, and less and less people did anything about it." Ashton's face had lowered even more, his voice saddened,

"Ashton, what were they doing?" Eric asked cautiously as he wanted to know the answer, but was afraid of what it might be.

Ashton looked up at Eric, pausing for a second, "The same they had done to Tom," He let the words sink slowly in.

Eric sat in stunned silence. "So, they are here."

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Ashton continued. "There have been stories of slavery and killing games, but they haven't been confirmed" he held his hand up to stop the gossip before it traveled too far, "but as I said, they have been mere rumour and hear-say."

There was a moment's silence, pondering how anyone could have let it happen and how to stop it.

Eric spoke first, a defiant tone in his voice "So let's go and do something about it instead of sitting here."

"Eric, your enthusiasm and strong heart is very noble," the older and wiser Hawcon admired this young man, but he felt he had the duty to guide him along his journey, not let reckless emotions take him over. "Alas, that will only get you killed. We have to learn more about them, as they are doing about us. Then and only then can we defeat them."

"Learn more about what though," Eric thought this was pointless, as he wanted to start a war with them, even if it meant he challenged them alone. "Can't we persuade enough people to form a resistance against them?"

"There already is a resistance, and we are part of it." Aston explained, trying to curb Eric's enthusiasm a little, "And we have some powerful allies within, but now is the time where we need to be cautious." He placed his tiny hand on Eric's little finger: it barely covered the top, only just reaching the sides. "We still need a lot more information, especially about their technology." Ashton looked down at Eric's other hand, and what was there. "That Kylapitar you have is as good a start as we could hope for, especially as it belonged to the one called Eklan."

"You know of Eklan?" Eric felt he was in a huge tumble dryer being bounced, spun and bashed with every revelation. Her name came as a crushing blow, as she was the one who gave the order for Klarg to kill him.

"Oh yes, we've had dealings with her. A very nasty piece of work. Very dangerous." Ashton sat back, propping himself up on his wings whilst he rubbed his chin in deep thought.

"I already know, she killed me." The twinge of pain reappeared in his side. Eric looked at Ashton in a new light. Contrary to his first thoughts about this small Hawcon, he had wisdom and abilities that made him into a very useful ally. He started to feel a warm glow of hope build in the pit of his stomach.

"Right!" Ashton had sprung onto his feet with such speed that it startled Eric. "As I mentioned last night, you must go to the City of Killnjar," he said, his eyes flashing with passion. "In the centre you'll find an Inn, the Majestic Lion. Ask the landlord to help you meet with Arran Vorlet, who is known to us as not just as a friend and fellow resistance member, but he can help understand this device." He paused for a second and looked to be scouring the forest for the rest of his plan. His body froze, then as he slowly pointed a finger up, seemingly to the place where his plan was hiding in the trees, he continued. "He has a means to inform the King of your meeting with the Aliens, and the fact that you have this device. I believe that he will be very interested in meeting you and finding out what this is," he had become quite animated, walking back and forth along the arm of the chair, his arms flailing about as he wrestled the various parts of the plan. "He could then arrange a meeting between you and the King, and Harvin listens to your story, and sees the device, then we may have a chance."

Ashton slowed down his motions, a pleased look on his face. "Only the King has the power to launch a war against them."

Eric sat quietly taking in all the information. It didn't strike him at all strange that he was to meet a King of a world, as all he could see was a way forward. He nodded his approval as he thought it through.

"Good." Ashton said, more to himself on devising this scheme, but also to Eric, as he saw the contained excitement in his eyes. "You'd better head off now. It will take you most of the day to get there, and you don't want to be traveling along these lanes once darkness has fallen. We will prepare what help we can."

"OK", Eric pulled in a huge breath, readying himself for the journey ahead. "Thank you, for all your help and advice."

"Eric", sighed Ashton, slowly shaking his head "It is you we have to thank, especially me. Now wait there and I'll organise some necessities for your journey. Then I'll return and give you the directions to the Majestic Lion." He stopped at that point and smiled at Eric, holding out his tiny hand. Eric presumed he was about to embark on another journey and he hoped the Majestic Lion was a pub, not a very regal and proud King of the jungle. He took hold of Ashton's outstretched hand between his thumb and forefinger, shaking it lightly.

Eric sat back, contemplating the task that lay ahead. He noticed how wonderful the day had started, and enjoyed the morning sunrise that twinkled through the leaves. Sitting back, he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes to help focus his mind. Before he knew it Ashton returned, and gave him the directions he needed. Once finished, Ashton bowed once more. "I must make preparations with my people for the events that will soon unfold. I won't see you before you go, although hopefully, we will meet again soon".

Source Code.

"Boss?" Sergeant 'Cock-up' Cockburn shouted excitedly into his phone, "I've started to crack the code, and its...well, just come and see." He'd been using a range of algorithms developed from various snippets of data gleaned from the Rexon equipment snatched on various off-world missions. Ian Jackson had led most of those missions, and as such was the foremost expert in Rexon tactics. Yet, surprisingly it was the item Cock-up had found 4 years earlier that gave him the breakthrough.

Ian burst in through the door of the portakabin, puffing from the sprint across the floor of the vast quarry from the holographic rooms. Cock-up eyed him warily as Ian was wearing sparring pads.

"Hand to hand combat training." He shrugged an answer to Cock-ups smile. "Oh, before we get into this, and before I forget, the new settings and parameters for the sparring partners are a little too real."

"A little too real, how can that be a problem."

"This is the problem." He touched the slowly increasing crescent shaped bulge around his right eye.

"Maybe you need to practice some more." Cock-up grinned.

"Maybe I need to switch it off and see how you do against me." Ian replied, knowing he'd won the argument.

"Erm, yes, anyway about this gun."

Ian smiled hearing Cock-up fidget his way from the topic of hand to hand combat with his larger, faster and stronger opponent.

"I basically hooked it up through my laptop, and into the Kylapitar, and surprisingly got this."

Ian leant forward as the scrolling screen of gibberish melted before his eyes and changed to a long list of lines of data. "OK, so that neatens it up." He was struggling to find a suitable word as he realised Cock-up was impressed by what was now on the screen. But to Ian, it was alien as the language he'd just been looking at. He studied it carefully, wishing he could make some sense out of it. "But what does it mean?"

"The first column is the date."

"It is?" Ian looked at the sequence numbers and could see an increasing pattern, but it wasn't the usual day month year format he knew.

"It's based upon a star date that I think started around 15,000 years ago."

"OK."

"The days are 27 hours long, 392 days in a year."

"OK."

"Which I presume is based upon Rexon's orbit around their sun."

"Oh kay." Ian was just about keeping up with Cock-up.

"The second column is a time." He paused and let Ian scrutinize it a little. "Read it backwards, based off a 90 minute hour and 27 hour day."

"Ah, I get it, so that one's 83 minutes past 25 hours."

"Excellent."

Ian was still perplexed, but wanted to understand more.

"And finally the third, fourth, and fifth columns make up a set of 3 dimensional co-ordinates."

"But the numbers are quite big."

"I can't quite work out the units yet."

Ian tilted his head.

"If those figures are in miles, how long is their mile, as opposed to a kilometre," Cock-up explained.

"Right, any guesses?

"I'm going with Light years." Cock-up nodded at the scrolling numbers, expecting them to rearrange and agree with him.

"And that would mean?"

"If we assume that co-ordinate 0,0,0 is based on the Rexon homeworld, if we can pick up a set that equates to some action on earth, then we will know where they come from."

The Gorge.

Over the next hour many Hawcon came over to Ashton and Eric, armed with more information, describing the city, and making sure that he knew the safe route to the Majestic Lion, whilst others quickly arranged a small parcel of food for the journey. It wasn't long before Eric was heading off down the path, occasionally turning to wave at the ever diminishing friendly faces, and the warmth and safety of their home in the now darkening forest. He'd enjoyed the time with these new friends, but also knew he had to get to the city, especially if he could save Tom.

Walking for many hours, never stopping to rest, constantly reminding himself of what he had to do, where he was heading, the plan of the city in his mind, a rough description of the man he was being sent to see, and then hopefully find the help he needed. He weighted up every possible scenario he could think of, from getting lost in Killnjar to meeting the wrong person, and making sure Arran Vorlet was the right person. He kept on the move as he ate some more of the giant bird he'd had the evening before, along with an assortment of salad leaves and fruits that were abundant in the forest. A small smile crossed his lips as he thought about Enya, the beautiful young Hawcon he'd been smitten about a few hours earlier. She was a very pretty lady, and he was shocked to learn that she was actually more than three times his age. Ashton told him that the Hawcon lived a very long life, he himself being nearly 200 years old. Eric had said that he didn't look a day over 50, which seemed to please him.

As the day lengthened, tiredness crept into his limbs, but he pushed on all the more, determined to get to the Majestic Lion before sundown. He finally paused for breath, taking in a healthy swig of clear fresh woodland water, whilst admiring the wonderous view ahead of him. He stood on the crest of a small hill, the path ahead dropping down into a narrow crevasse. He took the moments respite to draw in a few huge lungfuls of clear air, and bent over to rub his weary thighs, before looking at the view. Eric saw that the forest spread as far as he could see, its thick layer of trees looking like clumps of broccoli as it passed out of view. It was a lush green blanket covering the land in all directions, all the way up and over the distant hills. Eric estimated that the hills ahead were about 10 kilometres away, and he knew that the city was just beyond that, as the directions he'd been given had told him so.

This heartened him, as he realised that even allowing for the undulations of the terrain, he should be there in less than 2 hours. He took one final deep breath, blowing it out slowly through pursed lips. He stretched his back and shoulders, and then set off for the final push to Killnjar.

He'd only gone 20 metres when his foot caught making him stumble a little way down the path into the valley. He managed to correct himself as his tired legs tangled with each other, and was thankful he didn't fall. Come on, legs, don't fail me now, we need to help Tom. He thought to himself as he stopped his downward momentum. Eric stopped walking, took another deep breath and closed his eyes. The dipping sun warmed his face, and he enjoyed a gentle breeze that drifted from the gorge ahead. He could hear a gentle rustling of leaves and he visualised the wind playfully tossing them over. Eric enjoyed the moment of peace.

Whack!

"Aaaarrghh", he fell forward as something hard connected with the back of his head. His outstretched hands slowed his descent, a huge cloud of dust and dirt swirled up and around him as he crashed onto the floor.

"Ooommph" The wind was kicked out of his lungs by a very large brown boot, sending him crashing sideways into a huge boulder. The dust clogged his eyes and Eric rubbed them, trying to clear the tear filled dust to hopefully see his assailants and defend himself. It was no good, more blows finding his head and body as the attackers used both their feet and fists on him. Eric thought it was either two or maybe even three people: it was hard to tell. He brought his arm up in defence of his face as a third kick sent his head crashing into the boulder, knocking him out.

Awaking a short time later, Eric had no idea how long he'd been out, but did know that his head throbbed, a lot. The small cut on his lip, given to him accidentally by Ashton, now had new friends. Each had its own little river of dried blood. The dust still clogged his eyes, and he knew it was in the gash on the back of his head. He ran his hand over the new landscape of his face, feeling the mountains created from the bruises erupting below the skin on his left cheek, and above his right eye. As tender and sharp a pain that they were all creating, the lump on the back of his head was the worst offender. The initial throbbing he'd felt first was now being replaced by what felt like the much more painful incessant banging of a pneumatic hammer working away inside his head.

At that moment, his body had the inclination to curl up and die, but a thought struck him. Die, but I'm already dead, this amused him. He raised his body carefully, shuffling his hand along in the dirt to help support his weight, feeling every bruise on his body cry out in agony. "Aarghh", he yelped as a broken rib bit into his side. His hand slipped back down, and he tried to stop his fall by digging it into the loose dirt. It stopped as he uncovered something very smooth and metallic. Looking down he saw the unearthed Kylapitar and wondered if it had been thrown from his pocket as he fell, then unknowingly and thankfully buried it in the dust and dirt.

Easing himself over, he leant against the boulder that had knocked him unconscious. "Sorry Mr.Boulder, I didn't mean to hit you so hard with my head." He said with a wry smile on his battered face.

The boulder never acknowledged his apology.

Eric took a deep breath and instantly regretted it as the pain bit his side again. He slowly eased out the breath through pursed lips, gingerly holding his side to help reduce the pain before taking a moment to let everything settle down to a manageable pain level. Holding the Kylapitar, he wiped the dust off its surface. The warmth was still there, and he took some small comfort from that. He flipped the lid open and saw the symbols kept changing; it was still working. One bit of good news. He thought to himself.

Glancing up from the device he noticed his right sock had a hole in it, and his big toe stuck out. This mirrored his face, looking battered and bruised. Mum will kill me. Then he realised what was actually wrong, the muggers had stolen his shoes. He looked around and noticed the boots that had inflicted some of the blows were also looking discarded and lost. The ground was quite stony around him and probably worse still further into the gorge, Eric thought to himself as he pondered over his latest dilemma. He realised that he had to have some footwear, and as decrepit as they looked, they were better than nothing. Dusting himself off, he stood up slowly and found his wallet and even his handkerchief had gone.

What the hell do they want with a hankie? He thought.

As he walked over to the boots a weird and very unpleasant odour drifted up to his nostrils. It got worse at each step and didn't take long to work out where it was coming from. Eric held the boots at arms-length, but it made no difference to the intensity of the smell. His hand covered his mouth and nose "Phew, those are really whiffy. They're worse than Tom's after a game of footie" and he turned away to get a clean gulp of air. It didn't help, as the smell was so thick, it stuck to the inside of his nostrils, clogging it like used oil down a drain. Each clean breath of air turned into something foul as it was taken in. "I should have been able to smell these back at Mr.Poonks." He retched.

Nevertheless, they were the best option available, and he hoped the smell would improve once his feet were inside, and they were further away from his nose. Eric slipped them on, gasping for air between bouts of tying the broken laces. Eric's uncovered toe rubbed against the side and they were a little tight, but he could walk in them. He took the first few tentative steps and was grateful the smell wasn't anywhere near as bad. Eric realised that he'd been unconscious for only a short while as there was still a little light in the sky, but it was dropping quickly. He set off again along the path into the gorge, and after only a few steps realised he could hobble reasonably quickly in them. Eric knew that he could not run with the injuries he had, but he still kept up a very fast walking pace as all his thoughts now were set on just getting to Killnjar.

Motivated.

"How did they manage space flight?" Dor asked.

"I don't know." Harrap replied, reading the latest set of communications from Ansolon. "I've seen a few human civilisations over the years, and it amazes me how some develop weapons, some transportation, some medicine, but none are the same, and none ever develop everything."

"I can only assume that they perform a function, and that's the initial need."

Harrap stopped for a second, then let out a small grunt of a laugh. "Dor, you amaze me."

"What, in the same way that humans do?" She played with his words.

"No, you beautiful, silly thing."

Dor blushed slightly.

"We're both scientists, quite high up in our fields. You have vast knowledge of pulse energy." He referred to Dor's widely acknowledged and used pulse energy weapons and propulsion systems, both being devised from the repeated pulsing of a wave, similar to a heavy beat of a bass drum. The boom being used to blast enemies in half, or on a much larger scale, drive huge ships across space. "And then there's me, someone who has studied human physiology and can create deadly vaccines and miracle cures." He let a smile play across his lips at the thought of the extremes he had managed to develop. "Yet, it is you who can understand the human psyche better."

Dor let out a laugh herself. "I think they call it the human condition, and in some ways, we have been the same."

Harrap tilted his head slightly to listen more intently.

"It's a means to an end. The end result dictates the method of getting to that point. We've done the same, as you yourself have seen."

"Have I?" Harrap enjoyed listening to Dors sweet voice, it was liquid honey to his ears, and played around his heart, holding, and pulling on it with every word.

"Yes, the need to find the Serum has been your end goal, the result, if you like." Dor banged her right hand onto the worktop, like a cleaver. "And to get to that point, you've tried many different ways." She swam the waggling fingers of her left hand across the desk till they touched.

"Yes, but that's science in general."

"That's life in general." Dor explained. "You tested what was available, then knowing what was required, you then developed improvements on the standard information, creating more and more alternatives."

Harrap sat back in his chair, and gazed into the corner of the laboratory where a small Duer Beetle awaited her partner; the father of the many microscopic and embryonic Duer beetles she carried on her back. He would also become her main source of food. Harrap was impressed with the female's level of patience. He wished he'd been able to take his time on some of his experimentations, which was one of the reasons he'd created so many alternatives, as he wanted to succeed. "I suppose I did."

"So don't let the anger of one Commander dictate your thoughts." Dor placed her hand on the back of his, the tingling sensation made him smile a little. "Use your vast experience and scientific mind to unlock a way of tracking her Kylapitar."

"Yes but how." He slapped the monitor with his hand. "Look at these humans; they have idiotic communication systems, which outside of the main conurbations are less than useless." The personal anger of his inability to find the device had started to rise once more, evident in his voice.

"I know, I know." She stroked the back of his hand, trying to calm him down. "If you can find a way of tracking this Eric boy, then you will be in her favour once more, but if you can get that information to K'Nash before Eklan finds out, then you might be able to get back onto his ship."

Harrap leant forward, staring at the keyboard hoping the letters would rearrange themselves to give him the right answer. He held his thumb and finger onto his nostrils and flapped them a few times as he breathed out. It helped calm him.

"What do you already know?"

"He's from Earth, and he has a Kylapitar."

Dor raised her eyebrows and looked annoyed. "Yes, but what else?"

Harrap huffed a few times while he thought. He didn't want to play this game, as it seemed childish, yet he knew it would help him. "He only arrived recently."

"Yes, OK then." She replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she resigned herself to not getting much information out of Harrap. "So, can we track new arrivals?"

"Yes, but only the ones who arrive on a ship."

"Not the ones who've arrived via a Kylapitar?"

He thought for a second. "We've already found out he's here, using whatever we have available, so..."

"So, what did they use, the sensors on K'Nash's ship, or long range?"

"Long range." Harrap slowly answered, "and the ones on here are limited."

"So, we need to get to the sensors on the main ship, and then we might be able to get a little closer."

Harrap leant forward and kissed Dor on the top of her head. "You'd make someone a wonderful companion, you know that don't you?" He got up and raced over to the door.

Dor smiled melancholically hoping she could be the lucky one.

"I'll be back in 5 minutes, get ready because I need you with me."

Phyllis.

The top of the setting sun peeked over the distant mountains as Eric glimpsed the edge of the city. It was probably only late afternoon, and Eric wondered if this was a winter sun, as it was setting so early. It checked back once last time before slipping behind the mountains for a full night of well-earned rest. Eric never saw any of this as he trudged up the lane past the first few houses on the outskirts of the city. Neither did he see the Sun creating a water-colour wash of purples, reds, oranges and yellows that ebbed and flowed over the darkening sky.

"Ooh, that looks very sore poppet." said a kind elderly voice "come with me and I'll straighten out those nasty looking cuts".

Eric had sort of heard the voice, but his mind was elsewhere. He was so tired the he couldn't resist as his arm was pulled gently to the right.

"Sit there while I get a cloth and some water and clean those nasty things up". Eric slumped onto the solid pine farmhouse kitchen chair that had been withdrawn from under the table, in the kitchen of a house he'd not really noticed he'd been gently guided into.

"Now, what's your name young man, I'm Phyllis by the way". A hand cupped his chin and raised Eric's head slowly. He looked up into the face of every grandmother he'd known. She had seen the world go by, and had the mixture of laughter and worry lines to show as trophies on what was at that moment, a concerned face. She had a pair of soft gentle eyes, filled with sorrow for him in that moment of despair, but the hope for everyone else that all grandmothers have. "Now this may sting a little sweetie".

Eric smiled, making his lip sting as it stretched, which actually made him smile more. The pain wasn't the problem, as the tiredness aestheticised everything. A warm, damp cloth was dabbed gently at the dried blood, clearing it away, soothing the pain. He could smell lavender, as any decent grandmother would have. "Ah, that looks a lot better, and at least you're smiling now," Phyllis said as she tended to his face, "what the devil happened to you, then?"

The whole story was told, nothing missing, from the very first bump into Tom, the Aliens, being killed, heaven, Ashton, the Eagle, his mugging, and the journey to find the Majestic Lion. He didn't care that it sounded like madness, he just wanted to tell someone, and this lady was so honest that he couldn't help himself.

"O my dear, you have had a rough few days", she softly giggled "but I have to disappoint you, as you're not in heaven."

"What!" exclaimed Eric, his eyes shooting wide open, the earlier feelings of tiredness whipped away.

"No, this is Ansolon," she said nonchalantly, dabbing the cloth on his forehead, "oh no, this, my dear, is the fifth planet in the Beta 6 galaxy." Phyllis was now only adding to Eric's astonishment. She leant towards him as if she was about to tell him a huge secret, "and I'd say it's actually the best planet." Eric just looked at her, still in a state of shock. Phyllis nodded at him, confirming her last statement, and then continued, "and I'd know, I've seen them all, over the years." She wandered back with the cloth to the sink, to rinse it through.

"Planet, Galaxy.... What!" Eric was totally flabbergasted. He dropped his head, as if he was checking the floorboards of her house. He shook his head slowly as he went over everything that had happened since Eklan ordered his death. "But what..." he was quietly questioning everything to himself.

"Oh my dear, you do say that a lot." Phyllis had returned with a freshly rinsed and wrung cloth.

"What?" Asked Eric, wondering what she was on about.

"That." She replied.

"What?" Eric was getting nowhere fast.

"What!" sighed Phyllis, "You do say what a lot."

"Eh?"

"Now that's cheating," Phyllis shook her head slowly, but with a smile on her face, "Eh is just a more common way of way of saying what."

It was Eric's turn to shake his head. He was quickly starting to comprehend that this wasn't heaven, and that Phyllis hadn't lied about being on a planet in another galaxy. Eric sighed as it suddenly started to ring true. He thought about the pain in his side from falling on the Kylapitar, and later from his broken rib and the cuts and bruises from the beating. There shouldn't be pain in heaven. He snorted a laugh and shrugged his shoulders realising that there wouldn't be Aliens and the Hawcon in heaven either.

"You look like you're from the second planet, Grular, it's the nose that gives it away" Phyllis tweaked the end of his nose, breaking Eric's thoughts.

"Wh..." he started, and then looked at Phyllis, who smiled at him, "Sorry, I do say that a lot don't I." He smiled back, thoroughly enjoying her simple, warming company. It was something he'd missed since the last of his grandparents had died years earlier.

"You'd better get on; the evening's just started to draw in." She brushed his hair back into place, "I do hate these short winter days. It never seems to get warm before the sun's setting for the day again." She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. "It's also a reasonable walk to the Majestic Lion from here, and I've got to get to work." Eric stood up and was ushered gently to the door, "Thank you." He said over his shoulder. He turned and stopped to make sure she understood that he wasn't just saying it. He wanted her to know that her kindness and company, even for such a brief time, had been very much appreciated.

"Oh it's nothing, at least you look human now, and not like some of those scruffy urchins I see." She looked him over, checking that she hadn't missed anything, brushing bits of dirt and dust off his top.

"Thank you again, I wish I had something to give you." Eric missed his grandparents, and wished that he could have given something back. He'd been too young to really understand everything when they'd died. As a child, you always expect everyone to be there forever. They all had their set places in your life, and grandparents were undoubtedly the best. They wrapped you in cotton wool, and treated you to all the nice things, constantly, and they never asked for anything in exchange, as you don't understand that they are already getting everything they could ask for in doing these things for you. Losing them had been his first taste of death. Realising that he couldn't walk through the door and see them in their chairs, always watching the same programs, being able to taste their home cooking, all this had been a huge shock when overnight it had just stopped.

He looked at Phyllis, and smiled, in some way it felt like he had been given that chance to say thank you.

"Don't be silly, it was a pleasure meeting you..."

"Eric" he added, realising that after relaying his entire tale to this complete stranger, he hadn't actually said his own name.

"Now go on Eric, and good luck in finding your friend."

## 

## Instruction Manual.

Major Ian Jackson and Captain Dave (Lanky) Lancaster were sat on cushioned faux leather chairs, either side of a fully dressed table for two in the window of the visitors canteen on the upper level of the Quarry base. It felt like a real restaurant, with the same views as the Colonel, overlooking Morecambe bay. The floor was deeply carpeted and paintings hung on the wall. Soft piano music played in the background, you chose off a menu, and served by professional waiters and waitresses.

The plush inside of the restaurant was a far cry from how it looked on the outside. The facility was housed within one of the grey portakabins located in the compound above the rim of the Nether Kellett quarry; the base for the MI9 Earth Defence Force. There was another canteen, located in the lower section, hidden under the camouflaged and virtually impenetrable roof. The lower one was frequented by the military and scientific staff working within the quarry base at that level. The upper level had a similar canteen that was used by the security, administration and management levels of staff that were usually based top-side. For the ranks higher than Captain, and for any special guests, there was the Bay Restaurant. This was used by dignitaries and high ranking military leaders from around the world to help show them their money wasn't being wasted on Earth's Extra-terrestrial defence.

Initially, it had been the UK government who had opened the secret doors to the Americans, but as the world was falling into recession, both parties realised that they needed greater financial strength than either had to help take the initial small findings a lot further. So, the G8 committee had been briefed by the Prime Minister, and they all very quickly agreed to the spend, on the basis that any scientific finds and research were equally split between the main 8 nations, and any subsequent technological developments then being passed between all the other 7 nations. The reality was that some of the technological advances would be delayed in their release, or tweaked to reduce their effect or abilities. It had become an accepted norm that the 8 would not be 100% truthful with each other.

Ian and Lanky would normally use the lower canteen, even though Ian was a Major. They preferred being nearer to their work, having led missions with the guys based down there. Today though, they'd been in a debriefing session with the Colonel, which ended with Ian staying behind at the Colonel's request. Lanky felt a little aggrieved that he still wasn't allowed into this inner sanctum of power, but managed to keep his emotions well hidden from his peers.

Ian ordered his meal, having quickly chosen a Lamb Henry with butter sautéed potatoes and seasonal vegetables. The waiter asked if they wanted wine, which always amused Ian, based upon the simple fact that they were a military camp, and needed to be on the top of their game. He'd noted the ironic smile on the waiter's lips when he'd asked about the wine choice, as Ian knew the waiter was a crack sniper, holding the distance and accuracy records for the French Foreign Legion. He'd been drafted in, along with a few of his counterparts, by the French government, as a means of them keeping an interest within the camp. So far only one of them had gone off world with the Major, and had acquitted himself with being there, spotting a Rexon troupe at 2000 metres, which no one else had detected. Thankfully, the Rexon hadn't seen the Major and his team, and they beamed back to Earth very quickly.

"What's the old man saying then?" Lanky asked his Major.

"Stick to the rules." Ian sighed.

"Stuff the rules."

"Captain, that's not the correct attitude."

Lanky burst out laughing, "That's not your attitude either, so what are we gonna do?"

"We are going to do the usual." Ian emphasised the first word, "I am going to see how the land lies."

"In what way?"

"The MI9 Global defence force rules state that one, we investigate with what we have, two, rigidly stick to local procedures and three, find a way forward." Ian counted out each of the points on his fingers.

"So we check out the arm we found, the gun Cock-up's looking at and hopefully find a clue with them?"

"Yep." Ian smiled as his starter arrived. A simple black pudding and bacon stack, smothered in a rich and creamy wholegrain mustard sauce.

"And when that doesn't work?" Lanky tucked into his potato skins, filled in with the scooped out and crushed innards mixed with roasted sweet peppers and pate, topped with cheddar cheese before a final grilling.

Ian smiled at his colleague devouring the food as if it was the last meal he'd be having for a week. "Let's see what the Doc and Cock-up find first. In fact, Cock-up's already finding out some interesting stuff about the gun, and the fact that it isn't one.

"Ooh, sounds interesting." Lanky dabbed mockingly at the sides of his mouth with his napkin, after his animalistic devouring of the starter. "And what do the Jacko-set-of-rules say?"

Ian thought for a second. "The Doc, Cock-up, and I are going to take a trip down memory lane."

## 

## The Big City.

Arriving at the main gates to the planet Ansolon's capital city, Killnjar, had been a little more of a revelation than Eric had expected. Having been to Chester and York with his parents, walking the walls of those former Roman strongholds on Earth, he never imagined there was anywhere such as this. He stopped to admire the skill used to construct such an impressive sight.. They scaled over 30 metres high and 5 metres thick. He wondered how a tank would fare against this formidable barrier, and visualised one firing against the wall, the shell ricocheting back into the tank, with the comical result of it toppling over onto its turret. This made him smile as he took the last few steps up to the gates.

These too would have stood firm against vast armies, being heavily set into a vast tunnel. He ran a hand over the deeply polished half a metre thick wooden doors. Specially selected from the toughest, most unyielding trees, they'd endured many years of battering wind and arrowed rain, before being carefully crafted into these vast doors. Eric walked past, admiring the intricate handiwork of the skilled carpenters who had created these beasts. It struck him suddenly that he was walking through a set from the Lord of the Rings. He imagined it was like he was heading through the Gates of Helm's Deep, so solid and thick they were, set into a magnificent barricade of stone. He wondered if anyone else would see their beauty as they dashed back and forth, never taking the time to enjoy the splendour that was laid bare around them.

After breaching the ancient entrance, the city within was relatively new. He had expected to see medieval houses, constructed by hand, with thatched roofs. There should have been narrow cobbled streets of terraced houses, as in York's Shambles, not the mass of glass and metal that made him realise that this was a real city, with wealth and prosperity on its mind, more than history and community.

Eric noticed his tattered clothes and scarred face became less of an interest to passers-by the further into the city he walked, and wondered why people acted this way. Outside of the walls, he'd had his wounds tended to by a kind lady, yet as he walked into the city the looks changed to ones of disgust. As he walked through the city's streets, he felt more like he was in his home city of Preston, where he was jostled and bumped without a single "sorry" being muttered. The city was where you felt so alone in the midst a crowd.

His eye level was connected to how far he'd travelled into the city. Upon arrival, he'd noticed the splendour of the gates, yet now, as he trudged further and further into the depths, he found his head dropped further and further to the floor. After only 10 minutes he looked at a point a couple of metres ahead on the pavement.

The city became more claustrophobic, the further in he travelled. The buildings grew ever higher, closing in on both sides, depressingly reducing the amount of natural light. He wondered if some of these roads actually saw any natural light, as nothing grew along the roads, no trees, no grass, only the odd weed, grasping for any kind of existence. As each road passed his heart sank a little more. Had Ashton got it wrong? He knew he'd been walking for at least 15 minutes since the city wall. OK, he'd admittedly slowed down a little, longingly glancing at a small café set into the ground floor of a monster skyscraper. The smell of fresh cakes wafting under his nose, taunted his hunger. His mouth watered so much he had to wipe it with the back of his hand. He'd eaten all that he'd been given by the Hawcon by lunchtime, and felt like he was starving. He didn't care what it looked like, or how it might taste, he just wanted food.

His mum's voice came to him, complaining she was constantly shopping, as he ate everything in the house. The problem was simple. He had no money and thus no way of getting any food. He had to find Arran Vorlet. His hunger for answers to all that had happened over the past few days that now kept him going, as by doing so, he might also find some food.

He sighed as his feet skidded off another kerb, his fatigue causing him to lose his usual perfect coordination. He knew that he could run at speed through his home City on a busy Saturday afternoon and dart past everyone, never touching a single person, dodging and weaving through the throng. He loved to play this game, as he knew it would be useful on the rugby field, and whilst playing dodge ball.

Alas, at this moment, he was struggling to walk through the melee of workers heading home. He steadied himself, but was nudged, making him stumble slightly to one side. "Sorry", he turned and called out to no one in particular. Eric tottered sideways as a lumbering office worker in a long dark overcoat barged into him as if he wasn't there. He lost his footing completely and fell to the ground. "Sorry" said Eric to the stranger, who didn't even break his stride, never noticing the young boy he'd just charged through.

Eric sat in the middle of the pavement, a small obstacle easily ignored and avoided as the world carried on around him. He felt like a pebble against the out-going tide. The expressionless faces continued to walk past, heads tilted down, nobody ever looking at him.

Cherokee.

"Dor, this way." Harrap popped his head around the edge of the door and beckoned her.

"Where are we going?" she asked excitedly.

"It's a surprise."

Dor stopped. "We're not going to get into trouble are we?"

"Probably not, but that's the fun part." Harrap could see look of concern in her eyes. "We'll just say we're visiting old friends while some experiments run, and will work through the night to finish them off." He looked to see any change in her expression, but was greeted with more apprehension. "It will be OK." Harrap added before leading her by the hand through the short airlock that took them off Eklan's ship and onto the neighbouring Supreme Commander K'nash's Battle cruiser.

Dor half smiled, taking the closeness as a sign of affection, but had mixed feelings that Harrap had an alibi already concocted. Was it just some skill he'd learnt while working with the commanders like Eklan, always needing a back-up plan ready to hide the truth, or was this a new trait to his character that she was now only beginning to see.

Harrap gave Dor a guided tour of K'nash's ship, recounting interesting stories as they made their way on a somewhat haphazard route. Dor assumed it was because he wanted to show off his knowledge of the great Battle Cruiser. She had been brought onto Eklan's ship 2 years earlier, having served at the Scientific Research Institute on Rexon for 7 years before working under another commander out at the far reaches of Rexon territory. She'd wanted to go higher, and saw Eklan as one who was making a lot of noise, not realising the threats behind that noise until a day after she'd arrived.

Harrap had arrived only 3 months previous, after a single mistake saw Eklan remove her top three scientists in a fit of anger. Harrap was 8th in line on K'nash's ship, and was suddenly pushed up to 3rd on Eklan's. Something he actually didn't really want.

"We're here." Harrap glanced up and down the corridors.

They were standing outside an innocuous room, numbered H152. The Battle Cruiser was split into 16 floors, containing many rooms of varying heights and dimensions. These ranged from floors dedicated to space docks and vast cargo bays to the floors above containing hundreds of sleeping quarters, floors full of scientific laboratories, communication rooms, and small rooms containing power manifolds, through which the ship's power flowed to keep everything running.

"This is a power room?" Dor asked, a little concern in her voice.

"Yes." Harrap smiled, and then opened the door.

As the door slid open it revealed a larger room than expected. Along three sides were pieces of monitoring equipment, screens full of scrolling data and pictures of every corridor in the ship lined the walls. Sat in the far corner was a very large Rexon. He had one hand rattling away on the keyboard, while the other was burrowing away into a large bag of snacks, dragging huge handfuls out every few seconds. Dor wondered if the two arms were independent, one working the fueling system, shoveling vast amounts of energy in; the other feverously worked it all off in a blur of fingers over a keyboard.

"Vade, this is Dor." Harrap called over to the hunched hulk.

"Hi Dor." Vade replied through a mouthful of snacks, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Dor smiled, even though Vade wouldn't see it.

"Vade is a genius in hacking and systems." Harrap guided Dor over to a chair.

"Quite true." Vade sniggered, spraying bits of biscuits over the worktop, which he wiped off with his feeding arm, leaving a trail of crumbs in its wake.

"He's actually working for Prant, locked away in here, right under everyone's noses."

"OK." Dor was a little concerned that they were going behind not just Eklan's back, but K'Nash's back as well.

Harrap could see the concern. "It's OK, Gorath himself pays for this enterprise, over K'Nash's head, so in that respect, K'nash would be OK with using someone else's resources."

Dor nodded slowly, still not convinced.

"Vade, show us what you've found." Harrap asked.

"Ok." There was a moment's pause while he stuffed the last handful of food in, brushed the crumbs onto his trousers and then used both hands to finish off some typing. "Done. Right." He spun his chair round and faced Dor.

Dor tried to control her instinct to move away. She was facing the largest, scruffiest, smelliest and dirtiest Rexon she'd ever seen. She'd heard of some of her race who had been left on distant moons to fend for themselves after battles with humans. They'd had to resort to eating each other, finding very little indigenous food to keep them alive. This was how she thought they'd look, only a lot thinner.

"Sorry, I've not had chance to get a wash for a..." He paused to think as he brushed off week old crumbs off his clothes.

Dor finished his sentence in her head, "..year."

"Anyway." Vade waved it away, flinging crumbs over everything within the room as he continued. "My old friend Harrap here wanted to know where this lost Human was, on a planet full of Humans, which is virtually impossible." He let a smile appear. "So, I searched for Earth physiology within the confines of the planet using this program." He half turned and tapped a couple of keys, and then pointed to a screen next to Dor.

Vade came over and leant on her chair.

The stench hit Dor first and she swallowed hard, trying to breathe through her mouth as her guess of it being a year since he'd last washed was completely inaccurate. She could easily believe that it had been a decade since he last saw water and soap.

"As you know, all human blood is basically the same, red cells, white cells, this then breaks down to the red cells have the hemoglobin carrying the oxygen, the white ones fight pathogens, and there's also platelets that help it clot when leaking, etc, etc. You'll know all of this and a whole lot more about it than me." He turned and half smiled at Dor, making her cringe. "So we've found on Earth that the humans basically have only 4 main Blood types, A, B, AB, and O, and all of those can have a Rhesus antigen that makes it positive or negative when it's absent."

"Yes, there are 8 main groups on Earth." Harrap was impressed by Vade's knowledge of human blood.

"Well, your research, and those before you, found that across all the worlds there are slight variations on the proteins and antigens on the blood groups, and you've actually found over 30 different main blood groups, and I've managed to program those types into the sensors on the ship and this program looks for those certain types of blood."

"That's fantastic." Harrap beamed, looking at the information on the screen.

"It's only been possible because of your research mate, I'm just tagging along in the background." Vade slapped Harrap's shoulder.

Dor made a mental note to not touch that shoulder until everything had been scrubbed clean.

"Unfortunately, the system can tell you the blood is present on the planet, but surprisingly, I can't narrow down that information to a location." He shrugged away the minor problem. "One for another day to investigate."

Dor had also been impressed, and it had helped her overcome the stench, but as the optimism drained away, the stench returned, making her retch.

"Then Harrap told me the boy had a Kylapitar." Vade wagged a finger at Harrap. "If you'd have told me that first, I could have got a result sooner."

Dor wished that Vade had told them all sooner, to save the time she was spending in the confined space of the airtight cell.

"I thought you could find him just because he was from Earth." Harrap pulled a face.

"Anyway, this also proved difficult." Vade leant in closer to Dor.

Dor tried to pull further away from the smell that was almost visible, like a thick cloud of sticky rancid and rotting food slowly pouring out of this Rexon and onto everything in the small room.

"A Kylapitar has a unique signature, something I found out for Prant, and so we can find every one of them." He returned to his keyboard for a second, tapped some more keys before pointing to the large screen higher up above Harrap. "But only if they're active."

"Oh, why's that?" Harrap asked.

"Each Kylapitar has a small battery, and it's charged from the tiny electrical charge each of us gives out, so if they're being handled, they will charge up, if not they go into sleep mode."

"OK, so he's not touched it for a while."

"Maybe." Vade held a finger aloft.

"Maybe?"

"It's either that or, if the unit is being used, it stays active, but if it's not opened, or if none of the buttons are pressed, it shuts down into sleep mode."

"Oh." Harrap's hopes slumped.

"The system can only track the ones that are turned on, and if boy hasn't used or touched the buttons. then we won't know where it is."

"So, another dead end." Dor replied, wishing her time in his presence would end soon.

"That's what I initially thought." Vade smiled.

"And..." Harrap elongated the word, wanting Vade to continue.

Vade chuckled. "I was using their communication systems to help track the Kylapitar at a very local level, and as you know, these people don't use the mobile telecommunication systems some Humans have on other planet, like Earth."

"We were only discussing that before."

"Well, these Ansolonians have such a primitive system, based off buried cables and only a limited mobile ability in the cities."

"Yes." Dor wanted him to get to the point.

"And suddenly, he appeared."

"What?" Harrap was excited. "How?"

"One question at a time, my dear friend." Vade winked at Dor.

Her stomach rolled over, making her lunch want to reappear.

"I presume he must have touched it, which took it from sleep and into standby, and he'd done that within range of a communication mast."

"Excellent, so where?"

"He's currently in the area near or in Killnjar."

"Where?" Harrap couldn't remember the names the humans gave to their cities, as he'd heard so many.

"Harrap, these systems are primitive, and it's difficult to hook into them to pin point the actual location."

"But you can do it though?"

Vade smiled a little more. "The northern segment of their prime city."

"Excellent." Dor stood up. "Thank you." And headed to the door.

"Oh, alright, yes, thank you Vade." Harrap slowly rose, wondering why the sudden rush. "I'll bring you some more Kraken Biscuits next time we're near Moneat."

"Excellent, and call round anytime, you're always welcome, especially if you bring a lovely lady like Dor." He waggled a set of stubby fingers in the air to her as she backed out of the room very quickly.

Dor stepped into the corridor, grateful for the cool and clean conditioned air that was being blow around. She took some deep breaths, having been holding hers for the last minute or so.

"Are you OK?" Harrap asked.

After a few seconds she regained her composure. "He's an acquired taste, isn't he."

Harrap laughed as they walked back to Eklan's ship.

Aisha.

Eric sat on the pavement with the funny feeling he was being looked at. Lifting his head up, he saw a young lady heading directly towards him. She wasn't like the others racing past in their dark, drab colours. She was bright and cheerful, and the biggest difference wasn't that she actually looked straight at him, it was her smile. Eric's face responded in the same way, his mouth curved upwards at the ends, and he felt good. Maybe there were some nice people here, he thought.

"Are you OK ?" asked the young lady.

Eric stared into her beautiful ocean blue eyes, not listening to her at all..

"Hi, would you like some help?" her eyes smiled at him even more.

Eric noticed the outstretched hand, took hold, and felt how soft her skin was. "Thank you." He stared at her egg shaped face, a slightly pointy chin, her rounded cheeks, and he finally stopped once more at her beautiful oval eyes. Tiny wrinkles accentuated the shape, bracketing the beauty within. He realised suddenly that he hadn't said anything for a few seconds as he'd continued to stare, and a flush rose to his cheeks.

The young lady looked at him in a strange way.

Eric cleared his throat, "Sorry, got a frog in there." His hand came up and covered his mouth, but the smile behind it was evident as he tried to sort out his increasingly embarrassment. "Anyway, erm Hi," Eric started, but became lost in her eyes once more. "I'm invisible." He continued, not realising what he was saying. "I thought the way people were barging into me just then that I was Eric." He said dreamily, through his now fixed and inane grin.

"Hi, Invisible, I'm Aisha" she giggled.

"Hi Aisha, I'm here in Killnjar." He finally let go of her hand, but kept smiling.

"I would think you are here." She replied. "Have you bumped your head when you fell, as you're not quite making sense?" Aisha enquired, a wry smile on her face as she watched this scruffy, yet handsome teenager grin at her stupidly.

Eric listened to every sound, every syllable, it was sweet music to his ears, compared to the drumming of feet on the asphalt and the mumbling of voices too distant in their own minds to be heard by all those bustling past them.

"I presume you're really called Eric, which I have to admit is a very unusual name." Aisha questioned, her head tilting slightly.

"Erm, yes, why what did I say?" His grin vanished instantly, as he knew he'd just made a complete Plant-pot of himself, and didn't even know what he'd done.

"You said that your name was Invisible." Aisha kept a straight face for a second, watching the anguish appear, but couldn't hold it back for too long and she started to giggle, before Eric saw how funny it was and joined in.

"Sorry," he said, after they'd composed themselves, "I thought I was invisible for a second, as no-one noticed me, I got bumped, fell over, and then you came walking up, and I, erm," quickly thinking that maybe it wasn't a good thing to be too honest, "erm, and yes, I must have been more hurt than I thought." He paused to quickly get everything in his head in order. "You see, I got mugged earlier today" Eric added quickly, trying to deflect the subject away from him being smitten with this young girl.

"Oh my, where was this?" Aisha was shocked, and then understood why he looked as unkempt as he did. "Did you see who mugged you?" She was quite upset and angry at what had happened to him, and wondered suddenly why she was, as she had only just met this young man only moments before.

"It would have been about 6 kilometres to the west of the city gates." He checked the calculations over in his mind. "It was in a gorge in the middle of a great forest. And no, I didn't see, but they took my wallet, trainers, and even my hankie."

"Oh dear, that's terrible." Replied Aisha, wishing she could have helped him. "Unfortunately, that's an infamous Gorge, there are quite a lot of strangers to this area who get mugged along that path." She could tell by his facial features that he wasn't from anywhere near Killnjar, and as she'd met quite a few others, even ones from the other planets, wondered where he was from.

"I'll know next time." Eric smiled.

"You look famished," Aisha decided to change the subject, and knew that helping him might aid in curing her curiosity. "When did you last eat?"

"It was sometime this morning, whilst still in the forest. The..." Eric suddenly stopped himself, as the idea of little people with wings seemed a little weird. She was already giving him strange looks.

