Part 0 and Prologue

Kinetic Energy

Metastable Equilibrium

Paradigm Shift

Epilogue

United Nations General Assembly, New York.
28th March 2022
2.00 p.m. Local Time: 7.00 p.m. Luna Time (GMT)

The semicircular hall spread in front of Abby and Kershia. Tiers of seats climbed towards the distant ceiling, many of them rising above the level of their heads, so that they stood in the centre of a vast amphitheatre like gladiators of old. Every seat was full and every eye on the pair of them, or so it seemed, a hush spreading through the crowd.

(We who are about to die salute you,) Kershia murmured in Abby's mind, the gladiatorial analogy clearly filling both their thoughts.

Abby sent a brief flash of anxious amusement as they waited for the reaction to their appearance. They both knew what disaster their shared impulse could lead to, or what glory!

They took a step back in surprise as the crowd's stunned silence was washed away in a sudden roar of reaction to their arrival. Delegates shouted, although whether in approbation or approval was unclear, as the people in the auditorium rose to their feet in one huge coordinated thunderous movement. From the side of the podium a group of security guards rushed towards them, and even more hurried to surround the Secretary General, eager to protect him from the dangerous intruders.

There was a flurry of activity as Cole and Ben jaunted in behind Kershia and Abby. The two TP agents met Abby's eyes as she turned to look at them, both faces unsmiling, but safely blank.

(We'll handle the guards. You just get this sorted out.) Cole kept his thoughts neutral, focussing his telekinesis beyond Abby and around the advancing UN guards - who paused in confusion as they found themselves in suddenly viscous air.

Ben was not so restrained in his shielding. (And you'd better do it quickly,) he snapped, a note of fear rippling through his mind.

Turning to face the auditorium once again, Abby realised that the security guards were moving increasingly slowly, as if wading through treacle. She was equally aware that the conference delegates had noticed the swift incapacitation of the security personnel, causing tensions in the room to increase rapidly.

(Speak to them,) urged Kershia, reassuringly. (Show them what we're made of!)

With the spell of the moment broken, Abby nodded, moving to the Secretary General's side, putting herself in the range of the microphone on the speaker's podium. "Everyone remain calm!" She imbued the words with all the urgency and command at her disposal, cutting through the hubbub and bringing silence to the hall. She looked towards the Secretary General where he stood beside her, ignoring the three Tomorrow People and the trapped guards, speaking directly to him. "Mr Secretary General, we apologise for interrupting your opening remarks, but you spoke of a resolution, of human rights and the nature of what it means to be human. You spoke of cooperation, of working together to find a new destiny for all the people on Earth. Sir, whether you realise it or not, we are here at your invitation. We have come as representatives of our people, to give a voice to the voiceless in the debate that will decide our future."

Slowly, the man shook himself free of his bodyguards, his face a mask of surprise and concern. Raising a hand, he called off the guards and they fell back to the edges of the stage, Cole and Ben letting them go.

Every eye was on the Secretary General now, Abby's included. Everything depended on his response. The experienced diplomat projected his voice like an actor, making sure he was heard in every corner of the assembly hall. "The resolution I spoke of has not been debated, let alone passed." There was a murmur of indignant agreement from the assembled delegates and the Secretary General looked sternly around the hall, suppressing the outburst. "Nonetheless, I recognise the claim of the Tomorrow People to representation in the discussion." He frowned and spoke across the surprised reaction. "How can we be sure that you speak for others?"

"Three years ago the Headquarters of the Tomorrow People in the City of Toronto was raided in a night of fire and pain. My name is Abigail Rollinde, and until it was destroyed, I was joint leader of that Lab. You will be able to confirm that much from your records." She looked the Secretary General in the eye, hoping and trusting that what she was about to say was true. "Since then I have watched Tomorrow People the world over suffer the trials that we in Canada experienced first. Our different centres of operation work almost autonomously now, but we have always had a few more senior Tomorrow People overseeing our simple effort to survive. I speak for all the Tomorrow People now." She hesitated, aware of a slight quiver of doubt in her voice. Was she really speaking on behalf of the millions of TPs worldwide? Had she made the right decision when she jaunted into this forum to represent Homo superior? The sudden doubt shook her resolve, and Abby tore her eyes away from the Secretary General's intense gaze.

Calmly, Kershia's thoughts touched hers with unreserved support. (We're with you, Abby, and so is everyone else. You must believe that.)

A moment later, she felt Cole and Ben offering their own reassurance. (We know that you do your best for everyone's sake. You always have, Abby.)

(But there are millions of Tomorrow People out there who have never met me... Do I deserve to stand here and speak for them?) Held rigid by her own uncertainty, Abby looked around the auditorium, as if she would find inspiration within the mass of faces now hanging on her every word.

Glancing up at the TV cameras spread around the back of the huge hall, Abby knew that through this medium she was addressing many more than the few hundred delegates present. By coming here today she had gone out on a very narrow and precarious limb. Now she had to follow her instincts at all costs. This was neither the time nor place to be faint-hearted; the knife-edge upon which all their lives balanced could not be tipped by cautious procrastination. With sudden realisation, Abby understood that she alone must take the risk that no other TP would be willing to take. Looking directly at the closest camera, Abby opened her mind completely and posed a simple question. (Strange weather we're having?)

Slowly at first, then with ever-increasing intensity, Abby felt the impact of her appeal. From the unconscious depths of those with the implanted phrase a response arose, and that response was passed instantaneously from mind to mind, touching those who had been too scared to ever visit a Lab or even to reveal who and what they actually were. Like ripples on a pond, the waves of support and acceptance spread ever wider, touching the minds of TPs both near and far. Slowly the murmur became a roar in her mind as the response echoed back towards the assembly building. (Soon the dragons will blow it away...) There were more minds here than Abby had ever dreamed of, and that knowledge alone reassured her that the chances she had taken with her life - with all their lives - had been worth it.

There was certainty in her face and in her voice as she looked down again, her eyes on the General Secretary's face. "I speak for all the Tomorrow People on Earth. You just have to believe me when I tell you that."

The Secretary General hesitated, hearing the conviction in her voice and reading it in her body language. "I had heard of an incident in Toronto," he said neutrally. He held the eye contact she had initiated, nodding slowly. Abby nodded in return, some of her nervous energy draining from her as she realised that this first minor battle was won. The General Secretary smiled slightly as he went on formally. "Ms. Rollinde, I believe that you speak for your people, and more than that, I believe that if you didn't, then the leaders of which you speak would have acted by now to stop you. Therefore I formally welcome you and your associates to this meeting."

Almost immediately, the hall erupted into a melee of angry shouts, forcing all those on the stage to step back in surprise.

(Well, you certainly know how to get the world's attention, but do you appreciate the damage you just did to the safety of those who you claim to represent?) Jimmy's voice in her mind was coldly furious. Abby's eyes scanned the room, desperately trying to pick out her head of security from his concealed position amongst the crowd. (It's too late to worry about me, Abby,) he continued scathingly. (You've been disregarding my advice for the past two years, putting yourself and Kershia into situations you knew were potential death traps. Not satisfied with jeopardising just your own safety, you're now happy to risk the lives of every Tomorrow Person on the planet.)

Ignoring Jimmy's angry outburst, Abby turned back towards Kershia, Ben and Cole. (Before Nova left, he told me that at the crucial time I was trusted to make the right choices, for all our sakes, and I'm asking you to do the same.)

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

Stephanie felt Josh's hand tense against hers and sent a burst of reassurance through the link. The young man's face was tight with anxiety and the strain of maintaining the long-distance mental contact, just as Stephanie knew her own must be. Below their hands, the surface of the link table glowed white as TIM entwined his mind with theirs, boosting and focussing their power.

In those first frantic moments, when Ben, Cole and Jimmy had followed Abby and Kershia, forcing TIM to boost power to their belts for fear of losing them in hyperspace during the long jaunt, when the rest of them had dived instinctively for the link table to find out what was happening, there had been no time for thought. Now, as they watched the scene in New York unfold, fear and a curious exhilaration were filling Luna's leaders, both on Earth and up here on Luna. Fear that Kershia and Abigail's impulsive action might misfire, exhilaration that it might just work. Whichever happened, the one certain thing was that there was no going back.

The rush of euphoria that accompanied the global response to Abby's appeal had lifted them all. Jimmy's harsh words had brought them, suddenly and forcibly, back down to Earth. Looking up from the white surface of the link table, Stephanie met Roger's angry frown with one of her own.

