Part 0

Synopsis: Realising that they alone are responsible for the future of their people, the new TP leaders start their fight back against the Sap threat.

WARNING: This story is rated PG-13 for containing scenes depicting attempted rape and some violence. The scenes are neither graphic nor gratuitous and occur towards the end of the story. There are also a few minor swear words.

Thanks to Anyta for beta reading this story. Your helpful input was much appreciated.

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

This is the tenth 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

Background information: it is early 2021, the day after Abandoned. Many TPs lead an overcrowded existence as refugees on Luna. More still endure life in one of the Sap enforcement camps, their minds suffering the scourge of Barlumin poisoning. Meanwhile the Galactic Federation holds its inquiry into the very future of the planet Earth.

Disclaimer:
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.

E-mail Address(es):
tiylaya@yahoo.com
Jackie@the-tomorrow-people.co.uk

The Heist!

10: 00 pm GMT. Eight hours before the raid.

Immersed in his task, the young man stretched out his awareness until he could sense the very essence of the objects in the room. He stood with eyes closed in the lee of the small wooden hut, ignoring the gentle rain that soaked into his hair and clothing. With his consciousness stretching to its very limits, only a fragment of self remained within his body. As the seconds ticked by, all physical sensation drifted away, until the warm musty atmosphere inside the hut was more tangible than the cold dampness of the night air outside.

An onlooker would have laughed at the expression of utter concentration fixed upon his boyish face. But unless they too understood the nature of a TP's talents, they would hardly comprehend his behaviour. This was perceiving without seeing, feeling without touching, reality without physicality - enticing him forward until he lost himself in the addictive sensuality of the moment.

Adjacent to his position behind the wall was a filing cabinet, the smooth coldness of steel fascinating him momentarily as he brushed its surface with his mind. A few feet beyond that was the curved mass of oak that formed the desk. It felt heavy and welcoming to his outstretched senses. As he skimmed the top of the desk he became aware of something new and gasped as he absorbed the nature of the object. Lying open-paged on the warm leatherette surface was a copy of 'The Sun' newspaper, complete with semi-naked starlet smiling out from its sleazy pages. With an effort, he pulled his mind away and reached beyond the paper to feel the thick-soled boots of a sleeping security guard. With legs raised on top of the desk, the guard was leaning back precariously in his chair, head drooping, his arms folded across his chest.

Rejecting the temptation to cause the guard to fall by using a carefully placed telekinetic nudge, he chastised himself. This mission was far too important to be spoiled by childlike and irresponsible notions. At all costs he must not alert security to his presence and that of the other TPs.

Dragging his awareness further into the small room, he passed the computer, telephone and other office paraphernalia that sat idly in the corner, and at last located his goal. Halfway up the far wall was a square pegboard upon which were mounted a dozen small metal hooks, and above each was a plaque containing a seven-character code. Searching through the various combinations, he finally located what he was looking for and breathed a mental sigh of relief.

Now he had found his prize, a tingle of excitement passed through the energy that cloaked the room's contents. Fearful of waking the sleeping guard, he immediately stifled the sensation and intensified his efforts. Gently the ignition key rose into the air, hovering momentarily as the accompanying key fob lifted and unhooked itself from the metal peg. Slowly, as if guided by invisible fingers, the neighbouring keys also lifted from their resting places and followed one another in a silent procession towards the door.

With his brow deeply furrowed and his mouth twitching anxiously at the corners, he motioned in the air with his right hand, as if conducting an invisible orchestra in some silent symphony. The keys suddenly halted in their progress and the door quietly opened.

He knew he was stretching his mental abilities to their very limits and found himself wishing he had listened to Paul's insistent urging that he practice his skills more often. All I have to do is maintain concentration for a little longer, he thought, as the keys emerged into the damp night air and floated around the security hut towards where he stood, hidden in the shadows at the rear of the building. Refusing any outside distraction from his errand, he kept his eyes tightly shut, concentrating his entire mind's eye upon the task at hand. With a flick of his stubby fingers the three key fobs passed the corner of the hut and picked up speed. His own excitement was mounting now as the keys flew straight towards his outstretched hand.

"What have we here then?"

The voice stabbed at his consciousness like a knife, tearing at the fabric of his outstretched awareness and forcing his mind back into his skull with a jolt. The intruder couldn't have halted his plan with any more certainty than if he had hit him with a blunt instrument. Once the telekinetic energy began to dissipate, the keys' fate was assured. They wavered momentarily in mid-flight, then plummeted towards the ground.

Suddenly alert, Ben opened his eyes with a start, just in time to see his father catch the three key rings as they fell. "Well, well, well... and what would you be doing here in my yard after all these years, and stealing the ignition keys to three of my best trucks to boot!"

******

The security guard hurried from the hut, relieved that, despite being caught sleeping on the job, he had not been sacked. At first, when Mr. Smith marched noisily into the security hut, dragging his son by the arm, the guard had thought the shocked look of indignation on his boss' face was directed at him. Then, noticing the atmosphere between Mr Smith and his son as they stood facing one another across the desk, he dismissed this idea. Mumbling about taking the dog for a walk around the yard, he left the room as quickly as he could.

These two had not seen one another for over five years, and he had heard some scary gossip, regarding Ben's sudden disappearance, being passed around the day shift of the haulage company. There had been rumours growing for years that Ben was one of those anarchist-terrorists the Government kept warning them about. It was only last week, when he met Frank down the local pub, that they talked about the lad who'd grown up playing in or around the depot. They both agreed that he'd been a nice kid. That was, until he became a teenager. Most parents expected difficulties with their children, but this lad had become surly, withdrawn and argumentative almost overnight. Then one day he upped and disappeared, leaving his dad all alone. And now, five years later, he had the cheek to turn up unannounced in the middle of the night! And was caught stealing from his own father! Well, it just goes to show you can't trust anyone these days, the guard thought, pulling up the collar of his jacket and hurrying across the yard.

Harry Smith stared at his only son. Five years was a long time and, despite his anger, he also longed to reach out and give the lad a hug. But he's not a lad any more, he mused, he's grown into a fine young man. Mulling over how to handle this meeting, Harry decided that it would do little good to reopen old wounds. Smiling at Ben, he took the seat that the guard had just vacated and motioned for his son to also sit down.

"Sorry, Dad," said Ben quietly. "I don't have time for that. I know that I owe you an explanation, but I'm on an urgent mission and can't hang about."

Harry felt his anger rising. "Urgent mission!" he exclaimed, unable to curb the disapproval in his tone. "You come waltzing in here after all these years away, God knows where, and announce you're on a mission!" Mr Smith jangled the three key fobs in his hand, then opened it palm upward as if presenting the keys to his son. "Have these got anything to do with this mission of yours?"

Ben nodded and took a tentative step forward, his face betraying his deep longing to heal the rift that had grown between him and his father. "Okay," he said after a pause. "I'll try to tell you a little." Ben thought for a moment. How could he possibly explain all that had happened to him since his breakout? His father was a good man, and Ben knew in his heart that he would never wish harm to his son, but life for the family of any Tomorrow Person had become almost as dangerous as it was for the TP themselves. "I'm sorry I had to go in such a hurry. I know that you'd tried to keep things together after Mum's death and were hoping for me to help out at the yard once I was old enough, but for me to stick around here was too dangerous for both of us."

Harry Smith nodded in agreement. "They came here, you know. Those people that you warned me about. It was the day after you left. I didn't believe you at first, but when they started snooping around the business, asking my men questions about whether they'd ever seen you do strange things..." His voice trailed off as a shudder ran up his spine. He knew what his son was capable of. Ben had demonstrated most of his TP talents in the weeks immediately following his breakout, but since then the papers had been full of tales about the evil deeds of the Tomorrow People. Harry never believed for one minute that his son was capable of all the things the Government claimed, but why were they making such a fuss about the TPs if they were as harmless as they appeared? Realising that Ben was waiting for him to continue, he gave a weak smile. "Strange things indeed," he chuckled to relieve the growing tension in the room. "You know me, Ben. I don't take kindly to anyone snooping about in my family affairs. I threw them men in black coats out of my yard. I told them that you'd gone off hiking in the Himalayas." Noticing the look of disbelief on Ben's face, Harry chuckled once again. "They didn't believe me for an instant, but it got them off my back and after a few more months their surveillance teams even gave up following me about." He paused and looked into his son's eyes. "Can you tell me where you've been all this time?"

Ben shook his head dejectedly. "Sorry, Dad. I can't breach security. But I'm amongst good and loyal friends and I am happy." He sighed. "For the most part."

Pulling himself up in the chair, Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Well, son. That's good enough for me. Now, would you mind telling me what this mission is all about and why you need three of my largest trucks?"

"Sorry, Dad," Ben repeated. "I can't tell you that either. But it is a matter of life and death. We'll only borrow them for a few days, that's all. If all goes well, I can drive them back to the depot - well, me and a few friends - tomorrow evening. We came to you because we can trust you not to ask too many questions, and not to call the police. Please, Dad, we're running out of time just standing here. Let me borrow the trucks for forty-eight hours. I promise that when this is all over I'll stay for a while longer and tell you some more about my new life."

Harry Smith rubbed his stubbly chin as he thought about his son's proposition. "I'd love to help you out, son, but those trucks are already loaded for a run up to Birmingham tomorrow. There's three million quid's worth of computer stuff in them and I just can't afford to let you take it like that. What about taking six of my smaller trucks?"

Ben sighed. "We need them, Dad. We need the biggest ones you've got. And we need them now!"

The conversation went back and forth for a few more minutes. Each time Mr. Smith made a suggestion, Ben had a counter-argument. He couldn't risk compromising their mission by telling his father any more than Jimmy had sanctioned, but also knew that his father could easily go bankrupt if he failed to make the delivery of computer supplies on time. "Can't you tell the police they were nicked?" he suggested in desperation. "That way you can claim on the insurance."

"I could..." Harry paused momentarily. "If I could afford insurance. But that's not the issue. You said I mustn't involve the police."

"I know I did, but you could always delay... give us enough time to do what we've planned, then report it."

"And just how do you expect me to explain what's going on to the night shift? Bill saw you. He knows you tried to steal them. He'll tell the police all about it and that'll just make the situation worse."

Ben's frantic mental deliberations were suddenly interrupted by a sharp thought from Jimmy. (What the hell are you doing in there? I gave you three minutes to get the keys and get out. Steph and the others can't hide in the yard all night, you know.)

Harry noticed the faraway look in his son's eyes that always heralded the onset of a telepathic conversation. Even though they had not seen one another for five years, that look still stirred poignant memories for him. It was just after Ben started to hear the voices in his head that he had been taken away from his family and home. Not physically taken away, at first, but somehow the rift between them had begun the day his emergent powers manifested themselves. If only Sylvia had been alive, he mused. She'd have known how to handle the boy. But that was just wishful thinking. The cancer had taken her six months previously and despite Harry's best efforts to be a good father, the lure of those distant voices had been too strong for Ben to ignore.

There was a sudden ringing noise and a strange man appeared beside Ben. This intruder was older and taller than his son and had an attitude about him that Harry instantly disliked.

Ben looked up and frowned. "Jimmy, this is my Dad."

Jimmy looked angry enough to explode. (What on earth were you thinking of - we don't have time for a cosy family reunion, you know.)

"I... I was just asking Dad to give us the tru..." Ben stuttered, intimidated by Jimmy's powerful stare.

Jimmy noticed the look of distress pass across Ben's features, but dismissed it. They were the primary TP security force and Ben better shape up to the responsibilities that the role involved, or he'd be out on his ear. Keeping all this to himself, Jimmy decided to take the initiative away from his friend. "I'm sorry about this, Mr. Smith," he said, pulling his stun gun from its holster.

"No, you can't!" exclaimed Ben, but it was already too late. The gun spat a stream of electrons towards the man behind the desk and he froze open mouthed, the key fobs still dangling from his outstretched hand.

Jimmy leaned forward in silence and removed the three key rings. (That's better,) he 'pathed to an astonished Ben. (Now can we get on with what we came here to do?) In the next instant he jaunted, leaving a stunned Ben alone in the room, staring at the corpse-like figure of his father.

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

They stood huddled together in the narrow passageway between the parked trucks, each trying to shelter as best they could from the persistent rain.

"Okay, people," whispered Jimmy. "A slight change of plan." He glanced irritably across at Ben and his gaze was met by a stern and embittered frown. "I guess we've got half an hour at most before the police are on our tail. A convoy will look too conspicuous, so I suggest we split up and find our own way to the rendezvous point. Do you each have your maps?"

One by one the designated drivers held up a laminated map of the local motorway network.

"He wouldn't have called them, you know," said Ben out of the blue, his remark obviously directed toward Jimmy rather than anyone else.

They all turned to look at Ben, but it was Stephanie who spoke first. "Who wouldn't have called whom?"

"My Dad." Ben glanced back across the rain-drenched yard. "He's on our side, at least he was up 'till now. But Jimmy had to..." Ben's voice faltered and the others felt a wave of telepathic anguish spread from their friend, forcing them to raise their mental shields in self-defence.

Her anger rising, Stephanie focused her telepathy into a narrow channel directed towards Jimmy's mind. (What did you do to the boy?) she asked accusingly. (We need everyone working at maximum efficiency here, remember?)

Jimmy looked up angrily. (I didn't do anything to him. He was taking far too long just to get a couple of keys, so I jaunted into the security hut. I found him chatting with his old man. This is hardly the right time for a family reunion, so I did the most logical thing. I stunned Mr. Smith, grabbed the keys and...)

(You stunned Ben's father!) Stephanie was incredulous. (Right in front of him? Have you gone completely mad?)

By now the rest of the group had noticed the angry looks passing between the two senior team members and realised that a private telepathic argument was under way. Glancing anxiously from Jimmy to Stephanie and back again, it was Roger who eventually broke into their private squabble. "If you two would stop it for just a minute!" he barked. "Whatever Jimmy did, he probably had good reason. We can debate the rights or wrongs of it later, when we're away from here."

"Roger's right," added Cole. "Let's get moving and debate it once we meet at the rendezvous."

"I'm not going to the rendezvous." This remark came from Ben. "If Jimmy hadn't been so trigger-happy with his stun gun, I would've explained that these trucks are already fully loaded. We'll have to empty the cargo before we can use them."

The team looked across at their leader, waiting for his response to this new information, but all Jimmy could do was shrug in apology. "Okay," he mumbled after a pause. "I was probably too hasty, but this doesn't change anything. If we recalculate the matter-weight ratio of the transporters, we can take it all with us and dump it later on." There was a murmur of agreement from the others.

"The cargo in those trucks is valued at over three million quid," Ben informed them authoritatively. Josh gave a gentle whistle as he contemplated the huge sums involved, eliciting an irritated scowl from Ben before he continued. "My Dad'll go bankrupt if he doesn't make the delivery. I know how important this mission is, but I'm not gonna be party to sending my own father's company down the drain."

Jimmy opened his mouth and began to reply, but his sarcasm was stifled by another sharp telepathic dig from Stephanie. (Don't you think you've caused him enough trouble for one day? It won't take more than thirty minutes for us to unload the trucks. Not if we all work together. What difference will half an hour make to the overall plan?)

(I suppose you're right, Stephanie,) he capitulated.

She switched back to speech. "Okay, if we're going to save Smith's Hauliers from financial ruin, then we're gonna need a place where we can unload in secret. Any suggestions?"

Josh had remained quiet until now, choosing instead to watch with childlike fascination as the British security team bickered amongst themselves. "Why secret?" he commented unexpectedly. "If Ben's Dad isn't going to call the cops on us, all we have to do is leave the gear somewhere safe, then call him up and tell him where to find it."

"That's a good idea, Josh," remarked Stephanie, smirking at his boyish enthusiasm. "But that doesn't change the fact that we're stealing three trucks and even if Ben's Dad isn't the one to call the police, someone else around here will."

"You're damn right I will."

They spun around to see Bill the security guard standing behind them, struggling to control a slavering Alsatian that pulled excitedly on its leash. "I don't know what you folks are up to, and frankly I don't care. Ben may be the boss' son, but I'm not gonna let anyone get away with robbery on my shift." He let go of the sodden leather grip, allowing the leash to slip from his hands as the dog bounded forward towards the startled group of TPs.

Cole, who was closest to the advancing animal, recoiled in horror, stepping on Josh's foot as he stumbled backwards. Stephanie let out a yelp of surprise and also backed up the narrow passageway in some attempt to retreat from the rapidly approaching beast. It was Ben who stood firm, staring intently into the animal's eyes as it leapt towards its target. The dog was only a metre away when it suddenly yelped in response to Ben's psionic suggestion and recoiled in fright, its paws slipping uncontrollably on the wet tarmac as it tried to halt its forward momentum. One final nod from Ben and the dog turned around, then rushed back up the passageway between the parked vehicles.

Noticing how easily the intruders incapacitated his dog, Bill looked about him wretchedly. Assessing the situation, he knew that this youthful gang of would-be thieves outnumbered him and decided that retreat was the best course of action. He sprang into life, running as fast as his stubby legs would carry him around the nearest truck, and disappearing from sight.

"After him!" ordered Jimmy. "Don't let him get to a phone."

Cole immediately sprinted after the man.

Reaching out, Jimmy caught hold of Ben's sleeve just before he too could launch himself after the security guard. "Ben, no," he said with some urgency. "We need you to deal with the alarm. You do remember our original plan, don't you? You're the only one here who knows enough detail to override the security system."

Ben nodded resignedly. "Of course I do. You, Steph and Roger better start the trucks and head for the exit. I'll jaunt into the cab after you've cleared the gates."

Jimmy gave his friend a sympathetic look. "That's better - now we're working as a team." He switched to telepathy. (I'm sorry about your Dad. I was only...)

Ben gave his friend a half-hearted smile, all past anger dissipating in their mental link. (I understand. Can I suggest that if we're going to unload this stuff somewhere before daybreak, we'd better get a move on?)

******

11. 00 pm GMT. Seven hours before the raid.

The truck bounced off the kerb as Stephanie struggled to control the massive vehicle. "Hey!" complained Josh from the seat beside her. "I nearly hit my head that time."

She glared at her companion irritably. "Do you think you can do any better? It is raining, you know."

(Take the next left!)

(Right.)

"No, not right," explained Josh. "Jimmy said left." (Right?)

(Right! Left!)

(Left will take us to the M1,) came Cole's response, from the lead truck of the TP convoy.

The three vehicles thundered at speed down the dual carriageway of the A43, throwing up a cloud of spray in their wake, each driver fighting to retain control in these dangerous road conditions.

"Does Jimmy have any idea where we're going?" asked Ben, who, as a passenger in the truck driven by Roger, was having similar problems to Josh remaining in his seat.

"I guess Jimmy's having as much trouble as..." began Roger.

With the night gloom, the driving rain and the thick spray, Jimmy was struggling to see where they were headed, but was determined not to slow the pace of their getaway. Spotting the turn at the last minute, he threw his full weight onto the steering wheel and the lorry slid around the bend. (Whoaaah!) "That was close!" he shouted, glancing at Cole apologetically.

Roger guided his own vehicle through the tight bend before continuing. "... the rest of us, navigating in this weather," he concluded. (That sign we just passed said Junction 15. Is that right?) "And at these sorts of... (Watch out for the turn, Steph!)

(I see it!)

"... ridiculous speeds."

(No... I mean, yes. It's straight ahead,) replied Jimmy, tongue-tied by his own levels of concentration. (But this is the right road. Head north towards Rothersham services.) He pressed his foot harder on the truck's accelerator and pulled ahead of the others.

"Rothersham!" repeated Stephanie aloud. (Great idea. We can unload the cargo at the back of the lorry park.) She also skidded her vehicle around the turn and onto the motorway slip road.

(... and it's only fifteen miles from Northhampton.) Ben completed the sentence for her. (Dad'll be able to send out some other drivers to pick it up.)

"That is if we ever get there!" grumbled Jimmy, glancing in the rear-view mirror and noticing Stephanie's vehicle falling behind. "Can't she drive any faster?"

Cole also looked at the reflection of the two trucks behind them. "She's female - what do you expect? You should have let me drive."

(But you don't have an HGV licence!)

"Wha...!" gasped Cole, glancing momentarily across at his companion. "How did she know?"

(Some of us need to practice their personal shielding,) came Stephanie's curt retort. Her telepathy was suddenly cut short. "Bloody Hell!" she exclaimed.

Stephanie jerked the steering wheel and the truck lurched to the side, as a sports car nosed out from behind her and accelerated past. "Where did that car come from?" Peering out of the windscreen, she grimaced as she struggled to make out the car's features through the thick spray and glare of reflected headlights. "Does he have a death wish or something? I'm doing seventy already!" (Watch out, boys, there's some idiot in a soft top speeding up the inside lane. I almost didn't see him.)

