Genome (standard:science fiction, 64427 words)
Author: Phillip Jackson	Added: Jul 11 2004	Views/Reads: 3731/3699	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A body in a derelict house, experiments into genetics and human cloning, Government coverups and blue chip corporate deceit. Where's the connection? One man, Bernie Torme. Far from being the usual hero, Bernie Torme is thrown forcibly into a world totall

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

She put down the umbrella and leaned it against the wall of the house.
Naked now to the elements, the wind and rain whipped at her face and in 
a matter of seconds she was wet through. Her soaking hair clinging 
leach-like to her cheeks, her coat doing little to protect her cold 
body from the onslaught. Oblivious she reached up and with her fingers 
felt her way along the top of the doorframe. Just as she’d been told 
there was a key. She placed it in the hole. It turned with ease. She’d 
expected to hear the creak of rusted cogs but the lock shifted like a 
well-oiled mechanism. There was a click, audible above the sound of the 
storm, and the bolt unlocked. 

Placing the open palm of her hand on the centre of the door and adding
just a little pressure it swung inwards without resistance. She peered 
inside, her eyes squinting to adjust to the pitch-blackness inside. 
There was a scuttling noise a few feet away. Probably just rats, she 
hoped. 

No sooner had she put her first nervous step through the rotten and
brittle threshold then did she know that she’d made a mistake. There 
was no solid evidence to explain it, but whatever it was, put it down 
to sixth sense or women’s intuition, she had a very strong feeling that 
she should not be there. Why she had come in the first place was a 
question that at this very moment in time she was unable to answer. 
She’d believed that this at last was her chance to be free but now was 
very well aware that the web of deceit and lies that had preceded would 
not be coming to an end either now or at any time in the not so far off 
future. 

There was darkness all around. The sun had long since departed and the
thick stale black canvass that confronted her could only be described 
as unnatural. A strange musty aroma pervaded the atmosphere and the 
hammering noise of the rain had been replaced by a deathly silence that 
drowned out any other sound as she was suddenly filled with an almost 
claustrophobic sense of foreboding. Anyone in his or her right mind 
would have turned and ran straight out the way they’d come without so 
much as a second thought. But it was as if something was holding her, 
stopping her from escaping from its clutches. She turned to take a look 
back over her shoulder. A spindly branch from one of the trees was 
visible at the top of the door. It seemed almost as if it was following 
her in, or maybe preventing her escape. There was no going back now; 
she wasn’t given any options. 

Tentatively, she carried on putting one foot in front of the other. The
feeling that she was being pulled along by some force other than that 
of her own free will grew stronger, almost enveloping and suffocating 
her. Each step brought forth a creak from the wooden floor below. Each 
creak breaking the silence like a sledgehammer through a plate glass 
window. 

In front she could make out shapes that defined the dimensions of her
surroundings. She was in a small room, an empty windowless room. It was 
obvious to her that the room was void of any form of furniture or 
carpeting due to echoing acoustics that were being flung from wall to 
wall without obstruction. On the far side she could see a darker 
rectangle. An open doorway, probably. And that’s where she seemed to be 
hypnotically drawn. 

Her heart raced with the very thought of her impulsive actions, the
adrenalin surging through her body. Her hands were clenched tight but 
she didn’t realise, so overtaken was she with the uncontrollable desire 
to carry on putting one foot in front of the other. Though to what 
purpose was she here? She thought she’d known, the situation had 
changed now beyond all recognition and she was no longer in control of 
her own actions. 

Her breathing had become sharp as her muscles tightened and she could
feel a thin layer of perspiration across her brow. Breathing deeply she 
tried to calm herself. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear 
it, deafeningly loud, a rhythmic clunking that bellowed in her ears. 
The doorway was within a hands grasp. She tried to reach forward but 
found herself unable to move. 

Just a second ago she couldn’t stop herself from walking across the room
and now her legs were like lead weights stuck firmly to the floor. Her 
breathing became sharper and she felt like she was physically sweating 
from every part and pore of her body. 

Standing rigid with eyes transfixed on the dark shadows ahead the
heartbreaking sound of foot on wood continued behind her. 

She was not alone. 

1 

>From the 45th floor coffee shop of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government
Building the view was fantastic. It was a little after 9 p.m. and the 
sun had set a couple of hours ago. All around, the trademark neon 
lights of modern Japan lit up the sprawling city for as far as the eye 
could see. The ‘Twin Observatories’ that took over the top floor of the 
building stood as a model of twentieth century architectural 
engineering and the huge windows that ran all around offered a 
panoramic sight that no visitor to the capital would dare to miss. 

From where he casually stood, with one hand scratching his chin and the
other holding a ‘Welcome To Our Observatories’ information pamphlet, 
Bernie Torme, dressed in a t-shirt and kaki knee length trousers, 
looked out across the cityscape. It was a sight that few could find the 
words to describe. Bernie couldn’t decide whether it was magnificent or 
monstrous. 

He’d spent the last two weeks away from the capital city. Travelling
around the more relaxing parts of the Japanese countryside had been 
much more of an enlightening experience. But as always, good things 
can’t last forever and so now here he was in the heart of Tokyo for two 
days before he would be taking the plane from Narita Airport back home 
to London Heathrow. 

It was his third visit to Japan and on the whole, in a strange way, it
felt somewhat like a second home. This feeling being down to Momo, his 
travelling companion. Momo’s mother was Japanese and her father a 
diplomat for the British Foreign Office. The two were of similar age, 
Bernie 31 and Momo just turned 30. Bernie had known her for nearly ten 
years and on all three of his trips to the land of the rising sun she 
had been his guide. 

After living for spells in both England and Japan, Momo had decided to
settle for a life in London as opposed to Tokyo. Her decision was much 
to her parent’s displeasure and so just to keep them happy she visited 
whenever she could. It was on such occasions that Bernie had tagged 
along for a holiday. 

In character, Momo was a confident outspoken person, a trait that she’d
inherited from her father. Unfortunately this was a trait that didn’t 
go down too well in a country where hammering down the nail that sticks 
up is the national motto. So her decision to live in her father’s 
homeland was an easy choice for her to make. Momo loved city-life and 
although Bernie too lived in a hustling city environment she was much 
more comfortable with it than he. Not that she didn’t also enjoy the 
quiet peaceful times; on the contrary, she wouldn’t give up her ‘City 
Detox’ time for the world. But if decisions had to be made then she 
certainly knew where she called home and she also knew which city she 
called home. Bernie was quite different in demeanour to Momo. He had a 
very laid back personality and his life philosophy for a simple way of 
living reflected clearly in that his facial features showed no signs of 
aging and he was quite often mistaken for being in his mid twenties. 

