32117 - chapter 1-2

Part I – The Assignments
Chapter 1
1 – 05.32AM, 27th June 2903

He was alone in a place so familiar yet so unfamiliar. He had been here before but he couldn't remember when. Even though he knew it was a dream, it felt so real. It was like a memory faded with time.

He'd had the dream many times before but the details were always different. The only certainty was that it would start and end the same way just as it did this time.

He was in a forest filled with tall thick trees, they were silver birch trees, he knew that somehow. A thick fog hugged the ground and shielded the distance from view. For all he knew, the forest went on forever.

It was night and slices of moonlight shown through gaps in the canopy. He could smell the damn air and wet leaves; he could hear the wind and feel the cold air against his skin.

He had to walk, he felt compelled to do so. He walked for what in the dream seemed like hours but in the waking world, was just seconds. He didn't know why he was walking or where he was going, he just had to walk.

Suddenly he found himself in an empty patch of the forest, free from all vegetation save for three tall trees. They were strong, wide silver birches like the others and grow in formation, one in front of him and two either side like the points of a triangle.

But it wasn't the trees that interested him; it wasn't the trees that had been calling him, pulling his desire to the point of breaking, it was the well. In the centre of the clearing, barely meters away from him, was a well. It wasn't the friendly well you see in children's books, the wells with a rope and bucket and a little pointed roof. This one had no bucket, no roof, no rope, it was flat on the ground and if you weren't looking where you were going, you could fall right down. It was made from large blocks of stone that had been forced together and held with globs of cement. And in the well...he couldn't see from here, it was just out of view. He felt the well calling him, dragging him towards it.

He stepped forward. Part of him wanted to turn and run, to forget what was down there and just leave right now, but most of him wanted it, wanted to see. His muscles seemed to fight themselves, parts following his desire to leave, parts wanting to see. Pain ran up his legs and up his spine like the blade of a razor. It was excruciating, it occupied every inch of his body. He suddenly wanted to stop but it was too late, the pull was too strong.

His legs buckled, all strength deserted them and he fell to his knees. And still he had to see, he had to know what was there. So he began to crawl, each inch demanded more and more effort. He felt exhausted, depleted but still he moved forward. The well was close now, his fingers were touching the cold stone. His hands clasped the rim of the well and he pulled with what little strength he had. His face was now looking into the well, the pain was still there but it was somehow unimportant now. He could see inside. And inside...
2 - 05.35AM, 27th June 2903

He sat up, his heart racing, breathing quickly. Sweat had covered him through the night. With one hand, he pushed back his hair, now matted and drenched with sweat, away from his face. He twisted his body so his feet touched the ground. That dream again! How many times had he seen the same thing? But he never saw what was in the well, never understood the desire to look inside.

The room was dark, but there was a small pale light coming from the bathroom. He sat in the darkness, his elbows on his knees and his hands holding back his shoulder length hair. After a moment he moved towards the bathroom. He selected the water temperature and filled the sink with clear warm water. He cupped his hands, gathered some water and washed his face and ran wet hands through his hair. He looked at the face in the mirror. It was a handsome face but more of a pretty boy then a strong jawed face that would match his broad and muscular body. He wondered what the face looked like on it's originally body, before it was his.

He turned off the tap, returned to the main room and switched on the small lamp that sat beside the bed. The room, like all military rooms, was grey and bland and free from virtually all luxuries. There was a bed, a table and a couple of chairs, a cupboard, a chest of drawers and screen with an old armchair in front of it.

He looked at the clock on the wall, 5.39AM. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep so he moved over to the table and sat on one of the chairs. The canteen would be open about 7 so all he had to do was waste time until then. His pad lay on the table so he picked it up, unfolded the pocket-sized flat sheet into its A4 size, turned it on and looked at the latest news headline, which of course were all about the war.

After some time he grew tired of reading and put away his pad. He glanced at the clock, 6.08AM, he still had an hour to kill. His entire week's journey from Earth to the EWG Mother ship had involved nothing but these four walls, the four walls of the canteen and the corridors in between. He had avoided as much contact with the crew as he could. He ate as early or as late as he could to avoid the rush of people, his room was on-suite so there was no problem there and although there were games and entertainment, he found himself content in his room reading or watching shows, films and news reports on his pad or on the screen. He didn't want to interact with anyone, he couldn't stand those staring eyes, those hushed whispers, it was all too much.

Viltoris stood out a little from other people, there were things about him that were impossible to hide. He was almost 7ft high, had broad shoulders and muscles that would make a bodybuilder jealous. He was handsome with long shoulder length blond brownish hair, deep blue eyes and a sad smile that rarely made an appearance. To all outside observers, to anyone with eyes, it was easy to see that this man was not of woman born. He was in fact, a genetically enhanced clone.

Cloning had been perfected hundreds of years ago but no one up until recently had used it to make people. Despite the decline in religion over the last few decades, people still felt strange about the issue, not so much that it was immoral, they just felt uncomfortable about the idea. But then war came along and war has a habit of loosening people's morals.

The cloning progress worked like this. They would take potential candidates for cloning, run them through a serious of tests and examinations until they are satisfied and then take DNA samples as well as bone steam cells and create 10 copies of that individual. The clones would then be scattered across the solar system and placed in random locations to avoid ever meeting each other. They key is that no one knows that the clones are clones. Theorist, sociologists, psychiatrists, politicians and scientists all felt that if the general population would be aware of clones they would become aggressive towards them, prejudice in fact. Whether this would happen or not has not been confirmed but in times of war, people tend to panic and make rash decisions.

In order for a clone to reach middle age without having to actually live that long, scientists had to apply rapid ageing techniques. This meant that a 35 year old would in fact only be a few months old. They were also subject them to false memories, lies created to make the clones believe they are who they have been told they are, lies which made them believe that they did have a youth, they did have a mother and father, brothers and sisters and all the rest. The scientists said it was all vital that the clones believed they were human and that the memories they had were real because it helped them make moral judgements.

They say people are a sum of their memories, and for the clones at least, this seemed to be true. If a clone was aged 35 but was given no memories, they would act like a month old baby because they had no understanding of the world, they didn't know what speech was or how to act. So false memories of childhood joys and sorrows, lost but not forgotten loves, forming and breaking of friendships, dabbles with the law and so on were implanted in their heads. This, they said, built a healthy and moral individual. Viltoris had his own memories implanted in his brain; the only difference is that he knew they were false because he had been told that they were.

This had lead to what he hoped were unforeseen side effects. To be told that all your memories, cherished or disturbing, were not real had a strong impact on him, as it would do on any one. For months he refused to believe it but eventually he had caved in and accepted it. Now he feared he was losing his mind. Simple things, such as his favourite drink, caused him concern and confusion. His memory told him that he liked scotch, but in his actual existence, little over 18months, he'd never even touched the stuff. Would he like it now if he tried it? Did he enjoy the music of Mozart because his memory told him he did or because he actually did? The simple things such as this were slowly but steadily chipping away at his sanity.

There was a beep from his pad. He picked it up again and noticed a message from the captain which read;

"All crew members should be aware that they will be docking with the mother ship in 7 hours and to please make the necessary arrangements. All guest (which must have been a joke as there was only one, him) would please be aware and to prepare their luggage and wait for instructions."

He returned to his bed and lay back. He hated this place. He didn't mind the isolation, preferred it actually, but the crew, those damned staring eyes! He closed his own eyes and tried to relax but couldn't, the pull, it never let him rest.

All his existence, all 18 months, there had been something; a strange pulling sensation, a sort of irritating itch that never faded, a desire to move in a certain direction like a compass needs to point north. He didn't know what it meant, didn't know if anyone else felt it in fact, but on this trip it had become stronger and stronger the further and further away from earth they had gone. He felt he was moving in the right direction, towards wherever the pull was coming from. He didn't understand it and didn't try. His head was messed up enough with his false memories to worry about some odd feelings, so he tried to ignore it.

He turn on his pad and read some more on the war. The latest death count for this year was already in its tens of thousands and it was only June 27th. What would the count be by July, by August, by December? They just couldn't win, there was no way. He wondered why people bothered, what were they fighting for?
3 - 09.30AM, 27th June 2903

The Emergency World Government (EWG) meeting was in full swing. The latest casualty figures from the front line had been reported, as well as the change in movements and lost territory. They had lost the base on Ariel and Miranda, two very important bases. An estimated 7,200 people had lost their lives. More losses, more deaths, it never ended.

Oguni watched his pad, which showed the talking head and upper torso of Benjamin Greenwood, the speaker for the EWG. The dub came through in real time and Oguni was able to follow easily. Benjamin began to finish up the report and moved on to the votes on new proposals, which was what Oguni had been waiting for.

He had presented the proposal two weeks ago and he had no doubt the vote would accept it. There really was no choice, they had nothing to lose and they were running out of ideas. The threat of annihilation was coming closer and closer to home, people were reaching out for a miracle.

The war had been going on for almost 6 years now and so many things had changed in that time. He looked around the recently completed meeting hall, a large room with at least 5000 seats in levels like a theatre. Benjamin stood on the stage at the back of the room. There was a podium and a huge 20ft square screen behind him that displayed stats and reports and more details like that. The room was crisp and clean, and coloured black and deep red, the colours of the EWG. Each individual sat in his/her own seat with their own desk. He felt like he was back in University.

Every country leader was present and sat in silence, their eyes flicking from the EWG board, who behind a long desk on the stage, and Benjamin. The board were made up of old men and women who ran the EWG. They organised the stats, meetings, implementing certain actions and event and a lot of boring ad hoc stuff. Oguni pitied them, they were so frail, so weak, they really had no idea how to win this war.

Oguni half listened as Benjamin's voice echoed around the room. The voting would follow shortly; the results would be presented immediately on the huge screen behind the EWG board.

Oguni looked up from his pad and around the room at the leaders of what passed for countries these days. To him, the words 'Fascist State' fit so much better. People have forgotten what democracy means. He understood why, people were afraid and when they're afraid they do stupid and desperate things. Countries he'd never thought would give up had given up. Some countries who'd become fascist almost overnight were ones he'd suspected would.