"Are you OK?" Aisha asked.

"Better to keep your mouth shut and let people think you're a fool, than to open it and remove all doubt." Eric replied.

"Where did you hear that?"

"My dad, he used to say that all the time."

"Huh! My Grandad used to say something similar when he took me to the.." She stopped herself. "Market, yes."

It was Eric's turn to look at her curiously.

"Well, I have a few coins, enough for some fruit and a drink," Aisha redirected the attention away from her near mistake and dug around in her bag. She brought out a handful of gold coins, similar to the one that Mr.Poonk had given him, only these were new and shiny. She scouted the local shops, "Let's get something from here" pointing to a small shop with an array of various fruits and vegetables on display outside.

Everything looked delicious, even from the other side of the still very busy street.

"Come on, we'll get a couple of apples and some milk" and with that Aisha dragged a willing yet weak Eric across the road, as he seemed helpless to resist her infectious charm and enthusiasm.

Doctors Orders

"Enter Honey." The lyrical voice sang out, only muffled slightly by the door.

Ian strode into the makeshift surgery in the upper level of the MI9 camp at Nether Kellet. Along the right hand side was a bed, sitting up patiently, awaiting its next recipient. A roll of paper wipes had been laid across the top to help keep the spread of infection to a minimum. Next to it was a tall thin trolley, a series of monitors and wires draped all over it. He assumed it would take a few moments to untangle the spaghetti of wires and tubes whilst trying to find what was connected to what. The monitors were the standard heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, and he even suspected an ECG monitor tucked away on one of the lower shelves.

Charts covered the walls, depicting the skeleton and muscle groups, the front and back of an atypical humanoid, devoid of any sexuality. Adjacent to those were more intimate ones, showing male and female reproductive organs on highly coloured and glossy posters. He wondered how many times those had been required, and then realised that the camp housed around 200 young , healthy and sometimes very stressed young men and women – so times of rest and relaxation could result in the odd indiscretion.

The window side had a desk jutting out into the room, with two vacant, simple, plastic chairs on one side and doctor Heather Gaines in a plush leather-faced office chair on the other. She smoothed her skirt and stood up to greet Ian.

"Hi Ian, sexual problem again or work?" a cheeky glint flashed across her large hazel eyes.

Ian smiled back at the very alluring lady walking over to him with her hand out. She flicked her long auburn hair from her shoulder, and her fringe off her face in one fluid movement, reminiscent of hairspray adverts from 20 years earlier. She had a curvaceous figure, exercising regularly, having taken up mountain biking in the Lake District as a hobby on her off days. She mainly wore a blouse and figure hugging skirt combination, business-like, yet with a very definite sexy, feminine side. She exuded confidence in everything she did, and could put anyone at ease with a smile or a quip, her easy bedside manner being a reason she was highly regarded as an aide to a facility that dealt with potential serious injuries and extreme stressful situations.

She also had a keen mind, deciphering alien medical equipment with consummate ease, making her a prize asset. She was a Captain by rank, but this was only for administrative purposes, and as such didn't have the same positional placement in the team at Nether Kellett.

"Work, unfortunately." Ian shook her hand, feeling how soft her skin was.

"Take a seat, handsome." Her dusky tones soothing away any worries.

Ian welcomed the change in pace in her surgery, having gone from the frenetic dashing around of battling aliens to the more relaxed atmosphere in her domain. "So, have you found anything out?"

"About the arm?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Yes, surprisingly."

"Ooh, I'm intrigued by the use of that word."

"Well, you did only bring me an arm," She rolled her head to one side, raising her eyebrows "Whereas a whole Rexon would have been much nicer, and one that was alive even better."

"Sorry."

"Not to worry." She slid open a filing cabinet drawer and flicked through a few files before pulling one out. "the info is on the system, in the main, but I've also created a paper copy, here." She slid a plastic sleeved report across the table. "Standard, simple stuff for the first few pages, Rexon, severed right arm, no discernible scars, apart from the missing body." She flashed her smile again. "The key points are on page 3 onwards."

Ian flicked the page over, skimming the information quickly, his eyes widening as the points reached his brain.

Heather had been watching him. "Yes, cauterised, this was quite lucky really."

"Lucky?"

"Well, lucky for us Hun."

Ian screwed his face a little.

"It kept it as a relatively fully functioning arm." She replied to his unspoken question,

"but what about cellular degradation?"

"There would have been a little, but nowhere near as much as you'd think." She was impressed with his line of questioning. "It seems their blood doesn't need to be re-oxygenated as much as ours, therefore a severed limb can last quite a while." She nodded in agreement to her own theory. "Quite handy in a battle."

Ian looked questioningly at her once more.

"Let me explain my theory a little more." She leant forward resting her elbows on the desk and steepling her fingers under her chin. "In the heat of a battle you lose bits and pieces, you've probably been to many conflicts where you'll have seen quite a few patched up soldiers with missing limbs."

"Too many really." Ian never liked that part of his work, and was one of the reasons he decided to join MI9, as the idea of travelling and meeting new people from other Worlds was a far cry from the dusty streets of a town he was helping to keep safe.

"I agree." Heather's heart also sank a little at the thought of the ones she'd helped. Heather was a very good field surgeon, and had been to quite a few war zones, resolving anything from small blisters to IED removed limbs. She could remember them all, and knew each of their names, having made sure she gave them as much care and attention as she could before they got shipped home. "Imagine if you could go back to the battle field, hours, even days later and pick up the missing pieces, knowing that you could simply sow them back on to the patient."

Ian thought about the concept, realising the simple convenience and huge impact that would have to the morale of the patient. "So that's a normal Rexon trait?"

"I don't think so." Heather turned her computer screen round so that it was visible to both of them. She clicked on an icon and a chart opened up with a scrolling picture below it.

"DNA?" Ian questioned.

"Well done, you are good you know Hun."

"I'm told I'm the best." Ian quickly replied with his flirtatious charm.

"Ooh, we might have to see about an experiment sometime." She winked at him, making him blush slightly.

"So what's that showing?" He asked, trying to deflect the conversation away from the flirting.

"That's their sequence, or the main parts down to the lowest level of the groups of characteristics, traits, abilities, etc." She drew rough circles with her finger around clusters of coloured code as it spiralled across her screen. "Yet these are different." Heather tapped and then pinched her fingers together on her screen. The DNA sequence zoomed in and stopped scrolling. "These highlighted codes are not Rexon."

Ian thought about it for a second. "What does that mean?"

"This sequence is for blood flow and oxygenation, and they've been enhanced."

"Enhanced, are you saying they're genetically modified?"

"Yes, but don't sound too surprised. We're trying to do some basic genetic modifications at the moment."

"We are?"

"Yes, there are scientists in the UK that are trying to decipher which codes to change that will lead to dementia, and Parkinsons, even cancer."

"But couldn't that be abused?"

"You've watched too much science fiction Hun." She placed her hand on his. "It's all regulated by the government."

"Yes but if we're doing it, then who's to say other countries aren't doing the same, but they might be making their people stronger, faster, with quicker reflexes."

"We're a long way off that scenario. We can only just about locate the DNA code, we're nowhere near to altering it."

"OK, but what does this mean about the Rexon?" Ian asked, knowing he couldn't save the world.

"That they've been modified, but it seems that there is a pay-off."

"In what way?"

"There is a degradation of the DNA code, which is something I've not come across."

"Well, you keep on with it Doc and I'll keep on with looking for Eric & Tom."

### 

### Familiarity

Eric knew he had to meet Arran at the Majestic Lion pub, but that could wait for a few minutes. Even though it was going dark, it was still only late afternoon, too early for anyone to go to the pub. So I have some spare time to spend getting something to eat first, with Aisha, he mused. This made him smile as he danced over the kerb at the far side of the road.

Aisha reached to the very back of a bulging pile of apples that were on the top of the display stand. She grabbed a huge red and green waxy one, which looked like a grapefruit sized Braeburn, passing it to an astonished Eric. The storekeeper, Mr.Kebblewell, appeared at the door as Aisha reached for a second monster apple. She carefully used one arm to hold back her coat that was swinging devilishly close to the array of fruit at the front of the stall, and reached for the fruit with the other. The shopkeeper stood defiantly in the doorway; his frowned expression a clear sign of caution to any would-be thieves. In fact the look alone was enough to worry Eric, who was transfixed by his glare. He never even considered Mr.Kebblewell's bulging hairy biceps that were entwined across his chest, stretching his shirtsleeves to their limit.

Aisha was up on her tiptoes trying to make a last desperate lunge at the biggest apple Eric had ever seen. He was amazed, as it was the size of a small volleyball. Its waxy skin glistened as the street lamps started to light up overhead. Eric was also quite surprised that Aisha could balance so well, and wondered if she'd had ballet lessons to be able to stand on the points of her toes with such poise.

Unfortunately for Aisha, this was an apple too far. She raised one foot off the floor to try to reach it, making her lose her previously perfect balance momentarily. Aisha was pleased with herself as she quickly regained her footing, snatched her goal and spun round with a triumphant "Ta-Da", proudly holding her prize. She turned around to show Eric and was disappointed to see he was not there. Aisha was about to think her first bad thought about such a nice young boy when she noticed there was a lot of movement around her feet. Looking down, there was Eric, forlornly trying to herd a whole assortment of escaping and rolling fruit back towards the safety of the shop.

The shopkeeper snorted his disgust, bull-like and started to march from the door, along the passage between the stalls, to give him a better view.

"Ooh, sorry sir" Aisha apologised, looking up at what had created a huge shadow over them, as Mr.Kebblewell's mammoth frame blotted out the light. "I didn't realise that I'd knocked them over" She smiled apologetically. "We'll pick them up now and then pay for any damaged ones, sorry."

With that she also ducked down to help Eric.

This was also to get away from the low growling noise that now was being emitted from the shopkeeper, as he glared at them and ran his tongue over his teeth, as if he was an ogre cleaning them before he started on a feast of insolent child. He carefully monitored their progress of containing the spillage, and placing them back on the stall, watching to see that none mysteriously disappeared.

Eric was picking up the last one when he saw something very familiar directly behind the shopkeeper. It was something he was quite amazed to see, here in the city. He stopped what he was doing and moved his head to one side to see past Mr.Kebblewell's vast trunk-like legs and saw another young boy carefully stuffing every pocket of his coat and trousers with as much produce as he could, whilst keeping a close watch on the back of the shopkeeper. He looked to be a little smaller than Eric, and quite thin and wiry.

Eric looked him up and then back down to the most unusual and irregular part of him.

The distraction that Eric & Aisha had made was too tempting for the young thief, and he took the opportunity to put a healthy slant on his usual diet of Café table leftovers or kitchen bin throw-outs from the multitude of eateries around the city. He stuffed as much as he could, into every last place he had, including all the special pockets he'd personally sown into the inside of his tattered coat. As hard as it was to imagine, he actually looked scruffier than Eric, apart from one part of his apparel.

Eric was dumbstruck, as right in front of him were his trainers, the very ones his mum had bought him not 3 weeks previously, when his last pair had got too small. He forgot himself, leapt to his feet, then lunged at the thief.

Aisha wondered what was going on. She raised her head from her current chore and wondered why Eric was trying to attack this other boy.

The thief was unfortunately watching the shopkeeper too closely to notice Eric get up and leap at him. His reactions were still very quick, and he instinctively tried to get away. He realised that Eric had only managed to grab the scruff of his jacket, and threw his arms back as he made for the alley down the side of the shop. He knew that this would mean that his light-handed efforts had been in vain, as the jacket would be pulled off him, full of ill-gotten gains, but he'd be free to tackle another opportunity.

Aisha watched, dumbstruck, as Eric had grabbed hold of this boy. Then it dawned on her, as an apple fell from the now flailing jacket. It had only took a split second for it all to happen, but knowing that the boy was about to get away, she also joined in the hunt, and leapt up, past a bemused Mr.Kebblewell, and managed to entwine herself around the young thief's arm.

Eric saw the boy arch forward, and that his jacket was being pulled off his back, his freshly picked spoils now rolling from their hiding places. He tried to grab him with the other arm, then he saw Aisha cleanly snatch hold of him.

"Got you, you thief" shouted Eric at the urchin.

He proudly smiled at Aisha, knowing their deeds had been good.

"And got you" said the shopkeeper to Eric.

All three of them were suddenly tugged backwards. Eric felt an arm being clamped around his neck, but he knew he had to keep hold of the thief. Aisha's coat was grabbed firmly by the shopkeepers other vast hand.

"Officer, a little assistance please" growled the shopkeeper to a policeman across the road.

"I have here, three thieves that need some of your fine attention, until the judge can deal with them in the morning."

Eric clung to the real thief wearing his trainers, and wasn't going to let go. He knew it looked bad for him, but if he could explain it all to the judge the next day, then it would be resolved, and he'd get back everything that was his.

"Oh no" cried Eric, as he suddenly remembered something.

"What!" replied Aisha as she struggled with the shopkeepers vice like grip on her coat collar. Her feet lightly skipped on the floor, as she'd been hoisted aloft by their strong captor.

"The Majestic Lion, I have to go tonight." A look of horror on his face as he realised that he wouldn't be able to get to his destination. "Damn!" he swore.

"There's definitely no need for that sort of language," The extremely tall policeman replied. "And I'm very sorry young man, but there's only one place you'll be seeing tonight, and that's the inside of your very own cell." He proceeded to cuff all three of them together, forming one group.

"But it wasn't me" Eric pleaded, "he's the real thief, look, he has my trainers on." And he nodded his head towards the offending feet.

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry Sir. I can quite understand that young Skaler here is a thief," and he raised one eyebrow towards the urchin, then flashed a small smile across his lips, "as we know each other quite well, don't we sonny?"

Skaler nodded and smiled back. "Evening Officer Mauldy, how's that young 'en of yours doing?" Skaler asked quite nonchalantly, as if they'd just bumped into each other in the street.

"Oh, he's doing quite nicely now, thank you." He turned to the other two who stood in complete shock at this turn in the conversation, their mouths agape. "Formah, my little baby boy, has chicken pox." He leant closer to them to tell a little secret, "We thought he had the sarf, but didn't want to tell anyone about it." And he flashed his eyes knowingly at them.

"Oh that's terrible, your wife must have been distraught." Aisha now joined in, a concerned tone on her voice.

"It was for a while, miss, thank you," and the Officer sighed, "but the little mite's a strong one, like his dad and...." He didn't get chance to finish his sentence as he was rudely interrupted by a very loud scream.

"Arrrrrgggghhhhh!" screamed Eric. The outburst had been building up in him for a few days, and so far he'd kept it all bottled up. Alas, he couldn't let it stay there any longer, and this finally sent him over the edge. "I don't believe it." He looked around at this tidy little coffee morning group, discussing the welfare of a baby. "You're a copper who's just nicked us for thieving this man's fruit. He mugged me earlier today and stole my trainers, that he's now wearing, and you lot are now having this cosy discussion about a kid with chicken pox, what planet are you lot from?"

They all looked at him in shock.

"Ansolon?" Skaler said, both eyebrows were raised as he attempted to answer Eric.

"What?" Eric snapped at him, as he didn't understand the answer.

"You asked what planet we're from, and I think it's safe to say that we're all from Ansolon." He looked at the other two, who nodded their agreement.

"I don't think he's from Ansolon though" Aisha piped up, pointing at Eric with her nose, as her hands had been restrained. She then turned back to him, "Are you Eric?"

"Ah, that explains it," the officer continued, as if the great mystery of the century had just been solved. "I'd probably say it was either Persinon, or Croner, looking at his face." He turned to Aisha "they're quite temperamental on them, a little too close to the sun, makes them fiery inside, my mother used to say."

"No, I'm not from either of those, but that's not the point either." Eric sighed and then composed himself, getting his temper under control. "He's got my trainers on, that he stole from me earlier today." Eric nodded towards Skaler again.

The officer looked at Skaler, and then down to his shoes. "I have to admit that he does have an unusually new pair of trainers on, and that is quite a fashion statement for someone like him."

Skaler meekly smiled back.

"But it doesn't mean to say that they are yours, does it?"

"But – they - are" Eric slowly and firmly replied through gritted teeth, not wanting to lose it again.

"Alas, this doesn't solve your current crime. And I have to say that it's also funny how it looked to Mr.Kebblewell and myself, that you and the young lady had created a wonderful distraction of spilling the fruit, while your accomplice here filled his pockets with fresh goods." The policeman added sarcastically.

"Yes, I know it looks like that, but why would I grab him then?"

"I'm not bothered why you tried to make it look like you're the innocent one here. I can only assume that you'd seen me across the road carefully watching my dear friend Skaler, and thought that it would look better on you if you dropped your accomplice in it, and you two get away with it as heroes, very noble, I'm sure."

This wasn't helping Eric at all, as the policeman's reasoning was good.

"You would have got away with it too" the policeman continued, "as I've never seen you before, although I seem to think I know the young lady from somewhere." He eyed her curiously, trying to fit her face, shaking his head slowly as if he was reading through mug shots in his mind and canceling each page out as he passed them by.

"No, it was the shocked looked of what was going on by the young lady, that..." He stopped talking to rub chin. "Excuse me, miss, but has anyone ever mentioned that you look like...."

"Yes, I know who you're going to say, but no I'm not her" Aisha quickly interjected.

"Alas, this isn't sorting out Mr.Kebblewell's theft problem, and as it's not up to me to decide," The Officer gave a cursory nod to Mr.Kebblewell, "The Judge can have that honour tomorrow morning."

With that he finished banding the trio together and turned to Mr.Kebblewell.

"There's no honour among thieves, is there Sir?"

"Nope, none at all" added the shopkeeper in his gruff tones. "I'll make everything secure here for the evening," he continued, "then I'll be down the station to make my statement, if that's OK with you"

"No problem at all with that Mr.Kebblewell, it will probably take a good hour processing these anyway."

Friends & Enemies

"Excellent work." K'nash felt quite smug. "And she doesn't know about any of this?"

"No sire, nothing at all." Harrap whispered into his monitor.

"Ha." K'nash laughed. "I knew it was a good thing putting you on that ship."

"Yes Sire, thank you, but.."

"Oh you don't have to thank me Harrap." K'nash cut him off mid-sentence. "You're doing some excellent work."

"Yes." Harrap felt frustrated at not having the inner strength to ask the question he wanted to.

"Continue this good work and I might want you back." K'nash laughed some more, knowing he was destroying the scientists will. "In fact, don't do too good a job or the Great Gorath will want to steal you to work for Prant on Scarx." K'nash cut the line as his laughter roared.

Harrap sat and allowed a small daydream to appear. He liked the idea of working for K'nash, as it would be better than working for Eklan, as he was less volatile. Yet, to work for Prant would be unthinkably brilliant, if the whispers of how he treated all members of his team were to be believed. The rumour he didn't believe was that Prant had soldiers over the age of 20. The only way to get that old in the Rexon army was to be extremely lucky in battle, made up into a commander, and thus stay away from the fighting, be part of the infamous 2nd Battalion that only go in as a mop up exercise, or to be a coward – but that usually was spotted and the soldier would be publicly executed as a show of defiance against anyone else who might want to do the same.

Harrap also liked the idea of being located on Scarx, the planet Prant used as a base, as it was as distant to any battles as anyone could imagine. There would be little chance of being in the front line, being on a ship that could be blown up by rebel humans, or being sent into battle when they'd started to run out of soldiers, which is another rumour he'd heard. No, Prant and the planet Scarx sounded perfect, and Harrap decided to work as hard as he could and hopefully get noticed.

What a day, thought Eric as he pressed his blackened fingers onto the paper, the swirled blobs marking his fingerprints there forever. As soon as they'd arrived at the police station, the Desk Sergeant looked up from his paperwork, saw the three of them being marched in and barked out his orders to the attending officers. Aisha had been whisked away suddenly, and Eric demanded to know where she was being taken. The desk sergeant pulled in a deep breath, making him look even bigger than Mr.Kebblewell, and in a clean crisp baritone explained that the lady in question was being hunted by higher powers, and with people like that, she had to be dealt with "differently".

What did that mean "differently". His imagination kicked into overdrive. Maybe they just have to treat males and females separately. Or maybe, the aliens have a deal whereby they take the first daughter of every household, and use them as slaves to help make more aliens. Don't be stupid, that's more like Moses meets Alien. He thought this idea whilst waiting for his turn in the photography room. Maybe she's a top criminal; he did say that she was being hunted by higher powers. The shock hit him, maybe she's a serial killer, and I was going to be her next victim. She was being nice to me, feeding me, getting on my good side, and then going to take me somewhere and slice me up. His name was suddenly called, which stopped his rampaging delusions for a moment as he walked over to the white wall with heights marked on it. She's too nice, it's probably that they have to treat girls differently.

His thoughts were still racing as he turned sideways, then forwards. The camera whirred and the flash blasted him with white light, and even though he knew that was probably the right answer, somewhere deep down he felt something more sinister was going on.

Outside in the corridor another officer waited. He hitched Eric to Skaler, who had been waiting patiently, and once more dragged them off down long grey corridors. Eric wasn't watching, as his mind was everywhere, drifting from one thought to another. He had so much to contend with, Tom, Aliens, Kylapitar, and now Aisha. His mind paused as he thought about her again. Eric hadn't noticed that they'd stopped a couple of times to pass through two sets of extremely heavy duty gates. He'd not seen the officers on duty guarding the entrances to the cells. Alas, Eric's thoughts were brought crashing back to reality by a huge clanging sound.

He blinked a couple of times as he realised that he'd been nudged into a two bed cell and the noise was the sound of the heavy cell door being slammed shut. The arresting officer slid open a small peep hole, "Well at least you're not alone, you've got your mate for company." And he smiled at them.

Eric whipped round searching the room for Aisha, and was disappointed to see his trainers again. They were lounging on the end of the scruffy thief's crossed legs. Eric looked him over and was amused to see that he had his hands behind his head, quietly enjoying the surroundings.

"I think I'll take those back now." Eric marched the few paces across the small cell and started to yank at his former footwear.

"Gerroff!" exclaimed the thief, and wrenched his feet out of Eric's grasp. "Now I definitely know where I've seen you before, and why you're after these." He slapped his open hand against his head. "So, that's what all the fuss was about, back outside old Mr.Muscle-swells fruit and veg shop." He nodded as he now understood. He had wondered if Eric was going to use insanity as a plea from the start, and up until now he'd been very impressed with his acting abilities. "Anyway, Thank God you're alive. We thought we'd done you some real damage when you passed out. That's why I took these," gesturing to Eric's trainers, "cus I thought you'd not be needing them anymore". He sat upright, "I'm Skaler, by the way, and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." He held out his hand, as if they were meeting for the first time at a very posh social gathering.

Eric stood in stunned silence. This thief had not only beat me up but he believed that he'd hit me so hard and so much that he thought he'd killed me. Then he stole everything, including my trainers. And now, just to top it off, he's acting as if we're to become the greatest of mates and be very civilized about it all.

He looked at the rogue on the bed. Skaler was now flattening his hair down by licking his hand and wiping it across his messy and ragged mop. He instantly shot the same moist hand back out again, still wanting Eric to shake it.

Eric couldn't believe that this youth had managed to beat him. He was probably a year younger, and a good 20 centimetres shorter, and must have been at least 20 kilo's lighter. No wonder he needed two mates and a log to whack me with first. He felt disgusted to be in his presence. This was someone he physically hated and yet, was still fascinated by at the same time.

"You have some nerve." Eric's chest heaved up and down as the anger swelled within him. "After all you've done to me; you have the audacity to attempt to shake my hand, as if this is all as nice as pie." His voice was rising in volume as his internal pressure gauge headed towards the Danger mark. "I'm here locked in a cell, for a crime I didn't even commit." screamed Eric, his eyes now blazing, "and it's all your flaming fault – Aaarrrgghhhhh!" He stormed over to his bed and slumped down, firmly crossing his arms over his chest, glowering across the room.

"Ok, if you don't want to shake my hand, then don't, I was only being polite". Skaler folded his hands back under his head as he lay back down. "Did that nice girl call you Eric or something?" He glanced across the cell and could feel the fiery hatred filling the room, slowly seeping across the gap between them, heating the air up.

No answer came back.

Skaler rolled his head back onto his hands and stared up at the ceiling. He waited a few seconds to see if Eric would crack, before he glanced across the cell at him out of the corner of his eye. "Wow, that's one mean look you've got there". He slipped his feet off the bed and faced Eric. "Let me have a go." With that, Skaler tried to imitate Eric's defiant hatred. "Right lets, fold the arms" and he looked back to compare, "No, tighter I'd say." And he pulled everything in. "Right, now comes the hard bit, the face." He lowered his head, and brought his brow as far forward as he could. "That's the eyes, now the mouth." He started to look sad, and then pulled it all hard down and the sadness finally turned into seething hatred and anger all rolled into one expression. "Thut's et" he mumbled through his contorted mouth. Then he burst out laughing, which made his ultimate frown explode apart. "Damn, you can't speak when you've got that face on, it makes you mumble too much."

"What – are – you - doing" growled Eric through his clenched teeth, his breathing even deeper as if he was trying to contain his anger. "And why are you so happy that you're in prison?"

"I was trying to copy your face, it's a killer". Skaler replied. He then decided to try the clenched teeth and broken speech method of communication. "And - yes, - I'm – happy - here, - because - it's – so - comfy."

"Right stop copying me before I explode and stride across there and knock your block off, then take back my trainers." Eric's breathing had become so deep that he was growling between breaths.

"OK", Skaler decided that by the look on Eric's face he'd be better drop the mimicry. He'd learnt at a very early age when to push someone further, and he'd also learnt – very painfully – when to let it go. "Look, let's make a truce, 'cus let's face it we're in here all night," his arms spread in a show of peace, "and if we don't get on, it's going to seem like ages before we get to that lovely hot breakfast they serve." Added Skaler and he licked his lips and rubbed his hand over his stomach. "In fact, if you're going to make it miserable in here, I might as well have stayed out in the cold, and eaten Muscle-swells fruit"

"What! You're actually happy you're in prison" said Eric incredulously.

"Yip. It's probably the best perk of being caught." A smile crept across his lips.

"A perk of being caught?" Eric was amazed that he was hearing this.

"Oh yeh. You can always guarantee a comfy bed, a warm cell and a full hot breakfast in the morning," Skaler recommended the establishment with great enthusiasm, "It's the best breakfast on Ansolon by a long shot."

"You've done this before?" Asked a completely stunned Eric. "How many times?"

Skaler's eyes rolled up and he stared at a point in the corner of the ceiling where a spider had made its home. Finally, after considering Eric's question, he stopped what he was thinking, "Too many to count, not that I can count too well anyway" sighed Skaler.

Eric noticed a little sadness had now appeared, and wondered what his story was. Eric had only had a bad couple of days, and he suddenly understood that Skaler had probably had a lifetime of this, for him to be in this position where he had to steal and mug to just exist.

Skaler removed the trainers "Sorry, I wouldn't have took them if I had thought you'd still be alive" and tossed them over to Eric's bed. "Can I have my old boots back please?"

"Cheers" replied Eric, as he slipped the tight boots off onto the end of his feet and flicked them over to Skaler.

"Nice one". Skaler said graciously as they put on their original footwear.

"So, let's start again", Skaler rose form his bed and walked over to Eric. "I'm Skaler, pleased to meet you, and sorry for the, erm..." he motioned towards the cuts, bruises, trainers. "Well, just about everything really, and I do mean it. Sorry".

Eric shook his head, and couldn't believe what he was about to do, but had to agree with the sentiment. It would be a long night if they fought, he had apologised. He knew he didn't need to make an enemy, as he knew that anyone could be an ally, and have their uses, even a thief. "All's well that ends well, as my mate Tom used to say", Eric took a deep breath before taking Skaler's hand and shaking it firmly. "Friends"

Inquisition.

"Stop manhandling me this way, I'm not a thief" pleaded Aisha, as she was dragged down long cold and grey corridors in the police station.

"No, you're worse than that, you're the daughter of a weak worm" the officer whispered in her ear. "You and your family deserve a lot worse than you're going to get, it's typical of your sort." Aisha could smell the foul breath of the officer. Wafts of warm air, full of the stench of rotten food and decay seeped into her nostrils and mouth. She gagged as she could taste every tiny morsel of a week's worth of cheaply cooked meals. The officer was only just taller than Aisha herself, but was very strong, as Aisha found out very quickly when she was pushed and pulled around several turns. She tried to break free more than once, but to no avail. The grip was too tight, and the arm too strong. Then, after what had seemed like 10 minutes of being marched through the station, she was bundled unceremoniously into an awaiting interview room.

A barren dark grey box with only one opening, the doorway she'd been hurled through. Assuming that the single, lonely and bare lamp that swung on its thin lifeline was set in the middle of the room, Aisha judged that it was about 5 metres square. The light swayed slightly, its luminescence oscillating a rough oval around most of the floor, never quite reaching into the dark corners. It always headed towards them, daring to see what hid in the shadows, but always ran away, keeping the fear in the mind, rather than in reality. A solitary table and chair stood below the lamp, their shadows dancing around in tune to the lamps metronomic swing.

The door slammed shut. Unfortunately for Aisha it was too quick. She turned and ran back at it, trying to make her escape. Banging her clenched fists on the door "Let me out of here, NOW!" she shouted at the cold and deaf metal surface. Her eyes welled up as she carried on beating an ever decreasing rhythm on the door, her voice growing softer as she realised that she was trapped.

"Why, Aisha, just tell me why." The voice she had dreaded to hear most echoed around the barren room. She stopped banging, and turned around slowly.

"Every few weeks, you escape, and I send out my most trusted people to find you." His voice was gentle, but filled with deep regret for his actions, and this time, she could actually hear a little anger in there as well. It was the last thing she wanted, as she didn't like him when he was angry, it scared her.

"I hate being caged up like that, I just have to be free from it all." She sadly replied to the figure walking out of the shadows.

"How do you think it looks to everyone around me?"

"I'm sorry", Aisha was suddenly thrown off guard.

"Sorry is not enough, it's never enough" the light swung towards him, lighting his face up momentarily. He was looking straight at her and she instantly dropped her gaze to the floor in shame. "And this time you've been caught with two thieves."

"No, that's where they've got it wrong...."

"Don't interrupt me." His gentle voice had taken on a stern note, the anger he was trying to control seeped through.

"Yes, I know, but Er......." pleaded Aisha.

"Stop" and he held up his hand. "Look, I don't care who they are, all I do care about is you, my only daughter, Princess Aisha." The anger had now gone completely from his voice, and she glanced up to see him walk fully into the light. She then knew why as his face was drawn and sad. "I only get angry as I'm your father, and I care."

"You're more a politician than a father." She snapped back.

"I am your father, but I'm also a politician, and I'm also the King of this planet."

Aisha looked straight at him "You may be called the King, but you have told me many times that politics is like playing chess," it was her turn to get angry with him, "and you are now no more than a pawn to those things you've invited onto our World."

"Those 'things' as you call them are the Rexon, and they are a race of beings far more superior to us." Argued King Harvin, "and they can share their wisdom with all of us, for the greater good of everyone in this galaxy, not just this planet." He sighed as he'd had the same conversation with many people, from maids to the Prime Minister. "They've already shown what they can do with the common cold, something that has blighted our finest physicians for thousands of years." He slowly walked around the table, "And now they want to trade a more powerful vaccine, to help cure the thousands who are dying from the Sarf. And all they ask from us is for fuel for their ships, simple ores that are found in abundance in the waste from our mining operations."

"They want us to be slave miners, and they'll give us some tit-bits of help. It will be just enough to help us, keep us happy, enough to keep us alive to do their bidding." Aisha turned back towards the door.

"You're young, and although you've got a strong head," his arms gently folded around, hugging her. "Which is just like your mothers, bless her stubborn soul, you don't yet understand the politics behind all this"

"Politics, politics, politics, that's all it ever is, you never have time for anything else these days."

"You don't mean that, Princess, you know I love you, because you're all I have now, since your mother died" He hugged her more tightly, kissed her on the back of her head, and sighed slightly as he rested his cheek against her.

There was a moment's silence that Harvin enjoyed. It was true, he missed spending time with his daughter, as she was starting to become a woman, and not his little girl anymore.

He squeezed a little tighter, as if he was trying to keep her as a child, and stop the evolution of her body into womanhood.

"It's just not fair on all of us." Aisha quietly mumbled.

"Who's all of us, dear?"

"All the people of this planet." She thought about it for a split second, turning her head slightly towards him, "Everyone in this galaxy. Why should we have to become slaves because they are all knowing father?"

"Because we need their help." He replied. "The Sarf is spreading far faster than our experts had predicted. It's killing more and more each day." He paused for a second and his eyes looked to the floor as the sadness of the planets loss hit him, as it did every time he thought about it. "We don't know how it started, or how it spreads, but we do know that the Rexon understand it, and can cure it. For now, that's all I can do to help protect our people."

"The people think you are a weak worm, the officer who threw me in here said so." And she flailed an arm towards the door.

"They will see, one day, that I have to make tough decisions to help the many that have a chance."

Sputnik

"Cock-up, are you playing again?" Major Ian Jackson called out to the stacks of electronics piled from floor to ceiling as he walked in room 1L8B. There was a faint smell of soldering flux hanging in the air, and the crackles and hisses coming from the other side of the hunched figure in the corner confirmed Ian's suspicions.

"Just a second boss." The sergeant didn't move as he continued his delicate soldering. He'd got a small rectangular patterned board covered in procesors and memory chips clamped in a multi-directional vice. A brightly illuminated magnifying glass, on the end of an arm that swung out of the wall had been positioned carefully so that the Sergeant could see clearly what he was doing.

As he waited, Ian looked around the room at all electronic equipment and gadgetry piled high on every surface, stacked into every slot available, and lying around the floor in large heaps. "Do you know where anything is in here?"

"Oh yes." Sergeant Charlie Cockburn swiveled round on his chair, eying his little room as he faced the Major. He removed his protective glasses, tossing them onto the work table next to him.

"OK but how long does it take to find it?" Ian picked up a few electronic cases, all different, all with various connectors and wires dangling out. Some were whole, some had sides missing, and they'd been carefully stacked on the chair, which meant they started to slip and slide in all directions once he'd dislodged their equilibrium.

"Whoa, stop!" Cock-up leapt up and dashed over, placing his hands on either side to stop the momentum of some items.

The room was one half of a smaller portakabin. At 3 metres wide and 5 metres long, Ian thought it would make a nice office, but with all the shelves and benches around the room, it felt cramped. In fact, Ian thought it was all about to fall in on him, and the feeling of claustrophobia closed in around him, which was a little disconcerting.

"So what is all this stuff?" Ian asked.

"That's our stuff that's been wrecked somehow; you know, field radios that have been shot, avionic boards from downed UAVs, there are even a couple of old hi-fi amps in there somewhere." Cock-up waved towards the far wall.

"Hi-fi amps?" Ian asked.

"Yes, some of the guys know I like tinkering with this sort of stuff, so they bring in their gear for me to fix, and sometimes I can't but the electronics come in handy." He shrugged. "This side is gear I'm fixing, and this side is the stuff we've found and I'm working out what it does." He pointed to a set of neatly built shelves, each one had a bar code on the front, some with more than one, and a single item placed at each location. It seemed so neat and organised compared to the remainder of the room. "And here is my workspace and the item I presume you're here to talk to me about." Ian half swiveled back to his desk and pointed to the transporter gun.

"Yes, have you found yet?."

"I know where Rexon is." He rolled his head from side to side. "Roughly."

"Wow, that's superb." Ian was impressed, but didn't know how this information could help him unless he suddenly could find a technological advance in Human spaceflight. A thought struck him though, "How rough is roughly?"

"Within a couple of miles." Cock-up screwed his face up as he considered the math.

Ian laughed at how accurate it was, considering the vastness of the universe, to be within a couple of miles. "Great, but how did you do that?"

"I ran a routine that checked the places you've been to through my Universe map, and then tied in the guns data which holds thousands of trips, and found a few matches. Once I'd done that it was easy to extrapolate the co-ordinates back to the source 0,0,0." He nodded.

"If you say it like that, yes easy." Ian agreed with mild friendly sarcasm. "So, where is it?"

Cock-up tapped a couple of times on his tablet computer. "We're here." Charlie had pulled up a chart showing our solar system. He then pinched his forefinger and thumb together. "And that's out Milky Way."

Ian nodded as he recognised the standard flat disk of stars.

Charlie pinched the screen again. "OK, that's the milky way there in the midst of our universe." He pointed to a tiny dot on the right of the screen.

"OK." Ian leant forward to see if he could make out any detail on the dot, which had now shrunk to the size of a pin-head. The screen was covered in hundreds of similar dots, each one depicting another Galaxy.

Cock-up pinched the screen again. And that's out universe, there." He pointed to another dot.

Ian was getting lost in how vast all of this was.

Cock-up pointed to a dot in the opposite corner of the screen. "And that's the universe where Rexon is."

"Oh." Was all Ian could say. He knew NASA was planning a trip to Mars, our nearest planet, and that would take 3 months of flight time to get there. The Voyager spacecraft had spent 30 years to get to the edge of the Milky Way. He didn't want to consider how many lifetimes he'd need to get to Rexon. "So we can't hop on the P2 bus and be there in an hour or so."

"Nope." Cock-up replied. "But by knowing all of this this, I could find something else out."

"Which was?"

"Tom was beamed to a ship that was in high orbit around Earth."

Ian's jaw dropped open.

Prison.

The gently driven limousine drew to a very quiet halt on the sandstone gravel at the rear of the palace. Although not as regal as some of the palaces within the galaxy, it was still quite a magnificent and stately home for a king and his only daughter. They stepped out of the black limousine, its smoked windows hiding its occupants from the prying eyes and flashguns of the always alert press. This vehicle was normally used by minor dignitaries and medium to top aides within the governments of the galaxy and palace. It was a small luxury the King had used on only two occasions before, and always for the same reason. The journey had been very short, as the police station was literally next door, but the ability to drive incognito from the station to the palace was one that was decidedly more apt than dragging his daughter out of there and along the street, and then sitting her down on a chair in front of the television and making her watch her shame all over again on the evening news.

The elderly driver curtly bowed before his King, as he'd done to the previous King, Harvin's father, as he held the door open, but looked up slightly to give a reassuring wink to the young Princess who followed with a look of humiliation on her face. Aisha gave a brief smile back at the driver, grateful for his support and understanding. He closed the door of the car and turned to watch Aisha skip up the stairs leading to the rear entrance of the palace, Like Father, like daughter, he thought to himself, as the memories of being in exactly the same situation a generation before came flooding back. She'll make a good Queen, one day, as good and honest as her father is, and her Grandfather before. He returned to the driver's side of the vehicle and climbed back behind the wheel, driving it carefully and skillfully back to the garage, where he decided that the remainder of the day would be spent valetting the vehicles there.

Aisha closed the huge solid oak door behind her, protected them from the world, and once again she felt that she was trapped within a prison. Her father rounded the end of the hall, 40 metres ahead, "Dad, wait". He didn't hear, or didn't want to hear, she thought, as he continued at a good pace. She dashed after him, racing round the corner at full speed, trying to catch him up, just to say sorry one more time, and to explain about Eric. Aisha looked up and was shocked to see that her father was now only 2 metres away, apologising for his tardiness to the assembled Rexon delegates and Ansolon Government Ministers.

Before anyone realised what had happened, Aisha smashed into the group, bowling over the Alien Commander K'nash, along with one of his aides, the Prime Minister, and finally, as the domino effect ended, the Minister for Foreign Affairs toppled over. Janosh Actflor, the Chief of Security was fastest to react, skipping out of the way of the falling Rexon leader, letting him crack the back of his head onto the floor. This brought a sly smile to the Chief's face, which he quickly disguised as shock. He looked down at the melee, which had taken on the appearance of a plate of worms, with limbs and bodies all wriggling for freedom.

Aisha was hoisted up by a Janosh "Oops Princess?" he said with a trace of irony. The Rexon aide was next to help himself up, who merely wanted to be up and off his leader. Aisha looked up and around at everyone, and her vision was caught by her father's blazing eyes. "I'm sor......." Her words were cut short as her father held up one finger, which she had known for many years as a gesture for her to stop right there, before she buried herself even more.

She'd made him mad at her before now, but that was more the infuriation of her being an only child, with no mother to help comfort her, only adding to his own personal anger that he directed at himself because he felt like a failure of a father, his duties as King keeping him away from giving Aisha all the love and time that she should have received.

No, this was much worse than any of those times, Aisha had never seen him so angry. Harvin and his Chief of Security helped up the others, and then turned to enter the lower dining room, which had been set out to hold a small conference.

Janosh had held open the door for everyone before turning to Aisha, "He'll calm down. This is a very stressful little subject that he is dealing with." he whispered to Aisha, and then he gave her a little wink and closed the doors.

"But I...." Aisha's words fell silently against the ornate carved doors. "I only wanted to say sorry." Her head slumped forwards, and it banged against the door, "Sorry", she whispered and cringed, as if that would make it any better. Aisha turned her head so that her cheek was now pressed against the door, feeling the cool wood. "Sorry Dad, I didn't mean to let you down, and I certainly don't mean to be an embarrassment to you." She turned her eyes to look at the door, willing her good intentions through it to her father.

Earwigging.

"I don't care about your disgrace of a Daughter, what I care about is if you have found the boy yet?" K'nash smashed his fist against the table as he instantly replied to Harvin's apologies.

"As I have said," Harvin replied calmly, "we are doing all we can." He rested his elbows on the table and opened his hand out, "It's very difficult when we don't have any substantial description from you."

Aisha could tell that this was a very heated discussion, and knew she shouldn't be listening but something made her very curious.

"Ah, but we do have some more information", K'nash added with a certain pleasure in his voice "We have learnt that he is 14 of your years in age, about 1.7 of your metres tall, with dark hair." K'nash took a deep breath to help emphasise the next point, "He is also not of this world, and my sources say that he is known to others by the name Eric."

Aisha leapt away from the door as if it had suddenly become red hot. "Eric?" She wondered if it could be the same one she'd just met. It was definitely an unusual name, one she had never heard of before, and he would also fit the description. "What do the Rexon want with Eric?" She carefully edged back to the door, not wanting to hear, but knowing that she had to, no matter how bad the information could be.

"And that is all you know? That could be the description of about 30% of the boys who walk into this city every day." The Minister for Foreign Affairs retaliated. "I don't believe all you're saying about this boy, and I'm not too afraid to tell you."

Aisha had heard the raised Ansolonian voice before, but the heavy door muffled it too much to be able to pin it down to a name. That wasn't her main thought as she intently listened to the voice continuing,

"He may think he's getting a good deal with your help in medicines for ores, but I know it stinks, just like you do."

"Alait, please calm down, were all getting a little heated." Harvin tried to ease the temperature down. "If K'nash says that is all, then that is all." he then turned towards the other Ansolonians, "Mr. Prime Minister, gentlemen, I already know why we have to get to him first. As you may or may not know, K'nash has informed us that this Eric", Harvin looked across to K'nash for confirmation that he'd got the name correct. None came. "Anyway, this Eric is a prime carrier of the Sarf."

Aisha heard the gasps from the gathered delegates. She herself had pulled in a small breath of shock, but had to carry on listening, as she knew it couldn't be true. Aisha knew how fast this plague reacted. Her mind flashed back to their first meeting, and watched herself reaching out, her hand touching his, as she helped him stand up. "Oh no!" she whispered. "I've touched him." Yet she looked at her arm and there were no spots, no rash, nothing. Aisha quickly calculated that she had met him about 2 hours earlier. If it was him, she should be dead by now, in fact so should most of the police force that were in the building with him. Aisha had been told that one sarf carrier could kill everyone a small village within 4 hours. Even if these figures were inflated, she knew that by now there would be widespread panic in the streets with the numbers that had been so close to him. The Eric she knew was not the carrier. Even if she was immune, there were too many others who had touched him for it not to be noticed. As a prime carrier, he wouldn't show the symptoms, but would spread the disease. Aisha could only assume that either this wasn't the same Eric she had met, or that K'nash was lying about it. "But why?" she asked herself.

"I have already asked Janosh to increase his patrols within the city" Harvin continued, "but we need to do more. I ask of you, the Government, to help with the extra funding that is now needed to increase the patrols outside of the city. If this Eric is a Prime carrier, we really don't want to let him near civilisation."

"But what have you told your officers?" the Prime Minister asked Janosh.

"Just that this boy is wanted for questioning concerning some serious crimes on the planet Prion, in the Theyta 4 galaxy. That has been enough for my chief so far." Harvin answered, then turned to Janosh "Sorry, I only heard of the true reason this morning."

"But what about them being infected?" The Prime minister asked.

"If you can get him to me immediately, I can quickly obtain a pure antidote, as he is a Prime." K'nash offered his help. "This could be created within an hour and my orbiting ship could disperse it into the atmoshphere without anyone knowing there is a problem."