(Jimmy shouldn't talk to her that way!) Josh's thought was upset, and his face was flushed with excitement. Beside him at the link table, Travin appeared calmer than his young ward, but his thoughts were in turmoil, anxiety warring with a grudging respect for the nerve the young women had shown.

(We ought to go there,) he said simply. (We might not have done it like this, but they need our support now.)

Stephanie reacted quickly, her hand moving to grasp Josh's and prevent him jaunting. (Wait!) she told both men urgently. (We're needed here too.) She opened her mind more fully to them, forcing them to focus on the telepathic murmurs that echoed back to them from TIM. (Can't you hear them? Can't you hear the Labs calling for reassurance? TIM can't handle them all. We have work to do, Travin, Josh, and we're not going to be able to do that on worldwide television!)

Roger looked up sharply, shaken into action by Stephanie's words.

"I'll get my people moving up here," he told her, mentally pulling away from the link as he lifted his hands from the table's surface.

Stephanie nodded, frowning. With Abby and the others down below, just how much danger was the Luna complex in? John and the Seniors had believed that here on the dark side of the Moon they'd have time to respond to any attempt the Saps made to attack their sanctuary. But John and the others had never envisaged a hive of five thousand people packed away up here. They never dreamed of bunk-lined corridors and people sleeping between the huge engines that kept Luna supplied with light and life, nor of a procedure that now reckoned on hours or even days, rather than minutes, for its complete evacuation. If the Saps launched a rapid assault now, there would be little the Tomorrow People could do - but there were plans nonetheless and all Stephanie could do was stick to them.

"Make sure our contingencies for evacuating Luna are in place, Roger," she ordered sharply. "Just in case. Ignore Jimmy for now - I'll talk to him. Make sure your people know that we're all together in this. We need to reassure the people in the lower levels, not scare them more."

Josh was looking at Stephanie, frustration written across his face. Stephanie shook her head sharply at him. "Josh, I know you want to be down there, but you've been on missions with us. You know that there are times we have to do things we don't want to. Abby and Kershia are counting on us to keep things running."

Travin nodded, accepting but not liking the practicality of Stephanie's reaction. He sat back from the table, running a hand through his greying hair with an excess of nervous energy and placing the other reassuringly on Josh's shoulder. "What do you want us to do, Stephanie?" He watched as a flurry of rapid thoughts passed across Stephanie's face before she came to a decision, voicing it in clipped and efficient tones.

"TIM's been fielding calls from other Labs - take over. I don't want TIM distracted. Get Don up here to help, and Sophie and Zoe too. We need to reassure the major Labs, and to make sure they're ready for whatever might come of this."

"Are we ready ourselves?" Travin asked seriously.

"I don't even want to think about that one. Just tell them to make sure their people are safe. TIM, you've got a fix on Abby, Kershia and the others?"

"Of course," the biotronic computer responded in a tense voice.

Stephanie glanced up at TIM's hemispheres suspended above them and spared him a quick smile. "I knew we could count on you. Just keep in touch with them. If anyone throws a Barlumin grenade in there, they're sitting ducks." She studied the faces around her one by one. "Is everyone clear?" She glanced up at the viewscreen, where the Secretary General was still trying to calm the Assembly's response to his decision, and where lawyers were now gathering around Abby and the others, trying to provide them with the paperwork necessary to register their delegation. Things were calming down, an unsteady balance attained. "Then let's get to it!"

*****

Roger and Stephanie left the table together, leaving Josh and Travin intent on their telepathic conversations. Roger threw an arm briefly around Stephanie's shoulder, giving her a quick half-hug before striding decisively towards the door. Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself, taking a moment's reassurance from the gesture before shaking herself. She had things to do.

Quickly, she moved to the nearest of the control room's other link tables, needing the extra power the devices provided, but not wanting to disturb Travin and Josh as they called in reinforcements. Stretching out through the telepathic boosters in the table, Stephanie let her mind drift through the stormy seas of Luna, riding its hopes and fears as she searched for a few familiar presences amid the throng. Her security team responded to her mental touch with alert minds, all of them already assembled elsewhere on the control level, equipped with stun guns and ready for her call. With a quick thought, Stephanie told them to stand by, and then her mental touch moved onwards. She frowned, searching harder. Since they had been forced into positions of responsibility, requiring them to share their more active duties, she'd become as accustomed to working telepathically with Jimmy's security team as with her own. Now she was acutely aware that their minds were absent from Luna.

Drawing more deeply on the link table's power, Stephanie cast her mind further afield, straining to scan the distant UN building without support from the others. It was hardly a surprise when she sensed first one of Jimmy's team, and then another, and then the rest, deployed in the UN building. Frowning, she picked up telepathic contact with her own agents, assigning them positions amidst the crowds that surrounded the distant edifice, before calling Luna's third and fourth security teams onto standby.

With quick, analytic thoughts, Stephanie surveyed the defences she and Jimmy had built up around Abby, satisfied with the knowledge that they could not be better, frustrated in the knowledge that, if something did go wrong, they would almost certainly not be enough. Resigned but confident she'd done her duty, Stephanie gave in to the nagging concern that she had kept hidden from all the security agents under their command. Her hands pressed against the glowing surface of the link table, she reached out with a focussed and well-shielded touch.

(Jimmy?)

His thoughts were angry, his mind closed against her.

(You just worry about things up there, Steph. Leave me to deal with the situation down here.)

(Can I trust you to do that? When you can't even hold your own temper?) Stephanie's question was blunt. (I agree - Kershia and Abby should have discussed this with us first. But even I can see that there just wasn't time. The Seniors trusted them, Jimmy. John and Stephen left Abigail in charge - whether they said so explicitly or not. We've trusted them in the past ourselves.)

(And they've ignored us in return!)

Stephanie could almost see the indignant expression on Jimmy's face. (That's not true, Jimmy, and you know it!) she snapped. (How many times in the last year has Abby approved a plan that one of us has come up with? How many times has Kershia sat down with us to hammer out the details of a raid? Good grief, Jimmy, they even sent Alex out alone - because we insisted that it was necessary!)

(Don't lecture me, Steph,) Jimmy warned, his anger turning towards her now. (I'm not the kid I was when we went on the Malthus raid. I don't need you to be my conscience any more!)

Stephanie was silent for a while, surprised and concerned that Jimmy had finally articulated a side to their friendship that had always remained unspoken in the past. (That's for you to judge, Jimmy, but perhaps you don't know yourself as well as you think you do. You're angry, yes. I am too. But aren't you the least bit relieved? Relieved that Abby and Kershia have finally taken a step that you or I could never have done? I know I am.) Stephanie sighed, watching through Jimmy's angry eyes as the Secretary General called for a recess and Abby and Kershia stepped from the dais, Ben and Cole close behind them. (They know the risks. They're not taking this chance lightly or irresponsibly. Be angry with the situation, Jimmy, angry with the world. Don't be angry with Abby and Kershia. They're doing what they can. More than they have to. Just like the rest of us.)

The flickering light of the television screen cast shadows across the deep lines of David's face. He sat unmoving in his dimly lit office, his gaze locked to the screen as it had been throughout this long day. He watched as the Secretary General formally thanked Abigail and the Tomorrow People for their input before closing the Special Assembly. Disbelief and confusion left a foul taste in his mouth and he swallowed hard, trying to clear it. How could this be happening? How could it have come to this?

He had been so sure, once. Homo sapiens wouldn't go the way of Tyrannosaurus rex or the other dinosaurs. After ten millennia of mastery over their planet, how could they? But he had been wrong about so many things in the last ten years.

Political commentators, nameless talking heads, replaced the view from the assembly hall on the screen and David scrambled for the remote control with an expression of distaste. He didn't have to be told about the riots and civil unrest that were springing up amidst a frightened populace worldwide. He didn't need to listen to others analyse a situation they knew nothing about. They couldn't tell him anything he didn't know. His hands were stiff with cramp, and only now did he realise that he had been clenching and relaxing his fists in unconscious physical memory. He shuddered and closed his eyes in an attempt to dispel the unwelcome echoes of the past. Instead they redoubled, a woman's face, and the memory of what he had done to her and for her, filling his mind. His eyes had drunk in every aspect of Kershia's appearance as she stood behind Abigail Rollinde on the stage. Just seeing her, standing there nervous but determined, had made his body ache with a chaotic mixture of emotions, memories and desires. He shook himself, his whole body spasming in protest as he shifted in his seat for the first time since early that morning.

He had no regrets. How many times had he tried to tell himself that in the last year? He and Kershia had chosen different paths, and there was no way back now. After what Abigail and Kershia had just done, there would be no way back for any of them.

