Part 0:

Synopsis: Caught between the Tomorrow People who have raised them and their Sap creators, the Malthus children must now decide what they stand for.

The Kindred Spirits universe is dedicated to the late Philip Gilbert.

This is the eleventh story in the Kindred Spirits sequence. Recommended reading order is:
1) Kindred Spirits - Two Aims, One Destination
2) Kindred Spirits - Double Bluff
3) Kindred Spirits - Slipping the Net
4) Kindred Spirits - Consumed by Fire
5) Kindred Spirits - The Stair
6) Kindred Spirits - Stara Majka
7) Kindred Spirits - ZD28-FV6
8) Kindred Spirits - Darkness and Lust
9) Kindred Spirits - Abandoned
10) Kindred Spirits - The Path Ahead
11) Kindred Spirits - Serpent's Tooth

Previous Kindred Spirits stories can be found in the TPFICT archive or on our own pages at: http://www.oocities.org/tiylaya/KS/ or http://www.effdee.demon.co.uk/tp/Stories/stories.htm

This story is based on the television series 'The Tomorrow People' created by Roger Price and owned by Thames Television/Freemantle Media. It also features original characters and situations created by, and the intellectual property of, Jackie Clark and Elizabeth Stanway, October 2003. The titles of news media organisations are also used without permission and we do not claim to represent the editorial policies of those bodies.

Many thanks to Jackie for helping to develop this story from shaky beginnings, and for letting me share her visions of the future. I am also extremely grateful to Anyta for all her help with editing and proof-reading this story and the entire sequence.

Any feedback, comments or criticisms would be extremely welcome, either to me at tiylaya@yahoo.com or to Jackie at Jackie@the-tomorrow-people.co.uk

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Prologue:

'How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, to have a thankless child.'
- King Lear by William Shakespeare

Luna's control room was a busy and bustling place. Tomorrow People hurried about on their multitude of complex tasks: engineers, administrators and security agents each reporting to their superiors, picking up new rotas and schedules, and studying computer monitors. Usually, when Abby brought Thomas here, the place would be quiet and she would already have cleared time for him in her schedule, but this afternoon's visit had not been planned.

He had never expected it to be so hard for his brothers and sisters to accept his return. No, perhaps he was being uncharitable. They had welcomed him back. It was the implications of his return, the reminder of what they were, that troubled them. Thomas wasn't sure whether he preferred the fear of her own potential in Catherine's eyes when she looked at him, or the curiosity in James's, or the thoughtfulness in Alex's. The others didn't even seem that sure of how to treat him, confusion in their minds whenever he joined their deeply engrained mental link. He saw himself through their eyes from time to time, his stronger telepathy a rock against which their psi-awareness washed, disrupting the stability of their last four years on Luna.

Well, whatever the cause, the month he had spent on Luna's top level had been marred by explosions of temper from both the Malthus children and the young Reganovitch kids who were isolated with them. Thomas shook his head as he thought. The virus was a curse their creators had wished upon his siblings. If they were free to enjoy even the limited freedom of Luna's lower levels, perhaps the shock of his return wouldn't have been so profound.

Today the mood in the top level had been pensive. After a morning of short tempers and near-hysterical overreactions to minor incidents, both Emina and Kershia had had enough. Eager to remove at least one of the unsettling influences, Kershia had given her friend a call, and Abigail had quickly suggested that Thomas join her down here.

And so Thomas sat in a corner of the control room, trying to fade inconspicuously into the background. He enjoyed his occasional lessons with Abby, as she continued the telepathic training interrupted by his long stay in the Canadian Camp. Sometimes he could even forget the great debt he owed her ... until the memories flooded into her eyes, and she remembered what he'd taken from her. Of course, Abby was busy these days; Luna could hardly run itself, and Abby still showed no sign of relinquishing final responsibility for the Tomorrow People of Canada. She was constantly being called away from their lesson to deal with one urgent matter or another.

Thomas felt exposed, aware each passing moment of suspicious looks from the Tomorrow People Abby worked with. He tried to block out their thoughts, but they didn't like his presence here. They would never see him as anything but a threat. Sighing, he turned back to the puzzle Abby had set him. He probed its intricacies telekinetically, trying to find the key that would allow him to solve it.

(So let me get this clear.) Abby's telepathic voice distracted him from the task, hushed as it was. The words escaped Abby's mental defences, ringing in his mind as her concentration slipped. The painful after-effects of his time in the Camp had been slow to fade. His long-term exposure to Barlumin had left his telepathy raw and sensitive. Luna functioned on the understanding that every Tomorrow Person within it must shield themselves. Without that simple measure, life in this overcrowded warren would rapidly have become impossible. Stray thoughts all too often escaped the shields of tired telepaths, creating a mental cacophony in the minds of unshielded listeners. Insofar as he was able, Thomas tried to block the thoughts of others, but now there was a dismayed tension in Abby's mind that captured his attention immediately. (Are we saying these 'Malloney Allegations' could be about another Malthus project?)

Abigail heard the clatter as Thomas stood up quickly, the puzzle falling from his hands to the floor. She turned to him with a gasp, both she and Sophie reinforcing their telepathic shielding as they looked at him with anxious expressions.

The boy was pale, his expression tight with memories and fears. With quick strides, Abby crossed the room, taking hold of his shoulders as if about to shake him. She spoke aloud, not risking the telepathic contact. "Thomas, what did you hear?" she asked gently.

"Another Malthus?" Thomas whispered the words, his expression begging her to deny them. Abby shook her head, but in frustration rather than refutation.

"Thomas ..." she began before faltering, not sure how to go on. How could she explain their vague suspicions without hurting both her young ward and his siblings more?

Lost in her dilemma, she was not aware at first of the musical sound emanating from the room's jaunting pad. It was the reaction of the others that alerted her. All around people stopped what they were doing, staring at the pad in surprise.

Abby looked up sharply, Thomas all but forgotten in the more immediate situation. "TIM?" she asked, glancing up at the biotronic computer. "Is that what I think it is? Who is it?"

"It is indeed an interstellar jaunting beam." TIM's voice was grave. "But I was not expecting any arrivals from the Trig or elsewhere, Abigail."

Abby glanced around her, releasing the boy and turning away from him. Thomas would just have to wait for his explanation. "Clear the room," she ordered briefly, and there was a flurry of activity as the technicians and administrators jaunted out.

Stepping back, Thomas tried to sink further into his corner, raising his mental defences to conceal his thoughts. The tension in the room was tangible. He had to see what happened. In any case, how could he return to the top level, still uncertain of what Abby had meant? With Thomas behind her, Abby seemed not to notice him when she looked around briefly at the few security guards and agents who remained, Sophie included. She hesitated for a moment as she saw the stun guns the guards held by their sides, but then she gave a brief nod. "Best to be ready, I suppose," she said, mostly to herself, before fixing the most senior of the Lab security guards with a firm look. "But you're not to fire until I say so, Roger."

The man shrugged. "I know you like to think there's a diplomatic solution to everything, Abby, but I'm not going to let you put yourself in harm's way." He paused, glancing up at the hemispheres suspended above them and ignoring Abigail's indignant response. "TIM, could you put a force field around the jaunting pad?"

There was no time for further argument. Already a humanoid form was forming on the jaunting pad and then, with a final ripple of sound, the new arrival was standing there. He was tall, willowy and moved a little awkwardly as if accustomed to subtly different gravity. Outwardly, he seemed almost human, perhaps a little older than Abby and Kershia, but there was a wrongness in his body language, and a look around his eyes, which told the watching Tomorrow People that the newcomer was not quite what he seemed. An alien, Thomas realised with a sharp intake of breath; he was looking at an actual being from another world!

The stranger looked about him slowly, taking in the entourage arrayed to meet him. Abby and the others watched him carefully in turn, not sure whether or not to make the first move.

It was TIM who finally broke the impasse. "Welcome, Nova," he said warmly as the newcomer's gaze settled on his hemispheres. He produced an electronic cough, his deep voice as calm and soothing as ever. "Abigail, Sophie, Roger, may I introduce Nova, son of Narcissa of Adonisia and our own Carol?"

Abby smiled, relief washing away the adrenalin as a sigh swept the room. She nodded to TIM and the almost imperceptible shimmer of the force field died away. The son of Earth's second Tomorrow Person stepped down from the jaunting pad and bowed formally. "It's good to meet you at last."

"Welcome to Luna, Nova," Abby greeted, half bowing herself in startled response. With a polite gesture she waved him towards one of the room's couches, not far from where Thomas watched. Roger and Sophie moved to sit with them, the other security guards replaced by returning administrators as the everyday business of running Luna resumed. Abigail frowned. "What brings you here? Should we inform the Trig or Adonisia that you've arrived safely?"