"Why can't you do that with an antidote now?"

"My scientists have cured the Sarf on many planets, but Human physiology differs so much, and the virus changes from host to host. As he is from another galaxy, and is a Prime carrier, we would have the unique combination of virus and host to create the perfect cure for all."

Everyone thought about K'nash's words for a second.

"Of course, this funding can be approved" added the Prime Minister. "We have to do everything we can to prevent a global disaster"

"Thank you, gentlemen." Harvin replied. "Now if you wouldn't mind I'd like to have a private word with my Chief of Security about another matter" and he pointed upwards and raised his eyebrows. "My troublesome daughter." He added, for K'nash's benefit.

The Prime minister smiled at him. "Kids eh, I love them, but I could never eat a whole one."

"You're not wrong there Prime Minister." Harvin smiled weakly at his joke. "Janosh, we'll take this in my office."

Aisha didn't really hear the last words, as she had already worked out that the meeting was finished and they would soon be leaving the room. It wouldn't look good if she was caught with her ear glued to the door. "Oh no, I've got to hide, quickly"

"Excuse me, Princess, but what are you doing?" the thin, whiny voice behind her made her jump. She turned and already knew who she'd find. Standing there with a triumphant look on his face was Nerith, a sniveling back-stabbing toad, as she had told her father on many occasions. Alas, her father had placed him as a Palace aide, as he was quite useful to have around. To Aisha, those useful attributes always dropped her in the mire. It was probably him who had informed her father that she had left the palace earlier, as she always found him scurrying about sniffing for dirt on anyone and anything, especially her.

A wiry smile had been drawn across his face. He stood there, slightly hunched, wrinkled clothes, too baggy for his small frame, too old and too tatty for his excessive ego. And all the time, the worst of his mannerisms worked away in front of her, as he wrung his sweaty hands together.

"So, Princess?" Nerith added the twinge of contempt in his voice when he said her name. He wasn't a royalist, as he believed that they were a huge drain on the economy of the planet. He was all for a simpler system of electing a President, and he waited for that day when he could then deal with people of real power, not this feeble King and his retched Daughter. "I'll ask again, what were you doing?"

Aisha knew that she'd been caught, and needed to think of a good excuse, quickly. She was trapped between a sniveling Nerith and the delegates about to open the door behind her, and realised that this was definitely not the place to be.

"Erm, I had seen my father come this way, just a couple of minutes ago, and didn't know where he had gone. So, I, erm, well, it's a little embarrassing." She half smiled and dropped her head slightly in shame.

"I should say so, my dear." The grin widened a little, he had her caught again.

Aisha could hear the glee in his voice, although the words made her squirm inside.

"No, I had to tell him something, and needed to know if he was alone, so I've listened at a few doors along the corridor, before entering, and I've finally found him in here, but it sounds like he's in a meeting of some sort." She pointed at the door and smiled fleetingly again.

"A likely story, you've been ear wigging" he waited a second as he enjoyed the power he had over her.

"No I have not, how dare you suggest that", she replied defiantly, her face feigned anger.

"In that case, why not tell me the message and I will personally relay it to the king," he tilted his head and turned it slightly around, so that he could hear her more clearly. He knew that there was no message, and he was doing this as an act as he played her at her own game. "He will be told the moment he has adjourned."

I bet you would, you creep, thought Aisha.

The doors opened, and out came Harvin and K'nash at the head of the ensemble. Harvin looked up, "Aisha," and simply nodded towards his daughter, she hoped the anger had subsided a little, the events of the meeting having seen to that. He then turned slightly as he saw his palace aide "Ah, Hello Nerith, was there something you wanted me for?"

Nerith smiled at Harvin, and bowed slightly towards K'nash. "Yes, sire. I have just encountered your daughter outside this very room, and she states that she has a message to give to you," He turned to look straight at Aisha, as did everyone else. Nerith's smile broadened, which only made it look like the line across his face had been drawn by an even thinner pen. The hands wriggled and wringed even faster as he had caught her once again, and this was his ultimate moment of triumph.

"Yes, erm Father..." Aisha started.

Nerith could hear the panic in her voice, as she struggled to get out of this predicament.

"I don't care what Aisha has to say, I've heard it all before", replied Harvin to Nerith, and he walked past her with Janosh, off towards his office.

Aisha turned round as her father passed, wanting to really tell him she was sorry, and also to tell him that she knew where Eric was.

"Thank you Nerith, I may need your help later." Harvin said as he passed his now totally dejected aide. Nerith's hopes of dropping Aisha into trouble had been lost again.

Aisha watched everyone head off down the corridor, wanting to catch up. She also knew she had to get to Eric and warn him, but how.

She whispered his name as she thought about why they needed him. Standing there, contemplating the problems before her, she hadn't noticed that Nerith had moved a lot closer. Aisha jumped as Nerith sniffed the scented air around her, his eyes had glazed over.

"What are you doing, you vile thing", Aisha screeched.

Nerith's eyes snapped open in shock "Oh, sorry" he sniffed again, and took a moment to enjoy her scent. "I was just heading off to my office" and he scurried down the corridor, his head bobbing back and forth, up and down as he spied into any open rooms.

Friends in High Places.

"Tim, thanks for getting back to me." Ian Jackson spoke into his laptop screen.

"No problem mate, always a pleasure to help MI9." The tanned athletic face of Astronaut Tim Lancelotte beamed back at him.

"How long have you got to go?" Ian asked

"One week 3 days before rotation and I climb into a Soyuz capsule and free-fall back to earth."

"Excellent, we'll have to have that drink whenever I'm next in Texas or you're in England." Ian smiled at his friend who was on the Space station, currently orbiting Earth.

"Will do bro, but I think we'd both prefer some Texan hospitality, you know, huge steaks on the pit, corn bread, some suds slipping down..." His southern American drawl made it sound more inviting.

"I agree." Ian could almost taste the Philadelphia blackened steaks, something Tim had introduced Ian to when he'd spent three months training with NASA in Houston Texas.

"So why the call today?"

"You remember the anomaly you logged last week?" Ian asked.

Tim checked that he was alone. "Wait there." He pushed away from the monitor and floated gently across the room to the circular hatch at the far side of the circular room. He popped his head out and checked none of the adjoining capsules were occupied in the floating jigsaw of interconnecting tubes and capsules before closing it. He then gently pushed off again to get back to the monitor and keyboard set up that was fixed to the side of the circular room.

Ian watched in silence, looking at all the drawers and cupboards around the room. As there was no gravity, every last centimetre of space was used. The little handles circled the whole capsule, as there was no real up or down in space. He knew that each door held an experiment inside or some piece of specialised equipment to use. Everything was very ordered, nothing at all like Charlie Cockburn's dumping ground Ian had come from earlier.

Tim tapped a couple of keys and the picture wobbled and pixelated for a second before clearing once more. "Secured and encrypted James." Tim beamed again, using the pet name he'd given him during his time in Texas. The American Astronaut had been Ian's buddy during his training period, having been placed with him for his living accommodation and training schedule. Tim quickly came up with the new nick-name of James (as in Bond) to the British Secret Service Agent.

"So, the anomaly that you logged," Ian repeated now they were on a very secure data stream from low orbit of the space station as it flew over the UK. "Your NSA guys had a peek and found nothing, but we've just had a sideways finding that might tie in."

"I'm all ears." Tim's eyes widened as his senses heightened.

"Sergeant Cockburn has been working on a remote transportation device."

"Cool."

"And he's worked out that the last set of coordinates to be sent by you positioned it about 100 miles above the north pole."

"Wow!" The astronaut exclaimed, thinking for a second. "The earth's magnetic flux would nicely disguise anything sat there, making it virtually invisible."

"Yes, but you picked something up though."

"True, but at first I thought it was a glitch in the sensors."

"So what were you looking for?"

"We were checking the ozone depletion, along with about 1000 other ongoing experiments on here."

"And what was it exactly you did?"

"Every 2 weeks we pass over that area, or at least near enough to do a run." Tim explained. "We measure the diameter and rate of expulsion across the known spectrums from gamma to infrared."

"And at which end did the anomaly occur?"

"At the gamma radiation end." Tim replied.

"How many times have you had those readings?"

"Well that's the strange thing." Tim rubbed the rough stubble on his chin. As water was very precious in the space station, and all waste has to be brought back to earth, then it was quite usual for most Astronauts to grow a beard while in space. "4 weeks ago I had the anomaly, and the other day it was the same."

"Ok." Ian understood.

"But 2 weeks ago, there was nothing."

"So, just to repeat and clarify, what you're saying is that 2 days ago and 4 weeks ago, the anomaly in the gamma frequency was there, but 2 weeks ago, it wasn't?"

"Yes, that's it, which doesn't make sense."

"It does to me, and it tells me quite a lot." Ian replied.

"Hey, that's not fair." Tim mocked anger. "You know I've got a limited window to talk to you, and it's nearly out as I'm about to go over Siberia, so I'll be out of angle."

"Sorry, what's that, you seem to be breaking up?" Ian replied, laughing.

"No worries man, I'll keep a track on the anomaly and let you know direct next time." Tim held a thumb up to the screen.

"I'll bring you some beers next time I'm over to have with that barby." Ian replied just as the picture did break up, the International space station continuing its speedy flight round the world.

He sighed at the blank screen, checking his own idea he had formulated from the information Tim had passed to him, and could come up with no other solution. Eklan had left Earth's orbit between the time she'd attacked Tom and Eric, around 4 weeks ago, and had returned to try to get them once more, over the last few days.

The good part was that he knew what to look for now, and could go up through the ranks and get the Earth Defence Force to scan for an increase in gamma radiation levels. They'd at least know they were here, even if he didn't know where on Earth they were.

Information.

Aisha waited until Nerith had gone round the corner towards his pokey little office at the end of the west wing of the palace before she darted towards the rear door. She stopped before she reached the same solid oak doors she'd passed through less than 20 minutes earlier, looking around carefully, checking that she wasn't being watched. Once safe from prying eyes, she deftly took 4 steps to her left. To the unknowing thousands who had passed through and even the ones who had decorated these painted panel walls it would have seemed to them that it was as solid a wall as anywhere else in the Palace.

Aisha knew different.

She rapped her knuckles 4 times on the second upper panel along, at just the right spot. The panel sprung back at her revealing a very carefully hidden secret; a door to a maze of secret passages. Aisha gave the entrance hall and stairs one final check, looking for any prying eyes, listening for any footsteps on the palace's polished marble floors, before darting through the opening into the dark corridor beyond.

Aisha let the door shut behind her before switching on the lights. They threw little light, but after a few seconds, her eyes adjusted and it was more than adequate to make her way along these passages to some quite interesting places. She'd found out where they went whilst exploring virtually every inch of them over the years.

Aisha had been told about these hidden passages by her grandfather. It was after he'd handed over his Kingdom and its power to his son and heir, Aisha's Dad, so that he could enjoy some special time with his only granddaughter before his ailing health took him from them both. It worked very well for everyone. It meant Harvin could get hands-on mentoring as the King, and Aisha could have her granddad around to play with for most of the day.

Granth himself had learnt of the passages during the colonial wars, as they had been built into the structure of the building some 300 years before, when the house had been originally erected. This was specified by the architect as a means of hiding royalty. Alas a member of the former Royal family had unwittingly boasted a little too loudly, and after being enticed with ale, had let it slip about the passages to an enemy spy. The enemy leaders sent assassins along the very same, formally safe passages, to commit a series of easy kills. It was ironic that it had been Granth's great-great-great-grandfather that had lead the armies of the enemy, and thus they became the new royal family.

Time helped to erase the passages from most minds, as they hadn't been needed since. Although the presiding royal family passed the information down, just in case, making sure that only they knew. King Harvin knew of them, but had only been told once he came into power, unfortunately, this had also been seen by a pair of very inquisitive young female eyes.

Granth had later caught Aisha when she inadvertently popped out from behind a panel, directly into his quarters, after taking a wrong turn. He decided to sit her down and tell her the truth and the history behind them. Granth had also admitted that he'd been using them as an effective method of cheating whilst playing hide and seek with her.

This time, as Aisha hurried along the passage, she didn't want to feel free or just explore, and she definitely wasn't going in there to play. She knew exactly where she was heading.

Nerith stood in awe at what his latest spying mission had uncovered. He had merrily slunk back towards his office, and slipped around the corner after leaving Aisha. He immediately stopped, stooped and quickly turned round. He drew his head out slowly, peering back along the passage. His head was in line with the arm of a chair, and he could see the Princess through the gap.

She was up to something, but he had no real evidence. The meeting with the King had not gone to plan, so he wanted swift revenge. Nerith watched as Aisha dashed back towards the rear entrance of the Palace. He crept stealthily to the corner, arriving just in time to see Aisha disappear behind an unusual doorway set in the paneling. This was interesting news indeed. But what to doit?, he thought to himself.

"Nerith, what are you doing?" He leapt back from the corner and looked straight into the enquiring and quite menacing eyes of the Chief of Security.

"Nothing, sir, I was just erm," he racked his mind for the best excuse he could find. "Yes, Chief Actflor, I was just thinking I heard something scurry along the floor near the entrance," this could work, he thought, "and wondered if it was a rat." He smiled at Janosh weakly.

"There's only one rat in here, and I doubt it's got four legs." Janosh's eyes flashed downwards, "So why were you creeping along the corridor?"

"I thought I'd surprise it and catch it, to show to the king." He bowed his head slightly.

Janosh didn't believe him, as he didn't like the sniveling back-stabbing worm. He also suspected that he'd spy for anyone who'd give him some power. "I bet you were trying to spy on the King and myself just now, and I've caught you as the rat!" Janosh watched him carefully to see his reactions to the accusation.

"I was doing nothing of the sort, Chief." He didn't want to tell him what had seen, as he wanted to be the first to investigate what was behind the secret doorway and then maybe tell Janosh. Then he thought again, that maybe he wouldn't want to tell him at all, as this was information that he wanted to keep for himself, something that would be useful. Unfortunately, the desire to drop Aisha into trouble again was overwhelming. "Actually, I need to go and see the King, I have important news." His heart raced at the thought of snitching once more.

"I've just come from him, and he said that he doesn't want to be disturbed." Janosh replied. He knew Nerith was up to something, and he wondered if it had something to do with this boy they were all looking for.

"But this is important, he has to know this immediately" and tried to step past the Chief.

"I said that the King doesn't want disturbing." Janosh's arm flew out and grabbed Nerith's collar, yanking him off his feet and fly back round to where he'd started. "Tell me the news and I will pass it on to him. I'm just off to check on something for him, and then I will be returning with a report." Janosh tilted his head slightly and raised one eyebrow as he stood his ground.

Nerith had no reason to distrust Janosh, and he definitely didn't want to upset him. He'd just felt what he could do, first hand, and Janosh hadn't put any effort into hoisting Nerith back. He weighed up the pros and cons of him waiting to tell the king later, or to let him find out sooner through a third party. He looked up at the piercing eyes of the Chief of Security, and decided on the second option. "I've just this moment observed the Princess dash down a hidden passage, over there next to the rear entrance." He pointed to the place where he'd watched her disappear.

Janosh looked to where he was pointing, and then back at Nerith. "Do you know where she was heading?"

A firm tone could just be heard as his face hardened and his eyes pierced through Nerith, searching his mind for the information.

"No, but she was whispering a strange name only minutes ago, oh what was it.", his eyes rolled around in their sockets as he played his little game of having unique information that someone else wanted. He occasionally stopped to glance at Janosh, and savoured the power he had over him. "I'm sure it started with an 'E'." Nerith enjoyed having the upper hand for a change, and decided to milk it for all it was worth.

"It wasn't Eric was it?" Janosh hoped it was, and also that it wasn't.

"Yes, yes, that's it, Eric." Nerith's excitement for the game quickly dwindled and he was disappointed again. He hadn't expected Janosh to guess it so quickly; wanting to tease him for a short while.

"Blast." Janosh dropped Nerith and raced out of the door, blaring orders into his radio.

Truth.

"Someone has gone behind my back and blabbed to K'nash?" Eklan spat her Supreme Commander's name out.

"Yes, which isn't good for morale you know." Commander Prant was trying not to let the glee he felt show.

"When I find out whom, then I'll destroy them."

"Yes, yes, we all know how fearsome Commander Eklan is."

"What do you mean by that?" Eklan turned her anger towards Prant.

"You see," Prant's eyes closed, taking a moment to let the heat in their conversation subside. "You blow off at the slightest thing." He held up a hand to his camera. "Don't jump down my throat, but carry on as you are doing and you'll find it difficult to get any staff, especially as you're removing 2 or 3 on every mission."

Commander Prant was sat in his office on Scarx, the baked orange surface of the world that he could see through the window behind his screen was shimmering from the excess heat it received in the middle of the day. A strange, desolate world, the only living things were hardy lizards and the Rexon based in their military camp. Prant thought he'd been punished when sent to such a distant world, as far as it could be from Rexon, so devoid of anything, but Gorath, the Rexon Council Leader explained this was so he could work quietly, away from the hustle and bustle of war zones. He would be very well funded, given any equipment he needed, and the best soldiers and scientists available from the Military Academy and Scientific Research Institutes respectively. Prant soon realised this was a dream location. It was very quiet, so he could work how he wanted, and would be left alone. His primary aim was to develop a better understanding of the technology they'd stolen from other worlds, including the Kylapitar. He could use those pieces of equipment as it suited, and go on missions as and when required.

Scarx had 3 orbiting suns, each one rising before the previous one had set, each one more intense, so that in the height of summer, when the 3 suns were at their highest, it could be a baking 160 degrees+ outside, too hot for most Rexon. Of a night time, the planet basked in the glow of a nearby nebula, which gave it an eerie green hue.

"So what do you suggest I do?" Eklan had calmed a little, but was still clenching her teeth.

"K'nash isn't an overly intelligent man, and I've found that a bit of careful planning will easily sidetrack him." Prant explained. "But first you have to control that anger."

Eklan took a deep breath and ran her index finger all the way down the ridge of her nose, from forehead to her chin.

Prant had seen this action before. "Good, calming techniques will help, but I warn you that K'nash will rile you, he will want to get under your skin, he will try his very best to make you lose control, because once he's done that, he wins."

"I know." A resigned edge to her voice.

"Right, what do you know so far?"

"I know we have the Tom boy back here."

"A good start." Prant praised her.

"And that the Eric one is somewhere within the City."

"OK, and you can't narrow it down to nearer than that."

"Assuming what I'm being told is accurate, then yes, he was near the Northern Quarter, and I can assume he's now within the city, as he was heading this way."

"Right, well what you need to do is find a spy on the ground."

"A human?"

"They have their uses sometimes." Prant took a deep breath realising that this was going to take some explaining to someone new to the world of counter intelligence. Eklan was a sledgehammer, smashing her way through missions, and that didn't lend itself to the delicate intricacies of the discreet world of warfare. "K'nash uses one, and if he's willing to turn traitor against his own kind, then I'm sure you can persuade him to do the same for you."

Eklan let the idea roll around in her mind. Her hatred for anyone human was deep rooted, based upon the merciless killing of her family when she was a child. She was then taken into care, where the demonstrative foster-father ruled the roost with an iron fist. He was a commander in the Rexon Army, but had lost many battles, and as such would bring his anger and frustration home. This anger would be taken out of each child in turn, but he'd save the worst for Eklan, as she wasn't his blood.

Eklan had run away from that home very quickly, only to be returned once caught. She resigned herself to her new life, knowing that at 14 years old she could leave to join the war effort. She wanted to be a commander, so that she could lead other men, and not they lead her. She could also destroy humans and their worlds, as they had done to her.

To ally herself with a human was abhorrent. "I can't."

"You have to." Prant reasoned with her. "This way you get to toy with them, thinking they have a purpose in life; that they will survive." A dark shadow of a veil fell across his face. "You will be able to gain information direct, behind K'nash's back."

"But how do I know K'nash won't know."

"The human I know of on Ansolon will not do that. He will think he has 2 friends in the Rexon camp, that if K'nash wants to end his relationship, he always has you."

"But he might feed the information to both of us."

"Very true, and it will happen, but at least you'll know it first, not in a roundabout way."

Eklan could see his point.

"You will be able to do to K'nash what he has done to you, and play with a human at the same time." Prant's evil face smiled, making it look even more demonic. "It's quite fun seeing how they wriggle and squirm for their lives, doing anything they can to stay alive, delivering their friends and fellow race on a silver platter to us."

Eklan sat back in her chair and looked up to the ceiling. The hum of the air purifier system was the calm she used to get away from the anger. She'd chosen her quarters to be in the depths of the ship, near to constant hum of the air purifying plant, which would seep into her thoughts and help her switch off.

"OK, I'll give it a try."

"Excellent." Prant enjoyed the fact he was helping someone get one over K'nash. The Leader had been his Commander as he rose through the ranks, and picked on him as he was small. Normally, the shorter more intelligent ones were forced into the world of Science, or teaching others, but Prant had persisted in the military. He'd increased his exercise regime, making him as strong as any other, and his smaller build made him quicker, and as such he used those skills to his advantage whenever K'nash had thrown him into a fight with one or more larger Rexon. K'nash enjoyed the sport, yet hated the fact that Prant won every fight. So he let Prant lead a team of his worst soldiers into a battle where he knew they would all die. Against all the odds, Prant and most of his team came through the ordeal, gaining the victory. It was at that point that Gorath, the Rexon Council Leader stepped in and relocated what he could see would be the savior of the Rexon race.

"So who is this human?" Eklan asked.

"Nerith, an advisor to King Harvin himself."

Trust.

The door opened slowly into a very dark and quiet storeroom. Aisha peered through the small gap she'd created, holding her breath, keeping as quiet as she could. She'd used this route before, knew where she was, and that all is not as safe as anybody may have thought. So far, so good. Aisha thought, and being very careful, pushed the door open a little more. There was just enough light spilling through the small glass panel above the door at the far end of the storeroom to allow her to see some of the contents.

Still hidden by the door, her eyes explored more of the room. It was only a basic store, racking placed along the outer walls storing everything from overalls to cleaning items to blank paperwork. The first time she came through, it surprised her at how many different blank forms were required by one group of people. There was a small desk and chair, adjacent to the door, which she had presumed was used by the clerical staff to book out items, or probably to fill in more forms.

As a young girl, Aisha had relieved them of a small amount of blank paper and a very nice selection of colourful pens and pencils. She could simply relax and draw pictures in her room whenever she liked. As a Princess, she knew that she could always ask for such simple items, and they'd be brought to her without a second thought. Alas, she was too much like her Granddad and she liked to look after herself, and also keep a few secrets from the world. This gave her some small amount of independence.

Easing the door open a little more, it was now wide enough for her to be able to start to stick her head through the gap, and peer around the rest of the store. Her eyes scanned the shelves, seeing brushes, tins of cleaning fluids and paint. She could clearly see the door at the far side of the room, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was closed.

She knew that the door into the room had a type of lock that could be opened from the inside, and when closed again, would lock itself. This made it easier to for her to escape from here and to hide her tracks.

Suddenly, Aisha stopped moving as she heard two voices coming along the corridor on the other side of the door. They stopped right outside the store room, she watched their shadows being cast under the door. Gently, she pulled back the secret door she was hiding behind, so that it only left a tiny gap to peer through again, and listened.

The voices were quite muffled, and didn't seem to be discussing anything important except for the previous evenings sport. One suddenly laughed, which made Aisha jump a little, accidentally slamming the door shut, quite noisily.

"Damn" she whispered harshly to herself.

Aisha listened intently behind the secret door, wondering if the door banging had brought any curious eyes into the store. She waited what seemed like minutes before finally plucking up the courage to open it again. She started going through the routine of peering through the gap, checking that it was clear, opening it a little more, checking again, before finally stepping out into the room.

"I wondered how long it would take you, Princess."

Aisha's eyes were on stalks, her heart thumped so hard in her chest that she could hear nothing else as she peered into the dark shadows around the desk ahead of her. "Who's there?" she whispered, ready to dash back down the passage to the palace at the first sign of an attack.

"Don't worry." Said the disembodied voice quietly, "It's me, Janosh."

She leant slightly forward to where the voice had come from, not wanting to move her feet, keeping herself nearer to an escape route than the person who was talking. Aisha could now make out the shadow of someone sat on the desk, their feet placed on the seat of the chair. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the room she finally realised that it was the Chief sat there. "Janosh, it is you, isn't it?"

"Yes, now please close that door behind you, it causes such a draught." He said quietly.

"But what are you doing here?" She asked.

"What? me?" Even in the darkness of the room, Aisha could see him point to himself, and knew he'd have on an over exaggerated expression of shock on his face, adding to the sarcasm. "You're asking what I'm doing here in my store room, that's in middle of my Police station." His usual dry humour prevailed. "Well, yes, I have to admit that it is a very strange place to be for the Chief of Security, unlike a certain teenage Princess who should be here in this newly appointed Socialite Gathering Den."

"But how did you know that I would be coming here?" The question had suddenly hit her.

"Ah, you may find this a little weird, but I do have my own intelligence network, sort of comes with the job." His sarcasm worked its way round to a point.

"But the passage, I've just shown you..." Her hand flew to her mouth as she realised that she'd let her family down, as Aisha had promised to never let anyone know, even her closest friends.

"Oh, don't worry, I've known about those for quite a while," He smiled, enjoying his little game, "another privilege of the job."

"Oh" was all Aisha could say.

"So, why are you here Aisha? Just popping in to say hi and thought that, if I was free, we could have a quick game of chess or something, but you didn't want to disturb the limo driver's tea break?" She clearly saw the beaming smile on Janosh's face.

"Look, you already know why I'm here." Aisha knew that if she had to trust someone, she could always trust Janosh. "And who I'm here to see, because you were in that meeting with my father" Aisha knew that she was now admitting to ear-wigging at the door of a very top level and closed meeting, but she needed to get Eric to safety.

"Very true, but you shouldn't have heard any of that meeting, should you?" Janosh stated. This was more to tell her off than to actually ask her. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows to accentuate the accusation.

"Well no, but I was just..."

"Don't worry, I'm actually glad you did listen. Although I have to admit that when you bowled over K'nash it did make my day a little better, but that's just me I presume. Now," He pushed the chair out with his feet towards Aisha. "Have a seat and tell me everything you know about this Eric," he leant forward. "And I mean everything."

Aisha recounted all that had gone on, from Eric's mugging in the gorge through her treatment by his officer, to walking through the storeroom door. She knew in her own mind that they may have only been together for about 1 hour, Eric was honest and true. Finally, and for a reason that she couldn't explain, she had this feeling that somehow, he was very special.

"So, do we fancy him?" Janosh tried to keep a straight face.

Even in the darkness of the storeroom, Aisha knew that Janosh could see her face going scarlet and she leapt to her feet. "How dare you ask that? Of course I don't fancy him. Anyway, what has that got to do with anything?"

Janosh could see the anger in her eyes. It was the type that's used to protect oneself, not an attacking type of anger.

"Have a seat and don't worry, you're secret is safe with me Princess." He winked, winding her up some more. He always found a way, and he enjoyed doing it. "I had to ask, just to make sure you were biased enough, and felt strongly enough to do what I'm going to ask you to do."

Janosh had been formulating the basis of an idea whilst racing back to the station, and finalising it whilst he sat on the desk waiting for Aisha to appear out of the passage. It all depended on one thing, if Aisha had enough feelings for Eric to do anything for him. He realised that it may cost her all of her royal privileges, and if it all went wrong, could bring the throne down. Yet, knowing some of the information he had gained recently through his intelligence networks, it was an acceptable risk to take. He knew that he had to do something.

She sat dumbstruck whilst Janosh explained his plan. She couldn't believe that he would be asking someone like her to take part in such an awesome task, but she was ready for it. Her head and her heart both agreed that it was the only course of action.

After about 10 minutes, he stopped to ask if she'd understood everything so far. Aisha simply nodded, her mouth still agape, as it had been from the first minute of him starting to explain. Janosh quickly went over the key points again, checking that everything would be in place, and that she knew what to do and more importantly, when to do it.

With that finished he got off the desk and took a deep breath. "So, are you certain that you want to do this?" He asked her.

Aisha stood up and slid the chair slowly and quietly back to its home under the desk. She did this very thoughtfully, not because she worried about scraping it along the floor and making a sound, or scratching the paint, but because she was thinking about everything. The chair came to a full stop as it nudged the desk, and Aisha looked towards the back of the chair, but not at it.

Janosh waited patiently.

"Yes, I want to do it."

He took her hands. His chest tightened, as he'd been near to the family for a number of years, and had watched her grow up. Janosh had formed a special friendship with her, as he was always willing to crack a joke, wind her up, even to spend a few minutes kicking a ball about with her. He'd done so initially to help her trust someone new. It allowed him to train her in basic safety and security. Yet as time went on, Aisha started to confide in him, and he became more of a surrogate big brother to her. He looked deep into her eyes, "You know the possible consequences?"

"Yes." She smiled back at him. Aisha knew he wasn't asking as the Chief of security, but as a friend. "It will work, because you've come up with the plan, and I've never known you to fail."

Janosh dragged her into his arms "Be very, very careful missy." He squeezed her once again, to give her some of his seemingly never ending strength.

After a second, they both stepped back. He smiled, and she gave him the thumbs up. Neither said another word as Aisha went along the passage to get everything she needed, agreeing to return in 1 hour.

Snack-time

Aisha crept out from behind the secret door into her dressing area at the far end of her bedroom. She gathered some outdoor clothes, stuffing them into a rucksack she used when camping with her friends in the forests to the north of the city. Then, she shoved the bag to the back of her wardrobe, pulling a couple of formal evening gowns forward to conceal it. The result was perfect. It was easily obtainable, but hidden from any prying eyes.

The next part of the plan would be a little more difficult.

Aisha walked carefully down the stairs from her room and said a nonchalant "Hi" to the skulking Nerith, hoping it was enough to keep him at bay from spying on her for the next hour. She skipped down and round the next flight of stairs glancing back up to make sure Nerith wasn't following. Aisha briskly walked along the corridor and then down another 2 flights of stair to the kitchens.

Aisha wasn't a stranger to this area of the Palace. It was a good place to hide from the overpowering and suffocating world above. Mrs.Preetam was her favourite cook, and Aisha was pleased to hear her singing as she neared the door. Mrs.Preetam was an old fashioned style of cook, and always worked the evening shifts, as she had told Aisha on many occasions over the years, "Any fool can make a bowl of cereal and a slice of toast for breakfast, or a sandwich for lunch," She normally puffed up her ample chest with pride at that point before continuing, "but only a real cook can make a decent gravy and a full roast dinner." Aisha agreed whole heartedly. As, on the occasions when Mrs.Preetam was not on duty, the evening dinner would be smothered in either some thin watery dishwater mixture, or worse still, some mountainous lumpy glue.

The smell of warm bread tempted Aisha's senses as she entered, making her mouth water immediately. It was one of life's pleasures to eat a chunk of freshly ripped bread from a loaf that had only moments earlier been basking in the warmth of the ovens. Aisha had endured this pleasure on many an occasion, sometimes to the point of not wanting any of the formal dinner Mrs.Preetam had spent quite a few hours preparing. This was always accompanied by a stern look from the cook.

Mrs.Preetam didn't mind really, she loved to spoil Aisha, as if she was one of her own grandchildren. She understood the pressures the young Princess was under, having no mother about to help her through all the trials and tribulations, so Mrs.Preetam took on the role of surrogate Grandmother. She always made sure that a small plate of shortbread and chocolate chip cookies were sent to Aisha's room before she retired, along with a glass of milk. Aisha didn't eat them all, as they were too filling, but would store them in a sealed jar to share with her friends at school the following day.

"Hi, Mrs.Preetam", said Aisha breezily.

"Good afternoon, my dear, and what are you up to today?" Mrs.Preetam used the back of her hand to brush a stray hair that had escaped from her hairnet and was tickling her cheek wickedly. This had the desired effect of getting rid of the annoying hair, but left a war-paint stripe of flour and butter across her cheek.

Aisha had already thought of a plan, "I'm off for a sleepover with a few friends." And she plonked herself down on a stool on the opposite side of the huge central worktop.

"Oh, that sounds nice my dear, and I suppose you're after a few midnight snacks, then" she added looking at her with a raised eyebrow and big smile. Her colourful pinny was tightly stretched across her full figure. It was well worn, but she was very proud to wear it, as it was one of the last things her husband had bought her before he died 12 years earlier.

"Get some of those cookies from the jar at the back of the store room." Nodding her head in the direction of the huge room at the back of the kitchen, as her hands kneaded some dough. "Why do things only itch when you've got both hands occupied?" Mrs.Preetam asked.

Aisha watched Mrs.Preetam contort her face this way and that a few more times before giving in and rubbing her nose vigorously with the back of her forearm.

"I've baked them for the staff, but I can soon whip up a fresh batch." Mrs.Preetam shouted across the room.

"Thanks you."

Aisha trotted over to the room at the back of the kitchen.

"I'll make you a few sandwiches, if you'd like dear!" Mrs.Preetam called out to a seemingly empty kitchen.

Aisha popped her head out of the store, "Oh, yes please, that would be lovely" her head darted back into the store, and then back out again, "Some ham, and some tuna, if you don't mind, thank you." Aisha smiled at the cook, before ducking back inside the store where she quickly gathered a few essentials and put them behind the secret door that was in the side of the room she was in, behind one of the racks. These she would collect on her way out of the palace. She could have quite easily got all these things by coming in from the passages behind the secret door, but she respected Mrs.Preetam enough to at least make it look like she wasn't stealing from her.

She finally picked up her cookies, checked that the secret door was closed fully, then put a smile on her face and trotted back into the main kitchen, munching merrily on a choice cookie.

"What else would you like on the sandwiches?" Mrs.Preetam shouted over her shoulder, not realising that Aisha had returned.

"Can I have a little mayonnaise and red onion on the tuna, and salad and a bit of cheese on the ham, please." she added making Mrs.Preetam jump.

"Oh, my dear, you scared the living daylights out of me, sneaking up on a frail old lady like me", she now had a bigger dab of flour glued to her pinny where she carefully held her now thumping heart within her chest.

"You're no frailer than a palace guard. In fact, with some of them I'd put my money on you beating them in a fight, any day." Aisha was having none of Mrs.Preetam's feeble attempt to feign weakness.

She laughed, and then leant down to Aisha, as if in a crowded social gathering, "I know" she whispered, and winked at her. "They do seem to be getting a little weedier every time I look. What they need is a week of my cooking and they'd be as strong as Oxen." She planted her feet together, and saluted Aisha. "Guard Phyllis Preetam, reporting for duty Princess."

They both giggled for a while.

"Actually, my dear, I did meet a fine young chap today, although he'd been in a fight, and looked all too worse for wear." Mrs.Preetam changed the subject.

Aisha knew this subject would have been brought up some time, as Mrs.Preetam always tried to pair her off with some nice young man that she'd met that day. The chances of her actually meeting one of these boys selected for Aisha was very slim indeed, as being a Princess, she didn't get out too often, and if she did, she was heavily guarded, unless she escaped.

"He was a very handsome chap, once I'd tidied him up, and washed the blood away from all the cuts and scrapes."

Aisha wasn't really listening, because she had already bumped into her own very handsome chap, and was thinking about him.

"He looked like he had come from one of the other planets." Mrs.Preetam carried on with her bread making whilst trying to tempt Aisha, "and his name was Eric, I think."

"Eric?" Aisha snapped out of her daydream when she heard his name.

"Yes dear, why do you know him?" Mrs.Preetam's heart lifted a little with joy as her hopes of actually finding someone they both knew had been realised.

"Erm, no, I thought, erm, that it was just a strange name, that was all." Aisha flashed a smile across her face to help deflect the questions.

"Oh, yes I suppose it is" Mrs.Preetam wasn't at all convinced that Aisha was being totally honest, and started to wonder if there was a little more to this sleepover than Aisha had told her.

"Now, my dear, how many sandwiches do you and Eric want?" she knew what she'd said, and had done so to watch and wait for any reaction she got as she toyed with Aisha.

"Oh, quite a few as there may be...." It finally registered, "No, not this Eric. Anyway, he's in prison, I'm off to Sunchara's place for the evening with a few of the others"

"In prison?" she asked, "but he seemed to be such a nice young man." Mrs.Preetam added incredulously, "and how come you know where he is?"

Aisha knew that she'd been rumbled, and wondered if it was worth trying to hide anything from Mrs.Preetam.

Surprise Package.

Janosh looked at the two large, bulky envelopes on the tray in front of him. He opened one and tipped the contents out onto his desk. He brushed through the odd bits of paper, picked up the penknife and checked the blade opened. The weight felt good in his hand, and the carved wooden sides felt warm and comforting. He looked at the markings and saw 5 tiny detailed figures. Two larger ones stood watching three other smaller figures. One was on a swing, two played with a ball, he admired the intricate details and clarity of the picture. Rolling it over in his hand he could see a desert island beach landscape. Birds flew in the sky, a single figure rested against a coconut tree, the sea lapping only metres away, and a distant sailboat was moored off the shore. Janosh rolled from one side to the other. He could see that the sides could be removed, so assumed the owner had carved them, and each side depicted a story of what was, and what could be. Picking up a piece of a4 paper from the piles at the side of his desk, he sliced through it with ease. "That's a very nice knife" he said to himself. Snapping the blade shut, he quickly scouted around the remaining tools without opening them out. "A very handy piece of kit, young man." He said to the empty room. "Maybe I should get myself one."

He looked into the presumably empty envelope just to see if anything had been left in there, and let out a little sigh as it was still very empty. Janosh shoveled the items back into their temporary paper home and sealed it up, before dropping it back into the tray.

He picked up the other envelope and instantly felt that it was heavier. He looked at the outside for a few seconds, waited to see if anything was going to happen. He knew it wouldn't, but his instincts told him to be very careful.

Once again, he opened the envelope and carefully slid the contents onto his desk. This time his eyes instantly shot to the item he'd heard was there.

The phone rang and he calmly picked it up. "Acflor."

"Is it true?" The voice said through the phone.

Janosh recognised the voice instantly. "Yes, it's on my desk." And he reached out with his free hand and touched the object in question.

"And the items charge?"

Janosh took a deep breath. "It will be on its way soon, along with 2 surprise packages."

"Excellent." The phone said. "It's about time that we changed the war in our favour."

"I'm concerned that we're doing the right thing though."

"I have total faith in everyone."

"Right, I'll go and sort out the next part." Janosh's thoughts lingered on his doubts. "We'll talk again soon." And he hung up the phone before the caller could reply.
Memories

Ian Jackson parked his car in the same spot he'd used a couple of days earlier. He looked across the small suburban street to the alleyway between a pair of semi-detached houses. It was big enough to get a car down as it was used as an entrance to the back of 4 houses on the main road behind Steelgate Drive. It was also where he'd lost Eric Peterson, the young man he was supposedly watching and trying to keep safe. His shoulders stiffened as his resolve to find Eric raced to the fore. Ian Jackson wasn't someone who ran away from a problem, or bemoaned the loss of a battle, he was the sort who would keep standing up, keep raising his fists and keep battling on; these were the same traits he'd seen in Eric Peterson, and that was why he knew he had to keep fighting, so that he could get Eric home.

He rang the doorbell of number 36, which merrily chimed its little two-tone herald.

"Hi!" Emma Peterson, Eric's mum, had opened the door. At 38 years old, she was getting into her prime. She had a naturally curvy figure, one that in the right clothes would have looked perfect in any era. Her long tousled black hair was never ironed flat, as she preferred her natural flow of the curves and kinks. A slightly pointed chin led up to a broad mouth, full lips ringing a bright set of teeth. Her nose was a little pinched, many would class it as small, but on her, it looked right. Her large hazel eyes had a tiny red ring around them, the only visible attribute that she had not been sleeping very well. She wiped her hands on a tea towel. "Sorry, I was just baking." She said quite breezily, before her shoulders dropped a little, realising she didn't need to keep up the act. "Just something to keep me busy, come on in Ian, it's good to see someone I can really talk to."

Ian knew what she meant. They walked through the little vestibule and into the lounge, and into a large lounge. He sat down on the maroon coloured leather sofa, which had what looked like massive knitted pillow-sized cushions with huge buttons on the front. It was quite homely and he sat back and relaxed.

"Drink?" Emma asked as she headed through the lounge and into the kitchen behind.

"Please, tea or coffee, whichevers easiest."

"I've got a pot of coffee on, and its black isn't it?"

"Yes, thanks."

Ian looked around the room, knowing that he'd not find any clues, knowing the room so well. The same 42" Plasma sat in the corner on a smoked glass TV stand. A matching two-seater sofa rested against one wall, and a gas fire set in an antique coloured pine surround sat facing it. The walls were also painted in magnolia apart from the one with the fireplace. That had been papered with a mix of black and gold flowers repeatedly growing up the wall. The polished wood floor had a large rug in the middle, full of beiges and browns that blended in with the room. The window ran the length of the wall facing Ian, looking across the road to MI9's technologically advanced monitoring base that he'd been in two days earlier.

"So, how are you?" Emma asked as she passed Ian a Preston North End mug. It was a favourite of Simon Peterson, Eric's dad, but it was as in-joke that Ian was always given one as he was more of a rugby fan and had stated on many occasions that he hated most things to do with football.

Ian smiled at the mug. "Not bad, but I think it's you I should be asking that question to."

Emma let out a short snort of a laugh. "And how do you think I am?"

"Answering a question with a question isn't fair." Ian cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry, it's a natural form of defence." Emma replied, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

Ian took a small sip of coffee as he waited.

"It's not been easy." Emma started, staring at her own cup as if the story of the past few days would be replayed on the shimmering circular screen. "I know he's not dead, but it's still not easy."

"He's not dead."

She raised her head to look at his eyes. "Positive."

"Positive." Ian replied, a slight smile on his face.

"And you know where he is?"

"No," He held up a hand. "And we're still looking."

"OK." Her head dropped again.

"We've got the best there is on the planet, you know that as well as anyone, and they're doing all they can."

"I know, but I'd rather be there, looking and searching."

"It's better to leave them to it, and not let emotions muddy the results."

Emma smiled at tiny bit. "The best are at it eh?"

"Yes, Sergeant Cockburn's checking the stuff we found in the alley."

"Cock-up's a Sergeant?" She looked shocked and pleased.

"Yes." Ian knew she was deflecting again. "He's checked the weapon that shot Tom, and it's a transportation device." Ian explained. "It sent him to a ship that was in orbit."

"And Eric?"

"We don't know."

"Yes but they must have sent him to the same place."

"Captain..." He stopped himself from using the formal rank and name. "Lanky says that they didn't fire the weapon at Eric, something else happened."

"Like what."

"We don't know, but have you checked to see if your Kylapitar is still here?"

"Yes, I did that first, thinking they'd come for it."

"I was hoping they'd try that." Ian's shoulder slumped. "All I can assume is that Tom used one to get off the ship."

"And gave it to Eric for safe keeping, and he's used it to get away."

"That's the only other option that makes sense."

Emma thought for a second, clinging onto this new hope. "And we can't track them can we?"

"Not - yet." Ian replied slowly, knowing that it was another one of those tasks that he had in hand.

"But you will be able to?" Emma asked, a more determined look on her face.

"You know me very well Emma, better than most, and know I will do everything in my power for my god-son."

Emma let out a short huff of a laugh. "It's funny how things come about, and how some things come back to haunt you."

"This won't haunt you."

"Is that an Ian Jackson promise?"

Ian took in a deep breath, looked Emma directly in the eyes before replying. "Yes, a 110% certified Ian Jackson promise."

"That's good enough for me then boss." She smiled, weakly.

"You've not called me that for many years."

Games.

"Now, now Aisha, you know I'll find out, I do have my ways." Mrs.Preetam held up her dough covered fingers and wiggled them teasingly. This was a threat that she'd used on many occasions, and once or twice had actually made contact, leaving gloopy fingerprints all over Aisha's face. "Come here and let me use my special face paint." She started to walk towards Aisha, who giggled as she leapt from her stool on the other side of the kitchen work area and circled around it in the opposite direction to Mrs.Preetam. Both ladies giggled as they circled the table, back and forth, cat and mouse, the hunter moving one way, the prey mirroring the movement and keeping as far away as possible.

"I think I'd like to know how you know about this Eric, as well." The winy voice of Nerith made them both jump. Having followed Aisha down to the kitchen, he listened from behind the kitchen door, hearing most of what had been said. He decided that it was about time he made himself known to everyone, and to see if he could find out what was really going on.

"Nerith, it's very rude to listen to a private conversation." Said Mrs.Preetam in a stern voice, "And I've told you before that you're not welcome down here."

"Ah, but I have full security access," he reached into a pocket and produced a small plastic card, and then wiggled it in Mrs.Preetam's face. "So wherever I need to go, I can go, and there isn't a single thing you can do about it." A smug grin slipped onto his face.