(We know,) 'pathed Roger, his thoughts ringing with suppressed laughter. (We heard you swear.) He glanced across at Ben. (Some people around here need to raise their shields higher when they curse like that.)

(Touché,) remarked Jimmy, smiling.

(Male chauvinist pigs, the lot of you!) came Stephanie's sarcastic reply.

For the next few miles the group remained quiet, their minds wryly amused by uncontrolled and somewhat childlike laughter, broadcast in a soft Canadian twang by the youngest of their team.

At last their collective consciousness was pulled together by Jimmy's authoritative transmissions. (All right, people, we're here. Pull up in the shadows and let's get to it!)

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

Parked close to one another beneath the shelter of an overhanging tree, the TPs looked about them nervously before venturing into the damp night air. As they disembarked from the trucks, Jimmy pulled out a bulky rucksack that he had stuffed behind his seat, and signalled for them to follow him into the light of the nearest lamppost. Careful to avoid any puddles, Jimmy placed the bag down on the tarmac and they all peered at the contents. Inside the bag were twelve ovoid matter transporters, each powerful enough to pull three tons in weight through the churning eddies of hyperspace.

"These," he announced, removing the first of the devices and turning it over in his hands, "were used by Mike's team to help in the construction of Luna." The assembled group mumbled softly to themselves. "If TIM has calculated correctly, four devices attached to the chassis of each truck at fixed intervals will be enough to transport them to the rendezvous point. Once they're all in place, I need to calibrate the transporter matrix to synchronise dematerialisation. But what we need to do first is place the devices around the trucks." He looked up and presented the device to Cole. "That'll be yours and Roger's job."

"What about the rest of us?" Ben asked impatiently.

Jimmy stared in earnest at the younger man. "You, Steph and Josh had better take a truck each and begin unloading straight away. If the computer gear isn't cleared in twenty minutes, then I'm calling it a day and we go with whatever's left, dumping it in hyperspace if we have to."

"We can't just leave the stuff here, in this downpour," complained Stephanie, glancing around her at the cascade of rain droplets illuminated by the eerie orange glow of the streetlight. "The stuff'll be ruined."

Jimmy looked up into the thick blanket of cloud cover. She was right. This rain didn't look like it would ease any time soon. Making a quick decision, Jimmy opened up his mind. (TIM,) he 'pathed, the suddenness of his telepathic voice making them all jump. (TIM, I need your assistance.)

(Jimmy!) came TIM's anxious reply. (Is there something wrong? I thought we decided upon complete telepathic silence during this mission.)

(Yes, we did, but there has been a change in plan and I've taken the risk, deciding to break protocol. TIM, I need you to send me some items immediately. Don't ask any further questions, just get them here fast.)

TIM's trained biotronic mind was immediately responsive to their needs (Of course, Jimmy, what do you require?)

(A mobile phone, three large waterproof tarpaulins and three lengths of rope.) They all felt the tingle of psionic energy and looked at their feet as the requested items appeared. (Thanks, TIM. Breaking off contact now.) With a flick of his eyes, Jimmy broke the telepathic link.

For a few seconds no one moved: no one really knew what to do or say. Then, slowly, Jimmy bent forward, picked up the telephone and tossed it towards Ben. "Here," he said, smirking slightly at the irony of the situation. "He's your old man, and after what I did to him I doubt he's gonna want to speak to me."

Assessing the impact of Jimmy's words, Ben swung around and immediately started dialling the number for his father's company.

With a collective sigh, they all relaxed. Roger nodded towards Cole and he snatched up the rucksack before they both headed off to place the first of the matter transporters. Josh also wandered back towards the nearest truck and started to unfasten the rear doors.

This left Stephanie staring at Jimmy, a grin spreading slowly across her face. "You're an old softie at heart, aren't you?" she remarked, before trotting across to help Josh in his efforts.

With a deep sigh, Jimmy rubbed his neck. His stress levels had been rising since the moment this plan had been conceived and he still wasn't certain that it was such a good idea. But the decision had been made by a vote, and once agreed upon, he knew as well as the others that there was no going back. Watching Stephanie work alongside the young Canadian reminded Jimmy of those first few days working together to thwart Operation Malthus.

When Stephen pulled this ragbag of a team together it had been as much out of desperation as because they held any special talents as security personnel. Those days felt like a lifetime ago now. So much had changed, especially in the past twenty-four hours. He had never sought to become head of security. But somehow, now that the role was thrust upon him, he knew that he was the right man for the job. Stephanie was great; she was the conscience of their team, but there were times when difficult, almost ruthless, decisions had to be made and she just wasn't tough enough to make them.

Tough decisions were nothing new to Jimmy, though. He had spent so much of his life hiding from himself that being somewhat ruthless soon became second nature. His breakout had been one of the most difficult and traumatic situations he had ever faced, but face it he did, and alone! It all started when he was just nine years old. His mother's youngest brother, Uncle Patrick, had come for a weekend visit. Uncle Patrick was Jimmy's favourite relative. He always brought a new computer game or piece of football kit as a present, and they would sit up late into the evening playing endless rounds of the game until Jimmy's father complained about the noise and dispatched them both to bed. But on this particular visit Uncle Patrick arrived empty-handed, and not only did he ignore his nephew, he quickly upset Jimmy's mother too. His surly, brutish attitude was totally out of character and was remarked upon at length once Patrick had returned home. The next visit, six months later, was no better and culminated in Patrick being asked to leave by a very angry Mr. Harrison. There were no visits for a long time after that, but Jimmy often heard his parents discussing how his favourite uncle had lost his job or been in trouble with the police. He knew he shouldn't have done it but, eavesdropping one day, he overheard them saying that Patrick had started hearing voices and was now seeing a psychiatrist on a regular basis.

Hearing voices didn't sound too bad to Jimmy. He'd read all sorts of children's stories where goblins and elves communicated with humans in magical ways. So when one day he returned from school to find Patrick waiting outside the house, he thought nothing of it and invited this familiar relative inside for a cup of tea. It was as they sat together around the kitchen table that Uncle Patrick really started to act crazy. Of course Jimmy now realised that Patrick was demonstrating the classic signs of paranoid schizophrenia. But as a young boy, hearing his favourite adult bewailing how the voices were controlling his every move, Jimmy was scared to death.

By the time his parents arrived home from work, Patrick had torn up the house, smashing the windows, tearing at the bed linen and sweeping the contents of the overcrowded bookshelves onto the floor in one huge tangled mess. All the while he had dragged a terrified Jimmy from room to room with him, forcing him to search for hidden microphones that the voices persistently claimed were there. When the police arrived to carry Patrick away, kicking, biting and screaming at the officers, Jimmy was near hysterical. He had to be sedated by their GP for almost a week after the incident.

It took a while for their lives to settle down once again, and sensing how upsetting she found it, Jimmy soon stopped asking his mother about Uncle Patrick's condition in the local mental hospital.

But that was not the end of it. Four months later Jimmy himself heard the first of his own voices. It happened while he was walking home from school, daydreaming absent-mindedly about Middle Earth. Suddenly an unknown girl's words were right there inside his head, almost as if he'd thought them himself. He ran home, crying all the way. By the time he approached the house, he'd decided that to reveal such things would be too difficult for his mother to cope with. Determined to keep the incident a secret, he was saddened when a few weeks later it happened once again. This time the voice was accompanied by an excruciating, stabbing pain in his temples, causing him to almost faint. With resolve outweighing his years, Jimmy knew that if anyone ever found out about these voices he'd soon be joining Uncle Patrick in the local mental hospital. So, without even knowing it, he rapidly learned to shield his mind, withdrawing from people every time the voices returned, until the day he could control them. The pain eventually subsided too and he continued to live for years in ignorance of what had actually happened to him.

The next five years of his life were the most lonely he had ever faced. Shutting such a fundamental part of himself away so completely also meant that he denied other aspects of his personality: his compassion and empathy were the first to go, followed by his happy-go-lucky playfulness. And throughout it all he kept the TP side of his nature locked up tight, living in constant fear that he had inherited his uncle's mental condition. Sometimes, when he passed strangers in the street, he would feel a tingle of something almost electrical at the edges of his consciousness, but with practice this was also banished into the unknown depths of his psyche.

That was until his sixteenth birthday. Denying himself any friends at school, in fear that they might realise his secret, Jimmy had thrown himself into his academic work. The upshot of this was his passing his GCSE exams with ten straight 'A' grades. Proudly his parents dragged him into a local travel agency, announcing that he could choose their summer holiday to anywhere in the world, no matter what the cost, as his reward. As he browsed around the shelves stacked with their brightly coloured brochures, each depicting a happy family frolicking in the gentle blue waves of some tropical beach, his concentration began to wander.

He had noticed the pretty young woman when they entered the shop, her curly shoulder length hair framing her gentle features in a way that he found very attractive. While his back was turned this woman approached quite close and laid a hand gently on his arm.

Her touch was electric. Tendrils of energy shot up his arm and across his shoulders, causing him to recoil in horror.

(Hello,) she 'pathed, smiling. (My name's Elena. You're new around here, aren't you? Where are you from?)

This was almost more than Jimmy could bear. To have this eye-catching woman's thoughts ringing inside his head and be powerless to stop them... Well, when he looked back on the situation now, his face must have been a picture. Elena was the most empathic TP he'd ever encountered and in the next instant she forged the final connections in his brain that he had denied himself all those years. Wave after wave of sympathy, understanding and love swept through his mind like a breath of fresh air.

She later commented on how lucky he had been to survive breakout at such a young age. To Jimmy this didn't matter; the knowledge that he was in fact sane made him feel as if he'd been granted nothing less than a miracle. Within a few weeks he had left home and ensconced himself into a new life at the London Lab. A life he had been waiting for, for as long as he could remember...

And now he was here, leading this team of TP agents on a dangerous mission that they all hoped would turn the tide of tyranny forced upon them by the Saps. But sadly Elena, Paul, Stephen and the others were no longer around to guide him as they had always done.

As he thought of the senior TPs, Jimmy sighed heavily once again. What on earth would the Tomorrow People do if the seniors never came back? If the Federation passed sentence on his kind and enfolded them in an area of space from which none of them could ever escape? The utter hopelessness that he felt washed across his mind as he contemplated life at the hands of the Saps, with nowhere to run to and no way to fight back!

Deep in his reverie, he hadn't noticed Josh cross the car park and come to stand beside him. "It's all going to work out, I'm sure of it," remarked the young man sincerely.

Jimmy looked up in surprise. He was certain that his personal thoughts had been well protected from prying minds. "What?" he mumbled.

Noticing the shock in Jimmy's eyes, Josh grinned. "Don't worry, you were shielding well enough. I just made a lucky guess."

"Oh," Jimmy replied, not too certain whether to believe this Canadian newcomer to his team. "And what gives you the confidence to know that everything's gonna be okay?"

"Because I've been there myself. I lived through the darkest days that the people of Canada have ever seen. When we escaped onto the streets of Toronto with a group of really young kids, we had no idea what to do next. But somehow we knew that there's strength of character to every TP. Perhaps it's because we've been persecuted in all aspects of our lives. I like to think it's because we know deep down that we're right. This planet, nature itself even, needs us and has provided us with the intellect and guile to take over. We've also been blessed with the best leaders we could possibly wish for. I saw Abby go to hell and back that day, after she destroyed her own Lab. I also saw the courage and determination that all TPs have when pushed to their limits. And I'm confident that similar depths are inside every one of us, even if we don't realise it yet."

Jimmy looked wide-eyed at this man. It seemed that Josh had grown up both physically and mentally somewhere in the middle of that last sentence. Or perhaps, thought Jimmy, he's always been this mature and responsible an adult - I just didn't want to see it before.

Peering past Josh, Jimmy noticed that Ben had now joined Stephanie at the rear of the closest truck. With eyes closed and their faces fixed with a frown of concentration, they stood balancing precariously on the tailgate as the boxes flew past them under telekinetic control and stacked themselves neatly beneath one of the tarpaulins. "You better get a move on," he remarked, nodding in Stephanie's direction and watching as Josh followed his gaze. "I only gave you twenty minutes and we've wasted five of that stood here already."

Obediently, Josh walked away and hopped onto the tailgate of a second truck, its contents already emerging into the cold, persistent rain.

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

Midnight: six hours before the raid.

Walking around the mound of computer equipment, Stephanie checked the ropes were tightly knotted before looking about her. The rain had almost stopped now and she was relieved that, despite the bad weather and Ben's encounter with his father back at the yard, they were still keeping to the prearranged schedule. She watched as Roger and Cole clambered across the roof of the nearest truck, their theatrical gymnastics making the rest of the team smile. It was good to see everyone working so well together. Commandeering these trucks was the first stage of a much bigger and more dangerous plan. This light frivolity was just the lull before the storm, and everyone knew it!

Gazing reflectively across at her team-mates, Stephanie was reminded of her childhood home in a small vicarage in Cornwall. Shared as it was with three older brothers, antics such as those Cole and Roger were now engaged in were quite familiar to her. Although she had experienced a relatively sheltered academic upbringing - leading her to an almost inevitable interest in art, history and literature, and the logical progression from private boarding school to Cambridge University - being the youngest of the four children had encouraged her to develop another more unexpected interest. With three boys in the household, Stephanie had spent much of her childhood tinkering with engines, riding on motorbikes and building radio-controlled model aeroplanes. When her eldest brother took up stock car racing she was quickly coerced into working as team mechanic and later, when she passed her driving test just three days after her seventeenth birthday, she also became the team driver.

Stephanie enjoyed having this dichotomy to her character and would often shock the stuffy intellectuals on her course by revealing her knowledge of how to strip down an engine or change a gearbox. Unfortunately Stephanie's TP talents were not so welcomed by those around her. Knowledge of the Tomorrow People's development had been greeted by the parishioners of her father's church as an abomination in the eyes of God. It was during the Easter holidays of her first year at university that her mother had taken Stephanie aside and warned her never to reveal her true nature to anyone in the village. So when she graduated with first-class honours three years later, it had seemed natural to take up residency in the Bristol Lab rather than returning home. Apprenticing to John, Stephanie had soon learned the intricacies of TIM's biotronic circuitry, as well as most of the Lab's essential equipment. And moreover, she, above anyone else, was trusted by their revered leader to help maintain his private collection of vintage cars; an honour that she would carry with her always.

Dragging her attention back from these fond reminiscences, Stephanie looked about the rain-soaked car park, its uneven tarmac surface alive with patterns of light created by the street lamps as they cast their illumination onto glistening pools of rain water. From her position beside the stack of boxes she noticed a truck pull into a bay twenty metres away. Once the engine had died, the door flew open and the driver climbed out. Locking his vehicle, he began to walk away in the direction of the services building, then suddenly he stopped and looked around in her direction. He was - she noted with dismay - not actually looking towards her; it seemed to be Roger's acrobatics on top of the lorry that had caught his attention.

(Watch out!) She 'pathed the warning just in time, as the driver marched over to their position.

"Evening," he called with a nod. "Have you got a problem? D'you need any help?"

Cole looked down from his perch on top of the nearest lorry. "No, there's no problem here," he replied, rather too quickly. "Thanks for asking."

The newcomer didn't seem satisfied by this answer and continued to stare with great interest at the two people on the roof of the truck. "Are you from Smith's Haulage?" he asked after a while. "I know most of the drivers working for the Smith family, and you don't look familiar."

Stephanie felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck, a sure sign that her psi-awareness could sense danger. Pushing off from the stack of computer boxes, she prepared to march across towards this enquiring stranger. Suddenly Ben trotted around the vehicle at some speed. "Hey." He waved as he came to a halt in front of the man. "I'm Ben Smith. It's nice to meet someone who knows my Dad."

The stranger looked this young man up and down, then smiled broadly. "Ben, my boy!" He rushed forward, his arms outstretched. "I hardly recognised you for a moment. Have you come back to help out your old man after all these years?"

Ben nodded emphatically and Stephanie felt a wave of telepathic relief pass amongst the assembled group. "Yeah, you know how it is. I heard Dad needed some help, so here I am."

"The last time I saw you, you were scooting about the yard on that three-wheeled toy truck of yours." He looked up at Roger and Cole, who peered down from the lorry's roof, then across at the stack of crates behind Stephanie. "Are you having some kind of trouble? "

"Nothing we can't handle," replied Ben, also glancing across in Stephanie's direction, as if looking for divine inspiration. "The cargo..." he mumbled at last. "The cargo shifted." His face brightened as the excuse formulated in his mind. "The late shift must have been in a hurry to knock off. They loaded the crates so badly that the whole thing shifted every time we went round a bend." Stephanie noted that Ben was still looking in her direction and he grinned as she nodded her approval at his quick thinking.

(Well done,) she 'pathed with a smile.

Ben also nodded, then looked back towards the stranger. "We came here to unload and repack the trucks." He paused for a moment as if considering something. "There is one thing you could do for us, though."

"Of course, Ben. What d'you want?"

"We've been working out here for half an hour now, and a hot drink would warm us up a treat." He pulled a wallet from his jeans' pocket and took out a crisp twenty-pound note. "Could you go inside and get us six cups of tea while we finish up?"

The man scratched his head, then reached out and took the money. "Sure," he said gently. "How d'you like it?"

Ben smiled. "Three with sugar, two without and one with no milk."

"I'll be back in a jiffy." Turning on his heel, the man plodded across the damp car park towards the services building.

They felt rather than heard Jimmy give a telepathic cough. (Ben's bought us five, maybe ten minutes. Let's get those last two matter transporters in place and get out of here. Josh, you and Steph had better keep an eye out for any more intruders.)

With no further comment they returned to their respective duties.

******

Entering through the sliding glass doorway of the motorway services, the lorry driver ducked out of sight behind an artificial potted palm and looked back towards the parked lorries. Never in his life had he seen a less likely bunch of drivers in charge of a convoy of heavy goods vehicles. They even had a woman amongst them, he thought with a frown. Watching surreptitiously from his hiding place, he saw the two men on the roof of the furthest truck moving about in some unknown activity. "Shifting cargo, my foot," he mumbled. "You lot are up to something; I can feel it in me water." The driver stood with his eyes transfixed on the tallest of the young men and was shaken when he suddenly vanished, then reappeared a few fractions of a second later beside the tailgate of the vehicle. A shudder ran down the lorry driver's spine. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, fear evident in his eyes. "Those rumours about Ben are true after all!"

Pulling a mobile phone from his jacket pocket, he flipped open the lid and began to dial 999!

******

Hannah Van De Mere pushed her high-heeled shoe harder onto the accelerator. Breaking the speed limit was no longer an issue. The police radio transmission that she had just intercepted said that a group of suspect Tomorrow People had been spotted at the Rothersham Services. It was just five miles ahead of her current location and she was determined to be the first agent on the scene, the first one to take this group of full TPs into custody and the one to get all the credit for it!

Speeding along the outside lane, she spotted the convoy of police and military vehicles ahead, their blue flashing lights and wailing sirens clearing a path through the sleepy drivers remaining on the motorway at this late hour. With a buzz of anticipation, Hannah pulled in front of the lead vehicle and radioed her presence. "This is Agent Van De Mere from SPS7," she called into the handset. "I'm taking charge of this assault team immediately. All police and military personnel are to follow me into Rothersham Services, remaining in their vehicles until I give further orders."

There was a moment's crackle, then the airwaves erupted with a shower of indignant messages from various senior personnel. Damn, she thought irritably, I don't have time for all this military posturing. Don't they understand that as a telepath I'm the only one here capable of handling these Tomorrow People? With a wicked gleam in her eye, Hannah Van De Mere came to an instant decision. These officers might outrank her, but none of them had her abilities and that was something she could easily use to her own advantage. She'd done it countless times before to gain favours from the right people, and saw nothing wrong with a little well-placed telepathic suggestion to clear a path through the stubbornness of the pedantic military mind.

Allowing the officers from the vehicles following her time to question her authority in this matter, Hannah eventually quoted the mandate of her warrant while simultaneously transmitting her authority directly into their minds, an action which quickly overrode their objections to her presence. Finally they agreed to follow her leadership and she gave a satisfied nod. Telepathy is such a wonderful tool for cutting through red tape, she thought with a wry smile.

By now the convoy had reached the slip road that led towards the services parking area. Glancing down momentarily at the Barlumin emitter on the passenger seat beside her, she knew that one pistol would not be enough to subdue an entire group of TPs, but at least she had the element of surprise in her favour. If she could just get close enough to release the powder into the atmosphere, even at low concentrations it would prevent their jaunting away and assure her of the arrest of a lifetime. "All right," she barked authoritatively into the radio. "Our targets are located in or around the three trucks parked ahead. I want the safety catches kept on all firearms until further notice. These are not killers, and I don't intend to be explaining any deaths to my superiors. I want to take them alive. All of them!"

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

It was Josh who spotted them first, standing as he was with his back to the rest of the team, staring out across the gloomy car park. (Look out, here come the cops!) he exclaimed telepathically.