A welter of emotions passed across the half-alien's face. Anxiety chased fear and indignation until they were all washed away in a flood of anger. Nova spoke grimly, his fists clenched by his sides. "No one on the Trig knows I've come here, except my mother and her friends. If they knew then my visit might have to be short indeed. Federation security is not going to be happy." He took a deep breath. "I've come to bring you what the Federation have been holding back, what Elizabeth's team have been trying to get out to you for months. I've brought the cure for the Malthus virus."

The gasp burst from Thomas before he could prevent it, the implications for his siblings tumbling into his mind. Abigail and Nova both turned to stare at him, startled. For a moment no one spoke, but then Abby sighed. "Thomas, I think you'd better go back to the others." She glanced back at Nova, her face troubled, but she spoke in a level tone. "There's not going to be time for any more training today."

Thomas stood, uncertainly. His first impulse was to burst out with an angry refusal, but Thomas rarely listened to his first impulses these days. He recognised the determined set of Abigail's face. No matter how desperately he needed to listen to this conversation, he would not persuade her to yield. But perhaps someone else might.

"Wait." Nova held up his hand, leaning forward intently. "This is the Thomas I've heard about?"

Thomas nodded, his expression becoming defensive. Was there no-one in this galaxy who hadn't heard his name?

(Stay, Thomas.) Nova's voice rippled through Thomas's thoughts, unlike any telepathy he had ever felt before. Nova's mental tone, like his speech, was high-pitched and musical, lulling and exciting at the same time. Where any human telepath broadcast a constant stream of subconscious imagery to clarify and add meaning to his words, the Adonisian's imagery was entirely alien and endlessly fascinating. Instinctively, Thomas's thoughts opened as he tried to hear more, and Nova looked into that opening, accepting what he saw of Thomas's mind without condemnation. (You have a right to hear what has been done to you and to the others.)

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Part One:

Mental energy swirled about the newcomers, forcing the children's shields higher, weakening their telepathic link. Alex and his siblings watched, surprised and curious, as four figures stepped from the eddying confusion of hyperspace. Of course, Kershia tried to visit every day since she had taken on her responsibilities in the Lab down below, and they had felt Thomas as his thoughts turned to them. It was seldom, though, that Abigail visited them here in the top level, and rarer still for them to meet others.

The Malthus children gathered quickly. With their formal lessons over for the day, Adi, Sanela and the seven of them had been scattered through the two large common areas and network of auxiliary rooms that defined their world. Alex and James had paused now in their regular exercises, and Cat was looking up from the study assignment she had been working on for the next day. Without any conscious decision to do so, the three of them slipped into comfortable telepathic contact, pulling in Elizabeth, Edward and the twins, Will and Vicky, as they tried to make sense of the unexpected arrivals. Unsettled, Adi and Sanela abandoned the board game they were playing, the empathic young children moving towards their grandmother as if seeking protection from the sudden rise in tension in the room.

Her mental defences tight, Kershia stepped forward, apologetic eyes on Emina. The old woman pulled herself awkwardly out of her armchair. Her expression was confused, but the children watched her thoughts as their guardian reached a conclusion. Something was happening, Emina realised, something that the Tomorrow People hadn't been able to warn her about - after all, anything she knew, the children would discover mere moments later. "Well, children, you all know Abigail," she told them calmly, despite her sudden anxiety for them. "Say 'Good Afternoon'."

Abby nodded her greeting in response, her expression serious but not unfriendly. "And this - " the Canadian woman laid a hand on the arm of the tall, wide-eyed man on her left - " is Nova. He arrived an hour ago..." She paused, catching the eyes of each of the children. "With news you need to hear."

They stared. With a rush of thought and emotion, the Malthus children felt the mental shape of the creature before them, and recoiled in fascinated alarm. Alex clung instinctively to the minds of the others, checking that they sensed what he was sensing. The question tumbled out of his mouth before they could control it: "What *are* you?"

"Alexander!" Emina's reprimand was shocked. "Apologise to the gentleman!"

Nova smiled, although there was a moment of pain in his expressive eyes that startled the children. "Please, don't. The question is valid, and it's not as if I've not heard it before." Nova looked straight at Alex. "I'm half Homo superior, half Adonisian." He shrugged dismissively, clearly trying to put the children at their ease. "There are a few of us about now, since the number of refugees on my planet exploded, but I was the first."

Alex and the others nodded distractedly, but despite their curiosity, they weren't listening any longer. Their eyes were fixed on Thomas, Nova's nature all but forgotten. Their eldest brother had jaunted into the room with Abby and the others, but as the adults exchanged pleasantries, the tension in his mind had been rising. At first the other children had tried not to hear Thomas's agitation, but their brother had never been able to shield against them with complete security. Now his leaking thoughts were becoming impossible to ignore. Alex knew that his mouth was open as he stared. He gasped, wide-eyed, but it was Cat who put the thought into words.

"There's a cure? You have it? Here? Now?"

Alex shook his head, trying to comprehend the idea. He felt the confused muddle of reactions from his siblings. He felt James's excitement and Catherine's fear, both strong emotions colouring the response of their less dominant brothers and sisters. Most ominously, he felt Thomas's pain; memories of what he had done still hurting after all this time. What would the Tomorrow People do with the Malthus children, if the virus were no longer a threat? And what would the children do with freedom if it were to be offered? Instinctively, all the Malthus children focused their thoughts on Nova, searching for a crack in his mental defences, trying to learn more.

(Stop that!) Abigail's order was sharp and the children reeled as they realised what they were doing. Leading the link with the ease of long practice, Cat and Alex threw up mental shields against their siblings, leaving the others struggling to frame some kind of response. Slowly their mental link reformed and Alex sank back into it, but he was shaken. They hadn't launched a concerted mental attack of that kind since the first days after they had been taken from Operation Malthus. It worried them all to find that they were still capable of it.

"We ... we're sorry," Cat stammered, not quite meeting Nova's eyes. The man's expression was shocked and Kershia stepped forward, instinctively apologising for the children. Nova held up a hand to stop her, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"You're old enough to know that isn't acceptable behaviour!" Abigail scolded. She sighed, looking at the pale children scattered around the room, and gestured at the school desk to one side of her. "You'd better come and sit down. We've got a lot to talk about."

Despite her own disquiet, Emina nodded matter-of-factly. With a flurry of words and gestures, she gathered her wide-eyed grandchildren, Alex and his siblings around their school table, settling herself in the comfortable chair to one side of it. Their senses heightened by their mental contact, the Malthus children saw themselves through the old woman's eyes: eager to learn, isolated, young for their age, and frighteningly intense in their attention on Nova and the others.

Too many of the minds around them were hidden behind mental defences. They had been trained to share the thoughts of everyone they met and Emina's matter-of-fact views were like a window into the wider world outside their own. She didn't like much of what happened on the Earth below, but then she was far from uncritical of what happened in Luna, particularly when it came to the eight of them. The children felt her concern and her excitement at the news. They needed to be let out - the thought floated across the surface of Emina's mind and rang clearly though each of theirs. They needed to be shown the real world.

(Perhaps,) Thomas's voice echoed suddenly through the minds of his siblings, letting them know that he was both aware of, and listening to, their customary mental link. (But are you ready for what you'll find there?)

Their eldest brother moved to sit with his siblings; offering silent support despite his anxious words. Kershia, Abigail and Nova stood at the head of the table, the room seeming crowded with so many adults present. Nova eyed the group cautiously, but his expression faded into compassion as he noted the scared looks on each of the pale faces. They were thirteen years old now, of course, but they hardly seemed it. Their isolation had left them confused and awkward, younger perhaps than their chronological age. The children felt him reach out, testing each of their minds far more gently than they had tested his.

"None of the others have broken out yet?" he asked, clearly surprised. He blinked, more startled still as every pair of eyes in the room turned to stare at him in confusion.

"What do you mean ... yet?" Thomas asked, his tone stunned. His siblings felt his disbelief, sharing it.

"Look at it logically." Nova spoke to Thomas, but his eyes flicked from face to face as if amazed that they hadn't thought about this before. "The children were genetically manipulated, yes, but the Saps must have started with strongly telepathic genetic parents - otherwise they would have to build an entire genome from nothing. So they take Sap telepaths, who already have some fraction of the genes that make up a Tomorrow Person, and they enhance them with other genes: to improve the transmission of neurotransmitters; to add telepathic abilities the parents didn't possess; to reshape the mental patterns. If, heavens forefend, we were to set out to create Tomorrow People, we couldn't approach it any differently." He paused, studying Thomas's face. "We were all shocked when you broke out, Thomas, but we shouldn't have been. We should have been shocked if some of you hadn't. That realisation was a breakthrough with the antivirus. The virus's behaviour is so closely linked to breakout that it seemed natural to assume that the Saps understood the underlying mechanisms. Elizabeth's team had assumed that the Saps knew what they were doing; it was a revelation to learn that they hadn't a clue."