He was determined that Britain should remain a democracy, despite the power he now possessed. In his view, he already had too much but this was war and in war you can't spend months debating issues in the House of Commons and then the House of Lords, it just wasn't quick enough. But the people still had the power to vote him out, it was vital that this remained the case. Once you took away people's right to vote then fascism set in.

He could see in the faces of every leader that they too wanted to know the results of the vote too. They all sat eagerly; impatiently even, for Benjamin to finish. They wanted this vote to go through as much as Oguni did. He returned to his own pad and smiled. There was no way his proposal would be denied.

"...which brings us to our last section for this day; Section 7, 'Proposals'. The next stage of proposal GB447 submitted by Prime Minister Oguni of Great Britain on the 3rd February 2901 requires the advanced clone, ID 32117, otherwise known as Viltoris Tarr, to be send to Ganymede, ref G84RD and perform the tasks as indicated in part 4, paragraph 17iii. I need not tell you that this information is STRICTLY confidential. The votes has been cast and the results for this item, made today on the 27th June 2903, are as follows. For, 87%, against, 13%."

There was uproar from the others leaders, claps and cries of supports for Oguni. He smiled awkwardly and tried to avoid their eyes. The speaker continued his report as Oguni hurried out of the room. He didn't need to hear the rest, he had to start work.

He made his way to the road, with two clerks and four security guards. He still wasn't used to the fact that this ship had a road. A road, it was incredible! This was the biggest ship ever made by man. It stretched 12k, was 5k high and 3k wide, and it wasn't even finished yet. At the moment the EWG ship held almost 8000 people, there were meeting rooms such as the one he had been in, offices, houses, shops, restaurants and even a school. It was a floating city, or at least felt that way.

The road wasn't big, only two lanes, one going forward, one going back, but it was impressive none the less. Not many people had access to it however, it was only there to be used by officials, such as him, and the military, everyone else had to use the shuttle lifts, a sort of metro system that spread across the ship.

He waited for his car to arrive, got in and then sat back in the chair whilst his clerks talked amongst themselves. A security car accompanied him as his car made its way down the road. You could never be too careful, even on a government ship. He'd been told when first boarding the ship that sympathisers had started making serious threats, desperate and stupid people doing desperate and stupid things he thought. He hoped this new plan would change all that.

With the agreement of the EWG, he could now start things moving, though he'd had already set the wheels rolling. Viltoris would be here soon and so would Alak.

Oguni was a thinker. He didn't just focus on the now, he looked at the future, the past. And what's more, he was aware of his own failures. He knew that things never seemed to go the way they were meant too, that's why he always had a plan B, a plan C, a plan D and occasionally, a plan E. Alak was his plan B for this particular problem.

If he were found out, if the people discovered the truth, would they forgive him? He had been told by his team, told repeatedly by the free press, that the main reason he'd been elected and remained Prime Minster was that he was an honest man from humble origins. He was a man of the people who'd risen up and made it all the way to the top, the workingman's hero. Would this plan destroy that?

He stared out of the window, watching the sign posts go by. He wasn't ugly but wasn't exactly attractive either. He was dark skinned, tall with thin limbs, he had solid and proud facial features and bottomless eyes like two endless dark tunnels. There were the beginnings of a gut but it was only because of age. He had been a powerful man once but age and work and stripped him of it. He was now thin and tied. He was aged 46 but didn't look it, only in those bottomless eyes could you see times impact on him. He dressed in a suit, always, and composed himself with grace with a touch wit and cunning. There was the trace of his 'humble beginnings' in his speech, but it was buried deep.

The car began to slow and pulled off one of the side paths. They stopped outside a large set of glass double doors. The Prime Minister of Britain exited the vehicle and entered the double doors. He followed his clerk automatically while his brain kept thinking and planning. He walked the long and thick-carpeted corridors, around corners and through several security doors. The carpets were a deep red, the walls a fake mahogany, it looked like some country lodge rather than the huge metal ship that it was.

He reached his office block but before entering a clerk approached him.
"Sorry to bother you Sir."
"Please, go ahead."
"We've been told that Viltoris will be arriving a little ahead of schedule, he will be arriving in 4 hours.
"4 hours, I believe we expected them in 7?"
"Yes Sir, but they made up time through the belt, traffic's not that bad these days Sir, no one likes travelling."
"Indeed, it seems as if all exploration is on hiatus. Thank you Nancy, please make the necessary arrangements, I'll leave it in your capable hands."
"Yes Sir, thank you Sir."

The clerk left and Oguni entered the office block. He heard first then saw Katherine and Julian arguing at the front of the open office, nothing new there. He ignored it and head straight for his private office. Katherine and Julian paused for a moment as he walked passed. They saw the look and followed.

Oguni entered his office and was about to close the door when the two followers approached.

"Can we come in?" Julian asked.
"Do I have a choice?"
Julian smiled.
"Enter then...." he said with a sigh.

They sat around Oguni's desk, a large wooden piece of furniture, made from mahogany no doubt.

Katherine was unquestionably a beautiful woman. Jet-black hair, rich and full curves, bright eyes and a warm smile. How she was the sister of that mess of a man Julian was beyond him. Julian also had dark hair, but was unkempt and dishevelled. While Katherine dressed in smart fashionable cloths, carried ludicrously expensive bags and wore designer glasses, Oguni was lucky to see Julian in anything other than some black trousers, an un-ironed shirt and the same dull brown tie. Katherine kept herself fit, exercising regularly and eating healthily, Julian was overweight and seemed to live on a diet of sandwiches, crisps and pizza's, he didn't recall ever seeing Julian eating fruit. Katherine always looked stunning, Julian always looked as if he'd slept in his cloths and probably had.

"So, what's the news?" Julian asked impatiently.
"Straight to the point I see!"
"You know me, can't stand ideal chatter, let's hear it?"

Oguni couldn't help but smile, what a strange man Julian was, brilliant, wiser beyond his years, but very odd. He wondered if any other Prime Minister would allow his Minister of Defence to address him in that manner. Maybe the press were right, he was a commoner, a man from the slums and would always remain that way, he didn't hold with old style values and etiquette.

"It went as well as we had predicted, the vote was concluded with us being the victor."
There was a cheer from both.
"Finally! Know we can really get things going!" Julian cried.
"I concur, however, let us not get ahead of ourselves. There are still many long days and sleepless nights before us. I would prefer Lukus to be present before we go into too much detail, where is he?"
"He got called away, left in a hurry, not sure why?" Julian replied.
"Well when he gets back, we'll do a full briefing and then go from there. Katherine, I believe Viltoris is almost here. Best I think if you go meet him, he'll require an escort. I believe he is found of you which will make this whole business a lot easier. Julian, we have a few hours till the cabinet meeting, make sure you've got the latest military reports done. My guess is that it's depressing?"
"As always, big losses both in life and land. These guys are unstoppable!"
"Let's hope not, it'll be the end of life as we know it if they succeed. This isn't a fight for England, nor for the world, this is a fight for the survival of the human race, we cannot afford to give up, even in the darkest times, when there's only one man standing, we can't look fear in the face and shiver, we have to keep fighting!" his eyes were burning.
Julian and Katherine nodded.

The leader of any group, winning or losing, had to say things like that, even if he didn't believe it. You have to keep people motivated he thought, keep them determined and above all, you need to show them you aren't afraid. The truth was less black and white then that but it always was.

"Do you think Viltoris is prepared?" he asked.
"He's more than capable." Katherine replied with a voice as sweet as syrup, "He's like a tsunami, unstoppable. His strength, his reflexes, his hand-eye coordination, his intellect, its all at the highest levels. His personality is a bit...strange but I think that won't be an issue."
"Strange? Strange how?" Oguni asked.
"Just distant, dethatched. He seemed to be lost in thought most of the time."
" I don't think that's relevant, as long as he can perform adequately, the way we want him to, that's all we require from him. Now, I need to prepare for my meeting with Alak. When doesn't he arrive?"
"Within the hour, he's ahead of schedule because...." Katherine started.
"Let me guess," Oguni said, "less traffic around the belt?"
"Yes, it seems like people aren't flying as much anymore."
"Everyone's retreating, no one's moving forward. Soon, all 15 billion of us will be reduced to cowering in the corner in a dingy basement on Earth, not a pleasant prospect."
"Oh don't even think that. Earth is already over packed!" Julian cried.
"All this death and fear, for...." he trailed off with a shrug, his eyes focused on nothing. His fingers tapped a tuneless noise on the desk. It was a habit he had failed to stop. It meant one of two things, one he was lost in deep thought, and two, he was angry and holding himself. Most of his staff knew and at times feared the tap, tap, tap of his fingers.

Julian noticed the tapping and realised it was time to leave. He stood and indicated to Katherine that it was time to go.

"Right, well I've got to get going, with that report and all. Katherine, you better start preparing your, em, things and stuff," but Oguni wasn't really listening and just nodded and they left the room.

All this death and fear, he thought, what ever happened to the strong people, the fearless? Were they all dead? Were they the first to sign up for war and now lay dead on a moon, or floating in space or captured and held in some POW ship? No one's flying anymore and people are leaving colonies on the edge of the solar system to safer ground nearer earth. He didn't blame them, they were protecting their loved ones no doubt. He had no wife or children, no family really; just a brother and parents, but he hadn't seen them in years.

He distracted himself with some paper work until he got the call that Alak had arrived and was being ushered to one of his many meeting rooms. Oguni stood, gathered some files and left the office.
4 – 10.55AM, 27th June 2903

Alak had been shown into one of the meeting rooms, asked if he wanted coffee, tea, both of which he declined. He was told the Prime Minster would be along shortly. He nodded and sat. The room was square, small. There was a table, chairs. He sat, staring forward.

He was average height, about 6f 4" thin but with toned muscles, like a Kung Fu master rather than a heavy weight boxing champion. He had appealing features but was not classically handsome. His nose was small, as were his ears and he had thick black eyebrows. His hair was a little long and hung over his ears and forehead. It was black in colour but was peppered with strands of white hair. He wore a long sleeved t-shirt, dark, a light fashionable jacket, stained jeans and black shoes. He looked like an average person, he would blend in a crowd, just another face, no one would really notice him. It was a skill he'd perfected for years, it was vital to his trade.