Suddenly David was aware of the evening shadows filling the wooden hut which housed his office. He stood and strode to the window, gazing out over the barren ranks of huts with a stoic face, his moral struggle hidden deep within. The Camp was almost silent, the few inmates still fit enough to form work parties driven inside by the biting arctic winds that swept across Canada's northern wastes. Two thousand Tomorrow People were dying in the Camp, slowly but surely. Almost a hundred soldiers guarded them, hardly less prisoners than the inmates themselves. And not one of them knew what David had just seen.

The only television in the Camp was here in the Commander's office, just one legacy amongst many of Trent's arrogance and self-indulgence. How would the people here react if they knew what was going on in the wider world? Pausing as he turned to pace the small room, David placed a hand on the pile of paperwork on his desk as if he could absorb its contents by touch alone. Medical reports on the TPs, complaints against supply shortfalls, disciplinary reports for mistreatment of the prisoners made against soldiers under his own command; all part of Camp life, all doubtless about to change.

David slumped into his chair and then raised his eyes slowly from his desk, gazing into nothing as his thoughts raced. Abigail had led the TP delegation. How long would it be before this Camp, his Camp, felt the full glare of the media spotlight? How long before the local authorities reacted, issuing orders David couldn't ignore? And what would happen when they did?

Marc would be the key. The TP leader had been the target of Trent's sadistic madness and David had allowed it. Marc knew more of what had happened in the Camp than anyone else - and what he didn't know, he must suspect. How much would he say? Even after three years, David felt he hardly knew the quiet and self-possessed Canadian. Did Marc have what it took to tip the balance one way or the other? What difference could one man's testimony make - if he was the right man in the right place? What would such a testimony mean for David himself?

He shook his head sharply. Whatever the risks, Marc couldn't be left in the Camp. Not now, not with so much at stake.

With quick, precise movements, David drew a sheet of headed paper from his desk and uncapped his pen, writing swiftly. It took half an hour to phrase his orders in a manner no one could claim to misinterpret, and he stared at them for long minutes before signing and dating the final sheet. Standing decisively, he sealed the orders into an opaque envelope, writing the name of his second in command on it, and strode from the office.

**********

"Major Barton?" The officer had to shout to be heard over the noise of the rotors. "The helicopter you requested has arrived, Sir!"

David gave the man an annoyed look, but let the matter pass. Some of these men had never been more than the slovenly bullies he saw in the Camp, but others had once been much more. The tedium and poor conditions here had robbed them of their self-respect and sense of devotion to their duty. If stating the obvious when life threw a little excitement their way was the worst they did, then David could let it go without comment.

With a one-handed tug at the jacket seams, David straightened his uniform, holding his hat in place against the downdraft with the other hand. At his hips, the familiar weight of his sidearm on one side was counterbalanced by the Barlumin emitter that mirrored it, the once rare weapon now simply a part of his uniform.

"Is the prisoner...?" His voice trailed off as he saw the small party moving up between the huts. Marc was between two soldiers, half carried by them as they frogmarched him through the mud of the Camp. Many of the TPs they had captured in that first raid were weak now, as the cumulative effects of Barlumin poisoning mounted. Marc wasn't alone in often needing support even to stand these days. The Canadian TP looked up as they neared the thunderous presence of the helicopter, his expression alert despite the look of pain that never left his eyes.

"David? A helicopter?" Marc shook free of his guards as they paused in front of the base commander, staggering a few steps forward before stopping, forced to put all his concentration into simply standing upright. He looked into David's eyes, a frown on his face as he studied the other man's guarded expression. "What is it? What's happened?"

David looked away, unwilling to meet Marc's eyes today of all days. "Put him in the helicopter," he ordered shortly.

"David?" Marc struggled weakly as the guards seized his arms once again and pulled him away. There was fear in his voice now. "Wait! Where are you taking me?"

David turned his back on the Tomorrow Person, turning towards his second in command.

"Sir," the man said a little nervously, "I have to ask where you're taking the prisoner. There's paperwork...."

"Need to know, Captain." David told him shortly. "And you don't." He glowered ominously and once again his hands clenched themselves into fists. The captain took a quick step backwards. Trent's legacy again, David thought grimly. These men had grown accustomed to their commander's sudden and irrational rages. In the year since ... since David had taken command, he had given them little reason to think he was any more stable. He held up a hand to stop the other man's protest, and pulled the sealed envelope from his jacket pocket. "These are your orders. If you don't hear from me within twenty-four hours you are to open this envelope and act upon the instructions inside, without hesitation. Do you understand?"

He waited long enough to see the captain's quick nod, no longer, and turned towards the helicopter and Marc. He'd given up a normal life. He'd given up life in the country he loved. He'd given up Kershia. All his life he had made sacrifices to protect what he believed to be right. Now he and Marc were about to find out, at last, just how far he was willing to go.

**********

BBC Late Evening News, Live Broadcast, New York - 28th March 2022

The BBC correspondent held a hand across his earpiece, straining to pick out the words from London above the din of the crowd. "Yes... yes. The situation has stabilised somewhat over the past hour." He glanced over his shoulder. "As you can see, the protestors have been moved away from the front of the building now, separated and dispersed by police on horseback and the National Guard with water cannons. There are two distinct factions present here. On my right are those who oppose the UN Secretary General's acceptance of the Tomorrow People. This group is demanding their immediate removal from the chamber and for Homo superiors to be declared forfeit of all human rights and privileges under law. There is also a sizeable group on my left who wish to show support for the TP delegation, claiming that the Tomorrow People are protected by the UN's Declaration of Human Rights. These people are determined that the United Nations abide by their own rules and regu..." There was a sudden roar from the crowd and the reporter looked about him anxiously before continuing his report. "... lations. I had the opportunity to speak with some of the protestors earlier and the general consensus from both sides is that, whatever happens at this Special Assembly meeting, it will form a blueprint for future worldwide policy. Even the local law enforcers agree that we are witnessing a pivotal moment in Earth's history, and that scenes like those witnessed outside the UN headquarters today are likely to continue until the meeting concludes later this week. This is Robert Read reporting for the BBC..."

********

TIM flicked through his many internal sensors, each showing a different view of the vast Luna complex, and gave a silent sigh. At this time of day there was usually a buzz of excitement in the corridors of the underground complex. Technicians assigned the dayshift would be completing their varied duties and returning to their allotted bunks, groups would be queuing in the refectory areas for the evening meal, and children would be settling down in the overcrowded passageways to sleep. But today things were very different. The halls and corridors, which usually heaved with humanity, were silent. A formidable hush had swept through the base as news of Abby and Kershia's unprecedented actions spread on the telepathic grapevine. It had not taken long for huge crowds to gather in the communal areas equipped with TV monitors, everyone eager to witness first-hand as their leaders set the world to rights. And while Luna's inhabitants watched the UN, TIM watched them, painfully aware of the social fallout that this political step could bring to TPs throughout the world below.

The stillness of shared anxieties washed through the minds of Luna's inhabitants as they watched the screens, which displayed all manner of news broadcasts. Here was a community held on the cusp of a new way of life... a unique society who, without even knowing it, were sharing their hope for a better tomorrow with one another at a deep and unconscious level. TIM no longer doubted that the Tomorrow People were ready to take the step beyond the confines of their restrictive environment. He knew that his guidance was no longer as important as it had been to John, Elizabeth and those who came before. He would always be here to offer advice when called upon, but such times had passed. Abby had taken decisive action, and now it was up to her and Kershia to follow it through to its conclusion.

Turning at last to the monitor in the Command centre, TIM took a fraction of a second to study the intent faces of those still remaining. Satisfied that he was not likely to be called upon in the immediate future, he turned his attention outwards and away from the cold, barren satellite that had been their home for these past three years. Whatever happened on Earth would happen without his intervention. As unsettling as the scenes in New York were, he was more worried by events occurring on the distant side of the Galaxy.

And those events were of greater significance than anyone on Luna had yet realised.

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

Luna Command Centre, 28th March 2022 - 11 p.m. Luna Time.

The very air that they breathed was thick with a strange mixture of anger and anxiety. Although outwardly they appeared to be watching the 'Newsnight' programme, in reality none of their minds could quite focus on the discussion in progress before them in the television studio. Each wore a blank expression like a mask as they wrestled their internal demons, each trying to come to terms with the day's events.