Mrs.Preetam snatched the card out of his hand, too quickly for him to react. "Everyone has one of these." And she flashed hers that was on a cord around her neck. She kept glancing up from the photo to him. "Everyone I know always complains about their photo on these types of things, you know like your planetary passports." She wiggled it back at him now. "And they all say how ugly they look in them." She looked again at it, and then passed it to Aisha. "But even the camera couldn't make you any worse. In fact, it's actually made you look a bit nicer." Mrs.Preetam took the card from Aisha as she stifled a snigger, before passing it back to Nerith, who wasn't at all amused.

"Never mind about that, I still have Full security access." He thumped his hand hard on the kitchen worktop, trying to stamp his authority on the proceedings. He instantly regretted it, as it hurt, but he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing his pain. He took in a deep breath and in as strong a voice as he could muster he continued. "So I can be here, if and whenever I want." His mouth smiled, but his eyes told a completely different story.

"Well maybe I should ask my father if he could remove the full security access, on the grounds of personal privacy." Aisha hoped that this might be enough to make him scurry away.

It didn't.

"So, we're off to see 'Eric' are we?" Nerith was also trying to trip Aisha, but was nowhere near as good as Mrs.Preetam.

"No, as you will have heard, I have just been talking privately to Mrs.Preetam about the fact that I am off to Sunchara's for a girly sleep-over" Aisha explained through slightly gritted teeth. She was angry, but still very much in control.

"Yes she did", added Mrs.Preetam, "And I was just making up a few midnight snacks for the girls." She stopped for a split second as a plan formed to get rid of Nerith. "I'm sure Aisha wouldn't mind you tagging along with the girls, all in the name of security of course" she said with a slightly sarcastic tone. "You wouldn't mind having Nerith there with all the other girls at all, would you dear?" she tapped Aisha's foot with her own to help her understand the plan.

"Oh – oh, erm yes," Aisha continued, looking from Mrs.Preetam to Nerith, knowing she should carry on the set-up. "We're going to be doing each others makeup and hair. You look like you could do with a good facial" Aisha walked round the worktop to Nerith and reached up to his hair "and the condition of your hair is terrible, very greasy". She squirmed slightly as she touched it, realising that maybe she'd gone a little too far with this act. Aisha swallowed hard, and carefully looked at her fingers, expecting to see them covered in thick slimy grease.

Thankfully, their plan worked. "No, no, it's alright" Nerith squirmed out of her grasp, "I think I'll leave it this time, but I am watching you, Princess," He pointed a finger at her and held it there for a second as he backed away. As he reached the door he turned towards the Cook. "And I'll be keeping a close eye on you as well Mrs.Preetam." With that he spun round and bolted through the door.

"And if I get a full hazardous suit on and a pressure washer," Aisha mumbled to herself, "I'll be washing you, you greasy, sniveling little....."

"Aisha, don't be rude" Mrs.Preetam stopped the princess before she could finish her thoughts. "Young Ladies don't use words like that"

"Who said I was a lady?" and there was a moments silence before they both burst out laughing again.

Nerith stopped at the top of the stairs, and started to formulate a plan to catch Aisha. He knew that she was lying, he could sense it. "I will be watching you Princess, very, very closely."

#

# The Rights of the Wronged

The door of the cell opened. Eric and Skaler looked at the stocky man that filled most of the opening's width. They looked at each other, and then back at this powerful bulk of a man.

"Hi" said Eric in an uncertain way, not really knowing what to say, but thought he'd at least be civil.

The boys were still met with silence and they looked at each other again.

Skaler shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe he's giving us the silent treatment to make us crack", and gave his hardest stare back.

"Are you going to take us somewhere, or something?" asked Eric. He was starting to feel a little uneasy as to why this bull of a man was just standing there.

"Or is it a full old fashioned method of interrogation for us hardened criminals," Skaler smacked his fist into his opened hand a couple of times. "Because we were caught stealing old Muscle-swells apples." Skaler continued with a fake official voice, wagging his finger at Eric "This may seem like a petty offence to you young man, but this sort of crime only leads to bigger ones, where you will end up being incarcerated for a very, very long time." He started to snigger at his mocking, and Eric raised a weak and very worried smile, but kept his eyes firmly fixed on the figure in the doorway.

"Shut it, funny boy." Janosh said as he stepped into the room and closed the door, checking that there was no-one around outside before he did so. Double the problem, he thought.

"Eric" Janosh looked at him as he said his name, then turned to the other occupant of the cell, "and......" He raised one eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

"Skaler," he answered, then quickly added "sir" to show a little respect, for once. Skaler didn't know why he had said that, but the person that now stood in front of him looked quite friendly, but also had a powerful edge just simmering below the surface that Skaler had the uneasy feeling could explode at any moment, causing untold amounts of destruction.

"Eric and Skaler", Janosh rolled their names round, thinking over his plan. "The drop sheet says you were caught stealing fruit from a shop on the main street."

"But, sorry, Sir" Eric tried to interrupt, "I was just trying to help pick up the apples and saw my trainers that he'd stolen from me after he'd mugged me." Eric pointed across the cell, but never took his eyes off Janosh.

"Which I have said sorry for," Skaler pleaded with open arms, but he also kept his gaze on the Security chief. "And I've given your trainers back to you now."

"Alright I get the idea." Janosh stopped the two of them. "You're a habitual thief who lives on the street," he nodded slightly at Skaler, then at Eric, "And you're......." he contemplated his next words carefully before he said them. "yes, you're completely innocent."

"Well yes" added Eric, surprised.

"Actually, I'd like to argue against one point." Skaler started.

"Which is?" Janosh's voice was firm, and both boys knew that it was teetering on the edge of being nice, about to be pushed over.

Eric finally broke his stare, and turned to Skaler. He was getting angry at him now, as he didn't want to upset this person. "Skaler!" he reprimanded.

Skaler didn't need any encouragement, as he knew himself. "Well, OK, thinking about it, I am what you said, sorry to interrupt, sir, please carry on." With that Skaler slumped back against the wall of the cell, folding his arms across his chest as he realised that his whole life had been summed up in one sentence.

"I have a problem" Janosh started, "and I'm now going to have to use both of you, which might not be a bad thing, thinking about it." He looked at Eric then at Skaler.

Janosh was making sure in his own mind, what he was about to ask them to do was something they were willing and able to do. He'd seen it in the eyes of his comrades so many times before. They'd been preparing for missions for weeks, and when it all came down to it, the fear would appear in their eyes. It was nothing obvious, just a very slight comprehension that they may be captured or even killed; and it was always the eyes which gave them away. It was the look that would cause a momentary hesitation at the wrong time, which would easily be enough to let the enemy strike.

He looked into the eyes of these two young boys, and saw no fear; they were too young to know death, too young to see any harm that could come their way. Maybe this plan would work after all.

"Right, I'm Janosh Actflor, the Chief of Security," he started and then took one final deep breath and a short shake of the head, "and what I'm about to ask you two to do is probably the most secret mission I've ever sent men off into the field to complete." Janosh took a slow breath to let that first part sink in, and then carried on.

Eric and Skaler sat in silence on their respective beds, within the confines of the little grey cell as Janosh revealed his plan to them. He'd talked for about 5 minutes before he finally stopped. The boys looked on incredulously, not believing what they were hearing. They definitely didn't believe what they had to do. And Skaler in particular was shocked to learn who he had been sharing a cell with.

It was he who finally asked the first question. He turned to Eric, "So you're from another galaxy, that's like way on the other side of the universe or something, nowhere near here?"

"So it seems, but how did you find this out?" Eric asked Janosh.

"The Rexon are not the only alien race out here that we are 'allies' with." And he drew the speech marks in the air to emphasise the ironic use of the word. "I think you'd be quite surprised who we are friends with."

"Oh" was all that Skaler could say.

"So?", and Janosh realised that this was the moment that he'd been dreading, the one where he had to ask for their help, "are you two up for the mission, or not?"

"Erm, well yes, if it means I can save Tom." Answered Eric, who looked quite anxious for it all to start, especially considering where they currently sat.

Janosh now turned his attention to Skaler, who had gone very quiet, and sat rocking back and forth on the bed, staring at a small spot of unpainted floor, as if he was willing it to open up and swallow him whole.

"On one hand," He held out his left hand and looked at the palm. "You're saying that I've got a terrible and miserable life ahead of me, which will last not too long." He looked at Janosh who simply nodded in agreement to Skaler's summing up of his bleak future, Skaler flopped out the right hand, "Whereas, on the other hand, I can do the right thing, face certain death at a very early age, and die a martyr or maybe there's a teeny weeny minute chance I'll be a hero. Mmmmm, let me think," he looked from hand to hand, as if he had a crystal ball in each, his varied futures being shown through clouds of mist. He finally stopped weighing up the options, "I think I'll......" he delayed the answer for one more second, "oh, go on then I'll save the world."

Janosh wasn't so sure that this wise cracker was a good thing to have around, but he couldn't release Eric without Skaler giving the game away. Also, Janosh knew that Skaler's natural talents could be very useful.

Spy

Nerith waited behind an almost closed on the first floor. He could see along the passage in front of him, and across into the Princess's room. He knew she was up to something, and he wanted revenge for earlier that day, and he snorted his disgust as he thought of Aisha and Mrs.Preetam.

You're getting wiser, young Princess. He thought to himself as he waited patiently. You seem to be anticipating my actions, and that will only make you a better adversary, more of a challenge for my far superior intellect. He smiled as he reveled in his own self-worth. And I have my special friends, who can help in some extremely devious and interesting ways. He looked down and patted the pocket of his jacket.

It wasn't long before his patience paid off. Aisha appeared at the top of the stairs and stopped. She looked around.

probably checking to see if I'm following her, Nerith thought as he stifled a small snigger, pleased that he was fooling her so easily. From the distance between them, he could see that she was carrying a reasonably large bag, probably full of food for her alleged party. Quite a lot of midnight snacks for a simple sleepover, Princess.

What was I thinking? Aisha hoisted her booty up with both hands. She'd left the kitchen with a small amount of snacks, but had then slipped through a secret door into the maze of passages within the walls to gather the remainder of the food from behind the store wall. Aisha hadn't realised that she'd placed so much out there. She had to take it all, as any she left may then spoil and attract vermin, leading to a potential catastrophic outcome, whereby the whole system of passages could be found.

Nerith watched in silence through the tiny slit in the door as Aisha turned from the top of the stairs and dashed back to her room. She never noticed the door opposite slowly closing as she passed. Nerith had worked the move so well over the years that no-one had ever caught him, including the Chief of Security. He could time it so that the person coming along the passage would always think the door was closed, and he'd move the door with such a smooth movement and so quietly that they'd never register it had been open in the first place. Once past, he could open the door again, and watch them as they went on their way.

He listened for Aisha's door closing. It took a couple of seconds, and Nerith ran through the actions Aisha was completing in his mind. Place the bag on the floor. Get out your key. Unlock the bedroom door. Now you're looking up and down the passage once more to check for me, it's safe, you enter the bedroom and, he waited half a second for the only audible sound, 'click', the door is now locked. He knew what was going on, he'd seen it often enough when people were trying to hide something, and he was so confident that his instincts were correct that he allowed himself the briefest of smiles as he timed the closing of Aisha's door to perfection.

He carefully opened his door, using very slow and delicate movements. Unless someone was actually looking at the door, no-one would see him. He had to do it this way, to ensure his plan hadn't been compromised. The coast is clear, and he slipped out of his hiding place, and scurried into the adjacent bedroom to Aisha's. This one was used by the Princess's friends when she had a sleepover in the Palace. It had an interconnecting door, so that the girls could pass between the two unnoticed.

He turned the handle, and found it to be unlocked, as usual. He was amazed that so many rooms within the palace were unlocked, a severe lack of security being shown. Anyone could use the rooms for spying, or to hide in, as I am doing, right now. Nerith crept across the room to the adjoining door. Crouching down, he was able to peer through the keyhole, and see that the princess was on the far side of the room, heading towards her wardrobes. She'd placed her bundle of food down on the bed.

Nerith carefully pulled what looked like a pen from his pocket. About 15 centimetres long and 1 centimetre in diameter, it weighed a lot more than it looked, as if it was made of lead. He looked at it in the palm of his hand, and stroked its length. The metallic surface felt warm and soothing, and it glowed fleetingly with an eerie blue radiance as his finger ran along it. Nerith wondered if the device knew it was being touched and reveled in this affection by producing a small explosion of colour which chased the warmth of the user's touch.

Since being mysteriously left in his private quarters, he'd used it on a few occasions, but he still enjoyed this tiny fanfare of colour. It was if it wanted his company, as if it was something that liked him, needed him. This was a feeling that Nerith couldn't remember ever having before.

He snapped out of his mini-trance and re-focused on the task at hand, to catch the Princess. He pointed the tip of the device towards the lock, and pressed the small button protruding from the smooth surface, at the opposite end. A small burst of blue light and sparkles flowed from the device and into the keyhole. It swirled and danced around for a second, before he heard a click. This amazing little gift had unlocked the door.

He waited silently, to see if the Princess had heard the lock being picked.

When he heard no footsteps he slowly turned the door handle, and quietly opened the door a fraction to peer into Aisha's bedroom. Nerith checked that the princess was still in her dressing room. He took a small breath, and held it, listening as he checked again, before quickly darting through the door, quietly closing it behind himself, before scurrying over to hide behind the huge curtains that ran the length of the left hand side of the room. They were floor to ceiling heavyweight maroon velvet curtains split into four pieces to make it easier for anyone to close or open. Nerith hid within the folds and pleats, and created a tiny gap between a pair of curtains.

From here he could see the entrance to the dressing room, but not within. Nerith could hear Aisha digging around in her wardrobe, and he pushed his head forward to try to get a better viewing angle. This meant that he was creating a small bulge in the middle of the curtains, but as he needed to know what she was doing, it was worth the risk.

He whipped his head back as Aisha suddenly appeared in the dressing room doorway, but did so too quickly and banged his head against the wall, the shock of making a noise and the pain from the impact made him drop his lock-pick, making a second heavy thudding noise. "Damn!" he whispered inaudibly, as the pen had rolled out from under the curtain, into full view. He froze everything, even holding his breath as he knew that he'd broken the first two rules of surveillance, never make a sound, and leave no evidence.

Aisha put the rucksack she'd retrieved from the back of her wardrobe behind the dressing room door. She felt she was being watched. It was only a feeling at the pit of her stomach, but had so far put it down to what she was doing. Yet, she had definitely heard something and it had come from near the windows.

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for anything, wondering what had made the sound as she stepped slowly out of the dressing room and went over to the windows. Her mind worked in overtime as the adrenalin pumped through her young body. She had started to think that it was probably just a bird that had inadvertently flown into the windows, as they had been cleaned earlier that day, when Aisha stopped suddenly as she saw a strange object on the floor near the curtains. She picked it up, amazed at how heavy such a small object was, and also how warm it was. She looked in amazement as it glowed in her hand.

Where has this come from? She thought as she looked at the shimmering blue device. She gently stroked it and rolled it over and the next question crept into her mind, what is it?

Aisha decided that it was definitely worth further investigation and she slipped it into her pocket. She suddenly wondered if it had been dropped there by an intruder, and as she'd only just heard it, and hadn't noticed it being there before, maybe the intruder was still in the room. Aisha immediately leapt at the curtains, lunging with both hands out in front of her, hoping to hit someone who might still be hiding there. To her dismay, her hands only hit the wall behind.

"Excuse me Princess, may I ask what you are doing?"

Aisha was startled and turned to see a maid standing in the doorway. "Oh, yes, this must look very weird, Florn, but I'm, erm, just practicing my self defence on the curtain" and smiled at the maid quite unconvincingly.

"Oh, Okay maam" the maid was definitely not going to argue with someone acting so strange. "I was just coming to turn your bed maam, do you still need me to do so?"

"No, thank you Florn." Aisha answered, wanting to get her out of the room so that she could carry on investigating. "In fact, I'm going to a friends for a sleepover, so you may have the rest of the day at your leisure."

"Thank you Princess." Florn curtsied before backing out of the door.

Aisha glanced at her watch "Oh No!" She only had 15 minutes to get the last of her things together and then head back to the Police Station's store room. She decided that speed was of the essence and dashed back into the dressing room, collecting the bundle of food from her bed as she raced by.

It's all Greek to me.

"Got it!" Sergeant "Cock-up" Cockburn exclaimed. He was in the centre of the large holographic suite in the base of the quarry near Nether Kellett. "Thank you NASA." He said to no-one in particular.

At that moment, the door opened and he turned to see Ian Jackson pop his head round the door. "You wanted me?"

"Perfect timing as ever Boss."

Ian rolled his head to one side as he stepped into the room. It was set out to be a parkland area. Large ancient oak and silver birch trees surrounded them, with small explosions of bushes sprouting out of the ground at various points into the distance. The sun shone, twinkling it's light through the slightly swaying trees. This always made Ian smile; he could never suffer from the Seasonal Affected Disorder syndrome (SAD), as he could always boot up a program to show a sunny day. He was always amazed at how lifelike it had become in there. The technology was being continually developed by the best the gaming industry had.

Charlie Cockburn was sat at picnic bench in the middle of a clearing, basking in the mid-day sunshine. Ian knew that this was the central control unit, which was required to create the hologram images from the centre out, as well as the outside in, so that it gave a full 360 degree sensation for anyone, no matter where they were in the suite. The central unit was always there, and was always disguised, it could be a burnt out shell of a car, or even a rock, but there was always something in that location.

"Playing again?" Ian walked over. It was a little joke he had with Cock-up, as the Sergeant was under specific orders to do just that with any alien technology, as part of his everyday job.

"Yes, I've been testing the Beam-Me on some bits." He said as he pointed the small device at a mug that was sat on the top of the bench. It disappeared and then reappeared on the ground a few metres away. He then picked up a tablet device and tapped on the screen, then nodded to a box that was on the far end of the bench. It had a small satellite dish on one end, and was pointing at the position where the mug had been. . "This scanner has been through all the various spectrums of light from the longest wavelengths we can think of, right up to the shortest."

"Infrared to Ultra Violet?"

"Actually, it's gone further than that at, and at both ends of the spectrum." Cock-up was impressed with Ian's understanding of Physics.

"And you found?"

"It was at the shortest end, far into the Gamma section," He looked up at Ian, "Same as your mate in NASA found, where I got the best results."

"Results? Plural?"

"Yes, that was the strange thing, to start with, but it makes sense." Charlie tried to explain. "Look, this gun is just a transporter." He picked up the weapon and pointed it at another mug he had placed on the top of the bench.

Ian noticed a stack of similar mugs on the seat next to Charlie, all lined ready and waiting for their call to action, like soldiers in the trenches.

He pulled trigger and the mug disappeared, and then reappeared near the first one a few metres away. Only this one hadn't altered its altitude, and was still a metre off the ground. It dropped and smashed.

"Oops!"

"You know they don't call you Cock-up for nothing." Ian replied.

"Ah, yes, I've not quite got the hang of this thing yet." He shrugged. "But look!" He turned the Tablet computer round for Ian. The screen showed a dashboard of instrument readings. A series of timers sat across the top; below them was a set of wavelengths, flowing up and down, and lots of numbers scrolled up the left hand side.

"So what does all that mean?"

"Yes, sorry boss." Cock-up replied. "That shows how small the wavelength is, measured in picometers, which is smaller than an atom."

Ian nodded, finding this sort of thing fascinating. "But why gamma rays."

"Good question." Cock-up answered excitedly. We normally see Gamma rays after some nuclear event, as it decays, like a bomb, or during nuclear fission." He explained, nodding his head, his hands described the events. "It's virtually instantaneous, and very difficult to see, unless you have a sensor pointing at the right spot at the moment the action occurs."

Ian felt a little jaded, knowing that it would be difficult to know where an event would take place, and he wouldn't get the resources to check everywhere around the whole planet. "So, how does that help?"

Cock-up had a twinkle in his eye as he knew Ian was hooked. "NASA could detect the gamma radiation from the orbiting ship, as it was there at the time of the scans." He tapped the bottom wavy line on the Tablet computer. "That's this one."

Ian nodded, agreeing with the explanation.

"And because I had a scanner pointing at the mug when it was being beamed, I can capture those readings." He tapped the middle wavelength on the tablet.

"Yes." Ian understood so far, looking at the wavy line on the screen. "But what about those wavy lines?"

"Exactly." Cock-up laughed. "As you can see the information to the right of the top line is the gamma radiation reading," he traced his finger across the tablets surface. "It states that it was a wavelength of 8.37 picometers, so quite a long length, but that's not the important number."

Ian scrutinized the tablet a little closer. He rubbed his eyes at it contained a lot of data for a 10 inch screen. He reached into the inside of his suit jacket. "Old age, it's a killer in the end." He smiled as he drew out a long oval and maroon coloured cylinder.

"Ooh, what's that?" Cock-up asked, intrigued.

"Ahhhh, this is a very magical device." He flicked open the little clasp and removed an item from within. "With these, I can see smaller items clearly." And he put on his glasses.

Cock-up groaned.

"Right, let's see." Ian moved in closer once more. His aided vision could make out the tiny pieces of information. "Is that a time?"

"Yes, well done, and it shows that at 0.018 seconds, so was very quick."

Ian cast his eyes down the screen, looking at the data next to the other two waves. "And those are a lot longer."

"Yes, the top ones are alpha waves." Cock-up explained. "These can be positive or negative as they exclude or include atoms over a period of time, and it's usually 4 atoms at a time."

"Not too sure I understand, but that's not the point at the moment." Ian replied. "And that says 26.47 seconds."

"Yes Alpha waves are thousands of times longer in their decay, so can be traced for a relatively long time."

"Excellent, and the bottom one is?"

"Beta waves. The neutrons are pinged out of the atom as it decays, one at a time."

"So that's 4 times slower?"

"Nope, it's to the power of 4 times slower."

"Oh wow, so that's..." Ian knew Cock-up could do the math in his head.

"490925.6968 seconds."

"Quite a few then." Ian sarcastically replied. "Which is how many minutes?" Ian wanted to give him this moment, after finding something so immense.

"8182.094946 minutes." Cock-up beamed, "136.3682491, hours, roughly speaking."

Ian laughed, and then thought about what this would mean. "So, as long as we can scan the planet every 100 to 120 hours for beta waves, then we'll be able to at least see where they've been."

"Yep."

"Can we track it?" Ian asked, knowing what the answer was.

"Not yet."

Ian smiled, as he knew that Cock-up would have started on answering that very question.

Patience.

Nerith breathed a small sigh of relief when Aisha dashed away. The maid's sudden appearance had been enough for him to slowly and quietly shuffle to his left, round the corner of the wall and into the window recess. This meant that he was clearly on view to anyone outside of the palace, but he was away from the inner curtains Aisha had leapt against.

He was hoping Aisha would only complete a cursory look for an intruder, and was more than intrigued to hear Aisha dash across the room and back into her dressing room. He so wished he could see what was going on. A question popped into his mind. Why had she stopped looking so quickly? The only answer he could think was that time was short, but why? She wasn't normally put off that easily and if she had two attributes that he admired, they were that she was courageous and quite thorough.

Nerith waited for 10 minutes, intently listening to every creak and groan of the floorboards around the Palace. He listened until the room had become silent, then peered stealthily out from behind the curtain, looking towards the dressing room, as that was where he believed Aisha had gone. He hadn't heard her coming back out, and also, quite surprisingly, she'd made very little sound herself from within there. Are you now hiding in there? Are you now watching me? Waiting to see who was there? The thoughts enticed him. It was exactly what he would have done but he also knew that she wasn't anywhere near as good as him at surveillance. He could now see that the dressing room door was open enough to be able to see about one third of the room within.

Nerith slunk slowly along the rear of the curtains, making sure that he moved them as little as possible, his wiry frame being a great asset at times like these. He peered out from the other side of the curtains, nearest to the entrance into the room. From this viewing angle, the door of the dressing room was closed enough to hide him. He crept over to the bedroom door. The maid had left it unlocked on seeing Aisha in her room. He opened it slowly and slipped out into the corridor. Nerith waited a second before rapping his knuckles on the now half open door, calling out "Princess Aisha, are you there?"

Nerith hoped his plan had worked. If Aisha hadn't seen him, he could then enter and search the room without her knowing he'd been there all the time. "Princess, may I enter?" he said as he walked into the room.

There was no answer.

He crossed over to the windows and swished back the curtains "Are you hiding from me Princess?" He did so to cover any tracks he may have left and to throw Aisha off the scent if she was indeed now spying on him.

He turned and looked at the dressing room door. "Oh I see, are you in there Princess?", and he casually walked across the room. He knocked again on this door and lowered his voice to a more normal tone. "Princess, are you decent?"

No sound came from within.

He had to give her a lot of credit, as she was seemingly very good at being so quiet. He slowly opened the door, and saw nothing out of place. Nerith carefully looked around the dressing room, and saw that the wardrobe doors were fully closed and that there was nowhere else to hide. He stopped and wondered if he'd been wrong and had missed her leaving the room. His mind raced over everything that had happened in the last few minutes. Playing it back in his mind he was 100% certain that he'd heard Aisha enter the dressing room, but also certain that she never came back out.

So, she was either in this room or..... It was then that a thought suddenly hit him. He looked across the dressing room at the mirrored doors, and his face was one of both shock at his realisation, but it changed to excitement at what this meant.

Aisha had used another means of exit.

Deception.

Janosh knew he had to do the wrong thing, to do the right thing.

Breaking these two out of prison was the wrong thing to do, especially as he'd be the one who had to tidy all the paperwork up, and get it past the Judge in the morning. These were all the trivial things that ran through his mind as he stood at the front desk and signed the release book. He grabbed the two envelopes of personal objects the Duty Sergeant had pulled out of the storage racks behind his desk.

Janosh was quite pleased with himself, as he'd only returned the envelopes a short while ago, but there'd been a shift change and thus no-one suspected anything. He kept a stern look on his face as he quickly explained that all charges had been dropped, as he'd been and talked to all concerned.

He'd actually been lucky, as he'd been passing the entrance of the station a short while earlier when Mr.Kebblewell came in to complete his statement. Janosh took him to one side and explained who the girl was. That was all it needed, as Mr.Kebblewell quickly apologised for his rudeness to the Royal family. He was a loyalist in every sense, and told Janosh of his younger days when he served Harvin's father as a soldier in many battles on the other planets in the galaxy, even showing him a war wound of a huge scar where some shrapnel from an exploding tank had ripped through his platoon; he was the lucky one. Janosh understood exactly how he felt, and added that his gratitude and assistance would be passed directly to the King.

Walking back to the cells, he went over the remainder of the plan. He checked and double checked every last detail, turning it around, looking at it from all the various angles of all involved. Eric had helped confirm the details of the plan, spotting what was required by everyone, and thoroughly understanding the overall strategy. Janosh admired the young man, and was starting to believe what he'd been told about him. Having spent a little longer discussing it all, they all came to the conclusion that they could do no more and were satisfied that, even though there were always variables and assumptions in any plan, they had missed nothing.

Janosh reached the last corridor and nodded to the Constable on duty to let him through the heavy door. This gave him a moment to stop and think of his biggest concern. He was asking 3 teenagers to complete the tasks that lay before them.

Suddenly, a huge explosion shook the building. Dust fell from cracks that had appeared in the stations walls and roof. Janosh stopped; alert and ready for whatever may come next. The rumbling stopped and in the distance he could hear alarms going off in buildings and vehicles. He knew instantly that it wasn't a direct attack on the station, as he'd first suspected, but it was within half a kilometre of where he stood.

He raced back to the front desk, all thoughts of freeing the two boys gone for the moment. "What's happened?" he had to shout over the pandemonium and confusion that was all around.

"We're getting calls of an explosion in a house on Greygone Street Sir" the Sergeant replied above the din. "We don't know if it's a bomb or just gas. We've sent uniforms round to have a look and....." The radio crackled on his chest. The sergeant pressed the button its side, "3-6, 3-6 are you there yet, what's happened? I repeat, 3-6-are-you-there-yet?"

He released the call button and was greeted with static for an agonisingly drawn out couple of seconds before a crackly voice came back through the speaker. "Sarge, well it's..." there was a pause. Everyone had stopped to listen and could hear the panting breath of the officer at the scene. "Oh my god, half the street has gone, I repeat half-the-street has been blown up." He panted a couple of times before he continued, whispering expletives as he made his way through the carnage. "Send down all the services, and make sure it's lots of them. There's bits of," suddenly another voice screamed down the radio,

"HELP ME! MY HUSBAND WAS IN THERE, PLEASE NOW?"

Janosh could comprehend the scene, as he'd seen this many times during his military service. He visualised this desperate woman pleading with the officer,

"Yes, Madam, I'm just relaying to the station that we need to bring down all the services, they will be here..."

"NO NOW, PLEASE, PLEASE!"

"Madam, they will be here very quickly, but I need to relay all this back to the station, sorry,"

"Please help me, Arran, oh no, Arran" her voice withered as her energy drained with the shock.

"Sorry Sarge, send down everyone, there are huge chunks of houses everywhere. I'm about 100 metres away from ground zero, and the rubble will make it difficult for the services to get any closer, we need assistance from as many uniforms as possible if we want to get a passage cleared to......"

There was a moments silence before another explosion ripped through the station. Light fittings rattled and everybody instinctively flinched, waiting for the buildings next move.

"3-6, OFFICER 3-6," he waited a second. No reply, "CARN!, ANSWER ME, ARE-YOU-THERE?" The sergeant shouted the question into his radio. The crowd of officers around the front desk waited anxiously to hear anything come back on the radio.

"Sorry Sarge, I think that was the gas main, I heard it squeal a second before it went up, so tried to get people clear. I repeat, I think that was only the gas main, oh my god, sorry Sarge, gotta go, get the services down here now, I've just seen a lady wandering around all dazed about 80 metres ahead whose arm has been blown off at the elbow." Carn's breathing had become erratic and everyone realised that he was still relaying messages back to the station whilst running over to the lady in question. "I'll do what I can, just get everyone down here now."

The radio went silent for a second. "I think the first one was a bomb."

"Right, Ladies and gents, you heard the man", Janosh ushered the group around him; "Let's get as many bodies as possible down there now to help out in any way that you can. Fren?" he said to a female Sergeant who'd appeared out of breath from off the streets, "You get down there and take charge till I can get there myself. Get it clear of people, make it safe, and clear a path for the other services, thanks." he added a light smile in appreciation of the help she'd be giving, knowing what it would look like. He'd been in these situations before, but as a soldier creating the havoc and destruction, not as a policeman having to deal with all the mayhem that came as a result of it.

"Sarge, get on the phones with you and you" Janosh pointed to two other officers, "get anyone and everyone down there now, you know the drill. Ring round and get the off duty officers in, I think this will be a long night."

With that he headed back to where he was originally going. He knew that lives were at stake in the aftermath of the bomb, but the whole galaxy was at risk if he didn't complete his mission with the two boys in cell 3A16.

A Friend in Need

Eklan sat in her large quarters. Her ship was attached to the side of K'nashs's, and to any passing spacecraft would look as if it was part of the main ship, as one half of her vessel snuggled up to the larger ship when docked. This allowed for more points of access between the various decks in both ships, to allow for munitions, scientific research and catering facilities to be moved directly from one to the other.

Her personal quarters on her stellar class ship sat towards the top, just below the command deck. It was 3 metres by 4 metres, and had windows along one of the longer sides, which showed the stars and planets around Ansolon. This side had a desk along it, looking out. She had a large sofa that doubled as her bed along the shorter side, and one corner had her en-suite shower room. It was her own space, and no-one, except for K'nash could disturb her in there.

That was the reason why she was at her desk, tapping furiously at the keys, searching the communication logs until she found what she was looking for. It then took a little more digging and a little hacking before she tapped on a highlighted call button.

A few seconds passed as she waited for the recipient to open their end of the communication.

"Nerith?" She asked.

"Yes, who is this please?" He kept his voice as light as possible, not knowing who the caller was on his secret Rexon communication device he'd hidden in the inner lining of his jacket. He was worried that Janosh would find out, so by being as vague as he could he would be able to deny everything, stating that he simply found it somewhere in the palace grounds and was going to hand it in.

"Hello, I'm Eklan, commander of the Stellar Class ship Vegab, under the Supreme Commander K'nash's leadership." She hated having to say that, but needed to make sure this human understood who she was.

"Oh hello," Nerith replied feeling a little more at ease, "How may I help you today?"

"Ah, well that's the thing, K'nash has been saying such wonderful things about what you've been doing for us, and well to put it quite simply, I'm here to help you." She thought flattery would be the best course of action.

"Oh, well, that's so kind." Nerith beamed his wide creepy smile at the thought that the great Rexon leader K'nash himself had been so impressed with him. "But I don't think I need.." He stopped himself before he finished his sentence. He did need some help, and he knew the Rexon were far more powerful, and had far better electronic systems on board. The communication device he held in his hand told him that, as only the largest cities on Ansolon and the most affluent had telephonic communicators. "Actually, there is something you might be able to help me with."

"And that is?"

"Does your ship have the ability to look underground?"

"Do you mean scanning facilities?"

"Yes." Nerith didn't want to seem like a fool, not after he'd received such praise. "Well, I believe there are tunnels under the palace, and I'd like to see if there is anyone using them."

"Your wish is my command." She tapped at her computer, and a satellite image of capital city of Killnjar appeared on her screen. She zoomed in a couple of times until she had the Palace in the centre. She stopped for a fraction of a second, wondering if she could simply fire a missile at the centre of the grounds, and blow it all away. Eklan shook her head to dismiss the thoughts. "OK, I've got a picture of the Palace up and..." She tapped the top corner of the screen, changing the image from a picture to a scan. The inside of the walls were lined in a light yellow, the outside walls were blue. Red and purple dots crawled all over, as if she had painted ants and let them roam across her screen. "Right, I'm now scanning, and I'll lower the elevation."

Nerith was extremely impressed by what he was hearing.

"OK, that's the ground floor, and now I'm at minus 3 metres, I think that's the kitchens and boiler rooms that I see in blazing red."

Nerith fumed at the thought of Mrs.Preetam and the way she'd humiliated him.

"I'm now going further down, and" A moment's pause. "Yes, there are passages and tunnels, well done, I can see why K'nash regards you so highly."

Nerith beamed some more.

Eklan scanned across the screen, until she found a red dot moving at the bottom. She dragged the image up, making the dot move backwards. "There is someone heading south, just outside the Palace building itself, do you have access to the passages?"

"Not from where I am." Nerith replied.

"Which is?" Eklan asked.

"I'm in the East wing, second floor, in the main corridor." He quickly exited Aisha's room.

Another pause.

"Ah yes, I can see you."

Nerith looked up at the ceiling, thinking it would disappear and he'd see the orbiting ships.

Eklan slowly looked along the walls, near Nerith, until she found what she was looking for. "Take ten paces to the east." She directed him. "Now turn left, and there should be something there."

Nerith was looking at an iron clad dummy, showing off the aged armour of a time when battling was a far finer and more dramatic, even romantic act. He tapped the wall behind it, and heard it was solid. He rapped his knuckles further along, and within a few centimetres, it became hollow. "There."

"Have you found it?"

"Yes, thank you so much." He rapped his knuckles from the hollow to the solid a few times to confirm that he'd found the right spot.

"Excellent, well, I'm very pleased I could help you." Eklan cringed at the thought of having to be so nice to a human.

Nerith felt very smug, knowing he now had a Rexon Commander on call to do his bidding. "Well, I thank you once more, and I'll keep you informed with what I find."

Eklan wanted to keep her contact with the Leader's spy a secret for now. "K'nash will still want to contact you directly at times, as I wouldn't want to diminish the excellent work you are doing, but as he's a very important person he's asked if you could pass the information through me as well, and I'll either act on it directly, or get K'nash's approval myself to enact your request."

"Good, good." Nerith was on a high, having found an entrance to the tunnels, and had a new contact to deal with. He had never felt better.

A quiet drink.

Ian Jackson sat in the back room of home-pub that the locals affectionately called "The Dorchester." The Red Lion in Nether Kellet was what some would call cosy and quaint, but was the antithesis of the five star London Hotel. It was in a small terraced cottage, colloquially known as a two-up, two-down. The front downstairs room was used by the clientele. It was about 4 metres square, decorated in 1970's brown circles along one wall, and 1980's curves and swirls along the others. Polystyrene tiles lined ceiling, and a central plain rose had a short lead dangling from it, with a naked incandescent bulb casting its glow. Additional seating had been built along two walls, made from simple battening covered in plywood that had been painted with white gloss paint. 10 centimetres of foam had then been placed on top of these benches, and brown corded material was stapled down to hold it all in place. These made comfortable seating for one and all, and had occasionally been used as a makeshift bed when one or two of the MI9 soldiers had drunk a little too much of the home-made beers. A napoleon styled clock clicked away the beats of time as it sat on the oak mantle-piece, above a roaring log fire.

The back room had a range unit fitted into the chimney breast, and Mrs.Carlson, the landlady, always had a big pan of soup gently simmering away on the top, and a loaf of bread cooking in the oven. This was the only food she provided, but in the depths of a Lancashire winter it was very welcome respite from the wind and rain.

Ian had managed to snag the large wing backed chairs in the back room, knowing that it would be quiet in there until later in the evening when the locals came in after their evening meals. He'd partly slumped in the chair, his feet released from his standard issue walking shoes, and he waggled his toes as they warmed in the heat from the Range.

"Enjoying that?" The soft husky voice asked from behind the chair.

"Very much so Doc, come on," He continued to watch his own toes wiggle, as if he wasn't in control of them, and was in awe at the spectacle. "Perch that lovely pert tushy for a second." He patted the adjacent wing backed chair. "There's a pint on the side for you." And he pointed to a large glass filled with a dark home-brewed beer.

Doctor Heather Gaines weighed the glass for a moment before gulping down a few mouthfuls.

"Thirsty?"

"I was gagging, Handsome." She wiped the creamy froth off her top lip. "The walk up from the quarry is getting steeper every time I do it."

It's called old age." Ian smiled.

"Speak for yourself!" And she playfully punched his arm.

Ian mocked pain and rubbed his arm, but glanced around the small quiet room.

The fire crackled and popped as a vein of tree sap was licked by the flames.

"So, why the clandestine meeting?" The Doctor asked.

"When we come back from a mission off world, what sort of information do you get from your medical scans?" Ian asked, hoping he sounded casual.

Heather eyed him curiously, but still answered. "A whole range of tests produce a whole range of results." She was running through countless reasons as to why Ian was asking, but decided to wait for more information first.

"I realise that, but what specific information do you cover, like bloods, and body scans, and the like." Ian waggled his hands as he generalised. "But in lay-man terms please."

"Well we do the full spectrum of tests from unknown diseases in the blood, check for anything that may have got attached, or even inhaled." Heather's eyes narrowed. "We normally look for something that's not normal."

Ian thought for a second as he took another sip of his drink. "What about what there is already there."

"Do you mean any diseases like cancer or something?"

"That's as good an example as any."

"Well, we do the annual health checks, to make sure you're all fit enough to carry out your duties, and as you know that covers any problems, like blood pressure, blood sugars, cholesterol levels, lung capacity, hear rates, deep vein thrombosis, all the stuff that could be a problem if left unchecked." She hadn't got any answers to why he was asking, so decided to be forthright. She shuffled sideways in her seat and turned to face him. "What's up?"

"What do you mean?"

"My guess is that you're worried about something, a pain in your head, or probably..." She looked him up and down, as if giving him a personal scan.

Ian let out a laugh. "It's not me Doc."

"So who is it and what's wrong with them." She became serious. "Look if one of the gang has a problem, then it's your duty to tell me and I can get something done about it." She huffed semi-angrily. "What happens if you're on a mission, taking fire from Rexon and let's say that Brock has had a pain in his head." She shrugged, "as an example, and this turns out to be an aneurism?" She shook her head. "It goes pop and he's down in less than a second. You've now lost a gun and need to lose another to pick him up and get him home." The anger was being contained the best she could, but she knew that this could be a serious problem out in the field.

"Don't worry, it's nothing that bad," He held his palms up to try to calm her. "But I'm sort of happy that you're scanning for anything."

"You might be, but I'm not."

Ian took a deep breath, allowed the moment to bring in a draught of calm to the conversation. "I have my suspicions about one of my members having a bit of a problem, and it's nothing I can confirm yet, more of a feeling."

"I've heard about those feelings you get, and they're usually accurate."

"The old gossip grapevine." Ian let a short laugh out again. "It's something or nothing, but I now know that your scans pick up most problems, and if anyone is trying to hide something, then you'll see it."

"I will on the annual scans, but you could be talking about something I won't pick up for 12 months."

"I know, but it's something very slight at the moment, and might be nothing medical at all."

"Ian!" Her voice was raised and she realised they might be overheard so dropped down to a near whisper. "Ian! I'm sorry, but as a doctor I have a duty of care for the people in that Quarry, and as you are a leader, then you also have the same duty of care. If someone has a problem, then I have to know, even if it's using a roundabout means of getting to the person, or whispers behind someone's back, I don't care how I hear, but I do care about everyone's health and wellbeing."

He took another drink and watched the flames in the fire. He could see the answers were there, flicking up and down in the flames, with the intensity of the problem leaping from amber to red. He didn't want to say something that may not be a problem, but her argument was valid, as it was the same dilemma he was having.

"OK, one of my team is having problems, and it could be anything from alcohol shakes through to Parkinsons, or maybe a problem elsewhere that's causing them."

"How bad are they?"

"I've only noticed them very faintly, and it hasn't affected them in any noticeable way, as I've had on the range and in the simulator, and they've not missed."

"OK, so let's say Parkinsons, then it's the very early stages by the sound of it, but that could develop quite quickly." She stopped to take a drink. "You're probably right in thinking it's a minor problem, and I'll keep a check on any tags in the blood, and also for alcohol levels, just in case."

"Cheers." Ian screwed his face up.

"What else?" She could tell by his look that he had another problem.

"Do your scans look for anything unusual after a mission?"

"Yes, as I said earlier."

"And that checks for anything?"

"Yes anything from viruses to organisms that could be carbon or silicon or metallic based."

He nodded. "That's ok then."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire." She quipped. "I can tell that you're still not happy." She started to try to unravel his thoughts. "And the way you're saying this means there's a problem that I should have seen already." Her eyes narrowed as she searched the fire for answers. "So you think someone has something my tests should have picked up. It's not a disease, as we've just covered that one off for someone else. No, this was to do with something not from earth, something from off world." She knew she was talking out loud, but was doing so to keep glancing at Ian's expressions, and see if her theory was correct. "One of the Quarry gang has been off world and come back with something that isn't affecting them, as your concern would be for that, not how you asked. You wanted to know what my scans would pick up." She pointed at him. "To see if it picked up anything attached or under their skin, Aha!" She smacked her fist on the arm of the chair. "So if it's not an illness or an organism, and I presume that they know about it, the question is why come back with something they want to hide."

Ian was trying to keep his face as flat as possible, but knew he must have been putting out some signals that she was reading.

"Plus we've come here, away from the base, in a safe location to discuss it." Her eyes opened wide. "Oh my god, there's a spy in the camp, isn't there?"

Ian kept on staring at the fire, knowing that she had worked his problem out and into the open, and knowing that he had no clue as to the identity of the spy.

Tunnels.

Nerith moved the heavily armoured dummy to the side that hid the secret door. He opened it slowly, realising now that there must be a system of interconnecting passages under the palace. Looking at the walls just behind the door he recognised the construction materials used were from about 300 years earlier, which he knew was about the time when the new Palace was built. He was impressed with the deviousness of the builders, and the fact that he'd never known of the passages in all his years of sneaking and snooping. He was a little disappointed with himself that he'd not found out about them sooner, but was pleased that his new Rexon friend, Commander Eklan, had helped him.

His first priority was to investigate where the Princess had gone.

She's been gone for probably 20 minutes, and Eklan said there was someone moving south, he licked his lips and squinted his eyes at the diminished lighting, while he thought of the possibilities. She could be anywhere, by now though. He felt a twinge of anger at himself for not finding the passage sooner. But that doesn't mean that I have to stand around here doing nothing, the wiry smile appeared again as he formed the thought And while I am here, I might as well investigate where these go to.

A quick glance around to check no one was watching, and down the passage he went. There were steps every metre, making it a gradual drop which the lights barely illuminated. He'd only gone 20 metres when he came across an interconnecting passage. He could make out the sliver of light that framed a doorway about 10 metres along this new passage. He quietly crept up to this door, listening intently for any sounds, before he opened it carefully. He was now down one level, behind the stairs. Ingenious, and so very, very useful, he mused.

He was smiling quite broadly now; his heart beating a little faster as the adrenalin pumped through his body, making him tingle with excitement.