Time passed. The door opened and Oguni walked in. Alak stood and shook the outstretched hand.

"Alak," Oguni said, "a pleasure to see you. Sit please."
They sat.
"Well I trust?" he asked, then, as if he'd just said something ludicrous, he smile and laughed a little to himself, feeling foolish for even asking the question.
"Yes, well never mind about that," he continued, "I read your report on your latest mission, a success it seems?"
"Yes, we succeeded," Alak replied.
His voice was bland, almost monotone.
To Oguni it always reminded him of those computer voices you get; it was human but didn't sound quiet real.
"Good, good...." he trailed off.
He often found himself doing so in Alak's company, Alak silence seemed to suck the words from his mouth before he could even say them. He quickly found his feet and continued.
"I know normally you have breaks in between missions, but time is against us on this one and I need to you to be ready as quickly as you can. I'm aware that you'll need to return to base to prepare yourselves but I hope it won't delay you too much. Viltoris will be leaving in 5 days, which should give you the time you need."

He opened the files he'd brought with him. They contained maps, graphs, and endless amounts of text.

"I won't bored you with the details...well I mean I won't...there's no need to go into the details now, is what I mean to say. The basics are as follows. A few months ago we put forward a proposal for a new weapon to the EWG. It's a person, an advanced clone to be exact. His has extra thick skin to keep in the cold and to withstand more damage, he's taller, stronger, smarter than the average soldier, an extra heart and an extra lung to help him...well, that's not important, you can read this at your leisure. The point is, he will be able to withstand more than anyone else living, and, if successful, could be the advantage we need to win this war. We got the approval today to test him. His name is Viltoris, he picked it himself from a book (the name of it escapes me at present). He will be arriving today and then will be leaving for Ganymede in 5 days."
"What is our part?" Alak asked.
"We need this mission to be a success, not just Britain, not just Europe or the world, but the entire human race. We have nothing; we are losing and have been losing this war for years. Everything we've tried has met with failure; we can't afford that to happen again. We know Viltoris and others that will follow will make a difference to the war, but if this mission fails for any reason, the EWG is likely to stop any more production of the clone or reverse its cloning policies completely. They are scared, as are we all, if things turn to chaos, it would be catastrophic; the EWG is likely to never take such a risk again and that would be the death of us all. I need you to make sure that this mission succeeds and if it doesn't...."
"You want us to cover this up, to terminate this Viltoris man before he can do any damage? To kill anyone there, any witnesses?"
Oguni nodded and then said;
"A harsh as it may seem it has to be done. We haven't time to sit debating another idea for months until we finally decide it's no good and then we have to start all over again. Viltoris is the key; he will succeed, just perhaps not first time round. You have to understand how important this is Alak? This could mean the end of the war!"

Later, Oguni reflected on why he tried to press this point so much, it wasn't as if Alak cared either way.

"So we will follow them, and watch them. If things go wrong, we move in and take them out? We will require every detail of their ship, of their route. We will need passwords, login details, and passes to restricted areas if we need them."
"I have it all here and more," he said closing the files and passing them across to Alak.
"Additionally," he continued, "if you manage to take Viltoris alive, it would be better for all of us, but I believe that may not be possible. Good luck."

Alak took them and then stood, Oguni did the same. They shook hands again and Alak left.

Oguni wasn't 100% comfortable with Alak and his team and hadn't been since he'd been voted in. Alak wasn't secret service or some special part of the military, he and his team weren't 'official'. He wasn't regulated or organised or kept under check by a council. Alak was, in the plainest of terms, a hitman for hire, his team, a group of mercenaries. In other words, they were assassins.

If Oguni needed something done, a terrorist taken out, a situation hushed up, a stolen item retrieved from some criminal, he would contact Alak or another team and things would get done, for a large fee of course. The world had changed so much in recent years, the rules relaxed. He was certain that the EWG knew about Alak and just didn't care. There were never any internal affairs investigations these days, not really an internal affairs department at all, there wasn't time or the man power. The war had forced the EWG to turn a lot of blind eyes.

What Oguni didn't like about Alak was that he didn't know what Alak was up to, he wasn't under Oguni's control, he didn't have to answer to him like everyone else in his team. Control was what Oguni graved and Alak robbed him of it. But for all the discomfort Oguni felt, Alak was needed.
5 - 11.07AM, 27th June 2903

After Alak finished his conversation with Oguni, he'd left and headed towards a shuttle lift to the ship terminal. As the shuttle lift moved along the EWG ship, Alak read over the notes Oguni had given him. He arrived at the terminal, boarded a bus to the nearest stop and walked the rest of the way.

He found his ship and walked up the ramp that led inside. He found Tsara and Yakama in the briefing room. Tsara was reading her pad and Yakama was hunched over the table fiddling with some device. They both looked up as he entered the room. Tsara spoke.

"All's well I trust," she said.
Alak nodded.
"Good. The moneys come in from Oguni so, what, back to Ceres now then?" she said.
"Yes." He replied and then added, "We have another mission however."
"What? We just go off this one, I thought we were taking a break?"
"Oguni said this is important."
"Aren't they all?"
"This one is different. Looks straight forward."
"And it can't wait?"
"We have 5 days to get back here."
"What sort of mission is it anyway?"
"A cover up, but only a small group of people."
"Cover up huh?" She enquired.
"Yes, but let's discuss this once we have started moving."
"Are we going to need any cells on this one?"
"No, just us."
"Wow, sounds like a fun job. What we waiting for?" she stood and headed for the cockpit.
6 - 12.17PM, 27th June 2903

After a long shower, Viltoris felt better. The dream had all but faded from his thoughts. His meal at breakfast had gone by with no incident but lunch time was approaching and Viltoris was getting hungry. A body like his require at least 4000 calories a day and he often ate more due to his rigorous exercise regime. He dressed and prepared himself to leave. Lunch time was always busy and with only an hour or so before they docked, people would want to grab a good meal before leaving the ship.

He pulled on some dark navy trousers, a white vest and a dark navy shirt. He was issued with his clothes; he was in the military after all. He put on his boots and left.

The interior of the ship was the same as most ships he had been in. To him it looked like the interior of a submarine. Cold grey metal walls coated in pipes and large rivets that held thick plates of steel together. The colour matched his mood.

When he first arrived on the ship he had been excited, he'd never been on a ship like this before, except when he was 14 and his father...no, that hadn't happened, that was just a false memory implanted in his brain. But he had been excited; his entire life up until this point had been spent in only one place.

For the last 18 months he had been at a medical facility on Earth. His false memory had told him he had volunteered for some medical research and had to be contained for a long period of time. It was obvious from the outset that this was a lie; he had only to look in a mirror to see no amount of drugs would make him look this way. But his time there had been pleasant so he hadn't concerned himself with the issue. There had been plenty of space, he had his own room, there was an entertainment area, a canteen, a training room, a firing range and even a garden with a small pond. His time had been spent learning maths, science, languages, medicine amongst many other things. He'd been heavily and intensely trained in unarmed combat, melee weapons, fire arms, explosives and computer hacking. He later found out that this was to do with muscle memory or something. He knew the information, he had been implanted with it in his head, but in order to retrieve it, he had to learn it again, to allow the neurons to connect sufficiently.

At first it had been difficult and frustrating, the combat especially. He knew how to fight, but his limbs moved awkwardly and clumsily and often with delay. He was beaten by his master every time and with ease for the first few months. Then he began to improve.

After 8 months he had beaten his master in unarmed combat, after 12 he was unstoppable. At this point he had been told he would need no further training but that didn't stop him. He devised new training method for himself, harder, more intense and completed them all.

He had been alone all this time, no other test subjects were at the facility. There were teachers, trainers and doctors who made regular checks to make sure everything was working the way it should, but he didn't really have anyone to talk to, until Katherine came. Oh Katherine...he wonder if she felt the same way as he did, probably not, she was a goddess walking amongst mortals, what interest could he possibly be to her?

She had arrived after 10 months to help run the last 8 months of the project. She talked with him as an equal. His teachers, the doctors, they all looked at him as a test subject and nothing more. She had been different. Their relationship blossomed and they became friends, though he had wished for more. It had been her who had told him the truth, the truth about who he was, where it had come from. He wasn't sure whether she was meant to have but she had.

He was so lost in thought, his eye's mind flashing with images of Katherine, that he almost walked straight passed the canteen. He glanced in and felt the stab of despair; it was busy, very busy.

As he entered he noticed all the eyes turn and look at him. Most went back to their conversations, but some stay staring. He joined the queue for food and when his time came, got double of everything.

Viltoris avoided eye contact and tried to find an empty desk, without luck. In the end he had to settle for the quietest table he could find. There were only 30 or so people on this ship and all seemed to be here right now. As he sat the bench gave a whine of protest.

Even though he was surrounded by people, he was alone. Everyone was talking to their neighbour, laughing and joking with each other. No one was talking, laughing or joking with him. He began eat his meal in solidarity.

The people on this ship were soldiers, the EWG army. They wore military outfits, smart, efficient, important, all in the EWG colours, red and black. What stood out the most were their boots. They were all knee high with a red rim on the top. For this reason and others, most people referred to them as Kicks. They came from all around the world, from America to Japan to Iran and China. At first only a few countries joined the EWG but once the war started to bring more and more casualties the world joined together. If the world was divided then all would lose, at least this way they stood a chance.

These Kicks had be just started their tour, leaving from Earth to who knew where. He didn't ask and didn't much care. They would stop off at the EWG mother ship and then once he'd departed, they would fly off to wherever they were going. These ones were foot soldiers, aggressive and overly confident.

As he ate, he noticed a group of perhaps four or five Kicks laughing and looking over at him. It was ridiculous really, he could pull of their limbs with his bare hands but that failed to affect their boldness. He heard so comments about the dumb giant, again ridiculous as he was probably smarter than them all put together. He finished his meal with heist and made his way to the exit. In his hurry to leave, he stumbled and almost fell on his face. There was an uproar of laughter and he heard someone shout 'Timbeeeer!!!'. He felt his cheeks redden as he exited the room.