Jimmy's authoritative voice rang in their heads. (Jaunt into your respective vehicles immediately.)

As she appeared beside Josh, Stephanie exchanged a worried look with the young Canadian TP. They all knew that the window for this mission was too tight for them to be delayed in a stun-gun battle with a bunch of trigger-happy Saps.

"So, what do we do now?" mumbled Josh, more to himself than his companion.

Stephanie was just about to respond when her thoughts were interrupted by Ben's shout of alarm. (Where's Roger?) They felt their adrenalin levels rise dramatically in response to the wave of anxiety broadcast by Ben. (He was with me on the roof fixing the last of the matter transporters just a few seconds ago.)

(And I'm still on the roof,) came Roger's curt reply.

(I thought I told everyone to get inside the trucks!) barked Jimmy, transmitting intense anger at Roger's defiance of his direct order.

They all felt Roger's frustration as he made his response. (We didn't come all this way just to give up at the first sign of a Sap threat. I'm having a bit of trouble with the magnetic clamps on this last matter transporter, but it'll only take me another few seconds to sort out. As I see it, I'm in no more danger up here than the rest of you are inside the cabs.)

By now the assortment of police and military vehicles had fanned out to surround them. Expecting a company of troops to disembark, the TPs were intrigued when one lone female stepped from the lead car, opened up a huge golfing umbrella and began to walk in their direction.

(What now?) remarked Ben.

There was a gentle ringing noise and Roger appeared beside him in the cab. (Now Jimmy calibrates the transporter matrix while the rest of us buy him some time.)

Jimmy took a deep breath in preparation for the task ahead. This was the most complex jaunt he'd ever had to calculate. With TIM's help it would have taken less than a few seconds to bring the transporters up to power, then align their biotronic processors to synchronise the matter stream for coordinated dematerialisation. But without such help Jimmy was required to calculate the complex hyper-spatial trajectories in his head, then use TK to activate the devices at precisely the same moment. (Okay, Steph,) he said as he closed his eyes and began to focus his mind inwards. (You have command until further notice.)

Looking out from their raised viewpoint, Stephanie inspected the approaching woman. Her neat grey suit and high heels seemed incongruous amongst the gaggle of military vehicles. (I wonder what she's up to?) she 'pathed absent-mindedly.

Roger summed up the situation in an instant, his police training giving him a unique perspective on this stranger's actions. (It looks to me as if she's coming over to talk to us. It's standard siege negotiation procedure. Keep your target focussed on you while you get the troops into place. Then, if an all out assault is necessary, you can move in quickly.)

(Well, this is one siege that isn't going to work out as the Saps plan,) responded Stephanie angrily.

Josh looked around at Stephanie and a fleeting sense of déjà vu passed across his thoughts. (She's a telepathic agent, I'm sure of it!)

(How do you know?) asked Ben.

(I've felt that mental signature before. Just after the raid on the Toronto Lab the city was crawling with agents for days. You learnt to suss out who was friend and who was foe pretty quick, if you wanted to stay alive on the streets.)

Stephanie nodded towards Josh. (Okay, I take your word for it, but if she's an agent then why's she walking out to speak with us? Why not just use telepathy?)

(Maybe she's scared to?) This remark came from Cole. (Maybe she knows what we can do to her mind if she drops her shields.)

(Yes, perhaps,) added Roger. (But it's more likely that she knows we're much stronger telepaths than she is. The link will work both ways and she won't be able to keep anything secret from us.)

Josh suddenly became very excited. (That's it! She's got a secret of some kind and is trying to hide it. It must be, there's no other logical explanation.)

While they had been discussing the situation the woman had walked to within fifteen metres of the trucks and it was now clear that she carried a Barlumin pistol in her left hand. "You are surrounded," she shouted. "My troops have got conventional weapons as well as Barlumin emitters. At present they are under orders not to deploy them, but at the first sign of anybody jaunting, they'll not hesitate to fire upon you."

Ben wound down the window of his cab and stuck his head part way though the opening. "Well, why don't you go ahead and use them then?" he sneered, much to Stephanie's annoyance.

(Ben, get your head back inside at once,) she ordered.

The woman raised the pistol into the air for them all to see, then bent down and placed it at her feet on the wet tarmac. (What on earth's she doing?) remarked Josh. He was just about to speculate further when the woman called out once again.

"Don't you think I know what Barlumin can do to you? Seeing a TP collapse into a radiation-induced fit is not a pretty sight, and one I'd like us to avoid on this occasion. You know as well as I that you cannot use your special powers when in close proximity to this mineral. So there's really nothing for you to do, other than comply with my orders in a sensible manner, stepping down from those vehicles and letting us take you all into custody before anyone gets hurt."

(If, as she says, she's got Barlumin with her, then how come we can still telepath to one another?) asked Roger unexpectedly. (It doesn't make any sense.)

(She's up to something, I'm sure of it,) replied Josh. He turned towards Stephanie and winked. "Why don't you read her mind?"

Stephanie's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Jerking away from him, she stared in disbelief at his proposal. "That is a highly unethical suggestion."

Josh shrugged. "And threatening us with Barlumin isn't?" His tone was scathing. "She's an agent, Steph. If our places were reversed, she wouldn't hesitate to do anything she could to get the better of us."

From his position in the cab of the middle truck, Roger looked across into the adjacent vehicle. (I don't know what you two are whispering about, but if you're gonna do something you better do it now!)

Stephanie hesitated momentarily, then submitted to the inevitability of Josh's suggestion. In the next instant her psi-awareness was nudging at the edges of the woman's mental shields and a microsecond after that she had broken through to touch the woman's mind. For a while she felt as though she was submerged in a tide of competitiveness. This woman's mind was characterised by an almost ruthless need to prove herself. As Stephanie probed deeper into the woman's psyche she became aware of familiar memories stored there, memories of the city of Cambridge and life at the University. She gasped and almost recoiled in terror as she revealed layer after layer of familiar sights, scenes and faces. Eventually summoning the woman's name, Stephanie was shaken to the core at the realisation that she had once before met Hannah Van De Mere.

******

It was in the year 2008, a few months after her breakout, that Stephanie first became aware that there were others like herself at Cambridge. She had enrolled into Selwyn College to study English Literature the previous October and after a pretty uneventful first term, she was determined to throw herself into the student lifestyle with more gusto. Arriving back from the Christmas break, she was fascinated, one evening, to see an invitation to join one of the lesser-known university societies pushed under the door of her room. Running out into the corridor, she was even more intrigued at how anybody could have delivered this message so quickly, then vanished without a trace.

As it turned out, CUPIDS was in fact the front for a group of Cambridge-based Tomorrow People who used it as a cover for meetings where they practiced their psionic talents in secret. CUPIDS stood for the Cambridge University Psychical Investigation and Discussion Society. Of course, these were the days before Mass Breakout when it was quite fashionable to show an interest in all things psychic. Distracted for a moment, Stephanie made a mental note to ask TIM whether the society still existed in today's more dangerous climate.

Having been initiated into the group with much hilarity, caused by her shocked expression when other members openly jaunted in front of her, Stephanie became a prominent member of the committee. It had been her job to monitor random telepathic signals transmitted by other students in the hope of finding new TPs before their breakout. She recalled visiting Hannah's college room on one occasion, to surreptitiously enquire about the nature of her telepathy. As it turned out, Hannah's latent talents were more diffuse and erratic than those usually exhibited by a pre-breakout TP. Stephanie had reported back to the others that Miss Van De Mere was nothing more than a Sap with some minor telepathic abilities. And now, after all these years, it was clear that Hannah's talents had drawn her into the world of espionage.

With a sigh, Stephanie put aside the memories of her college days, then refocussed her mind on the task at hand. She was just completing her probe when Hannah called out once again. "Look," she began, glancing across at the crowd of onlookers beginning to emerge from the services buildings, "we don't want to cause a scene. There are too many innocent people around here. And I'm certain none of you want their deaths on your hands. I'll give you one more minute to consider coming with me in a calm and rational manner. After this you'll leave me no choice. I'll give the order to flood the entire area with Barlumin and that will be the last time you experience rational thought ever again."

Stephanie's eyes gleamed with wicked delight. (She's bluffing,) she announced. (She's only got one small pistol with her. None of the soldiers are equipped with anything more than conventional weapons. She knows her backup is still twenty miles away and is desperate to entice us closer to her so that she can shoot us with the pistol.) Stephanie beamed at Josh triumphantly. (We can jaunt out of here any time we like and she'll be powerless to stop it,) she concluded.

(Well, if that's what she wants,) began Ben, his mind seeking approval from Stephanie before his next action, (then let's make her think that's what she's getting.) Winding down the window once again, he leaned further out this time before addressing the smartly dressed woman. "What sort of assurances can you give us that we'll be treated okay once we come out?" he asked, feigning concern for his own and the others' welfare.

Hannah looked momentarily stunned by his apparent surrender. "All I can offer you is my word," she replied with a smile. "I am prepared to discuss it further, if you wish."

Ben nodded and beckoned the woman towards them. She bent down and picked up the Barlumin pistol before stepping forward. "Just to be on the safe side," she remarked, conveying not only that she was pleased that they had entered into such a dialogue, but also that she still didn't trust them entirely.

(Careful, Ben,) warned Stephanie. (Don't make it too obvious that we know what she's up to.)

(I can handle it,) he replied confidently.

Hannah had approached quite close now. They could see her soft, round features clearly in the glow of the orange streetlight. (She thinks she's got us fooled.) Stephanie's telepathy was no stronger than a whisper. (She's going to invite us to leave the lorries, and then she'll shoot us all where we stand.)

(Charming lady!) Jimmy's return from abstraction was a welcome relief to all present. (Let's see how she handles a dose of her own medicine.)

(You there,) he 'pathed intensely, on an open channel. Hannah dropped the pistol and raised her hands to her temples as his words thundered around her brain. (Ever wondered what it feels like to be influenced by Barlumin?)

Forcing herself to look her adversaries in the eye, Hannah glared at them with indignant rage. "How dare you!" she shouted, Jimmy's assault on her mind leaving her telepathy ineffectual. "I approached you in good faith and this is how you repay me!"

(Don't speak to us about good faith.) His loud, angry response made her wince with pain. (The Tomorrow People lost patience with the Saps many years ago.)

"But we can negotiate your release... I'll personally guarantee your safety..." They could all tell that Hannah's words came from the desperate hope that she wouldn't fail in this most important mission. Especially after Stephanie informed them of her inappropriate use of psionics to override the military officers and take control. "There's still time... we can talk about it..."

Jimmy's face lit up with a huge grin. (The time for talking is over,) he remarked bitterly. (There is only one thing I have left to say to you...)

Hannah's expression froze as her rational mind made the leap of understanding. All her hopes for future career success faded in that moment before the three trucks dematerialised.

(Byeeeeeeeeee) 'pathed Jimmy with glee, and they vanished into the swirling nothingness of hyperspace.

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

Decisions

Earlier that day - 7: 30 am GMT: 22.5 hours before the Raid

The control room of Luna Lab was quiet - the lull before the storm. Just one hour from now the large chamber would be flooded with people, and the challenges both of Luna and the Earth below confronted once again. For now, however, the room was all but empty, with just a few of the leading Tomorrow People already seated in companionable silence around the largest of the link tables. Kershia looked up with a smile as Abby entered the control room, waving her to a seat beside her. Nodding greetings to Kershia and the others, Abigail smiled in return. Gratefully she accepted the coffee and toast that TIM had materialised on the table's softly glowing surface.

She breathed in the vapour from the hot drink with a sigh of satisfaction and relief. "Hmmm, I need this."

Jimmy grinned, exchanging an amused look with the room's other occupant, Ben.

"Don't let Travin hear you say that," he laughed. The others chuckled along with him. There was a long-standing argument amongst the Tomorrow People over whether caffeine should be classed as a stimulant for them to avoid, along with alcohol, nicotine and other less legal substances. As a retired doctor, Travin, together with the most of the TP medical establishment, tended towards banning coffee on Luna; fortunately for Abby, the rest of their unofficial council was as caffeine-dependent as she was.

Sobering slightly, Abby looked around the room.

"Is no one else here yet?" she asked, sipping from the mug cupped between her hands.

"The others are late." TIM's voice, seemingly all around them, emerged from his concealed speakers; it was impatient and abrupt. Kershia and Jimmy exchanged a concerned look, sharing Abby's confusion. The biotronic artificial intelligence had been quiet since they had arrived that morning, his short-temperedness uncharacteristic. Usually he would greet each new arrival in his rich voice, his welcome making this metal shell of a room somehow more homely. Today he was silent unless spoken to directly, providing their usual morning food and drinks without comment. Abby threw her companions an inquiring thought, but they could only shrug their shoulders in response.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon, TIM," Ben soothed, even as Stephanie, Roger and Cole jaunted into the control centre from their own rooms on the level below. Things moved too quickly for any of them to enquire further after that. In quick succession, Travin, Josh and Don jaunted in from Canada, followed by Sophie and her assistant Zoë from the Californian Lab. The five of them accepted drinks and a late night snack from TIM, while the Luna residents ate their breakfasts. Time was at a premium for them all since the Seniors had left - it was only at TIM's insistence that they made time for breakfast at all. Although the Luna group met daily over the morning meal to deal with the problems of Tomorrow People worldwide, they tried to arrange a more general gathering at least once a week. Sophie, as head of the Tomorrow People's communication network, was essential at any such meeting, and Don, in his role as inter-Lab co-ordinator, was becoming just as indispensable. With Travin and Josh present to represent the concerns of the Canadian Labs and the network of Labs on Earth in general, they were able to tackle difficulties from a broad range of viewpoints and with a depth of experience that the relative isolation of Luna couldn't provide.

At last, everyone was settled around the largest of Luna's link tables, with food and drink of their choice. Zoë grinned at Don as they slipped into adjacent chairs, the two of them sharing the slight discomfort that came with being no more than occasional visitors to this select council. Only since the departure of the Seniors had the two of them been co-opted into more prominent roles by their respective superiors. It was pure luck that the overlap between their communication roles had given them the chance to become friends, and something more.

"How are things up north?" Zoë asked with a grin, brushing her curly red hair back from her face.

"Cold, raining and miserable," Don assured her. "As usual." He slipped an arm around her waist and she rested her head against his shoulder, running a hand through his still-wet hair.

"My poor, damp Donny!" she joked with a silvery laugh. "You're going to catch your death of cold."

"Perhaps I should just move down to California?" He paused thoughtfully, straight faced. "Or perhaps you should come up to Canada for a bit? See how the other half live. I'm sure we can persuade everyone that your relocation is essential."

"I think my Lab leader might have something to say about that," Zoë laughed. She caught Abby's quick glance. "And so might yours!"

The Canadian leader smiled tolerantly, exchanging a glance with Sophie. It cheered everyone's spirits to see that life and laughter could go on even in these difficult days. However, this was neither the time nor the place for laughter. With a deliberate cough Abby called them to order.

"Perhaps we'd better get started," she suggested, the Canadian twang in her accent cutting through the murmur of mostly British tones. Silence fell around the circle, all eyes automatically coming to rest on her. Abby's gaze though was fixed on the still quiet TIM. The hemispherical devices that marked the computer's physical presence in the Lab were suspended directly above the link table. They pulsed gently, their ever changing colours pallid and subdued.

"Where would you like to begin today?" he asked calmly, aware of Abby's attention.

All around the table Tomorrow People frowned, wondering how to get to the bottom of what was bothering their friend. Abby hesitated and Kershia leaned forward intently, her dark eyes full of curiosity.

"Have we heard anything from the Federation Inquiry, TIM?" the young woman asked in a moment of inspiration. The others nodded; they had all been racking their brains for what was wrong, but if anything was going to unsettle him, that would be it.

Careful not to let his thoughts show outwardly, TIM sighed to himself. Clearly he had not been able to hide his preoccupation from the others. At least, if Kershia had not seen to the root of his primary concern, she had given him an opening for the second, almost as grave. He sometimes wondered if the younger Tomorrow People had really thought through the consequences of this investigation. They so often pushed the issue aside, unwilling to talk about it. Perhaps they just didn't appreciate the scale of the potential disaster implicit in the Federation's plans. Perhaps, like TIM himself, they appreciated it only too well. He cleared his throat. At least today he had something to report. "We have indeed had a report on the first session of Inquiry ZD28-FV6."

Jimmy gave a mirthless laugh. "So they've finally got around to holding one!" he snapped. "I thought they were going to keep the Seniors waiting around on the Trig for ever."

"Typical Federation efficiency," Stephanie murmured a little sarcastically.

Abby couldn't help sympathising as the other ex-members of the London Lab voiced their agreement. Until she had spoken out at the summit meeting so long ago, John and the others had seemed as distant and unreal as mythical gods. Since then everything had changed. Even after no more than eighteen months of close contact with the senior Tomorrow People, she missed their guidance and the simple reassurance of their presence. Those who had broken out in Britain, with the Seniors there to guide them through the difficult process, were feeling the absence acutely.

Zoë nodded too, glancing at Sophie before speaking out. Her superior encouraged the younger woman with a smile.

"It would be helpful to have some of them back, at least." Zoë flicked her red hair, unconscious of the gesture. "Since news has leaked out about John leaving, morale ..." Her voice trailed off, aware of the eyes on her from around the room.

"That's leaked?" Abby snapped the question angrily, putting down the mug she held. Her eyes shifted to Sophie. "I thought we had agreed to keep it quiet!"

"We did." Sophie met Abigail's eyes just as angrily. She'd come a long way from the frightened girl who had been involved in the Malthus raid four years before. The responsibility involved in her duties - both in clandestine encouragement of the ever growing pro-TP movements amongst the Saps, and in maintaining the morale and communications between the millions of scattered Tomorrow People - had given her the confidence she needed to snap back at the other leading TPs. "But we hadn't a hope once it got out up here. Do you think your Luna refugees don't talk when they go visit friends and relatives on Earth? It's been all we can do to keep the location of Luna itself secret; with your residents blocking that from the minds of everyone they speak to, other things leak out."

Don nodded. "I started to pick up rumours flying between the Labs almost a week ago," the Canadian volunteered, "even with official inter-Lab communications virtually non-existent. I've been liasing with Sophie's people ever since." Zoë gave him a grateful look, glad of the support as the Luna group exchanged chagrined glances.

"It's been general knowledge in the lower levels for weeks," Kershia admitted quietly. "Everyone who works here in the control centre knew about the Seniors leaving suddenly and somehow word spread that John wasn't with them." There was a tightness in her voice. The sudden departure of her mentor and their long-term leader had been a shock and was still unexplained.

Abby rubbed a hand across tired eyes.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing we can do about it. Don, do all the major Lab Leaders know about the Inquiry yet?"

Don nodded. He had spent most of the last month jaunting from Lab to Lab, passing on the word to their leaders in person. These days, with the numbers of Sap telepath spies increasing almost as if in response to the Mass Breakout, they could never be too careful with such sensitive news. "They'll be able to deal with questions from their people," he confirmed. "I glossed over what John was doing, though."

Cole raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not surprised," the quiet security agent noted wryly. "Given that we still don't actually know that ourselves!"

Despite the tension in the air, everyone had to smile. It was just like Cole to cut through to the heart of the situation with a little humour.

"Aren't we straying a little from the point here?" Kershia noted after a few moments.

Abby sent a mental touch of agreement to her friend. Telekinetically, she summoned a pen and paper and prepared to take notes.

"All right, back to business. TIM, why don't you read out the minutes, then we can deal with what's been happening in Luna, and then what's going on down on Earth." She looked around at the others. "Agreed?"

Jimmy waved a vaguely encouraging hand in the air. Kershia and Stephanie nodded, the others shrugging their agreement as well. TIM waited until Abby's confirming look before speaking sombrely.

"I fear that Zoë and the rest of Sophie's staff may have to wait some time before they report the return of Stephen and the others to our people worldwide," he warned, before clearing his throat. "'The Minutes of Federation Inquiry ZD28-FV6, Standard Galactic time reference 22375.55 - 22376.46...'"

******

They listened in silence as TIM outlined the arguments on one side or another.

"'His Excellency Timus Irnok Mosta upheld the Tomorrow People's request to be allowed to prove their differences to the other creatures of their home planet, and the meeting was adjourned while evidence was prepared,'" the computer concluded at last. The silence held for long seconds after he finished.

"It's not going well, is it?" Josh, youngest of the assembled Tomorrow People, voiced the question for them all.

"It didn't sound very promising," Travin admitted, laying a hand reassuringly on the shoulder of his young protégé.

"It sounded as if some of our neighbours are prepared to sit there for months arguing until they get their way!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"That is quite possible, Jimmy," TIM noted. "Federation Inquiries have been known to last years rather than mere months."

"And Timus is chairing this one," Kershia exclaimed, understanding beginning to dawn. "He'll keep them talking for ever before letting them do this to us!"