Bernie and Momo had arrived three weeks earlier, stayed overnight in
Tokyo for Momo to do the obligatory family get together and then taken 
the three hour Shinkansen Bullet-Train journey south-westward along the 
coastline to Japan’s Imperial city, Kyoto. From there they’d spent the 
next twenty days either on foot, or hired pushbikes to explore the 
mountains and countryside. As only 30% of Japan is actually built upon, 
that leaves a lot of ground to cover. It was like an Eden, and 
heart-warming to know that even in the 21st Century there were still 
some rare corners of the Earth undefiled by Mankind. Bernie thought 
about his past two weeks, walking the narrow streets of Kyoto, hiking 
the mountains that surrounded the 1200 year-old city and taking a 
ridiculous number of photographs of huge and ancient Buddhist temples 
and Shinto shrines. Bernie was also extremely partial to Japanese food, 
sashimi and yakitori being his personal favourites. He always savoured 
the opportunity to taste the cuisine in its origin as opposed to dining 
in one of the many over-priced Japanese restaurants that seemed to line 
the streets of central London. 

His present surroundings were in complete contrast to Kyoto though. He
was 202 metres above the ground in what could possibly be one of the 
highest coffee shops in the world. A coffee shop that boasted over two 
and a half million visitors a year and a clear view of Mount Fuji 
approximately fifty days of the year. A viewing figure that was 
decreasing rapidly as the days went by due to the ever-increasing 
amount of pollution seeping innocuously in to the air. Whereas Kyoto 
seemed to be in an almost time-freeze Tokyo was a city that changed 
with every passing second. And of course new technology always brings 
with it new forms of waste. 

Turning away from the window Bernie saw Momo, her long straight black
hair swaying from side to side as she walked haphazardly between the 
busy tables. Like Bernie, she too looked younger than her years, this 
being down to the typically smooth Japanese skin from drinking endless 
cups of green tea. She also, because of the humid weather was attired 
in t-shirt and knee length trousers. In each hand she carried a tall 
cardboard-cupped coffee. Her agile frame weaved like a slalom skier 
through the children that were running excitedly around whilst their 
parents refuelled on caffeine, causing her to almost lose her drinks a 
couple of times. Bernie watched her. It was a strange relationship that 
the two had. They were friends, occasionally it was a relationship that 
became more intimate but for all this time and all the opportunities 
neither had tried to make it a solid commitment. On occasions Bernie 
wondered if he should and he lingered at these times on the idea of 
whether Momo’s feelings were the same. Not one for a complicated life 
he usually shelved the idea for another time. 

Finally she made it over to where Bernie stood. “Hai, dozo,” said Momo
as she passed Bernie his coffee. 

“Arigato gozaimasu,” he replied courteously. Bernie’s knowledge of the
Japanese language was minimal to say the least but he liked to make the 
effort. 

“So, how do you like the view?” Momo leaned with one hand against the
brass rail that ran all the way around the large circular room in front 
of the windows. 

Bernie turned and joined her with his hand on the rail, his other
raising the cup to his mouth to take a drink. “It’s definitely 
breathtaking, I’ll say that.” 

“Do you want to go out onto the balcony?” said Momo already taking a
step away from their current position, a little grin creeping on to her 
face knowing Bernie’s terrible head for heights. 

“O-saki ni dozo,” Bernie sarcastically bowed and held out his arm for
Momo to lead the way. 

The balcony, which meandered around the outside of the coffee shop, had
only recently been finished and in keeping with the ‘hi-tech’ image of 
the city the design was quite remarkable. The whole of the balcony was 
constructed and held together by six inch thick reinforced glass and 
lightweight metal alloys, which to Bernie’s mind didn’t offer much in 
the way of safety reassurance. Along with the smiling attendant in his 
pristine uniform who opened the door to them and bowed low as they 
passed, it still had that look of newness (and an odour of 
disinfectant). Bernie walked the short distance from the door to the 
edge of the balcony, took a look over the side and quickly stepped 
back. 

“Sorry, but the grounds a bit too far away for my liking.” He said
whilst pulling a face in alarm. 

They pulled up two chairs and sat down at one of the many tables
scattered about. Although it was still quite warm, the cool evening 
breeze was a very welcome guest after the humid Japanese summer day 
that they’d both endured and in response to the temperature both Bernie 
and Momo had been in similar attire to their present clothing since 
their arrival in the country. 

From their vantage point across the city Bernie could see office blocks
still lit up from head to toe by the fluorescent tube lighting inside. 
In some he could just make out tiny figures slumped at their desks 
still slaving over monitor screens. It was a long day indeed for the 
Tokyo salary man. 

The roads below were like an intermingled spectrum of lights, constantly
moving, rippling like a gently flowing multicoloured stream. Although, 
being down in the midst of it all, the noise of the car horns and being 
bustled along with the hoards of rushing people in a scramble to cross 
the road, one wouldn’t describe it that way at all. Bernie never could 
understand why it was that no matter what time of day the citizens of 
Tokyo, and many other parts of Japan come to that, were perpetually in 
a state of almost panicked rush. 

The ‘Bubble Burst’ period and the economical decline of Japan in the
nineteen nineties was now well in the past. The reforms and policies 
instigated by Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi in 2001 and pushed on 
after his re-election two years later had brought the country through 
the depression years with flying colours. The Japan of old that before 
and during recession had been the second largest economy in the world 
was now buoying with the U.S. to become the largest. And today, ten 
years on, in the year 2011, the Government and various establishments 
had expanded on the Capital City of Tokyo with their re-found wealth so 
that even more so than ever before it resembled a scene direct from a 
futuristic Philip K. Dick novel. 

There seemed to be no visible horizon; just a constant never ending
metropolis of skyscrapers and screaming neon. A world of commercial 
Geisha bars and drunken Karaoke. A city where media rules with giant 
T.V. screens attached to the fronts of buildings selling the latest 
fad. Laser projected celebrities and idols flashing across the walls of 
corporate establishments. Faces that to be seen for a second then 
forgotten just as quickly by a population of young wannabes ready to 
step in to their shoes and claim their place on the walls of Hypocrisy 
Plc. Work hard, play hard. That was the philosophy. No time to stop and 
think. No pause for thought. Do or die. 

A hard life Bernie thought to himself as he raised his coffee to his
mouth. Even though she liked the fast life, he knew why Momo had 
decided not to stay here. 