On the screen the presenter was just rounding off the show, thanking her many esteemed guests from the world of science and politics alike, and summing up the unexpected events at the United Nations Assembly earlier that day. "And I'm sure that tomorrow's meeting will be still more extraordinary than today's," she commented, smiling at the people sharing the desk with her. "The rest of the 'Newsnight' team and I will be back tomorrow evening to reflect further upon these remarkable events. With a five-strong delegation of Tomorrow People formally invited to attend, and the controversial resolution that they be allowed to join the United Nations as a recognised political force open for debate, there are bound to be some sparks flying in the assembly hall." The presenter's face suddenly became very earnest, her tone sombre. "And to all of you watching tonight: I urge that you remain calm. Whether you are for or against this resolution, Homo sapiens or indeed Homo superior, there is really no need to panic. There may be unsettling reports of violent unrest in many countries, but there is no need for this action. Our duly elected representatives will resolve the current crisis and restore order to the world, I'm sure of it! And on that thought, I wish you all a peaceful goodnight."

Travin sighed heavily. "Well, I'm glad someone had the sense to call for calm." He scratched his forehead absent-mindedly, hiding his concerns from the others. "The world seems to have gone mad since..." Looking up, he caught Kershia's eye.

"Since Abby and me shook it up?" She looked about the group in an attempt to judge their individual feelings. Their underlying telepathic contact was awash with angry indignation and fearful astonishment, but each individual's personal shielding was such that Kershia could not gauge which emotion belonged to whom. Even Abby had remained closed off from her since their return from New York a few hours before. Angered by the wall of silence, Kershia continued irritably, "All right, I know what we did was sudden, but it really was the next logical step for us to take. Abigail and me couldn't just sit here and let them discuss our people without getting involved ourselves." Her voice began to lose its resolve. "I'm sorry that we shocked you all, but it was..."

Abby leaned across the link table and placed her hand on top of Kershia's. "It's all right, Kersh. We don't need to justify ourselves."

"Huh!" exclaimed Jimmy, almost tripping over as he launched himself from his chair and stepped away from the group. "You still don't get it, do you?"

"Jimmy!" Stephanie's tone was harsh, as if scolding a child.

Raising her hand to call for calm, Abby looked across at Stephanie. "It's okay, Steph, let him have his say. Both Kershia and I respect his opinion." She glanced at Travin, Josh, Cole, Roger, Sophie and Ben in turn. "All of your opinions... We wouldn't be doing our job properly if we didn't listen to everyone's point of view on this."

Jimmy swung around and looked intently from Abby to Kershia, and back again. "That's precisely it!" he snapped. "You never listen!"

Running a hand through her dishevelled hair, Abby sighed as she looked compassionately at Jimmy. "Well, we're listening now, aren't we?"

There was a moment of silence, all eyes studying the enraged figure of their head of Security. Jimmy stared down at his feet and then, almost as if he'd won an internal conflict, he strode across to join them at the link table once again. "As head of Security, I've been warning you for years of the danger inherent in putting yourself in these vulnerable situations." Abby nodded, but remained quiet. "First of all you defy me by insisting on joining camp raids, next you go off on your crusade to recruit UN officials sympathetic to our cause." He sighed. "Then today you both jaunt into the UN assembly itself. If those guards had shot you..." The whole group murmured as they echoed the sentiment. "If they had captured and tortured you as they did Stephen...but that wasn't enough for the two of you. By revealing the secret phrase on an open channel, every telepathic agent in the world gained an advantage over us. Yeah, I admit it was great to know that there were so many TPs out there and that they recognise your leadership, but the minute all those thousands of minds joined that link they revealed who they were..." He paused, studying Abby's reaction to his outburst. Finding nothing but sympathetic understanding in her expression, he lowered his voice as he continued. "I appreciate the importance of what you and Kershia did today, Abby. I'm not denying that. But did you stop for even one second to appreciate that by exposing so many TPs to the authorities you made it ten, maybe a hundred, times easier for them to wipe us all out!" He looked around at the stunned faces. "And what's more, I know you're about to take exactly the same risks all over again tomorrow, by going back into that assembly hall unarmed, with a small delegation of just five of us against the entire UN security force. I know I can't stop you, Abby. I wouldn't even try. Most of the damage is done already. But I am going with you tomorrow. Whether you like it or not, five TPs are not enough. I plan to infiltrate that hall with as many of our security personnel as is humanly possible."

When Jimmy had finished speaking, all eyes turned back towards Abby who sat back in her chair, a wry smile lightening her strained and tired features. "And I wouldn't expect anything less from you or your security force. Today we caught them unawares, tomorrow..." She shrugged. "They may have invited us back, but that doesn't mean that we can trust them completely. Tomorrow we will take our case to the world and let the world judge us. But that doesn't mean that we have to go blindly like lambs to the slaughter!"

***********

Night enveloped Europe in soft wings of darkness. The waning moon cast little light, no more than a slender crescent remaining of its glorious disk. Anonymity came with the deep night, differences fading into obscurity. In nests and dens birds and animals slept, unaware and uncaring of the troubles that shook the world. What was it to them if one ape or another ruled the urban jungles in which they had come to live? In their homes across the Continent people slept too, soothed into restless slumber by the silence. Nightmares marched the black night; nightmares fed by fear, by anger, by pride. Inevitably, the world would change as Europe slept. Children would emerge, crying, into a world that seemed harsh and cold. Other souls would slip its physical bounds, exchanging the great adventure of life for what lay beyond. Unheeding of day and night, the Earth would sweep out its unending circle around the Sun. And together both sought to encircle the dark mass that bound together this oasis of light and life in the barren desert of a cold universe. Darkness and light in perfect balance.

Paris did not sleep with the fall of night. In its bars and its restaurants people talked and drank and partied into the night with a frantic abandon. They sensed the uncertainty which swept the world and they danced on the lip of the catastrophe curve. Rumours swept through the city night, carried from bar to bar on the wings of fear: the Tomorrow People were here, they were among them; the United Nations were a sham; Homo superior were already the power that ruled the world by stealth. There were other rumours too, just as terrifying, just as shocking: the Tomorrow People would be wiped out; already the Government had plans for genocide, had children bred to act as plague carriers; humanity would fail, becoming sterile as its potential for evolution was suppressed. Was it better to yield the world to humanity's successors, or to take them with it when humanity fell? And who would, who should, decide?

The police were worried but unsurprised when the first crowd gathered, its component groups spilling out onto the Champ de Mars as the bars of the 7ème closed around 2am. The people milled on the open ground, as if drawing strength from the towering bulk of la Tour Eiffel far above them. It was a statement of hope, reaching for the sky, and of what could be achieved with determination. The people gathering in the wide, grassy space were peaceful enough at first. They formed small huddles; individuals drifting from one group to another, letting news and pseudo-news diffuse through the park.

No one saw what triggered the first disturbance amidst the crowd, only the ripple of violence that spread out from it. Forced off balance by the surging of the masses, people fell against one another. In a swarm of people already on edge, blows were exchanged. Fights developed and the crowds fled the Champ de Mars, the turmoil travelling with them. It was a mob who tumbled across the Pont d'lena and onwards towards the Champs Elysées. They carried darkness with them, to mirror the darkness they felt. Streetlamps smashed under barrages of rocks and bricks so that the crowd moved on a floor littered with shards of glass. The most primitive instincts awoke in a species on the verge of adulthood, and fire grew in the night. Piles of rubbish were set alight and torches cast an infernal light on faceless hordes.

By the time the police met the mob reason had been abandoned. There was little ideology or idealism in the minds of those who sent a barrage of missiles against the riot police. They were fighting, not through choice or conscious decision, but because they were there and because they were afraid. Again and again the surging crowd met the transparent plastic shield wall, but each time it was weaker as, shaken by the hysteria, those who could slipped away into the night.

It took barely an hour for the mob to disperse, fleeing to the safety of their homes and hotels. The police lingered in the shadows of the Arc d Triomphe, breathing hard and taking little joy from their victory. The remnants of the rioting crowd were being hauled into armoured vehicles, screaming and hurling abuse as they went. The police tried to shut out the words, but the seeds of doubt had been planted. Servants of the city and the state, whose orders were they truly following?

***********

The White House, Washington. 28th March 2022
10.p.m. Local Time

The President stared up at the flags hanging to either side of the window behind her desk, and sighed heavily. Aware that her advisers were watching her every move from the far side of the office, she lowered her gaze once again and glanced at the array of newspapers brought to her earlier that day and spread across the surface of the desk. Their headlines shouted of the upheaval endemic in every corner of her great nation, and begged for somebody to do something about it.