Kershia looked from the children to Abigail uncertainly, as startled as they were by the revelation. The children could feel the two women speaking telepathically, clearly discussing how best to approach this issue. In the end it was Kershia who spoke.

"There is a cure." There was a squeal of delight from Sanela, and Kershia spared her a smile before continuing slowly. "We could inoculate each of you right now, and tomorrow you would be free to mix with other children with no threat to their health." Kershia sighed deeply, her hidden thoughts clearly mirroring those Thomas had broadcast. "But can we trust you with that freedom?"

Alex drew in a sharp breath, shocked to hear the question given voice. Instinctively he reached out to Cat, but she blocked him, no longer the anchor against the storm that she had always been for her siblings. Alex hesitated but then opened his mind fully to the others, and Thomas joined their link, bolstering their confidence, gently soothing them.

"Test us." Cat spoke abruptly, her tone flat. Her shoulder-length hair had fallen across her face as she gazed at the floor. Now as she looked up, it fell away, revealing the streaks of tears running down her pale face. They felt her terror, the prospect of being placed in the same position as Thomas undermining her self-confidence. "Test our minds. See if we're being dishonest." This time it was Nova who touched their minds lightly with comfort. The eight children looked up at him with gratitude, but the fear remained of what they might do, if left free.

The women exchanged anxious looks. Emina shrugged, her hand resting on her granddaughter's shoulder. Sanela's face was still flushed with excitement, but her expression had become wary as she sensed the tension in the room. Adi stood quietly by his sister and grandmother, his eyes flickering around the room as if he were scared to let them settle on any one person for too long.

"It seems like a reasonable enough request," Emina noted, clearly curious about Abby's hesitation. The children watched in silence, knowing what they were asking. It would be no small matter for anyone to place their mind in the children's hands.

"Let me do it." Nova spoke aloud, drawing all eyes to him. His eyes were on the children as he spoke to their elders. "You're hesitating because in the kind of deep link they're talking about, information will travel both ways. We can't prevent that, and of course, if you don't trust them then ... you know too much, Abigail, Kershia. But I don't know any of the details you're frightened of leaking."

"Nova," Abigail's voice was concerned, "are you sure? This is more than we have any right to ask of you. The problems of Luna and Earth aren't your problems, after all."

Nova's violet eyes became momentarily distant. "There are more than half a million refugees on Adonisia, Abigail. Mother was desperate to help John by taking in as many as she could. At first we could scatter them about, merge them into the population. It wasn't perfect, but it worked. My father's people are naturally empathic and telepathic. The new minds coming in were exotic, exciting, adding colour to a pastel world. But then the numbers started to grow. The fear and bitterness they brought with them began to spread. Before, my family had been both a novelty and a symbol of what our peoples could achieve together; instead we became an emblem of all that had gone wrong with both our worlds." He looked around at the Malthus children, the eight of them trapped between worlds, just as he was himself. "Now ... the refugees live in purpose built settlements - ghettos - built to keep them apart from a population that resents them and all they stand for. Mother has tried to argue for better conditions; my siblings and I have done all we can to help, but we just don't have the resources we need - any more than you do here. If I can help you at all, I will. Believe me, I have no interest in seeing this situation slide any further out of control."

******

They sat around the school table, Nova and the eight Malthus children hand in hand. Blue eyes and green and violet met nervously, all full of trepidation but determined. Slowly, those eyes drifted closed. Thomas was the first to open his mind to his younger siblings, and even after a month, he was welcomed to their link joyfully, like a prodigal returned.

(We are all of us more than we were ever intended to be.) Thomas led them in the thought.

Gently, he probed the minds of each of them, trying to understand them better before Nova joined the link. He attempted to disentangle their entwined minds, trying to better understand each of his brothers and sisters in turn. They resisted instinctively, Edward and Elizabeth clinging mentally to their stronger siblings, William and Victoria pushing the intrusion away by force of will, as Catherine, Alexander and James held the group together.

With a mental sigh, Thomas yielded, accepting their unity. They felt his pain at not sharing it, and his memories flashed through them, memories of all he had done and regretted since they had been parted. Together they offered comfort to their elder brother, sharing his pain. They reminded him of their childhood, of the inevitability of his decision. However, they felt his uncertainty. Would any of them have chosen differently? Would they do so, even now?

Nova joined them then, reaching them through Thomas at first, then directly, as he grew more confident. The memories of their past still echoed in the link and Nova was caught by the resonance. Images of an alien childhood poured through them, a subconscious broadcast which drew them in, fascinated. Rolling hills stretched under a sky of vibrant blue while elaborate ceremonies were enacted in great cities. Parents peered at him with interest, curious about this strange mixture of their genes with an alien's. Children laughed, too young to understand the pain of simply being different. Shimmering spheres hung in space - the Galactic Trig, where differences were less important, yet even here the good times couldn't last. Refugees poured through the Trig and into those soaring cities, just a trickle at first but then a flood, washing the peace of Nova's old life away. He stood alone before a panel of ambassadors, defending the planet that had never been his home - for the sake of both his peoples.

Nova recoiled. His shielding pulled into place, dampening the echoes in the mental link. The children watched him in silence, uncertain of what to say, or how to frame the questions they wanted to ask. Gradually, Nova opened his mind to them once again. (I'm not here to judge you. I want to help you. I'm here to understand.)

(To understand!) Cat's thoughts were bitter, and under her leadership, all eight of them pulled sharply away from Nova. (How can anyone understand us when we don't understand ourselves?) She let them see her anger at being forced to confront her fears. Images of the walls that surrounded them here on Luna streamed through the link - safe walls, comforting walls that kept the world from their door. Here they were protected, cared for. Could it be worth abandoning that security for a mere sight of that distant horizon?

Nova, gentle, compassionate. (No one will force you to leave, but the world is out there, Catherine, and even you must live with it. Even deciding to remain here is a choice, and now that you know it, will these four walls be your haven or your prison?)

Alex shaped their response, alarmed by Cat's distress. (How do we choose?) he asked simply. (Who are we to choose who is right and who is wrong? You want to know if you can trust us, but we hardly know ourselves. You know what it is to be caught between worlds, Nova. Can't you see how hard it is?)

Nova, responding subconsciously: an alien child under an alien sky, supporting the weight of two worlds on his outstretched palms. Adonisia and Earth formed a perfect counterbalance, and yet one must be home; one must be the culture that would shape the child's life. The Malthus children absorbed the thought with relief and satisfaction. They had known that he would understand.

(I know. You want to believe that you can choose to remain neutral, never tipping the balance. You want to stand apart. I understand.) Nova sighed, his thoughts sad. (I watch my parents' races clashing on a daily basis. I stand between them as if on a knife edge, and I choose to do what I believe to be right, always. How can I do more?)

(Do what we believe to be right? But what is right?) The question was agonised and Cat's voice led those of her siblings. (What will stop us from repeating Thomas's mistakes?)

Nova hesitated. His thoughts flooded with memories - of events good and bad, of choices made and their consequences. (I've known people to act according to their conscience and yet be very, very wrong. I've known others to act against their will, and their instincts, and yet do great good. I believe there is such a thing as absolute good and absolute wrong, but I cannot claim to know where those limits lie. I can only advise you to look at the people around you and judge them by their actions. You must reach your own conclusions.)

There was silence for a long moment, the children sinking into the security of their deep mental bond as they considered Nova's words. Thomas pulled apart from the others, allowing them to see his certainty in the conclusion he had reached.

The others hesitated, still unsure. It was James who broke from the group first. (We won't harm the Tomorrow People,) he told Nova simply, Will and Vicky echoing their brother a moment later. (We won't help them either, but we won't hurt them.)

Alex nodded solemnly, moving to join their mental stand, and he brought Edward and Elizabeth with him. Cat's thoughts were still frightened and confused, but a moment later she sent her agreement. United once again, the seven children faced their gentle inquisitor. Their tired thoughts were unanimous now and free of all doubt.

(Luna is safe from us, Nova,) Cat murmured, her voice strengthening as her siblings reinforced her thoughts. (We will not betray its secrets.)

Nova studied them at a depth beyond words, probing, evaluating. Finally, he nodded.

(You have a difficult balance to maintain,) he told them quietly, (and I don't envy you the task. But I believe you are sincere and I honestly trust that, in the long run, you will make the right choice, even if it is not easy. I can only offer you all my prayers.)