* 

A week later the cool breeze of London wasn’t such a welcome guest.
Bernie and Momo stood on the outside balcony of the Royal Festival Hall 
4th floor bar overlooking the southern side of the River Thames. The 
dark clouds threatened rain and an impending retreat back inside seemed 
inevitable. It was a far cry from the humidity and sunshine they’d 
relished only seven days prior and for a brief moment Bernie craved for 
a return to Tokyo. 

Their choice of clothes too was quite different from the t-shirt and
short trousers that they’d worn in Japan everyday. Momo’s work as a 
Personal Assistant in a Japanese/American finance company in the City 
meant that she had to wear a corporate style business suit. On top of 
her suit she wore a light coat. Bernie was the luckier of the two, 
employed as a Graphic Designer in a small West End company meant that 
casual was the norm and a pair of Jeans and a loose sweater never 
raised an eyebrow to his employers. 

It was Friday evening and the two had met in the Foyer Bar below at 6
o’clock. There had been a general hum of conversation; the bar had been 
bustling with office workers relaxing after the hard slog. The ceiling 
was high so the clouds of cigarette smoke that had congregated hovered 
way out of irritations reach. Some people had sat and enjoyed the jazz 
trio that had played Bill Evans covers in the centre of the large room. 
Others just simply talked with friends. Bernie and Momo had come to see 
the band. The performance had lasted for an hour or so, where after 
they’d taken the lift to their present location, bought drinks and 
ventured outside. 

There was a moderate crowd of well-dressed drinkers mulling on and
around the 4th floor balcony. Most were just passing the time until the 
main musical performance of the evening in the large concert hall that 
was the central part of the building. Bernie wasn’t sure of the nights 
billing but it was usually classical. 

The actual view from here was quite impressive. From where they stood,
across the river they could see the huge domed top St.Pauls Cathedral 
to the right, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament to their left, and 
The Savoy Hotel and Charing Cross Station straight in front, as well as 
a number of large office blocks now all in darkness and inactive for 
the weekend. The busy river was still working though. A number of 
boats, which had been refurbished as restaurants and bars, were full to 
capacity with diners and revellers whilst a couple of tourist 
sightseeing trips were still traversing from Westminster to Greenwich. 

“So, how does this compare to the view from The Observatories?” asked
Momo. 

“Close,” Bernie smiled and took a drink from his beer bottle, “but no
cigar.” 

Momo smiled back and drained her vodka tonic before putting the empty
glass down on the table next to her. 

“So, any plans for the weekend?” she said putting her hands in to her
pockets, pulling her coat close around her to keep out the evening 
chill. 

“Nothing much really, I thought I’d just relax for a change.” 

Momo laughed and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, “So the same
as usual.” 

Bernie smiled as he looked down in to his bottle. “Same again?” 

“Yeah, but back inside I think.” Momo held out the palms of her hands to
feel the spitting rain that had just begun. As she did so, almost on 
cue, a great clap of thunder cast aside any plans that they may have 
had for staying out on the balcony and they quickly made an exit to the 
bar. 

Back inside, a crowd was now starting to gather with tickets at the
ready by the large varnished doors of the main hall. After a minute the 
usher gave the signal and one by one they trundled in, leaving the bar 
virtually deserted. Bernie and Momo now easily found themselves a 
table, sat down with fresh drinks and spent the remainder of the 
evening in un-infringed idle chitchat. Last orders soon came around and 
after staggering from the bar, both slightly more intoxicated than when 
they’d arrived, they parted company. Momo took the train from Charing 
Cross heading south and Bernie caught a number 13 bus northbound from 
the Strand. When he arrived home some forty-five minutes or so later 
they were waiting for him. 

Bernie lived in a busy area of North West London. It was both
residential and commercial. The buildings in the area had been built in 
the early 1900’s and now housed businesses on the ground floors and 
apartment flats above. Entrance to the homes was via another smaller 
street that ran parallel but around the back of the buildings. Where he 
alighted from the red double-decker was just a short walk from his 
flat. There was an Underground station close by, which had a direct 
route taking only 25 minutes to the centre of London, but Bernie always 
preferred to take the bus. He liked to see where he was. 

His flat was situated above a grocery store. The store was now closed
along with all the other businesses on the road. Street lamps lit up 
the street quite brightly and there was also fluorescent security 
lights in some of the shop fronts. 

Bernie jumped down from the back of the bus on to the pavement. It was
raining quite hard now and he pulled up the collar of his jacket in a 
vain attempt to keep himself dry. Looking this way and that he scuttled 
across the main road and around to the narrower street at the back 
towards his home. Along the length of the narrow street were sets of 
steel steps leading up to small platform like verandas before the doors 
to the apartment flats on the first floor of the buildings. Bernie’s 
particular set of steps was about halfway along the street. Just the 
same as the front main street, here too were street lamps from end to 
end. 

Sitting in a new looking large car by the steps leading to Bernie’s flat
were three men. A street lamp shone down from directly above the car 
but in the darkness it was hard to distinguish the actual colour of the 
vehicle. It reflected the light from its shiny polished and rounded 
surface. Bernie, not really being much of a driver himself couldn’t 
have guessed the exact model even if he’d tried but he knew that it was 
not a car belonging to any of his neighbours. 

As the rain that had begun earlier with just a few spots was now coming
down like there was no tomorrow it was hard for Bernie to see clearly 
through the car window screen. One of the three occupants, the driver, 
was smoking a cigarette whilst the front seat passenger sat with his 
hands resting behind his head, his eyes closed. Bernie couldn’t 
actually see that there was another passenger in the back. 

As he passed the car and ascended the steps leading up to the doorway of
his home the driver of the car jumped to attention, stubbed out his 
cigarette in an ashtray on the dashboard and thumped his partner hard 
on the shoulder causing him to almost leap out of his seat and bang his 
head on the roof in almost slapstick fashion. Intently, with a great 
look of strained concentration on his face, the driver watched Bernie 
climb the stairs whilst the passenger slowly came to his senses. The 
man in the back didn’t move from his relaxed sitting position but 
calmly spoke. 

“Just follow the plan.” his voice was drone-like, unemotional. 

The driver turned and nodded. His look was as lacking in _expression as
the back seat passenger who had spoken to him. 

Bernie put the key into the lock of his front door and turned it. He
looked back. He could see them, whoever they were, getting out of the 
car. He was curious but not scared. He opened the door, stepped inside 
and closed it shut behind him. After a second though he then slipped on 
the security door chain as a double precaution. He had no intention of 
waiting to find out who they were. It was late; he was a little drunk, 
sodden through with just walking from the bus stop to his door and in 
no mood for any funny business. But, thought Bernie, why was he 
presuming that the men were waiting for him? Why should he 
automatically think that the reason for them getting out of the car as 
soon as Bernie had arrived home had any connection whatsoever? Calming 
himself he realised that the drink must have heightened his senses and 
he was merely imagining scenarios that didn’t exist. Bernie had no need 
to be worried about late night visitors. He relaxed and moved away from 
the door and into his home. 