Closing the door again, he went back to the junction and headed along the original passage, trying to calculate roughly where the interconnecting passages would end up going to. He didn't have time to try all the doors he passed as there were so many of them, and he needed to keep focused on finding the Princess.

He scurried as fast and as quietly as possible, peering around corners before dashing along his way. Nerith felt his own internal compass was helping him to know roughly where he was within the Palace. It seemed as if the while house was built with a metre wide cavity, instead of the usual 10 centimetres. It didn't take too long to be under the kitchens and heading south.

Teamwork.

"What was that?" Eric asked Janosh. Both boys sat nervously on their beds, having been trapped in a cell whilst they heard and felt the explosions, not knowing what was going on.

"We don't know yet, all we do know is that an explosion has occurred about 500 metres away in a house. It may be a gas leak, we will know once the proper people have investigated it." Janosh knew it was the standard patter coming from his mouth. He daren't say too much, as he didn't know what had happened, although he knew who lived there, and assumed the worst. He also didn't want to worry the boys before they'd even started their mission.

"Look, while all this commotion is going on, we get you out. I've done all the paperwork, squared things away with everyone, so, pick up your stuff and let's go." He half smiled to himself as he'd nearly added 'soldiers' on the end of his speech, knowing that the military training was always there ready to be called upon as an automatic reaction.

He took them from the cell, to the store room where they waited for Aisha to appear from behind the secret door. She wasn't as hesitant this time; in fact it was the complete opposite. She burst through the door, scaring the living daylights out of the two boys. "What's happened?" she asked Janosh, "because it was as scary as hell down there, there was a huge boom and then the walls shook, I think a tunnel collapsed somewhere over to the east".

Janosh told her the same standard safe wording, knowing that this was being a little unfair on them. To help change the subject and focus their minds, he quickly ran through the whole plan again, adding in the changes Eric had devised. He went through it for one last time, leaving gaps as he was reciting it, so that each one could add in their parts. They didn't get it 100% right on their own, but at least two of them knew what was needed at any time. This made him feel a little better; if any one of them was captured or, his heart sank with the thought, if one was killed, their mission could still be a success.

"Right" he continued, "So you all understand how difficult a task this is going to be."

They all nodded slowly, and in silence, which confirmed his suspicions that they had all started to understand that this was more serious than anything they'd ever done before.

He looked into each of their eyes, and thankfully found no fear. He dragged a couple of rucksacks off the top shelf of a rack to his right and handed them to Eric and Skaler. "Here, these are your things that you came in with," he handed them their envelopes. "I'll go and fill a couple of these water bottles." Janosh headed to the door. "Have a good look round in here, and take whatever you think you'd need, but don't go silly, as you've got to carry it all." With that he was gone.

"Party time." Skaler said gleefully, and then straightened his face as he saw the look the other two were giving him. "Sorry."

"Get two of those, and cut off a decent length of that" Eric had spied some pocket knives and a length of rope.

"You'd better take a pair of these each as well." Aisha handed over two pairs of coveralls.

"Oh yeh, and I'm going to look like a proper lemon wearing this." Skaler let the navy blue coverall drop and showed off the back of the garment, which had the word "POLICE" emblazoned on it. "I think the Day-Glo green contrasts very well, as a whole." He added sarcastically.

"Roll it up and stick it in the bag. Aisha's right, we've no changes of clothes." Eric ordered him.

"I've not had a change of clothes for 2 months, and it's not done me any harm so far." Skaler proudly admitted.

Aisha pulled her face and held her nose, "But it's doing my nose some harm, you stink."

"That's you?" He looked incredulously at Skaler, "I thought either I'd stood in something, or the police station had a funny smell to it." Eric added. He leant over and sniffed Skaler, instantly regretting his actions as he fought the natural instinct to retch. "Oh my god, it is you, you stink."

Janosh came back into the room. "Who stinks?" Then stopped dead, looking straight at Skaler. "Sorry mate, but you do whiff a lot." He backed away exhaling the tainted air he'd just inhaled. "You'll have to sort that as you travel." He looked at the other two who were also backing away from Skaler. "OK, let's get this show on the road. Good luck, and don't worry, I will be there to help when the time comes, as will the others."

He ushered them through the door, and patted Skaler on his back. He instantly regretting it and looked at his hand, expecting to see it black and slimy. There was nothing there, but he still wiped his hand on a spare coverall. Janosh watched their progress down the passage, their shadows merrily dancing along the walls, a complete contrast to the three sombre figures that cast them.

He closed the door to the passage just as the store room door burst open.

"Sorry sir, I didn't know anyone was in here." The officer looked at him suspiciously.

"Yes, I was just getting some coveralls, before I headed down to the incident." Janosh quickly reacted, whipping a handful off the shelf next to him and handing them to the officer. "Here, you'd better take these."

"What's that awful smell sir?" The officer asked.

"I think the drains must be backing up with the explosion." He smiled as he nudged his officer out of the door, knowing that the bottom coverall was the one Janosh had wiped his hands on.

Keep Your Friends Close.

"Sir, the new arrivals are here, sir." The soldier snapped a crisp salute to the Major as he stood in his office doorway.

"One Sir is more than enough for me, Private." Ian locked his computer screen and stood up, brushing down the creases to his suit. Even though it was a military establishment, only active personnel – the ones going on a mission - wore camouflaged clothing. This was in case of a problem and everyone had to go topside, thus disturbing the illusion of it simply being a working quarry.

The Private wore a similar, smart two piece suit, and Ian smiled at the ambition of the young man before him. "Nice suit."

"Thank you Sir."

The Private led Ian down the corridors of the maze of interconnected portakabins, the floors bouncing at every hollow thud of their shoes. They entered a larger portakabin which was used for many purposes from a canteen through to presentations to all staff. This morning it had been converted into a row of dining tables along one side with the 4 Captains who were stationed there behind them. Each one was a specialist in their area, from security through to Quantum Physics.

Ian nodded at Captain Lancaster, who was the military and security expert. He nodded back before returning to fill in the form for the nervous looking soldier standing before him. Ian could see that the young man wasn't too happy talking to a ranking officer whilst standing in his civilian clothes, as it went against everything he'd been taught in the past 3 years of disciplined training in arguably the best military force in the world. He knew he'd have been badgered and berated to polish every bit of metal, clean every speck of dust off, and smother his boots in polish so it could shine to a mirror finish. Yet now, he was standing in his chinos, short sleeved white shirt and a striped tie before a captain who was wearing jeans, a rugby top with a sweater draped over his shoulders. To the young man, it was wrong, so very wrong.

Major Jackson looked at the rows of soldiers waiting to be processed and noticed nearly everyone looking, or at least glancing at one person. She was next in line to see Captain Lancaster. Standing 1.7 metres tall, her blond hair was tied back into a neat ponytail. Athletically built, but not too muscle-bound to distort the definite curves she had in all the right places. She glanced over towards Ian, smiled broadly and mouthed a "Hi" in his direction with her full lips. Everyone who saw it whipped their heads round, wondering who had received such a miniscule amount of affection from this beautiful lady, and they all glared jealously at the recipient.

Ian stood firm, his face not giving away the smile he had inside at everyone's reactions. He raised one eyebrow and looked at each and every one of his accusers. The lack of uniform belied the rank of the person, and he could have been anything from a grunt to the Colonel. After a few seconds the private returned with a raft of paperwork.

"Major." He snapped off another salute.

"Thank you Private." Ian nodded back, and noticed all the eyes that had been attacking him whip away as his rank rolled across the room. He looked back at the lady who was slowly shaking her head and stifling a small laugh.

"Leiutenant Dickson?" She stepped forward as Captain Lancaster called her name.

Some of the lower ranks cursed under their breath at the thought of her being their superior.

Ian let his smile out as he knew how much their superior she was. He caught her eye as she marched across the room towards Captain Lancaster and waggled his cupped hand at her. She nodded back and made a made a glove puppet snake action towards her mouth.

Ian gave a thumbs up, turned and walked over to the kitchen serving counters, ordering two coffees and two bacon sandwiches.

By the time he'd been served, Lieutenant Dickson had been processed, and they both left the canteen with a mixture of dreamy and dagger filled eyes looking at one or the other.

"Thank you for this Sir." Her soft voice stroked the walls of the corridors as they headed back to his office.

"No problem Dicko, but less of the Sir, you know me, and here it's one of my rules for my staff that we use first or nick-names at all times."

"Why s..." She caught the word on her lips as it automatically sneaked out. "Sorry, Ian?" She smiled. "That's going to be hard work."

"Nah, you'll get used to it." He opened the door to his office and let her in. "I'll take you to your digs later, but I wanted to grab you first while it's quiet and get you up to speed."

"Ah, so it is a special op you've got me here to do."

"Yes and no."

She sat down and took a big chunk out of the sandwich. "Sorry, nothing since an 8 pm flight last night from you-probably-know-where, but I'm not at liberty to say." She said through a mouthful of bacon and bread.

Ian smiled as he sipped his coffee. "That's why I got you here, and why the Colonel sanctioned it on a very quick basis."

She eyed him curiously as she continued eating.

"You've been on under cover missions for 18 months now, being sent here there and everywhere around the world. You're in the top 10 marksmen in the world..."

"Top three, and given a chance to have a clear shoot off, I think I'd be top or second." Her face was devoid of emotions, the exact characteristics needed to complete her tasks of being clinical at that moment when it was required.

"I don't doubt it, but getting the French and the American Governments to get you, Giraud and Alexander together would mean one of you would have to kill the other two." He smiled. "Not an outcome any of the governments want."

"Ha-ha." Her fake laugh was accompanied with a strained smile.

"Anyway, I need you as the lead sharpshooter on camp, mainly based in my OWT."

"OWT?"

"Sorry, Off World Team."

"Off - World?" She split the words up with a clear break between them, as if the two could never be said together.

"Sorry." Ian slapped his forehead. "Yes, this camp is a little more than what it may seem." He took a deep breath. "You would have gone for a briefing session, but I've dragged you out saying we've known each other ages and I'd show you the ropes personally."

"OK." She didn't sound convinced.

"We have the technology to go to other worlds, which we do on a very regular basis." He gauged her reactions, which were simply curios. "We travel to distant galaxies on various missions, which are mainly to gain allies and friendships, obtain technology, offer support in the few cases where we meet hardships and battle the Rexon, who are enemies to the human race."

"Oh!" She sat back, amazed at what she was hearing. Less than 16 hours earlier she had been aiming her laser targeting equipment to help a stealth bomber locate and accurately target a heroin plantation in the middle of the Columbian jungle. As a shared NATO resource, she was sent all over the world helping any of the forces, but always under the general guidance of the British Army. Very few people knew of her existence, and she'd normally be transported via various military and civilian methods. Yet here she was being told that she was about to go to distant worlds.

"And that's not the main reason you're here."

"Oh?" She questioned.

"There's a spy in the camp, and I don't know who it is."

"OK, but how do you know there is one?"

Ian opened his drawer and pulled out a clear plastic box, and slid it across the top of his desk.

Dicko picked it up, turning it over and over as she tried to understand the contents. "It looks like and mp3 player, a small speaker and I would presume this little black circular item is some sort of listening device." She eyed the tiny blob that was stuck to the inside face of the clear plastic. "We don't have the technology or dexterity to manufacture something so intricate or so small."

"Exactly, so it's alien, and as we haven't seen any round here recently, then I can only assume it's one of ours who'd placed it in my office."

She snapped her head up, and then whispered. "In here?"

"It's OK, you don't need to whisper, the box is soundproof, and the mp3 player has some recorded conversations on it."

"Oh!" she scrutinised the box some more. "Good stuff, who did this."

"Sergeant Cockburn."

"Cock-up's here?"

"Know him?"

"We've...met." She let a smile play across her lips and eyes.

"Lucky man." He understood her meaning. "He's been very useful in sorting these sorts of problems out." He pointed to the box.

"How do you know it isn't him?"

"The device was here before he arrived." Ian sighed as he placed the box back in his drawer. "And I know it's not him."

"Know?"

"OK, I have my gut instincts telling me it's not him."

"Fair enough." She knew and trusted Ian's instincts.

"So, I need you to do some very discreet digging around, and try to find anything about who it might be." He sat back. "Oh, and go to other worlds and meet lots of fascinating races of Alien beings."

Changed Directions

They were very quiet for the first few minutes as they walked along the cool, dimly lit passages, their footsteps echoed off the hard concrete surfaces. Water had entered into this functional maze, and there were lots of puddles that splashed as they walked.

Skaler finally broke the silence between them. "Alright, I give in. How does an alien from another galaxy and a member of the Royal family end up doing the dirty work of the security forces, along with a reputable thief, like me."

"Reputable thief! Is there such a thing?" Aisha enquired, "But then again, I suppose in your circles there is the good old 'Honour among thieves'."

"I'd like you to know that I have been a Master Thief for 3 years now," Skaler defended his proud profession, "in actual fact, I was the youngest Master Thief ever."

Eric noticed that his chest had puffed up and he walked a little taller, his head pointing more upwards.

"Master thief?" Eric couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Are you really saying that there is such a thing as a Master Thief. How do you get ranked?"

"Oh that's simple. You have to be able to be accomplished at pick-pocketing, lock picking, and finally breaking and entering. If you do all 3 tasks within a week, as assigned by de-Boss, and not get caught, then you become a Master Thief. It's quite an honour." Skaler waggled his head, proud of his stature.

"So mugging someone to within a centimetre of their life and enjoying the warmth, tenderness and home cooking provided whilst in police custody comes at a later stage does it?" Eric asked sarcastically.

Skaler dropped his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, times haven't been as good recently. You do what you can, when you can, and actually, no, they don't mention how nice it is to have a night's half board in a warm cell in the Order."

"Order, what order?" Aisha asked, but before anyone answered, she had worked it out, "Oh no, don't tell me," and she held up her hand to stop anyone answering. "It's a Guild of Thieves isn't it?" She shook her head slowly in despair.

"Yep, mi-lady" and he tugged his forelock in mock respect to his Princess.

"So, this Guild has a hierarchy, with workers, leaders, and an overall boss, I presume." Aisha asked.

"Yep, and I'm about halfway up the tree," Skaler leant towards Eric as if confiding a secret. "And the word on the street is that I'll be the youngest Grand Master Thief ever, or would have been if I hadn't been sent on a suicide mission with you two."

Eric was amused at his antics, as the 3 strolled along the badly lit and very damp tunnels.

"Anyway," Skaler continued. "Back to my original question, how come you, a Princess and an alien called Eric are here?"

Eric thought about the question as they walked the last few yards along a very long main passage before turning a corner.

"Damn!" Aisha said, as the way ahead was completely blocked. The roof of the tunnel had caved in, completely filling passage. "I thought I'd heard the tunnel go."

"So which way do we go now?" Eric asked.

Aisha was thinking already, "If we head back to the Palace, we can take the other route and bypass all this."

"What happens if that's blocked?" Skaler asked dejectedly. "We're not gonna get far if we keep walking into roadblocks."

"Nice to see you're being positive." Eric replied. "But let's cross bridges once we find them. It's no use worrying which tunnels are passable until we find them. Worst case is that we go back up and travel over ground."

"You can't." Aisha added.

"Why?"

"The Rexon are constantly scanning the city for you, and we need to get out of the city this way, or the whole plan dies before it has got more than 200 metres."

"True." Eric concurred, shrugging his shoulders. "Right, so it's the tunnels or nothing. Let's hope that Skaler's negative vibes don't bring some more tunnels down, man." He said in a fake spaced out Californian accent.

"What are you talking about, I'm a woman."

"You had to be there, Kelly's Heroes, great film, my Dad loved it." Eric sighed.

"Oh!" was Aisha's reply. Skaler didn't say a word, he just stuck his tongue out of one side of his mouth whilst he swirled his right index finger around next to the side of his head and then pointed at Eric, in the universal signal of thinking someone was a little strange. Aisha Giggled.

"What?" Eric's eyes flicked back and forth between them, as they both giggled.

Skaler composed himself. "So?" Referring to his question.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Well, as Janosh said, the short version is I'm not from round here, and I'm looking to find my friend, Tom, who died." Eric started, not noticing that his two companions had just exchanged glances. "And because of him coming back from the dead and telling me what they do to people, I think Janosh wants us three to help bring them down somehow." Eric was starting to doubt why he'd started all of this. Ever since Tom turned up he'd felt like he had been on a very strange roller coaster ride, and he'd rather be back on earth, at home. "Thinking about it," he continued, "all I really want to do, is to find Tom and get home to Earth." He sighed.

"Yes, but that won't solve our problems with the Rexon." Aisha replied..

Eric knew that they were present in both Galaxies, if all he did was to return to Earth, they'd find him again, and the human race would still be in the same predicament. "Suppose so", he added dejectedly.

"So Princess, I presume this Janosh has conscripted you into this little army to be the brains?" Skaler added with a coy smile.

"And for my dazzling beauty, wit, guile and inherent leadership abilities, Soldier." They all laughed, but deep down had all started to worry about what was ahead.

Catch Up.

Nerith spent 20 minutes wandering around the passages, until he came across one that he couldn't work out where it was going. He stopped and ran through the plan of the house in his minds eye to try to work out where he believed he was; which was about 15 metres past the eastern end of the building. The passage that lay ahead dropped at a reasonably sharp angle, it then continued for a further 50 metres at least, but he couldn't see any further, as the angle took the passage out of his view.

He quickly skipped down the stairs, almost bursting with anticipation at what he may find. When he reached the bottom he was amazed to see that this passage carried on for at least 500 metres, taking it outside the periphery of the palace grounds.

"Ooh, that's nice, very nice." He whispered to himself, bursting with joy for what he'd found.

Quietly and quickly he made his way along this main thoroughfare, which had widened to 2 metres. He had only gone about 40 metres along the level before he stopped, as he had come to an interconnecting passage to his left. It rose up a set of stairs to another doorway. He thought about where he was in relation to the layout of the Palace, "The garages, very good, makes for a fast getaway." he said, but realised that he'd been a little too loud, as his voice echoed away from him. He quickly checked back and forth, to see if there was anyone there to hear him. He listened carefully, and was grateful that there were no other sounds. He hadn't realised that he'd also held his breath, as a natural instinct in these circumstances, and now let it out slowly. Satisfied that he was alone, he carried along the main passage for a few minutes, until he was about 300 metres away from the Palace walls before he stopped again. Ahead he thought he could hear something.  
The dim lighting made it difficult to see, but he could swear that there were others appearing from a side passage ahead of him. Nerith pressed himself tightly against the wall, hopefully making himself a harder target to see.

Now that is very interesting, he thought as he strained his eyes and ears to work out who it was. He shuffled along, hunched over, just rubbing the wall along one side. He realised that he was making better progress than whoever it was ahead of him, as he was gaining on them. He decided that he needed to be close enough to hear more clearly, and to recognise who it was, but not too close that he'd be detected.

Occasional words drifted down the passage to him, incoherent to start with, but then he clearly heard something that made him stop again. "Princess?" He peered into the twilight, staring at the shadowy figures. He had roughly halved the initial distance between them to about 150 metres ahead. The 3 figures turned a corner, and Nerith took the opportunity of cutting the distance down by quietly dashing to the corner.

He waited a second while he regained his breath. He tried to hear what was happening, although he struggled as his chest was thumping so fast from his dashing. Nerith needed to check if he had heard what had been said. He took one final deep breath and held it as he slowly peered round the corner. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust again, but all his efforts paid off as he suddenly recognised one of the shapes ahead. He was now only 60 metres behind them.

Eric had stopped to tie a lace that had come loose.

Nerith heard a laugh and it fully confirmed his suspicions, "Yes, it is the Princess, well, well." He thought. "What are you up to this time, my dear?"

In his excitement, Nerith nearly missed something even more important as he heard the words "Alien called Eric." This made him quiver with delight as he quickly understood that they were talking about the one who'd been tying his laces. He'd found what his special friends were looking for, something they'd be very, very grateful for.

Decisions.

After an hour of trudging along many passages that Aisha knew fairly well, which impressed Eric and Skaler, they came to what the boys thought were just another set of ladders. They looked like many before, on similar looking passages, but at these Aisha stopped. She turned to face the boys.

"Right, we're here, now either we camp inside here, as it's probably night-time out there, or we see if we can make it to a friend's house, which is a further 800 metres away."

"I presume we're outside the city walls by now?" Eric asked.

"We're directly under the southern wall, which is the furthest from the Palace." She saw the hesitation in Eric's eyes. "It's also the furthest point from the centre of the city, which is about 1800 metres north, in a straight line."

Eric turned and looked back along the passage, visualizing how far that would be.

"That seems safe enough in my book." Skaler smiled, agreeing with the Princess's safety margin. "And, if it was me" Skaler thought it over for a second, knowing what was being asked, "As a professional thief, we have the cover of darkness on our side to be able to escape this passage, and to get to this allies place, rather than stay here. It then means we don't try to escape here in the morning, when people could see us leave and raise an alarm.."

"An alarm?" Aisha asked.

"Yes, if we suddenly appear from nowhere out of the city walls, don't you think it will look a little suspicious?"

"Oh yes." She agreed.

"So, we leave now, in the dark, and then we can slip away from your friend's house very early tomorrow morning, hopefully unnoticed, before there are too many people about."

"Good point." Eric agreed.

"OK then, let's go." Aisha concluded.

Skaler turned to Eric as Aisha shuffled past them. "She's a very good leader, I'm glad she's on our side," He winked at him. "Apart from her being so butt ugly."

"I heard that." And she thumped him hard on the arm.

"Ow!" Skaler rubbed his arm.

"Think you deserved that one mate." Eric smiled as he followed Aisha up the ladders to a small room with a low wooden door in the sloping wall at the far side.

Aisha opened the door, which was hidden on the outside by a large overgrown patch of brambles and nettles. "It will hurt a little as we get through this bush." She turned to them, "I've been out of here before. We need to crawl about 5 metres to our right, and we'll be clear." Aisha looked at Skaler's smelly, torn and battered clothing, and Eric's short sleeve shirt. She reached into their rucksacks and dragged out the two body sized police coveralls, and then into hers and pulled out two waterproof coats. "I'd advise you to cover all your bare parts, as there are some viscous thorns in these brambles, and even though the nettles make a lovely cup of tea, they are renowned as the worst variety, and sting quite a bit."

They quickly adjusted their clothes, zipping their coats up and pulling the hoods over their heads, which would also help them with their anonymity on the way to the safe house. Aisha giggled at Eric, as he was a little bigger than her, and the coat was rather tight across his chest, the strain evident on the zip. She turned away, hiding the laugh that wanted to burst out and pushed the door open a little more, so that it was big enough for them to slip through. They all crouched down and shuffled their way through the bush, with only a couple of "ows" and a few other more choice words being mumbled as they crawled. A quick check for injuries and any thorns that were poised to attack, and then they dashed the 800 metres through the small cluster of houses that clung to the outskirts of the city's walls, once needing shelter from marauding armies, but now needing the economic strength that was within.

Sioux

"Well, thank you very much" Cock-ups terse voice greeted Ian Jackson as he walked into his tiny workshop down in the quarry base.

"What have I done now?" He tried to defend himself.

"Leiutenant Dickson."

"Oh." Ian stifled a smile, having learnt a little of their history together.

"Oh!" Cock-up huffed, waggling his head. "Oh!"

"What can I say, she's a strong lady."

"You're right on one part there."

Ian sat down on the black cloth swivel chair, bouncing it a little and spinning around as he played. "Now now, there's no need for that, I've been in training fights with her and she's very strong."

"I didn't mean that part."

"Oooh." Ian replied musically. "I believe all females are ladies, and all males are gentlemen."

"I can name a dozen blokes in here who are not gentlemen in any shape or form."

"She has got you riled hasn't she?"

"I'd got used to the fact that she was always away on duty somewhere."

"And now we're getting to the crux."

"What do you mean by that?" Cock-up slammed the soldering iron down on the worktop, the excess solder hissed and smoked as it dripped off the end.

Ian pointed at the melting worktop.

"Damn!" Cock-up picked up a home-made spatula and slipped it under the solder before flicking it into a bin in one swift and smooth movement. He sighed, "Why her boss?" His voice had a defeated edge.

Ian leant over and patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry mate I didn't know about you two till three hours ago, and I definitely didn't know it would be like this."

Cock-up shrugged his shoulders, his cheeks managed to pull a weak smile.

"Unfortunately, she's the best at what she does."

"Yep she is, better than that Frenchie and the Yank put together."

"So can you be cool about it?" He waited for a second. "She was pleased to hear you were here mate."

Cock-up smiled a little more, letting a snorted laugh out as he nodded. "I'm always cool."

"Well done, now what's the latest?" Ian made a mental note to keep an eye on his colleague.

"You remember when I said it left a Gamma signature?"

"Yes, and that helped you find their ship."

"I can track it for a little bit as well." Cock-up seemed pleased with his findings.

"A little bit?"

"Yes right up until they go to hyper-drive, or stellar-drive, or warp speed 9.7, or whatever they use." He spun round on his chair, holding his hand flat at chest height as he made a whooshing sound.

"And when was that?"

"What?"

"When they went to Warp Speed Captain?"

"Oh, they accelerated for a few seconds, and burst into Warp Speed round about 250,000 miles away."

"So about the moon then."

Cock-up stopped spinning. "Yes."

"Brilliant." Ian sighed. "So that's not a long way, seeing as we wanted to follow them to where they were going."

"Yep."

Ian noticed Cock-up was beaming. "Aah, but you've found a way of tracking them a lot further than the moon, haven't you?"

"Maybe."

Watched.

Mrs.Preetam hugged Aisha as she invited the 3 of them into her house. "Come in my dears, come on in" she beckoned the boys in quickly scanning her eyes around the darkness outside, "Out of this cold evening." She closed and firmly bolted the door.

Eric hadn't been watching too carefully where they were, as he'd been too busy keeping his head down and out of sight as they quickly walked away from the tunnels. So he was pleasantly shocked as they entered Mrs.Preetam's house.

"Eric, my handsome young man, it is you" And she threw her arms around him, giving him a huge warming hug. Mrs.Preetam eventually let him breathe again as she took his shoulders and looked him over, especially at her own handiwork. "Ooh those cuts are healing up very nicely dear; I don't think they'll scar too much." She moved in for a closer inspection and Eric got a large whiff of lavender, which he liked. "Well, most will be fine."

Skaler's face had dropped a little, but then it suddenly hardened. He didn't need hugs off some smelly old lady anyway; he'd always survived on his own for many years, since his mother died giving birth to him and his father finally got too drunk to make it home. Living on the streets toughened him up enough to know that families weren't needed, when you've only got yourself to rely on. Anyone else is a liability. Yet deep down he fought the true urge that was hiding there. The one that made him need a hug as much as anyone else, if not more so. That was what had made him stiffen his resolve against the world so far, and helped him now.

"So, this is your sleepover is it?" Mrs.Preetam asked, and gave Aisha raised a knowing eyebrow before she headed into the kitchen. She didn't expect an answer from the Princess. "Anyone for cookies and brownies?" She shouted back into the room.

"Oh yes please" they all answered eagerly.

They'd been so busy getting out of the city that they'd completely forgot about eating or drinking. It was only now when they'd stopped that they knew that they were hungry and thirsty.

She walked back in carrying a tray which had a plate piled up high with freshly made biscuits and another stacked up with beautifully moist chocolate brownies. There was also three glasses of milk, and a separate jug nearly overflowing with more milk, if they needed a top up.

The tray was placed on a hand-made coffee table in the centre of her lounge, and she sat back smiling as a flurry of hands made the plate's contents disappear as if by magic.

Mrs.Preetam knew teenagers, she'd had 3 of her own, and another 7 grand-children, most of whom had finally got over their teenage years. So the easiest way to please them was to fill them up with stodgy chocolaty food and lashes of milk. The only other thing that would have been more preferable would have been chips, but she didn't want to start peeling potatoes at this time of evening.

"So, my dear" turning to Aisha, "What are you really doing out here at this time of night."

Aisha quickly told Mrs.Preetam who everyone was, and why they needed to get to Verrand, a neighbouring city about 50 kilometres to the west of Killnjar. They had to meet up with a man who would help them understand the Kylapitar that Eric then took out of his pocket for her to look at.

It was only then Aisha realised that she'd not had a look at the device Janosh had returned to Eric back in the Police store room. Aisha remembered something else and everyone wondered what she was doing as she dug around in her own rucksack and eventually produced the pen object that she'd found on the floor of her room earlier that day. She held it out next to the compass, and saw that they were made from the same material, as they glowed the same way when touched.

"What's that?" Eric asked, looking at the device Aisha held.

"I don't know, but I found it on the floor of my room earlier today." She looked up at the group as she then said, "I think someone dropped it."

They all moved in a little closer.

"I heard something thud, and when I went to look I first thought it was a bird that had flown into the window, but I found this instead."

Eric's face showed concern, "And you didn't see anyone there?"

"No, but I had the weird feeling that I was being watched for a while," and she shivered as she remembered what she had felt earlier, still believing that it was Nerith, but not knowing for sure.

"Any idea who?"

"I have my suspicions, but like I said, I looked and there was no-one there." She saw that Mrs.Preetam had guessed the same and Aisha nodded back.

"Looking at the fact that it's very similar material to Eric's device" Skaler added," I'd not say some-one dropped it, more like some-thing dropped it"

"What do you mean?" asked Aisha.

"We're going to Verrand, right" and he looked around their faces, "to see someone who knows what this does, and that's a Rexon device." They were all following him. "So it's not a huge a leap, even for an idiot like me, to work out that this pen-like looking thing is also probably a Rexon device."

What they didn't know was that as they all stared intently at the two devices, shimmering away in the hands of their holders, another pair of eyes peered very carefully in through the lounge window. Anyone noticing would have clearly seen that these eyes were delighted to have found their lock pick, and also their friends missing Kylapitar.

Beamee

"Give me the gory details baby." Ian beckoned for the information with both hands.

"I never thought you'd ask." Cock-up turned back to his workstation. "I've made a connector for our little Beamee."

"Beamee?"

"Yep, our little Beaming device, a Beamee, because if I'm using it.."

"It will beam me. Ha ha, very droll." Ian huffed. "I'm getting a little worried that you're not getting any daylight, or contact with people, or something."

Cock-up laughed. "Just naturally happy Boss."

"OK, so you've rigged the Beamee to..." He left it hanging in the air for an answer.

"My computer."

"And......" He elongated the word. "This is like pulling a tape worm."

"And it's not any normal computer."

"I'm intrigued." Ian leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You know there's various chipset manufacturers."

"Various? I thought there were only two."

"No, most people think that." Cock-up shook his head. "The big two are the front runners, and the others work in smaller areas, like smartphones, and the like."

"So realising they can't get a market share they go for the smaller stuff, they find their niche market."

"Yes and no."

"Typically." Ian rolled his eyes.

"ARM are a British company who have been designing and building chips since the 80's, and their chips are in about 95% of all smartphones, including yours and mine." Cock-up pulled his desktop computer box forward.

Ian looked at his pocket where his Android smartphone was snuggling.

"They mainly do 32 bit stuff, with about a 20% market share of the mobile computers, mainly 7 inch android laptops."

"Yes, I think Brock got his daughter one of those."

Cock-up looked at him. "A good starter and needs no virus protection, so works cleanly." He nodded a couple of times before his brain got back on track.

Ian had noticed his easy-drifting off subject and slight delay in getting back to the point. It was a quirk he liked about his genius.

"Anyway, ARM have dabbled in the 64 bit arena, which is dominated by the big two." He pressed a black square down on the top of his computer box. The side popped open a centimetre, and he lifted it off to reveal a mess of chips and wires, circuit boards and hard drives.

"Looking at all the stuff you've got crammed in that box, I think it's easier to ask what have you not got in there?"

Cock-up laughed. "There are three 4 terabyte hard drives, a 512 gigabyte flash drive, it has 16 gigabytes for the video alone, and 64 gigabytes of ram."

"Wow!" Ian was more than impressed.

"And then there's this." Cock-up pointed to a small innocuous looking chip sat in the middle of the largest circuit board.

Ian drew in closer. "It says ARM, so I presume that it's your main chip, as you've been promoting their goods for the past few minutes."

Cock-up laughed again. "Yes Boss, and it's a doozy of a chip."

"A doozy, that well known industry standard, that sits somewhere between a cracker and fan-dabby-dozy"

Cock-up smiled, he liked Ian's humour. "Actually, in this case, it's above that as well then." He tapped the top of the chip, which was about 2 centimetres square, black and had a very glossy black finish. "It's made from Graphene."

"Hold on, I've heard of that." Ian sat up and after a second snapped his fingers. "Manchester University developed it. Isn't it extremely thin pencil lead?"

"Sort of, that does make Graphene, but this stuff is polished from a larger piece."

"OK, so why that material?"

"Because it has fabulous electrical and heat absorption properties." Cock-up stroked the back of the chip. "And you are looking at the first 512 bit chip in use today."

"Whoa." Ian sat bolt up. "So they're going from 64 bit straight up to 512!"

"No, no, no." Cock-up smiled as he closed the box back up, gently caressing some cables back into place so they didn't get pinched when he placed the side back on. "The 128 bit chip will be out next year in top end laptops and desktops. The 256 bit chip is under development, by the big two, but that's 4 or 5 years away."

"So how come you have a 512 bit chip?"

"Because I personally know the CEO and their chief chip designer isn't a bad guy as well, although he's actually got another job besides that and they allow him a lot of flexibility, so long as he does the job for them."

"Well I never, who have thought that you have a bit on the side." Ian smiled. "So that's your design?"

"Yep, all my own work."

"Well done, so that's 8 times faster than the current best chip available."

"Nope, it's actually 16 times faster, but that only helps us more."

"OK, back to the point, you've got the Beamee hooked up to this beasty, and you've found what?" Ian asked.

Cock-up tapped on his keyboard and pages of code scrolled up his screen so fast it was a blur. "And with a couple of clicks here..." Cock-up elongated the word as he finished typing. He stood up.

Ian looked at him in shock. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Yes, follow me." And he headed to the door, an impish glint in his eye.

They walked across the compound to one of the holographic projection rooms.

Inside, Cock-up tapped on his tablet computer he'd brought with him. The projectors buzzed lightly, motors whirred as their cooling fans kicked in. The room was in total darkness when a ball appeared in the centre of the room: it was about the size of a beach ball and floated about a metre off the ground.

They both walked over, but as Ian concentrated on the ball, cock-up watched Ian's reactions.

A second smaller ball, about the size of a tennis ball appeared hovering above and to one side of the ball. It started to orbit the larger one.

"Whoa, that's..." Ian's jaw dropped as colours and shape appeared on both balls. He flashed a look at a beaming and nodding Cock-up, then back at the creation of his home planet and its moon. "Earth, and in such detail."

"A-ha." Cock-up tapped on his tablet computer some more.

Both balls shrunk and moved to one side as a larger brighter one appeared, along with 7 others of various sizes and all were spread out across the room.

"Nooo." Ian was in awe at what he was seeing. "Our solar system." He watched as Saturn and its rings slowly moved behind him. "This is fabulous."

"This is not the Beamee yet, just what I have programmed into my computer." Cock-up explained. He tapped away for a few seconds. "But now it is."

A red dot appeared on Earth.

"What's that?"

"The Beamee."

Ian walked over, and it was clearly flashing in the right place on Great Britain. "Wow!" He watched the planets rotation with fascination as it went from day through the terminator into night.

The red light kept flashing.

A thought struck him. "If we can see this one, then can we see any other Beamees?"

"An excellent question."

Ian watched for a few seconds before all the balls shrank once more. They all moved to the centre of the room as a whole host of white dots appeared, blurring together into a creamy disk.

"The Milky way." Cock-up announced.

The red dot was still flashing, yet it looked as if it was the size of the complete planet.

"And that means there's no more here?" Ian asked.

"Correct, so if I ask the Beamee to do this..."

The Milky Way shrank to a single while blob, with a flashing red light on it. More blobs appeared, dotted around the room.

Ian walked between them until he stopped at one near the back of the room. "Here it is." He pointed.

"Yes and no." Cock-up replied, causing Ian to eye him curiously.

Friends.

Nerith hadn't stayed around for too long the previous evening, for fear of being caught by a passer-by amongst the quiet suburbs outside of the city's walls. As still a night as it was, anyone heading down the lane would have clearly seen him peeping in through the window.

He listened carefully to as much of the plan as was possible through the glass, but the clouds rolled in over the city, bringing heavy rain with it. He'd heard enough of their journey to be able to quickly formulate a plan of his own.

With a whispered "see you soon" to the group inside the warm, dry house, he checked up and down the lane to see that the coast was clear and headed back to the main gate of the city. He tried, as far as was possible, to miss the puddles that were quickly forming, but passing vehicles kept driving through what seemed to be the dirtiest and deepest ones, drenching him in the slimy water. He mumbled under his breath that he could kill each and every one of them, but they should be grateful that he was in a good mood having some information for his friends in orbit.

"We'll show you who are in charge, soon enough." He cursed under his breath as he trudged back through the city. The rain pounded down around him, and soon, he forgot about how he was trying to miss the puddles, and just walked right through them, his head down.

He was deep in thought, running everything through in his mind when he walked into something very solid. Nerith awoke from his thought filled trance and was surprised to see two feet on the pavement directly in his path.

He didn't need any of this, right now. "Get out of my way. I'm on important business, fool."

"Who are you calling a fool, Nerith?"

Nerith recognised the voice instantly, and lifted his head to see if he was right. "Ah, my wonderful Commander Eklan, I was just coming to see you with some very important news. Something that I think you will be very pleased to hear."

"Have you now?" She placed a hand on Nerith's shoulder, lifted her other hand and talked into a communicator, "Two - now."

Nerith watched as the air shimmered before his eyes, it got warmer, then colder, a bright blast of light, and then it was gone. He blinked a couple of times as his eyes adjusted to the change in light level.

"I thought it would be safer to talk up here on my ship." Eklan spread her arms out wide to show off the cargo hanger they stood in. "This way." She pointed to the door, waited a second, and then set off, knowing that Nerith would follow.

After a short walk along similar looking corridors, a door opened on their right to reveal a small conference room. 8 chairs were spaced evenly and neatly around a central oval table. In the centre of the table stood a black cone with a ball on the top. It looked like an inverted ice cream cone with the ice cream blobbed on the pointed end.

"It's a holo-projector and communication device." Eklan could see Nerith was fascinated by the device.

"Oh my, that's marvelous, simply marvelous." He grinned like a child being offered a roomful of chocolate on their birthday. "You are such a superior force."

"Yes, we are." Eklan replied, in a matter of fact way as she sat down. "So, you said you have some information, and the start of a plan?"

"Yes, oh yes." Nerith replied giddily.

"It probably won't surprise you to know that my plan will help resolve all your problems on this worthless planet." Nerith added, his hands had started to wring together again, as he got more and more excited. He had had enough of Ansolon, and hoped his Rexon friends would help him leave there, forever.

"Good, very good indeed." Eklan replied, and listened to what the sniveling worthless human had to say.

Breakfast.

Eric was pleased the 3 of them could stay at Mrs.Preetam's house that night, as the rain had started to fall, and he was welcome to be inside a nice warm and dry house. It took a while, as his imagination worked through many scenarios, yet as his body became tired he listened to the gentle, rhythmical drumming of the rain on the roof tiles above his head, and he finally dropped off into a restless night of sleep.

Mrs.Preetam woke early the next morning knowing that she needn't say any words to wake them, just let her cooking do the work. Eric and the others stirred eventually and followed their noses, sniffing their way into the kitchen, which oozed wonderous odours. They looked on in awe at the hearty breakfast that was laid out on the kitchen table. Mrs.Preetam had created a feast for them. "It will set you up for the day." She said as she beckoned them into their chairs. "You need a good breakfast, especially today," nudging Eric with her elbow as she ladled even more beans onto his plate, "after such a fitful night's sleep, and before you set off on the long walk to Verrand."

He glanced at her, and she returned with a pained smile, one that Eric knew was full of worry for their fate as they headed off on their quest. He wondered how she must have known of his bad night; had his seeming constant tossing and turning made too much noise, had he mumbled or called out. He remembered snaps shots of vivid dreams, flashes of guns, Eklan's face, Tom disappearing before his eyes. He felt the sensation of falling into oblivion, the darkness clawing at him, sucking the life from his body. Eric shook his head as he cleared as much of it away from his mind, and knew he could only deal with what was real and before him, and at that moment it was a hearty cooked breakfast. A final glance at Mrs.Preetam saw her still watching him as she continued piling more and more onto their plates. She simply smiled and nodded towards his plate.

Eric understood, returned the smile with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, took a deep breath, lowered his head and got stuck into the breakfast.

Aisha and Eric had eaten a huge plate full each, fending off Mrs.Preetam's advances of more eggs and bacon between virtually every mouthful. Skaler, on the other hand, had enjoyed two massive helpings, and even tried to pinch scraps off the others plates when they'd finally given in. This made Mrs.Preetam warm towards him a little more.

The previous night had been one where the three of them had quietly checked over the plan with someone who was worldly wise, but also sensible enough to see the pitfalls and dangers that could be awaiting them. Mrs.Preetam had been a good sounding board for them and with her assistance and guidance, the plan was honed to near perfection. It couldn't have been made any better by the end of the evening, even if they'd had a month to work on it, as certain variables were always going to be present. All they could do was to be aware of any potential problems, and then be prepared for the worst at each of those stages. Anything better than the worst happening, would be a bonus. Unfortunately, the first problem area was the journey they were about to take to Verrand.

Yes and No.

"Why am I not surprised to hear you say that." Ian snorted a laugh.

"What?" Cock-up held his hands out in an attempt to look innocent.

"OK then, please tell me why this little red blob is not Eric?"

"Well, as far as I can surmise, that flashing light is a Beamee," he hesitated for a second, "I think."

"You think." Ian scrutinised the red dot as he thought. "Can we zoom in?"

"Yes, let me just..." Cock-up tapped and then pinched his thumb and finger together on the tablet computer he was holding. The flashing blob moved through Ian, who tried to get out of its way as it raced from the edge of the room, to the centre, before starting to grow. After a few seconds the creamy shape of a spiraling galaxy appeared. A few more seconds and the centre changed colour as a red giant revealed itself.

"That's not going to be what we're looking at, is it?" Ian had a terrible thought.

"No, no, look."

The dot was spiraling around from behind the red giant, and into view, getting further away from the dying star as the whole galaxy zoomed into clearer view.

"OK, I get the point, but is it possible that it could be Eric?"

"Maybe, I don't know," Cock-up tapped away on the tablet. "But looking at the state of that Red Giant, it's not going to be too long before there's nothing left in that whole galaxy, and maybe one or two more galaxies around it."

It was as if his words were the queue the dying star had been waiting for.

There was a crackle of light from the red giant. It grew a fraction bigger, as if having a hiccup, before imploding to nothing.

"Wow, is this real-time?"

"Yes." Cock-up answered as he walked over in awe at what they were witnessing.

"Excellent timing." Ian was impressed.

"Not for them." Cock-up pointed to the red flashing dot.

"Oh, but there's been no bang?" Ian suddenly realised, having watched many sci-fi movies, the planet always exploded in a huge bang, wiping everything in its path.

"It's a black hole."

"Oh, and that's not good at all, as they won't have a lot of time."

"Relatively speaking, no, and yes."

Ian turned to the Sergeant. "We should have named you the Riddler, or the Un-decider."

"The first name's already taken." Cock-up smiled. "What I mean is that as they near the black hole, time will slow down from our point of view, so it will take hundreds of years for it all to be sucked in. Yet for them." He sighed as he glanced at the red flashing dot. "As time slows down, hundreds of years will pass by in minutes, maybe even seconds."

"So all's not lost, we've got time to get them?"

"No, the nearer we get to them, the slower time will go. It's like this; we beam in, grab them, and drag them out again. Those few seconds on that planet could mean we beam back and it's the 24th century to us back here." He shrugged the inevitability of the moment. "But I don't think that's them anyway."

"Why?"

"The luck of ending up there is slim, and that's why I think that the dot was a Rexon astronomical unit, watching the star die. It's what we'd do."

"Ok, let's just say that it wasn't them, we would need more evidence."

"I thought you'd never ask." Cock-up guided Ian to the side of the room. "Watch as the Amazing Cock-up works." He paused for a second, flashed his eyebrows, tugged at his sleeves to show he had nothing hiding up them, as any great magician would do, before he commenced.

Ian tried to hide the smile.

Cock-up smiled back and then started to tap on a few keys, flicked a few folders and apps to one side, and with a flourish of his hand, he extended his index finger, flew it up in the air and back down onto a flashing red cross on the tablet.

Ian could hear the fans kick in outside, cooling the computers that were linked to the holographic suite. He knew then that this was going to be big.

The Red giant's spiral galaxy collapsed, others appeared and did the same until they were all tiny dots within the room. It looked like someone had let a light shower in, and then froze it in time, tiny white droplets hung in the air all over the whole room, from the ceiling to the floor.