Abby frowned, shaking her head.

"I don't think he can risk that," she said softly. The others gazed at her questioningly. Of them all only Abby had training in the political sciences that were coming to govern all their lives. "If this inquiry were being held on Earth, at the UN or somewhere like that, the ambassadors would already have protested that the chairbeing is not impartial. From what little I've studied of Federation politics the same could still happen. If Timus shows us any significant favour then he'll simply be replaced. He might be tacitly in support of our position, but he won't be able to keep this in the air indefinitely."

"What will happen," Josh asked quietly, "if they do as they're threatening and set up this multi-whatever-it-was field? How will we cope with being locked in with the Saps - forever?"

The faces of Jimmy, Stephanie and the other security agents went blank, concealing their emotions behind unreadable masks. Sophie exchanged sombre looks with Don and Zoë, brushing her hair back from her face as she broke the unsettling eye contact with the two of them. Abby hesitated, looking instinctively to Travin, her one-time Lab Leader, for guidance. He met her gaze neutrally, with none to offer. She shook her head, her own expression becoming determined. Anger with the Federation and all its works crept into her voice. Why should they live their lives in fear on the whim of some distant race? They couldn't allow this inquiry to ruin their morale and render them impotent.

"That's not going to happen," she told them all. She forced confidence into the words. "Stephen, Elizabeth and the others aren't going to let it happen, and we aren't going to either."

Josh studied her face for a moment before nodding and letting the matter rest. Abby's words rang in the silence of the near empty control room, inspiring the courage to face what was coming with fortitude. A rallying cry for them all.

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

8: 30 am GMT: 21.5 hours before the Raid

Abigail shifted in her chair, reading through the notes she had been making over the course of the last forty minutes. Having dealt with the matter of the Federation Inquiry, they had moved on to the troublesome details of running Luna: yet more refugees arriving and needing accommodation in the already seriously overcrowded centre; the difficulty of working with the unfamiliar and jury-rigged alien equipment that was all that kept the place ticking over; supply problems with water, air, power and any one of a hundred other consumables. Roger's report of ever decreasing morale, and even occasional violent outbreaks in the refugee centre, were frankly alarming. Certainly, the problems of the huge refugee centre were significant enough to unsettle any of them, but there was an added tension in the air today.

TIM was still quiet. They had expected him to cheer up somewhat after delivering his Federation news, but he had remained all but silent through their half-hour discussion of Luna's concerns. It suggested that there was something more - something he had yet to tell them.

Kershia glanced up anxiously at TIM's hemispheres and then sighed restlessly. As she looked down once again she caught Jimmy's eyes and they shared a rare moment of total understanding. Jimmy shrugged, the simple gesture eloquently expressing a frustration that mirrored Kershia's own. This meeting was exactly the kind of tedious discussion that both had been eager to avoid. None of the security-trained Tomorrow People were comfortable in the administrative roles they'd been forced into, which made them wonder if Stephen or Paul or any of the other Seniors had been any happier in their security roles.

"Where were we, Abby?" Kershia asked tiredly, eager to move business forward.

Abby looked up from her notes, meeting her friend's eyes. "About to ask you about the Malthus children - since Emina hasn't joined us today. How are things on the top level?"

Kershia frowned.

"A little unsettled," she admitted. "The kids are still coming to terms with Emina and her grandchildren. It's probably good for them. I hadn't realised quite how they act together until I saw them with Adi and Sanela. They're not at all accustomed to others."

Sophie leaned forward, attracting everyone's attention.

"Have we given any further thought to Emina's opinion that the Malthus children ought to be allowed to mix with the kids in the lower levels?" she asked.

"While they're still infected with the virus it's not even an option." Travin's voice was flat and uncompromising as he made the statement. "We can't be sure that the Saps won't redevelop the trigger agent."

"We destroyed all the research and the only stock in the Malthus raid," Jimmy told them all firmly. Stephanie, Roger, Ben, Cole and Sophie all sent their telepathic agreement. Not much had gone right on that disastrous raid, and there wasn't a moment of it they were likely to forget. "We're sure of that."

"You were sure you had all the children too," Josh noted, with just a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "That didn't stop the one you missed from destroying our home." The young Canadian let his bitterness show for just a moment, memories of that dreadful day replaying themselves behind his eyes, behind Don's, behind Travin's, and perhaps most vividly, behind Abigail's. Kershia looked at the white faces of the Canadians and also went pale.

"If you're going to blame anyone for that, Josh, blame me," she said quietly, but her eyes were on Abby. The Canadian leader herself remained silent, not willing to voice an opinion in the knowledge that she was far from impartial.

Troubled by the old guilt that filled Kershia's voice, Josh looked from Kershia to Abigail, her closest friend and Josh's own Lab Leader. If Abby had come to terms with this, who was Josh to argue? "It wasn't really anyone's fault, Kershia," he told her, waving a hand as if to dismiss the argument. "It's just hard sometimes - that so many of our friends are in the Camp."

"Have you finished discussing the Malthus children?" The Tomorrow People around the table nearly jumped from their seats in surprise as TIM spoke. Guiltily, he fell silent; he had not meant to startle them. Usually he would have participated far more actively in their discussions, but after his reticence today, his intervention had been unexpected. TIM hesitated, unsure how to go on. He had waited patiently as his friends had taken in the news from the Trig; he had delayed still further as they discussed the vital details that kept the thousands of Luna residents alive. Certainly, he had no eagerness to break the news that would make such things fade into insignificance.

Abby and Kershia exchanged startled looks, then Abby shrugged.

"I guess so. We're not going to reach any conclusions today and there's no time to sit here and argue about it." She hesitated. "We were about to move on to your report, TIM, on the Earth ..." Her voice trailed off with a sudden note of fear. "And the camps."

"There's a problem in the Canadian Camp." TIM wasted no time on prevarication. It was obvious that every Tomorrow Person present had already come to the same conclusion.

Kershia leaned forward intently.

"The whole camp situation is a problem," she reminded him. "Could you elaborate?"

Now, TIM hesitated. He watched Abby and the other Canadians carefully as he continued slowly: "The Canadian Camp is still the largest. It has a larger number of pre-breakout children than any other."

"We know that, TIM," Jimmy interrupted, losing patience. He stopped suddenly, sensing the anxiety behind Abby's pale face.

"TIM told Kershia and me a few days ago that some of the kids were ill," she reported in a soft voice. She looked upwards, her eyes on the computer. "What's happened, TIM?" she asked quietly.

The room's main view screen lit with the image of a rain-drenched field and in its centre the child's coffin being lowered into its grave. Abby's eyes scanned the familiar faces of the two thousand of her people who had been snatched from the Toronto Lab, resting for a time on the faces of the child's parents before settling at last on Marc as he addressed his fellow prisoners.

Josh was on his feet, fists clenched by his side as he took in the scene. Without Zoë's hand on his arm, Don would have joined the younger man. Instead he gritted his teeth, his eyes flooding with tears. Travin too remained seated, painfully tearing his eyes away from the screen to study Abby instead. He watched as grief, pain and anger chased each other across her face, before she replaced them by sheer force of will with the practised neutrality of a politician. Travin nodded, both recognising and approving of her unwillingness to burden the others with her distress. Despite that, his gaze followed Abby's, back to rest on Marc and the other captives. Travin might not have been resident in Toronto when the Lab was raided, but he knew many of the captives nonetheless. After all, he had spent long, quiet years as Lab Leader before handing that burden on jointly to Abby and Marc. None of them had ever expected it to come to this.

Kershia exchanged quick, anxious and tightly shielded thoughts with the rest of the Tomorrow People in the room, urging them to give Abby and her people a few moments. London's main Lab had been abandoned the same day as Toronto, displacing many of its residents, but that had been a smooth transition, a far cry from what Toronto had suffered. The London TPs and the American Zoë hesitated, unwilling to intrude on their Canadian friends' pain. Finally, Jimmy cleared his throat.

"What happened, TIM?" he asked, repeating Abby's question.

"Her mind was destroyed by the Barlumin radiation that permeates the Camp," TIM told him flatly.

"But ...?" Kershia's voice trailed off in confusion.

TIM finished her thought. "In adult Tomorrow People the radiation is not fatal. But these are not adults - they're children and they're trying to break out."

There was a moment of confused silence. Each of them was lost in the memory of their own breakouts; that joyful and terrifying moment of epiphany that had changed their lives. Groping for understanding, each of them remembered their fear and uncertainty at the first misfiring signs of their abilities. It was Travin, with his long experience of assisting nascent Tomorrow People, who saw the problem first.

"Uncontrolled telepathy and Barlumin," he said flatly, glaring angrily at nothing in particular. "Our people are only surviving in the Camp by suppressing their own abilities."

"And the new breakouts don't have that option," Ben exclaimed. "Their minds must be struggling against the radiation constantly."

"Marc and the other Tomorrow People have been forced to sedate the affected children," TIM told them all. "According to the Camp's records and what I can determine from my remotes, the second-in-command - Major David Barton - has authorised the treatment against the will of Commander Trent. Until now it seemed to be working."

"But now we know." Travin's words were deliberately clinical. "The trauma of Barlumin-inhibited breakout can be fatal."

"TIM," Kershia asked uneasily, "how many children is this going to affect, in camps worldwide?"

"Perhaps a hundred and fifty children of Tomorrow People in the Canadian Camp will reach breakout age within the next two years. In camps worldwide? There are almost five hundred other children in the same situation."

"And those would be concentrated in the other two large camps, wouldn't they?" Roger asked with a frown, trying to get to grips with the scale of the problem.

"The camp in China and the largest of the European isolation centres," Sophie agreed. "They both took most of their populations from Lab raids. The other camps mainly picked up Tomorrow People a few at a time - and relatively few complete families."

"We have to get the kids out of there." Josh's demand cut across the discussion. They paused, staring at him.

"Attack a camp?" Stephanie asked, disbelieving. "Josh, don't you think we've considered it before? With Barlumin radiation saturating the place, we haven't a chance of even getting close before we collapse."

Josh shook his head stubbornly.

"There has to be some way of doing it. We block other forms of radiation." He made a vague hand gesture, indicating the metal-lined cave they inhabited. "Could any of you live up here without that?" He looked around the circle of grave expressions. "Abby?" he appealed.

Abby tore her gaze away from her fellow Lab Leader's image on the screen. She turned her head away, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes.

"But surely Marc and the others found that sedatives will stabilise most of the children?" she asked TIM in a hopeless tone.

"Obviously not in every case." Kershia spoke unexpectedly and they all turned back to her in surprise. Attracting Abby's attention with a thought, Kershia spoke directly to her friend. "I agree with Josh on this, Abby. We need to get the kids at risk out and to safety."

"The sedatives aren't the answer." TIM had remained silent as the first shock of his news had sunk in. Now he replaced the image of the camp on the view screen with one of a memo on some kind of headed notepaper. Even as they all peered at it, trying to read and interpret the dense text, he summarised it for them. "The Canadian Government is cutting funding for medical supplies to the 'detention centre' - over the protest of the Camp's second-in-command. I quote: 'The per capita expenditure on individuals detained under the recent national security provisions is far exceeding that in the general population, largely due to an unreasonable demand for powerful opiate derivatives and other analgesic or sedative substances. Future requisitions for such supplies will not be approved.'"

"That's ridiculous!" Don couldn't stifle his outburst, jumping from his chair and pacing the room in frustration. "How could they deny a request for medicines?"

"The people of Canada would go through the roof if they knew what their government was doing," Sophie exclaimed, leaning back in her own chair to get a better view of the document on the screen. "There's already a lot of discomfort in Toronto in particular about the Camp, even if ninety percent of the population doesn't know what it's for. If word of this got out they wouldn't stand for it." Her sentence ended on a rising note, making the statement almost a question.

"And a fat lot of good that's going to do the kids," Travin snapped at her. "The Government would just deny it or claim the entire population of the place is addicted to painkillers or something! Look, we can't just stand by and let this happen!"

"I don't see what we can do," Jimmy told them all, his voice still level after Travin's outburst. "Stephanie has a point about the Barlumin." He hesitated, looking around the room at the team he had led through the Malthus raid. "Even if she didn't, there's another concern. The only security agents I'd even consider sending into a situation like that are all Luna-based. Do we dare risk the control centre and refugee complex here - even for this?"

"I don't think we can," Abby said quietly, her mind tightly shielded from them all. She turned to her fellow Canadians. "I have to see the bigger picture now. I can't put all the Tomorrow People in the world in danger just for our friends."

"If we do nothing, those children are going to die." Kershia's stark statement of the problem hung in the air between them. She stood, drawing a deep breath. "Don't tell me it's impossible! When have we ever let that stop us? When did John, Stephen and the others let it stop them? Abby, you said that we wouldn't let the Federation isolate us. How is this any more difficult? We'll find a way. We've been standing on the sidelines for too long now. We've been running scared since the Malthus raid, terrified of risking another such Pyrrhic victory." She saw the indignation on Jimmy's face and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "What have we been doing really? Snatching a few people here and there to safety? Laying down false leads for one Sap agent or another? Don't get me wrong here: it's been worthwhile, yes. We've saved lives - hundreds of them - but what is the good if we stand by now and let our next generation die? We've abandoned Marc and the others to their fate for too long." Her brown eyes glanced around the circle, holding the gaze of some, forcing others amongst them to look away. "We're handing victory in this war to the Saps. We've not been acting - merely reacting. It's time we stopped and fought back."

Josh cheered, his approval bursting out of him. Don and Travin broadcast their agreement telepathically. Abby just stared at her hands resting on the table in front of her, rather than meeting Kershia's eyes. Kershia threw her an anxious look. Usually the British woman would never challenge her friend's leadership like this, but Abby was too close to this problem. One of them had to speak out.

"TIM." Kershia spoke sharply. "If we raided the three largest camps, how many of the kids could we get to safety?"

"Three hundred, perhaps," TIM told her. "But - "

"But John would never approve of taking this big a risk," Stephanie interrupted with complete certainty.

"John isn't here now." Abby's voice was still quiet and tightly controlled, giving no indication of her thoughts. She looked around the circle of faces, wondering if they would ever be fit to follow in the footsteps of John and the others.

"No," Kershia told her. "We are."

Jimmy looked from Abby to Kershia and back again. In the past month this select little council had found themselves increasingly following the paths suggested by the two women. Now, with Abby and Kershia in apparent disagreement, the path ahead was far from clear...

"Abby, you can't seriously be considering this!" he urged.

Abby hesitated.

"It's too big a decision for any one of us," she told them finally. "We'll vote on it."

There was a moment of confusion - under the influence of the Seniors, the Tomorrow People had never been a democracy - but then Jimmy nodded gravely.

"I vote against," he told them simply.

"And I say yes, we go for it," Kershia returned immediately.

Abby nodded neutrally, making a note of the votes.

"Stephanie?"

"Against. I'm sorry, Abby, but the security implications..."

"Josh?"

"In favour!"

Slowly the others began to voice their opinions.

Roger and Cole, both sad but certain: "Against."

Travin and Don, equally sure: "We go for it."

Sophie's eyes were filled with compassion, her gaze on Kershia: "I say yes, we have to try."

Zoë hesitated, looking first at Don and then Sophie. The young woman shook her head helplessly, unwilling to stand both against her superior and the man she loved, but unable to support them: "We can't take the risk."

"I agree with Kershia. We can't do nothing," Ben said quietly, last of the security agents to speak. He was aware of incredulous looks from Jimmy and the others, but ignored them. "If we let this happen then we'll have given away everything we're fighting for."

Abby stared at the paper in front of her. Six to five.

"TIM?" she asked, desperate to delay her own vote.

"Abby," TIM's voice was heavy with regret. "I am more sorry than you can possibly imagine. I have to see this in the context of the millions of Tomorrow People whose lives are at risk. I cannot approve of such a dangerous mission. I must vote against."

Six to six. Abby froze, her heart in her throat. All her emotions, everything inside her, pulled her in one direction, but she knew where her duty lay.

The others watched, shielding to give her the mental privacy she deserved, waiting for her to cast her vote

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

"Abby," Kershia said gently, "don't let your love for Marc condemn him."

Abigail's head jerked upwards, horrified eyes settling on her friend's face.

"I ... I don't know what you mean," she protested quickly.

"If this were any other camp, any other Lab Leader, you would throw caution to the winds and agree to make this move." Kershia's voice was pain-filled as she watched her friend being torn apart. She seldom spoke out this way in their councils, but she couldn't allow Abby to make the wrong decision now. It would destroy her. "Yes, it's risky - none of us are denying that. But you know as well as I do that it's a risk worth taking. We're never going to achieve anything sitting here in Luna, tucked away in our safe haven. I think that even John understood that at the end. We have to be bold and now is the time to start; there are lives at risk and we have no choice. You're telling yourself that these are Canadians and you have to be impartial. You think you don't dare to show your people any favour. Well, be impartial! Look at the big picture: it will show you the same. This is the right thing to do and if this had been any other group of children you would already have agreed."

Abby gave a half-hearted smile as Kershia's words sank in.

"Have you ever considered taking up politics yourself, Kershia?" the young woman asked. "That's your second fine speech in under an hour." She looked around at the group: each with a different opinion, but all of them feeling for her dilemma. Abby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right, people," she said simply. "We're going to do this."

They scattered after that, breaking into small groups that wouldn't get bogged down in argument and discussion. There was undoubtedly sufficient work to do and plans to make to keep them all busy. Now that the decision to proceed had been made, other questions remained unanswered. How were they to do what had always before been considered impossible, and perhaps as importantly, when? As Sophie pointed out, no Tomorrow Person had perfect mental shielding. Sooner or later word of the plan would leak out, and who knew what the consequences of that would be? Even if word didn't reach the Sap spies that they all dreaded, how would their own people react? Sophie shuddered to think of the thousands of desperate pleas they might receive to rescue friends or relations from the camps. Even their most optimistic plans could do no more than save a few of the children. Whatever preparations they decided upon would have to be made and carried out rapidly.

******

Josh and Stephanie yawned simultaneously and then exchanged guilty looks. While the others investigated just how a raid could be organised, how the children they rescued might be treated, or looked into the implications that such a raid could have, the two of them found themselves deep in the bowels of the Luna Complex, brainstorming on the most fundamental issue of all.

"So we definitely need some kind of radiation protection?" Josh summarised the last ten minutes of fruitless discussion. He stretched awkwardly, trying to shake off his feelings of claustrophobia. The confined atmosphere of Luna was even worse than normal here in the small utility room to which they had retreated in search of privacy. It was a far cry from the rural solitude of Pinewood Lake, where he lived with Travin. In the years since he had fled Toronto he had seldom visited the big city, and the pressure of minds he sensed here on Luna was a constant trial. Of course, the lack of sleep probably wasn't helping. Back home the stars would be shining in the ink-black night, seeming closer somehow than they ever did in the metal box that was Luna. With a sigh, he picked up one of the plans and blueprints that littered the table in front of them. Through aching eyes he squinted at it.

"That's the bottom line," Stephanie agreed with a frown. She too rifled through the technical diagrams, looking for some device that would aid them in that aim. She sighed, wondering what Jimmy was doing and whether he was having more luck. True, the Tomorrow People all had a scientific intuition that far exceeded the average Sap, but she was the only one amongst their select council with any substantive technical training. Nonetheless, they were talking now about something far outside her field of expertise. "Unless we have that, we're not even going to get close to a camp."

"And the AE suits just aren't powerful enough," Josh complained bitterly. "They don't have enough power to work in the spectral region we have to block." He glared at the paperwork as if the inanimate plans were remaining beyond his reach just to spite him. "There must be something here we can adapt to do the same thing - but with enough power. "

Stephanie was barely listening. She cleared her throat awkwardly, gazing at the plans that had caught her eye as Josh had spoken. Could the mad scheme she had just visualised work? She ran through the calculations in her head. It was possible, just barely, but the implications... No, there had to be another option.

She looked up at TIM's optical and audio sensors suspended from the wall in one corner of the room. The biotronic intelligence couldn't monitor every room in the huge complex as a matter of routine, but today he would be watching, she was sure. "Any suggestions, TIM?"

The biotronic computer hesitated for a long moment.

"Only the Federation-supplied shields we use to block cosmic radiation here in Luna have the capacity to block Barlumin radiation, even for short periods of time," he told them gravely. "Josh was quite correct when he argued earlier that without them, a settlement like Luna, outside the protection of Earth's atmosphere, would be impossible. The flux of radiation, both cosmic and solar, would rapidly render any unshielded habitation unviable."

"So can you manufacture shields of the same design for us?" Josh asked urgently, flicking his brown hair out of his eyes as he leaned forward towards the sensors. "Shields we could attach to our AE suits?"

"Josh -" TIM's voice was patient, but frustrated - " I could not manufacture such devices even had I the resources to do so! I do not have the technical knowledge. It is only through Federation technology that Luna survives."