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Part Two:

THE GUARDIAN, UK - 24th May 2021
'WHISTLEBLOWER MAKES BIOLOGICAL WEAPON ALLEGATIONS'

A senior technician has spoken out today amid the escalating furore surrounding her suspension last week from the top secret Anbridge Military Research Establishment (AMRE). Rianna Malloney, 37, believes that she was targeted for discrimination and unwarranted disciplinary action after approaching senior military intelligence personnel with concerns over research carried out at AMRE. Ms. Malloney claims to have begun to question the nature of her work while employed as an assistant technician in the establishment's gene sequencing laboratory.

"We were told that we were analysing potential pathogens that infantry might be exposed to in sub-tropical climates," she told reporters at a press conference organised by her legal team. "But I've worked in gene labs for more than fifteen years, and I've never seen anything like the samples we were handling. I'm convinced we were replicating biological material designed to target specific human gene sequences."

The Ministry of Defence in London has this evening declined to comment on the 'Malloney Allegations'. A spokesman for the ministry told assembled reporters that: "Internal disciplinary issues remain a matter for the authorities of the establishment in question and do not fall under the purview of this ministry."

Ms. Malloney's lawyers plan to challenge her dismissal at the closed-door military employment tribunal established more than a decade ago in response to a string of similar, so-called 'whistleblower' cases. They have called for a full public enquiry into activities at the Anbridge centre.

*****

Kershia sighed in relief, flexing fingers stiff from typing before accepting the glass Stephanie held out to her. Her life seemed to have become a daily grind of paperwork and administration. Still, another day was drawing to an end in London, far below; perhaps now she and the others would get a few hours respite from their incessant work. She dropped heavily into a chair and smiled gratefully at Stephanie, who nodded before returning to her own seat next to Roger on the sofa. At least there was still plenty of room for them all to relax here on Luna's top level - possibly the one place in the complex where that was still true.

Since Abby had instigated Luna's night shift, as much to relieve pressure on shared sleeping quarters as to ensure the smooth running of the complex, even the control level bustled with activity twenty-four hours a day. It was no longer the silent haven during the hours of darkness that it had been even a short time before. Instead Abby, Kershia and the other leading Tomorrow People retreated here, to the common room that had once been the sole province of the Malthus children. Up here they could unwind for an hour or two, out of the public eye, before returning to their own shared rooms and snatching a few hours troubled sleep.

It was rare for them to bring a guest here. Nonetheless, Nova had joined them, the tall Adonisian a familiar sight to the leading Tomorrow People after a week in Luna. He hadn't intended to remain so long at first, but the Malthus children seemed to fascinate him, their position as outsiders in the closed culture of Luna so reminiscent of his own childhood. So he had stayed, sleeping on the upper level in an effort to avoid discovery by Federation agents. His intensive work with the children was helping them come to terms with their changed circumstances in a way that even Emina and Kershia's guidance couldn't rival.

Now Nova, Kershia, Stephanie, Roger and Abigail sprawled in their armchairs, sipping their drinks and enjoying the companionable silence as they waited for the others to arrive. They barely reacted to the shimmering music that accompanied Jimmy's arrival, watching as he stretched luxuriously, tilting his head from side to side in an attempt to work some of the day's tension out of his stiff neck. He settled gratefully into a chair, telekinetically summoning a drink into his outstretched hands.

"What a day!" he smiled wryly. "My team pulled two breakouts through the trauma, and we were only supposed to be advising the local lab on security!" He stretched his legs out in front of him, slouching in his chair. "It's good to get off my feet!" He grinned with a good humour that he would only allow himself in the presence of these few people. "So how was everyone else's day?"

"Long," Kershia volunteered without hesitation.

"Dull," Abby added a moment later.

"And tiring," Stephanie finished the thought. Her expression became thoughtful, worried. "My people spent the entire day tailing UK politicians, trying to get some kind of hint about this Malloney business."

"Malloney business?" Nova repeated, his brow creasing in confusion.

Kershia groaned theatrically, trying to lighten the sudden tension in the air. "You had to bring it up!" she complained half-heartedly.

"Can't we leave this until tomorrow morning?" Abby pleaded, shaking her head. Already though, it was too late. Roger and Stephanie sat alertly now, Roger's arm falling away from Stephanie's shoulders as both security agents focused on the threat.

Jimmy's cheerful façade folded away as if it had never existed, replaced by the cool and clinical face of the head of TP security.

"I don't like it," he said abruptly, frowning as he gazed into nothing. "TIM hadn't even picked up a hint that that place was doing genetic research, and with their level of encryption it could take him months to get into their databases. If they're keeping it that quiet ..."

"It could be exactly what the authorities are saying it is," Abby pointed out, but without conviction. "A centre for developing vaccines."

"And it could be much worse." Roger leaned forward, punctuating his words with a sharp hand gesture. "We know what kind of damage a gene-specific virus could do. These people have done it before."

(Malthus.) The name hung in the air between them, as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud.

(Quietly!) Kershia's sharp order rang through their minds, forcing mental defences higher, making them all jump in a ripple of movement. (The children might be in their rooms, but they're still awake. They're unsettled enough after what Nova told them. Do you want them to 'hear' this?)

Jimmy shook his head in answer to the rhetorical question, acknowledging the warning, but his eyes were on Abby. "We can't let this one go without checking," he told her simply. "Can we take the chance that this is another Operation Malthus? That they've redeveloped the Malthus virus, or the Serpent's Tooth? A variant we can't cure?" He glanced at Nova apologetically. "Do we really want to go through all this again? We destroyed the samples and the records, but it's been almost five years, Abby. We don't know what might have happened since then."

"But if this place is locked down as tight as we think it is, it'll be dangerous," Abigail pointed out, knowing that it would make little difference. Stephanie dismissed the argument with a wave of her hand.

"We're talking about a fact-finding mission, that's all. Trying to work out the lie of the land." She frowned thoughtfully. "It's not so much getting in once that's the problem. It's getting in, finding what we need to find, going where we need to go, and getting out again without them knowing we were ever there. We can work out if we'll need to take action later - but not if they've been alerted first." She paused, shaking her head, and her voice became determined as she turned back to Abigail. "But, Abby, we've been on missions just as dangerous, and with less motivation or evidence to go on."

Abigail studied Jimmy's second in command carefully. "You too, Steph?"

Stephanie just nodded, leaving Jimmy to speak for them both.

"You've always told us that we need to be more proactive, Abby. We've put our lives in danger because you've asked us to. We've trusted your instincts, and you've been right. This time you're going to have to trust ours."

Abby and Kershia shared a long look. Finally, slowly, Kershia nodded. "They're right. The Malthus mission might have gone wrong, but none of us can say it wasn't necessary. This is the same."

Abby took a deep breath, hunching her shoulders as if they carried a physical as well as allegorical burden. She fixed Jimmy with a sombre look. "All right, bring us proposals and we'll look at them. If you can think of a way of getting someone inside, it's worth a shot."

Jimmy nodded, grim satisfaction on his face. "I'll look into it," he promised. "It won't be easy, but we'll find a way."

There was silence after that. Any chance of relaxation was gone now. The minds of the trained security agents, Kershia included, dwelt already on the complexity of the mission ahead. Abby didn't break their concentration, accepting but regretting the necessity of placing her people in danger. When it came, TIM's deep voice was an almost welcome interruption.

"I am sorry to intrude upon your evening."

Kershia stirred in her chair, looking up towards the room's ceiling sensor. "We aren't exactly relaxed, TIM. What's the matter?"

"I believe you should see this at once." There was a note of urgency in the biotronic computer's voice that drew all their eyes to the room's large monitor screen, even as it lit to an incoming signal.

*****

'BBC NEWS Live Broadcast, Whitehall, London' - the caption ran in a bar across the bottom of the screen, drawing their attention from the woman who stood framed above it. The Defence Secretary was a short woman, smartly dressed in a straight skirt and matching jacket. Her expression was calm and collected as she stood on the steps of the MoD building, surveying the array of media teams in front of her. She cleared her throat sharply, blinking in the barrage of camera flashes and taking half a step backwards to avoid the many microphones that had been thrust towards her face.

"Thank you for coming." She mouthed the pleasantry without any real feeling behind it. "As I'm sure you are all aware, there has been increasing speculation regarding activities at the Anbridge Military Research Establishment, or AMRE. As you have been repeatedly assured, all research at AMRE complies with government policy guidelines. In light of this, I am pleased to announce that AMRE will open its doors for one day only as part of the Government's core curriculum 'Social and Political Studies in Context' initiative for thirteen-to-sixteen year olds. As I believe you know, this year's SPSC open day is being held in four days time and will make a cross section of industrial, service and administrative environments accessible to young people taking the first steps towards their future career paths. Registered school parties interested in attending the AMRE open day are invited to register only at the Ministry of Defence's Information Portal. As you will appreciate, places are limited."