Stepping out from behind the desk, she stalked across the brightly lit office, then turned and marched back once again. This was an action that her aides had seen many times before when she was troubled and they knew from experience not to disturb her. A response, thought the President; they're waiting for a response.

When she had taken office the President of the United States of America had made a solemn vow to the people, to herself and to her God to protect the country from any enemy that threatened its shores. But this situation was different. This civil and political upheaval was unparalleled in her great nation's history. Unlike all other foes before it, this enemy was appearing from within - an insidious evil born of ordinary man. It seemed as if the Devil himself were snapping at the heels of every good man, woman and child.

They're awaiting my response, she thought again, snatching a glance at the nearest of her aides. And we all know what that response must be. But at what cost? How can I betray the people, to save the people?

A tall redheaded man, standing in the shadow of the closed doorway, now came forward to speak. "Madam President," he coughed nervously. "We've had calls from at least six state Governors requesting help with local disturbances. The heads of a dozen churches are camped outside, insisting on speaking with you personally. What shall we tell them?"

The President stopped her pacing abruptly and glared hawk-like at the man who had spoken. "The camps?" she asked unexpectedly, making the man jump with the abruptness of the question. "What's happening at the camps?"

"Stabilised, at present," commented an older man, emerging from the recessed doorway.

The President looked this newcomer up and down, his smart suit and air of superiority indicative of his military past. "And what precisely does that mean?" she asked sternly.

"Well, Ma'am." The man pushed past the other aides and came into the centre of the room. "Since the UN broadcast this morning, the situation - as you can see from the papers - has been deteriorating. The small-scale civil liberties mob that parked themselves outside the camp in White Pines, Nevada, a few weeks ago, has, until now, been a manageable nuisance. But when the news broke about the upcoming debate a crowd of a thousand or more people descended on the place. There was a pitched battle between the two sides for hours. Thankfully, the protesters were driven back by the National Guard, but not before they broke down the fence and killed nearly two hundred of the inmates." He paused to look down at his highly polished boots. "At least, that's what the official record will say. The mortality rate in that camp had been rising steadily for weeks and this unrest was, in some ways, quite timely." Suppressing a self-satisfied smirk, he stood to attention and fixed the President with a confident look. "As yet, the protesters have not discovered our largest camp in Wyoming. And by the time they do the inhabitants will most likely be dead, anyway. The medics inform us that the neurological illness sweeping the camps is attributed solely to prolonged exposure to the Barlumin. We'd be hard-pressed to pass off so many deaths as natural causes, as we've done in other areas of the country."

The President started to pace up and down the circular carpet once again, glancing from each anxious face to the next. "So it is true," she mumbled under her breath. "I am killing my own people." Stopping abruptly, she crossed back to her desk, all signs of her femininity masked behind the role of Commander-in- Chief. Taking the seat decisively, she looked towards the nearest aide. "Get me the Prime Minister of Britain on the phone!"

"But it's three..."

"I don't care what time it is. Get him on the phone, now!"

**********

The video screen cleared to reveal a grey-looking man in his late middle age. He was hunched over his desk, clutching a steaming mug of tea to his breast and muttering to himself.

"Morning, Tom," called the President genially. "Sorry to get you out of bed at this..."

"Do you think I could even contemplate going to bed with all this happening?"

The President shrugged an apology. "No, I suppose not, Tom."

Peering into the screen as if he could look right into the President's mind, the Prime Minister shook off his earlier bleakness and smiled half-heartedly. "I'm assuming that your call has some relationship to all this unrest spreading across the world. That you've decided to discuss the Tomorrow People at long last." He paused to sip at his tea. "It's about time too, Catherine. The UN meets again in the morning, and God only knows what decisions we'll be forced to abide by then."

"Tom, you know as well as I that this can't go on. Not when so many innocents are dying. I think it's high time we went on the offensive. Time for us to use it."

"Use what?"

The President swallowed hard. She'd never expected to encounter any reluctance from the British Government. Not when they were the ones responsible for developing the weapon in the first place. She tapped her pointed nails on the polished surface of the mahogany desk and noticed her counterpart twitch apprehensively. "Don't play the innocent with me, Tom. My people tell me you've been ready for deployment for weeks. It's the only way to put a stop to this. You know it. I know it. And I suspect they know it too."

There wasn't the tiniest flicker of recognition behind the Prime Minister's eyes, although inside his mind flew into a whirlwind of thought. How could the Americans have obtained such good intelligence on the UK's most secret operation? Why hadn't the false press reports of the near-disaster at Anbridge put them off the scent? How would this knowledge jeopardise his country's dominance in the new world order? Could he get away with plausible deniability and deploy the ST4 at his own pace when he chose to, or was he forced to do America's bidding as his predecessors had been?

"All right," he said after a slight pause. "I'll admit that the virus has been successfully mutated, and spread in accordance with the original Malthus objectives. We've also stockpiled large quantities of trigger agent."

"And?" demanded the President impatiently. "When do you expect to use it?"

"That is a matter for the British security services to decide. We've developed the safeguard of Operation Malthus in order to preserve our internal sovereignty and security. This mutated virus is designed to do more than prevent their 'breakout', you know. The political fallout from its use will be quite severe and, in my opinion, such a decision has to be taken under advisement from our top military personnel. I don't see what the US government has got to do with it."

"The hell you don't, Tom!" The President looked angry enough to explode. "Don't forget it was us who funded half of that project. We supplied scientific expertise. It was us who..."

"The whys and wherefores are not important here," interrupted the Prime Minister belligerently. He took a deep breath, shaking his head, then gave a sardonic smile. "After all, perhaps the UN will come up with a peaceful solution tomorrow," he added with just a hint of cynicism. "Why exactly do you think we need to deploy the one remaining weapon we have against these Tomorrow People now?"

The President picked up the copy of the Washington Post which lay closest to the videophone's small lens and held the front page up to the camera so that the Prime Minister could clearly see the headline that read: 'Riots across half of the country. National Guard in running battle with protesters.' Visibly calming herself, the President yanked the newspaper away and leant in close to the camera. "Not everyone has your faith in the United Nations, Tom. They couldn't find a peaceful solution if it hit them in the face." She gave a humourless chuckle. "Besides, what I think doesn't matter any more. It's what I know that counts. If we don't do something to stop these Tomorrow People spreading into every walk of life in both our countries, we'll have no decent human beings left to govern." She paused to look about her at the assembled group of aides, now mumbling amongst themselves on the far side of the Oval Office. "We have to move quickly - present this insane debate at the UN with a fait accompli. We can probably keep them talking for a day or two, at least. I'll give you 48 hours to make a decision, Tom. And for God's sake, you better make the right one. "

The video link was terminated.

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

Luna Lab: 4 a.m. 29th March 2022

Luna's top level was quiet now, only the gentle purring of the air compressors breaking the silence. A few hours before, the common room had been alive with chatter. While Jimmy, Stephanie, Ben and Cole discussed the security measures so hastily put in place during the day, and planned ahead for tomorrow, Abby, Kershia and Emina had fielded a barrage of irrepressible questions from the Malthus children about the United Nations Special Assembly meeting.

With weary bodies and tired eyes, they had eventually called a halt to the debate and ordered everyone to their beds. Tomorrow was a big day, Kershia had joked. She needed her beauty sleep if she was going to look her best on worldwide television. Despite her exhaustion, sleep had been the last thing on Kershia's mind as she lay cocooned in the blackness of the Luna night, listening as the whirring of the fans mixed with the murmurs of sleeping children. For the briefest of moments, she considered searching out Jimmy in his own shared quarters, but immediately dismissed the idea. After her actions today, there were too many unresolved issues between them - issues that could not be dismissed or set aside. If, like her, he were also awake, he would be too edgy to play the nocturnal games that had become a wordless and secret part of their world. Too distracted by security issues to find release in any comfort she could offer.

Kershia sighed to herself, ashamed for even contemplating such thoughts at a time when the very future of the Tomorrow People hung in the balance. Pulling herself upright, she threw off the covers. If sleep would not come naturally and she could not induce it through physical activity, then the only thing left was to go and do something worthwhile instead of just lying here brooding.

Kershia climbed from her bed and padded from the room, pulling her dressing-gown tightly around her body in a gesture of self-comfort. Using her psi-awareness to avoid the common room's furniture, she flopped down on the cushioned window seat and stared out at the moonscape beyond the thick portal.

(You too?) The voice in her mind was weary, but carried an edge of anxiety all too familiar.

(Abby!) Kershia's surprised and focussed thoughts rang clear in her friend's mind, instantly alert and welcoming of the company. (I'm so keyed up, I doubt I'll sleep for the next week!)