"What are they?"

"Each one of those is a cluster of galaxies."

"A cluster?"

"Yes, each one will hold tens, maybe hundreds, if not thousands of galaxies within."

"Wow."

"Not yet." Cock-up tapped his screen again.

Red dots appeared around the room, on the occasional cluster. Ian could quickly see that there were 50 or more in total.

"Wow!"

Same old, Same old.

"Good luck", Mrs.Preetam shouted as she waved them off from her door.

"Do take care of each other", she said more quietly as they finally disappeared from her sight. She sighed as she closed the door. "Do take care."

What she never realised was that she'd entered her house and had unfortunately closed her door a little too quickly. If she'd taken a second longer to watch the tree teenagers leave, she'd also have noticed a very familiar wiry figure also start down the same path, but at a distance behind the three travelers she'd just bid farewell to.

Nerith had returned an hour earlier, waiting for the moment when they'd leave on their journey.

Eric walked with his two companions down the same path he had used two days earlier, when he was heading into the city. This was also the same lane where he'd been mugged by Skaler, which was the foremost topic in Eric's mind.

It was also the last subject Skaler wanted to talk about. This was the first time that Skaler had felt part of something good, and he had friends for once, not accomplices. This was all new to someone like Skaler, and he was apprehensive about what it would lead to, careful not to destroy it, but enjoying the sensations of camaraderie and friendship that they were slowly building.

The evening before had been joyous, with good food and good company around. Once the plan had been honed, all of them had told stories from their lives. Eric told a host of stories of tricks and games he and Tom used to play on their friends. Aisha told them about fancy Royal Galas and the strange clothes other Royal families from the other planets in their galaxy wore. Skaler told of thieves that were completely hopeless, never stealing anything and always being caught. Finally Mrs.Preetam told stories of meals that went wrong, and what she'd done to repair the problems, without anyone upstairs ever knowing.

Skaler had his first ever bath, which was a shock to him how lovely and warming it was. The only time he washed was when he was summoned to see "De-Boss", and he'd find a rain-water filled tank round the back of an unused warehouse to splash over his face and rinse his hands off. Mrs.Preetam had found some new clothes for both Skaler and Eric from ones she had left from her own two sons. They both blended more in with the local people, and felt a lot warmer too. Skaler had realised that it had been the best evening he'd ever had, and this made him quite sad.

It took a couple of hours walking at a good pace to reach the gorge, and Eric gave into his thoughts and asked, "So, how many people have you mugged down here?"

It was the last subject on Skaler's mind, but he felt obliged to answer truthfully to his new friend. "Oh, I think at the last count, it was..." rubbing his chin in thought, "about 73, why?"

"Why?" Eric was shocked he'd even answered and shook his head in disbelief at how accurate the number was. "Why? Because I was one of those 73"

"Oh yeah, sorry mate, actually I'd forgot about you," he hadn't really, but Skaler always liked to wind people up, it was his way of having a little fun in a dreary life, and also his way of deflecting problems away by using humour. "So, that's 74 then, isn't it?"

Aisha walked a short distance ahead of them, letting the boys get on with their discussion. Then stopped abruptly.

Eric and Skaler were so wrapped up in counting the muggings, they hadn't seen her stop, and they bumped into her, making her stumble forward.

"Why have you stopped?" Eric asked.

"I think they want us to." Aisha replied, pointing to the two men blocking their passage.

"Lads, how are you doing?" Skaler barged past Eric and Aisha to greet the two men. "I was getting a little worried that......"

"Just hold it there Skaler" the short one said, holding his hand up at Skaler. "The boss ain't happy with you". His deep voice echoed off the canyon walls, reverberating around them.

Skaler stopped immediately. "Enyon, Darl, what's the problem?" he asked, a slightly nervous tone in his voice.

Eric and Aisha looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

Enyon spoke again "The Boss ain't happy, that's all, and he wants to see you three, today." At 1.7 metres he wasn't that short, compared to most men, compared to Darl at the side of him, he was tiny,

"But you're Enyon and Darl, you work as a brains and brute force team, why would De-Boss send you two after me?"

"Well," Enyon flashed a look at Darl, then back to Skaler, his eyes moved a lot faster than his brain. "cus he did, and he wants to do this seeing you three thing, today."

Eric could easily see who the brute was, but he wondered if the team had been sold a little short on the first part of their description.

Enyon had a voice that was perfect for the confines of the gorge. No matter what sentence he had just spoken, there was always one word that reverberated off the canyon walls the most. In this case he'd even left a delay in the last sentence before clearly saying the last one, 'today'. It bounced back and forth along the canyon, making sure that it was being heard, as if it was the most important word ever. Eric was getting a little concerned, as this probably meant going back to the city, where he'd be detected. He looked at Aisha, who also had worked this out, and she looked worried too.

Enyon had a long leather coat on, which, due to his limited stature, was nearly being dragged along the floor. He had an angular face, like an inverted triangle, the apex at the base. His eyes were sunk deep into their sockets, and Eric wondered if this was due to not eating well for many months.

Not knowing the structure and lifestyle of The Guild of Thieves, Eric didn't realise that he was completely wrong. Enyon and Darl were two of the Grand Master's most trusted aides, they'd be included in huge feasts on regular occasions. This was due to the fact that a certain percentage of all ill-gotten gains had to be passed up, through the various levels. The grand Master may only see a small percentage, after they'd all took their cuts on the way up through the pyramid, but it was a small percentage of everyone's gains. This added to some very rich pickings for the Boss.

Darl on the other hand looked to be as wide as Enyon was tall. He merely grimaced, which was enough. Skaler had known these two 'gentlemen' for 6 years, and in all that time he'd never actually seen Darl do anything else. In Darl's right hand was a thick piece of wood that he thumped repeatedly into his left.. The thwacking noise it made as it hit his open hand made them all flinch every time it made contact.

"But guys," Skaler stepped towards the two thugs, "I knew De-Boss would want these two, so I brought them here to get captured by him, and let him claim the huge reward."

Enyon's ears pricked up at that word "Reward?, what reward?"

"You don't know who these two are, do you?" Skaler moved between the two thugs, and he put an arm around Enyon.

"Actually, now you mention it, she does look a bit like..." Enyon pointed to Aisha, who flinched at the thought of them realising who she was, and the subsequent problems this would cause her father.

"Skaler?" she pleaded with him.

"Excuse me Darl," Skaler said, as the thwacking was now being made adjacent to his right ear. "May I borrow that," he motioned towards the log that Darl was using as an instrument.

"In 6 years of watching your impressive work, I don't think you've ever needed anything less than these hulking beasts that swing from your shoulders." Skaler patted the telegraph-pole thick arm nearest to him; his eyes in line with the mid-point of the upper arm. "Actually, I did see you kick someone once, remember, when we had to go and get Quern Pobser for ratting out De-Boss." He giggled along with the two thugs, reminiscing over some good memories. "Anyway, looking at those two, you could probably break wind and they'd snap in two." He joked with Darl as he took the piece of wood off him, and then pointed it towards Aisha.

"Yeah she does look quite like you-know-who, but she's not the one you're after" Skaler added, pointing the log at Eric, "It's him you want?"

"Him," Enyon looked closely at Eric, "But who is he?"

"Who is he?" Skaler said incredulously, "Have you never heard of the Eric the Butcher?"

"Eric the Butcher?" Enyon asked, but didn't want to seem ignorant to current news. "Well erm yeah, of course I have."

Skaler enjoyed the game he'd started.

"Yeah, we've heard of him," Enyon continued. "Isn't he the one who......well, you know, 'cus he did....." He let the last sentence hang in the air, rocking his head from side to side, hoping that Skaler would finish it.

Enyon might not have been very intelligent, but he was very street savvy and could bumble his way through a whole conversation without actually saying a single thing.

"Who's wanted in 2 galaxies for killing over 30 nuns" Skaler embellished his story about Eric's deeds. "And there's that time that he did 3 High ranking members of the Church of Major Saints in one morning, before he sat down for breakfast in their kitchen." Skaler looked back and forth, as if he was about to impart a great secret to them, "You know, the papers went mad, called him the Bishop Basher 'cus of the way he'd use just his bare hands on their heads. A quite gruesome young man" Skaler winked at Eric, who was now looking quite bemused at this new sinister identity he was being given, and tried to puff his muscles up as far as he could.

"Now I'd take it easy Darl, as he might only look like a 14 year old lad from a strange galaxy, but he drinks a pint of each and every victims blood" he squirmed to add a little drama to the story, "which is what keeps him so young and agile. He's actually 37 years old and some say he takes the strength of each victim he's drunk from, so be careful mate, he's quite a handful." Skaler looked at the two thugs and nodded when Enyon glanced back. "So I'd move in slowly, watch him very carefully, especially those hands." He nodded at Darl again, who knew he had a great advantage with his power and physical size, but had become very wary of Eric.

This hesitation gave Skaler the opportunity he was looking for. He waited for Darl to move in a little, and while both thugs watched Eric carefully he raised the log up in both hands and brought it down with all his might, whacking Darl across the back of the head.

His plan would have been brilliant, except for the fact that he'd just taken from Darl a very old and dead branch. This weapon wasn't as solid as he'd hoped, and upon impact it broke in two. Darl wasn't amused by this, and turned to wreak revenge on Skaler, who looked in horror at the stump of crumbling wood he now held in his hands.

"That wasn't what I expected" Skaler said as he looked at the hulking figure bearing down on him.

"Skaler Duck", shouted Eric.

Skaler didn't need to be told twice. Reducing his height would take him away from the huge shovel-like hands that were about to inflict serious damage to him. His timing was perfect as a huge net flew over his head and engulfed Darl, dragging him backwards onto the path.

Enyon looked in horror as his enforcer as felled and trapped in one swift movement. He glanced up the gorge towards the forest and decided that the odds had been turned against him. He chose the best option he had available, and ran in the opposite direction.

Aisha tried to grab him as he sprinted past, but she only managed to grab a small handful of coat, which he tugged out of her hand.

"Let him go" Eric said.

Darl tried his best to wriggle free from the net.

"Good day to you, Sir Eric" said a familiar voice.

Eric looked up and was pleased to see an old friend. "Hi Ashton, thanks for that, I thought we were dead meat."

"Not in the slightest my good friend, as we'd had word of your travels through our land, and so came to greet you and guide you on your way to Verrand."

"Thank you." Eric replied. "I think you got here just in time."

"No, actually we've been here for a few hours, watching your two friends wait patiently for you. This gave us time to manufacture the net and, knowing this could detain them, if required."

"I'm very glad you did" added Eric.

"Ah, Princess Aisha, my very great pleasure to finally make your acquaintance", Ashton bowed before her. "And Skaler, I'm led to believe that you are indeed a crook, but, after listening to your tales and your actions here today, you do seem to have a quick mind and a good heart."

"Of course." Skaler nodded in agreement.

"Although some of us doubted your allegiance for a while." Aisha's tone was a little strong.

"I had to do it to fool those two Goons. You've must have realised that, or my plan wouldn't have worked."

"Your plan didn't work, Numpty", Eric replied, "the log simply broke in two."

"Yeah, well, how was I to know that Darl would pick up a rotten branch to use as a club, and what's a Numpty?"

"You are." Eric closed his eyes and shook his head despondently.

"It wasn't rotten, my friend" Ashton answered Skaler, "The one called Darl ripped it from that very fine Oak tree," Ashton pointed to a solid and strong tree. "It was a fine piece of timber, as solid as any in our forest."

"Oh well. They do say that where's there's no sense, there's no feeling, ha-ha." Skaler half laughed, knowing he'd had a very lucky escape from Darl's wrath.

"Ok." Ashton started, "If we make our way back into the forest, we can discuss everything out of earshot of our friend here"

"Excuse me, Ashton" Aisha interrupted, "But what is to become of him, we can't just leave him here."

"I'm sorry Princess, but I doubt anyone would want to do anything to Darl, even when he's pinned down like that" Skaler added.

"Don't worry, my dear Princess, his friend is only a short distance away, he'll come back and free him, as soon as we leave. So, the sooner we head back to the forest, the better."

From Cub to Scout

"Clavin?" Eklan called as she walked into the barrack room onboard K'nash's ship.

The Rexon soldiers who were relaxing after a morning's intensive and usually bloody exercise routine jumped to attention at the sight of a Commander entering their room. Some had only just returned from the showers, and dropped everything.

Eklan smiled at the power she held over these poor unfortunate souls. As a commander they had to obey every instruction, and at times, she'd play with them, giving them orders that were impossible, just to see how they'd react. Surprisingly, and very occasionally, one of them would shine, and complete the task, and Clavin was one of those.

"Yes Sire." The young soldier leapt off the bed. He'd been reading, which was rare for a Rexon soldier to do. He knew that he should be like the others, spending their time building muscles, honing fighting skills, playing games of chance, and drinking to excess. Yet, he saw that he was more than fit enough, and was arguably the best fighter, so he spent his time leaning military strategies, reading about the great Rexon Leaders.

His family had been poor, living in the cramped, disease ridden Borgals area of the city of Sloggaw in the Northern sector of Rexon. His father had been a well-respected carpenter, manufacturing handmade furniture for the wealthiest Rexon on the planet. His mother had been a nurse in the local hospital. They both worked very hard to earn a meager existence. Yet, through all the hardship, they had borne a fine strong Rexon boy. Even though he excelled at school, being the top of every class, by a long way, his destiny had been set from his very first draw of breath. As driven as he might have been to better himself, to prove that one of the boys of the Borgals could succeed where none had done so before, a life in the lowest ranks of the military was guaranteed, however short that may last.

"Human fighting strategies, by Professor Hone." Eklan turned the book over in her hands. "I'm impressed once more Clavin." She eyed him curiously. "And do you understand the underlying message that Hone wove through this book?"

"That humans will fashion weapons of any sort to defend themselves. That some will also want to better themselves and fight their fellow human, and they will find ways of developing better weapons, faster than they will develop energy programs, or sustainment programs, Sire."

"Excellent synopsis." Eklan replaced the book on his bed. "You have a keen mind for a Botrung." Eklan used the colloquial name of the foot soldiers. "I presume your family were poor?"

"Yes Sire."

"A loss to the higher ranks." She stood before him, looking deep into his eyes, watching his expressions as he waited for her to continue. "I like you Clavin, I'll make no bones about that, and I need you to go on a mission."

A glimmer of excitement flicked his eyes open a fraction.

Eklan smiled at the involuntary reaction. "You will need 8 keen and loyal recruits to go with you."

"Sire, yes, but I'm only a Botrung as you say."

"No, you're wrong, you were only a Botrung." She emphasised the past tense.

"Sire?"

"Once I get back to my cell, I'll have you raised to Scout Leader, in which case you'll need a team to lead, and I'll let you pick them."

"Sire, thank you."

"You've earned it, and I think you'll be good at it." She patted him on the shoulder. "Now let me explain the plan, so that you can decide who you want to take, as you're going to be taking directions from a Human, if that's OK?"

Clavin thought for a second. "If the Commander decrees that is the order, then I shall follow, Sire."

"Excellent answer." Eklan smiled knowing she'd picked the right person, someone who would think first before reacting, and someone who could be diplomatic and clinical, as the situation dictated. She continued to explain the plan with him, letting him replay the points back to her to ensure he understood what was required.

Strength.

The darkness closed in around Eric, Aisha, and Skaler as they entered the deepest reaches of the Dryades forest. Once inside the comforting safety of the dense foliage, Eric decided that he needed to tell Ashton about what happened in the city.

"Ashton, I'm sorry, but I" Eric paused, trying to make sure he used the right words, as his throat dried up, "I never got the chance to see Arran Vorlet, I, well we..." and his head sank slightly in shame, as he thought about what Ashton would think of him being arrested. His throat had started to constrict and his face flushed in embarrassment.

"It is not a problem" Ashton replied, "He never made it to the rendezvous at the Majestic Lion. He was working on another device, similar to your Kylapitar and word did not reach him. He had not known you were traveling to meet with him." Ashton stopped for a second and sighed. "Alas, he was killed by the Rexon yesterday evening.

"Oh, I'm so very sorry to hear that" said Eric, feeling Ashton's loss of an ally.

"Thank you", said Ashton with his head bowed, "He'd been a good friend as well as being a very useful ally at the times when we needed his skills. He was trying to decipher the controls of another Rexon device not knowing that it was actually a trap." Ashton sighed at the thought of the loss.

He took a few seconds to compose himself, then raised his head high to carry on. His usually calm and gentle face had been replaced with one of anger. "It was a bomb, and quite a big one by all accounts, as it blew up half the street where he lived, destroying any other equipment and help he may have had for us, killing many innocent people."

Eric connected the dots, "So that was the explosion Janosh told us about." He said, shocked to think he may have been with him trying to decode the Kylapitar when it went off. "I could have been there with him," he looked at Aisha, "we both could have, if we hadn't been arrested."

Aisha's face blanched. "I was in the tunnels on the way to the station; I could have been killed from the collapse." She thought about what had happened, "All those poor innocent people, killed needlessly by them animals."

"See how mugging you helped saved your life!" Skaler added, using his usual mis-timed humour, "You should be grateful for me doing that."

"Your friend has a strange perception of how to help a fellow human doesn't he?" Ashton asked.

"Don't worry, you'll soon come to realise that he has a very strange perception on all aspects of life, his own included" replied Eric, nodding towards Skaler.

They walked on in silence until reaching the clearing where Eric had enjoyed the feast two days earlier. After all the events that had unfolded around them over the last 48 hours, he allowed himself a small smile, remembering the happy time he'd had there.

Chairs were brought out for the three teenage travelers and 12 Hawcons.

Ashton cleared his throat. "Ahem, I don't think we can spare any introductions, except to say that it's a great pleasure and a great sadness to greet you all here today."

"Presume we're the pleasure part" Skaler added.

Aisha kicked his calf, "Don't be so rude. I'm sorry Ashton, please continue."

"Thank you, your Highness." Ashton looked around the group seated before him. He knew all their faces, as they were his most trusted commanders and aides. "Right, we have to help you three get to Verrand, and meet Janosh's specialist."

"Excuse me," Skaler interrupted once again, to the annoyance of Aisha and Eric. He looked at them in turn, "Hold on Princess and fellow inmate," and gave him a knowing smile. Eric glared back at him. "No, this is very important, as how did you know it's a specialist linked to Janosh that we're going to meet?"

"An excellent question and it shows that you were listening carefully. You may seem to play the fool, but you are a very clever young man." Ashton replied.

"And to answer your question, they knew as it was me who told them." Janosh appeared from behind the dense foliage.

"Eh, how come... and..." Skaler tried to compute everything as he looked from Janosh to Eric to Aisha. "Alright, stop right there. Can someone please explain everything, as I suddenly don't understand what's going on."

"Me too" added Aisha.

Janosh walked into the clearing. "I'm sorry, but I had to get you out of the city in the most discrete way, especially with what you were carrying."

"Why because of that?" Eric asked.

"We'd found out that the Rexon had increased their sensor sweeps within the city walls from just looking for you, to also looking for any of their devices." Janosh explained, then took a deep breath and sighed. "This helped them detect Arran's workshop, which was probably full of similar kit, and they just set him up with a rigged device."

Eric shook his head. "So if we had met, then I would only have added to Arran's woes, and the Ansolon Resistance losses."

"Yes. They were closing in on you and the Kylapitar, so we had to get you out of there." Janosh explained.

"We," enquired Aisha, "Who's 'we'?"

"As Eric has rightly noted, we are The Ansolon Resistance." Janosh replied with a defiant tone.

The children had been sat forward, listening intently to Janosh's explanation of events. With his last words they all simultaneously jumped bolt upright in their chairs, not having realised that they were part of a bigger picture. They were all resistance fighters.

"So, who else is in the resistance?" asked Eric.

"To start with, there's your father" Janosh nodded at Aisha.

"Dad?" her eyes were wide open in awe that her dad was involved with something like this.

"Yes, King Harvin is our Leader, but that is only known to a very select few sub-commanders of the main cells, and now yourselves."

"Cells?" asked Eric.

"Resistance cells." Janosh explained by picking up a twig off the forest floor, and drew in a small patch of mud in front of his chair. "We've split the organisation into smaller groups with a hierarchy built in." He drew a series of boxes in a pyramid structure. Then moving from one of the bottom row of boxes up through the structure he explained, "Each cell only know their next in line. That leader of the first cell will only know his leader in the cell above. This way we can keep the very top commanders clear from being found out, and also free from any consequences of their teams actions".

"And my Dad is the Head of all of these people?" Aisha couldn't believe it, she'd thought he was working with the Rexon, and didn't care about the people, but she now had been told that he was a freedom fighter, and she suddenly felt a surge of pride course through her body.

"Yes, it was Harvin who gave the final nod that agreed to this mission, even though he knew you were on it, Aisha. He said that it was the toughest decision he'd ever made, but knew that as you were already involved, with knowing who Eric was, you had to be a part of it."

"Oh" was all Aisha could say, the anger she'd carried towards her father had been dispelled in a matter of seconds.

"If the Rexon knew, they'd have gone to any length to get the information out of you." Janosh looked at Aisha. "Which, knowing them as I do, would have meant kidnapping and torture." He let it sink in for a second as he watched Aisha's face drop with shock. "It was easier that you were away from direct sight, and sent on this mission, even if that eventually put you in as much danger."

"Oh, I see." She answered, even though all this was too much for her mature, yet still very young mind to truly comprehend.

Janosh smiled at her, and gently placed his hand on her knee, hoping to give her some of his strength. Eventually he could see that she was coping with the information he'd imparted, and turned to Eric, "You've still got the Kylapitar?"

"Yes, and Aisha also found this." Eric rummaged around in the rucksack to dig out the pen shaped object and the Kylapitar.

"Well I never." He looked at the new item.

"Do you know what it is?"

"I've heard of them before, but never seen one." Replied Janosh, and he dug out a pair of hand cuffs from off his belt He snapped one end of the cuffs around the arm of the chair, instantly locking them. "May I", he asked of Eric, who passed the device to Janosh. "Skaler, you'll find this very interesting." He turned it around in his hand, feeling the eerie warmth and watching the colours glow and fade. "In fact it was De-Boss who told me about it" and then pointed one end at the keyhole of the cuffs. He pressed the button, and the cuffs instantly sprang open and dropped to the floor. "And it looks like he was right."

They all gasped.

"Ingenious" Ashton remarked, amazed at the simplicity and usefulness of the Rexon device.

"Yes, ladies and gents," Janosh said to the astonished audience, sounding like a magician performing tricks, "As you can see, it's a lock-pick, and a damn good one as well." He admired the device he held, "it can pick any lock, anywhere on this planet, I know, because an expert safe cracker told me."

"But I found this in my room." Aisha mulled the thought over, "So that means that the Rexon...."

"Ah, no, it may not have been the Rexon themselves." Interrupted Janosh. "But someone who either had one of these through being able to get his hands on one," and he smiled at Skaler, who in turn appreciated the acknowledgement of his skills and smiled back. "Or, and this is my personal thought, it was dropped by an Ally of the Rexon." He let that thought sink in for a second.

"Princess?" he leant forward on his chair towards her, "Do you know of anyone who might have been an ally, or might have wanted information about you?"

"I don't know, except for...." She checked if she was just thinking it, or if it could be true. The last thing she wanted to do was to give Janosh an innocent person's name.

"As I was preparing for this mission I had the feeling I was being watched whilst in the palace", she continued, her expression distant, searching for clues back in the city. "And whilst getting everything packed into the rucksack I heard something thud from within my room." She worked the memory through in detail, "And I believe that it was in actual fact, that item being dropped." She pointed to the lock pick.

"Did you search the room?" Janosh asked, knowing it was a very simple question.

"Yes, the lock pick was on the floor near the curtains, so I swished my arms into them, to make sure no-one was there, but then", she was remembering the facts more clearly and held her hand up to her mouth in shock, "Then a maid came in and disturbed me. I checked my watch, realised I didn't have time to waste, and left."

"So, you didn't search thoroughly. The person could have still been in your room." Janosh looked to the ground, worrying about the implications of her inaction. He suddenly looked up at her with a surprised expression on his face. "Which way did you leave the palace?"

"Through the secret door in my dressing room, why?" Aisha asked a question back, hesitantly, but had already started to formulate the same answer as Janosh.

"Because, Princess, whoever was in your room within those curtains could have probably worked out that you never left through the bedroom door, but went into the dressing room and simply disappeared." He held his hands out on either side as if he was a magician again, performing a new amazing trick.

"Actually, I think I heard something further back in the tunnels as we left them, before going to Mrs.Preetam's house", Eric added, knowing that it may have been nothing, but he had this unnerving feeling that it was important enough to be worth adding.

"Damn", Janosh cursed, "I think we can assume that you have been followed, and I have an idea who it is." His eyes narrowed as the anger drew his face tighter.

"Who?" Aisha asked.

"That would be me, Princess." said a winy voice from behind them.

Choices

"Go on, just have a wee dram." Colonel Gordon Kelsall wasn't really asking as he poured a large measure of single malt whiskies into 2 crystal glasses on the top of his desk.

"I think I need Kay to come and pick me up, looking at the size of that small malt you've poured." Ian Jackson's eyes grew wider as more of the peat coloured liquid flowed into the glass, swirling and mixing with the melting ice cube.

Gordon laughed. "Don't disturb Kay, she'll have had a hard day in hospital, let her relax." He handed over the glass. "Use my driver, and arrange a time for him to collect you in the morning so you can leave your car here."

Ian took a sip and let the liquid roll around his tongue. It poured off and into the sides of his mouth, the warmth starting to make its presence known. He could almost smell the peat as the fumes slipped down his throat. He waited, letting it heat everything as it went down. "Nice." He watched the whisky's ebb and flow in the glass, its ying seducing the melting ice cubes yang. "I think I'll need him tomorrow night by the time I've finished this one."

Gordon had rolled his chair back against the window behind him so that he could bring up his feet onto the desk. "There's more if we need to." He tapped the bottle with the toe of his shoe. "So, options?"

"Cock-up's so far found 126 different locations."

"OK." Gordon wasn't pleased with such a high number, but he knew there was a story about to unfold.

"And that's across thousands of galaxies." Ian took another sip as he let the information sink in. He and Sergeant Cockburn had been in the holographic simulator, zooming in and out of quadrants of the Universe, using the volume of the room to signify each block as they mapped the possibilities.

Sergeant Cockburn had created a way of downloading the data into his mapping program, to ensure that they didn't go over the same area twice. The computers were working to capacity, trying to take in all the data.

"So where will that leave us, and is there any way of knowing which one is Eric Peterson?" The Colonel asked, fearing the answer.

"In a word, no." He quickly held up a hand. "But, Cock-up has a theory, and it might help narrow it down."

"OK?" Gordon was trying to keep his optimism going. He'd lost Eric's father 2 years earlier, and it wasn't going to happen again. The good news was that two years on from those days of feeling so helpless and lost, the technology they'd gained, and the experience of his team had grown immensely. He also now had Sergeant Cockburn in the team, solving problems with his near genius mind. He knew that this time, they had a chance, however small that was, they had one. What they'd found so far had intrigued him, and he wanted more explanation, as he was not going to give this up.

"He got the directional information from NASA, and he's used that information to help narrow it down."

"NASA?" Gordon laughed.

Ian smiled. "Yes, there's an ally up on the international space station at all times. Each one has been briefed with the specific discreet role of collecting information that will be of use to us."

"Does NASA know?"

Ian pursed his lips as he considered the answer. "Let's say that there are one or two very high ranking officials, the ones who can enforce the decisions, who are on our side."

"And on our payroll?"

"The President takes care of all of that, just as we have strategically placed people on our payroll," Ian pursed his lips, "they have a few key people on the payroll at key locations & facilities around the US." He took another sip and savoured the peaty liquid. "It's Tim up there at the moment."

"Texas Tim?"

"Yes, so that's even more opportune as I've talked directly to him."

"Good." Gordon liked the fact that he was a tiny part of a huge conspiracy around the planet, but had a tiny worry that someone would blow their cover and leak key information at some point in the future. He knew what the media would make of it, although he wondered if there were some of those key people within the media.

"Between Tim and Cock-up they've been able to track the gamma residue, over a short distance."

"How short?" The Colonel was a little worried by the answer.

"About 50,000 miles."

"Oh!" The colonel's eyes opened wide.

"That's only a third of a light year."

"Only?"

"Compared to where they were heading it's like setting off on a journey to St Ives and only taking your first step."

"Oh, I see." Gordon struggled with the concept of those vast distances.

"A fraction of a degree out and we could be light years away from the actual target." Ian tried to clarify. "If I use your tablet." Ian leant forward and picked up Gordon's computer. He tapped a couple of keys. There was a slight hum of a fan as the projector attached to the ceiling came to life.

"Now taking the trajectory into account, we've played with a few routes, allowing for planetary bodies, gravitational pulls, objects that we think we'd want to steer clear of if we made this trip, we'd end up around here."

The screen slowly faded from a royal blue, the projectors default colour, and into a picture of space. To Gordon, it could have been anywhere, as he didn't see any of the usual constellations of stars he'd studied many times sat on a home-made Adirondack chair on the decking at the rear of his house in the midst of the Bowland fells, south of the village of Caton.

"What you can see are a cluster of 87 galaxies, which from our point of view are about 3 degrees south of Arcturus, and about 268 thousand light years away."

"What?" Gordon was shocked. "OK, how far is Arcturus, just so I can get an idea of scale."

"As you know Betelgeuse is about 5 light years away, which is our nearest star, and Arcturus is about 37 light years away."

"And these galaxies are 268 thousand light years away?"

"Give or take a light year or two." Ian smiled cheekily. "Look, the path Eklan's ship took would end up here."

"OK." Gordon took a deep breath, as this was still a huge understanding for him to take in. "And you say that we're looking at 87 galaxies, as in 87 milky ways?"

"Yes, but we can narrow that down."

"That's the first thing you've said that I can fully understand."

Ian smiled as he tapped the tablet once more. "Cock-up's hooked the Beamee to the system and this is an overlay of where other Beamee's are." 5 red dots started flashing.

"Excellent, now we're starting to get somewhere."

"And we've been to one of those, a while ago."

"Friend or foe?"

"Friends, we met some good people, two differing races of humanoid, and both very helpful." He looked his commanding officer in the eyes. "And I've got that funny feeling that it's the right one, so, do we have the go command to check that one out?"

"Yes, get a team together, follow your hunch and get to that planet and find that young man, and bring him home to his mother." Gordon gave the order.

Changes.

"Hello Nerith" Janosh said, his shoulders slumped in total dejection. "And how long have you been sniveling about back there, my King's favourite little toad?"

"Oh long enough to be able to call my friends, tell them who I had found, and also what I had found." He stepped out of the shadows, backed up by a handful of Rexon, all holding weapons of various shapes and sizes, all lethal, all pointing at the group in the clearing.

Nerith was looking intently at the Kylapitar being held by Eric.

"So, you're Eric." He held out his hand, "I'm very pleased to meet you." He waited a second and then thrust his hand further towards Eric. "It's very rude to not shake a hand that is offered in friendship."

Eric leapt to his feet, anger on his face and pointed a finger straight at Nerith, "You are no friend, and it's not your hand I want to shake, but your neck." His anger at being betrayed to the same race that had killed so many, had taken his best friend, and his father all burst through.

"Sit down Eric," Janosh gently touched his hand onto Eric's arm. "This is not the time to fight."

Eric slumped back into his chair. Janosh looked straight at him, "But remember that there will be a time to fight, and I will want us all to be there, alive and ready for the victory that will come our way." He winked at Eric, and showed a little flash of a smile. "I've never been on the losing side yet, and I don't intend to start now." He whispered to him.

"I'm sorry, but I think it's a teeny bit late for morale boosting speeches." Nerith smiled his wiry grin at Janosh. He walked over to him "I'll take that, thank you, as it is mine", snatching the lock pick and placed it into his pocket. "Right, I think we can all leave now" he headed over to Eric, who, along with everyone else had stood up. "And I'll relieve you of that as well, thank you" taking the Kylapitar from his hand.

"Ah, what a beautiful device and you have no idea what it does do you?" he enquired of the group around him. "Well if you press this left hand button, it will transport you to the destination shown by these Rexon symbols." and turning to Eric, "And I believe you've had first-hand experience of that" He raised his eyebrows waiting for agreement. "I admit that I only know a small amount of symbols of where the destination will be, but I presume that you must have just hit lucky and 'landed' here." He smiled at Eric, then turned to Aisha as if he was giving a lecture and wanted to include all the students equally. "It also has other abilities. You see, if you press this button in the middle, which I won't do right now, it's a weapon, and will fire a bolt of electricity in an arc of about 5 metres, rendering your opponent completely helpless. Don't worry Princess," as he turned to her, "I don't want to hurt you at all"

"So how come you don't get hurt by it?" asked Skaler.

"An excellent question, Skaler is it?"

He nodded at Nerith.

"I'm led to believe that it is self-grounding, and thus doesn't harm the person actually touching it, a bit like a cattle fence, where only the one on the end gets the shock." He looked at the group. "And you'd all be on the end of the wire, so to speak."

"And the right hand button?" Asked a keen Skaler,

Skaler's interest in the device wasn't going unnoticed by Janosh, who was inwardly encouraging the boy to learn as much a possible about the Kylapitar while they could.

"Ah, that is something my good friends won't tell me about, but I do have my suspicions." And he winked at Skaler as if he was keeping a secret between them.

"And that is?" Skaler asked.

"No, no, I do love to teach others, but I'm afraid it's time to leave.," he moved into the centre of the group, "If we could get together in a little group, I'll scroll through the locations on the screen, like this, until I get the right one." Looking at the screen, Eric noticed that the changing symbols scrolled up the screen.

The Rexon guards huddled everyone around Nerith, which made Skaler stumble as he stepped forward, bumping into Nerith, who scrolled past his required destination. "Damn you fool" said Nerith through gritted teeth as he scowled at Skaler.

"Sorry, I was nudged by the Rexon soldier and stumbled on this rough clump of grass," he looked at the ground and kicked the point he'd tripped over, "we are in the middle of a forest after all, not the market square in Killnjar."

"You've made me miss the destination point now", he mumbled as he rolled the key down to make the symbols scroll down the screen and back to his chosen destination.

Ashton had landed on Skaler's shoulder just after he'd stumbled and whispered something in his ear, which made Skaler snigger, and he nodded at the Hawcon leader.

"Ah, here it comes" said Nerith, as the required symbols sequence came back into view.

"Now" whispered Ashton, who nodded his head to the other Hawcons around him.

Skaler pushed Nerith's left elbow, making him not only scroll up a couple of symbols, but also press the left hand button.

Timing

"Anything?" Major Ian Jackson asked Corporal Mark Taylor, his surveillance and communications operator. The rest of his small troop of MI9 soldiers waited impatiently in a shadow of a dense forest on the planet they'd beamed to. The evening sun fell away from them, pivoting the darkness the trees kept tucked underneath all day and let it escape and run across the meadow. Automatic brightness settings illuminated the controls on the equipment Corporal Taylor had unloaded off his back.

"Nothing, I've tried communicating with the contact in each of the two humanoid species on this planet Sir, the Chief of Security and the Wood-Squire, but we've no reply as yet." The Corporal made sure he was doing everything by the book, every rule followed, every action checked twice; he was a typical result of the world-respected and supremely trained British Army.

He'd been on 4 off-world missions so far, routine patrols of known planets, keeping initial first contact lines of communication open, taking scientific teams on reconnaissance, and transporting aid to one world, yet he knew that this mission was extremely important. He looked anxiously at the readings on his equipment, willing them to spike or bleep, or anything that could help them succeed. This was his first mission under the command of the well-respected Major, and like him, he hated failure.

At that moment, as if someone had heard his silent prayers, a bleeping noise started to be heard from his chest. He opened a pocket and removed a small tablet computer. He tapped the screen, cancelling the warning noise, and scanned tha data. "The UAV has found something at the far side of these woods."

"What sort of something?"

The corporal checked the data twice, his eyes growing wide. "It's him Sir, its Peterson." He turned the tablet to his Major.

"Excellent." Ian beamed as he couldn't believe his luck, no matter how many times his hunches had been right, he was always amazed when they struck the target. "Have we got a clear line of sight?"

Corporal Taylor tapped a few keys. The screen changed from a mass of numbers and wavering bars to a picture of the top of the trees. "Damn, the woods are too dense, we've got nothing."

"OK, how far?"

"Just over a kilometre, that way." Corporal Taylor pointed behind them, deeper into the forest. "On the other side of that hill."

"Let's pack up and get a move on, we can be there in about 4 minutes if we yomp at a fast pace." He looked at everyone. "Dicko, take the lead, as you're the fastest and the best shot, if we meet anything suspicious." He waited for the Lieutenant to nod her agreement of his order. "Sergeant Bentley, follow her as close as you can." Ian noticed Dicko's smile, knowing that the Sergeant didn't have a chance of keeping up. "Corporal Taylor, you're with me in the centre,"

Corporal Taylor was built like a Rugby player, although he preferred football, always striving to get to any match he could to watch his beloved Preston North End. The beefy radio operator quickly finished packing up his kit. Even though Mark had the most to carry, Ian had chosen him as he was very fast and could carry the weight without a problem, ensuring they would be an effective and rapid troop.

"Lanky, can you Sergeants Allen and Heaton fan out across the rear." The experienced Captain nodded at the other soldiers who instantly took to their positions a few metres apart, forming a triangle at the rear of the pack.

They all raced off into the forest, 7 pairs of eyes not only covering their personal lines of sight, but overlapping their adjacent team members. Ducking under branches, swerving round clumps of undergrowth, leaping over fallen trees, racing like eager wolves with the scent of blood in their nostrils, checking every shadow, every movement, noticing every animal that scampered out of their way.

The Major had learnt the art of Yomping from a battle hardened Paratroop Regiment Instructor, who'd done the same for over 30 miles on the very boggy countryside of the Falklands in 1982. Ian ensured that skill was passed onto anyone and everyone in MI9. It was the quickest and most efficient way of getting them into, and occasionally, out of a danger zone.

After 3 minutes, Ian and Corporal Taylor came over the top of the small rise in the landscape, as the ground leveled off over a vast plateau of forest. Lieutenant Dickson was about 100 metres ahead, crouching down behind a large expanse of dense bushes; Sergeant Bentley was at her side, his chest heaving as he sucked in huge lungful's of air after his efforts of trying to keep up with the whippet-like lieutenant. Dicko waved at them to slow down and crouch.

"Sit-rep?" Ian whispered as they got to her. "About 50 metres at your 12 o'clock is our target and our planetary contacts."

"OK, why are we crouched?"

"They're surrounded by Rexon soldiers."

"OK, so how many friendlies?" Ian asked the first question.

"There's Peterson along with Actflor and DeBrun, and 2 others, a young lady and a young man."

"Sir, how many Rexon are there?" Corporal Taylor asked his Lieutenant, wanting to get involved in the action.

"There are 9 Rexon and one short humanoid who is helping them."

"OK, 10 in total." Ian thought for a second, just as the last 3 of his troop arrived.

"OK, Guys, we have a situation brewing. 10 enemies, 9 Rexon, one small human are holding our man and 4 of his friends, including our 2 contacts. We need to remove the threat, with no casualties to our guys, and if we can keep a couple of the Rexon senior soldiers alive, all the better, but think of the safety of the whole troop first." He looked at everyone as they crouched around him, listening to every command. "Let's fan out across this end of these bushes to remove any problems with crossfire. Dicko go right with Allen, Bentley, and Heaton. Taylor, you stay here and be a base station, Lanky and I will go left. On my command let's go and give them some assistance."

He knew that Dicko could take out 2, maybe 3 without drawing fire, but the rest would only get 1 each in that time, leaving 2 or 3 enemy soldiers fighting back. "Corporal keep control of the radio contact and the drone above, we may need to track any other enemy movements we've missed in the area."

They fanned out, quickly and quietly creeping through the bushes until they got within 30 metres of the group of people being held captive. They could only hear mumbled voices, with no clear sound, and knew that their own radio-chatter wouldn't be heard if they kept their voices low.

"Dicko, is everyone in position at your side?" Ian asked.

"Sir, ready to take out 5 or six at least." The determined and confident voice returned through his headset.

Ian smiled and turned to see Lanky about 8 metres away, his weapon aiming towards the enemy, waiting for the command.

"On a three count, we fire on Go." He paused for a couple of seconds. This let everyone expel their breath, steadying their bodies, their weapons raised and aimed at their first targets. Ian knew instinctively that they would be ready at the same time, as they'd all been trained the same way. "Three – two..."

Oops!

There was a bang and a bubble of light enveloped the captives and a couple of their Rexon guards. As fast as the bubble had appeared, it disappeared and they were left bewildered in the middle of a field on an open plain. The sky was yellow and purple, with a hazy sun in the distance.

Everyone was shocked by what had happened, except Janosh and Eric.

Eric had noticed Ashton fly over to Skaler's shoulder, and the nod before they were beamed. He knew that something would happen, but he didn't know what.

Janosh had seen the same as Eric, and the other Hawcon who had quietly flown in around the legs of the Rexon guards, loosely wrapping a twine around them.

When Ashton gave the order, the Hawcons pulled on the twine as hard as they could which dragged most of the Rexon guards out of the transportation bubble before it formed, leaving them in the forest, to be attacked by the very brave and resourceful Hawcon.

Unfortunately, not all the guards had been dragged away and two had travelled with the group. Eric dropped his left shoulder as he sprinted at the nearest one, hitting him squarely in the lower chest, using his Rugby training to bulldoze him over. The guard's gun was sent flying across the field, which Aisha dashed over to grab aiming it squarely at the fallen guard's chest. She flashed a smile at Eric for his bravery.

The second guard wasn't as slow in realising what was going on and fired a shot at his nearest enemy, Janosh, who anticipated this action and rolled across the grass, the shot missing him by millimetres.

As he rolled he slipped the small dagger out of the leg sheath that he was wearing over his boot and in one fluid movement threw the knife at his target. The Rexon didn't stand a chance as the knife hit him in the centre of his throat. The gun dropped as he gasped for air, his fingers scrambling at the knife which had been thrown with such force that it had cut through his throat and had buried itself into his spinal cord at the back of the neck, instantly paralyzing him from the shoulders down. He fell back as if strapped to a plank. As he hit the ground the bit of air he had left in him was released as a slight hiss and his arms fell to his side.

Janosh didn't see all of that, as his attention returned to the first guard who was quickly getting to his feet. He was a huge specimen of Rexon, being a good 30 centimetres taller than Janosh. He stood up and assumed a boxers stance, facing Janosh who had also now stood up.

"Stop or I'll shoot." Aisha warned the Rexon guard who gave her a cursory glance before turning back to his true prey.

"Wait Aisha", Janosh held his hand up to stop her, "Let us do this, solder to soldier" looking straight at the guard. He quickly glanced at her, and she nodded back at him. He checked that Eric had picked up the other gun and had aimed it at Nerith, who handed the Kylapitar to Skaler.

"Just you and me, big boy", Janosh's eyes narrowed like a lion on the hunt. He hunched over slightly and raised his hands. He waited patiently, knowing the Rexon would not have the same discipline. "Name?" Janosh asked.

"Clavin I." The Rexon returned a hard stare, standing tall and proud, never flinching from the human before him, not a care that his weapon was held in another's hands. He knew he had to win this fight, even if he lost the battle.

"Welcome Clavin, it will be a pleasure to kill you." Janosh replied as a faint smile flickered across his eyes as he saw a bead of sweat run down the Rexon's forehead, and the veins on his neck become visible. He knew the deire to attack would soon overcome his patience.

The Rexon guard lunged at Janosh, who neatly and swiftly half side-stepped the attack, swinging his left hand across and down hard onto the back of the Rexon's head. He purposefully left his knee across his attacker's path, and the Rexon fell over Janosh onto the ground again.

Janosh backed off a metre.

The Rexon guard composed himself as he stood up, dusting the loose dirt off his armoured jacket. He turned to Janosh, who smiled and nodded back.

"Want some more Clavin?"

"Kill, minutes of 2, You I do will," the guard threatened and held up two fingers to help him count, "Human." He spat the last word out defiantly.

"Not bad English for a Botrung." Janosh replied, his ginger mop bouncing in the gentle breeze that swept across the meadow.

They both crouched over, taking their respective attack stances once more. Janosh shook his head slowly, letting his opponent know that it was all very futile, goading him on. And once again, he patiently waited for the attack that would surely come.

The guard inched his way forward, not letting his superior weight and momentum be used against him. He had the advantage of being larger and far stronger, but he had to bend further over to reach Janosh. He closed the gap to about 20 centimetres from Janosh then lunged again, grabbing at Janosh's shoulders.