"Then there's nothing we can do?" the Canadian asked as he slumped in his chair, disappointed. Stephanie gently laid a hand on the young man's arm. Had she ever been this volatile? At times he seemed little more than a child and yet, she realised, half their team had been just as young when they had endured the Malthus raid, years ago. Of course, sometimes, as now, dark memories surrounded the boy, building walls around his mind, and she knew that his childhood had come to an abrupt end long ago. He was as determined as any of them to play his part in this undeclared war.

"I don't think TIM would have let us go on so long if there were no other options, Josh," she told him quietly.

"I cannot manufacture additional shielding units." The computer spoke slowly, almost reluctantly. "But, as I believe Stephanie has realised, it is possible to adapt the existing devices to project their field into the fabric of an AE suit."

"But that would mean ..." Josh's voice trailed off.

Stephanie clenched her fists in frustration. "It would mean leaving Luna exposed."

"I have been running simulations in search of another solution," TIM told them. "I had hoped that one of you would intuitively see something my logical processors had missed. However, it is possible to equip fifteen people with Barlumin-proof AE suits, for a period of no longer than twenty-seven minutes, while leaving the lower two levels of Luna with sufficient protection to avoid radiation damage to their residents. You will be forced to carry power packs for the fields. They consume power at an astronomical rate."

"The lower two levels? The overcrowding would be appalling!" Josh shook his head firmly. "That's not good enough, TIM."

TIM allowed just a little of his pent up frustration to spill into his usually level voice.

"If you are determined to do this thing, Josh, then there is no other way."

******

10am GMT: 20 hours before the Raid

Jimmy sighed as Stephanie and Josh reported. If they were ever going to back out of this, now was the time. No one would blame them; the danger in which they would have to place the people of Luna was extreme - very nearly unthinkable. He glanced across at Abby's face, watching as she absorbed the words, and accepted her determination to go on. He had expected no less. He might not agree with the decision, but now it was made, the head of Tomorrow People Security would do his best to see this mission succeed. They had moved into Abby's office now - one of the small side-rooms that radiated out from the control area - seeking privacy as the main room filled with the business of the day.

"The Barlumin radiation will just bounce off." Stephanie finished her report, her voice weary. "But that's not all, I'm afraid. Neither telepathy nor anything more than the weakest electromagnetic radiation is going to get through the field these suits will project. We should be able to arrange for a phase interference window at the wavelength of visible light, but certainly no more than that. Our vision will be very limited in the suits, even more so than normal."

"No telepathy, no radio," Jimmy said grimly, shaking his head. "This isn't going to be easy."

"We never thought it would be," Abby sighed. "At least now we have a plan - something that might actually work!"

"And with the modified AE suits we can jaunt in and grab the kids," Josh exclaimed enthusiastically.

Jimmy threw him a startled and amused glance.

"What makes you think you're going anywhere, kid?" Jimmy asked the young Canadian with a smile. "This isn't a mission we can take amateurs on."

"It's going to have to be." Travin stood at the office door, his flat tone wiping the smile from the younger man's face. Josh looked up at his mentor with gratitude, but Travin wasn't looking at him. "Jimmy, I've been discussing this with the medical staff up here. You're going to need medics with you - people who can deal with these kids in real time. When you get them out of the field they're going to be exposed to uninhibited psionics for the first time in almost two years. If these kids are on the verge of breakout, they will tip over the edge the minute they are removed from the Camp - there won't be time for you to get people in from outside. We'll have to be there on the spot." He paused, looking directly at Abigail. "You asked me to organise the medical side of this. I've been able to find two qualified doctors with some intelligence training for the other raids, but for our Camp - I'm coming myself."

Worried, she shot Jimmy a questioning thought. He replied with tightly shielded resignation, climbing from his seat to stalk the small office. This mission was rapidly spiralling out of control, but even he had to concede the necessity of the doctor's demand.

"Travin," Abby asked hesitantly, "are you sure about this? We can find someone else with medical training."

The more experienced Tomorrow Person gazed into nothing, a look of concern on his face. Memories of his years as a city doctor haunted him; the pain of helping others while knowing you would often fail. It was a life of relentless pressure that had all but killed him, before the failure of his marriage and his retirement to Pinewood Lake had given him the chance of a new life. He had never dreamed that he would be drawn back into the kind of life he had fled. Nevertheless, Travin was certain. He just gazed at his successor silently. With the ease of long practice, Abby read the expression on her ex-leader's face. She smiled half-heartedly at Jimmy. "It looks like you've got three amateurs along, Jimmy."

"Three?" the security chief asked warily, his expression grim.

"Two, if you insist that we leave Josh behind," Abby confirmed flatly, ignoring the young man's protest.

Jimmy knew that his dismay showed on his face. Stephanie was reaching for him telepathically, sharing his concern. He opened his mind to his fellow agent, even as he reached mentally for Kershia. Already he could see that Abby was beyond his ability to convince. If there was one person on Luna who could get through to her...

Kershia jaunted in immediately, startled by the urgency in Jimmy's communication. Wide brown eyes scanned the Tomorrow People in the room, settling on Jimmy questioningly. Both ignored the indignant thoughts Abby radiated to everyone present.

(You have to talk to her!) he appealed. (Kershia, you know what security missions like this mean. You know that we can't take Abby - of all people! - with us. What would our people do if they lost her, so soon after John left? Besides, she knows everything, Kershia. She knows more details of our business worldwide than anyone except John himself! We can't risk taking her literally into the enemy camp.)

Grasping the situation at once, Kershia stood perfectly still for long moments. In the silence of the room she studied the determination in her friend's pale visage. Memories flooded her. Abby and Marc had been so happy together in the Toronto Lab, never admitting the way they felt about each other, even to themselves. It had seemed so natural for the two of them to be together, a stark contrast to Kershia's own relationships. She and David had been together for so many years, both of them living a lie. Now David was Marc's gaoler and neither woman could do more than look on, helpless - until now.

"You're on your own, Jimmy," she said aloud. "There's not a chance that you'll talk her out of it, or me for that matter."

Jimmy shrugged helplessly, realising the truth of that statement. Anxiety faded into determination behind his blue eyes.

"All right, we said we'd be raiding three camps. It looks like I'm going to Canada." He caught Kershia's surprise. "Well, you don't think I'm going to let the two of you down there without keeping an eye on you, do you?" he snapped, looking from one woman to the other. He stood, waving the others towards the door with a frustrated gesture. "It looks like we've got a lot of planning to do. Travin, you'd better introduce me to these doctors of yours. Steph, can your team handle one of the other raids? Either Cole's going to have to take the rest of my group on the third, or Roger's going to have to be lured back from Lab Security."

"Of course," Stephanie agreed as they left, but her grave tone belied the easy words.

******

Kershia slumped into a chair opposite Abby as the others left. The two of them were alone for the first time on this busy day.

"I don't think Jimmy's very happy with us," Abby noted with a tired smile.

"He'll get over it. He's just worried." Kershia gave her a curious look. "I half expected you to explode when he called me in."

Abby shrugged.

"Would it have done any good? If there's one thing I've learnt over the years, Kershia, it's that it's not worth getting worked up about small things," she sighed. "We need Jimmy onside. There's too much at risk not to have him planning this."

Kershia nodded a sombre acknowledgement. "How are you holding up, Abby?" she asked seriously, meeting her friend's eyes.

"It will be a relief to get the children clear." Abby broke the eye contact abruptly, her tone matter-of-fact. "We've let the whole camp situation go on too long. I had abandoned my own people! They must believe that I've forgotten them, betrayed their trust in me." Kershia said nothing, her silence drawing Abby out of her reticence. "What you said earlier ... Marc and I were never like that, you know, Kershia. We always thought there'd be time later - after the Tomorrow People came into their own. We didn't even think about it that clearly. Even when the whole situation started getting so dangerous, there were always things that needed to be done. There's a bigger picture to see - never any time to worry about ourselves."

"There are always are things to do, Abby," Kershia told her softly. "There always will be. And you realise too late that some things you just have to make time for."

Abby hesitated, anxious to turn the conversation from herself, needing to say the words. "As you made time for David," she noted, her tone grave. Kershia paled and Abby leaned across the table to cover her friend's hand with her own. "I know it's hard for you, Kersh."

Kershia gave a harsh laugh. "Half the team know! They're just all too polite to say anything."

Abby smiled gently. "Ah, the famous British reserve." She met Kershia's eyes. "Seriously though, they trust you - and so do I. But if you ever want to talk..."

"What's there to talk about, Abby? It was over between us almost five years ago! It was never fated to work. David's one of the enemy. He tried to kill me - tried to capture you, too. Now he's second-in-command of one of the worst atrocities that humans have ever inflicted upon one another."

"I'm grateful that he's there," Abby said very quietly. "Kershia, I know you've read the reports. If Trent alone had been in charge of the Camp we wouldn't be looking at one death, but tens or hundreds. David has done everything he can to keep conditions humane. My people are weak and ill, but he's kept them from the living death that the inmates of some of the other camps are suffering. How can I not be grateful?"

"Don't you see?" Kershia asked, pulling away with an agonised expression. "That makes it worse! He's wrong, Abby, but he's not a monster."

******

"A coach!" Roger burst through the door, excited and with Cole and Ben in his wake. "Abby, we've been trying to work out how we can actually get the children clear. Just jaunting in and strapping matter transporters to each and every one is going to take an age, even if we had enough of the things."

"But if we load them onto a coach we can use the transporters to move the whole kit and caboodle," Cole finished for him. "Easy as taking candy from a baby," he joked.

Kershia rolled her eyes at Abby, her carefully constructed facade falling easily back into place. Abby watched it regretfully, but the others were demanding her attention now. Kershia's dilemma and Abigail's own would have to wait.

"We're going to have to find some way to get the children out in large groups," she agreed with a frown. Her conversation with Kershia abandoned, she looked up at TIM's camera. "A coach - or a vehicle of some kind. Maybe something with an open space at the back? I don't think we could fit so many into a coach alone. TIM, if we were to load the kids into something like that, could you jaunt the entire thing out at once?"

"It is possible," the biotronic computer conceded, a note of excitement in his voice. He hesitated, running through an array of calculations and simulations. His tone became urgent. "But only if it is done today. We're near noon in Luna's day. If we delay it will be another four weeks before I can pull sufficient power from our solar supply."

The Tomorrow People exchanged determined looks. Abby stood, drawing all eyes to her.

"All right, we knew we'd have to act soon. Now we know how soon. Roger, we're going to be evacuating the top three levels - including the Malthus kids." That drew startled thoughts from them all, Kershia included. "I don't care how you do it," Abby went on. "Hibernation pods, sealed AE suits - anything, as long as they're not hurt and don't infect the rest of Luna. Some of the others are already making arrangements for getting shields sorted out and forming the raiding parties. We've spent long enough talking here. Now, at last, it is time for action. We raid the camps tonight, as close to simultaneously as local nights will allow. There is a lot to do first, all of it vital." She counted the points off on her fingers. "We need to adapt the shields, get our people moved away from the top levels, finalise the teams, arrange reception points for the children we get out, find some kind of appropriate vehicles...."

She stopped, distracted, as Ben raised a hand as if at school.

"I have an idea about that one," the young man volunteered with a serious expression on his face.

Abby smiled in response, nodding. She stepped away from the table, indicating with her hands that they should precede her into the control room.

"Let's get to it," she said simply.

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

The Raid

5: 40 am GMT, 0:40am local time: 20 minutes before the Raid

The staging area was a barren wasteland, high in the American Rockies. The truck, with its man-made lines and the alien protuberances of the matter transporters, made a shocking contrast with the natural splendour. Agent Van De Mere, and even Mr Smith himself, would hardly recognise the vehicle that had been snatched from under their noses, if they could see it now. Fresh paint glinted faintly in the pale moonlight, concealing the white wording that had once decorated its black sides.

Travin sighed, studying it as Kershia checked that his AE suit was correctly sealed. He was a country boy at heart and mechanical monsters such as this were neither frequent nor welcome visitors in his quiet corner of the world. Checking his watch, he glanced up at the waning moon that so many Tomorrow People called home. Somewhere on its dark side five thousand people would be crammed into a space intended for just a fifth of that number. The temperature would be rising, air becoming stuffy as the environmental equipment struggled to cope. Somewhere in that heaving mass, nine children and one old woman were unconscious in hibernation capsules. If all went to plan they would wake again in the top level that they called home, unaware that anything out of the ordinary had even happened. If all went to plan ...

Abby hesitated, taking a deep breath of the cool air before settling her helmet onto its seals. It had been a long time now since she had been outside the artificial environment of Luna, let alone so close to her native land. She suppressed a nervous shudder as Travin made a final adjustment to her AE suit. With a shrug she tried to settle the suit more comfortably on her shoulders, the heavy power pack strapped to the bottom of its environment unit pulling it out of shape. As yet the addition served no purpose, just waiting for the shield module to which it would give life, but she needed to adjust to the unfamiliar weight, as they all did. Finally Travin gave a nod of satisfaction and let her go, moving on to check Josh's suit. Stepping away from her friends, Abby gazed around her, attempting to regain her composure as her eyes tried to pick out details in the night.

"Abby?" Kershia's soft call broke into her friend's reverie and Abby turned back to the others. They were all suited now, the pale grey of their otherworldly clothing standing out even against the sandy brown rock. Kershia scanned the group with some measure of dismay, understanding Jimmy's clear concern. Only the two of them had any degree of intelligence training; Abby, Travin and young Josh were little more than civilians. Of course, all three had proved themselves over the years, thrown into the thick of the Tomorrow People's battle. Nonetheless, Kershia couldn't help wishing that they had more trained intelligence officers with them. This mission called for stealth and speed; she only hoped that the Canadians could rise to the challenge.

Noticing Kershia's measuring look, Josh shook himself. Straining a little, he straightened shoulders that had been bowing under the weight of his backpack. With the memory of the successful heist this evening to inspire him, Josh met Kershia's gaze. He could do this, he willed her to understand. Josh remembered the night of the Toronto raid, when stungun fire filled the air and the fog of Barlumin radiation blocked half the Lab from his psionic vision. As chaos and death surrounded him, Josh had escaped. He owed this mission to the hundreds of children who hadn't. Quietly determined, Josh focused on his team-leader, awaiting final instructions.

"We all know the plan." Jimmy spoke quietly, his voice resolute. "There's no time to go through it now. There may be a million to one chance it will work without a hitch. More likely, there will be something we don't expect. Perhaps there will be more guards than we expect. Perhaps they've replaced the dogs they lost to the winter cold. TIM's latest scans didn't show any guard activity around the kennels - hardly surprising on such a bitter night - but we don't know. If things go wrong, don't panic! There will always be a way to get around the problem, as we saw earlier this evening. Remember that once we're inside telepathy is not going to be possible and we're not even going to have radio. We'll be wearing diving suits, small envelopes of protection. Any psionic energy we try to broadcast will be disrupted by the Barlumin as soon as it leaves the suit's field. We're not going to be able to talk, any more than deep-sea divers can. Now, from the moment we give TIM the signal we have twenty-five minutes to get in, out and back to Luna. That's all, people! There's no 'just a minute more'. Twenty-five minutes and then people will die - in one place or another." Jimmy kept his tone matter-of-fact, not allowing any of his private doubts to leak into his voice. Instead he met everyone's eyes individually and spoke with the confidence that had inspired his security team to success many times before. "Move quickly, carefully and quietly. Do what Kershia and I tell you and this will work."

Josh swallowed hard, murmuring his understanding. Travin checked through his medical kit one last time before looking up with a sharp nod.

"Are the other teams ready to go?" the older man asked simply. Their eyes defocused for a moment as TIM made contact.

(You are the last,) the biotronic computer told them.

With a flurry of jaunts, all five took their places in the black truck and Jimmy coaxed the engine into purring life. In the darkness of the truck's container Abby breathed deeply, the noise loud and echoing in the confines of her suit. She rested a finger on the suit's inbuilt chronometer, ready to start her countdown.

(All right,) she broadcast to TIM and to all three raiding parties. (Let's get this show on the road!)

6:00am GMT: Raid + 0 minutes

With the procedure planned to the last detail and the people involved drilled mercilessly, it took no more then thirty seconds for the shield modules to be removed from their Luna homes, committed to TIM's care and fitted with the appropriate modifications. In the cab of their vehicle, Kershia gasped as she both heard and felt the module click into place on her suit and begin to cast its shield. There was no time to become accustomed to the curiously close sensation though. Just a second later the entire truck shivered slowly through hyperspace, its matter transporters hauling the incredible mass beyond the limits of mere space-time.

Black night surrounded them, even the feeble moonlight absent below a pall of cloud. A metal mesh fence loomed ahead, barely visible and no more than ten metres beyond the cab. In the gloom behind it a dark-painted wooden fence loomed against the night sky. Carefully, controlling his impulse to smash through the fence regardless of the guards, Jimmy edged the truck forward.

Light flashed electric blue, leaving dark lines across Jimmy's retinas. For a moment he froze in instinctive fear, recoiling as if he could feel the shock. He took a deep, shuddering breath. The truck had protected them, just as TIM had promised it would. Quickly Jimmy blinked his watering eyes clear. The foil mesh of the electric fence pulled away from its supports, quietly giving in to the irresistible force and wrapping itself around the radiator of the truck.

First hurdle overcome, they rolled across uneven ground, the truck shuddering through the muddy ruts and pits. It shuddered still more as the radiator made contact with the wooden fence, gradually splintering the wood. Here, inside the truck, the scream of tortured wood and the roar of the engine were near deafening, despite their AE suits. Outside the sound baffles TIM had fitted during the frantic evening would be turning the noise back in to them, rendering their approach near silent to observers. Jimmy gritted his teeth against the inevitable vibration, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Beside him Kershia held on to the door handle, the two of them silent and focused on their task.

The fence was bowing inwards now, its top edge almost touching the cab's forward window. They knew that the young wood was cracking before and underneath them, becoming brittle under the shear. Almost in slow motion, the ten-foot fence fell inwards like the doors of some ancient castle yielding to the force of a battering ram.

As Kershia glanced quickly from side to side, Jimmy drove across the remnants of the fence. In a moment he matched his surroundings to the aerial photographs TIM had shown him. Picking up speed, he guided the truck down the wide avenues between the Camp's grim huts before braking to a halt beside the slightly larger building that was his destination. As he cut the engine, he and Kershia sat in silence for a long count of three, listening for the outcry they more than half expected to hear. TIM had placed them as close as possible to the segregated area in which the children were held, and midway between the two main guard towers in the Camp. Eighteen months after the detention centre had opened, the guards seldom bothered to patrol outside their comfortable stations in these early hours of the morning. After all, even if the inmates could have penetrated the two fences, where was there for them to go? They were a hundred miles from the nearest settlement here, isolated from any hint of civilisation. Nonetheless, the raiding Tomorrow People listened for any hint that they had been discovered. Had they been quiet enough? Or had they been unlucky and overheard by some conscientious soldier?

The opening of the truck's rear doors startled the two agents out of their inaction. Abby and the others were tumbling down from the trailer's tailgate, their movement triggered by the engine's deactivation. Jimmy and Kershia swung down from the cab, moving silently to join them. With a nod, Jimmy signalled the okay for the plan to swing into action. The Tomorrow People scattered, Abby and Josh each heading towards one of the uniform cluster of children's dormitories close to where they had stopped. Grasping his medical bag firmly, Travin headed towards the nearest of the wooden huts - the hospital facility in which the weakest of the children were being cared for. In each of the huts they expected to find one or two of the adult captives, assigned to the care of the children by the Camp authorities. Anxiously, Jimmy checked his watch. Twenty-two minutes. With the help of the Camp's inmates it would be enough. Replacing his stungun in its belt holster, he extended the truck's rear ramp, ready to start packing children into the limited space.

"Can I help?" whispered Kershia.

Jimmy sighed. "I think we can handle things quite well without you, thanks." His tone was harsh and anxious and caught Kershia by surprise.

For the briefest of moments she felt rejected by his words. As a leading member of Luna, she had had few opportunities to work this closely with Jimmy since the Malthus raid. She recalled how, back then, this brash young man had questioned her every move, voiced his mistrust of her at every turn. Did he still feel that way, she wondered. Leaning in close to his faceplate, she noticed the look of tightly controlled fear behind his eyes. This was a man who took his role very seriously, a man who would make it work at all costs. Now that circumstances had thrust him into the role of head of security, Kershia couldn't imagine him doing anything else.

"Okay," she whispered, "I'll scout around the area."

As she slipped away, children began to stumble out of their huts, crying and dazed from sleep. She saw Josh beside them, urging them to silence, checking that the foremost children reached Jimmy safely. As they did so, the young man moved away, heading for another of the dormitories. Satisfied, Kershia left the others to do their own jobs and slipped silently between two of the huts, in order to do hers.