(I didn't even bother trying,) Abby sighed, her mental voice becoming perplexed. (What are we doing here, Kershia? Despite everything that's happened, I keep asking myself that question over and over again. How did we get into this mess?)

(Is that what you really think? That we've made a mess of the situation?) Even though the two women were separated by an impenetrable blackness, Kershia didn't need to see Abby's face to know what expression she would find there. They had known one another for many years now, and although there had been moments of doubt, times when their resolve was weakened by setbacks and tragedies, their joint determination to make a difference had always seen them through the worst of times. (Is this situation different to any other crisis we've faced since the Seniors left? I know that Jimmy made a fuss about the security risks, but if we hadn't acted today we may have awoken tomorrow to a very different world. A world where our chance of ever being treated fairly or equally by the Saps was wiped out by legal jargon and governmental pretentiousness.)

(I know, Kersh. You're right. There was no other way, not after we'd laid so much groundwork over the past months. But I'm still concerned that the others don't see things our way. It's all well and good Jimmy being angry about security matters, but to hold back our entire race's one chance for a fair hearing - simply because he's scared of exposing our network?) She sighed despairingly, allowing the question to hang in the air between them. (Emina's the only one here that seems totally in favour of what I... we... did!)

With a soft ringing noise, Kershia appeared on the couch beside Abby, taking her hand gently. (They're scared, Abby. We're all scared. This is a bigger step than anyone ever considered possible. We've been running and hiding from the Saps for decades and look where it got us - stuck up here, thousands of miles from our homes and loved ones. Today we took a chance, you and me. It's a gamble, I grant you that. The UN could turn on us in the morning, or they could debate this resolution and still declare us forfeit of human rights. But no one will ever be able to say that we didn't give it our best shot. We've tried our utmost to drag the people around us out from the shadows and into the light. At the moment it's a very bright political spotlight, and that makes everyone feel vulnerable. But it's illuminated the dark side of our nature, and for once in my life I'm glad that we're no longer running. I'm glad you and me are standing together on that podium, making this stand for Tomorrow People everywhere.)

They sat in silence then, Kershia's head resting on Abby's shoulder as sleep finally overtook her.

****** In the stillness of early morning TIM's concerned thoughts suddenly rang in their mind, jolting them both out of their hypnagogic dream. (Abby, Kershia. There is some startling news I think you should both be aware of. Could you please jaunt down here immediately?)

TIM's strained mental voice was still ringing inside their heads as they appeared on the jaunting pad at the back of the command centre. Ignoring the shocked expressions of the night shift, they rushed forward until they stood directly below TIM's hemispheres, and it was Kershia who spoke first. "What's happened, TIM? It sounds bad."

"Please watch the viewscreen."

The large monitor on the far wall above the sofa illuminated to show scenes of total chaos. There were thousands of missile-throwing youths, screaming obscenities while their projectiles rained down on a group of hapless police, vainly trying to herd another group of protesters to safety. The pictures suddenly changed to show a different city in another country; this time the police themselves were engaged in a running battle with angry mobs. Amongst the crowd they could pick out the shimmer of jaunting TPs fleeing for their lives. The half-dozen night-duty personnel stepped forward to join them as they stood open-mouthed, watching image after image taken from news networks and TV stations across the globe broadcasting their scenes of devastation.

"Where is this happening?" Kershia's whispered question drifted on the tide of emotion sweeping through the thoughts of everyone present.

"I am afraid to say that these pictures are coming in from all across the Earth. There doesn't seem to be any country that is not affected."

"But what caused all this? Surely our visit to the UN can't have sparked this amount of unrest in so many countries?"

TIM coughed nervously before continuing, his anxiety at the situation ruffling his usually calm voice. "May I suggest that you both sit down while I explain?" Abby looked up at the other personnel who stood just behind them. With a wave of her hand she dismissed them and they hurried from the room.

Watching pensively as Abby and Kershia climbed up to the link table, TIM forced his apprehension aside before he continued. "It began a few hours ago. I didn't deem it necessary to disturb your planning meeting at first, and decided to monitor the situation myself."

"What situation?" demanded Kershia irritably, lack of sleep causing her temper to flare. "Sorry, TIM." She glanced up at the glowing hemispheres with an immediate apology. "We're all a little uneasy just now."

"That is all right, Kershia," replied their biotronic friend. "I quite understand. When the first person declared himself, I thought it just an interesting anomaly, something to be included in my morning report. When a more prominent figure did the same, it became an even more intriguing curiosity. But now that so many have declared themselves... people in public office, people in the media, religious leaders, politicians, doctors and lawyers... I am sorry to disturb you, but I had to call you down here to discuss it."

"Declare what, TIM?" asked Kershia, too weary to make the jump in understanding.

Abby's face flashed with a dozen emotions. "You mean they declared themselves to be Tomorrow People? They announced it publicly?"

"Indeed, isn't that what I have been trying to explain for the past few minutes?"

"Oh, TIM, that's wonderful!" exclaimed Kershia excitedly.

Abby's thoughts suddenly became grave. (No, Kersh, don't you see it? This is not wonderful. It's a total disaster. They've taken the risk and exposed themselves, but all it's done is fuel the flames of the Saps' hatred. These riots are a direct consequence of so many TPs announcing who they are. And it's all our fault. By standing up there on that podium and asking people to put their trust in me, I have condemned them to this.) She waved her hand frantically at the violent images still showing on the viewscreen. (Oh, Kershia, what have we done!)

The exhilaration suddenly banished from Kershia's posture, she leant forward to rest a hand in Abby's shoulder. "We did what we had to do," she whispered. "I thought we just agreed that."

Patting Kershia's hand in a gesture of thanks, Abby looked up at TIM, "You mentioned prominent figures. Whom, exactly, are we talking about here?"

"As far as I can judge, most of the people who have openly declared themselves to be Homo superior are figures comfortable in their public life. Those well appointed enough, or wealthy enough, to be cushioned from any consequences the declaration may cause." The monitor changed to show an image of that year's top celebrity, Rodney Wheeler - the British-born actor, turned Hollywood star. After a few seconds the image changed again to show a smartly dressed woman waving to a crowd of onlookers as she boarded her private jet. "This is Helen Tramlin, the well-known industrialist. And this -" the picture faded, to be replaced by the image of a happy family out walking their dog - "is the Right Honourable Percy Farley, recently elected Speaker of the House of Commons."

"Oh, TIM," mumbled Abby. "This is terrible. We need to appear normal in the eyes of the world, not this... These people are in positions of power. They could easily be accused of using psionics to have gained that position." She glanced sideways at Kershia, who was looking equally unnerved by the situation. "You see it now, don't you?" Kershia nodded gravely. "We need normal people, people like you and me..." Abby's gaze defocused as the idea came into her mind.

"I know that look, Abby. And I don't like it. What are you planning?"

Wringing her hands together, Abby closed her eyes momentarily as she thought through the decision. "I'll ask one of the big Canadian Labs to go public!" she announced at last.

"You'll do what?" Kershia was frantic. "No, Abby, you mustn't. You can't ask them to put their lives in so much danger." She paused, reading the determination in Abby's thoughts. "If you ask, they'll do it - you know they will. But the people in a Lab don't have money or privilege to protect them. Look at those riots. Can you contemplate what an angry mob could do to the ordinary people from a Lab?"

Abby shook her head before burying it in her hands "Yes, Kersh. I know exactly what can happen to a vulnerable Lab." She looked up to see the sadness and compassion in her friend's eyes. "I know that you mean well, but as I've said before, we must look at the bigger picture now. I know that they'll do it if I ask. I know that it'll be difficult for them. But the only way we're going to stop the Saps from being scared of us is to demonstrate that there is nothing to be scared of. And for that we need lots of ordinary people to stand up and declare what they are."

TIM waited patiently while the two women discussed the issue for some minutes, not wishing to disturb the intensity of their conversation. It was only when he noticed they had reached an impasse that he stepped in with his own suggestion. "May I remind you that time is running out. Even if Abby could arrange for every member of a large Canadian Lab to go public, it would take some days to coordinate such an action. The new day is approaching rapidly in America and you two will be required to attend the United Nations in New York in just under eleven hours. Neither of you have had any sleep, and your judgement may not be at its best right now. Nothing can be achieved before the next session of the Assembly; therefore I recommend that you keep this plan in mind for the future. If the violence does not diminish after the second day of debate, then the notion of an entire Lab going public may be something worth putting to Jimmy and Stephanie."