Janosh had been expecting this attack. In fact that was what he wanted the bigger man to do. With one fluid movement he once again let the momentum of his heavier opponent be used against him. He grabbed the guard's coat under the armpits and pulled. The forward motion of the guard helped Janosh roll over backwards, throwing the guard over his head and onto his back. Janosh this time instantly leapt to his feet grabbed the guards left arm and pulled it up hard whilst firmly placing a boot across his windpipe, forcing the guards face round to the side and into the dirt.

"Do you give in Clavin?" he asked calmly of his prone opponent. "Or do I carry on until I have to kill you, like your friend over there?"

Clavin thought for a second before he relaxed. Janosh took this as a sign of giving in and released him. Janosh backed away, watching the guard carefully. He then turned to Aisha, "You OK with that?" nodding at her gun.

"I think so. I've had gun practice as a defence training class, and this is just a different type of gun". She turned the gun sideways to have a proper look at it.

Janosh then turned to Eric, "Everything under control over there?"

"No worries mate", he said back in a fake Australian accent.

"Sorry, is there something wrong with your voice?" Janosh asked.

"Erm, no, I was being funny, it's what Tom and I always used to say to each other, sorry" he smiled weakly, embarrassed.

Janosh looked at him for a beat before remembering that he was from a different galaxy, and decided to leave it as some quirk of his character.

"Right, Skaler" looking at him now.

But before he could get anymore out there was a little scuffle behind him.

"Janosh", he turned as his name was called in a strained way.

He hadn't been watching the guard. Aisha had been admiring the Rexon weapon and didn't see him sneak up, grab the gun off her and place his free arm around her neck.

"Ah, well done, my good friend" Nerith breathed a huge sigh, as if he'd been holding his breath all this time wondering what fate these others had in store for him. "I'll personally inform K'nash of your victory here".

Janosh kept his gaze on the guard swung his left and swung his arm directly behind him and pointed to the end of Nerith's nose. "Shut it Slimy, this isn't over yet." He then rocked backwards slightly and flicked the end of his nose with his middle finger.

"Ow, that hurt", Nerith mumbled into his hands, checking them to see if there was any blood.

Ashton, who had also been hovering close by sniggered. He admired Janosh for his leadership abilities, and for his guile, but also his humour, which was quite dark.

Eric looked at Ashton, who just winked at him, then turned and winked at Aisha.

They all understood what the Hawcon leader meant.

Eric waited, knowing the signal would come, his gun aimed at the guard, knowing he would clearly hit Aisha if he took a shot at this moment.

It happened in a flurry of wings. Two Hawcon who had leapt into the beam were given the nod by Ashton to swoop down at the guard. He'd been so intent on focusing his energy towards Janosh that he'd forgot about everyone else around. The Hawcon flashed back and forth for a second, and he flailed at them with the weapon, keeping a firm grip on Aisha's throat.

This was Aisha's signal to use her defence training, and she started to sing. She brought her elbow back and hard into his solar plexus, taking the wind out of the guard.

Janosh smiled, "S", he whispered.

Then she stamped on his instep, making the guard stumble to his side.

"I", said Janosh, quietly to himself.

Aisha's arm had powered up and round in an arc, and everyone winced at crunch of Aisha's fist connecting with the Guard's nose, breaking it instantly, spewing blood all over his face.

"N," Janosh continued spelling the word out. "Firm hit, well done." He was enjoying his favourite pupils work.

The Guard had released his grip on her throat, but she continued the assault, as she swung her arm back and her fist landed firmly in the guard's groin, which didn't have any effect at all. Aisha rolled round and away to her left and looked at Janosh, a look of horror on her face.

"Ah, yes, I forgot to tell you." Janosh added with a smile, "They don't have a groin, well not there anyway."

The guard's eyes glowed hatred and he brought his attention back to his first target, Janosh. He lowered the gun back down towards him.

Janosh watched as this all unfolded before him, but didn't react fast enough as a trigger clicked and a muzzle of a gun flashed.

The Guard's hatred slowly diminished as he saw Janosh fall to the ground. He couldn't understand why, as he hadn't pulled the trigger.

Eric had seen his chance once Aisha had stepped away from the guards grip. He'd waited a split second, wondering if he was going to give up. As the Guard's gun was being aimed towards Janosh, Eric didn't hesitate, taking aim and fired a single shot, cleanly hitting the guard squarely in the chest, killing him.

Janosh swung round to Eric as he saw the guard fall backwards, "Nice shot," and saw the confusion on the young man's face. "You OK?"

Eric was stunned for a second, as it was the first time he'd fired a real gun, and he'd never killed anyone before. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it as Janosh put his hand on his shoulder. Feelings of guilt and revulsion swarmed up within Eric as the realisation of killing someone hit him. It took a few more breaths before he looked at Janosh and nodded letting a weak smile cross his face to show he was as OK as he could be.

"Anyone recognise where we are?" Janosh asked of the party around him.

He was met with shakes of heads and the odd "no".

"Skaler, did you or Ashton see which set of symbols Nerith was about to use to get us to the ship orbiting Ansolon?" he looked at both and was pleased to see Skaler start scrolling through the symbols.

"How come you didn't ask me?" Nerith enquired, quite upset to be not part of the winning team.

"Because" Aisha added with hatred in her voice, "Janosh summed you up before, a sniveling little toad. I believe you deserves worse than those two." She had started to walk towards him, pointing the gun she'd picked up at his head. Nerith backed away, tripping over a fallen guard. Fear widened his eyes as he lay next to his former and very dead ally.

"Get into bed with the enemy, and you deserve to stay there", Janosh quietly said as he bent over to help him up. "You're coming with us."

"I am not" he protested.

"OK," said Eric, turning his feelings of anger and guilt into sarcasm, "Stay here, wherever here is, and rot, I personally don't care either way. If you look round, there's no-one to be seen, in fact, looking at the speed of that moon rising over there, I'd say that we're not on the same planet."

Everyone turned to where Eric was now pointing.

"He's right, Slimy, there's no planets in our galaxy that have a moon that moves that fast." Janosh added.

"So," Eric repeated. "Stay here, on a distant planet, probably alone, or come with us." Eric pointed the gun at Nerith. "It's your choice."

Nerith didn't need too long to realise which was the slightly better option. "When you put it that way, I might as well tag along" and smiled at everyone, cautiously.

Never Forgotten Hero

"Go!" Ian gave the command. He stood up and watched 7 of the Rexon guards getting dragged backwards into the surrounding bushes as a bubble of light flashed before his eyes, distracting his line of sight. Damn, thunderflashes! He thought to himself as the firefight began.

Ian could see muzzle flashes as weapons were fired. He blinked a couple of times as a figure raced towards him, waiting a split second to confirm that it was an enemy target. He fired and blinked some more, willing his pupils to open as fast as they could.

The firing stopped within a matter of seconds and Ian saw Dicko lead two Rexon soldiers back into the small open area in the centre of the bushes. His team appeared from various points and he made a quick note of who was there, and was pleased when he counted everyone.

"Thank you Mr.Jackson, it was very timely of you to appear and assist us like that." The small winged figure of Haydin, one of Ashton's closest friends flew down and bowed before Ian.

"You were doing very well with your trap, yet it wasn't timely enough, my good friend." Ian sighed.

"I'm sorry Major Jackson, ww knew our plan would increase the odds of survival for Ashton and the others, but decrease or odds of survival." He looked around at the mixed group of winged Hawcon and MI9 Soldiers who were checking the fallen Rexon guards and taking the onces still alive into captivity. "But your arrival gave us a far better chance of survival."

"No," Ian realised Haydin had misinterpreted what he's said, "I mean that if we'd have arrived even a single minute earlier, then we could have saved them all." Ian scratched his chin involuntarily.

"Ah, I see what you mean." Haydin replied.

"Ha ha ha."

Everyone turned to see one of the fallen Rexon guards laughing.

"Something funny, lad?" Captain Lancaster asked.

"Ha ha ha." The gurgling laughing noise kept coming from the guard.

Lanky raised his weapon and pointing at the Rexon's head. "Come on, what's comical?" Anger was evident in his voice as he closed in.

"He probably doesn't speak English Lanky." Leutenant Dickson replied.

"Ha ha ha, human speak little." Ankor, a Rexon Soldier replied in Pidgeon-English. He spat out a little green liquid.

"What's that?" Corporal Taylor asked.

"Blood." Lanky replied. "Dirty green Rexon blood." Lanky ground the words out between his teeth as he took a closer look at the soldier. "He's took one to the shoulder as well." He noted the similar green oozing gloop that slowly crept down the front of the jacket. "He'll live, for now." He added sarcastically.

Ian had noted the tinge of anger in Lanky's voice and made a mental note to have a quiet word with him afterwards to see if there was some other problem. He always thought of Captain Lancaster as a model soldier, keeping emotions out of the situation, helping him to keep a clear mind on the task in hand. The touch of anger in his voice was out of sync with Lanky's normal professional attitude.

"See, he does speak it, even if it's pidgeon-english." Lanky nudged Ankor, making him stumble backwards. "Don't you?"

"Small worth Human snout-animal."

"Are you calling me a worthless pig?" Lanky jabbed the muzzle of his rifle into Ankor's chest

Ian could see the anger starting to rise. "Lanky?"

"Bit of humans word I do." Ankor replied, then looked at Ian. "Please, Leader now gone you thank."

"It's Thank You, you alien half-wit." Lanky jabbed the muzzle even harder into Ankor's chest. "Thank – You".

"One, we have with us, of you types." Ankor laughed.

"What?" Lanky turned to everyone else, to see if they understood what the Rexon soldier meant.

Ankor seized his chance, as Lanky was distracted; he snatched the gun out of the Captain's grip, pirouetted around, slamming his leg across the back of Lanky's, felling him in one swift move. The defiant Rexon soldier finished his pirouette, rolled across the floor, got onto one knee, aimed and fired at Ian.

Everyone was in complete shock at how fast everything had happened.

That was everyone except Corporal Taylor and Lieutenant Dickson.

Mark Taylor saw the Rexon guard remove Lanky's weapon, drop the Captain to the floor and roll. He realised that Ian was the Target took two quick strides before diving across the front of the aimed weapon.

Dicko watched as Corporal Taylor took the burst of 6 bullets. She brought her weapon up to her shoulder and fired a deadly double tap into the Rexon's head.

"Mark?" Ian shouted, racing over to the fallen comrade, not understanding what had just happened in the blur before his eyes, apart from seeing one of his team bravely leap before a live weapon to save and protect him.

Dicko kicked Lanky's weapon away from the Rexon soldier, checking she had killed him.

Lanky slowly picked himself up, shaking his head to remove the fuzzy feeling he had from hitting the floor so hard. "Ian?" He asked seeing his Major crouching over the Corporal. "Taylor?" His voice drifted off as he realised what had happened, and that it was his fault.

Ian cradled Mark's head, and shot an angry glare at his Captain. He turned back to the fallen Hero, tears started to creep into the corners and his voice caught in his throat, "Why mate, you didn't need to do that?"

Mark had a string of evenly spaced red holes; the first in his cheek, the next in his throat, one in his upper chest, then three splatters of silver metal down his bullet proof vest. There was one final red splodge in his groin. He managed to splutter out his words, his tongue thick with blood. "Laura'th gonna kill me for taking one in ma tackle thir."

Ian smiled, "Keep smiling lad, we'll get you back to her in a jiffy." He swallowed hard.

"Thankth thir." Mark coughed up more blood.

Ian watched as blood pumped out of the other holes whenever the young Corporal coughed. "It's me that should be thanking you, for being an idiot," he pulled his mouth into the strongest smile that he could muster, but his eyes told a totally different and very sad tale. "For being the hero we know you are."

Mark smiled, using his last ounce of strength within him, baring his teeth in a crooked grimace of a smile. He held that for a second before closing his eyes for the final time.

Attack.

"Got it", Skaler shouted, who had been carefully scrolling through the symbols, and only now looked up from the Kylapitar. He saw the moon racing across the sky. "Flaming Hell, where did that come from. There isn't one of them on Ansolon."

"We're not on Ansolon anymore, Mate." Eric said.

"Yes, that is the correct sequence of symbols" Ashton confirmed from Skaler's shoulder.

Eric nodded at Skaler. "Right, everyone let's get ready." He called the group in around them, and then looked at Aisha, "We need to be ready for anything. Stay calm; take a clear aim, and then squeeze."

Janosh smiled as he let Eric lead the troop with a natural instinct.

They all huddled around Skaler, all faced outwards, ready for anything.

"Skaler", Eric said, "Go!"

Skaler pressed the button and they were enveloped in the balloon of light once more.

The flash disappeared.

"Clear!" Eric called after he'd scanned the area infront of him.

"Clear!", Aisha replied. "Clear!" Janosh next. "Clear!" Ashton completed the quadrant checks.

They were in a large, relatively empty grey coloured room. There were no Rexon, and the door was closed. Well lit, there were storage racks containing large pieces of what looked like engines and body panels, and some handling machines neatly parked along one side. Thick umbilical cords snaked from the machines and into the far wall, which Eric presumed they were on charge. In a corner stood a pedestal, and Ashton flew over to check that out first.

About 1 metre high, it was angled at the top, like a lectern. A touch screen showed various symbols neatly arranged into groups. "I can only assume", he started and waited a second as he hovered, watching the symbols, "as it shows a few of the same symbols as the Kylapitar, that this device is probably the controller for a very large transportation device."

Eric looked at the floor and noticed a large circle, 30 metres in diameter painted on the floor. He nudged Nerith in the back with his gun, "Is it?"

"Yes, your little Hawcon friend is quite correct" he added smiling back at Eric. "We're in a storage and transportation hangar on the Rexon mother ship that's orbiting Ansolon." He hoped his help was being appreciated. "I could show you how it works if you like?" and he started to walk over to the control with one hand out ahead of him.

He stopped suddenly, his path blocked by Aisha with the other gun, "Don't you touch a thing, unless we tell you to, got it toad?"

"Oh yes," he recoiled back from her, "I understand completely" and he laughed nervously, "If there's anything I can help you with, you only have to ask" looking from Aisha to Eric to Janosh.

"And does it transport anything in this circle?" Eric asked.

"Erm, I believe so, in a dome shame, so from the rim up to a maximum of 15 metres high in the centre" Nerith replied.

Janosh looked at Ashton, and both silently sniggered. Neither had seen the markings on the floor.

"Where are the prisoners kept?" Eric asked, "And tell me the truth first time, or I will let her shoot you" pointing to Aisha with an open hand.

"They are on a level above us, in a similar storage room to this." His hands crawled over each other nervously. "The easiest way is to use one of the service ducts that run through the ship, a bit like the secret passages in the palace, Princess." He looked for some sign of reassurance from her. Aisha glared at him. "Anyway, you can get into the nearest one through that access panel over there, next to the handling devices.

Skaler walked over and opened a small square door in the wall, about 80 centimetres square. Looking through the opening he called out, "There's some steps which go up," he assessed the distance. "About 40 metres which would get us to the room above", he looked at Nerith and nodded, "True to your word, so far."

"Right, let's go and free the prisoners," Eric explained, "Including you" he pointed at Nerith.

"I've got some other business to deal with." Janosh waited for a sign of acknowledgement from Eric, then looking at his watch, "How long do you think you'll need?"

"Let's meet back here in 1 hour" Eric answered, checking with Aisha, who gave him a single nod.

"Good, that should be long enough for me" Janosh gave a thumbs up sign to Eric, "And if I'm not back here, just get off the ship, I'll sort myself out, OK?" He added, ensuring Eric understood what he meant.

Eric nodded back, "OK, see you later." He nudged the gun into Nerith's Back, "Through there, please." he motioned towards the access panel with his head, "and nothing funny."

"Is he a comedian?" Ashton asked of Skaler.

"I think it's one of those off-world sayings" Skaler answered, "I thought he was just a bit weird, 'cus he keeps coming out with strange things." He looked at Eric and smiled. "He probably can't help it, I've heard that the airs too thin, makes 'em go loopy."

Janosh headed towards the huge main door of the hangar. He waited and watched everyone get into the access passage, gave Eric a thumb-up sign, and saw the hatch close. It was only then that he the smaller personnel exit from the room.

Lady Luck.

The bubble cleared in the middle of the MI9 Nether Kellett quarry base.

"Let's get Mark to the Doc," Ian Jackson nodded to Dicko, Lanky Sergeant Bentley, who all picked up their fallen comrade on the portable stretcher. "Everyone else get cleaned up, we'll de-brief in 30 minutes in the Top-level Conference Room B guys." He called to the other soldiers. Ian glanced at his watch, noting the time, 6:33pm.

2 soldiers dashed over to them carrying medical equipment on a hospital trolley. It was standard procedure to have two members of Nether Kellet staff available, trained to paramedic levels, ready to react whenever anyone came back. The pair would be on standby for up to 8 hours before handing over to the next shift. This process had been enacted ever since Ian and his team had beamed into the centre of a Rexon military camp, and had to endure a barrage of enemy weaponry. They quickly returned, but with quite a few injuries. It had taken the medical team only 3 minutes 53 seconds to react and get the right people and equipment from the upper level medical facility down to the beam-in site within the base of the quarry. Alas, for one soldier, that was 4 minutes too long as she'd suffered a heart attack at the moment they'd beamed into the Rexon camp. It took 46 seconds for the Sergeant in charge of the Beamee to get Earth's symbols back on the screen and press the button, as the team were having to throw everything they had back at the Rexon. That also meant that there was no-one to perform mouth to mouth, and chest compressions. As soon as they got back on Earth, Ian reacted and started the CPR on Corporal Walters, but it wasn't enough.

Ian had written the report with tear filled eyes, knowing that he'd lost a good soldier, and a friend. Corporal Walters and her husband lived in the same village as Ian and his wife, and all of them met regularly at the local pub. It was noted that a portable de-fibrillater would have saved her life. He'd got Colonel Kelsall's signature on the paperwork an hour later, and they became standard issue within the medic-packs carried by each team on a mission, and also by the waiting paramedics.

Ian remembered that day, knowing something could have been done if they'd been quicker. This time, as the medics helped transfer Corporal Taylor onto the medical trolley, he looked at the fallen comrade and knew there was nothing he could have done.

"Any luck?" Sergeant "Cock-up" Cockburn asked as he saw Ian walking back to his office.

"Ha!" Ian laughed ruefully. "Luck, such a strange word," He looked at Cock-up with sad and very angry eyes. He pulled in a long slow breath, and let it out and sighed realising Cock-up wasn't the one he was angry at, or the reason why he was so upset. "No, but we could have done with a tiny bit more luck."

"Back to mine, Sir." Cock-up's words were more of a command as he guided his Major into his office, sat him down, opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out two cut glass tumblers and a bottle of 18 year old Tallisker whisky. "I realise that saying this is only words to you at the moment, but please, don't beat yourself up over what's happened." He handed over a half filled glass. "Walters wasn't your fault, as any of us could suffer some other serious problem or illness whilst on a mission." He leant his elbows onto his knees as he looked as this Commanding Officer, and friend. "Look, I could go on a mission with you, fall over and knock myself out, and would you blame yourself for that?"

Ian took a large gulp and held it on his tongue for a few moments, turning Cock-up's words around in his head as he rolled the warming liquid around his mouth. A smile tweaked at his cheek. "No, not in those circumstances, as, knowing how accident prone you are, we have a book on when it will happen." He sighed, the moment of humour vapourising away once more, along with the warmth of the Malt. "But for both Karen and Mark, yes, I will beat myself up over it, they were under my command."

"OK, changing tack slightly." Cock-up placed his glass onto his desk. "Did you find Eric Peterson?"

Ian huffed his annoyance. "That luck thing again. We were so close Mate. He was there, 30 metres away, and then pop, gone."

"Gone, what, killed?" Cock-ups voice rose in shock.

"No, beamed off to somewhere."

"OK, there's no chance you saw the destination symbols."

"No." Ian had a tiny thought ping at the back of his mind, a mouse-like squeak of an idea forming, although it was currently lost in the roar of grief that swept over everything. He took a final swig, stood up and placed the glass next to Cock-up's. "Cheers Mate, I'll be OK, unfortunately I've got to go and de-brief Gordon and the Guys." He walked over to the door of Cock-up's small office, stopping and turning to his friend, a weak smile on his face. "I mean it, thank you."

Freedom.

Skaler opened the access door at the top of the stairs very slowly. He listened carefully, only hearing a low hum and the occasional dull ping noise coming from the room. He turned back to everyone waiting patiently on the ladder below, "Sounds clear."

"Send Ashton in first." Eric called up from the bottom of the stairs.

The diminutive winged figure nodded and slipped through the gap and flew around the room, bobbing up from behind benches and equipment. After a minute he returned to the door. "Yes, it is clear."

The room was similar in size to the one they'd come from, about 200 metres square by 40 metres high. It was dimly lit, but they could make out over a large series of clean metal topped benches at one end, cupboards lined along one wall, but the strangest adornment was roughly a hundred 2 metre wide strips of plastic hanging from the ceiling.

Aisha, who had been one of the first in the room, focused more closely on the strips. She tried to make out the shapes that were within the plastic. "Oh my god, there's people in them", her hand shot over her mouth as the shock hit her.

Everyone looked up and realised what she meant. It was if these people had been vacuum packed and then hung up for storage.

Skaler walked over to the nearest bench, as something twinkling there had caught his eye. "Flaming Hell", he cussed, recoiling away.

Aisha wondered what was going on, until she also saw it.

The lighting behind them was catching on the side of a scalpel rolling back and forth in a shallow well on the nearest bench. But what had shocked them both was the blood that was still dripping from the end of it, slowly coagulating in the air, turning to glue before it pinged into a bucket on the floor.

Skaler composed himself as they looked at the other instruments on what they quickly realised was a surgeons table. About 3 metres long by 1 metre wide, there lay an array of vicious looking stainless tools of various shapes that were strewn around the sides. They didn't want to understand how they would be used, they knew that they would inflict pain and torture, if used on someone who was still alive.

Ashton, who had been slowly circling the room for a second time, checking that it was safe, came back to them and looked at the table, "Oh my, that is not something I would have been happy to never see if I lived to 400."

Eric had walked over with the quivering Nerith in tow. "Guys, there are probably more than 200 people in here," He rested an hand on Skaler's shoulder, "We can't leave them here to be operated on whenever those animals feel the whim." He walked over to an adjacent bench which had a selection of electronic equipment and racks full of vials of blood. "I think this is where they are testing out the diseases." He was horrified at the thoughts of what the Rexon were doing. "Tom told me about this." He said solemnly, thinking about what Tom must have endured.

"Why, though?" Aisha asked him, tears filling her eyes.

"They want to kill us all, wipe us off our planets", and he looked at the blood that was being stored, "they use the blood to test various diseases, until they can find the most efficient one that will kill us all."

"That's where the Sarf came from" the thought immediately made her angrier. "They created it to kill us all, and then take over a nice clean planet." her breathing became heavier, "They blamed you for it." She looked at Eric. "That was the excuse they were using to capture you. They're pure evil." She swept the gun across all the equipment and sent it crashing to the floor. "Whoa!" Skaler flinched and leapt back out of the way as the blood splattered everywhere.

Eric had a plan. "Let's get them out of those bags and down to the planet, to be buried in peace."

He threw the strap of the gun over his head and let if slap firmly against his back. "Come on Aisha" he shouted firmly at her, his eyes had narrowed, and his breathing deepened as the anger welled up within. Over the last few days, Eric had learnt to use the anger to help give him the strength and drive to deal with the task ahead. He looked at Aisha. "Take Nerith, as he seems to understand their symbols and find a control panel to lower them down, I'll take Skaler and the other Hawcon to go and start to..." He wondered what words he could use, the only ones that came into his mind seemed so cruel, so inhuman. "We'll go and unpack them." He cringed at the reality of his words.

Aisha tilted her head to one side as she looked at Nerith, "You, now," she held the gun at her waist, but raised the barrel to point at his head. "Let's get on with it, shall we?" She then flicked the barrel to emphasise that she wanted him to move.

He hunched over slightly, trying to make himself a smaller target, as he knew she would willingly shoot him where he stood. "Yes, princess, certainly", he held up his hands before him, pleading for his life. "I would say that it's probably over here" and walked over to a shadowy area to the side of the room, where a control panel on a similar looking pedestal to the one in the transport hangar below them stood.

Aisha followed him, the gun constantly tracking his movements.

"If I press this, it should switch on, I think" he smiled at Aisha as his hand hovered over the control panel. Aisha had moved around to just behind his left shoulder. She couldn't understand the symbols on the screen, but knew that she would be able to feel if he was doing something to put them all in danger. He then dabbed a block of symbols in the upper right hand corner of the screen with his middle finger

"That's the main mechanical systems menu", he nervously said to Aisha.

"Continue." She stabbed him in the back with the gun.

He flinched, "It's a little hard to concentrate, Princess when you're doing that"

"Tough, get on with it, or you'll never have to feel anything again" She said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, okay, I get the idea." he turned back to the screen, "Now this one" he dabbed the picture on a button, "is for the motors."

Above them the sound of the electric motors starting up made Aisha glance away and look up. Her eyes shot back down to Nerith, who was trying his best to smile at her. At that moment, after everything he'd done, allying himself with these retched aliens, she hated that wiry grin more than ever.

"Lower them, slowly" she said, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten what he was doing.

"Yes," he looked back at the symbols on a new pop-up menu, "This will be the first section", and dabbed the symbol.

The note of the motor changed as the gears engaged and were put under load. Slowly, the first strip of bodies nearest to them started to lower. "Eric", she called over to him, "It's these first, then I presume it will go across this end of the room, row by row."

Eric and Skaler dashed over to the now lowering strip. They looked at the body at the bottom being lowered. "They've got tubes going into them" Skaler said, speaking his thoughts, "What are they for?"

"Probably to get blood out of them and to preserve them longer" The whole thing was made Eric's stomach retch, but anger kept it in check.

"It's not right", Skaler added, "Killing them and then keeping them fresh." He looked at the face of the person, as they neared the floor. "He looks so peaceful."

The first body touched the ground; its eyes sprang open, looking straight at them.

"Aaaarrrggghhhh!" Skaler screamed, and leapt back in shock.

"What?" Eric asked anxiously, having not seen what was happening.

Skaler raised a shaking hand and pointed at the body being lowered, and in a voice that was far shakier than his hand said, "They're still alive."

Big Brother.

Janosh crept stealthily from the hangar and headed along the passages towards his chosen destination. He had been on this ship before, and knew where to go, choosing to use the smaller side passages. He'd noted on his previous official visits that the ship was made up of sectional pieces, with welded flanges that jutted into the walkway. The Flanges arched up on both sides to meet at the apex, giving them a spiritual look. This also created many places where Janosh could hide quickly, if needed, when any Rexon guards, scientists and dignitaries passed by on parallel passages.

He'd also watched the Rexon guides during his visits carefully, memorising the sequence of symbols needed on the keypads to gain access to anywhere in the ship. He was amazed at the fact that they never changed their codes, believing the simple humans could never hope to learn them.

He heard two guards approaching down a perpendicular corridor and keyed the entrance code into the nearest room. The door swished back and was pleased to see that it was dark and deserted. He dived in and the door swished shut. Sensors in the room automatically picked out his movement and switched on the lights. Janosh smiled as he'd made an opportune choice: it was an arsenal stacked with Rexon hand guns and rifles. Janosh opted for a hand gun, as it was smaller, lighter and more inconspicuous, if confronted by the enemy.

Waiting for the guards to pass by outside, his eyes roamed around the room. They look interesting, he spotted 10 large devices, 60 centimetres cubed, sitting on shelving within the shadows at the rear of the room. He assumed they were bombs, and probably a lot more powerful than the one that had killed Arran Vorlet, having seen how destructive that one had been.

Digging his left hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small box, 5 centimetres cubed with a display screen and a row of buttons on its top side. He looked at his watch and then clicked a single button on the device. The small display sprang into life, showing 6 zeros, set in pairs with colons between. They all flashed. 50 minutes to the reassemble point; let's give it another 5, for good measure, he thought as he pressed a combination of buttons until it read 00:55:00. Janosh waited a second, checked his watch again, looked at the door, and heard nothing. He then pressed the central red button. The display changed instantly from 00:55:00 to 00:54:59 as the timer started to count down. He pushed his own tiny bomb behind one of to its bigger brothers, and then left the arsenal, back to his initial quest.

Reactions

Ian Jackson heard the commotion as he walked along the portakabins corridors of the upper levels of the Nether Kellett MI9 base. He hoped Colonel Kelsall would be out of earshot at the far side of the facility, as this wasn't good for morale. "WHOA, WHOA!" He shouted as he attempted to calm the noisy conference room down that he'd just walked into. It was a very large square room, with a set of tables sat end to end going round the room; a large central space was left vacant for the meeting coordinator to fill.

Captain "Lanky" Lancaster sat on the left hand side, his arms folded tightly across his chest, eyes gazing into the distance, out of the windows and across the vista towards the Bowland fells that sat behind the military facility.

"How the hell can he just sit there and say nothing?" Lieutenant "Dicko" Dickson's arms flailed around angrily as she asked Ian.

"Whoa!" Ian lowered his palms slowly, easing the heat from the argument he'd just walked into the midst of. "Right, Dicko, what's the problem with Lanky?"

"Mark is dead and he couldn't give a flying.."

"Whoa!" Ian stopped her once more as she leapt up out of her chair. "Sit down." He asked firmly, letting the command be heard above the anger. After a few seconds, his voice softened as he repeated the command. "Sit, please." He watched her slump slowly into the chair, her eyes throwing daggers across the meeting room table. "I know you, Mark & Laura were very good friends, and it's terrible what's happened, but this isn't the way."

"What! And that is?" She flailed an arm towards the Captain opposite her as the anger burst out once more. "That's the way, being devoid of emotion?" Dicko retorted.

"Come on, you've got a degree in Psychology, how people deal with all of this is unique to each person, each one of us will be going through the various stages from denial to acceptance, but we will all be having a full psyche evaluations over the next 12 hours," Ian looked from one face to another, "And we can let the Doc see how everyone is coping, and if it's the healthy way for that person." Ian paused for a few seconds to let the atmosphere dwindle, although he took the time to glance for a second time at Captain Lancaster, and was surprised to see how calmly Lanky was acting. "Let's get through this, my door is open to any of if you want to talk., but until we get cleared for duty we're not going anywhere, and we have to remember that the safe retrieval of Eric Peterson is still our number 1 priority, so the sooner we're cleared, the sooner we can go and get him."

At that moment the door opened and in walked Colonel Kelsall. They all leapt to attention.

"At ease guys, thank you." He walked to the top of the table and sat down so that he was directly facing the screen. "Ok Ian, what have you got?"

The Major tapped a couple of keys on his tablet computer and the overhead projector burst into life. "Right Colonel, we arrived on Theyta Alpha 5 at 11:25am GMT and this is what happened." Ian tapped a final key and the recording from Ian's helmet camera filled the screen.

They quietly watched the 6 minutes of footage, from the moment the beamee's light dissipated to the arrival back in the Nether Kellett quarry. Ian glanced to see Dicko discretely wipe a couple of tears away from her face as they watched the footage of Ian knelt over the fallen soldier once more.

The whole room was eerily quiet as the video ended.

"Ok I've seen enough from that one angle." Gordon leant forward. "I'll get the paperwork started for Corporal Taylor's commendation."

"Thank you Sir." Dicko was the first to reply.

"And you." He jabbed a finger in Ian's direction. "Watch all the footage and find a clue as to where that young man has got to."

"Sir." Ian replied automatically, but his mind was elsewhere. He was quietly pleased that Gordon hadn't wanted to see all the action from the other head-cams as Ian had already spotted something that he needed to see from the various angles before he could be sure of what was happening. "Dicko, do you want to tell Laura?"

"Please." Her voice caught in her throat, but she wanted to be the one to do it.

"Let's do the psyche evaluation in rank order, so Lanky, I want you to be the first to go and see the Doc, and then everyone else can follow down to Corporal..." Ian stopped as he realised that there had only been only one member of his team at that rank. "Sorry, from the Captain down to the Sergeants." He looked around everyone, pausing on Lanky to see if there were any reactions. "And finally get some rest as I have a feeling we'll be going out again fairly quickly."

"Sir." Lanky got up and marched out before anyone else had moved.

Ian shrugged his shoulders at Dicko, whose arms were expressing her anger once more. The door crashed as Lanky barged his way out, and Ian watched him carefully, wondering why he was acting that way. It didn't take long before his mind soon drifted off to what he thought he'd glimpsed in his footage. He needed to see all the other cameras angles very quickly, and he needed Cock-up's assitance to help find out where Eric may have beamed out to.

Reunion.

Skaler looked at the person jerking back and forth in the plastic bag. The bodies were in a liquid within the strip, and he presumed that the pipes were being used for feeding them and also for keeping them sedated.

"SKALER," Eric shouted at him, snapping his attention back to the task in hand, "Grab that scalpel on there and cut this bag open, we can let them out as they drop down." He pointed to the surgeons table, where the scalpel was sat in its pool of blood.

Skaler dashed over and returned with the instrument. He looked at it for a second, wondering what pain it had inflicted, and on how many victims.

"SKALER, NOW!" Eric shouted again, he knew what was going through his mind. "Don't think about what it has done, what it was used for, 'cus you can't do anything about that. The past is the past, and we have to look at the present and the future. Focus on what good it can be used for now." Eric had moved round behind the person to help support their body, as their feet were now on the floor and the strip was still dropping down. "Slice it here" and he made an imaginary line with his finger above the first and below the second person. There was a gap of about 50 centimetres, which was more than enough for Skaler to whip the sharp scalpel across, while it descended.

The first body fell backwards into Eric's waiting arms. What neither he nor Skaler had realised was the amount of liquid in the bag, and a small waterfall of fluids gushed out and created a wave across the floor of the room, as the contents of the whole strip emptied in one quick flush. This now created two new problems.

"Aisha, speed up the drop", he shouted, trying to solve problem number one. "There's about 10 or 12 in each strip and the rest are just dangling in there, hopefully getting some air." He helped the first one out of the bag, and dragged them away from the area that he suddenly realised was about to be filled with bodies.

"Do it!" Aisha grunted to Nerith as they both looked back at the screen.

He pressed another button and Aisha looked up to where the sound of the motors went up an octave. She then looked over to Eric and Skaler, and saw that the strip was descending quicker. Skaler was back on his feet, the force of the wave of fluids having knocked them out from under him. He was soon slicing away, splitting the bags apart, with Eric on the other side dragging bodies out of the way.

The second problem Eric had seen was also immediately realised and attended to by Ashton and his fellow Hawcon. The vast wash of liquids ran across the floor of the room, and was only slowly emptying down a small drain. This still left a small wave that was slowly and purposefully heading towards its only other exit, the hangar door. Ashton had realised as soon as the liquid fell that they had to stop it reaching the door, because if it passed under and into the adjacent passage, their rescue mission would be put in jeopardy.

Ashton quickly organised them into two groups, one to find materials to help stem the flow, and the second smaller group to see if there was another way to get rid of the liquid. This was because Ashton had roughly calculated that by the 5th bag, the whole room would be a few centimetres deep, the current drain being nowhere near big enough to cope.

"Start lowering the next one" Eric called over to Aisha.

Nerith didn't need any encouragement from his captor, and he quickly pressed a short sequence of symbols and the second bag started lowering quickly.

Eric looked around the room while they waited, "Ashton" he shouted, "Use these", and he reached down and picked up the discarded bags.

Ashton and three others swiftly flew across the room, "Brilliant idea, Eric" and he nodded in gratitude for his help, and resourcefulness.

Eric returned to his task of steadying the bags for Skaler to cut through, and help the rescued people out of them. He didn't see the regular flurry of wings as the Hawcon quickly whipped away the used bags to use as a dam against the outer door.

By the time they'd emptied the contents of the 8th bag, the room was getting very full of people from various races. Aisha had occasionally glanced over between keeping a very close eye on Nerith and had seen that there were people from at least 4 other planets within her galaxy alone. There was also a collection of faces that although slightly different, were still all humans. She was amazed and horrified to think that the Rexon had collected all these people together in one area, simply to find a singular way of wiping them all out.

"So, what do you know about them" she nudged Nerith in the back with the gun again.

"Not a great deal, you Highness" he winced at the bruising from the digs in the same spot.

"You know everything," she hissed at him, thinking of all the times he must have spied on her, "You always find out as much as you can, you need to do it, it's like a drug to you."

His head dropped, he'd never seen it that way before, "Your father asked me to investigate the Rexon, find out whatever I could, where they were from? Why they had really come here? Things like that." His head had bowed low and he shrank away from her.

"And...." she left the ending open for him to continue.

"They're a race of aliens from a dying Galaxy"

"Aw diddums," she added as if she was talking to a small child who had tumbled and grazed their knee.

"They'd been in a 1000 year war with a neighbouring galaxy, who found a way to accelerate the death of their sun." Nerith said this with a twinge of sadness.

"Carry on." She didn't care about his feelings towards them, or what their plight had been.

"They had to find other galaxies to help them survive, somewhere for them to live." He sounded as if he was pleading their case for them. "Their numbers were few, they had very few ships, and so they looked for a suitable new home."

"But why kill us all, why not come in peace and ask. We'd help them." She asked more to herself than to him.

Nerith knew it had been rhetorical, but he answered her anyway. "They don't trust us." he said with regret, "After 1000 years of constant warring, hundreds of generations learning that their neighbouring galaxy is their biggest enemy. They'd seen billions of their own people being massacred, and it made them a very untrusting race." He looked straight at her. "If it had happened here, on Ansolon, do you think that you'd be able to trust anyone ever again?"

Aisha thought it over for a moment, "We've been fighting the Mallesians for years, but I would never think to wipe out their whole planet." She replied to his question. "Not all Mallesians are warmongers, same as not all Theologerans are terrorists. It's normally the few that get the media coverage, the few that skew the message, the few that can get it wrong and taint everyone's perceptions, but I've been brought up to see the whole, to see others as equals first."

"All very easy to say Your Majesty, but you are a Princess, and have the wealth of position to sit up on high.

Aisha's rage flashed across her eyes. "My closest friends and the people I hold as dear as family come from all walk of life. Not all are Princes and Princesses. Mrs Preetam, the cook is like a grandmother to me, and I love her, yet to you she is a servant lower down the pecking order than you, someone to clamber over and stamp on as you strive to the top. No, I see the people first, not the rank, not the belief, not the disability, so even if I met a Mallesian, I wouldn't think they were here to kill me."

Nerith laughed. "So innocent a child you are."

"No, I will defend myself and protect others, if called upon, but your explanation still seems a little easy, there has to be more." She waited a beat to try to answer her own doubts, "Either you haven't told me everything, or they've told you a pack of lies."

"Aisha", Eric called over to her. She turned towards him. "We need to get some of these people out of here. We're getting quite full, especially with all the liquid in here as well." He turned back and helped another person out of the bag, pulling their tubes out of their mouths and nostrils that had been feeding them air, nourishment and sedatives. "It's OK, you're safe now" he said to the latest one, "can you stand?" and he looked up at their face and froze. "Tom?" He couldn't believe his eyes. "TOM!" he screamed as the smile danced across his face and he dove onto his best friend. "I thought they'd killed you" and he hugged him tightly.

Tom coughed up some liquid and blinked repeatedly as his senses rebooted. "I wished they had after spending 3 days in there," he looked at Eric and then coughed up some more fluids over Eric's shoulder, "But I'm glad they hadn't now." He smiled weakly at Eric.

"Can you stand, mate?" Eric asked.

"Yeah, but, what the hell are you doing here?"

"We're on a rescue mission." and he smiled at Tom, pleased with himself. "That's Skaler," nodding at him, who only fleetingly returned the acknowledgement, as he was now doing both jobs of cutting and emptying the bags. "He's a local thief from the planet below us. Over there is Aisha, she's a Princess, and stood next to her is Nerith, a toad as Janosh calls him, who was actually a spy for the Rexon."

"Whoa there, horsey." Tom said in a fake cowboy accent. "Last time we met you didn't believe I was back from the dead, now you're the hero with Fagan's mate, a Princess, a double agent and who's this Janosh and what are the Rexon?"

"Eric!", Skaler interrupted, the annoyance in his voice clear to everyone close by, "but can we do the reunion some other time and get back to the job." He raised his eyebrows at Eric to emphasise the sarcasm.

"Oh yeah, sorry Skaler", then stopped again as he turned to he turned to Tom, "Look, can you organise all of the more able people to help out emptying these bags, including a replacement for Skaler."

"Oi! I heard that," and he stopped part way through slicing a bag and pointed the scalpel at Eric. "I wasn't whinging about doing the flaming job, anything to play with something lethal is always fun." Skaler retorted, waving the scalpel about.

"Skaler, we have quite a few people here now, and we need to start getting them down to the surface." He pointed at the crowd that was quickly recovering from their ordeal. "Nerith can teach Aisha what to press up here, so that she can carry on without him. It shouldn't take long as she's watched him like a hawk anyway. You can take him back down with a load of these freed people into the hangar below, and beam them down to the surface." He stopped for a second as he quickly thought it all through to make sure he'd not missed anything out.

"What if he tricks us somehow?" Skaler asked. "He's not the most reliable, and you wouldn't know if he'd sent us into the middle of a Rexon camp, even with a gun to his head."

"Very true, but if you take the Kylapitar and beam down with the first bunch, if he has been a toad, have it ready and set to the hangar again, so that you can return everyone back here, if needed." He nodded to himself as he agreed with his plan. "And if everything seems OK, hand the weapon over to someone, to watch Nerith, beam yourself back up here and load up the next batch of escapees."

"Brilliant, safe and simple, and with a perfect back up plan as well," Skaler raised an eyebrow to Eric, "Your mindset is perfect for a crook, ever thought about a career change from being a Hero?"

"Just get on with it", Eric blushed slightly, as it was the second time he'd been called a Hero in two minutes, "Anyway, do this and you'll have started down that rocky road that will take you from a crook to a solid state gold medal wearing Hero"

Skaler shook his head slowly, but quite liked the idea of being a hero for once, deep down.

Thanks for the Memories.

Janosh reached his final destination, and he checked both ways along this main passage. He was pleased to see it was clear. Gently placing his ear against the door, he listened, and smiled as he heard the unmistakable clicks of a keyboard inside.

Hitting the sequence of symbols again on the adjacent keypad, he glanced along the passages for a final time as the doors opened. Janosh instinctively raised his gun, aiming it at the defenceless door as it revealed the room behind. "Good evening," he announced to the startled occupant. "You don't mind if I come in do you?" He knew it was a rhetorical question as he didn't care if the answer was 'no'. Janosh then stepped through the doorway, then to his left to tap the pad on the inside with a second sequence that he'd actually only seen once, immediately sealing and locking the doors behind him.

"Can you place your hands where I can see them, as I'd hate to have to kill you for something as silly as you 'accidentally' pressing an alarm button." He smiled with his mouth, his eyes told another story.

"I had expected you to arrive some time ago, after you'd managed to give my guards the slip in the woods." K'nash rested his elbows on the smooth top of the huge metallic desk before him and wiggled his spindly fingers in the air. "There, is that better." He returned the fake smile to Janosh.

"Much better, thank you."

"Please sit down," K'nash pointed to a vacant chair in front of his desk, "There's no need to be so formal about all this." He waited for Janosh to sit, "Would you like a drink?"

Janosh quickly scanned around the room. It was very big; the usual megalomaniacs desire to show off space as a means of how powerful they are. All around the walls were pictures of battles. The ones nearest to the door showed a junior officer holding a flag on a hill. They then moved chronologically along the wall, as the same officer went up through the ranks and was seen pictured with greater commanders receiving even more elaborate medals. Finally, it ended up with the ones behind the desk, which showed the side of a smiling K'nash, looking out of the large floor to ceiling windows on the bridge of presumably this ship, at a planet that had just been blown up.

"I see you're admiring my many achievements." K'nash had followed Janosh's eyes and was also looking at the pictures behind his chair.

"A strange way to remember how you slaughtered millions of innocent people." Janosh replied and sat down in the chair. It was made from a metal, moulded into a single smooth cup of, with a high wing back. A cushion had been placed in the base, but no comfort was given to the back of the chair.

"So?" K'nash waved his right hand and pointed to a small unit that was topped with glasses and an array of coloured liquids in bottles. "Would you like a drink?"

"No thank you", Janosh's patience stood firm at K'nash's games. "So, when did you find out about me?"

"We actually didn't know until Nerith followed the others, and we were extremely surprised when you turned up in the woods." K'nash's hands waved about as he talked, as if he needed to express the words in actions as well as sound. "I have to admit that you are very good, probably the best human our race has ever seen."

"And on how many worlds is that?" Janosh had an agenda, and was mentally ticking the items off the list.

"I do enjoy how direct you are." He looked admiringly at Janosh. "We've conquered many worlds, like yours, and I do admit that we have had to vacate the odd one." He smiled ruefully, and glanced back to the photograph behind him again. Janosh suddenly realised that 'vacate the odd one' meant it had then been completely destroyed.