She scowled, the almost singsong tone of her voice as she recited the government line on the SPSC initiative fading into something sharper and angrier. "It is hoped that this action will calm the unwarranted hysteria being propagated by irresponsible elements of the media. Thank you."

The minister stepped backwards out of the circle of lights, ignoring the immediate barrage of questions. Already the minister's minders were hustling her into her big black car, leaving disappointed reporters to turn back into their cameras and struggle for the words to summarise the brief and unexpected statement.

*******

"This is it!" Jimmy was the first to speak as the image faded from the viewscreen and his voice was triumphant. "This is how we get in."

"How?" Kershia demanded, brushing strands of her brown hair back away from her eyes with a frustrated gesture. "You don't think they'll be vetting any adult who goes in? Even if you could attach yourself to one school group or another, your people would never get past the checks!"

Nova moved to sit on the edge of his seat, caught up in the excitement but with confusion on his face. "I don't understand. Why schoolchildren?"

"Children expect to be controlled." It was Stephanie who answered. "Even if they don't like it. If the scientists say a room is too dangerous for the children to go into, who's going to object? It was the least that they could get away with. It's clever." She fixed Jimmy with a sharp look. "Kershia is right though, Jimmy. Getting an adult in is not going to be easy."

"I could get in." The quiet voice startled them all and they turned to meet the blue eyes of the thirteen-year-old boy in the doorway, various combinations of surprise and dismay in their expressions.

"Alex - " Kershia began.

"You need a child to get into that place." Alexander's voice cut across hers and it was as grim as the look on his face. "You need to learn what's there. I was trained for infiltration and investigation. I was made for this. I can do it."

There was silence for a long moment before Abby broke it. "Come in, Alex," she told him calmly. "How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough." Alexander strode into the room, defiance and all the arrogance of youth in his voice, as if trying to mask his guilt at eavesdropping and intruding. "Operation Malthus was on all your minds. We couldn't help but overhear."

Abigail frowned. "We? Who are we talking to, Alex? You or your siblings?"

Anger flashed momentarily across the boy's face. "You're talking to me!" he snapped, then he sighed. "But the others are listening," he conceded.

"It's out of the question!" Kershia's hand sliced through the air as if chopping off any argument. She stopped Alex's protest with a glare. "Go back to your room, Alexander. This has nothing to do with Operation Malthus and we're not reduced to using children yet!" She looked from face to face, confident that she would find agreement, increasingly distressed to find none. She stood, moving to stand between her former charge and her friends. "Abby, you can't be considering this!"

Abigail couldn't meet the other woman's eyes.

"Have you looked at our demographics lately, Kershia?" she asked quietly. "More and more under-eighteens are breaking out all the time. Even those of us from the first years of the Mass Breakout are in a tiny minority now. I'm not proud of it, but if we're going to get through this, then yes, we're reduced to using children." She looked up, studying Alex's determined face. "Besides, Alex hasn't really been a child for a long time."

Alex met Abby's appraising look bravely. "When we were three years old we were taught how to pick locks in order to improve our motor skills. By the time we were five the General was bringing people into the nursery, just so we could practice stripping the information from their minds. We learnt to programme computers almost as soon as we learnt to write."

Alex felt the shock from the people around him. Nova nodded slowly, unhappily, and the others exchanged anxious looks at Alex's recitation of his childhood. Kershia had tears in her eyes as she listened to him. "We tried to give you a new life, Alex. We tried to keep you out of this. You don't have to get involved."

"She's right." No one was surprised when Thomas jaunted into the room, his expression tight with old pain. "You don't have to get involved - none of us do. After ... after what I did ... I don't think any of us should."

Alex stared at him, suddenly picking memories from his brother's poorly shielded mind. "You knew about this? And you didn't tell us."

"We were made as weapons, Alex, in a war that wasn't ours to fight. Shouldn't we try to be more than just that?"

Alex felt the agreement from his siblings, but he forced it aside. He faced his brother sadly, touching his mind with compassion but determination. "Thomas, I know why you feel that way. I can see why you want to be out of this fight, but you weren't responsible for what happened before. We've learnt so much since. We don't just have to be weapons. A weapon can't choose where it's pointed. We can." He paused, trying to convey his conviction to the others where they watched in the back of his mind. He felt a ripple of fear from Cat, her thoughts closer to Thomas's than his, and a thrill of excitement from James. With an effort he tuned out the complex web of emotions, knowing that he had to assert his independence. "I can, and this is my decision."

He turned to look apologetically at Kershia, his expression almost confused as he tried to think of a way to explain. He wasn't doing this to atone for Thomas's wrongs, or out of desire for the adventure that James craved, or because he wanted to hurt those who had made them as Cat feared. He was doing this because it was the right thing to do. "You've given us a home here. We've spent years trying to forget all we learnt, but Thomas is right about one thing. We were made to be soldiers in this war, and we were given skills to match. We were already nine years old when you rescued us. Some things are not easily forgotten."

"You're not a Tomorrow Person, Alexander." Jimmy spoke for the first time, his tone non-committal. "How were you planning to jaunt down to Earth?"

Thomas sighed, stepping up beside Kershia, almost blocking his younger brother from view. "Are you sure this is necessary?" he demanded, before Alex could respond. He looked around at the certainty in the faces around him. "And no one need get hurt - now or in the future?" He sighed and spoke reluctantly. "Alex doesn't need to jaunt. I'll go instead."

Abigail shook her head. She rose from her chair and placed her hands on Thomas's shoulders, drawing him off to one side. "Thomas, we wouldn't ask it of you. Even if you really wanted this, and even if you were strong enough to jaunt so far, you've been off the Earth for barely more than a month. If anyone from Operation Malthus is involved ...." Her voice trailed off ominously.

Alex nodded. Sidestepping Kershia's protective presence, he crossed the room to stand in front of the security chief, meeting Jimmy eye to eye, man to man.

"I haven't been down there since I was nine years old. Not even David would recognise me now. And as for jaunting - isn't that what matter transporters are for?" he challenged. "To deal with inadequate lumps like me? I'm not a TP, but I am a telepath, Jimmy, a strong one. I can find my way into the places you need to investigate. I can get in and get out again."

Nova had watched in silence. Now he stood, his tall form unfolding from his chair. "You're sure of this?" he asked. Alex just nodded mutely, his eyes steady on his friend's face. Nova frowned, his expression full of regret. "What happened to neutrality, Alex?" he asked softly. "Couldn't it last even a little while?" Alex gave a sad laugh.

"One of my brothers is already a TP," he said simply, glancing at Thomas. "And who knows how many more of us might follow? Catherine tries to cling to the safe past. She wants us to ignore what we are, but the rest of us have known for a long time that after what was done to us, neutrality was never really an option."

********

Part Three:

The coach vibrated with the frustrated energy of an engine forced to idle. There was an air of excitement and anticipation that had the teenagers on the edge of their seats, talking noisily and enthusiastically as they leaned out into the aisle, peering through the windscreen. Ahead of them a red pole barred the road. An armed soldier stood to either side of it, staring forward at attention as a third man spoke to the driver through the coach's open door. Alexander Malthus sat quietly, feeling a little overwhelmed by the noise and the people, struggling to hear the exchange over the racket being made by his peers.

(What's going on, Alex?) Thomas spoke from the telepathic link on distant Luna, pushing Jimmy aside, much to the older man's irritation. Alex smiled as he felt Cat and the others reinforcing Thomas's broadcast, their telepathy almost as powerful as the Tomorrow Person's. Despite their disagreement with Alex's decision, they had been quick to lend their strength to the long-distance link. They had been terrified enough by the prospect of his coming here; they weren't going to let anyone come between them and their distant brother now. With a sigh, Jimmy and the other adults yielded, content for the moment to listen to the reply.

Alex sent a calming thought. (Routine checks, that's all.)

Compared to the difficulty of convincing Kershia to permit this expedition, it had been a trivial matter for TIM to patch himself into the Ministry of Defence network and add Alex's name to the list of one of the visiting school groups. 'Alex Jones' was just one more child among the three hundred who were being admitted to the base. A typical teenage boy, not exceptional according to his school records, but not academically poor enough to stand out either. Alex had read through his file with mixed emotions, wondering if he would have been happier living the life it had described. There was a world Alex Jones knew nothing about, and it held as many joys and wonders as there were threats and concerns. Still, nothing could change the past now, even if he wanted it to. Alex knew that everyone, including himself, had been alarmed at how natural it had felt for him to slip into the Sap minds of the teachers and children around him. If anything, it was shutting them out that proved troublesome. He had planted the idea in their thoughts that he was part of a different year or form-group. Alex Jones was no one special, no one unusual. He was one of them.