A few minutes later the doorbell rang. Bernie, now in his kitchen
drinking a glass of water didn’t move to answer it. Was it the two men 
that he’d seen getting out of the car after-all? Strange, he thought, 
burglars and muggers don’t normally press the doorbell to introduce 
their arrival; and they don’t usually arrive in very expensive looking 
new cars. It rang again, this time a little more impatiently. If he was 
sober Bernie would now have been tense, anxious and probably slightly 
more apprehensive with regards to finding out whom they were than he 
was right now. He put the glass of water in the sink and looked around 
for something solid. As he wasn’t really one for cooking his kitchen 
was pretty sparse of utensils and weaponry. By the fifth ring he’d 
found a solid crystal flower vase from the cupboard, walked from the 
kitchen in to the hallway and stopped a good five feet from the door. 

In the centre top half of the door of Bernie’s flat was a small square
window. Through the window he could see the two men. Bernie squinted to 
take a look, due to the alcohol he’d consumed his vision wasn’t 
perfect. Two heads, one peering over the shoulder of the other looked 
back at him through the glass. Bernie didn’t move to open the door. His 
brain wasn’t working as quickly as it should have been. The first one, 
the driver, pressed an open wallet with an I.D. card inside up against 
the window and Bernie leaned forward to inspect it. Police. It 
certainly looked authentic enough. The photo was obviously some years 
out of date, but for all intents and purposes it looked genuine or at 
least a very good copy. 

Bernie couldn’t think for the life of him what they were doing here.
Even though he wasn’t thinking one hundred percent straight he knew 
damn sure that he hadn’t done anything against the law recently, or 
ever come to that. In fact Bernie could have described himself as 
probably the most law-abiding citizen in his neighbourhood. He 
certainly wasn’t an angel but he knew where to draw the line. Suddenly 
a thought raced through his mind. Maybe it was Jane; maybe that’s why 
they were here? 

Stepping forward he opened the door on its chain. That was as far as he
was prepared to go at this point just in case his guesses were wrong. 

“Mr. Bernie Terme?” asked the first one putting a foot in the space
between the door and the frame. He wore a long blue Macintosh over a 
dark navy suit and his hair was immaculately Bryl creamed back. He 
squinted his right eye slightly and Bernie noticed a small scare above 
the eyebrow. He looked about fifty but he probably wasn’t. In an odd 
fashion he reminded Bernie of a smarter dressed Columbo. 

“It’s Torme,” answered Bernie finally. 

“Right.” Columbo paused, a drop of rain landed on his forehead and slid
down to the end of his nose. “Torme.” He paused again and wiped the 
rain from his nose, “May we come in?” 

Bernie stared again at Columbos' I.D. wallet and then looked up at the
two of them. 

“Mr Torme?” Columbo leaned forward in to the gap left by the chained
door. “We are getting very wet standing out here on your doorstep.” His 
voice was stern. 

Bernie snapped out of his trance. “Oh yes, sorry, of course”, He tried
to sound serious. He pulled the door forgetting that it was still on 
its safety chain, “Sorry...the chain”. 

He closed the door, took off the chain and reopened it fully; standing
aside he let the two officers in. 

“You won’t be needing the vase Mr. Torme,” said Columbos' partner as the
two men brushed past Bernie. 

“No.. I won’t...just a precaution, never know who’s about at this time
of night though, please go through to the living room,” pointing, as he 
spoke, down the hallway to the small room at the end. 

The hallway leading to the living room was quite long with five doorways
to the left hand-side. The first doorway opened to the kitchen, the 
second to the bathroom and the remaining three were tall cupboards. A 
light was on in the kitchen but the rest of the flat was in darkness. 
Bernie watched the two officers march through his home. The alcohol had 
now suddenly worn off completely due to the current scenario and Bernie 
felt wide-awake. 

He put the vase back down in the kitchen and followed the two police
officers in to his living room. Columbo got there first and turned on 
the light switch. He looked around for a second, giving the room a once 
over, and then promptly sat himself down in a comfortably cushioned 
chair in the corner of the room by a small curtained window. The other 
officer, obviously junior to Columbo, didn’t sit. He just stood by the 
door with both hands in the pockets of his dark blue overcoat, the 
exact same overcoat as Columbo wore. Was this some kind of new 
Government issue coat thought Bernie, or did Junior just aspire to one 
day be the next Columbo? He reminded Bernie in a strange sort of 
fashion to something but what it was he couldn’t quite put his finger 
on. There was just something odd about him, in his appearance. Beaked 
nosed and thin features, almost gaunt one could say. His hair was thick 
and swept back and the iris’s of his eyes were more like tiny black 
beads than real iris’s, darting around manically as if recording every 
minute detail of the room for replay later on. 

Bernie sat down on his sofa, which was next to the chair in which
Columbo sat. The room wasn’t big. The sofa, the matching chair, a small 
coffee table. A television set stood by the end of the sofa next to the 
room door on top of a cheap Formica cabinet. The decor was minimal. A 
wall clock hung above the sofa. On the wall opposite, a copy of a print 
by Salvador Dali hung by the door where Columbo Junior stood. A medium 
sized, threadbare in places, rug covered most of the wooden floorboards 
of the room, probably in an attempt to cover the fact that the wood was 
in dire need of polishing. The wallpaper too looked like it could do 
with a touch up. In basic terms it was a very simple room free from 
unnecessary clutter and modern gadgets. 

“So, how can I...”, Bernie started before being interrupted by Columbo. 

“I’m Detective Hapgood and this is Detective Cholly,” Hapgood pointed to
Cholly who nodded as if to confirm that what Hapgood had just said was 
correct. Hapgood then leaned forward in his chair bringing himself 
closer to Bernie who sat just a couple of feet away. 

With a quite sympathetic tone he said, “I’m afraid I have some very bad
news Mr. Torme.” 

2 

Detective Cholly was quick to whip out a small note pad and pen from his
pocket as soon as he saw the change of _expression on Bernie’s face. 
Bernie couldn’t see what it was that the enthusiastic Detective was 
scribbling down; and to be quite honest it was the last thing on his 
mind right now. 

“Mr. Torme,” said Hapgood, carefully putting the photograph that he’d
just shown Bernie back in to the inside pocket of his suit jacket, 
“could you tell me exactly the last time you saw your sister.” 