A thought struck him; this would be the last time he would have to be subjected to this clonism. He cheered up and almost smiled. He wouldn't have to put up with these fools for more than another hour! Then he would leave and never look back.

He didn't know what his mission was, he had been ordered to go to the EWG ship so he had gone. He hoped it had been his choice but he knew it hadn't. There was little else he could do; it wasn't if he could just leave and get a job somewhere, the government owned him! In the end, do any of us have free will? Aren't we all bound by self established morals and unique experiences that give us the illusion of free will when in actuality those qualities mean we have to act that way, to make that decision based on our personality? He felt less sure of what free will meant these days, all his memories were false, did he act a certain way based on those false memories or on his own experiences over the last 18 months or was there something else? Possibly, but who knew.

He hurried back to his room to wait for the ship to dock.
7 - 13.57PM, 27th June 2903

Viltoris lay on his bunk, had been for the last hour, doing nothing, looking at nothing and thinking. The memories, they were so confusing. He knew they were fake but somehow they seemed real. He felt as if he had lived those moments, that trip across Europe, his first love, the loss of his father, but it was all lies. When he looked at those memories, it was as it had all been an act, one long film. He could see himself doing these things and knew that he had, but at the same time knowing that he hadn't. It was hard to understand.

But what was worse was trying to understand who he was. They say you are judged not by the things you say, but by the things you do. But all those memories, going to school, cheating in an exam, bulling his little brother, all were fake. How can he say what kind of person he was if he didn't even know who he was? Would he, now as the present Viltoris, have bullied his little brother, if he'd had one? Would he of cheated or was that just the fake him? Every time he had a decision to make he couldn't help but think back to what had happened to him before and he would have to stop himself and remember that it was all a lie, he hadn't really done any of those things.

It gave him a headache just thinking about it. Most of the time he tried not to but in times like these, when he was alone for long periods, he couldn't help it. Nature or nurture, that was the question? Would he kill someone, like his memory had suggested he would? His past self had been a solder, in the army before he'd volunteered for that experiment. He'd killed, would the present Viltoris? Was that part of his nature or was it because of his experiences? He old self seemed to crave instructions, lap up orders and he felt the same desire. Was this because he wanted to or was it programmed in his head so he would be obedient now? He didn't know.

The captain's voice came across the speak system and said they were arriving soon. He would see Katherine again and longed to do so. But she had been the one to tell him the truth, she had twisted his life, torn it apart and then rammed it back together and he had to try and cope with it alone.

The landing bays were huge domes, made of thick plastic and solid steel. To Viltoris they looked like fly eyes, all fragmented into hexagons or octagons or one of those, and held in place with thick metal shafts. He remembered them from his last visit, he and his troop had come to...no. No, that wasn't him, that was the old him, the false him. He felt so confused and angry, he wanted to scream, to get drunk and forget everything, to take away all the memories.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. For the first time in a long while, Viltoris was glad of the company. He moved over to the door and opened it. One of the crew saluted, avoiding eye contact. Viltoris recognised him as one of the group that had been laughing at him earlier.

"We're ready to depart if you would follow me," he said sheepishly.

Viltoris did so.

As they walked through the long winding corridors, Viltoris felt relief wash over him like a hot shower. He was finally leaving this damned ship. Not only that, he was to meet the Prime Minister face to face.

The PM had never come to the medical facility, although Viltoris knew Katherine worked for him. She had described him as a nice man, kind and honest. But he was clever too, he had a gift for strategy and cunning that left even the greatest con men envious, or at least that's what she said. He would have to be smart to make it all the way to the top, but whether he was really as smart as she said, well, he would find out soon enough.

They left the ship via a steep set of stairs and onto the concourse. It looked like a giant car park, a huge flat open space filled with a range of different ships, from small planet to moon shuttles to large truck-like cargo ships. He looked up as the airlock hexagons of the flies eyes opened and closed allowing ships in and out.

They boarded a small bus that transported them across the concourse and to the main terminal. The terminal was designed to impress and impress it did. It was a large open space with a tall ceiling. Large pillars lined the edged the right and left wall, purely for ascetics. A huge crest was spread across the white tiled floor, the crest of the EWG. Pieces of art hung from walls and statues and sculptures were places in various locations across the room. The sweet smell of lilac as well as the more intense smell of jasmine filled the air.

All this, however, was hidden behind a row of security guards with x-ray machines, security scanners, security bots and more. Even though Viltoris had been invited by the Oguni himself, he still had to be subjected to these security examinations. Terrorists were everywhere it seemed. He'd even heard that some were making serious threats to government officials, though whether they'd ever go through with their threats had yet to be seen.

Once through the security, they made their way passed all the art and towards to shuttle lifts. As they walked across the terminal, through the bustling people, Viltoris noticed several booths in between the pillars on the left and right had side.

He asked the Kick what they were.

"Oh them, there just information desks. You know, to help people get to different section of the ship. That one there is for book and attending meetings, that one for the leisure and entertainment parts of the ship, and that one there is for book a room for the night."
"Rooms? They have a hotel here?" he asked in surprise.
"Oh yeah, they've got about 3 or 4 of them I think, maybe more."
Viltoris was in awe of this ship and he hadn't even made it out of the terminal yet.

They reached the shuttle lifts and Viltoris again was taken aback by the vastness of this ship. The shuttle lifts were basically a metro system except they had the capability of travelling vertically as well as horizontally. Each lift could hold about 40 people. There were three lines going to different parts of the ship, red for business and government departments, green for entertainment and leisure and blue for living quarters and the hotels. Each line had 5 or 6 lifts that ran from end to end of the ship, stopping at each section of the ship along the way. He'd heard that there was also a road, but that couldn't be true.

Viltoris grow more nervous and excited as they got closer to the Prime Minister. They exited the lift and walked down the red carpeted corridors. He's never seen anything so majestic, his only experience with such décor was from magazine or screen shows, he'd only ever seen the white sterile style of the medical facility and the cold grey of the ship he'd just left.

Eventually they stopped outside a set of double doors where Katherine was waiting. He felt a flutter of joy when he saw her. She smiled such a beautiful smile that he almost blurted out his feelings for her there and then.

"Viltoris," She said, her voice was a graceful as he remembered. She moved towards him, arms out and gave him a brief hug. He embraced her greedily.

"I'm sorry, I was meant to meet you at the entrance but I was detained. Did you have a pleasant trip?"She asked.
He composed himself, recovering from the shock.
"Yes...." he replied eventually, "it was ok."
"Good, good. Please follow me." She said and turned.

He ceased the opportunity to glace at her curvaceous body lustfully as she walked ahead.

They passed through the double doors, through the corridor, through some more doors and finally arrived at a row of doors which led to meeting rooms. She showed him into one.

"Please take a seat, I'll go and get the Prime Minister, and we can begin."

He smiled a reply and she left.

The room was small, thin and long. There was a long table with several chairs and some device at one end. He guessed it controlled the large screen that took up most of the right hand wall. The room was styled the same as the corridors, red carpet and fake wood walls. He wondered how often these rooms were used he noticed the smell of fresh paint and new carpet. The ship had only been launched 6 months ago and rumour had it that it was still being built even now.

The door opened and Oguni entered. Viltoris immediately stood up and automatically saluted, he had been in the army after all. Katherine followed and another man came in after. Viltoris recognised the other man, he had been on the news.

"Viltoris, no need to salute. Katherine Galdia Minister for Science and Technology, you of course know, this is Julian Galdia, Minister for War."

So it was her brother! She had talked about him and Viltoris had seen him on the news but he'd never put the two together. They looked nothing alike, apart from the hair colour and the eyes; they could be completely different people. Maybe they were from different mothers or fathers or something.

"Sit, please," Oguni said.
"Would you like anything, a drink perhaps?" Oguni asked politely. "No thank you Sir."

Oguni nodded then he began to speak. His was direct, careful not to stutter, stumble or hesitate. He spoke in the manor of a man who believed he knew all the answers. Viltoris wondered what that felt like, to think you know everything.

"We are at a vital stage of the war Viltoris. The enemy seems to be unstoppable force, an immovable object. We have won some battles yes, but we have lost more. They have clawed their way across the solar system one moon at a time and we have no way of stopping them. Up until now, our only saving grace has been that we outnumber them at least 100 to 1, but now, well, our numbers are a lot slimmer whilst theirs remain almost unchanged. They have taken almost all the moons of Saturn and it's only a matter of time until they head for Jupiter and begin their invasion. If we are not prepared, we will lose that as we have Saturn, that will not happen, it cannot happen! If we lose Jupiter then we lose any chance of winning this war. Death hangs over us all and we must do what we can to ward him off and to finally free us of his haunting glare. You, Viltoris, you are our hope and what may be our last."

"We have a mission for you Viltoris, one that could help us to turn this war around. Katherine has the upmost confidence in you and I trust her judgement above almost anyone else. However, I feel we should be caution, to start with small steps rather than giant leaps. The mission we have is important, but it will be significantly simpler then missions to come. Julian, if you will?"

Julian stood and pressed some buttons on the device on the table. As Viltoris has suspected, this brought the screen to life. It displayed a horizontal view of the solar system. Between Jupiter and Saturn, there was a thick line. To the right of the line the display had a tint of green, to the left a tint of red. Between Mars and Jupiter was the crest of the EWG.

"This is an up to date view of our solar system." Julian explained, "This line indicated the border between us and the aliens. The red side, with the exception of Titan, is what is currently controlled by the aliens, the green is still free. It's only a matter of time before they make for Jupiter. Our concern however, is with the biggest of Jupiter's moons, Ganymede."

At this point the image zoomed so that Ganymede filled the entire screen.