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

Raid + 3 minutes

Kershia moved wraith-like through the small huddle of low wooden huts. As she slipped from one shadow to the next, she strained every sense to detect any threat to their mission. With no way for TIM to warn them of approaching danger, Abby and the others were frighteningly vulnerable. They were depending on Kershia. They were counting on her to get back to them with a warning if anything came their way.

Despite her determination to justify the trust Jimmy had shown in her speed and stealth, Kershia couldn't help but look around her as she explored the wide avenues between the huts. She had seen this scene displayed by TIM's remotes countless times, but there was something different about seeing it with her own eyes, something that the silent and unsteady images shown on the screen back in Luna could never convey. Kershia tried to put her feelings into words and the only thought that made any sense was that the place felt haunted, melancholic and loathsome.

From the state of the exterior paintwork, she could tell that the accommodation huts were in need of repair, and she found herself wondering what life must be like for the residents of this strange, isolated community. The additional weight of the bulky shield generators, lashed haphazardly to the bottom of her AE suit's backpack, made it hard to move quietly and her small frame was already complaining at the additional load. Despite this hindrance, she knew the radiation shield was vital if she and her fellow agents were to remain alert in this Barlumin-drenched environment. Crossing the open ground between her position and the nearest hut, she noticed that small gardens had been created in between the low picket fences. Stepping across one of these flowerbeds, she was saddened by the realisation that, resigned to their fate, the Camp's inmates had attempted to brighten their otherwise bleak world. She was close to the structure now, and could see the window frosted by the warm breath of the sleeping inhabitants within.

Without warning, a door opened a few metres away from her position and she froze, eyes searching frantically for somewhere to hide. Luckily the figure turned away and, pulling on a coat to protect himself from the cold, the man marched quickly around the corner. His breath condensed in the chill air of early morning, leaving a trail of vapour as he walked away.

Kershia's own breath caught in the back of her throat and she fought back a sudden wave of panic. Despite the lack of lighting in the compound, there was no mistaking the identity of the silhouetted figure, or the swing of his familiar gait, as he rapidly disappeared. However unlikely it might be, she was convinced that fate - or perhaps Pele - had brought David out into the night at that precise moment.

Curious to know what he was up to at this strange hour and desperate to see him again, Kershia completely forgot the mission and eagerly rushed after him. She passed the corner of the nearest cabin, only to see David open the door of a larger administrative building and disappear inside. Walking tentatively across to the window, she must have resembled a ghost, shimmering as she did within the radiation shield's protective barrier. Carefully she held her breath and peered over the sill at the figure inside the room.

******

Raid + 5 minutes

The door of the hut swung inwards with a loud creak that grated against Josh's nerves. Gritting his teeth, he peered into the gloom inside, willing his eyes to adjust quickly. Random lights exploded across his retinas in time with his rapid heartbeat, as his optic nerves strained to interpret the weak signals. Time preyed on his mind; there was none to waste. Ordered rows of beds loomed out of the shadows, illuminated by the faint glow cast by his suit's protection field. He moved stealthily into the hut, trying to imitate the fluid movements he had seen Jimmy and the others employ so easily, even as he struggled to make out the details of his surroundings. All around him there were rustles of fabric and the occasional murmurs of childish dreams.

"Who's there?" The woman's voice was quiet and anxious. Josh froze, aware now of a figure moving at the far end of the hut.

"Don't turn on the lights," he hissed urgently. "We can't risk the attention. Who are you?"

There was a long moment of silence and Josh tensed, aware of the woman approaching between the aisles of beds. Light flared suddenly, dazzling him, and he took a hasty step backwards before realising that the torch was covered with a gauzy sheet, dimming and diffusing its beam. They stood in a small circle of light, invisible to the high-set windows. The hut's matron gazed at him in wonder, taking in the faintly glowing AE suit that made such a contrast with the drab colours of the hut's interior. Josh stared too, recognising the woman's face. In happier times this had been one of Abby's staff, responsible for training the Lab's young children to use their special abilities. With those same abilities stripped from her, she had become thin and pale. Dark hair, pulled back into a tight ponytail, framed a face prematurely lined with anxiety. Now hope gave her a new vigour.

"I'm Sian. We thought you'd forgotten us! Have you come, at last?"

Josh shook his head quickly, aware constantly of the need for speed. "I'm sorry, we can only take a few! There's no room."

Disappointment creased Sian's face and for a worrying instant Josh was concerned that her legs would give way, swept from beneath her by the waves of fresh despair. Then the woman rallied. She nodded her understanding, swallowing her eyes.

"Whom have you come for?" she asked flatly.

"The children," Josh told her tersely, relieved to get back to the matter in hand. "The six, seven, eight-year-old, second-generation kids - anyone likely to break out in the next two years. Sian, I remember you from Toronto. You know about breakouts - you must know who they are!"

Sian looked around her sleeping charges, her eyes picking out the dozen or so children who met Josh's description. He followed her gaze; waking them without rousing the others - separating them from friends and siblings - would be difficult, to say the least, but necessary. These mixed-age dormitories were relatively unusual in the Camp and inevitably housed families of siblings, the elder children unwilling to be parted from their younger brothers and sisters. The separation had now become essential, but that would not make it any easier.

"We have to get them moving and outside!" he exclaimed, keeping his voice low. He glanced at his watch, counting the passing seconds. "We have to get them out of the Camp!"

Sian froze, her eyes suddenly wide with horror as a new thought struck her.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked in an intense whisper. "Oh God - what if you're working for Trent, just trying to isolate the potential breakouts? The Saps could have captured an AE suit. You could be anyone!" Her voice was rising, the children stirring in their beds in response. Moving quickly, Josh seized her shoulders.

"Sian, Sian! Calm down!" He pulled her closer, ignoring his embarrassment, forcing her to peer through his suit's faceplate. He had been nobody in the Lab, just one of the hundreds of dispossessed teenagers who called it home. Would she even recognise him? "My name's Josh. I used to live in Toronto before ..." His voice trailed off, and in the absence of telepathy, it was the look in his eyes as the memories hit him that did most to convince her. He swallowed hard. "You said that you thought you'd been forgotten - never! Not for a single moment!" He looked away, releasing her. "I have to get the children out of here. After what happened yesterday ... we had to do something!"

"Josh! We don't have time to hang around." Jimmy's hissed whisper from the doorway startled them both into action. "Get moving!"

Sian nodded, stepping towards the nearest of the bunks she had indicated and waking the child who lay there with a hand across its mouth to still the inevitable cry. Josh moved to the next bunk.

"I know, Jimmy!" he whispered back. "I know!"

******

Raid + 8 minutes

Calculating that she could afford to linger for a further five minutes before her absence was noticed, Kershia stared in through the window. She watched as David sat down at an overcrowded desk. Searching through the piles of scattered paperwork on its untidy surface, he eventually found his prize, then picked up a pen and began writing a report of some kind.

With her eyes drinking in the details of the scene, Kershia rapidly became absorbed in every nuance of David's movements. Every tilt of his head or flick of his fingers, as he completed the paperwork, reinforced the longing in her heart to speak with him once again. He may have betrayed her back at the military base on Dartmoor, but now more than ever before she knew that she loved him.

Suddenly, without warning, Kershia was pushed aggressively from behind, her attacker pinning her to the wall. The one hindrance of wearing an AE suit was the limited field of view afforded by the helmet. For this reason the TPs often preferred not to wear the complete outfit. On this occasion though, it was necessary for protection from the Barlumin, and Kershia sighed as she strained to look around at her attacker. Expecting to see a guard, she was surprised when she recognised the Camp's commanding officer, Trent, his eyes flaming as he grinned at her maliciously.

"Come to spy on our little community, eh? Thought that by wearing this -" he rapped his knuckles on the top of her helmet " - you'd be safe from the Barlumin." Trent glanced up through the window in order to see what Kershia had been looking at. Spotting David working at his desk, Trent peered closer at the helmet's faceplate. "Oh, I see. You're his bit of skirt, aren't you? I've read your file. The two of you worked together - very closely together, from what I read - for three years. But he turned on you when you betrayed his department. You and your kind think you're superior to the rest of us, but you're no better than rats. Breeding out of control, infesting this world with your petty, pacifist ideas. You deserve to be exterminated like the vermin you are." He shuddered. "It makes me sick to think of you and him together!"

In her current predicament - legs spread-eagled, arms pinned above her head, and Trent's weight pushing into her lower back, pressing her body against the rough outer surface of the building - Kershia felt helpless. She wanted to cry out telepathically, but was painfully aware that the protective shield around her body would prevent it. For now all she could do was hope that, once he let go of her, she would be able to run back to the safety of the truck. Bitterly, Kershia regretted her inattention. Escape to the truck was just not an option any more. From his behaviour so far, it seemed that Trent had no idea that she was part of a larger team, and for all their sakes she hoped it would stay that way. Jimmy and the others were totally exposed now; any chance she had of getting back to them with a warning had slipped through her fingers. Instead of their protector she had become a threat. She could no more risk running away, revealing the intention of the raid, than she could risk staying, surrendering her intimate knowledge of Luna into the enemy's grasp.

Trent released his right hand, but retained a tight grip on Kershia's wrists with his left, preventing her from moving away. "Let's take a look at this fancy space suit of yours, shall we?" His now free hand moved across her shoulder, then down to the AE suit's backpack, which he inspected in an attempt to learn how it functioned. "Hmmm," he mumbled to himself after a pause, "very neat, lightweight with no external mechanisms... It's a sophisticated piece of equipment, must have miniaturised circuitry too." He moved his hand lower and felt the bulky shield generator strapped to her lower back. "What's this? Something extra... something you need for this particular jaunt, I suppose."

Returning his gaze to her face, he stared into her frightened eyes. "Whatever it is, our scientists will have fun picking it apart. The details of this will advance our space programme no end." He chuckled. "Of course, like all space suits it must have some sort of oxygen supply." Kershia writhed under his weight as he gripped the blue conduits that ran from the backpack over the surface of the suit and into the helmet. Even with her limited knowledge of how an AE suit worked, she knew that those pipes carried bio-molecular fluids, not unlike TIM's biotronic circuitry. All Trent had to do was pull them out and her suit would instantly decompress. Kershia tried to focus her mind to retain control, but despite her best efforts she felt the tension rising as his intent became clear. With one huge tug he pulled the pipe-work free, and a loud hissing noise signalled her rapidly diminishing air supply.

Trent watched with macabre fascination as she began to struggle for breath, her eyes betraying the panic that her lungs were already feeling. Gradually the suit's internal environment became ice-cold as she fought to keep her few remaining breaths shallow. Trent just stood there, smiling insanely as she slowly suffocated.

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

Raid + 13 minutes

"Jimmy?" Abigail's whisper brought the security agent around to her side of the truck. He nodded as he surveyed the twenty or so children behind her, indicating that their adult carers should help them up the ramp and into the truck. "Jimmy, how are we doing?" Abby whispered as he pulled her back into its shadow, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for danger.

"Better than we could have expected. With the groups you and Josh have got out, we're almost two thirds full." He frowned at the truck, aware of the murmur of frightened children coming from inside it. "Keeping them quiet is not easy. They're tired and confused. I'm not used to dealing with kids, Abby."

"You're doing fine," Abby told him, unable to resist a smile despite the tension. "Any word from Kershia?"

"Not a thing," Jimmy told her. " There's no reason why there should be, but even so ... "

"Let's not go looking for problems, Jimmy," Abby warned. "Kersh can look after herself - she'll let us know if there's a problem. The guards don't even know we're here yet."

Jimmy nodded reluctantly, but the frown lines did not fade from his brow. "Except for one that Travin had to stun - he was lurking around the hospital building." He paused, his expression grave. "We might have another problem: The kids in the hospital. Travin has sent a few of them out with their nurses. I know they're too sick to walk, but we need to speed that up."

Abby nodded determinedly. "I'll get onto it."

She moved rapidly across the gap between huts, the grass that had grown there in the last eighteen months springing back under her feet with each step. The hospital's walls too were dappled with green where lichen had colonised the roughly finished wooden surface. It was just one more symptom of the decay that seemed to permeate this camp. Neglected as it was by its commander, only the efforts of its inmates brought any semblance of order or maintenance to their prison. Abby felt numb as she climbed the wooden steps to the hospital door. Pale faces haunted her, their expressions despairing. Shattered dreams lay piled around her feet, making every step an effort. She had seen too many old friends in the seeming age since their arrival; seen them and told them that she couldn't set them free.

Quickly she looked from side to side as she stepped into the dimly lit interior, unwilling to announce her presence by calling out. The glow of Travin's suit identified him immediately and she moved towards him, ignoring the other dark figures moving between the beds of the hospital's single ward.

"Travin." She called his name softly and was startled to see the strain on his face as he turned to look at her, turning bodily to centre her in his restrictive field of view. Forcing herself to focus, she checked her suit's chronometer. "Only ten minutes left, Travin! We need to get these kids out of here. How can I help?"

His reply was full of frustration and anxiety.

"You can't! We're moving as quickly as we can. Most of these children are really too sick to move. If we don't at least try to stabilise them first..." He shook his head, already turning back to the child he had been leaning over. "Get going, Abby," he told her urgently. "I've not forgotten the time, but you can't help here."

Frustrated, but recognising the truth of his words, Abby turned to go.

"Ma chère?"

The voice, soft and uncertain, stopped her in her tracks. He couldn't have recognised her half-concealed face from across the room, he couldn't even have heard her whispered conversation with their ex-leader, but he wouldn't need any of that to recognise her. Every line of her body, every movement she made, was utterly familiar to him.

"Marc!"

Abby was in his arms as suddenly as if they had jaunted in unison, meeting one another midway. There was no one else in their world, and nothing as important as the reunion they had both dreamed of. She held him tightly, while he held her as if he would never let go. She ran her gloved hand through his hair, longer now than she had ever seen it before, and cursed the suit that kept them apart. Marc's eyes were closed, a tear trickling from his dark eyelashes. Tentatively, she brushed it away, only now beginning to think consciously. Time pressed in on her, the burdens of her life not forgotten even in this of all moments, but she forced those concerns aside.

"I've missed you so much," she breathed in a trembling voice, hand stroking his tired face. There were lines there, grey in his hair, that even the remotes had been unable to show her. "Oh Marc! What have they done to you here?" His eyes opened and he smiled wanly.

"I was never sure, Abby. I was never sure you felt the same way. It's been so long, with no sign you even remembered..."

She laughed through her tears, but the quiet rebuke in Marc's voice had robbed the moment of its joy.

"I was never sure either," she told him quietly, "until now. I think everyone around me knew how I felt better than I ever did." She met his eyes through the transparent faceplate, and held them. "Now, I'm certain, Marc."

He looked at her with a blank expression that froze her heart. His love for her was hidden now, buried in bitterness.

"And yet you left us here, Abby. Don't tell me that this raid wouldn't have been possible a year ago. You left the children to live in agony, not even noticing until it was too late ... for one of them, at least. You abandoned us."

******

Raid + 15 minutes

In the last few moments before Kershia lost consciousness, Trent released her from his grasp and stepped backwards. Immediately she fell to her knees, clawing frantically at the helmet seals. Struggling to remain conscious, it took a huge effort to rip the helmet away from the neck collar, throw it to the ground and draw in a long, deep breath.

For a few seconds her head started to clear as the oxygen flooded her brain once again, but with the helmet's seal broken, she had interrupted the protective shield surrounding her body. There was a momentary fizzing sound, followed by a loud beeping noise, then the energy field fluctuated and finally collapsed. Suddenly the Barlumin hit her. It felt as if someone had struck her over the head with a heavy object. Kershia looked up into Trent's eyes, eager to yell at him angrily, but her rational mind was lost to her and the words of accusation were impossible to verbalize. Her bodily systems began to fly out of control. Her skin crawled with a prickly feeling that she couldn't scratch, she began to perspire profusely and her eyes felt as though they wanted to climb out through their sockets. That was only the beginning. In the next instant the fit began and she collapsed onto the dirt, her limbs shaking uncontrollably from the effects of the radiation that permeated the atmosphere of the Camp.

"Oh dear, cat got your tongue?" Trent sniggered menacingly and stared at her as she lay shaking violently on the ground at his feet. "I've heard that Barlumin poisoning is like an epileptic fit, only ten times worse." He was positively gloating at her predicament. "They say that all logical thought is lost to the victims, leaving them like helpless children, barely able to control themselves." He fixed her gaze with his steel-grey eyes. "You see, Ms. Ahren, that's the difference between you and me. I'm a mere Sap - I think that's what you'd call me - someone with just five senses. But you, with your so-called genetic enhancements, you've got psi-awareness. Or should I say you used to have. How does it feel, eh? To lose all those special powers of yours?"

Kershia's eyes betrayed the astonishment she was incapable of articulating. "Don't be surprised," continued Trent. "We know all about your kind. We've had decades to study you, to experiment on you, to learn to detest you! This psi-awareness is your people's greatest weakness. Barlumin affects the neurons of the brain, causing a catastrophic overload. Leaving you like this" - he kicked her leg with the toe of his boot - " a snivelling wreck, no good to man nor beast!"

For what felt like an eternity, but was in fact only a few minutes, Trent just stood over her, laughing insanely at her suffering. Then, as she began to acclimatise to the Barlumin's effects, he pulled her over until she was lying on her back. Without warning he jumped on top of her, pinning down her arms and legs. As she lay powerless beneath his body weight, he ran his hands across her suit in a disturbingly sleazy manner; an action that, despite her mental suffering caused by the Barlumin, felt like a sordid and degrading act. There may have been the thick fabric of an AE suit between them, but Kershia couldn't help feeling violated somehow. As a semblance of rational thought emerged from the turmoil that was her mind, she struggled to pull herself clear. "Oh no, you don't - you aren't going anywhere." Trent fumbled in his trouser pocket and pulled out a gun, which he held to her head. "Not when we're having so much fun together." He hissed the words into her right ear. "If you don't remain quiet I'll be forced to shoot you."

******

Raid + 16 minutes

"We waited for you to come. For weeks we just waited. After that ... well, we tried to get out, Abby, while we were still strong enough. A few even managed to get outside the walls, tunnelling beneath them. But where was there to go?" Marc looked away from her, his voice soft with old pain. "Trent didn't even bother to send out search parties for half a day. Our people were brought back unconscious and hypothermic, overtaken by exposure before they could recover from the influence of the Barlumin." His eyes met hers once again and the hopeless despair in them was shocking. "We had to wait, hoping and praying for rescue. But instead we were forgotten. You didn't come."

Abby stepped backwards instinctively, her longing for Marc warring with her desire to escape his accusations.

"I never abandoned you, Marc," she whispered, desperate to believe it herself. "I've never forgotten you, even for a moment." She shook her head sharply. "But I have so many other responsibilities now. There were our people to resettle across Canada and then..." Abby hesitated, suddenly aware once more of her surroundings. "There's so much I want to tell you, so much I just can't say... here. I work with the Seniors now, Marc. I'm responsible for every Tomorrow Person on the planet. And in the last few weeks..." Again her voice trailed off in frustration.

"Since John left," Marc supplied quietly. She looked up, startled and upset that the demoralising news had reached so far. As she opened her mouth to reply, he closed the gap that had opened between them. Her eyes had told him everything he needed to know. Quickly he raised a finger to her faceplate as if laying it across her lips. "No, ma chère, don't speak," he warned her quietly. "Even the hospital isn't free of bugs." He looked at her sadly. "I always knew you were destined for great things, Abby. Perhaps I should never have expected this small world of ours to hold your attention."

"It's never out of my mind," Abby told him, willing him to understand. "I fall asleep with the image of this place burned on the inside of my eyelids. I wake dreaming of your dawn call." She shook her head sharply. "But I have to see the bigger picture now. How can I focus on one camp when there are hundreds now, some of them almost as large as this? How can I let concern for individuals rule me when there are millions of us out there, every single one in danger!"

"Oh, Abby, Abby," he laughed softly, reaching to pull her back into his embrace. "Always so idealistic, always so determined. Don't you see? Without people - individual, fallible, insignificant people - the 'Big Picture' is just that: an illusion, a fantasy, a mere shadow of reality." He guided her towards one of the hospital's small windows, and she peered through it at the huts beyond and the small gardens that their residents had eked out of the poor soil. "Could you look at an artist's impression of this and claim to be seeing the truth beyond it? Ma chère, I know that your life is filled with pain, marred by sorrows and stresses that I cannot imagine, but do not lose sight of what it is that makes us what we are." His voice dropped, and she looked up to see him studying their surroundings for anyone who might overhear. "Abby, if John really has gone, ask yourself why. Perhaps he looked at the Big Picture he's been watching for so many years and realised that he had never really seen it before. I don't know what's going on beyond our tall fences, ma chère. I can't - I understand that. Perhaps you still live in a Lab, surrounded by the constant mental comfort of nearby minds that you and I once shared. Perhaps you live elsewhere - in the ivory tower that John and the others have found themselves confined to since the Mass Breakout began. Either way, think on this: why did John, Stephen and the other Seniors seek us out? Did they want us to walk the path they laid out for us? Or did they expect us to find our own, and to guide others along it?"