Bernie’s elder sister, Jane Griswell, had been on the missing persons
list for the past six months. His initial assumption, when Hapgood and 
Cholly had appeared on his doorstep just a few minutes prior, that this 
visit involved news of his sibling was correct. Unfortunately the news 
hadn’t been what he’d hoped for. First of all Hapggod had produced a 
passport photograph of Jane for Bernie to confirm who she was followed 
by a couple of preliminary questions to confirm Bernie’s identity. The 
Detective had then delivered the shocking news that the body of his 
sister had been discovered that very morning and she was in fact now 
dead. 

Bernie stared at the living room floor, he was in shock ‘I’m really
going to have to sort this place out’ he thought to himself, ‘the rug 
looks terrible and the wood underneath looks even worse.’ 

“Mr. Torme?” 

Cholly took more notes. 

“Mr. Torme?” Hapgood said again and waited for an answer. “Mr. Torme?”
After the third time the Detective was becoming impatient and leaned 
closer to Bernie who was still staring at the floor. 

Hapgood put his hand on Bernie’s shoulder applying enough pressure to be
somewhere between reassuring and forceful. 

Bernie looked up at Hapgood, “I’m sorry... I err..” 

Hapgood took his hand away from Bernie’s shoulder and sat back in the
chair. This was the part he always hated. It wasn’t being the bearer of 
bad tidings that he disliked. No, he didn’t mind that at all. It was 
the having to go through the motions of it all, knowing that it would 
take a lot longer to get the answers he required in situations such as 
this. That was what he had such an abhorrence for above all. 

“Mr. Torme,” Hapgood applied a sympathetic tone. It was a tone of voice
that he’d mastered over the years and was quite proud of. “I’m very 
sorry to have to be the one to break this terrible news to you.” he 
paused and drew in a deep breath. There had been scenes in the past 
when being told of the death of a loved one that a normally rational 
individual had suddenly turned in to a crazed madman, or even worse a 
blubbering wreck. 

Bernie slumped back in to the sofa. His face a sheet, his eyes glazed
and his mind a total void of absolutely anything and everything. The 
fact that his sister had been missing for so long had made him realise 
recently the likelihood of this particularly bad news rearing its ugly 
head at some stage and he’d tried to prepare himself for the 
eventuality. Now though that the awful news had arrived he was totally 
unable to think how to react. Should he cry? Should he be angry? He 
honestly didn’t know what to do. Before he could ponder further on an 
appropriate reaction his train of thought was broken by the inquiring 
Detective sat by his side. 

“Mr. Torme, we really need to talk.” Hapgood pressed an assuring hand in
to Bernie’s shoulder. “Cholly,” he wagged a finger at his junior, “have 
a look around in the kitchen and see if you can find some brandy or 
something.” 

Cholly put his pen and paper away and left the room. 

He returned a couple of minutes later and handed Hapgood a small glass
of brandy. 

“Not for me Cholly!” With a sharp glare at his colleague Hapgood
snatched the glass and held it out in front of Bernie. 

Bernie looked at the glass and then blankly at Hapgood. 

“It’ll help son, go on,” Hapgood said in a fatherly sort of fashion and
smiled. 

Bernie mumbled what sounded like a thank you and gulped back the
contents of the small glass. His face grimaced and he spluttered a 
cough. He wasn’t a big brandy fan and for a second wondered where 
Cholly had managed to find a bottle of brandy in his flat. He couldn’t 
actually remember the last time he’d bought some. Maybe they’d brought 
it with them? 

“Feeling better Mr. Torme?” asked Cholly, it was the first time he’d
spoken since passing Bernie in the hallway. His voice did little to 
compliment his features. 

Bernie looked up and nodded. He leaned forward and placed the empty
glass on the coffee table in front of him. 

Bernie turned to Hapgood. “Could you excuse me for just one second?” He
could see a slight frown appearing on the Detective’s face. “Just a 
second, then I’ll help as best I can.” 

Hapgood simply nodded. There was little else he could do. 

Bernie got to his feet, walked down the hallway to the bathroom and
closed the door behind him. Leaning with his back against the closed 
door he took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. He stepped over to 
the sink, turned on the water tap and splashed icy cold water over his 
face before slumping heavily against the sink with both hands on the 
rim. Putting his head down under the running water he drenched his 
scalp, straightened up and then ran both hands through his wet hair. 
Laggardly he turned off the tap and stepped back to take a look at 
himself in an oval shaped shaving mirror that hung on the wall above 
the sink. His face was a little rosy, probably from the brandy he’d 
just consumed. His eyes were somewhat bloodshot from the smoky bar 
earlier and he looked tired. Bernie thought he looked a good five years 
older, or maybe more, than his thirty one right now as opposed to his 
usually youthful appearance. It was Friday night, he’d had a long 
arduous week back at work after his holiday and he definitely did not 
need, or more to the point did not want, this. Was he dreaming it all 
he thought to himself? It couldn’t be real. After all this time Jane 
finally turns up, but instead of the happy reunion he’d been hoping for 
over the past six months it now turned out that he’d be going to a 
funeral instead. 

He closed his eyes tight and rubbed his hands across his face. It was
real and he had to face facts that his sister was gone. Now he knew he 
had to go back to the living room and speak to the two Police officers 
so that they would then leave him to grieve in peace. 

As he opened the bathroom door and began the long walk back to his
living room ready to face Hapgood and Cholly the telephone, which sat 
on a small table in the hallway close to the flat entrance, suddenly 
began to ring. The unexpectedness of the call made Bernie jump. From 
the doorway of the living room Cholly looked at Bernie. Bernie stopped 
and looked at Cholly. Hapgood leaned forward in his chair and looked 
down the hallway to Bernie and then to the phone. 

“Better get that Mr. Torme, it might be important at this hour,” said
Hapgood. 

Bernie went to the small telephone table in the hallway and picked up
the receiver. 

“Hello?” His voice was shaky. 

“Bernie,” it was Momo’s voice coming down the line sounding excited. 

“Momo, are you okay?” Bernie’s voice lacked any enthusiasm. 

“You’ll never guess who’s here?” 

“Who?” 

“Jane.” 

Bernie didn’t answer. His mind was sent in to an immediate state of
confusion. What was Momo saying? How could Jane be with her when she’s 
dead? He turned around to look at Hapgood and Cholly. They hadn’t moved 
from their positions in the living room. 

“Bernie?” 

“I’m still here.” 

“She wants you to come over. Can you get a cab?” 