"As you may know we have only recently started colonising Ganymede and at present there are only 570 colonies on the moon and 134 power plants which use the ungrounded ocean to generate power. Each colony has a war factory, each providing bullets, rockets, even fighter ships. If we lose Ganymede then we've lost any hope of keeping Jupiter. So far there has been no sighting of an alien assault but that may have changed. As I'm sure you are aware, the alien's strategy seems to have shifted of late. Before they simply bombarded a moon, destroying all the defences then simply taking it, but the last 8 or more attacks have seen the aliens depending on ground troops. We are not sure why they have made this change, possibly they are running out of bots and ships or maybe all the ships are holding their captured moons, or perhaos they are simply bored of space to surface assault and want to get in on the action, whatever the reason, we have to keep an eye out for strange events."

The image zoomed again and focused on the west of the south pole of Ganymede.

"One of the colonies is located here."

The image displayed a small round.

"It's a small colony, only about 2 or 3 levels I believe and with the designation Colony 17. The square one area to the lift is meant to be deserted, empty, but our troops keep disappearing when out on expeditions. We don't know why but we believe that there may be an alien base there. We don't know how big or how fortified but we need to find out before it's too late."

He sat down, the display still showed an enlarged image of the small colony and the empty space indicated by a red circle.

"The issue of clones has always been a delicate one." Oguni said, "People tend to form one of two opinions. Some say you have no rights, some say you have to same as people born; I am of the latter opinion. Therefore, I want you to decide what you want to do. If you feel, once you have heard the mission that you don't not wish to be involved then say so. I can get you a job elsewhere if you desire, I can...."

"Sir," Viltoris interrupted, "if I may interject."
"By all means."
"I am soldier, even though I am aware that my past is a false one, I am trained, I am prepared to fight, that is what I do and what I want to do. But more to the point, I have seen the war on the news, seen the death toll and am aware of the strength of the enemy. If I can help, even in the smallest way, then I will."

If they realised it was a lie then he couldn't tell. Viltoris had no interest in the safety of the human race, he cared little about the missing Kicks, what gripped his heart and squeezed it was the image of Ganymede. Viltoris had almost stood up when the image of Ganymede had first appeared. All eyes had been on the map and no one noticed Viltoris struggling with himself. Ganymede, that's where he had to go. The pulling he had felt before was nothing compared to what he now felt. He had to go, regardless of the dangers, he had to be there. Although he still didn't understand why.
8 - 08.52AM, 28th June 2903

Tsara was lying in her bunk reading from her pad. She was in her pyjamas with the cover pulled over her to keep in the warm. She spent most of her time reading while on this tiny cramped ship. The rooms weren't so bad, Yakama the constant tinkerer, had made sure of that, but they were small. Her room, like all the others, contained a bunk, a chest of draws, a built in wardrobe and a small bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet.

The ship had three bedrooms, one for each of them, a briefing room that doubled as a dining room and general lounge, a tech room which also stored the weapons, a cockpit (obviously) and that was it. The rest of the ship was taken up with engines and weapons. The ship was small, but it was fast and powerful, again, Yakama had seen to that.

She was half way through a chapter in 'To kill a Mocking Bird' when an announcement came from Alak over the speaker system. His dull droning voice declared that they were an hour away. She sighed, marked her place on the pad, and switched it off.

She showered and dressed. Unless on a job, she always dressed in baggy and frankly unflattering cloths. She put this down to a childhood with four male cousins, either that or the job. There weren't exactly many women in her profession, what with being a killer for hire, and she felt she had to fit in with the men. Whatever the reason, she looked like a tomboy, her curves hidden by her loose clothing. She never, again unless on a job, wore makeup.

Even though she never felt it or dressed for it, she was beautiful. Her Italian heritage had given her olive skin and thick curly brown hair, which she always tied back. Her job meant she was well toned and stayed that way. But it was her eyes that made her truly beautiful. They were big green grey eyes that seems could pierce the soul of any man. They dug down, took hold and pulled you close despite all your attempts to withstand them.

But most of her beauty was hidden on a day-by-day basis, only her eyes remained fierce and enticing.

She threw on her loose long-sleeved t-shirt and baggy jeans, pulled her hair back and headed to the cockpit.

She found Yakama at the controls as usual. He nodded at her as she came in but said nothing. Yakama spoke very little and most of his replies were grunts and shrugs. Alak sat beside him in the co-pilot seats staring forward. His dead eyes turned to look at her and he smiled, then said hello and turned back.

The smile and the hello were so empty, so hollow. He never truly meant it but felt culture and customs demanded that he had to.

Ceres appeared through the mass of asteroids that made up the belt between Earth and Mars. It was strange to think of this icey wasteland as her home. No one lived here, it was too unsafe. Rogue asteroids often struck one another and the Kick ships were too big to get through. Theirs however, had been designed, by Yakama, to fly through the floating spinning rocks. Small and fast, that was the key.

The three sat in silence as they approached their home. It was buried deep inside the dwarf planet, through the ice and into the rocky core. They lived deep enough inside to never feel the impacts of smaller asteroids and hidden enough so that not even Oguni knew where they were. It was home because it was safe.
Chapter 2
1 – 08.23AM, 1st July 2903

Alak woke and looked at the clock, 8.23AM. He got up and exercised for half an hour then showered and dressed. He wore black jeans, a white shirt, a dark navy jacket that had military straps on the arms and heavy black boots. He left his room and moved to the main room. He made breakfast in the kitchen. He had porridge, fruit and a tall glass of orange juice. He sat at the table and ate.

After about 10 minutes Tsara came in. She said good morning and he replied a good morning. She made breakfast and joined him at the table where she ate and read from a pad.

More time passed and then Yakama entered. He made himself breakfast and joined them at the table.

After everyone had finished eating Alak said
“We are leaving at midday; we need to follow Viltoris at a respected distance. Yakama, are the shifter batteries charged?”
He nodded a yes.
“Good. I will begin loading supplies,” and he stood and got to work.
2 – 11.18AM, 1st July 2903

Tsara sipped the third glass of whiskey of the morning while sitting is her soft fabric armchair. She’d packed all her cloths on the ship already so all there was to do now was wait. Alak was very punctual; when he said midday he meant 12 on the dot so she always packed in advance.

Deep red drapes hung from the white walls of her room. The ceiling was as white as the walls and warm rich rugs lay scattered across the smooth wooden floor. Art and sculptures from far reaching ends of the solar system hung and stood around the room. A homemade bar took up one corner or the room complete with stools and a pump. She always kept it stocked.

One side of the wall was occupied with a flat screen, which she’d dumbed the ‘window’. Currently the window showed a normal street from earth with a normal pavement, normal trees, with normal people passing by. It made her feel like she was the same as everyone else, that her world was one filled with calm and serenity rather than one filled with death and fear. Not only did the screen show the life she’d lost but it also created the atmosphere. It filled the room with sounds, smells and sensations that made her forget that she was berried down in the dark.

Although she had various settings on this device, an empty meadow, a flowing stream, of falling rain, she found herself drawn to the street, the simple scene of every day life.

While being buried underground had its advantages, she was still down a hole. But it wasn’t like the base was cramped, far from it. Down here there were 3 other rooms then hers, a workshop, a kitchen/dining/meeting room, a firing range, a gym, a number of storage rooms, a basement with generator, air filters, water purifiers and more firepower then they’ll ever need. There was nothing for pleasure, it was all work, always work.

She’d picked her weapons from the vast range that was at her disposal. She’d selected a M16-11, a rifle with a scope, a Desert Hawk magnum and the classic Buretta. She wore the pistols in holsters at her hips and the rifle across her back. Athough at present they all lay on the bed. She’d also packed enough ammo to kill an army. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to.

On the small beautifully hand carved coffee table beside her lay the shifter bracelets, one of Yakama’s inventions. She hated them because if she used them it meant that she had to be close and she hated killed close up. It wasn’t because she was afraid; in her career she’d killed dozens at close range. It was because killing close up meant you got to see their faces, you got to see the look of pain and confusion. The faces were burnt into her memory and would never faded.

Not for the first time and by no means the last time, she wondered what her life would have been like if her parents hadn’t been killed, if she hadn’t moved in with her uncle and her four male cousins at the young age of 8. She’d be a normal person she supposed, working 9 till 5, a house, maybe a dog, a husband...she downed the rest of her whiskey and thought about making another. But she they had to leave shortly and she already felt the effects of what she’d swallowed so far, anymore and she wouldn’t be able to walk straight.

She stood, a little shakily, and decided to change. She pulled on some lose light camel coloured cargo trousers, a white t-shirt and a light grey jumper that was two sizes too big. With a little resentment, she picked up the bracelets and put them on, one on each wrist. They were thick, wide and metallic silver. They were more like gauntlets then bracelet.

She moved to a chest of drawers and pulled out the bottom one. She glanced inside, found the ring she was looking for, and closed the drawer. This ring had saved her life on several occasions and she thought she about wearing it all the time.

It was another one of Yakama’s inventions. It looked like a normal gold ring with a flat disc of red stone on the top. However, if she twisted the stone three times, a needle shot out the bottom of the ring. If she pressed the palm of her hand against someone’s skin, they would be injected with some sleeping drug and bang, down they’d go. She could use it three times before it needed refilling. What a mind Yakama had!

She felt slightly ashamed of how little she knew Yakama. They’d met almost at the same time she’d meet Alak all those years ago. She knew Yakama, she knew about his family, about his goals, about his abilities but those were just fact, they weren’t him. He didn’t talk much, that was the issue. There had been occasions when they had gotten drunk together and talked, but that didn’t happen often and hadn’t happened for years. She felt he wasn’t really interested in talking, just wanted to fix and alter things. He’s spent years on the Borgon and still wasn’t satisfied with it.

She wondered if he didn’t talk much or if he just didn’t talk much to her and Alak. Yakama wasn’t a killer, he was the engineer, the fixer. He spent time creating new weapons, hacking into systems and monitoring things from a safe distance. He’d never killed anyone, never even raised a gun to anyone as far as she was aware. Maybe he didn’t talk to them because he didn’t know how? How do you talk to a killer? What do you say?