"But if we wait we'll lose the initiative. Those scenes are happening now, TIM. The people declaring themselves are doing it with the best of intentions, but it's their actions that are fuelling the situation." Abby glanced up at the pictures in the monitor. "A Lab, a major Lab - full of ordinary people, with mundane jobs - that's what we really need. Yes, it's risky, but we've taken a huge risk already..."

"I know we have, Abby," remarked Kershia in a soft, calming voice. "But look at the rift it's caused between us and the others. Just how far do you think we can push Jimmy? "

TIM watched Abigail intently. Although her thoughts were guarded, her posture displayed how set she was upon this idea. "It is the middle of the night, and you are both tired. I agree that such a demonstration would certainly have an impact upon the situation, but it is not practical to arrange at this time. A decision such as this must involve your security personnel; you cannot go ahead without their cooperation."

Both women drew in their breath and gave a collective sigh. "Yes, TIM. You're right, of course," Abby agreed, smiling weakly at Kershia. "I'll raise it in the morning meeting. If this violence continues, we may be forced to take the risk after all."

"Very well. I will add the item to the morning agenda." He paused as they both yawned. "Now, may I suggest that you both get some rest?"

Kershia and Abby exchanged a wry smile. "We know that we should be sleeping, TIM, but there's just too much going on for us to relax right now."

"Then allow me to suggest that I induce sleep with a psychotropic wave, administered once you have returned to your beds. It is a harmless procedure and will allow you complete rest for at least the next seven hours. After tomorrow, rest may be something in very short supply."

They gave one another a gentle nod, standing and preparing to jaunt back to their respective bunks. "Thanks, TIM. I don't know what we'd do without you."

********

The ship's bridge was quiet, its crew waiting anxiously for his reaction. John barely noticed, his eyes still locked on the viewscreen as the reports of chaos faded away. Anger and disbelief held him motionless for long moments as he struggled to understand. How could Abby and Kershia have done this? Hadn't they known, couldn't they have guessed, what it would lead to? Scenes of rioting and destruction, such as those his ship now intercepted from Earth, had haunted his nightmares for over a decade. Abby and the others couldn't have been naïve enough not to anticipate this.

John jerked his eyes away from the now-blank screen, the motion almost violent. Sighing, he shook his head to clear it, the anger swept away by a tide of guilt. He had asked himself how Abby and the others could have permitted this, but realistically what choice did they have? If this was anyone's fault, it was his own. He had walked away, leaving them to deal with a situation he had created. He had dumped the world on their shoulders, never doubting that they could take the weight.

A surge of pride filled him, pride in the courage of the young people whose talents he had seen and nurtured. Would he have dared take this step if he had remained on Earth? Or would he have let the world slide out of their control without mounting a defence, too weighed down by the memory of past trials to act decisively when needed? A tight smile crossed his face. At least no one could accuse him of inaction any more.

"But am I already too late?" The question slipped from John's lips before he realised he'd spoken aloud. The crew knew better than to answer. In the years they had travelled together they had grown accustomed to his occasional moods and fears, just as he had grown accustomed to their eternal calm. He took a deep shuddering breath, drawing strength from their quiet belief that all would come to pass as it was meant to, forcing himself to look at the situation rationally. "Not yet." He answered his own question, shaking off his uncharacteristic introspection. It wasn't too late quite yet; there was still time. There was always time, if you knew where to find it...

John studied the tactical display that had replaced the news reports on the viewscreen. The web of movements and interactions it displayed was almost dizzying. It had been so long now since the day he had jaunted out of Luna, trying to come to terms with the realisation that he had failed his people. The decision to leave first Earth, and then the Hall of the Eternal Order, had seemed so simple then, each step following from the one before. He could never have believed that it would lead to such complexity, or that his small actions could have led to something this big.

He raised his voice. "No more news from the Trig?"

"Not yet." The voice was high-pitched and musical as it echoed his earlier words. "But it won't be long now."

John nodded, not turning to look at his executive officer, but accepting the judgement. He sighed, impatience making him shift restlessly in his seat.

"Are both elements prepared and signalling ready?" he asked simply, knowing the answer already. On the screen the myriads of traces had divided and were waiting now in two discrete groups. Sitting in the ship's command chair he looked up once more at the viewscreen, fixing his eyes on the thick darkness of interstellar space. He nodded to the ship's pilot. "Let's get this show on the road."

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

"I am a Tomorrow Person and I have nothing to be ashamed of."

Sammie's assertion sounded unnaturally loud in the sudden silence that followed it. The thirteen-year-old girl backed into one wall of the school playground, wrapping her arms around her chest as if trying to make herself as small as she could. Her voice had been defiant, but the undercurrent of uncertainty had betrayed her. She felt the confused and uncertain expressions on the faces of her friends before even looking. They formed a half circle around her, two or three deep. The crowd was growing as word reached her classmates and the others in her school. She saw their confusion. Sammie a TP? One of their own?

"I broke out a year ago." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, one confidence leading to another. If so many others could admit to this, why couldn't she? "There's nothing wrong with it. Why should there be? I didn't ask for this. I didn't even know how many others there were. Not until last night when I heard them, heard so many of them, out there."

The other children muttered uncertainly, no one moving, the school bell passing unregarded. Sammie waited, her nerves screaming for someone, anyone, to react. Her flight-or-fight reflex struggled against her reason. She should jaunt out of here, back to the Lab. She should escape.

Sammie stood her ground, fighting back her instincts, forcing them down. She looked around the wall of people that surrounded her, her expression pleading. "Well, say something! We've been friends for years! Why should this change anything? Say something, please."

"Dirty TP!" The shout came from one side, and Sammie barely had time to brace herself before the kick connected with her shin. She gasped as she fell to the ground, her leg too numb to support her weight. Desperately, she wrapped her arms around her head, trying to block out the raised voices around her, waiting for the blows that must follow. It took her several moments to realise that they weren't going to fall. Her friends surrounded her protectively, the aggressor held tightly by two of his own companions.

"It's still Sammie!" one of them told the boy loudly, looking uncertainly at her.

"What's going on here?" The teacher's voice froze the scene into a dramatic tableau, bringing silence to the noisy crowd just as Sammie's had, minutes before. Now though, there was no uncertainty in the silent crowd. Sammie felt their decision and gasped, relief leaving her clinging to the friend who helped her up. Fighting amongst themselves was one thing. Giving one of their own up to the teachers - and to those the teachers might call - was another thing entirely. "Well?" The man studied the group, his eyes settling on the pale girl. "Samantha, I'm waiting for an explanation."

"It's nothing, sir." One of her classmates stepped forward, blocking her from view. "Can we get to class, Mr Taylor? We're late, aren't we?"

They didn't speak of it again as they rushed through the corridors to their classrooms. Sammie went with the rest, struggling not to limp on her painful leg. She whispered the words to herself, her friends' anxious acceptance giving them weight for the first time.

"I am a Tomorrow Person. And I have nothing to be ashamed of."

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

"Do sit down, Mike!" Elizabeth's voice was scolding, deliberately keeping her tone light. She picked up a glass of water, sipping it, the epitome of calm. "You're making me dizzy!"

Mike grinned at her, throwing himself onto the white semi-circular sofa with a force that sent ripples across the surface of Elizabeth's drink. She hesitated and then returned his smile wryly. Both of them knew that her calm was a mask, a response to the pressure, just like his restless energy.

"We ought to be there!" Stephen stood and paced from one side of the room to the other, taking up the space Mike had so recently vacated. His grim urgency wiped the smiles from their faces. "They shouldn't be facing this alone."

"And what do you think we could accomplish, Stephen?" Elizabeth asked reasonably. "Hold their hands? Let's face it, Kershia and Abigail and the others don't need that."

"We could help, somehow." Stephen's voice trailed off, as if he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. He rallied, shaking his head. "Advise! Do something!"

"I thought that's just what we're not meant to be doing? Isn't that what you said? Why you're leaving us?" Mike asked the questions with a ripple of anger and sarcasm. Stephen met his eyes, and held them until the younger man sent a brief flash of apology "I'm sorry, mate. It's just..."

Stephen gripped his shoulder in a gesture of understanding. "I know, Mike. I know. "

Neither of them looked at the pile of bags and packs that stood, ready and waiting, by one wall of the room. The knowledge that they would soon be parted had been eating into all of them. Every day they woke knowing that this could be the last on which their thoughts blended. They would be torn apart, with no more than minutes for their final goodbyes. Minds that had been part of their world for a lifetime would soon be lost to them forever, leaving gaping holes behind. None of them had any illusion that they would be able to rebuild lives shattered by such a loss in the few years left to them. They would die alone and apart, robbed of all they had worked for and dreamed of.