There was movement in the coach now, rippling backwards as word of mouth was carried from row to row. Alex passed it on to the people behind him, even as he reported back to Luna. (Everyone has to get out of the coaches so they can check us against their lists,) he told Thomas, grabbing his rucksack from under his seat. He squeezed into the aisle amid the other jostling children, laughing in response to jokes from the rest of them as they waited for the jam to ease.

(Who are you?)

Alex froze for a moment as he caught the suspicious thought. He glanced around casually, trying to identify its source. It was long seconds before he caught the eyes of a boy sitting in the coach's long back row. It was a curious gaze, not frightened, but confused and surprised. Alex tried to remember if this boy's mind had been one of those he had touched earlier, but no, if he had reached a Tomorrow Person's thoughts he would certainly have known about it.

(I was on the coach before you arrived. Who are you?) the boy insisted.

(Don't tell him, Alex.) Kershia's voice suddenly overrode Thomas's in the link, her tone calm but firm. Her words were for his ears only, her thoughts shielded from the other TP. (You know nothing about him, or who might have influenced him.)

Alex didn't need the warning. He grinned at the boy across the sea of people between them.

(I was just curious about this place. I thought I'd sneak in.) The people in front of Alex began to shift, and he turned back towards the front of the coach, keeping his thoughts casual as he broke eye contact with the TP boy. He sent a mental image of a hand extended in greeting. (I'm Alex.)

The image of a hand took his own and shook it, but the imagery was weak and blurred at the edges, the mark of a half-trained mind. (I'm Gerry. Well, Gerald really, but you know how it is.)

Alex rolled his eyes and let amusement seep into his thoughts. (Try living with a name like Alexander! Even I think it's too much of a mouthful to use. What Lab are you from, Gerry?)

(Careful, Alex!) Thomas's thoughts were urgent. (Are you completely sure he's a TP? You haven't seen him jaunt. You know what we are. Are you sure he's not the same?)

Alex hesitated. It was one thing for his brother, with the power of the link behind him, to whisper in his ear. It was quite another for him, a telepath alone and without the boost of a link table, to shout to Luna without a nearby TP overhearing. Passively, he allowed Thomas to see the certainty in his thoughts, not trying to project it. He had been on Luna long enough to recognise the difference between Tomorrow People and Sap telepaths like himself. Admittedly he might not notice if he wasn't looking, but he was probing now as deeply as he dared and he knew - Gerry was a Tomorrow Person as surely as Thomas himself.

The boy's thoughts coloured with excitement. (You're from a Lab? The people who helped me break out said that it's safer not to be with Lab TPs, but I've always wanted to meet one.)

(We're not that exciting.) Alex smiled a little sadly as he stepped, blinking, out of the coach and into the daylight. Gerry's friends were probably right. It was safer for the boy to be well away from the vulnerability of the Labs, and he certainly wasn't alone. There must be millions of TPs out there, helped to break out by others nearby, who had never been near their closest Lab. It was a pity nonetheless. A Tomorrow Person was never intended to live in isolation, robbed of the opportunity to share mental contact with others, robbed of the opportunity for training.

"Name?" the soldier by the coach door asked in a bored tone. Alex answered in the thrilled tone of an excited schoolboy, letting the telepathic conversation with Gerry lapse. The soldier typed the answer into his palmtop and Alex tried not to react as the photograph TIM had attached to his confidential school records appeared on the small screen. A thirteen-year-old shouldn't know that the soldier's possession of the photo was out of the ordinary. Alex just smiled and got a small answering smile in return as he was awarded a plastic badge and waved forward through the gates. With a shiver of anticipation, he entered Anbridge Military Research Establishment as an authorised visitor.

******

The first two hours passed in a blur of talks and tours, sufficiently dull that even the most enthusiastic of the school-age secret agent hopefuls started to wonder if the work at AMRE really was as mundane as the MoD was claiming. Alex went with the flow, finding to his surprise that he enjoyed the tour, joking with the other kids from 'his' school as he gained confidence, listening to the talk from the establishment's information officer with cynical amusement. He fielded Gerry's constant questions about his Lab with vague answers, claiming that he seldom visited it himself. He found himself liking the other boy, despite the questions. It was refreshing to encounter another telepath so utterly free of the shadows that hung over Luna.

The two of them were assigned to the same tour group, along with thirteen of their peers and one teacher, with a single soldier assigned to act as guide and guard. He felt Thomas, Kershia, Jimmy and the others fretting about that. It was a strain for them to make contact with his mind from such a distance without letting Gerry become aware of their presence. Just for now, Alex didn't really mind. It was strangely invigorating to be on the end of such a long rope, still in contact with the others, but too distant for them to keep him under tight control. Later he would slip away from Gerry and the rest of his group, but he would give AMRE's authorities time to relax first. He had all day, after all.

In the base's main canteen, with three hundred children releasing the frustration of the morning's tightly controlled programme in the sheer noise of their lunchtime conversation, Alex could almost sympathise with the frustration and anger at their presence that he had sensed from the soldiers he'd encountered that morning. Even after living for years above the mental concentration that was Luna, he was finding the sheer presence of the crowd difficult to deal with.

(You're doing fine, Alex,) Thomas told him silently, reassuring his younger brother. Alex could feel Cat and the others behind Thomas still, but Kershia was gone now, no longer in the link. It had been like that all day; one or more of the adults always present, others drifting in and out as their duties and other calls on their time permitted. Only Nova was a constant, his rich mental imagery weaving strength and complexity into the link. (Kershia and the others are all still on Luna, Alex, waiting.) Thomas had followed the thought. (They'll be here when you need them. We all will.)

Alex glanced across the room to where Gerry was playing an impromptu game of tag between the lunch tables with others from their school, much to their teachers' irritated dismay. The innocent young TP was too caught up in his own affairs to listen to any stray thoughts now.

(I know, Thomas. I know,) Alex told his brother quietly, and felt relief flooding through the link as he broke his long silence. It was one thing for them to know that he was well, quite another to hear his voice. (I'm fine,) he told them, forcing his own uncertainty to one side. (There's nothing here that I can't handle.)

(Are you sure?) Thomas pressed. Alex just waited and felt his eldest brother sigh as he answered his own question. (Of course you are. You always are. What are you planning to do now, Alex?)

(Wait until after lunch,) Alex told him promptly. (Now's when they'll be expecting people to slip away. I'll get away from my group as soon as they've checked us off their list and we start the next part of the tour.) He felt their approval and frowned to himself before going on. (I haven't seen any areas obviously more tightly guarded than the others. I'm going to have to go exploring.)

(Be careful,) Nova called, even as a whistle blew and a shouted command had the children begin to reassemble into their tour groups.

(Always,) was all Alex had time for as he moved to rejoin Gerry and the others.

******

He began to reach out to the minds around him almost as soon as they were out of sight of the canteen building. It seemed so simple to drop suggestions into the Sap minds nearby. He wasn't important, he told them, speaking on a level their conscious minds didn't even realise existed. He was nothing. They would look at the group and of course he would be there; there was no point in double-checking. He was too insignificant to worry about. He would never even think of disobeying their instructions and leaving the group.

Gerry's eyes widened as he caught the edges of Alex's thoughts. (What are you doing?)

Alex grinned at him, careful to keep his thoughts light and mischievous. (Going exploring,) he said simply, his focus on his mission now rather than his new friend.

Gerry didn't return his grin. His thoughts were angry and disgusted. (But this ...? I always thought the press were wrong about us. I didn't believe any TP would influence Saps like this, even if they could.)

(Careful, Alex!) Thomas warned again, sensing his brother's dismay at Gerry's suddenly hostile reaction. (You still don't know that you can trust him.)

Irritated and upset, Alex ignored him. (Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to,) he answered them both, momentarily guilty as he felt Thomas react to the words. He shut out the whispers from Luna, stepping forward to take Gerry's arm. The other boy backed away, almost as if afraid, and Alex followed, desperate to make Gerry understand that he wasn't twisting Sap minds on some whim, simply for the fun of it.

Neither of them noticed that the group had stepped into a broad hallway with four new corridors opening from it, nor did they notice the armed guards that stood just inside one of the corridors, until Gerry staggered suddenly, clutching his head in pain. Alex backed away, eyes wide and face pale, only now realising that the sudden headache he had put down to stress was due to nothing of the kind. Desperately he tried to reach for Thomas and the others, sensing only a void where they had been.

The guards reacted to Gerry's pain, stepping forward with their hands on their firearms. Gerry's legs gave way from under him as the Barlumin in their weapons came just that little bit closer, and he fell to the ground, shaking in the throws of a Barlumin-induced fit. Alex stumbled back into the wall, catching it for support and watching the tableau in silent horror.

It was a relief when the teacher and the other students in their group surrounded Gerry, forcing the guards to step backwards. The armed men, unused to being surrounded by civilians, let alone civilian children, looked in consternation at the guide attached to the group. The guide waved them back in alarm, already speaking urgently into his radio, explaining, calling for a medical team.