Well, time to leave now. She switched off all her equipment, glanced at her fake window one more time, then left. Hurried back in, grabbed a half bottle of whiskey and left again.
3 – 13.11AM, 3rd July 2903

Viltoris walked down the twisting corridors of the EWG. The last few days he’d spent isolated like he had done on the journey here. He’d told them he was going over reports but he hadn’t. For most of the time he’d been staring at images of Ganymede.

He’d become obsessed with it, having to look at it at least 50 times a day. He had to go there! He’d been to so many places in his life but...damn it, those memories again, they kept leaking in. All the lies were turning into truths and all the truths were turning into lies. But to him, none of it mattered. Once he was on the ship and heading towards Ganymede all would be well, he could feel it.

He would have been happy to spend his entire time in his room but with only 3 hours left till the departure he felt a desire to explore the ship, he may never get another chance to see it after all. But there was another reason, the urge to move that he had felt since he’d existed had now become almost impossible to ignore. He’d had to resort to ways of distracting himself, watching the Screen, reading, drawing, writing, singing, exercising and many other things. He was like a man bored at his job and finding ways to waste time till he could go home again, just to wake up the next day and do it all again. He had to get out of that room, if only for a few hours.

After a few more turns he found the entrance to the high street and went through. He was amazed at what he saw; it was like a high street on earth, like Oxford Street in London. The floor was covered in fake cobblestones, the building were made of fake bricks. There were shops, restaurants, café, bars, cinemas, bowling alleys...the list went on and on. It was one long road and stretched from the front all the way to the end. In the centre was a small park with a fountain. It was crowded with people, all moving back and forth like ants in an ant farm.

Viltoris immediately felt agoraphobic, he’d never seen this amount of people in one place at once. He panicked, he tried to turn and come back the way he had but he’d already walked down the road a few meters and couldn’t see the side corridor he’d come from for all the people marching up and down. His heart raced, his breath shortened, his blood boiled. A fat man bumped past him and spun him around. Viltoris tried to apologise but the man had already gone. A group of woman, all laughing almost crashed into him, a small child with his mother, an old man, a young couple, a group of kids. He tried to avoid everyone but fear had gripped him and he just ended up looking like a scared cornered animal.

He finally managed to see a way out. He heaved his way through the crowds like an icebreaker ship. He was followed by shouts of annoyance and complaints but he didn’t care, he just needed to get out. He lost count of the number of feet he trod on and the number of things he knocked out of people’s hands. All that mattered was the corridor and getting away from people.

He managed to get across the street and dived into a side corridor. He collapsed to the ground and breathed. He was sweating, his heart echoed in his ears, his vision was blurry and he felt like vomiting. He could still see the crowd move from where he sat, it made his stomach turn, so he pulled himself away and clambered to his feet and staggered back into the ship.

But where was he now? He scanned the walls, looking for some sort of map or indication of his location. He needed to find a metro to get back to his room, or maybe there was a library nearby, somewhere quiet, maybe there...then he saw her. The panic seemed to leave him immediately. She was wearing her blue suit today, the one with the black buttons and the large collar. The shoes were new, he noticed, he’s not seen them before. Katherine was reading from a pad and walking towards him. His heart suddenly began to race again. He smiled and approached her.

She didn’t notice him at first, which was surprising considering his size, but when she did she gave him a sweat smile. Viltoris felt like he’d be punched in the stomach. He smiled back and warmly as he could manage.
“Vil, its so nice to see you again, I didn’t think I’d get a chance before you left.”
“Hi Katherine, it’s good to see you too.”
He thought quickly of something to say, but his mind was blank. Fortunately she broke the silence for him.
“What are up to Vil, exploring the high street? Amazing isn’t it?”
He shifted his feet uncomfortably then said a little shaky.
“Emm, yes, it’s something alright. To be honest it’s a bit much, a bit too busy. I was looking for a bit to eat but with so many people I doubt I’ll find anywhere; do you know a good place?” He said.

Maybe they could have some food and drinks before he left. Maybe they could even arrange to meet after he got back for a proper dinner, all dressed up. He imagined her in an elegantly and glamorous cocktail dress, her dark hair hang in curls a strand or two hugging her cheeks, her lips red, her eyes beaming brightly like dying stars. They would talk and dance, the day would slide into night and...he snapped out from his day dream, she had said something.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked.
“I said there’s a good place down the portside, near section IND 12.1, they sell good soups and salads, if you like that stuff. Else there’s a Big Eat opposite.”
“That sounds great thanks.”
More silence.

Should he ask her, maybe she was waiting for him to do so? She’d always been kind to him; maybe she felt the same after all? She had been the one who had told him the truth and she had told him he was a clone, that had to have meant something? She wouldn’t have spent all that time with him just for the job, there had to be more!

“Vil, are you ok?” there was concern in her voice.
He hesitated; his mouth had already forming the first letter of his question.
“Err..yes, yes I’m fine. The crowd, it got to me a bit. I’ve never seen that many people.”
“I think you should rest yourself. Maybe you should go have lay down something, you’re looking a little pale?”
She tilted her head slightly.
He nodded and replied a rather feeble.
“I err...”
“I think maybe you should take it easy. I’m sorry but I had better go, I have lots of work to do.” She smiled again and began to walk away.

A sudden anger filled Viltoris. THAT was it, not even a goodbye? She was just going to walk away after everything they’d gone through. He could die out there, didn’t she care! He felt betrayed, abandoned by the only one that had ever shown him kindness.

He watched her leave, the anger filled him but he was too afraid to do anything about. He loved her and even though she obviously didn’t care about him, he couldn’t ruin the only good thing he had. When she was out of sight he left out a muffled cry of anger, then, solemnly, turned and moved away, back to his room or to the docking port or the meeting room or anywhere, anywhere any from here!

He had made it half way back to the landing bays when he thought that maybe she did like him after all, maybe his years of being a solider had given him a course demean? Who was he kidding, it wasn’t anything like that. She was a minster, a member of the government, she had her pick of the bravest, strongest and intelligent men, she could do better than a foot soldier.

This mission however, it could change everything. He would be considered a hero, the man who helped human claim back what was theirs, the man who would drive the enemy out of the solar system and back to wherever they came from. Once he had done all that, she’d be a fool not to love him.
4 - 16.36PM, 3rd July 2903

The room was virtually silent, not even the ticking of a clock (something Oguni personally couldn’t stand). The only noise came from the engines, the vents and the occasional click of a button on the pad Oguni was reading.

He was meant to be reading the opening speech Nadia, his PA and speech writer, had written for debate but it was over a week away and they still had the 5 day trip to Earth. So instead, he was reading over the notes from the last cabinet meeting, if you could even call it that! Most of his cabinet were good people, but the pressures of war had turned many into ‘yes men’, unwilling to challenge most of what Oguni recommended.

There was a knock at the door. Oguni put his pad down and said.
“Enter.”

Lukus Derka entered.
Oguni beamed and stood to greet him.

Lukus Derka was an old friend of Oguni. They had met when Oguni was a student and Lukus was a Lecturer’s assistant almost 20 years ago. They had become friends but had lost touch when Oguni had graduated. It wasn’t until Oguni became an MP that they met again, and it wasn’t until Oguni became PM that they worked together. Lukus position was officially the Deputy Prime Minister but he was more of a chief aid and consultant. He seemed to have knowledge of everything that was happing in the government and was involved in most of it in some way.

Lukus was dark like Oguni but he was taller and broader. He was older too, by a good 10 years and it showed. He had more wrinkles then Oguni and there were tuffs of grey hair at the temples and his hair was receding. Age had also added pounds to Lukus, his belly stuck out twice as much as Oguni’s and he had a fat built up around his face. He was smart, cunning and immediately likable which helped him get information he required. It also seemed that everyone owed Lukus a favour and were always willing to help him out. Oguni wasn’t sure what deals Lukus was doing to get all these favours and didn’t ask. He ran a smooth ship, that’s all Oguni cared about.