Elizabeth watched the men with compassion for a few moments, but then her eyes were drawn inexorably back to the sights that had sparked their reactions. The holographic media display hovered above the unblemished white surface of the central link table, the three-dimensional scenes it displayed almost tangible in their realism. It felt so wrong that they had to learn what was happening on Earth second-hand, the news processed and reprocessed by the Trig's media division. Ordeals like this should have been kept inside the family, but since the Inquiry had begun, any direct communications with TIM and Luna had been monitored - when they were permitted at all. Instead the Senior Tomorrow People had been forced to watch the sparse reports, news of their own insignificant world almost lost amid the news of so many others.

Despite that, regret washed around the humanoid sphere of the vast space station and it mingled with both sympathy and fear. The people of the Federation were sorry that another world had fallen by the wayside, sorry for the Tomorrow People, but no one seemed surprised by the explosion of violence on Earth. Wasn't that why Inquiry ZD28-FV6 had been set up, after all?

(They're wrong.) Elizabeth spoke quietly in Stephen's mind and Mike's. The two men looked up at her, wondering at her non sequitur. (The people here, they think that Earth is lost, both to us, and to the rest of the Federation. But they're wrong. This is the first reaction - fear's driving it, not reason. The Saps haven't thought about it yet. When they do, well, their decision could fall either way. It's still too early to tell.) Elizabeth looked from one worried face to the other, and her thoughts became anxious, her reassuring confidence draining away. (The One Mind has to know that. They can't let this affect their decision, surely?)

Stephen sighed. He shook his head, his shoulder-length hair swaying with the motion. (Liz ...)

(Stephen. Elizabeth.) Timus's rich tones cut across Stephen's half-formed thought, ending it abruptly. Immediately, Elizabeth leaned forward to rest her fingertips on the link table in front of her. An instant later Stephen slid onto the sofa beside her, and Mike joined them. All three had heard the tired resignation in their old friend's tone.

(What is it?) Stephen asked urgently.

(What's happened, Timus?) Elizabeth added.

(Calm yourselves,) Timus told them, his rich tones grave, but soothing. (Nothing has 'happened' as of yet.) He paused and they felt his sympathy for them. (However, I must ask you to gather the others of your kind, and to be prepared to receive a formal summons.)

(A summons to what, Timus?) Mike asked, his tone becoming angry as he struggled to conceal his fear.

Timus sighed and they felt it like a breath of air though their minds.

(A summons to hear the verdict of the One Mind, I fear, Mike. You will be summoned before long. The Inquiry panel has completed its report and the One Mind is now considering its response.) His mental defences slipped a little and, for the first time, the Tomorrow People sensed the same helpless frustration they felt themselves in the mind of their old ally. (I have endeavoured to do all I could, but the fate of your world is now out of my hands, my dear friends. All that we can do is wait and see what will occur. It has become merely a matter of time.)

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

Luna Lab Command Centre, 29th March 2022, 2.50 p.m. Luna Time, 9.50 a.m. EST.

"Right, then." Travin stood away from the link table. "Sophie and I will head down to Vancouver to liase with the people there. "If... and I mean if, they agree to this insane plan we'll start to lay the groundwork for going public. But we're not making a move until we know that such a drastic course of action is absolutely necessary." Abby looked towards her one-time mentor, knowing the sacrifices he had made in his personal life, just to be there with her today. Being thrust into the public spotlight after years of self-imposed solitude was taking its toll on all of them, Travin more than most, but she knew that he would do her bidding without question and she couldn't ask any more from such a trusted and loyal friend. Travin replied to her sympathetic gaze with a slow and reassuring nod. "Ready?" He glanced at Sophie, who had come to stand purposefully beside him. "Good. Let's go."

The musical tones of their power-boosted jaunt were still reverberating around the room as everyone else returned their attention to Abigail.

(What now?) asked Josh from beside her, his irrepressible excitement at their agreement to his joining the delegation bubbling over in his thoughts. (It's almost time.) They all glanced up at the viewscreen, which displayed scenes of the rapidly filling assembly hall in New York.

Kershia exchanged an amused and well-shielded thought with Abby before continuing soberly. (Now we wait for the 'all clear' from Jimmy.)

She had barely finished speaking when their head of Security marched into the room from one of the adjoining jaunting stations. His face was fixed with an expression of grim determination, and Kershia found herself wondering whether he was relishing this moment of power. "All right, you two," he said authoritatively. "Mine and Steph's teams are in position. It's lucky that some of the delegates sympathetic to our cause agreed to add an additional person to their delegations. The place is packed!"

Kershia shot him an 'I told you so' glance, but bit her tongue, not wishing to revisit the arguments that had formed the basis of their three-hour-long meeting. She looked at her watch before continuing. "The Assembly reconvenes officially at ten o'clock. How close to that time do you suggest we make our entrance?"

"As close as possible." He glanced across at the overhead monitor. "The safest position will be directly behind the Secretary General when he calls the meeting to order. That way snipers in the auditorium will find it difficult to get a clean shot." He turned towards Stephanie, who was already rising from her seat in preparation. "Steph, you stick close to Abby, while Ben stays beside Kershia. I want Josh to form the point of a triangle standing at the rear."

Josh gave a disappointed whine. "Oh!"

Jimmy gave him an irritated look. "The apex of the formation is the most important position. I want you three to keep a constant telekinetic barrier behind these two, one strong enough to deflect incoming projectiles."

"But what if they use Bar..." Josh's outburst trailed away in response to Jimmy's angry expression.

"For the time being we have to hope they don't. My security force has been mingling with the crowd for over an hour, and if they sensed Barlumin in the atmosphere, they'd have reported it by now." He turned towards Abby "I'll go ahead and lose myself in the crowd. TIM can time your jaunt for immediately after the Secretary General begins to speak."

She gave him a decisive nod of agreement. "Thanks, Jimmy. Good luck."

Jimmy's sharp reply mingled with the sounds of his dematerialisation (It's not me who needs luck...)

Roger, who had remained pensive all morning, stood unexpectedly and walked across the command centre. "I guess it's time we put Luna on high alert," he mumbled to himself. Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder, catching each eye in turn until his gaze came to rest on Stephanie's face. "Take care, and I'll see you this evening." Before they could respond he had left the room.

The silence following Roger's rapid departure was suddenly broken by the sound of applause and the remaining Tomorrow People turned towards the viewscreen. Striding out onto the centre of the podium, the Secretary General of the United Nations looked about him nervously, his expression tense as he surveyed the five empty chairs in the front row of the seating area. "Ladies and Gentlemen..." he began.

With a collective sigh, they moved over to the jaunting pad, each lost in their private thoughts. With hands on belt, Abby glanced up at TIM's glowing hemispheres. "Look after them, TIM," she said, quietly.

Not wishing to engage in long goodbyes, they jaunted.

For a fraction of a second, there was the familiar ringing noise and tingling sensation of a teleport in progress, the swirling colours of hyperspace exploding on all their senses. In the next instant the room solidified again and Abby looked around to find herself and Kershia standing alone on the jaunting pad.

"What's going on, TIM? Where are the others?"

"I am holding the others in hyperspace for a few seconds. They will come to no harm."

Now Kershia found her voice. "What's wrong, TIM?" her tone was angst-ridden and it took all her resolve to calm herself.

"There is no easy way to tell you this." The biotronic computer hesitated, knowing that the news he was about to convey could not be delayed, but also that it would add to the two women's considerable stress. "I have just received a message from the Trig."

"The Inquiry!" exclaimed Abby and Kershia in unison.

"Indeed. I have been asked by Timus that we stand by to receive a live transmission from the 'One Mind'."

Thinking decisively, Abby turned towards her companion. "We can't stay here, Kersh. They're waiting for us at the UN. Whatever the Federation decide, our fate is not in their hands..."

Kershia nodded slowly. "You're right! The Federation aren't our keepers."

Abby looked towards the swirling colours and hanging conduits that made up the heart of the biotronic intelligence. "Send Timus our apologies, TIM. Tell him that we have more important matters to attend to at present." She exchanged a wry smile with Kershia. "Explain that we will be available to receive any transmissions that the Federation wishes to make later in the day." She coughed determinedly. "Now, continue the jaunt, please, TIM."

End of Metastable Equilibrium

Part 0 and Prologue

Kinetic Energy

Metastable Equilibrium

Paradigm Shift

Epilogue

Return to Index