"I... I...." Abby broke off in confusion, shaking her head. "John led us for so many years. I've been trying to do my best, Marc. I've been trying to do all I can. After the Toronto raid, I was just so confused and so many of our people were still relying on me to be strong. I didn't know what to do. If the Seniors hadn't helped..."

His arm still around her shoulders, he rocked her gently.

"I know, Abby. But you are strong, even if you don't always realise it." He looked seriously into her eyes. "Just think about what I said."

Swallowing hard, Abigail nodded.

"Abby? Marc?" Travin's voice was hesitant and only now did they notice the elder man standing a few metres away. "Marc, I'm so sorry, but the time..." Abby checked her helmet clock instinctively, gasping. Four minutes, that was all they had. "Jimmy's gone to find Kershia." Travin looked between them anxiously. "Abby, the children are aboard. We have to get back to the truck."

Marc's arms fell to his sides and he stepped backwards, despair written across his face. Abby tried to move towards him, her eyes never leaving his face, even when Travin's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Marc, come with us."

He shook his head, his eyes shocked.

"How can you even ask?" He laughed softly and with no trace of humour. "Travin explained what you're doing here tonight. Even if you take the children, I have two thousand others here - relying on me."

"Then I'll stay," Abby declared wildly, her eyes frantic. Marc's expression was unutterably sad.

"And how many more rely on you, ma chère?"

"But I love you, Marc!" The admission was torn out of her, shocking her with its absolute honesty.

"And I love you, Abigail." Marc's eyes and voice were utterly serious now. He reached out a hand towards her, but let it fall before she could touch it. "I always have. And I'll wait. Until we meet again, in better days."

"Abby -" Travin's pull on her arm had become urgent now "- we have to go."

"Abby." Marc's voice stopped her suddenly as she yielded to Travin's insistence and began to turn away. Marc hesitated, as if uncertain how she would react. He looked beyond Abby and Travin, waving a small figure forward from the shadows near the door. Abby froze, remembering the long hours she had spent watching life in this camp and the child who was never far from Marc's side. "Abby, take Thomas with you. He doesn't deserve the life he has to live here."

There was no time for Abby to hesitate, no time to wonder at his compassion for the boy who had destroyed their lives. Just now, she could refuse Marc nothing. She nodded simply, once. And then they crossed the ward, Travin seizing Thomas's arm as they passed. He pulled both woman and child through the hospital's door, both of them stumbling, their tear-filled eyes fixed on the man fading into the gloom behind them.

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

Raid + 18 minutes

Retracting her psi-awareness, Kershia felt the radiation's effects diminish somewhat, and soon managed to gather sufficient strength to stare back angrily at Trent.

He noticed that she was beginning to come to terms with the Barlumin's effects. "Oh no," he said mockingly, "the big, bad man is going to shoot me!" He winked at her before continuing. "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. Death is far too good for the likes of you." He released one of her arms and pulled the quivering limb towards the gun, wrapping her hand around the weapon before he moved it up to his own temple. "You see, Ms Ahren -" he spat the words - "it's down to you and your kind that I've been stuck here in this God- forsaken hell-hole for over a year, and I don't intend to give you such an easy escape from this place as death." He folded her fingers tighter around the butt of the gun, manoeuvred her index finger through the trigger guard and started to squeeze

Realising what he intended, Kershia tried to fight it with all her strength. Trent smirked with pleasure at her affliction. "You, my girl, are going to remain in this Camp for the rest of your miserable life, your brain gradually rotting under the influence of the Barlumin. I'll be long dead and free from this stinking place." He noticed her eyes widen at his words. "I don't mind if I die. What else is there left for me, now? There was a time when my career had potential, when the unending struggle between nation states supplied enough espionage to keep the likes of me, and him in there, happy for a lifetime. But now the two of us are stuck here playing nursemaid to a bunch of genetic misfits. No, I don't care if I die, but I know full well that you do! Especially if I die at your hand." She stared at him in disbelief. "Yes, you heard me. You may not be able to speak, but I know that you understand what I'm saying. Shooting me -" he pressed her finger further onto the trigger "- will release me from stagnation in this place. But after I'm dead, you'll be trapped here suffering a lifetime of mental anguish knowing that you were the one responsible." He sniggered contemptuously. "You see it now, don't you? Your pathetic genetic programming may create a barrier that you dare not cross, but here, now, under my control, your finger is the one pulling the trigger and you are helpless to stop yourself from doing it."

A boot came out of nowhere, kicking Trent in the head and knocking him sideways off Kershia. Stunned by the blow, Trent fell to the ground in a daze and Kershia looked up to see David standing over her. He knelt down and pulled her into his arms. Rocking her gently, he made soothing noises and stroked her hair. All she could do was look out from reddened eyes, unable to fathom his apparent change of heart. "Oh, sweet Kershia!" He trembled as he held her. "What have I done to you? What have we done to your kind? I thought I'd never see you again and wished that somehow a miracle would bring us back together. But now you're here I almost wish you weren't. Will you ever forgive me, my love, for the things I did to you, for firing that shot when all I really wanted was to leave with you? When I realised they were about to break through the barricade I had to do something, and I guess it was the wrong thing, but it seemed logical at the time." He sighed and kissed her forehead tenderly. "I've loathed myself for that one act of betrayal for the past four years. And now you're here, stuck in the Camp. I'm so sorry, really I am. But I'll make it up to you. He's not going to get away with this violation. I saw what he was doing to you. There are rules against that kind of torture, even in here. We're not as barbaric as you think we are. I swear that for as long as you remain here, Kershia, I'll take care of you. I'll never let him touch you again."

While David and Kershia looked at each other longingly, neither noticed Trent recover from his stupor and begin to stand once again. Trent coughed loudly to catch their attention, and David looked up over his shoulder to see him pointing the gun at them both. "Well, well, how touching. Who says you'll have the chance to look after her while she's here, eh? There's only one thing to do with a traitor like you!"

David fixed Trent with a hard stare; he had always known it would come to this. Raising his voice, he ordered Trent to let Kershia go, and was surprised when the man agreed. "This quarrel is between the two of us," said Trent. "When I've dealt with you, I'll be able to do exactly what I want with her... She is quite a lovely creature. I can see why you find her so attractive."

Incensed by Trent's insinuations, David remained calm just long enough to place Kershia gently back onto the ground. Aware that Trent's eyes were fixed on Kershia, he used this slight distraction to lunge suddenly at his old adversary. Trent immediately discarded the gun, relishing the prospect of a no-holds-barred fistfight.

Dropping the masks of tolerance each had suffered to maintain for the past eighteen months, the two men began to wrestle one another aggressively.

All Kershia could do was watch, her body still racked by seizures, as the two men started to brawl. At one point their actions were so frenzied they fell on top of her, then rolled clear and continued to struggle beside her on the cold ground. After a while Trent seemed to have the upper hand, and spotting the gun that he had dropped in David's first attack, he reached out and made a grab for it. While Trent pulled himself upright so that he could take aim at David, Kershia managed one huge effort of will and rolled sideways into his path, causing Trent to fall awkwardly at David's feet. Diving on top of Trent, David immediately grabbed him by the neck.

Though struggling to breathe, Trent still managed to turn his head slightly and look towards Kershia. "Don't worry," he said, "in just a moment we'll be able to rekindle our friendship."

The disgusting suggestion incensed David further, and he increased the pressure on Trent's throat. Tighter and tighter David pressed, fury burning in his eyes, until the man beneath him began to thrash helplessly as the very life was squeezed out of him. With one final barbaric contraction of his strong hands, David strangled Trent.

Panting heavily, stunned by his own actions, David sat back on his heels, staring at the corpse of his superior...

Kershia, all the while, lay helpless, crying inwardly at the horrific scene played out before her eyes.

******

Raid + 24 minutes

After a long, silent pause David looked around him to see if anyone else had witnessed the epic struggle between the Camp's two leaders. Noticing a shimmering figure emerging from the shadows, he was surprised to see Jimmy approaching at a run, stungun in hand, and he realised that Kershia had not come alone to the Camp. David got to his feet, picked her up and walked towards the approaching man. Without a word he placed the still incapacitated Kershia into Jimmy's outstretched arms, forcing him to reluctantly replace the stungun in its holster.

Although he had seen the last few moments of the fight, Jimmy was still uncertain whether this one-time enemy was to be trusted. But time was running out for them all; he had to take the chance. He looked past David at Trent's body lying lifeless on the ground and immediately grasped what had led to this outcome. "Will they blame you for his death?" he asked matter-of-factly, knowing there was no room for sentimentality here.

"I'll think of something. I've got enough authority around here to cover it up. We all knew he was under tremendous strain with his work, so maybe he took his own life. Hanged himself, perhaps?" David shrugged and motioned for Jimmy to leave. "Promise me you'll take care of her." He gave a half-hearted smile.

Jimmy nodded. "I promise. She means a lot to all of us." Slowly he turned and started to walk away. Stopping momentarily, he looked back over his shoulder. Perhaps they had made a new ally here today; only time would tell. "Come with us?" he asked softly.

"You know I can't," replied David.

Kershia struggled to pull herself up so that she could look directly at David. "Why not?" she whispered, her voice almost inaudible.

David looked down at his hands, then at the body of Trent lying a short distance away. "That's why," he murmured. "Because I'm capable of doing that with my own bare hands! I'm not one of you, and after my actions here I realise that I can never be..."

Jimmy turned around and ran back towards the truck, carrying a distraught Kershia weeping softly in his arms. There wasn't time to linger; with just seconds remaining to them, the others would be awaiting his return. Before disappearing around the corner, Jimmy quickly glanced back across the compound. Silhouetted in the light of the doorway, David could be seen pulling Trent's body back inside the administrative building, already preparing for the story that he would tell his superiors later that same day. David is certainly a resourceful man, thought Jimmy as he passed Kershia up into the truck's cab, ignoring the anxious questions of the others. Quickly taking his seat, he counted down the last few seconds before TIM recalled them all.

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

Consequences

Two hours after the Raid

(TIM, could you jaunt us in, please?) The telepathic call rang through his biotronic circuitry, triggering pre-programmed routines that brought Sophie's request to TIM's conscious attention.

(Of course,) TIM told her. With the ease of long practice, he reached back along the telepathic pathway, sensing the jaunting belts that she and her two companions were wearing, and transmitting a power boost to each. Activating the jaunting pad, he guided Sophie, Zoë and Don through the gulf of deep vacuum and into the haven of Luna. They smiled up at his optical receptors as they emerged from hyperspace, tired but buoyed by the sense of victory that pervaded their surroundings. All around the control room Tomorrow People paused, calling cheerful greetings before returning to the array of food and drink TIM had provided. The biotronic computer watched with an internal smile, grateful that the last few of his wandering sheep had returned to the fold after this trying day. "Welcome back."

"Good to be here," Sophie grinned up at him, waving Zoë and Don towards the food as she headed towards the main link table.

"All the kids settled, Sophie?" Jimmy called as she passed the cluster of security agents gathered nearby.

Sophie nodded and sighed, brushing a stray lock of her blonde hair out of her eyes. She waved the palm-sized computer she held towards him, before placing it on the link table. TIM absorbed the information it contained with satisfaction and pride. Carefully he stored the names and current locations of nearly two hundred Canadian children in his database, ready for the day they could be returned to their parents. Sophie and her teams had worked as hard as anyone today, co-ordinating the inter-Lab response to the emergency. Each of the escaping trucks had been greeted by an intense medical effort, easing the significant mental distress that many of the escapees felt. It was only later, long after the security agents had headed off to their well-deserved rest, that the confused and frightened children had been distributed to their new homes.

"We got as many of them as possible settled in Labs close to their old ones," Sophie told the others. "Only a few needed to be moved further afield." She smiled at a memory and her delight was infectious, making the others smile with her. "We even found relatives still free for a few of them. The reunions...!"

Don grinned, raising a glass to toast the cluster of agents as he spoke.

"I still can't quite believe we did it! We actually raided the camps and got away with it!" The tall Canadian stood side by side with Zoë, an arm around the redhead's shoulders. He hugged her exuberantly, pulling her off balance. She gave a shriek before collapsing, giggling, into Don's arms. Their friends laughed along with them, Josh coming to the rescue and catching Zoë's plate telekinetically before its contents could spill to the floor.

"And everything went smoothly at the other reception points?" Sophie directed the question both at the agents involved in the raids and at those of her own people scattered through the partying crowd. She had spent much of the last two hours jaunting between the three sites, smoothing communications, doing her job, but even a Tomorrow Person couldn't be everywhere.

"Like a charm," Stephanie assured her easily. Sophie smiled at her old friend, but it wasn't until a couple of her own communications operatives nodded their agreement that the young woman relaxed, flopping into a chair and summoning a drink telekinetically into her hand.

"My people certainly had some ruffled feathers to smooth," she told everyone, with mischief in her eyes. "I never realised so many people were grouchy when they woke up."

"After being woken in the middle of the night? Dragged into the middle of nowhere with no explanation? Dumped with a couple of hundred screaming kids after just a couple of hours notice?" Cole put on an astonished face. "No! Who would have thought it?"

Sophie chuckled as she remembered the indignant expressions on the faces of Lab Leaders and their staff, confronted with the fait accompli of the camp raids. "If anything, they were most shocked that we'd planned the raid in the first place. I think they needed a little time to get used to the idea that we could actually do something like this! Well, we'll know for next time," she laughed. "And so will they."

"Next time?" The question was asked in a vague and surprised tone.

"Abby!" They clustered around her, cheering and enthusiastic. No one seemed to notice her pale face and dazed expression - no one but TIM and Jimmy. The young man stood at the back of the group, unsmiling, as their friends fêted Abigail.

"So what do we do next?" Josh asked eagerly and others pushed forward to ask the same question. Confidence was flowing through leading TPs now - a confidence that had been lacking since the departure of the Seniors. There was a sense of anticipation in the air; they all knew that they couldn't stop now.

"Abby, we ought to get some of this out into the public domain." Zoë's voice was intent and determined, cutting through the others' questions and quietening them. Her eyes widened as she began to plan out the possibilities and she glanced at Sophie. "Through my online groups, even through the media! If the general population finds out what's been going on in the camps ... if we can get rumours circulating about our success here... it will encourage everyone - not just those still in touch with the Labs."

Abby looked about her in near total confusion, unable to comprehend the jollity. She waved a hand vaguely at Zoë and Sophie. "Whatever you think best," she told them, forcing a smile. She drifted onwards through the crowd as it dissolved into a dozen enthusiastic discussions. With a glance to either side, the heroine of the hour slipped into the sanctuary of her office. TIM's optical sensors followed her, compassion tingeing the pride he felt in the day's achievements.

As Abby disappeared through the door, TIM decided that she needed some privacy and allowed his focus to be drawn back to the gathering. The room was full of cheery conversation, and for the first time in a very long time there was uninhibited laughter. If nothing else, he thought, they all deserve to be happy for a while. Scanning the expressions of the security personnel, communications team, medical staff and newly appointed Seniors, TIM noticed the loud and rather irritated voice of their head of security.

"Lighten up, will you, Jimmy," joked Cole. "This is a party! We did it, remember? We kicked the Saps' arses good and proper."

Jimmy looked at his friend disapprovingly. "I hope your official report of today's events will be rather less colourful and rather more factual."

Ben laughed and took a long swig of his drink. "Don't you ever think of anything but paperwork?" Before Jimmy could reply, Ben rushed on with the animated account of his second visit to Smith's Haulage. "As I was saying before Cole interrupted, Steph left me there for a quick chat with my Dad. How was I to know there were three policemen interviewing the staff in the office? That Miss Van De-whats-'er-name was there too. The look on their faces was a picture. They nearly wet themselves when I jaunted into the room." He burst out laughing and Roger, Josh and Cole followed suit. "So I fanned my stungun around the room and they froze. When Dad came in he found it hilarious. They'd been trying to pin some kind of conspiracy on him, so he was glad to see me, in any case. Then while they were unconscious, I erased their memories of the events in the motorway car park, and hey presto! My Dad's off the hook!"

Jimmy nodded his head slowly. "Well, I can't say that I approve of your methods," he remarked, a grin spreading across his features as he recalled that this was precisely what he had done himself, just the day before. "But it's good to hear that everything worked out okay for your father. I know how great a risk he took by helping us like that."

"Well, thanks, Jimmy." Ben's tone conveyed his relief that their security chief had seen the lighter side of the situation. "But you haven't heard what he said to me before I left, yet." The young man took another gulp of his drink, aware that all eyes were on him and enjoying the attention for once. "I told him how important this raid had been, of all the kids' lives we'd saved. He's always tolerated rather than supported me as a TP, but after today I think he's changed his tune a bit. Before I jaunted out he says, 'If you can bring down this miserable government, son, then I'm on your side. Just remember to lower taxes once you take over...'" The small huddle of agents chuckled. Although they knew that a TP takeover was still many years away, each one felt closer than they had ever known to making that statement a reality.

Noting Jimmy's reluctant smile, Ben looked earnestly at his old friend. "You do see it, don't you, Jimmy? People down there on Earth are beginning to realise that we're about to defeat the Saps. This is the beginning of the end of this miserable war."

TIM scrutinised the faces of each of the security agents. All bar Jimmy looked as if Ben's declaration were a forgone conclusion. Such over-confidence worried TIM enormously. This raid may have been a success, but that didn't mean future missions would meet with such little Sap resistance. Once the governments of the world realised that the Tomorrow People had gone on the offensive, no one knew what measures they might put in place to prevent future victories. Not wishing to spoil the mood, TIM decided that these concerns could wait until after the festivities. He made a mental note to discuss the issue with Jimmy at their next private meeting, then returned his sensors to the conversation.

Stephanie coughed to gain the others' attention. "You're not the only one who got some stungun action today," she began excitedly, adopting Ben's flamboyant narrative style as she recounted her own adventure. "You should have seen Cole and me take on the guards in the Chinese Camp. Jimmy's team were the lucky ones: they had cover of darkness to hide their actions. For us it was the middle of the day. If the guards hadn't been halfway through a shift change, it might have turned out very different!"

"But it didn't," commented Roger, placing an arm around her shoulder. "You took them on and won!"

Stephanie beamed with pride. "You bet we did. While the Doc and the local we had with us as translator loaded the kids from the school into the back of the truck, Cole and I fronted the Camp's entire garrison. Homo superior against a bunch of ruthless killers and we knocked them down as fast as they ran, or fired, towards us. It was like 'Gunfight at the OK Corral'." She paused and caught Jimmy's disapproving stare. "You just had to have been there, " she concluded uneasily.

"Steph, you're a wonder," joked Roger from beside her. "Poet, engineer, car mechanic, truck driver and now gunslinger... Have you ever considered making some man very happy?"

"I have," she winked and the others' jaws dropped at the blatant flirtation between their fellow agents. "But no one has asked me yet."

There was a moment of static in the air as a private thought passed between Roger and Stephanie. Then before anyone could speak Roger rushed on with his own account of the third raid. "We didn't have that much fun, but we saw our own action in the European camp. Mainly from the inmates, I must add. Have any of you ever tried to convey who you are to a bunch of suspicious strangers who don't even speak any English, and without telepathy? It was lucky that one of my team had a GCSE in German!" He chuckled to himself as the memories flashed through his mind.

"I'm sure it will make very interesting reading when you all file your reports in the morning, but this is hardly the time, here and now, in front of..." Jimmy glanced down at Josh, worried by the enthusiasm in his expression. Not wanting to encourage the young man's obvious hopes of inclusion in future missions, Jimmy chose his words carefully. "As I was saying, leave the details for your reports."

They all felt the tension rise as Josh stared at the security leader. "I was there, wasn't I? I did my bit as well as anyone here!"

"Indeed, you did, Josh." Despite his encouraging tone, Jimmy felt the younger man's anger rising. "We are all proud of how well you handled yourself today, especially as you're an amateur apprenticed to Travin, and not officially one of the security force at all."

"What do you mean, eh?" Josh looked in turn at each of the faces gathered before him. "I went on this raid... I proved myself..." His voice trailed off as he took in Jimmy's hard stare. "Are you telling me I can't stay, that you're packing me off back to Canada to spend my time on a farm? How can you do that to me, after all I've done?"

Realising that this conversation could quickly get out of hand, Stephanie intervened to defuse the rising tension. "You don't think we got to where we are today that easily, do you? It took years sucking up to Stephen before Jimmy was allowed out without someone to hold his hand." The entire team fell about, laughing hysterically. All Jimmy could do was stare angrily at Stephanie and acknowledge himself as the butt of her joke.