“How are things Lukus.” Oguni asked as they took their seats.
“The same I fear. Howli is still adamant about the new factory taxes being too high and Beatforn is supporting him, but that’s nothing new.”
Oguni nodded.
“I tried to explain the budget but you know Howli, he’s stubborn.”
“Well at least he speaks his mind.”
“Yeah but what a mind!”
Oguni smiled.
“I’ve been perusing the minutes, I’m sure there’s something we can tempt him with. That aside, what’s the latest with regards to Viltoris? He should have left by now, correct?”
Lukus looked away and shifted in his seat.
“What is it?” Oguni asked.
“Well...a few hours ago there was an incident,” he said carefully.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Katherine, she saw him not too long ago, she said he seemed a bit strange. He was pale, sweating, looking out of sorts. I took a look on the security system and it looks like he had some sort of panic attack.”
“I see. What did he say to Katherine?”
“Nothing much, just the usual. But the EWG troops, they also said he was acting strangely on their ship. Shutting himself off in his room all the time. Barely sleeping, odd things like that. To be honest, I think Viltoris is unstable.”
“You’re basing this on this one incident and some comments by a EWG troops full of men with less than average intellects?”
Lukus could see Oguni was getting angry so he spoke with care.
“I feel he may not be in complete control of his faculties. You know what the scientists said would happen if we tell him the truth about his origin, about him being a clone.”
“I am aware Lukus, as well you know. Are you proposing we cancel the whole mission because he seemed odd to Katherine? Are you certain that he is unstable, isn’t it more likely to be something else. He is a man correct? Katherine is a woman and a beautiful one at that. She’s broken a few hearts I dare say, and most I feel are through no fault of her own. The two spent a lot of time together at the research base; maybe this led to Viltoris becoming emotionally attached to Katherine. Maybe his odd behaviour was a result of more mundane base issue rather than anything more serious?”
“Maybe but....”
“Lukus, trust me, things will go as expected. Get the EWG troops to watch him if you feel it is necessary but I’m not prepared to sacrifice years of work on this, are we clear?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good, now unless there’s something else, we need to go through these reports.”
“Well as a matter of fact, there is something?”
Oguni sighed.
It had been a long day and he just wanted it to be over.
“What is it?” he said.
“It’s something that started a few months ago. I received a message from some reporter. He said he had information about a terrorist attack that was meant to happen that week. I asked for more details but he said he would only give them to us if we got him an interview with you. We get things like this from time to time so I just ignored him. There was no terrorist attack so I put it down to him trying to scam an interview out of us. However, last week he sent me another message, this time saying the attack had been postponed and was meant to take place this week. This time I told him where to go. An hour later he sent me a video file. I watched it. It’s only about 2 minutes long and it’s pretty blurry. It seems to be focused on the ground so you can’t see anyone’s face but, you can still hear them.”
“And what do you hear?”
“They planning an attack and it’s an attack on you.”
“What did the MI6 say?”
“They don’t know about it, I thought I’d run it by you first.”
“I see, well let’s just send it to them and be done with it.”
“The thing is sir, all we get is a target from the video, nothing more. If we want more information then we need to meet with him, do the interview.”
“Lukus, I’m not dealing with this directly, are you mad? I get threats like this all the time, just let the police deal with it.”
“I would sir but he also gave me another piece of information.”
“And what is that?”
“A name.”
“Ok?”
“Sir, its Eric.”
“Eric? Eric who? You don’t mean my brother Eric!”
“Yes Sir.”
“He’s a target?”
“No Sir.”
“What then, he’s involved! That’s even insane!” he cried furiously.
“I know sir, but he claims to have footage which includes Eric. He’s not involved directly; the truth is he may not even realise he’s involved at all!”
“WHAT!” he exclaimed.
“I mean, Sir, that this reporter claims to have footage of Eric involved in illegal activity that aids the terrorist. There’s also meant to be footage of him in meetings with some of the terrorist leaders. It’s likely Eric just did the job to make some money and didn’t realise what these men are planning. You can see why I didn’t go directly to the police with this.”
“Yes, yes of course,” he said in a much calmer tone.
There was a moment of silence before Oguni asked the million dollar question.
“Is this genuine?”
“We can’t be certain until we speak to the reporter, in fact, he’s heading here now.”
“Now?”
“Yes Sir, he messaged me while on route. Should be here early tomorrow morning and he’ll need clearance to land.”
“He’s got guts that reporter! My god, if it’s true...ok, I’ll meet with him privately, I do not want anyone else finding out about this, if anyone enquires, well, use your imagination.”
“And Eric, should I start....”
“No, no, leave Eric to me. I will speak with him. Keep it out of the police for now but we may be required to pull a few favours if Eric is involved, I don’t want him back inside again.”
“Sir, I know he’s your brother but if he is involved then....”
“Then god help him. I can keep him out but it’ll cost him. Let’s just hope this man has nothing up his sleeve!”

They went through reports and data for an hour or so before Lukus started putting his things away and left.

Although Oguni had been following Lukus comments on the financial situation, he couldn’t help but be distracted with the thought of Eric’s involvement in some terrorist plot. With Eric’s record, he could be put away for life.

Eric had been in trouble many times before but the last time had been the worst and had resulted in 4 years inside. Eric never forgave him for it, it had been Oguni who’d put him there. He’d felt it was the right thing to do at the time and still believed it now but that didn’t make things easier, made it worse in fact. Eric had been released almost 5 years ago now and had seemed to be playing it straight, but if this report had something on him he needed to find out and before the press got hold of it.
5 - 07.40AM, 4th July 2903

It was only his second day on the ship but Viltoris already felt a lot calmer then he had in days. It was partly because he was heading in the right direction, towards where he wanted to be, but it was mainly because of the ship and its crew.

The ship was a new class of scout ships called ‘Rapids’. They were an incredible sight to see. Not the interior that was pretty much the same as the other ship, but the exterior was something else. To Viltoris it looked like a squid swimming through space, long trailing tentacles and a bullet shaped body. It was faster than anything before it and those tentacles allowed it to adjust its position quickly and efficiently. It wasn’t heavily armoured or heavily armed, but it didn’t need to be, it was a scout ship, it only needed to move quickly and it did the very well.

The last ship had been hell but this one was different, he didn’t feel as if he stood out as much. Maybe Oguni briefed the crew, perhaps warned them about his appearance or they just didn’t care? Whatever the reason, they treated him with respect. They were different too, they weren’t just grunts like those he’d been stuck with before, these were intellectuals. One of Viltoris genetic enhancements had been intellectual and while he was in the medical centre surrounded by doctors and scientists, he hadn’t found it difficult to converse with people. When he’d stepped on that other ship he’d found it difficult to start or join in any conversation, although he did have a knack for ending them. However, once he’d stepped on this ship he knew the people here were different and immediately felt relaxed.

It was similar to when he was young. His father had just gotten a new job which meant that they could now afford to send Viltoris to a better school. He’d felt out of place in his old school but in the new one it was so much better, the classes were better, the people politer, everything was just better...well, that didn’t happen, it was another false memory, but his point remained true. He felt happy, at least for now. He’d not had a chance to speak to the people but he knew he’d fit in. Things would be better for him here and once he got the Ganymede things would get even better.

He’d still been having the dream but it no longer frightened him, he was just curious as to where these images had come from and why they never left him. He would find out there.
6 – 09.11AM, 4th July 2903

Oguni’s fingers did they’re tuneless tap, tap tapping as he sat in silence and thought. The reporter, a man named Gavin Spencer, would be here within the hour and he, Oguni, still hadn’t contacted his brother.

The thought of speaking to him after all this time made his stomach ache and his brow sweat, but what choice did he have.

He looked around his office. A big wide room, expensive solid mahogany desk, priceless pieces of art hanging on the walls, tall bookcases full of paper books if you can believe that and what did his brother have, a small shoebox flat in the middle of the dirtiest part of London.

He’d tried to help his brother out but Eric wouldn’t have it, he didn’t want Oguni’s charity, not now, not ever. As much as Oguni had control over everyone in the government, his co-workers, reporters, the police, he had no control over his brother and that amused his brother to no end. He was a selfish stubborn brat, jealous, envious and too proud to ask for help. That was part of the reason they hadn’t spoken in years, the other reason being the fact Oguni had put Eric behind bars.

He blamed Eric’s behaviour on their upbringing. Poor parents, a damp dirty home, crime and violence in abundance, it wasn’t a wonder how Eric fell into it. His parents owned a small shop in Brixton, London. They never made much money, just enough to pay bills and rent. His father was a proud man, coming from less than nothing to owning a business, even if they never made any money. His dream was to pass the business on to his oldest son, William, who would in turn pass it on to his oldest son and so on. But at the age of 9, William showed signs of intelligence beyond his years. Eric became jealous as all siblings do on such occasions but he got over it, even started boasting about his brother’s talent for a while.

However, at aged 11 it was clear that Oguni needed to be sent to a school that would make the most out of his intellect; they only problem was such a school demanded a large amount of money. His parents worked to the bone to pay for the school and Oguni went on to prove himself and find his way to the top. But paying for Oguni meant money couldn’t be spent on Eric. As a result, his brother suffered. While his brother was off to an expensive school Eric was stuck in the local one where he became distracted from school work and began to get involved in petty crimes. He got caught by the police on numerous occasions throughout his teenage years but it wasn’t until about 10 years ago when things started to go from bad to worse.

Oguni’s fingers continued their tap tap tapping on the Prime Ministers desk as he worked out what to say to his brother. Finally he gave up and just bit the bullet. He dialled Eric’s home number, (he’d had to get that through Lukus) and waited.

It was answered shortly by a click and then the face of Eric appeared on the pad.
“Hello, who is this, I...Oh it’s you.” His brother said.
“Hello Eric.” Oguni replied.
“Hello Mr Prime Minister, how nice of you to call. You want my vote in the next election, well now I didn’t realise you made personnel calls to all you potential voters...”
“Eric please.”
“Oh I do beg your pardon Sir,” he said through gritted teeth, “I didn’t realise this was a personal call.”
It had started already.

Once Oguni had graduated and moved out he’d visit his father, mother and Eric as often as he could, but it always ended up the same. He would say something and then Eric would chip in with some sarcastic comment and then the bickering would start, back and forth, back and forth. His mother would try to calm people down but would give up after a few minutes. His father would sit in silence and occasionally nodding. His father never vocally agreed with his brother but it was obvious whose side he was on. Oguni started visiting less and less often until he just stopped going at all. It had been two years since he’d seen any of them. He spoke to his mother sometimes but he hadn’t spoken to Eric or his father once.

“Eric please, this is important.”
“Oh sorry, of course, please go on, you’re obviously busy being the Prime Minster and everything, I feel grateful to have just a moment of your precious time.”
“Eric, it’s imperative that we talk without all this infantile bickering.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Your cleaver little words may impress your fellow minsters but it don’t impress me. I realise how ashamed you are being from here and want to pretend you’re all posh and what not but if you want something from me just speak like a normal person.”
“Fine,” he replied, his polite graceful tone lost for a moment, “look Eric you know I wouldn’t call you unless it was important and it is important.”
“So you don’t want a little catch up, see how I’m getting on?”
Oguni sighed, this was going as well as he had expected.
“Not right now there....”
But his brother ignored him and carried on in a mocking tone.
“Well I tell you. Life’s been pretty tough to be fair. At present I’m stuck working in dad’s shop, not that he’s signed it over to me, not yet. I want to get out, you know, make something of me self, but it’s a bit tricky what with me having a criminal record and all.”
He just knew, knew Eric would find a way of bringing up this up.
“You see.” he carried on “I got this criminal record you see because my brother....”
“Eric stop.”
“BECAUSE MY BROTHER DOBBED ME IN! Yeah that’s right, my own brother gave me up!”
“Eric, you’d broken the law, what did you expect me to do?”
“Well I don’t know, maybe, NOT GIVE ME UP!”
“Can we leave this issue please, I have something to speak to you about.”
There was a moment of silence while Eric considered this, then he said.
“Fine, what do you want?”
“Ok. Now before I say anything, I’m not expressing any opinion on this, I just want to ...e you the facts. A reporter presented one of my staff with footage of a terrorist attack. But he also,” and he took a deep breath and braced for impact, “he also said that there was evidence of your involvement.”
The silence that followed was worse than any screaming and shouting Eric could have done.
Eric licked his lips and in a voice far too calm said.
“Terrorism, you’re saying that I’m a terrorist?”
“No, Eric, not at all. All I’m saying is that this reporter claims to have evidence of your involvement. Not in the act of terrorism you understand, just involved with the individuals. Maybe funding or a job you did with them or...”
“So I’m not a terrorist, I’m just a funder of terrorism, is that it?”
“I don’t know what it is but I’m meeting him within the hour and I need to know before I do if this claim has any bases of fact.”
“You really need to ask me that?”
“Eric, if you were involved in any illegal activity I can help, but I need to know now!”
“William, I’m going to say this and then I’m going to hang up. I have not been involved in any illegal activity for the last 5 years.”