"Gerald?" The teacher was calling Gerry's name urgently, loosening the unconscious boy's collar and checking his pulse.

"We'll see he's taken him to a clinic, ma'am. You stay with the other children," the guide told her, his tone making it an order. "Does he have a history of epilepsy, at all?" The teacher shook her head, and Alex watched the man's mouth set in a firm line, his suspicions all but confirmed.

A rattle of machinery announced that a trolley of some kind was already being wheeled towards them. It approached along the long, sterile corridor, pushed by a single orderly in military colours. Alex swallowed hard as he saw it pass the pair of armed guards, still hovering nervously at the mouth of the corridor. The future played itself out before his eyes, his mind leaping ahead to the inevitable conclusion.

Gerry was going to be taken away.

Down the one corridor in this base guarded with Barlumin weapons.

To be studied by people who knew he had collapsed because of Barlumin exposure.

Alex pushed himself off the wall. The guards had holstered their weapons, frowning, and the Barlumin influence seemed to have faded a little as they did so. Nevertheless, Alex tried to give them a wide berth as he walked unsteadily to the side of the trolley. He caught hold of it for support, even as Gerry was loaded onto it, his body still trembling with the subsiding fit. Alex gritted his teeth, forcing his body to remain under his own command. He couldn't let them take Gerry away from him, not when all this was his fault.

His teacher glanced at him dismissively, and through the pain and the emptiness in his thoughts, Alex realised that his earlier psychic suggestion was holding. "I need to go with him." His voice sounded odd even to himself, hollow and strained.

The soldier who had come with the trolley frowned at him, but the man attached as guide to their party merely shook his head distractedly. "Just let the kid go. He's not important."

Alex held the side of the trolley, trying to conceal how heavily he had to lean on it in order to keep his balance. The world seemed to spin about him, light bursting in flashes across the back of his eyes. His thoughts echoed hollowly around the inside of his head, and he felt a staggering, deafening silence that he could barely comprehend. One foot in front of the other, he told himself firmly. One foot in front of the other, the trolley guiding and supporting him, until finally he was past the guards, and the orderly, two children and trolley spilled into a room opening off the corridor.

Alex released his death-grip on the trolley as his head slowly began to clear. He still felt dizzy and deaf, his thoughts numb, but he was adjusting now, his body coming to terms with the loss even as his mind protested it. There was no Barlumin in here, and the weapons the corridor guards carried were a hundred metres behind him. He supposed he should feel lucky that the toxic mineral was too scarce to saturate this place, but with his mind trying to crawl out of his ears, the word 'luck' seemed hardly appropriate. He tried to think clearly as a white-coated woman leaned over the still-unmoving Gerry, checking his pulse and shining a light into his pupils, looking for dilation. The doctor shook her head dismissively, and Alex's blood ran cold as she pulled the school jumper away from Gerry's waist, glancing at his belt.

Anxiously, Alex looked around him, slipping into a chair by the side of Gerry's trolley and trying to make himself small and inconspicuous. I'm not here! he thought urgently, not sure himself how far his abilities had been affected by the brief and mild exposure to Barlumin. Perhaps if he believed it, others might. I'm not here.

He was in the outer room of a laboratory, the clean room area visible through a glass wall to one side. Computers littered almost every surface in the room, some with figures streaming past too quickly to read, others displaying the swirling, almost hypnotic patterns of screensavers. Alex felt his analytic training come to the fore, pushing his confusion and pain to one side. He was finally in the place he had been looking for, the centre of all that went on here, and he couldn't tell anyone! His fists clenched in frustration. How long before Kershia and the others activated his matter transporter and recalled him? Already Thomas and Cat and the others would be panicking and searching desperately for his mental touch. Would they trust him to get out of this alone?

Alex looked down at the still form of his friend, thinking hard. He had a mission to complete and only one plan of escape from here, but what price was he willing to pay for that escape? What was he prepared to risk? On sudden impulse, he unclipped the matter transporter from his belt and tucked the compact device securely into Gerry's pocket.

He turned in his chair, startled, as an officer walked through the door, his adjutant at his heels. The officer was a tall man, his face grim as he fixed the doctor with a glare.

"A spy?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "A loner most likely, Major. The boy probably had no idea what he was stumbling into. He just got a mild dose. He'll be out for an hour or two, but no more."

The major sighed, smoothing a nervous hand down the crisp crease in his trousers. He wasn't happy with this open day, forced upon him by media hysteria and political expediency. Even without telepathy, that much was obvious. "Well, we can't say we weren't expecting something like this. The transport's ready. It'll be here in three minutes. He won't even have time to wake before we get him to - somewhere safe." The sentence ended abruptly, its original conclusion bitten off as the major caught sight of Alex for the first time. His face was plastered with a false smile, fraying around the edges with irritation. "And who is this?" he asked in saccharine tones.

"I - well - Gerry's my friend!" Alex didn't have to pretend to be frightened, but he added a protective layer of confusion as he watched the major, only too aware of what 'somewhere safe' must mean when it came to detaining a Tomorrow Person.

The major looked at him blankly for a moment, glanced down at the trolley and then at the soldiers standing by the door before continuing. To his delight, Alex realised through the headache pounding at his temples that he could sense the edges of the man's anger. The major's smile was almost a grimace. "Well, I'm afraid you shouldn't have been let in here. This is a restricted area - " he squinted at the badge fixed to Alex's jumper before going on - "Alex. Now, one of these nice men is going to take you back to your teacher, and we'll see that Gerry here gets to hospital."

Alex let himself be led away, despite the anger and panic he felt. A few metres behind him, Gerry faced a life of imprisonment in a Barlumin-saturated camp. A hundred metres ahead the corridor guards waited, their Barlumin weapons at their sides, and this time there was no trolley for him to lean on, no unconscious TP to draw their eyes. Taking a chance, Alex leaned back against the wall as he and the soldier escorting him entered the corridor. He glanced back at the closed door with obvious concern.

"Will Gerry be okay?" he asked in a frightened, little-boy voice, all the while forcing his way past the pain barrier in his mind, trying desperately to reach his siblings with his sense of fear and urgency. "Will I be able to see him?" (Come on, Thomas! Pull me home!) The thoughts echoed in his head, bringing waves of pain with them, and he knew they weren't getting out, but perhaps something of the emotion behind them would. The private soldier assigned to escort him looked down at the pale boy as if uncertain what to do with him. The personnel here weren't to touch the visitors. The Ministry wanted no incidents - that instruction had been in the soldiers' thoughts since Alex had first arrived. Focusing, he ignored the young man in front of him. (Kershia! Nova! Thomas! I need to come home!) A sharp pain in his mind made him stagger as he fought the residual influence of the Barlumin poisoning, and he looked up frantically at the soldier as if faint with concern. "I shouldn't leave him alone. I ought to go to the hospital with him," he protested weakly.

A musical sound cut through the air behind them, mixed with cries of consternation. Alex closed his eyes momentarily in relief as the matter transporter did its work. Certain for the first time that the flash of anger he had felt from the major hadn't been his imagination, Alex caught the arm of the young soldier, who was turning back towards the laboratory behind them. (I'm not important,) he thought as loudly as he could, using the physical contact to focus and strengthen his shaky abilities. (You took me back to my group. Remember that. I'm not important enough to worry about!).

The soldier gave him a vacant look, uncertain for a moment of what was in front of him, before turning back into the confusion of the laboratory. Alex sighed, relief adding to his dizziness, and leant his throbbing head against the cool wall for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he pulled a slim metal device from a pocket on his belt and turned his attention to the door beside him. It took him thirty seconds to hear the lock click open, and he tumbled through the door, passing out almost before he was able to lock it shut behind him.

******

Part Four:

Alex woke to silence in his ears and in his mind, the carpet rough against his cheek. For a moment all he was aware of was confusion. In all his life he had only ever slept in two places - the Operation Malthus base and Luna's top level. To awake anywhere else, without his siblings around him, was profoundly disorientating. Memory returned in a rush: of the urgency of his mission, of Barlumin exposure, of Gerry and the need to ensure his escape, of the laboratory just a few metres away.

(Alex?) Thomas's voice thundered in his mind, still sensitive with the after-effects of Barlumin poisoning. Alex shut his eyes momentarily, swallowing hard with relief. He felt shaky, too weak to shout as far as Luna, but he knew that Thomas and the others were with him once again. He felt Kershia's fear for his safety, and the ripple of anxious thought that was Nova. He might not be strong enough to speak with them, but they felt him nonetheless. He was no longer alone.