“Momo,” Bernie was confused, was this some kind of sick joke. He replied
to Momo’s question in a whisper, “Can you say that again?” 

“It’s Jane, she’s here at my flat and she’s fine.” Momo’s voice in
contrast to Bernie was exuberant with delight. 

“I...this is...err” Bernie was dumbfounded. 

“Bernie, it’s okay you must be shocked.” 

Momo’s statement was certainly an understatement. 

“I have a bit of a situation here right now.” Although it wasn’t exactly
what he wanted to say it’s all he could do to get a sentence of some 
sort together the way his mind was swirling. 

“What kind of situation?” Momo asked rather perturbed. 

“The police are here.” He paused not knowing how to explain that he’d
just been told that the person apparently with Momo was in fact, 
according to one source, supposed to be dead. 

“What's happened, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine. Momo?” He lowered his voice even more, he didn’t want Hapgood
and Cholly to haer any of the conversation as he stumbled over the 
words in his mind to ask Momo what the hell was going on. “Are you sure 
it’s her?” 

“Of course I’m sure, why shouldn’t it be? Bernie, what are you talking
about?” 

Bernie inhaled deeply before answering although he wasn’t sure what he
was actually saying. “To be honest, I don’t know. All I’m saying is 
that something’s not right.” 

“You’re not making any sense at all Bernie, which I can understand in
the circumstances. I’ll tell you what, we’ll call a cab and come over 
to you, it’s gonna take an hour or so. Will the police still be there? 
You can explain when we arrive.” Momo was becoming agitated and wanted 
to get to the bottom of Bernie’s mystery as soon as she could. 

“I don’t know if that's a good idea.” Bernie heard the sound of one of
the Detectives mobile phones ringing briefly from the living room, “and 
I don’t know how long it’ll take here.” He was still in turmoil as to 
of what to say. 

“Don’t be silly Bernie, we’re coming over, we’ll see yo-“. 

Bernie interrupted. “But be careful, and when you get here if you see a
car parked out the back of the flat don’t come in.” 

“What’s going on Bernie?” 

“Just do as I say.” Bernie tried to push the importance but it was
difficult whilst whispering and it was impossible for him to grasp what 
actually was going on and explain in any form of simple English. 

“I promise”. Momo hung up. 

Bernie put down the receiver and turned to see Hapgood and Cholly
watching him curiously. 

“Anything we should know about?” asked Hapgood. 

Bernie walked through and retook his place on the sofa. “Just my friend
who I was with earlier tonight. I always ask her to call me so I know 
she’s gotten home safely.” 

“A real gentleman.” said Cholly, his second attempt at joining in to the
proceedings. 

Hapgood leaned in close to Bernie with his hands together as if he was
about to kneel down and pray. “Now, Mr. Torme if you could tell me 
about the last time you saw or had any contact with your sister. It is 
important.” Hapgood added emphasis to his last three words. 

Bernie wasn’t sure how to answer the question after what Momo had just
told him. Was Jane really dead? If she wasn’t then who were these two 
men in his flat? If she was dead then who was with Momo claiming to be 
Jane? His mind was a swirling mess. 

Bernie looked up at both Hapgood and Cholly. Cholly was busy scribbling
in his note pad again. 

“The last time I spoke to Jane was just over six months ago. It was
probably about two weeks before she was reported as missing.” 

“And did she say anything that seemed unusual. Was she worried about
anything in her life at that time that you can recall.” 

“Detective,” Bernie looked straight at Hapgood, he genuinely didn’t know
what to think or say and it showed in both his voice and facial 
_expression. “Six months is a long time and to be honest I can hardly 
remember a single word of the conversation that we had.” 

There was a pause in the proceedings whilst Hapgood again reclined in
his seat and not for the first time rubbed his chin as he thought about 
how to play the situation. 

“May I ask where my sister was found and the cause of death?” Bernie
said, not waiting for Hapgood to be the next speaker. 

Sitting up Hapgood pulled a photograph from the inside pocket of his
jacket. It was a black and white 6’x4’ of an old desolate house in the 
middle of overgrown and hilly moorland. 

“Her car was found parked outside by a local farmer. Jane was actually
found inside the house. Apparently the place has been empty for near on 
forty years. Used to be a farm here but for whatever reasons it’s been 
derelict all this time.” 

He then produced another photograph. It was Jane, as she’d been found.
Her body was sprawled out and her face contorted as if in great pain. 

Bernie was quite surprised at Hapgood producing this second and quite
disturbing picture. He wondered if it was normal Police protocol to try 
and upset the family of the deceased as much as possible. It seemed as 
if the detective wanted to really drum home the fact loud and clear 
that Bernie’s sister was well and truly dead. The photograph was 
shocking and Bernie stared at the image intensely. He hadn’t seen Jane 
for 6 months and it caused him great distress to see her in such a way. 
But then, he thought, how could this be so if Momo was telling the 
truth. 

Handing the two photos back to Hapgood Bernie asked, “Where is the
house?” 

“It’s quite a way from London. It’s actually in Yorkshire, about twenty
miles from Leeds. Do you know of any reason why your sister would have 
been in that area? Does she have any connections that you’re aware of 
in the region” 

“I haven’t seen my sister for over six months Detective, I wouldn’t have
a clue as to why or where she’s been”. 

“Of course, I understand. This must be a great shock to you. Would you
like another glass of Brandy?” 

“No, I’m fine thank you.” Bernie had a thought that would probably
clarify the contradictions between what he was being told by the 
Detective and also by Momo. “Do you need me to officially identify the 
body?” He stared at Hapgood trying to read his _expression. 

“I’m really not sure at the moment what’s being done about that.”
Hapgood rubbed his chin incessantly. “I think the best thing to do is 
for us to go back to the station first of all and update with our 
colleagues. We need to find out if any other family members have been 
contacted. I do apologise Mr. Torme and I’m sure that you understand 
that there are procedures that have to be followed under such 
regrettable circumstances as these.” 

“That's fine, but our parents both passed away some time ago and the
rest of the family is pretty much scattered around the country. Jane 
was married, hence the name being Griswell and not Torme, but her 
husband, David, was killed in a car accident four years ago.” 

Hapgood got up from his chair to leave, still rubbing his chin. “We’ll
be back in the morning Mr. Torme.” 

Although he was pleased that they were leaving Bernie was quite
surprised at how abruptly Hapgood decided it was time to depart. But 
having little experience in being informed of a death in the family by 
the authorities he couldn’t really say what the norm was. 

Bernie saw Detective Hapgood and Detective Cholly to the door. He was
still drawing a blank as to what was going on and also as to whether 
Detectives Hapgood and Cholly, taking in to account his short phone 
call from Momo, were actually whom they claimed to be. 