"So how many galaxies are you present in, and what forces do you really have?" Janosh decided that the direct route was all he needed. He had the gun and wasn't too fussy about being coy.

"In real terms, at the last count, we were a planet of 3 billion which had endured a 1000 year war against a neighbouring galaxy." He said this as if it had been a minor schoolyard scuffle. "Our scientists eventually developed a weapon that destroyed their sun."

"Thus winning the war." Janosh added.

"Alas, the effect was that we created a radiation wave that passed through our own galaxy killing at least 90% of our population within weeks. We had to leave and find new worlds."

"So how come you try to take over, and not ask nicely, like normal people would do?"

"Because the stories of our invention of the planet destroyer traveled before us. We had used many methods to try to kill the enemy during our war, but that final solution was too great a burden. Our allies turned against us, fearing for their own lives. Word passed from galaxy to galaxy. We only had to travel through someone else's space to find that we we're suddenly under attack." His face was matter of fact, no trace of emotion.

"So, you've not had a nice journey," Janosh pulled his face in mock sympathy, "but why kill us?"

K'nash stayed completely still for a few seconds, then quite suddenly, he started to laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry Janosh, but I had to do this. I had to see if you would actually believe me, when you've got a gun pointing to my head." And he carried on laughing loudly.

Janosh was quite puzzled by this turn of events.

K'nash continued. "To hell with all these games." His face grew angry. "The truth is that there are many races in the galaxies that we've passed through. The worst of all of them are Humans. They have a will that succeeds any other race. They have countless histories on countless planets where they have all tried many methods of destroying themselves and everything they touch."

"So we have a colourful past, but we are evolving, at various speeds, with varied abilities, we are learning to adjust, to reach out and to grow."

K'nash looked straight at Janosh, "And that is also the problem, you are evolving, growing, developing." He waited a second, his eyes started to glare at Janosh. "You are growing stronger and traveling further."

"So tell me the real reason why you want us dead."

"Our 1000 years of war was against Humans. We learnt one thing over that time. You are like feeble little insects, savaging for scraps. You are a lower life form, something to be squashed under the heel of our boots." He let it sink in for a second and sat back in his chair, "We are here to extinguish the human race from every planet and every galaxy that we can find you on."

Clues.

"OK I didn't see anything there" Sergeant "Cock-up" Cockburn told Major Ian Jackson, as he finished watching the same footage that had been played only minutes earlier in the upper conference room.

"Alright then, let's look at Dicko's version."

They watched in silence as the events played before them. His heart sank when once again he saw the Rexon guard snatch Lanky's weapon and Corporal Taylor performed his act of heroism once more.

He sighed and rubbed his very tired eyes. "Lanky's?" He asked Cock-up to play the next footage.

They watched once more, and all the time Ian had the little nagging thought of how Lanky had not fully respected the Rexon guard. He could clearly hear the tinge of venom in his voice, the snappy actions of kicking his feet. This wasn't Lanky, and he wondered if he was also as tired as he felt.

They watched the three Sergeant's footage, Ian had been making small notes on a pad before him. He'd noted several actions by a couple of his team that hadn't been to plan, but what he thought he'd seen from the first footage wasn't there when he watched it all over a second, third, fourth time. He rubbed his eyes once more, tiredness and defeat creeping up over him.

Cock-up had been doing the same, methodically noting the times and brief comment as he saw tiny bits of information. There would be a distant glimpse of the Beamee, the position of a hand on the controls. All of these snippets could help, once pieced together like an episode of CSI. This was another one of Cock-up's forte.

"OK, Mark's footage please." Ian asked, a slight quiver in his voice.

Cock-up played the last piece of video.

Ian watched, knowing he'd not really seen anything from anyone else's viewpoint, apart from the first viewing of his own. He was now beginning to think he was trying too hard to find something, maybe eve invent something, but his gut instinct told him different, and that was something he had to listen to, as it was usually right..

Mark had been only a few feet away, and so the footage looked only slightly different to his own.

The room was eerily quiet, the sound on the 32 inch HD TV that Cock-up used as a secondary computer monitor had been lowered, as they knew all the noises that occurred. They watched the Rexon guards being felled by the Hawcon, the MI9 agents shooting, the two guards surrendering.

All of this was the same as he'd seen three times before.

Next was Lanky's maltreatment of the guard, and then, Ian leant forward. "Stop and go back 20 seconds please." It was there.

Cock-up scrolled his finger to the left, taking the timer back 20 seconds before pressing play. He knew that the Major had seen something, and he watched intently as the footage played once more.

"Maybe." Ian whispered out loud as the action ensued. "Can I have copies of all these videos sent to my office, so I can watch them once more?"

"What was it?" Cock-up hadn't seen anything.

"It might be me, but I need to go through them all once more."

Cock-up was intrigued. "I'm going back over them as I have a few things I've seen, so we can still do them together."

"No, it's OK." Ian replied.

"You've seen something, haven't you?"

"Maybe." Ian said finally.

"You said that before."

"I know, it's just a tiny thing but it's not fully clear, and I don't want to say anything as yet, as it might be wrong."

"OK." Cock-up wasn't convinced and made a mental note to replay them once Ian had left to see if he could spot the discrepancy, as well as find his information.

"Right, I need to check a few other things, but thank you." Ian said, heading for the door. "Oh, keep looking for Eric, and the others."

"Right Boss." Cock-up looked lost for a second, wondering if he could help his friend.

"Go through the footage again, especially Dicko's as she got there first and may have some clues as to what was happening before it all kicked off." Ian explained. "We've just watched them all looking for how it all ended, not how it all started."

"True." Cock-up snapped his fingers as another thought came to him, having read the reports Ian had written about the Ansolonians and their advanced technological expertise. "And we know that Ansolon might have more data from their orbiting satellites, so I'll need to reach our contact there." He stopped as he saw the flaw in his plan.

"True," Ian agreed, and had also come to the same conclusion about the missing contacts, "We've lost our two main contacts, and don't have any others, as yet, but at the worst we could go back to the King, and ask him, as he was also a good man. Janosh said he trusted him like a brother, when he took me to see him through some underground tunnels from the police station to the Palace."

"Right, I'll get on with the footage first."

"Well done that man." Ian's face went deadly serious once more as he turned quickly and left the room.

Cock-up was concerned, as he'd never seen Ian work this way before. The two soldiers had connected instantly, despite the difference in rank. Both men had the same sense of humour and attitudes to life, and even with the limited time they'd worked together, they'd grown into being good friends, spending time together with each other's families. Yet Ian's actions had come as a surprise to Cock-up, and this was something that concerned him. Something wasn't right, and needed to be confirmed before Ian could say it out aloud. Cock-up knew that this problem must be something big for him to react in this way.

Transportation.

Skaler dragged Nerith down into the transport hangar. "Show him the correct sequence of symbols to press." He turned to the person stood next to Nerith. "Shoot him if he tries anything funny."

He then shepherded the escapees around him onto a circular raised platform in the centre of the room. Skaler looked up and saw that the ceiling above them had a white circular disc, which he calculated was about the same size as the raised floor panel they currently stood on. He then scrolled through the symbols until he came across the one for the hangar.

Skaler looked back at Nerith, and pointing at him he said, "Send us back to the woods, and if you make a mistake I will be instantly back here to kill you without a second thought, OK?"

"Yes, well I've spent a very pleasant afternoon being threatened for no reason by everyone else, so why should you be any different" Nerith replied whilst tapping in the sequence of buttons required transporting them back to the forest.

There was a flash of light, and then darkness. Skaler hadn't accounted for the change in conditions from the artificially lit hangar to the inky black forest and was shocked that his eyes couldn't see immediately. "Damn, he's dumped us somewhere else" and raised the Kylapitar close up to his face so that he could check the symbols before pressing the transportation button, to get them back up to the ship.

Before his finger had moved, Skaler heard a rusting noise around them. "Everybody down, now", he whispered.

His eyes had started to adjust to the light and he was getting annoyed that he had to repeatedly look up from the Kylapitar to see what was making the noise.

Skaler peered into the darkness to where the nearest noise was coming from. His eyes strained to see anything, and his heart was thumping hard inside his chest.

He sighed a huge relief as he made out the first Hawcon appear from the bushes ahead of him. He hadn't realised that he'd been holding his breath, and he now let it all out in one big blow.

"It's OK, you're all safe," he said to the group anxiously looking around at the moving bushes at the appearance of the Hawcon.

"Hi, who's Prock?" Skaler asked of the Hawcon.

"That would be me, why?" A middle aged, dark haired and quite tall Hawcon flew down and hovered 1 metre away from Skaler. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows "You have a message from Ashton, I presume?"

"Correct, he said to be ready for quite a few more, and to tend to any that need it." Skaler held his hands open to say that he'd passed the message. "Right, I'll get back up there and send the next batch down." With that, he moved a short distance away from the group and pressed the Kylapitar's buttons. In a flash he was gone.

Back on the ship he made sure that Drave, the person currently in charge of Nerith had learnt the correct symbols & sequence, and left him to organise the groups to be sent down. Skaler then climbed back up the access passage to Eric.

"Times moving too fast," he explained, "it's taken 15 minutes and we've only just got the first batch back on the planet." Skaler said to Eric.

"With everyone here helping, we're going to drop the whole lot in one go." Eric replied as he looked up at the strips still there, and then at the people they'd freed that were all waiting. He smiled as he saw Tom getting everyone organised. "We should have them all down and out of the bags in about 5 minutes." Eric replied.

It was quicker than he thought; with all the strips emptied in about 3 minutes, and they had them in the hangar below and beamed away after a further 10. Ashton had stayed back, along with Eric, Skaler, Aisha, Nerith and Tom, who had argued with Eric for only a second to stay with him.

They stood with satisfied smiles on their faces.

"We've probably saved five or six hundred people there." Eric said to the group. They all nodded their agreement.

"Yes, you should all be pleased with yourselves" Nerith said, who unbeknown to them had waited for this moment, when they would finally leave him alone. He'd sneaked away from them as the last batch had beamed down, and quickly pressed 2 buttons, one that raised the silent alarm, and one that opened the hangar doors behind them.

"You little..." Aisha spun round and pointed her gun straight at Nerith's head and fired.

Nerith had a moment's look of horror on his face as the blast hit him; killing him instantly.

"No more." Eric held his hand on the top of the gun and lowered it slowly, watching the guards pour in through the door. He turned to her, "Let's stay alive to fight another day, he's not worth it." Then he turned to Nerith, his eyes blazing, "You were warned."

They parted as the Rexon guards neared, circling the group, leaving a gap that was large enough for one other to walk through.

There were a few silent moments as the guards waited, weapons poised before a pair of boots clicked across the metal hangar floor.

A solitary figure strode through the gap, stopping a metre away from them "Eric, Tom, my dear boys, you're both quite safe." Eklan stood before them, smiling.

Two Choices

"So, now you know the truth" K'nash smiled at Janosh, "The irony of all of this is that this time we had to make contact, as we did need the ores for our ships."

"So that was true then?" Janosh asked.

"Oh yes, but it gave us time to experiment on you."

Janosh furrowed his brow. "Experiment, how?"

"About 7 levels below us, in a hangar there are currently five hundred and eighty human life-forms all hanging in plastic strips." He smiled at Janosh as he could see the anger rising like the sun behind his eyes. "We draw blood from them and test it with various substances, bacteria, organisms, etc, to see what happens." He waved his hands about as if to dismiss the simplicity of the act. "If we find something interesting, then we take a small sample of them and test it out in full."

"And....." Janosh had years of experience, and had been trained to withhold the anger within.

"Sometimes they work, so we deploy them on more people on one of the planets infested with humans."

"That's nice of you." Janosh resisted the increasing urge to just blow K'nash's head off.

"As I said earlier, though, there was an ironic twist to all this."

"Which was?"

"We've actually created cures for a lot of your illnesses." He smiled at Janosh. "We can now eradicate most things from the common cold through to cancer. But we won't, as we want to kill you." He waited a second to see if Janosh would still react. "We used those new cures as an incentive to get your help, and it worked quite well. Not that it will do you or your friends any good now."

"Friends?" Janosh had learnt over many years of intelligence and espionage to not let the enemy know your numbers.

K'nash leant forward and swiveled his computer screen around. "As you can see, we seem to have each other in a stalemate."

Janosh didn't change his expression, giving nothing away, as he saw his friends being locked in a cell. "I still think we have the advantage" he said and a smile slowly drifted across his face. "I can kill you and go and free them, or you can release them, then I'll kill you, your choice."

"I see you are a man to drive a hard bargain." K'nash also smiled back at him. "So, either way, I get killed."

Janosh rocked his head from side to side in mock thought. "Seems the only fair thing to do, seeing as you're wanting to rid the universe of the human race".

"True, quite true." K'nash sat back and rubbed his chin in deep thought. "But what if I had an alternative option?"

"As long it means that you end up dead, I'm quite willing to hear it"

"Firstly, let me ask you a question" he let his breath out slowly, "before you kill me of course."

"Fire away, oops sorry, that's for me to do shortly." Janosh flashed a smile at him.

"Your humour is very droll, something that I have never quite enjoyed." He shook his head to break away from that train of thought and focus on the task at hand. "How large is your resistance, and who is your leader, as I don't believe you are that person."

"You're correct, I'm not, but that information is classified. As for the numbers, that is something no-one within the resistance can tell you. We are organised so that no-one has the overall knowledge, thus no one person can betray us." He felt and looked smug.

"Unusual methodology, but I'm impressed, it is very effective." K'nash admired this human's abilities to lead, be a politician, and a soldier. "And I presume knowing, and thus killing your leader would only make him or her into a martyr."

"True, and that is something you wouldn't want. So, can I kill you now, or are you going to tell me this third option."

"Yes, my third option is to just say Snarg."

Janosh opened his mouth to start speaking, as he hadn't understood the last word. It only took a moment to register that he didn't need to say anything, as he could hear the door behind him opening. He also knew that there were probably half a dozen guards stood there with guns, all trained on the back of the chair he sat in. "I could still kill you anyway, and have a small amount of satisfaction." Janosh said, resignedly.

"Yes you could, but now you have 2 options." K'nash smiled back at him.

"Oh, Let me try and see what they are", Janosh held a finger up to his mouth and sniggered for a second as the irony of this reversed situation greeted him. "One, I tell you who my leader is, and who my team are, as you probably think I know them, and then you kill me."

K'nash held up one finger and nodded, "Correct."

"And two, I don't tell you who my leader and my team are, and you kill me."

K'nash held up a second finger.

Jigsaw Puzzles.

Ian was sat quietly in his office, yet his mind was racing. An oak coloured L-shaped desk was placed in the corner of the room, a set of filing drawers were tucked under one end, faced in a matching veneer. A carriage clock ticked rhythmically behind him, a sarcastic gift from his colleagues for reaching 20 years in the military. Ian kept it, a reminder of having built up good friendships and also that time was ticking away. He'd left Cock-up in the presentation room, having seen a couple of tiny actions that worried him. It was only a hunch, only one of his gut instincts, but as he knew, his hunches were usually right.

He sighed as he hoped he was wrong, as this one made his heart sink through the floor.

When he'd got back to his office and opened up the document register for the MI9 files that were held on a secure network of servers sat within the Quarry base near Nether Kellet in rural Lancashire. He'd run a quick query against the files and found a few minor discrepancies. System glitches were rare, but still occurred, and servers crashing, or the logic breaking on a routine was not unheard of. In the end the programming was created by humans, and humans were flawed. This would be typical with any large company network holding millions of documents, spreadheets, and presentations. The servers at the Nether Kellett base were worked even harder, especially by Sergeant Cock-up Cockburn, as he merged vast amounts of data and processing power together, so glitches should be the norm. Yet there were too many, and individually they would be lost within the tidal wave of files and folders, but Ian had pieced them together, and found a link.

These links made his stomach lurch from side to side, a sea-sickness feeling deep in the pit of his soul as he wanted to discredit his own thoughts. He then checked the dates and times of these glitches against personnel records, checking the discrepancies against who was on site. This narrowed it down to a small group of people. He then looked at the data in the files and noticed it was a mixture of reports from other worlds by various MI9 teams, tactics, equipment levels, weapon efficiency and accuracy statistics. All of it was relatively innocent on their own, but together, they would give a robust picture of how the MI9 agents would work, and how to get round their weaponry and tactics.

"Damn!" Ian's hand wiped down from the top of his forehead, across his face and rested on his neck. He'd wanted to erase all this information from his mind, but couldn't.

"OK, how?" He asked himself.

He opened up the data logs for the radio transmissions going out of the base. He scanned the data, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Everything had been logged, from messages to HQ in Abingdon, to the ones direct to Whitehall.

Ian tapped a number on his phone.

Cock-up picked it up on the first ring. "Sir?" Noticing the caller ID.

"Do we monitor mobiles around the base?"

"Erm, not officially." Cock-up answered, hesitantly.

Ian let a smile creep across his lips. He knew what that meant. "So is this just something you do for you, or for the Colonel?" As Ian knew that he'd not asked for it and he was second-in-command on the base.

"Just for me, really."

"Excellent." Ian knew that was good news as no-one else would have access to that data, or know that such information was being monitored.

"Basically, I started to get the information as I had a thought of how the beamee might interfere with communications, and I knew that the receivers in and around the quarry could easily log it all." He gave his explanation for breaking into personal calls, text transmissions and downloads. "Actually, it was an off-chance remark from Corporal Taylor."

Ian had to swallow the pain back as he heard the young soldiers name once more.

"He'd seen me testing the beam-me and wondered if it would a problem when out on a mission, so I thought I'd do some testing to see. I must thank him for that idea." Cock-up suddenly remembered what had happened. "Sorry Ian."

"You have thanked him, and he might have done us all a huge favour with that one-off question." Ian remarked. "Anyway, you were saying." Ian urged his friend on with his story, wanting to move away from the sadness he felt.

"Yes, and now I think about it I never shut it down, so it's just been collecting this data for the past 18 months." He suddenly realised that this had been one of those things he'd started and didn't finish as he tested another theory out. Cock-up had a wealth of these half-tried theories from data retrieval, query management, half-finished projects around the house. His wife had started to expect this behaviour after 12 years of marriage, but it was still an annoyance to her.

"Can you send me your data?" Ian asked.

"Yep, the location to the file is on its way." Cock-up had anticipated the question and had been already attaching the URL to an email as they spoke.

"Cheers." Ian said as his computer pinged the arrival.

"Ian, do you need anything else?"

The Major knew that his Sergeant wasn't merely asking to see if he needed any further assistance with his investigation; it was on a personal, more friendship level. He could trust Cock-up, but didn't want to bring him in on it yet, not until he'd narrowed it down, and not until he could know for sure. "No, thank you." Ian sighed as he thought about keeping secrets from the people he could trust with his life. "Let's say that I'm building a jigsaw puzzle, and at the moment I've got the corners and this data, along with everything else will get me the sides finished off. I'm a long way from the middle bit, but also I'm trying to get as much done without needing help."

"Understood Sir." Cock-up replied, knowing that as much as he wanted to help, this was a personal quest for the Major.

"And I need you to get on with finding that young man and his friends." Ian repeated his previous command.

"We can't." Cock-up replied quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"The footage gave us nothing, and having read your reports through again, unless they were beamed to an orbiting ship, then we'd not find them."

Ian's heart sank. "There has to be something?"

"Nothing at all, without going to Ansolon and getting access to their technology, and that could take weeks, trying to understand it all, and hooking it up to what we need to see, and then..." His voice trailed off as a blanket of despair drowned his voice.

"OK, we'll go back. I'll get the go command from the Colonel and see what we can find quickly, but I may..." He stopped himself before he said too much as a thought came to him. "Right, I've gotta go, thanks for the data, but I'll get the clearance and we'll see what we can find." He added quickly before disconnecting the call.

Cock-up sat holding the phone for a second, looking to see if he could understand what had just happened.

Ian sat quietly for a few more moments. He'd not told Cock-up the whole truth, as he had got most of the puzzle to know what the picture was, and all he was doing was finishing off the last few pieces to confirm his biggest fears. The only sliver of hope was that once complete, he could use the information as another means of finding Eric.
Skills.

"Aisha, are you ok?" Eric placed his hands gently on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

She snorted a little laugh. "Actually Eric, I haven't felt this good for ages, I wish I'd killed him sooner."

He kept his grip on her for a second, and looked deep into her eyes. He made sure in his own mind that she was being truthful to herself more than anyone else.

"I'm OK." She said to help ease his worries. She then surprised them both by suddenly planting a kiss on his cheek.

"So mate," Tom started, "what do we do now?" He looked at the pair of bright red faces looking back at him. Aisha giggled.

"You kissed him, didn't you?" He shook his head despondently at Aisha as he walked over and put his arm round Eric. "They always do that to you, don't they mate."

Eric blushed some more.

Tom then turned to Aisha, "I think he fancies you. One, he hasn't spoken yet, and is still bright red, and two, he hasn't thrown up. This means that you're quite pretty."

"OK, that's enough." Eric wriggled out of Tom's grasp and thumped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Sorry, and there's the third reason, as he's just proven that he'll defend your dignity." And he immediately swayed backwards away from Eric's fist.

"Now, now children." Aisha sternly said. "Right" she turned to Tom, "You stop winding him up, and you," turning to Eric "stop messing about, even though I do find it quite sweet." She pulled Eric away from Tom, who was giggling and making kissing noises at Eric as he backed away from one last lunge.

"Eric, we need to find a way out of here." Ashton interrupted. "Not play games."

"Ah, well, that's where this comes in handy." Skaler dug his hand into his pocket and removed something, which he held out on the palm of his hand.

"When did you get that?" Eric asked.

"Remember when I first bumped into Nerith back in the forest, before we all beamed off the planet..." and he left the sentence hanging.

"You are a good thief." Aisha praised him.

"You can actually thank Ashton for the idea." Skaler said, turning and clapping at the Hawcon leader's ingenuity.

"I thank you, Lady & Gentlemen", and he bowed graciously.

"Eric," Tom said, "What is that, apart from looking like a pen?"

"You'll see in a second" he replied, then raising his voice slightly to be heard over the Skaler's continued clapping, "Sorry to break up the usual sequence of this awards ceremony, but before we go to the best foreign film category, can we go straight to the 'Best use of an Alien Lock Pick to get the Heroes out of Jail on an Alien spaceship in a foreign galaxy Category'." And he looked sternly at Skaler.

Everyone stopped and looked at Eric for a second, until it dawned on them what he'd just said. They then all turned to Skaler.

"Oh, yeah." Skaler suddenly leapt into life as he realised it was up to him, "Good Idea Eric."

P.I.P.

"So, K'nash, is it worth telling you who I know of?" Janosh placed the gun on the desk ahead of him. "As you have already said that you will kill us all in the end anyway."

"Once again, you are quite right Janosh." And he held up his hand to stop the guards entering the room. "I think that we need to keep the guards out, so that you can have this moment of clarity," he paused to think of the right words, "to help cleanse your soul."

"At least I have a soul." Janosh said.

"You are a very insightful man," K'nash nodded at Janosh, "as it is true that we don't have a spiritual side."

"That's a pity, as it may have been a redeeming part of your character."

Janosh glanced at the screen on K'nash's desk that was still turned towards him, and away from K'nash. It had one main view of the bridge and 3 other smaller picture in picture shots around the corners of other parts oft eh ship. The top right had a view of the engine room, as he recognised the shape of a fusion engine sat there. The bottom left screen kept changing and it was this one that had caught his attention. It seemed to be scrolling through various sections of the ship, views of corridors that all looked the same to him, but they were probably instantly recognizable once you'd become familiar with the ships layout.

It was this one kept flashing a very interesting view. Every 8 screens he could see the corridor directly outside K'nash's office. The guards were all there, in the centre of the corridor, all pointing their guns in on them. What made it more interesting was that Janosh knew that they must be 15 metres away from him. Added to that, the chair he sat was of a large wing back design, which would help obstruct their sight of K'nash's computer screen.

This was only interesting to Janosh as the view in the bottom right corner, the one of the holding cell, had just seen his friends and allies escape. Inwardly, he smiled, as giving the game up now would make it impossible for them to fully get away.

"I believe the expression you humans commonly use is 'can you please hurry up, as I haven't got all day'", K'nash leant forward to help bring back Janosh's focus. "I think that's right, isn't it?"

Janosh looked at his watch and smiled. He slowly brought his eyes back up and looked back at K'nash, "I think you're right, we haven't got any time left at all."

Escape.

Skaler used the lock pick perfectly, first time. The door swung open slightly, and they all froze, expecting a guard to suddenly appear and stop them before they'd even set foot out of the cell. Eric edged forward, hesitantly opening the door more, peering round the edge. It was clear.

He looked at the group behind him, "ready?" they all nodded and then set off along the corridor.

At the first corner they stopped, Ashton flew down to the ground to check for anyone who might be round it. "Clear" was his only remark, and it was all they needed. He then took the lead, closely followed by Eric, Aisha, Tom, and finally Skaler, bringing up the rear.

"Third Right Ashton", Eric called out, as he'd had counted and memorised the route from the hangar all the way up to the cell.

They quickly made it about halfway to the hangar, when Tom called out "Eric, stop." They all slid to a halt on the smooth metal floor ahead of him.

Eric turned back and instantly knew what the problem was. "Where's Skaler?"

"I don't know," Tom answered shrugging his shoulders, "I just turned round and he was gone"

"Gone?" Aisha asked, "Gone where?"

Eric looked at his watch. "We should have been in the hangar 3 minutes ago. Janosh would have been waiting for us, and he doesn't know how to work the transporter." He looked at the group, "And I'm not losing anyone, so let's find him quickly, and then get the hell out of here." They all agreed.

"Where do we start?" Aisha asked.

"Let's back track," Eric answered, "but keep a sharp eye out. Ashton, if you could lead us again."

They went back along the corridor, heading towards the cell. They stopped at the next corner, hiding in the recess of the structure whilst Ashton checked to see if it was clear.

"Aarrgghhh !" Aisha shouted as the door she was leaning against opened, making her fall into the room.

Eric instantly swung round to attack whoever was there, but instantly froze. "Skaler, what the hell were you doing in there? We should have been in the hangar by now," and looked at his watch again, "we're nearly five minutes late now."

"I remembered Eklan going in there, and wondered if she'd left this", he held out the Kylapitar in his hand.

"Brilliant" Eric realised he and Tom could now get home.

At that moment they heard an explosion far below. The whole ship shook and the walls trembled. "Skaler, use it, get us out of here NOW!" Eric shouted the last word, as he instantly knew that Janosh had placed a bomb on board.

Skaler maniacally pressed the button, cursing as he watched symbols slowly scroll by. "I can't find the right one."

A bigger explosion ripped through the ship. The floor heaved up with the force of the bombs being detonated below, knocking them off their feet. Aisha looked in horror as the far end of the corridor ripped open, and a fireball leapt up out of the hole, and attacked the ceiling above. In the confusion, Skaler dropped the Kylapitar, and it slid across the floor away from his diving grasp.

Another explosion came, as the bombs in the arsenal exploded in a domino effect, causing further explosions to rip through the ship as other devices and systems blew up.

Aisha stretched out and grabbed the Kylapitar, "Which one?" She pleaded.

"Press the left hand button; I don't care where we end up, as long as it's not here."

Tom stamped his thumb on the button.

More bombs exploded, tearing the ship into two monstrous lumps of slowly spinning and burning hunks of metal.
Dead End

"Each one has a unique frequency." Sergeant Cock-up Cockburn burst through the door into Major Ian Jackson's office. He stopped as he saw that the Major had his head in his hands. "Are you OK Ian?"

The Major rolled his head up, wiping his hands down his face, trying to wipe the conclusion of his investigation out of his mind. "Yes, I'm fine."

Cock-up wasn't appeased and sat in the chair opposite his Commanding Officer and close friend. "What's happened?"

Ian shook his head and sighed, raising a very weak smile. It had been difficult to keeping the information he'd gathered from a very trusted friend, but knew he'd had to, until now. "NASA have been helping me conduct some more experiments."

Cock-up sat quietly, wondering where this was going.

"I used the logs of the mobiles you'd created, and noticed a very slight anomaly to one of those transmissions."

"Anomoly?"

"Yes, strangely enough it was a weak signal that made me look twice."

Cock-up tilted his head as he listened.

"Your data was superb." Ian continued. "It had logged not only times and dates, durations and destinations of all calls, but you'd also logged all the other transmission data, even the microwaves in the canteen down here."

"Yes, as I was seeing if anything interfered with the Beamee."

Ian smiled, an ironic snort of laughter escaped, knowing that the thoroughness of his Sergeant had brought him to a very sinister conclusion. "Your striving to gather all the evidence, to accumulate as much data as possible, while you could, helped me track down this weak phone signal."

"You're not thinking it was someone up on the fells whose mobile was being picked up are you?"

"At first, yes." Ian scanned the data once more, hoping he could find the evidence to discredit his findings. "I thought that spurious waves would be bouncing around everywhere and maybe it was a ghost, or external signal, but..." His eyes fell back onto the reams of data before him.

"It came from within the base, didn't it?"

"Yes, and I went through all the permutations, even some daft ones, like the batteries dying, or being on the loo, or the holographic suites interfering."

Cock-up smiled as he would have assumed the same.

"Yet it was there." Ian tapped the page. "A very faint mobile signal."

"So who sent it?" Cock-up leant forward in his chair as his senses heightened, knowing what was coming.

"I don't know."

"Oh!" Cock-up sat back. "I thought you'd be able to find where it came from within the base."

"It didn't come from within the base." Ian replied. "It didn't even come from this planet."

"Oh!" Cock-up's voice rose.

"So I had a word with my man in space and gave him the frequencies."

"And?"

"The transmissions came from two areas, one from very close to Ansolon, and one from another galaxy altogether." Ian explained.

"You said near Ansolon?"

"Yes." Ian sighed. "And up until a minute ago, the transmission was coming in, and then it cut off."

"They've stopped the conversation?"

"Nope, we'd managed to hack into the line and listened in." He tapped on the screen of his computer tablet.

"We have him and the others on the ship, in captivity. You've done the Empire a great service." A crackly voice was heard through the speakers. It was a very poor quality, and you couldn't tell if they were male or female, or even what race they were. "It was a pity we couldn't have completed the initial mission at that time, but you know what you have to do for your primary and secondary...."

The sound cut off.

"Did it stop? Maybe it's a fault in the transmitter at their end?" Cock-up asked, wondering why the conversation had ended abruptly.

"No, I think it's gone, completely."

"What do you mean, gone?" Cock-up asked. "It can't just disappear."

"Listen again to the last bit, but let me alter the bass and midrange, and lower the high end." Ian slid his finger across the screen a few times, to help adjust the acoustic levels. The last few words started to play, but this time they sounded very muffled, as if in another room.

Cock-up leant forward so he could hear it a little clearer.

Just as the voice said the last three words, the bass boomed three times.

"Bombs?"

Ian nodded in agreement to Cock-up's assessment of the background noises. "I believe that transmission came from a ship orbiting Ansolon, a Rexon ship, and that was where Eric and the others had beamed to." Ian rolled his theory out, like a map to a final destination that he didn't want to really reach. "Whoever that was, they were talking to someone within this camp, but didn't finish their conversation as the ship was blown up."

"But, but..." Questions pinged around Cock-up's mind. "But who's been blown up, and by whom?"

"The Ansolons may have attacked, but I think it was something from the inside. If you think about it, Janosh was beamed up with them, and they had numbers on their side. He may have eluded being captured and set off some sort of self destruct."

"Those are huge assumptions." Cock-up whistled.

"I know, and I need you to find out what you can about what happened out there. Yet there is one little thing that is not a huge assumption." Ian replied.

"We've got a spy."

Close Call.

At the same instant, the flash of light engulfed Eric and the others and they were beamed away.

The light dissipated, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief, knowing they were off the ship. Slumping down on the ground they let their eyes adjust to their new surroundings. It was twilight, but they could clearly tell that the sky was green. There were two suns setting in the distance, the largest and closest was already halfway over the horizon. The second sun was only just coming above the horizon, about 10 degrees to its right.

"Wow!" Said Skaler, looking around, "Weird, but Wow!"

Aisha, who had been on the floor when they were beamed away, now stood up and dusted herself off. "You were right, anywhere but that ship, Eric." She looked over to Eric, who seemed otherwise engrossed with something else. "Eric, are you OK?" she called.

Eric had slowly walked away from the group, but suddenly stopped and then, even more carefully, he slowly walked backwards. As he returned to the team, he turned his head slightly, "Everyone, back together." He whispered.

"Why mate?" Tom asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse", replied Eric quietly.

"What could be worse than that," Tom said, "And I, more than anyone, should know."

"Tom, this isn't the time to joke." Eric was stood next to Tom and he gently took hold of his chin, and turned it to where he'd been peering into the darkness. "We've got company."

Tom pushed his head forward and felt his eyes straining as he looked in the direction Eric had pointed him. "Piggin' hell!"

Ashton flew over to them and saw the same. "I suggest we leave as soon as possible."

"My thoughts exactly, Ashton", Eric said. "Now, let's quietly get everyone together." Then he turned to Aisha. "Have you still got the Kylapitar?"

"Erm, yes"

"Give it to Skaler, and let him get us out of here."

Skaler heard the last part and took the Kylapitar out of Tom's hand, "Thanks", and shrugged his shoulders as he turned to Eric, "What's up?"

Eric checked they were now all together. "We've beamed onto a planet, right next to what looks like a Rexon army camp." Aisha and Skaler gasped. Tom and Ashton just nodded. "We need to beam out of here fast, as the flash of light we made as we beamed in is drawing........"

They were suddenly engulfed in light. Only this time it was from a searchlight which sat on the guard post at the nearest corner to them. An alien voice was heard, and shouts rang out across the cool evening air. Then more voices started coming at them from within the camp. They all turned as one as the sound of a jet engine started, and they watched in horror as a small open top ship lifted vertically off the ground.

"Skaler?" Eric asked. "Have you found your planet yet on the Kylapitar?"

"Give me a flaming chance, I'm under a little pressure here." He was frantically pressing the button again, scrolling past hundreds of symbols. "And to be honest, I don't really know the right one, apart from the one on the ship, and I don't think we want to go there again."

"In that case, I would suggest once again", Eric calmly said to Skaler, "If you haven't found it yet, then press the button, now, and beam us out of here."

Skaler looked up and saw the small ship hovering 5 metres above the ground. It then turned and glided over the fence towards them, the gun on its front pointing straight at them.

"Oh shoot!" Tom exclaimed.

They were engulfed in light again, as Skaler beamed them away once more.

Eden.

This time they were ready. As the light dissipated they all crouched down, looking around to check that they were safe.

"Wow!" Whispered Skaler.

"Don't start that again." Whispered Tom back at him.

"Start what?"

"Last time we beamed out, you said Wow, and that landed us right next to a Rexon army camp. So this time you started with Wow again." Tom's voice was getting harsh with whispering so loudly, "If there's any Rexon here again, then we beam somewhere else and you say nothing, OK?"

"Boys," Aisha said, "Shut up."

They both looked at her, then at each other and started to snigger. It was one of those times when they knew they shouldn't, but they couldn't help it. The more they tried to stop themselves, the more they'd look at each other and they'd start laughing again. They slowed it down, and then looked at each other. Tears started to roll down their faces as they couldn't stop. "Oh no, I can't breathe" Tom said between gasps of air.

This only set Skaler off again.

"Pack it in, now." Eric's voice was very stern, and more than enough to reduce them to sniggers again. "Skaler, I want the truth. Do you know the right address on the Kylapitar?"

He eased down the laughing as the truth dawned on him. "I think so, but I'm not sure."

"How not sure?" Aisha asked.

"Not sure enough to want to try it, really."

"But that means we're stuck here now, and we have no way of getting back." Aisha said angrily.

Eric calmly placed his hand on her arm, and looking round at the small troop he said, "OK, let's all calm down, and work this through." He waited for them all to give him their full attention. "Ashton, can you go and have a quick scout round", he asked of the Hawcon leader, "Make sure were safe."

He then looked around at the landscape. They were in the midst of a mountainous region, huddled on a clearing next to a very large and still lake. "We'll move over to the tree line and wait there." He pointed to the edge of the trees nearest to them. Ashton nodded and then flew away along the edge of the lake, keeping low to help him stay relatively hidden from any prying eyes.

Keeping low they dashed the 20 metres to the trees. It was quite dark under the canopy, but their eyes soon adjusted.

"You two go and get some firewood." He sent Tom and Skaler off, who still sniggered occasionally. Then he went back to the edge of the trees to have a look around.

"Skaler was right." Aisha said as she leant against a tree.

"What about?"

"Wow!" and she swept her arm across the vista. "We've nothing like this on Ansolon."

"I've been somewhere similar on Earth. It's called the Alps, in a country called France. It's breathtakingly beautiful like this."

The sun was setting behind them which created a wonderous sight, as the shadow of the Mountain drifted up the opposite face, chasing the sun's light away. Twilight drifted over them, as the darkness won its battle.

A moon started to rise to their left, bright and clear, bringing with it some welcome light.

"Wow!" Skaler said as he dropped the wood he and Tom had collected.

"I know what you mean."

He was looking the opposite way to Eric, "No, look, another moon, heading towards the first."

They all looked up, and whereas the sun was rising and falling from west to east, the moons came from the north and south, and looked like they would cross by each other, creating a lunar eclipse every night.

"All clear, not a soul around." Ashton said as he arrived back.

"Right, anyone got anything to start a fire with?" Eric asked.

"What, like this?" Skaler produced what looked like a small cooks blowtorch from his pocket.

"I presume that's quite handy for melting locks or chains, etc?" Eric asked.

"Actually I'd use it to caramalise the top of my crème brulee" Tom interjected. They all looked at him curiously as he continued. "I'm not a bad cook, given the chance."

"I'm just happy right now to be able to light a fire," Skaler added, and crouched down to pile the wood on top of some dry leaves, before igniting them with his torch.

Within a few minutes, flames were leaping and licking around the logs, and they all huddled around the fire, keeping warm.

"So, we're stuck here then." Skaler said, dejectedly.

"No, look, there must be hundreds of addresses on the Kylapitar, we can virtually go anywere." Eric replied encouragingly.

"But we don't know where they go to." Aisha added.

"True, but we can safely say that if they are on there, then the Rexon have been there."

"And we might end up in another Rexon Camp, or worse, back on a ship that's been blown up." Ashton interjected a little sanity to curb Eric's enthusiasm.

Skaler pulled the Kylapitar out of his pocket and started to scroll through the symbols. He started to recognise the ones as it neared the address for the ship and he smiled inwardly knowing what Ashton had meant. Skaler slowed the scrolling down until he stopped at the one just before the ship. He then tapped the up button one more time. "Whoa! Where's it gone?"

"Where's what gone?" Eric asked.

"The ship."

"It was blown up, we were there, we escaped, don't you remember."

"Yes, I know that." And he looked at Eric with a furrowed brow. "I'm on about the symbols for the address of the ship that were on the Kylapitar. They've just gone."

"Yes, but there must be hundreds of sequences on there, you might not have the right sequence."

"I knew the ones leading up to the ship." He was getting angry at Eric for not believing him. "I'd watched Nerith twice in the woods and I did it on the ship before beaming down with the first bunch of escapees." He looked up from his scrolling back and forth of symbols. "It's just not there anymore."

"I think we can safely assume then." Eric started to put words to his thoughts. "That if a location is physically not there, then the Kylapitar knows" He looked around the group for agreement. "It must update itself, somehow."

"A very ingenious device." Ashton said.

"So we can go to any address on there, we just have to be careful when we get there." Aisha added cautiously.

"We could go to Earth, I know those symbols." Tom nodded as he said it.

"But what about the others," Eric looked at Aisha, Skaler and Ashton. "and the Rexon are everywhere, even Earth."

"So why not go there first and finish them off, the same way as we've just done" added Skaler.

"True, but at the moment, all they are doing is stealing dead bodies, as bad as that is," Eric turned to Tom, "no offence mate."

"None taken, its nice being a Zombie." He smiled again.

Eric just shook his head, no matter how bad the situation was, Tom would lift their spirits with a joke, even one so badly felt, and so badly timed.

"I haven't actually had time to say this, but thank you" Aisha said to them all.

"What for?" Eric asked.

"Saving my planet." And she smiled at them.

"I'd like to add my gratitude." Ashton added, and bowed. "But I knew beforehand it would happen this way."

"How could you know that?" Eric asked.

"Because of the prophecy."

"You've said that before, when we first met."

"For 1 thousand years, a prophecy has been handed down between the Hawcon." He looked around the group. "It's used as a story to give children hope in the darkest of times. And as a source of hope for us older, more cynical ones."

They leant in towards the fire as it crackled and hissed,

"It's told as a poem." Ashton continued.

He faced death, passed from his world,

The boy stranger with the aim of gods,

Within strong walls, alliances formed,

Prince and Pauper against the odds.

Walked along the paths of many a King

Allies revealed, enough to meet his fill,

Whilst captive a close friend does sing,

And he fires to make his first kill.

The battle moves to enemy land,

Friends found and freedom for more,

Enemy within gains the upper hand,

Skills of one used to come to the fore.

The First Battle is clearly won,

But not without some Cost,

Enemy felled, their work is done,

Yet sorrow at a comrade lost.

Far away, moons collide overhead,

A band of Heroes lie in wait,

A pact is formed, a war to head,

Their destiny, free all from fate."

"Oh my, that's you Eric." Aisha said, her eyes wide in awe of the accuracy of the poem.

"No, it's just a fairy story, it could be bent to be told about anyone." Eric replied, shuffling uneasily. "Like a horoscope."

"We're all heroes mate, don't deny our fate." Tom slapped Eric on the back with a lot of pride.

"But I don't want to be the leader of a group of heroes."

"You already are, my friend." Ashton said, nodding. "You already are." He knew that there were more verses to tell them, but had decided to leave it at that for the time being. He didn't want to chase this strong, yet so young and fragile man away from what he saw as his destiny.

They all sat and pondered the words that they'd just heard. After a few minutes silence, Aisha broke everyone's thoughts. "So, we have to complete the prophecy."

"What does that mean?" Skaler asked.

"Ashton, can you repeat the last verse, line by line?" Aisha asked.

"Certainly, my dearest princess." He puffed his chest up as if he was about to perform an opera to a full house at the Royal Albert Hall in London. "Far from home, moons collide overhead."

"We're far from home, and we've seen that the moons will pass in front of each other, looking like they're colliding." Aisha explained. "Next line please, Ashton."

"A band of Heroes lie in wait."

"Self explanatory."

Tom turned to Skaler, "He said we're heroes again." And then they grinned at each other.

"A pact formed, a war to head."

"We are all in this together, and we know we have to get rid of the Rexon." Aisha added her interpretation. "Skaler has already said that we should go to Earth and fight them there. He's already bringing together a pact. The war is against the Rexon." She waited a second whilst the information sunk in to everyone. "Ashton, the last line please."

"Their destiny, to free all from fate."

"We can't get away from it. We've freed my home world. Yours is still under threat." She pointed at Eric and Tom across the fire. "When we beamed off the ship we landed on another strange world next to a Rexon army camp. I would hasten to guess that they are all over the universe, and it's down to us. We have to do our bit to help bring them down." She looked at Eric. "It's not just your destiny. As the prophecy states, it's all of our destinies."

Eric sat there with the weight of a universe starting to bear down on his shoulders. He didn't want this burden. He'd never asked for it. All he wanted was a quiet life. He wanted to go back a month and just play pool with Tom in the garage. He dropped his head and let the memories of his family and friends drift by.

"It's true." He finally said. Everyone had been waiting for him to speak. "As much as I'd wish it hadn't happened, it has. As much as I'd want to just go home to earth with Tom and play pool in the garage, we can't. Things are happening around the universe that needs to be stopped. If we do nothing, then we will all be eventually exterminated. The human race will exist no more. It's up to us, and for now, us alone, to come together as one and fight back." He looked around his small army, and could suddenly see everything fitting into place.

Eric looked at Aisha, "We've beaten them once already, and have born leaders in our troop." Then at Skaler, "We have the Kylapitar which means that we can get at them. We also have some very special skills." He then looked at Ashton, "We can find allies, and pockets of resistance." Finally, he looked at Tom, "We can spread the word of what they are really doing."

They all beamed with the warmth of enthusiasm and courage. The fire leapt higher, as if their energy boosted its own. Eric smiled, even though he knew what lay ahead was a very difficult and long journey. "Together we can defeat them. We've won the first battle, now we have to win the war."

I do hope you enjoyed this novel, the second book in the Eric Peterson series. I hope to have the third book, - Worlds Apart - ready soon for your delight.

Thank you, once again,

Phil Cocker.

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