Slowly, Alex pushed himself up on his arms, checking his watch. He'd been out for a whole hour. He looked around the unused office in which he had found himself, trying to decide what to do. An hour seemed like an age but how long was it really? An hour when as far as the soldiers were concerned he was with his school group, and as far as those in the group were concerned, he might as well never have been there. The furore over Gerry's escape must have died down by now. He was a free agent. And he still had a mission to complete.

The laboratory anteroom was empty when Alex slipped out of the neighbouring office. In the end it was simplicity itself to access the computer mainframe, while glancing constantly from side to side, checking both doors and the adjacent lab for danger. The computer screen danced as he ran his fingers over the keyboard, calling up terminal after terminal, studying files as he went. He had been afraid that this would be difficult, the system unfamiliar, but it seemed that the base here used an evolution of the Malthus base's system. He smiled. It was hardly surprising really, given the pace of innovation in the military hierarchy, but it was a welcome relief nonetheless. He had spent nine years playing in a mainframe like this, learning its architecture as naturally as he had learnt to read and write, growing familiar with its quirks and internal syntax. The training came back to him as his fingers flew across the keyboard, shortcutting his way across the system, programming on the command line as he went.

Quickly Alex worked his way from the open terminal into the research database. He frowned at the screen, trying to interpret the genetic data stored there with little success. Shaking his head, he pulled a data stick from his belt pouch, and with quick fingers began to download key files to it, programming a hole in the system's firewall as the seemingly interminable process went on. Finally, nodding to himself in satisfaction, Alex disconnected the stick and slipped it back into his pocket. He had been sent here on a fact-finding expedition, and despite the toils and trials of the day, it was complete.

*******

It was peculiarly anticlimactic for Alex to rejoin the school party he had left so long before. The telepathic compulsion he had planted in their minds lingered still, rendering his presence or absence all but irrelevant to them. The teacher gave him a distracted look, too busy wondering if she should have prevented Gerry's separation from the rest to fight it. The other students, lacking a teacher's need to account for his movements, ignored him completely. Alex was grateful for that. He felt too ill to want to speak to anyone, let alone these strangers.

There was a general sense of anxiety in the group as they rejoined the milling mass of children in the canteen area. The teacher detached herself, speaking urgently to her colleagues and to the public relation officers assigned to the open day as a whole. Where had Gerry been taken? When could she see him? She would get little answer, Alex knew, but it could be worse. Gerry was safe now and all that remained was to get himself clear.

The gate guards counted them out, just as they had counted them in. Alex held his breath as they checked his name against their lists, but he was waved onwards without comment. After all, he wasn't the one who had passed out, and he hadn't even been in the room when the TP escaped. He was obviously no more than an innocent bystander. Why give him any more reason to suspect that something out of the ordinary had happened?

It was a tired but excited crowd of children who climbed back onto the coach that had brought them here, just five hours before. Wearily, Alex went with them, not knowing what else to do, too tired to think of an alternative. There was a hush in the coach, everyone aware of the empty seat, worried about their fellow student who had been whisked off to hospital. Alex gazed out of the coach windows, watching as cars sped past, their headlights glowing in the twilight. He knew that with a little effort he could reach out, sensing the thoughts of the drivers and learning the errands which sent them racing through the night. He knew that for the first time in his life he was free, able to explore the world he had been created to protect. And yet more than anything, he longed for the metal walls of Luna, he longed for the mental touch of his brothers and sisters, their mere presence such a vital part of his life. He wanted to go home.

By the time the coach drew up in front of the school he was fast asleep, lulled by the engine's vibrations, so like those of Luna. The cessation of those vibrations woke him with a moment of panic. He stumbled out of the coach, looking around blearily, wondering what to do next, and almost missed the familiar face in the waiting crowd of parents. Kershia caught him in a tight embrace, slipping a new matter transporter onto his belt with a casual gesture. Startled and embarrassed despite everything, Alex resisted her hug, glancing around at his new-found friends. They were scattering already, hustled into cars by busy parents. Relief washing through him, Alex quickly hugged his long-time guardian back before letting her pull away to look him up and down anxiously.

"You're not hurt?" she demanded, with her arms still loosely around his neck. Her brown eyes were deep pools of relieved tears. "We didn't know where you were," she whispered to him, her voice trembling. "Thomas and the others couldn't even feel you and we couldn't jaunt in. We couldn't risk them hurting you if we came." She frowned, her face suddenly stern. "And then you sent the other boy back in your place! Have you any idea what a security risk he might be?"

Alex didn't answer, shaken by the unexpected scolding and too tired now even to put his thoughts into words. Instead he pressed the data stick into her hands, closing them around it as the matter transporter activated, whisking them both to the safety of distant Luna.

**********

"Do you have any idea what a risk you took, young man?" Jimmy demanded, as he prowled around the link table where Alex sat. Alex nodded dutifully, letting Jimmy go on. "Not only with your own life, but with everyone's lives?"

"Not to mention the distress you caused your siblings," Kershia added angrily. "Thomas was ready to jaunt down to Earth to find you!"

"I'm sorry," Alex said simply for what seemed like the tenth time since he had woken that morning. It was strange how the welcome he had received the night before had changed into this series of recriminations as TIM raised the dawn lights. His report of the previous day's expedition had been met with a barrage of angry questions. Already Alex had realised that nothing he said was going to break through to Jimmy and Kershia, so he kept quiet, letting them work themselves out. Nonetheless, he couldn't help feeling a little hurt. What had he hoped for? That the Tomorrow People would set aside what he was and what his brother had done to them, just because of his actions yesterday? Perhaps he shouldn't have hoped for acceptance. He should have known better.

From the door to her office Abigail watched, with Nova by her side. Alex sensed a mild amusement in both their thoughts and blinked, struggling to reinforce his mental defences. His special abilities seemed to have deepened and strengthened since his return from AMRE. Just at the moment, he didn't even dare to speculate as to why. Abby's mental touch was understanding as her mind contacted his.

(Just look suitably impressed, Alex,) she advised. (They'll calm down in another few minutes. You frightened them - even Jimmy, although he won't admit it.) She paused. (You do understand how serious your capture would have been? Or what might have happened to Luna if you were wrong about Gerry?)

(Of course!) Alex snapped.

(But he wasn't wrong,) Nova reminded her, letting them see his admiration for the boy's courage.

"Are you even listening to me?" Kershia demanded irritably, dragging Alex's attention back to her. She threw up her hands in disgust. "You realise that we won't be able to send Gerald home? It's too dangerous both for him and for us."

"What would you have had him do, Kershia?" Abby asked matter-of-factly, uncrossing her arms and stepping fully into the control room. "Let the boy end up in a camp?" She glanced up at TIM. "The computer connection Alexander set up is functioning well, isn't it, TIM?"

TIM's hemispheres pulsed with vibrant white light, patterns of colour swirling across them. "Indeed, Abigail. I have downloaded most of the key files from the AMRE database. I am beginning my analysis of the data now. "

"It seems that Alex did do what you sent him to do," Nova noted, his voice quiet but firm. "And he might have saved the life of a Tomorrow Person at the same time."

There was a long moment of silence as Kershia and Jimmy exchanged resigned looks. Jimmy shrugged and Alex sighed, expecting the order to return to Luna's top level. It was a shock when Kershia slid into the seat beside him, throwing one arm around his shoulders and squeezing in a quick half-hug. From where he stood on the other side of the link table, Jimmy gave him a lopsided smile and a slight bow. Alex blinked, feeling the warmth and acceptance from the Tomorrow People around him.

"You did well, Alex," Kershia told him softly. "And we're proud of you."

**********

THE SUNDAY TIMES, UK - 30th May 2022
'FIRE DESTROYS BASE AT CENTRE OF MALLONEY ALLEGATIONS'

A large part of the Anbridge Military Research Establishment (AMRE) has been destroyed by fire just three days after hosting an open day for over three hundred teenage children. The fire is believed to have started in a disused office and swept through the research wing of the establishment before being brought under control. MPs and teachers' leaders have called for an investigation into why the computer-controlled fire suppression systems failed to operate, particularly in light of the recent open day, and the flammable nature of the solvents stored in the building.

The fire is merely the latest in a string of misfortunes plaguing the AMRE centre. The top-secret research establishment has been at the centre of controversy in recent days following the so-called 'Malloney Allegations,' first made more than two weeks ago. On Thursday an open day held, in part, to assuage that controversy, ended in confusion and recriminations after the disappearance of one of the participating children, Gerald Harper, 14, still missing from his family home.

Ms. Malloney's legal team are now expected to press for an out-of-court settlement in her unfair dismissal case. The fire is likely to have destroyed all samples of genetic research material that might have been called as evidence at a formal hearing.

The future of the Anbridge establishment is now in question and the research carried out at the base is believed to have suffered a major, if not irrevocable, setback.

******

The End