Outside, the rain was coming down as hard as ever. Cholly stepped out
first, pulling the collar of his blue coat up around his neck. Hapgood 
stopped before leaving and turned to face Bernie. 

“Once again please accept my condolences.” He too then pulled up the
collar of his coat and turned to go. 

Cholly just nodded his head in Bernie’s general direction and then
followed Hapgood down the stairs to the car. 

Closing the door after them Bernie wondered what he should do now. There
were questions that needed answers. The problem was that he wasn’t sure 
how to get those answers and also whether he had the energy to pursue 
them at all. He felt exhausted. He was still in shock and didn’t know 
what to think about the two pieces of news that he’d received in such a 
short space of time. Bernie wondered if his sister was dead then who 
was the girl with Momo? Hapgood’s photographs were definitely good if 
they were fakes. Was it really his sister? Until Momo arrived there was 
very little he could do. He thought about calling Momo on her mobile to 
check that she was okay. No, he couldn’t do that; he remembered her 
saying earlier in the evening that she’d left it in her office by 
mistake. Damn. 

Bernie remembered then that Hapgood hadn’t actually said what the cause
of death had been. Was this significant he thought? Maybe it was, maybe 
it wasn’t. The photograph of the body didn’t really give too much away 
in that area. There hadn’t seemed to be any physical injuries. It 
looked almost as if she’d died from fright. It just didn’t make sense 
no matter how many ways he looked at it. He tried to think of anything 
else that may give any clues to the puzzle but soon realised that he 
was at a total loss. 

There was nothing else to do but to find that brandy and sit and wait
for Momo and her companion to arrive. 

Hapgood and Cholly simultaneously opened their respective car doors and
climbed in to the front seats of the vehicle. Hapgood once he was 
settled turned to the man in the back seat. 

“Well we delivered the message but what was that all about with the
cryptic message?” Hapgood was referring to the mobile telephone call 
that he’d received from his back seat passenger whilst he was sat in 
Bernie’s living room. Luckily the call had arrived at the same time as 
Bernie had been on the phone to Momo, a stroke of miraculous luck. 

“It seems that there is a problem,” said the man, his voice as dour as
it had been earlier, “Griswell has been spotted.” 

Hapgood jumped; “I thought she was dead?” his voiced was full of
surprise. 

“Well she’s not, so we now revert to the backup plan.” The man leaned
close to Hapgood, his features more visible from the light emanating 
from the streetlamp, he wore a black suit his face was sharp and he 
held a cruel _expression, “I suggest you get on to whoever and set the 
wheels in motion.” 

3 

For the second time this strange night the doorbell of Bernie’s flat
announced the arrival of visitors. Bernie peered down the hallway to 
see Momo’s lustrous smile filling the small rectangle of glass in the 
door. Thank goodness, he thought. He’d expected her to arrive about 
twenty minutes ago and what with everything else that had already 
happened he’d started to worry. Quickly trotting down the hall to let 
her in he could see that she was holding up a bottle of wine, waving it 
frantically. Typical, in the face of a crisis Momo always seemed to 
have a somewhat different slant on the proceedings to everyone else. 

Bernie opened the door and Momo pushed past him heading to the kitchen,
presumably in search of a corkscrew. Jane too stepped inside but not as 
effervescently as Momo. She closed the door behind herself and turned 
to face her brother. For a good minute or so the two of them stood 
there just looking at each other. Both wore a face that showed no 
_expression. Neither wanting to give away their feelings, unsure how 
the other would react. 

Is this really my sister standing here was the only thought running
through Bernie’s mind? It certainly looked like her, there was no 
doubting that. She still had that familiar odd look of being timid and 
tough at the same time, pug nose and elegant cheekbones. Her hair, as 
Bernie remembered, always seemed perfect but tonight it was untidy, 
hanging limply upon her shoulders. Her whole appearance was that of 
someone a little disorientated. She seemed to carry an aura of 
childlike vulnerableness that made her look quite weak. 

If this was truly his sister standing in the hallway of his flat then
why had she gone to Momo first? Why hadn’t she come to him, was she 
scared to face him alone? Obviously it was a difficult situation. She’d 
disappeared without trace just over six months ago and now here she was 
on his doorstep with her head bowed to the floor like a naughty little 
girl waiting to be scolded. 

“Well, aren’t you going to welcome your sister Bernie?” Momo broke the
ice and grabbed Jane’s hand pulling her towards the living room. 

Once in the living room the three of them sat down, Momo and Bernie on
the sofa and Jane in the chair by the window. Momo had handed them each 
a glass and then poured out the red Chilean wine that she’d brought 
along for the celebration. It was a strange atmosphere in the room. 
Uncomfortable. Stifled. 

Momo had tried to start conversation between the two siblings without
much success. Neither Bernie nor Jane had spoken a word to each other 
and it didn’t seem as either side was ready to begin the proceedings. 

“Well, this is a fine way to welcome someone you haven’t seen in six
months.” Momo glared at Bernie, quite angry now at his behaviour. “How 
about starting by telling us why the police we’re here earlier?” 

“How about Jane tells us where the hell she’s been for the past six
months?” Bernie returned the glare. 

“We can come to that later. Obviously some things take a little longer
to talk about than others.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” 

“Look, just lighten up will you. I don’t know what's eating you but
let’s just be happy that she's here.” Momo put a comforting hand on 
Jane’s arm and smiled. Jane returned the smile. Momo then turned her 
attention back to Bernie, the smile replaced by a look of semi 
annoyance, but not anger. 

Bernie emptied his glass of wine and picked up the bottle for a refill. 

“So?” asked Momo. 

“What?” 

“Police? Are you going to tell us why they were here?” 

Bernie filled his glass and took a drink. “If you must know they were
here asking questions about Jane?” 

Jane glanced across the room at Bernie with a look of concern on her
face. Bernie could see that it looked like she knew more than he did 
about the appearance of Hapgood and Cholly. 

“What kind of questions?” said Momo. “You know Bernie, when someone goes
missing for six months then it’s obvious that the Police are going to 
turn up every so offen. It’s their job.” 

“Strange how they happen to turn up on the very same night as Jane steps
out of the shadows. Don’t you think that that’s a little bit odd? A 
little bit unusual.” His tone was sarcastic to say the least as he 
started to regain some of his natural vigour that the earlier news of 
Jane’s demise had knocked out of him. 

Jane still remained quiet and demure in the corner, sipping her wine.
Bernie stood up and began pacing the floor. 