Oguni stared at a blank screen with a mixture of relief and concern. His brother seemed to be telling the truth. He knew Eric’s hatred for him might blind him, maybe even turn him violent, but not terrorism, not his bother.
7 – 10.07AM, 4th July 2903

Gavin Spencer was a short man with thick rimmed glasses and an even thicker beard. He was balding slightly and had a thin fringe that looked like it was on the verge of being a comb over. He was thin and bony. He wore a faded stripped shirt and worn trousers with stains and holes. He didn’t look like he was having much luck in his life. Oguni distrusted him on sight. There was something about him, maybe his long, thin face which Oguni thought resembled a rat, or perhaps the way he looked at you though those spectacles as if he was a vulture looking for some rotting meat.

Oguni had met people like this, people willing to do anything to get what they want, people who had no concern whose toes they stepped on. He reminded him of himself as a younger ago, although Oguni had standards, there had been occasions where he had forced his way in with blackmail and empty promises but they had been different. What really made Oguni furious was that this man had forced him into an audience. Him, the Prime Minister had to bow to this failure of a man.

Oguni craved control, it was what drove him. He wanted the power over every aspect of his life. Deep down he felt his family had failed him. Yes they had paid for his schooling but college, university, they had been entire paid for by him. His first flat, by him, his first car, him, his first suit and tie, him! He had made it here because he’d taken control rather than leaving it in the hands of his father. He had no doubt he’d be in Erics shoes if he hadn’t.

However, being the PM meant you met a lot of people with all different types of power hungry and greedy personalities, so rather than unleashing his fury on this frightened mouse, he did what he usually did which was to put on a warm smile and put out his hand to be shaken. The little man took it. Gavin’s hand was sweaty and clammy, he was obviously nervous, his eyes darting around the room like a lizard following a fly.

“Mr Spencer, nice to meet you.” Oguni said.
Gavin nodded awkwardly and then in a shaky voice said,
“Ye..yes, err, likewise Sir.”
“Please sit.”
They both did.

The room was silent for a moment, nothing but the humming of the ship itself. It was a small meeting room, only a table and three chairs. Oguni persona seemed to occupy the whole room like air fills a balloon. He towered over the skinny little man like a wolf over a lamb.

“Mr Prime Minster, I feel put out to meet you under such disturbing circumstances. I must stress to you, Sir, that I fear for my life and so you must forgive me for my rather radical and forward approach to this matter. I would not for the world have invited myself onto this ship for any other reason unless my life was in danger.” Gavin said rapidly.
“Mr Spencer, I’m a busy man, please get to the point.”
“Yes of course, I must apologise, I am quiet unnerved. I have nothing but respect for you Mr Prime Minister, you must believe me. I voted for you at the last election and will do at the next. However, I feel my findings are most unsettling. I put no blame upon yourself you understand, but I feel it is important to approach you directly with what I have.”
“Before we go any further Mr Spencer, let us deal with this directly. You have information, you are willing to share this information but for a price, is that correct?” He said flatly.
“Yes Sir, but you must believe me, I do not do this out of spite or malice. I do not request an interview to insult or humiliate you; instead I do it for myself. It cannot escape you that I am hardly the most successful individual within my field; in truth I have been thoroughly unsuccessful. Luck seems to have forgotten my existence. This interview, an exclusive interview with the man himself will raise me from my rags. I could sell it to any paper I want and perhaps even get a job on the team. I am good at my job, I just haven’t had the chance to prove it.”
“I see.” He replied softly.

Had he misjudged this man, is he really that desperate, that pathetic? He would tread carefully. Never underestimate your enemy they said, he had learnt the hard way on many occasions.

“So, let me get this straight Mr Spencer. You claim to have evidence that implicates my brother and you will only provide me with this evidence once I have completed an interview.”
Gavin nodded.
“Mr Spencer, do you really think that this would work?”
“Sir I....”
“You claim to have evidence and yet will not supply me with it until the interview is complete, where upon you could declare that there is no evidence at all.”
“I can ensure you that this is not the case.”
“I need more then assurances Mr Spencer, I need evidence.”
“Sir, I have the evidence.”
“Ok, let us leave that to one side for now. What about these terrorist? You have footage I believe, will you share that with us or is that part of the same deal?”
“Deal Sir? Yes Sir, the same deal.”
“Well in that case,” he said standing and holding out his hand to the confused Gavin, “I will take my leave. I feel this is nothing but a ruse and you wish for only to make a name for yourself without actually doing any hard work. I’ll have no part of it. Goodbye Mr Spencer.”
“Ok Ok,” he said submissively, “I will give you some but not all of what I have obtained. There are letters, files and records of your brother’s involvement. I have more but I will not give up until the interview is complete. I will also provide half of what I have on the terrorists.”
“Agreed. I’ll get my PA to contact you to retrieve the information.”
“Well, yes, em, there’s an issue. Well I don’t actually have the information on me.”
“I don’t understand, you said you had it?”
“I do, I do, just not on me, physically that is. I have it stored on a server. I didn’t want the terrorist to trace it back to me so I hide it through various methods.”
“I see,” Oguni said, growing impatient, “and how long will it take for you to acquire it?”
“I can’t say for sure, it’s complicated. As little as a few hours but it may take longer.”
“Mr Spencer,” he said as if speaking to an awkward child, “you are a reporter so I’m sure you’re aware that I have a live debate next week.”
“Yes Sir, I do Sir, I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m pleased. However, in order for me to arrive before said event, I need to depart tomorrow morning!”
“I’ll have before then, must certainly Sir.”
“Good. As for the protection you desire, there is nowhere safer than the HMSS Westminster. We will take you back to London where you can be placed into a witness protection program.”
“It would be an honour Sir, yes Sir an honour.”
“Very well. Contact me once you have the information but I warn you Mr Spencer, we will check if this content is genuine and if it turns out to be fabricated then you will have to deal with the consequences, am I clear?” he looked down at the fragile little man with those bottomless pits.
Gavin tried to stare back but it was too much.
He looked away.
“Yes Sir, but I can ensure you they are real.”
“I’m sure you can. Good day Mr Spencer.”
8 - 11.11AM, 4th July 2903

Gavin Spencer climbed up the ladder to the entrance of his small rusted craft. He passed through the air lock, which opened only after he hit the button three times, and entered the cramped and dirty ship.

Well that couldn’t have gone any worse he thought. He pulled his glasses off his face, cleaned them on his tattered shirt, and returned them to his face. He’d said such stupid things, what must the Prime Minster think of him. He’d been star struck. He’d kept talking nonsense and flattering the man whenever he could. He shook his head out of shame and embarrassment.

His ship was a mess, old, rusted and broken. There were air holes fixed by what must have been a drunken welder, there were loose wire exposed and tied together with thick industrial tape as well as countless other quick fixes. There were boxes, computer strips, left over coffee cups, dirty week old plates everywhere, it was mess.

He moved through the small corridor to the cockpit, cleared some things off a chair, by just putting them on the floor, sat and turned to face a screen. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small box full of computer strips. He found the right one, marked with blue tape, and put the rest away. He pushed the on button on his screen. Nothing happened. He played with the power cable until it finally kicked into life, and then waited a full 2 minutes until the machine was on.

He took the computer strip he’d selected and plugged it into the screen. He opened the folder, selected the correct file and ran the programme. Then sat back and waited.

It had gone so badly, so, so badly. He was meant to have gone out there all tough and demanding but the instant the Prime Minister had entered the room he’d just caved. The man just screamed power, he didn’t need to say anything, he could just enter a room and everyone would be under his command. He knew he shouldn’t have agreed to this, he wasn’t the right person. He’d told the Roper again and again that he wasn’t the right man for the job but he’d insisted. The Roper seemed to have the same power over people that the Prime Minster had and Gavin had caved in to him too.

It took two hours for the screen to activate again by which time Gavin was on edge. He could feel the sweat running down his back.

The screen light up, then it went black. The blackness was filled with a familiar shape.
It spoke.
“Ah Mr Spencer, it went well I trust.”
“Well, em, not as such.”
“You failed didn’t you? My word you are pathetic.”
“No, not failed Mr Roper, no. He believed me.”
“Well then why do you look so...nervous?”
“He wants footage and the files about his brother.”
“I told you, if he checks the files he’ll discover the information about his brother is fake!”
“I know that but he was about to leave, I had to give him something. He just wants half, and then he’ll speak with me.”
“Fine, but delay him as much as you can. You need to be on that ship of his and if he finds out its all fake, he’ll stick you on the first Kick ship he can and send you to the front line.”
There was a pause as the figure thought.
“Ok, if he wants evidence we’ll give him evidence. The footage has had the least amount of tampering, that might be enough to satisfy him for now.”
“Yes Mr Roper, he said he’s leaving tomorrow, in the morning I think. I’ll give him the files tonight; it’ll take at least a week to discover they’re fakes.”
“Do that, by the time he realises its fake, it’ll be too late. Now, I have other matters to attend to.”

And the screen returned to its normal state. Gavin sighed deeply and took off his glasses to rub his eyes with his palms. His stared at his hands, they were shaking. Would it be worth it, just to get a good job? He looked around his shabby ship. Yes, yes it was. He would lying to the Prime Minster but that didn’t matter, the Roper said he could sort that all out and he’d done so much already that Gavin didn’t doubt it for one second.