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

With the party in full swing, TIM turned his sensors inwards to carry out the daily maintenance check for all levels. Noting how well the air compressors were dealing with the demands put upon them earlier that day, he began his checks of all interior and exterior hatches and bulkheads. Coming at last to the topmost level of Luna, he decided to break protocol and look in on the inhabitants.

The Malthus children had been in hibernation pods throughout Luna's construction, and afterwards, when Kershia took over their schooling and general welfare, TIM had had little reason to watch over these strange additions to their community. It had only been in the days since Sanela and Adi's infection that he had chosen to look in on the group of children who inhabited the uppermost level.

Shifting his awareness to the optical receptor positioned in the corner of the dormitory, TIM watched silently as Travin gave Emina Reganovic a final medical inspection. She had been removed from the hibernation tank some minutes earlier and was just beginning to wake.

"What has happened to me?" she asked softly, struggling to lift her head from the pillow. Noticing a face she had only seen once before, she stared at the man leaning over her. "And who are you?" she added indignantly.

"Hello Emina, I'm Travin." He stifled a sigh and endeavoured to adopt his best bedside manner; an aspect of himself that he'd hoped would never be used again. "I'm one of the TP medical team. I live in Canada and rarely come to Luna. I'm sorry about this, but we had to put you and the children into suspended anima..."

"What! The children? What have you done to the children?"

Placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he pushed her back gently onto the bed, and then continued to listen to the old woman's heart. "Please, Emina, remain still while I complete my examination. The children are just fine. We needed to move you all temporarily to the lower level, that's all. And the easiest way to do it was while you were asleep." Putting the stethoscope back into his pocket, he brushed a hand across her forehead, scanning for any neurological damage, then sat down on the small stool beside her bed and sighed.

"What's wrong?" demanded Emina, immediately jumping to the wrong conclusion. "Why did you sigh like that?"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong," he smiled at her warmly. "You've got the constitution of an ox and the heart of a sixty-year-old. I only hope I'm as fit as you when I reach your age." He ran a hand through his thick greying hair. "The children are all okay too; they'll sleep off the effects of the hibernation for another few hours, then wake naturally."

"And what shall I tell them has happened?"

"That's entirely up to you, Emina. Kershia will be able to fill you in with more details when she's feeling a little better."

Emina sat up abruptly, concern for the younger woman evident in her expression. "What's happened to Kershia?" Swinging her legs onto the floor, she stared at Travin accusingly. "We may not see eye to eye about treatment of the children, but I would never wish any harm to befall her."

There was the slight rustling of bed covers from across the dimly lit room. "It's okay, Emina," came Kershia's soft voice. "I'm quite all right. I just got hit by a dose of Barlumin, that's all. I'm still a little shaky at the moment."

"Barlumin! For heaven's sake, girl, where have you been that put you in close contact with Barlumin?"

Standing painfully, Kershia waved for Travin to remain where he was as she forced her aching legs to carry her across to Emina's bedside. "I've been to one of the camps," she said coolly. Noticing Emina's stern features, Kershia realised that she was not about to get further comment from the old woman, so continued her explanation. "The Canadian Camp, to be precise. I can't tell you much more about it at the moment, but the mission was a success." She glanced up into Travin's eyes, knowing how close the raid had in fact come to being a total disaster, and that she was the one responsible for that near cataclysmic outcome. "Please be patient, Emina. It's difficult for me to talk about, just now. But there is something else that I do have to tell you." She glanced around and Emina followed her gaze.

Standing in the shadows at the very back of the room was a teenage boy. He was gaunt and frail, and his eyes looked haunted, as if he didn't quite believe in the reality of what he was seeing. Kershia beckoned the youth forward and he started to approach. As Thomas' still delicate psi-awareness took in the sleeping forms of the other children in the room, a look of intense fear flashed across his face, and he immediately bolstered his frail mental shields, shook his head at Kershia, then ran back into the familiar solitude of the shadows.

"Who is he?" asked Emina, a sudden wave of concern for the frightened boy dismissing her earlier anger. "He must be from the Camp, but why have you brought him here, to us in the upper level of Luna?" Emina's voice trailed off as the realisation hit her. "Unless he's already infected by the virus, of course."

Travin shifted noisily on the small stool. Abby's decision to bring the youth back to Luna had been something he would have argued strongly against, had he been given the choice, but the decision had been made quickly and he, like everyone else, was obliged to go along with their leader's choices.

Emina looked towards Travin questioningly. "What's the matter with you?"

Burying his own concerns, Travin was relieved that in Kershia's current state her telepathy was ineffectual. "It's all right, Emina - the boy is a full TP and although he was exposed to the virus, he no longer carries it in its virulent state."

All Kershia could do was nod silently. The weight of the Barlumin might have been diminishing from her awareness, but the greater burden of who this young man was had only just dawned on her. "Listen to me, Emina. I know that bringing him here is going to cause you a great many problems, but we had no choice. You see, he's Thomas, the Malthus child I left behind at the end of the UK raid. He was being cruelly treated at the Camp." She looked up into Travin's eyes as a wave of guilt swept across her thoughts. "Not just by the guards, but by our own people too. We had to get him out of there and here was the most logical place to bring him. I have confidence in you, Emina. You are the very best person for dealing with both his physical and emotional well-being. There really is nowhere else for him to go. He must stay here, with you, Sanela and Adi. He must be reunited with his brothers and sisters."

Without further comment, Kershia turned towards Travin. "Would you call TIM for me, please? I need to go back to join the others and I don't think I'm able to jaunt without help at the moment."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

She nodded slowly, then stood and dematerialised.

TIM materialised Kershia at one edge of the control room. He watched anxiously as she swayed, steadying herself with one hand on a wall panel.

"Kershia?" Jimmy's hand on her elbow caught her, and his tone was anxious. "Are you okay?"

She shook him off weakly, aware of eyes turning towards them, and he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"Kershia!" Ben called to her, beckoning, "Come join us?" He broke into a grin, the general euphoria carrying him past the damping effect of Jimmy's ill temper. "It worked, Kershia! You were right!"

Kershia's deep brown eyes widened in her pale face as she recoiled from his enthusiasm.

"I ... I..." she stammered, then took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "I'm not stopping," she told them, edging towards Abby's office. "Enjoy the party!"

The rest of the Malthus team hesitated, gazing at their leader as the music and conversation resumed around the room. They had known both Kershia and Jimmy too long not to notice and worry about the uncharacteristic tension.

"What happened, Jimmy?" Steph asked the question for them all. "How was Kershia hurt?"

Jimmy paused, watching Kershia follow her friend into the office. He hadn't spoken about what he had seen in the Camp. With Abby and Kershia both sobbing in the truck, and a load of screaming children to pass on to Sophie and her people, there just hadn't been an appropriate moment at first. By the time they had returned to Luna the two women had escaped him, and then he hadn't wanted to break the mood after the party began. Now his patience was exhausted. He didn't look at the others as he strode towards Abby's small room. "We can talk about it later," he told them shortly.

The side room was dimly illuminated. Neither Abby nor Kershia was in the mood for the laughter and bright lights outside. Abby smiled wanly as Jimmy entered her office close on Kershia's heels, but he did not smile in return. No one expected him to. Watching Kershia ease herself painfully into a chair, he spoke before either of them could do so.

"We were a hair's-breadth from catastrophe today," he told them flatly, looking from one face to another. "And it was your fault!" He took a deep breath, shaking his head to stop Abigail as she began to speak. "No, Abby. I have to say this and I have to say it now. Do the two of you have any idea just how close we came to total disaster on the Canadian raid - on how precarious a knife edge we've balanced?" He waved a hand towards the door, listening to the muted sound of the celebration beyond it. "Out there people are laughing, cheering, believing we've won some spectacular victory. They don't know." He gestured to the desk, the walls, to Luna beyond them. "We came within seconds of losing all this. Do you two have any idea how valuable you have become? Do you realise how much you know - about Luna and elsewhere? If either of you were captured..."

Jimmy shuddered, but forced anxiety for his friends back into its own neat compartment in his mind. He was speaking now as security chief for every Tomorrow Person on the planet; he couldn't shirk that duty. "If either of you had been captured, we would have lost the shield units you were wearing. At least one level of Luna would have been abandoned, the people sent back to take their chances on Earth. Luna itself would have been compromised, subject to Sap attacks - most likely abandoned. Our administrative and command structure would have been shattered, the locations of every Lab in Canada and most other major Labs revealed. The Saps would have found out that the Malthus children were still alive and well, and that we still cannot cure the virus. Project Malthus could have been revived - our only minor victory of this war undone. Our demoralised, dispossessed people would die in a thousand camps, despairing because their leaders had betrayed them. Because we had betrayed them."

He paused, looking at the two shell-shocked faces in front of him. "You knew that and you still placed yourselves in danger, wilfully and unnecessarily. As security chief I argued that you should not risk yourselves and you ignored me. I let myself be talked into it - this time - and what did you do? You, each of you, placed your personal desires above your duty. You risked the mission's success and so, so much more!"

He shook his head. "We're not children anymore, Abby, Kershia. We're not even teenagers like so many of our people. It's a long time now since the three of us were dragged into this whole mess. We're meant to be mature, responsible - stepping into the Seniors' shoes." He paused, a new thought occurring to him. "Perhaps that's even part of the problem. Like John and Stephen, the two of you are becoming autocrats - convinced of your own invulnerability, ignoring the advice of those of us with better training because you believe it's up to you, that you have to do things personally." He took a deep breath. "The Raid was a success. I'm not denying that. The children are safe now and the morale boost will see us all through dark times ahead. I was wrong to oppose you. I even agree that future operations are inevitable and necessary. But if I'm going to plan and carry out future raids for you, you'll have to listen to me - and not risk yourselves again." He shook his head, looking sadly at Kershia. "If David hadn't killed Trent to save you ... "

There was a gasp from Abigail and a second from the doorway. Stephanie stepped into the room, her gaze flickering between the three of them. Jimmy met the shocked expression of his fellow agent and his last few words replayed through his mind. The horrified, self-loathing look in Kershia's eyes broke through his anger and he was once again a friend to the two shaken women in front of him, no longer their angry guardian.

"Jimmy," Stephanie's voice was soft. "Come away. They've had enough for now. You've said enough."

Deflating, concern for his two friends coming to dominate over his dedication to duty, he let Stephanie lead him out of the room.

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

"Kershia?" Abigail's voice was shocked and disbelieving, "What Jimmy said...about David and Trent...?" She trailed off wordlessly, unable to articulate her anxiety.

"Is true," Kershia whispered bleakly. She looked up, her eyes full of tears. "All through the years I've held on to this secret hope. Even without realising it, I always thought that we'd find a way to put the past behind us and be together again. When I saw him today ... and then Trent caught me and ... David strangled him, Abby! Right there in front of me." She shook her head, a single tear escaping and trickling down her cheek. "I could have forgiven him almost anything else."

Abigail listened to the unspoken words between Kershia's broken sentences, then moved around the table to crouch in front of her friend's chair. She looked up into the pale face, her own expression full of mingled horror and compassion, and tried to take Kershia's trembling hands in her own. Kershia pulled away instinctively, wrapping her arms around her chest as if cold.

"Kersh, I'm so sorry," Abby began softly, but Kershia shook off the sympathy and pushed herself to her feet.

"Don't. Don't make this any harder than it has to be." She paused, summoning up her courage. She had to say this now, before she lost her nerve. For the first time she found herself grateful that her telepathy was still numb. This would be difficult enough without the ability to sense Abby's disappointment in her. "I'm leaving."

For a long moment Abby just stared in confused silence. "You want to move to one of the Labs down below?" she asked.

Kershia shook her head sharply, her expression determined.

"Not just Luna, Abby. I'm leaving the Labs altogether. I have to." Her brown eyes slid away from Abby's, refusing to meet her stunned gaze. "Don't you see? I'm jinxed - everything I've ever touched has gone wrong. It was bad enough when the two of us got trapped together on the mountain - if you hadn't kept your head we would both have been killed - but then I led the Malthus raid into a total disaster."

"Kershia - " Abby tried to interrupt, but Kershia pushed on, speaking across her.

"I let Stephen be tortured, I let Thomas escape, I let so many Tomorrow People be captured or killed. I thought that looking after the children would make up for that in some way, but just look at what happened: if I hadn't left the Malthus kids alone that afternoon, then Adi and Sanela wouldn't be trapped up there, their special abilities under constant threat." She gestured towards the ceiling, but went on before Abby could draw breath. "Today ... I was selfish. If I hadn't risked everything just to get that glimpse of David, Trent would still be alive now. Jimmy was right. I placed my own whims and desires above the millions of lives that depend on me. I let everyone down." Her voice dropped so Abby had to strain to hear, and she gazed at the floor so as to avoid looking at her friend. "I've never been happy trapped in a Lab, Abby. Maybe it was just never meant to be and my breakout was a mistake right from the start. As it is ... I've done enough harm already. Who knows what I'm capable of doing next? I can't stay and risk doing more."

She looked up slowly, anxiously. The distant sounds of laughter and music made a bizarre counterpoint to the silence that had met her words. Whatever response she had expected, she was unprepared for the bitter laughter that broke the stillness in the office.

"Selfish?" Abby asked harshly. "What do you think you're doing now if not being selfish, Kershia? Do you think the world revolves around you? You're so keen to claim all responsibility for the Malthus raid. Don't you think Stephen might have something to say about that? Or Jimmy? Or Stephanie? And Adi and Sanela - how is their condition your fault and not mine, or John's? We were responsible for running everything in Luna, the top level included! Or why wasn't it TIM's fault for not watching the shaft they climbed up? Or the Seniors' for designing Luna with that access shaft in the first place? And now you're going to abandon us, just when we need you the most. Just think of how that's going to touch the lives of everyone around you, Kersh. Think of the tasks you'll leave undone all around you. Think of the poor, confused children on the level above who need you more than ever now we've landed Thomas in their laps."

Kershia stared at her friend in disbelief, shaking her head. She paced angrily from side to side, frustrated by the limited confines of the small office.

"You don't understand," she insisted stubbornly, shaking her head. "I'm doing more harm than good just being here. You'll all be better off without me, you just can't see that."

"Oh, Kershia." Abby frowned, irritation making her blunt. "Of course I understand! This is about David - it always has been. You always hoped, always believed, that there was a way forward for the two of you. He's telekinetic, why not dream of him taking that final step and breaking out to join us? After what happened today ... it's not going to happen, Kershia. You can't face that and so you're running away from it! You're leaving because you can't have the man you love. Can't you see how childish that is?" Abby's voice softened, and Kershia, robbed of her empathy, struggled to interpret her tone - angry, upset or just very tired. "Think of how we'll manage here without you, Kershia. If you hadn't spoken today I would never have agreed to this raid, and as Jimmy told us, despite everything that happened it was a fantastic success." But the words caught in her throat when she spoke of everything that had happened and Kershia was startled to see tears streaking down her face too now.

"Abby? Are you all right?" she asked, only now putting aside her own torment and recognising the deep shadows under Abby's red eyes. Distant, confused memories of their return journey from the Camp played through Kershia's mind. Lost in her own pain and without telepathic cues, she had been all but oblivious to anyone else. Even Thomas's presence had been of little interest to her. Now she remembered Abigail's tears and wondered how Marc's young ward had come to be placed in Abby's care.

"All right?" Abby snapped, disbelieving. "No, Kersh. I'm a long way from all right." Abby shook her head. "You weren't the only one whose judgement went awry today." She turned away from Kershia. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps we should both leave. Maybe they'll get on better without the both of us!" She stopped, feeling Kershia's hand on her shoulder, and turned to look into her compassionate brown eyes.

Kershia raised her other hand in front of her in a gesture Abigail recognised. "I know I'm not at my best, but I'll give it a try if you will," Kershia said softly. Abby's breath caught in her throat. Hesitantly, she raised her own hand, palm forward, accepting the mind meld that Kershia was offering.

Guilt. It flooded the meld, almost washing away the pain of Kershia's abused mind. It surrounded them, united them. Together they shared the moments when they had abandoned their mission for the men they loved. Marc's image and David's mingled in their thoughts, the contrast between them never so obvious as it was at this moment. There were random images of Trent too, his eyes blazing as Kershia struggled beneath him, but even this trauma paled into insignificance beside the deeper hurt in Kershia's psyche. Again and again, a single scene replayed through her mind, slipping into Abigail's:

("Why not?" Kershia whispered, her voice almost inaudible. David looked down at his hands, then at the still body of Trent. "That's why. Because I'm capable of doing that with my own bare hands! I'm not one of you, and after my actions here I realise that I can never be...")

(And he's right.) Kershia admitted softly, horror and revulsion shaping her thoughts, (But I can't help caring for him still. Which is why I have to go.)

Abby found her own memories stirring in response. No single image but a multitude of mental snapshots: Marc, with grey in his hair and bitter reproach in his eyes - ("And yet you left us here, Abby. Don't tell me that this raid wouldn't have been possible a year ago...You abandoned us.") Marc declaring his love for her - ("And I love you, Abigail. I always have. And I'll wait. Until we meet again, in better days.") Marc laughing gently as he laid bare the follies of her life - ("Oh, Abby, Abby. Don't you see? ... The 'Big Picture' is just that: an illusion, a fantasy, a mere shadow of reality.") And finally, above this cacophony, her own voice, desperate to bridge the gap between them - ("Marc, come with us." He shook his head, his eyes shocked. "Then I'll stay.")

For the briefest of moments the link fell silent, then Abby forced her final thoughts through the Barlumin-soaked pathways of Kershia's mind. (I would have stayed,) she whispered, ashamed of herself. (I would have abandoned everyone and everything for his sake. And he told me to leave. I was so caught up in the 'Big Picture' I lost track of the details that made life worth living. Marc showed that to me and then took away the only detail that mattered, just moments later. You think you have reasons to leave, Kersh? Believe me, I have too.)

There were no words after that - just sensation as Abby and Kershia shared the painful truths. Marc's deep criticism of the way they had been running the Tomorrow People echoed through the meld, in addition to the resonance of Jimmy's censure. Their self-reproach was shared too, and with it their mutual understanding of the other's decision to leave, then, at long last, the dismissal of one another's guilt.

As the silence lingered between them Kershia withdrew from the strain of maintaining the mental link. Standing silently holding Abby's outstretched hands, she felt compelled to say something to ease the increasing tension. "So I suppose we ought to be going then," she announced in a level tone that was at odds with the hurt and rejection in her eyes.

"I suppose so," Abby replied, her voice betraying the strain she felt. As she said the words, memories flooded her awareness; memories of the day back in Hawaii when they stood together, neither wanting to say goodbye. The path that had led to this moment had been a long one, but in Abby's mind it had begun the day they each set out to climb Mount Mauna Loa.

Her words had also rekindled Kershia's memory of those hallowed times. They had parted that day with their precious secret intact, neither realising that the other was a TP - a kindred spirit. And now, all these years later, they were willing to put all that they had learned aside, just because of a few self-indulgent mistakes. Suddenly the absurdity of the situation struck Kershia and she began to chuckle. "Go where, exactly?" she asked, the amusement coming as a welcome release from the day's trials.

"I was under the impression that we'd decided to leave Luna, to leave the Tomorrow People for good," replied Abigail, her tone becoming indignant in response to Kershia's apparent humour.

"Had we?" Kershia paused, squeezing her friend's hands warmly. "Like two naughty schoolgirls we're going to run away in the night. And where exactly would we go to once we leave here? That is, if we could get past Jimmy and TIM and actually manage to jaunt away."

Without warning Abigail's stress gave way to Kershia's infectious humour and the relief was almost overwhelming, like the sun returning after a storm. Recognising the foolishness of their previous decision, Abby smiled. Slowly at first, then with greater enthusiasm, she began to chuckle. "You're right... Jimmy was right... even Marc was right. There are better days ahead. This raid was a success, the first success we've had in a long time and we were about to give it all up!" Abby shook her head determinedly. "It's time we stopped wallowing in our own self-pity and started to plan for the future. As you said to me once before, Kersh, Pelé can be very cunning, very cunning indeed. She has found a way of making us face our fears, but as always she left a light at the end of the tunnel. We have both learned from the journey that brought us here, so who are we to throw all that away?"

Kershia smiled. "Well, listen to you - all this talk of goddesses and spiritual journeys. Anyone would think that Abigail Rollinde, the hard-nosed politician, had gone soft in her old age."

"Perhaps I have, Kersh... perhaps I have."

TIM, watching and listening from the remote sensor in the corner of the office, felt a wave of relief pass through his biotronic circuitry. His deep concern for the two young women was washed away by the sound of their combined laughter. As they released each other's hands and turned around they were surprised to notice the door slide silently open.

"If you are looking for somewhere to go, may I suggest that you join the party before Josh eats all the food?" TIM said calmly.

Jollied by TIM's words, a flash of understanding passing between them, they linked arms and strode out into the welcoming chatter of the Command Centre.

The End