“Bernie.” Momo was becoming impatient with him again and it clearly
showed in her voice. “Can you please just tell me what it is that’s 
bothering you so much? Is it that you’re just taken aback and shocked 
at seeing that Jane is safe and well after all this time. I can 
understand exactly what's going through your mind right now Bernie. 
Christ, I was lost for words myself when I saw her standing outside my 
flat when I got home, but...come on.” 

“It’s okay Momo.” Jane broke her silence, her voice was hoarse, tired.
She got from her seat and took a hold of Bernies arm to stop him 
pacing. “Bernie?” 

“Of course I’m pleased to see you.” Bernie took a deep breath and ran a
hand through his hair, pulling away from his sister at the same time. 
He sighed heavily, enough was enough. It was time to get down to the 
nitty-gritty. He looked her straight in the eyes. “Can you please 
explain to me why the Police came around here tonight to tell me that 
you’re dead, and that your body was found somewhere up in Yorkshire 
this morning? Answer that and I’ll be happy.” 

“What?” Momo put her glass down on the table before she dropped it. 

“That's right. I’m sat here being interrogated by ‘Laurel and Hardy’
regards my sisters murder and then you telephone to tell me that's 
she’s just turned up out of the blue as if by magic. Wouldn’t that seem 
a tad bit strange to you? Maybe you can see why I’m acting this way. 

“So could the real Jane Griswell please step forward and explain what
the hell is going on?” Bernie sat himself back down and drank some more 
wine. 

Momo’s facial _expression as well as body posture changed dramatically
to show quite openly that she was having some trouble taking this all 
in. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape as she looked at Bernie and 
then to Jane. 

“Is this some kind of joke Bernie?” asked Momo eventually. 

Bernie leaned forward in his chair and held out his hand to Jane. “I
think you can answer this question big sis’.” 

Jane sat back down in her chair. Momo wasn’t sure what to do at all and
Bernie just simply sat back and waited. 

“Look Jane,” said Momo softly, “if there's something you know about all
this, then I really think you should tell us.” 

“It’s a bit too complicated to explain everything so that you’d
understand.” 

“Try us,” said Bernie. “Don’t you realise how worried we've been. Not
only us, a lot of people have been worried about you. Not to mention 
how confused I am about everything.” 

“Okay... I’m sorry; I really am, even if it doesn’t seem so right now.
Believe me.” Her tone was full of pleading emotion. 

Bernie refilled his wine glass again. “Jane,” he had calmed somewhat, “I
just want to know where you've been, why you've been there and most of 
all why do the Police think that you're dead?” He paused to take a 
drink. “Once we've established that...well, then we can get back to 
some sort of normality and be happy that you’re here.” 

Jane put her head back, inhaled deeply and rubbed her face with cupped
hands. “I don’t think those two men who came by tonight were Police. 
Well, not your normal everyday Police. Or if they were then they are 
definitely working closer than I’d anticipated with another party.” 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” interrupted Bernie. 

Momo’s angry look returned as she turned to face Bernie. “Don’t butt in.
Let her talk at her own pace.” 

Bernie held up his arms in resignation to Momo’s comment. 

She turned to Jane. “When you’re ready Jane, we’re listening.” 

Jane sat up and tried to make herself comfortable in the small sofa
chair. “You could say that part of me is dead. In a way that would be a 
true statement.” She paused to see their reaction but none came. “When 
I disappeared six months ago it was of my own free will and I sincerely 
apologise for the anguish that I’ve put you both through. I never 
intended that at all, but at the time I had no other choice. If I had 
confided in either of you of what I was planning to do then I would 
have been putting you both in danger.” She reached out for the bottle 
of wine, it was nearly empty but she managed to fill her glass just 
over halfway. “It’s all to do with my work, I became too involved I 
suppose.” 

Bernie was about to say something but Momo reached out with her hand and
stopped him before he could start. She looked at Jane to carry on. Jane 
took a sip of the red wine and then continued. 

“When I say I became too involved, what I should be saying is that I
actually became my work, in a manner of speaking.” She paused again as 
if struggling to find the words. “As you know, for the past ten years 
since I graduated, up until six months ago, I’d been working for Parkby 
Life Sciences. I was working on certain projects in the Department of 
Micro Biology and Human Genetics. What I obviously couldn’t divulge to 
you, or anyone outside of the company come to that, was what the work 
actually entailed or certain aspects of the projects assigned to me.” 
Jane stopped for a second to think about how to explain the current 
situation to them. 

“Can you tell us now what you were doing?” asked Bernie. 

Jane sighed, “ I suppose so, it doesn’t matter who I tell now that I’ve
made the break. I’ll try to keep it simple. 

“When I joined the company as a new graduate, work on cloning human
cells and other projects regards genetically modified cells was already 
well in to the advanced stages. I’m not talking about simple things 
such as altering the colour of a monkey’s skin and all the other 
rubbish that you’d read about in the tabloids. This was real. It was 
far further down the road than basic embryo work.” Jane saw the bemused 
looks on their faces. “I know what you're thinking, that human cloning 
was banned worldwide. 

“Just because the Governments say we shouldn’t do it, it doesn’t mean
that we can’t do it. In fact, funds to sponsor just about all the 
projects came from the Government. Unofficially they endorsed 
everything. They received up to the minute reports; they even paid 
regular visits to the laboratory to keep tabs on how we were doing. We 
had, and probably still do have, scientists from around the world 
working together on this. 

“To some, maybe to you both, this all seems unethical. But my only
incentive had always been how to use my scientific knowledge to achieve 
things that would ultimately help mankind. Possibly make our lives a 
little easier.” 

“What did you expect, a ‘Noble Prize’ or something?” Momo was unable to
stop Bernie this time. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. I was just so taken with the work one hundred
percent. I thought it was right. I thought it was good and ethical.” 

“So what made you change your mind after so long?” 

“A few reasons, too many reasons. I suppose first of all I just woke up
one morning and decided that I didn’t want to play God anymore. Some of 
the things that I was doing suddenly became unethical in my eyes. I 
honestly can’t say why I’d been so blind for so long and then suddenly 
woken up to the reality. I suppose we all do things in our lives that 
at the time seem right and then further down the road we look back at 
them with regret. That’s exactly how I feel. 

“But that’s too easy a way out and there’s a lot more to it than that.
By the time I’d made my decision to leave it was too late though. We’d 
discovered a hormone that would speed up the process of what we were 
trying to accomplish in the cloning process faster than we could have 
ever imagined. ” 

Jane sat with her head down. Bernie was now sitting upright listening
intently to his sister’s story, a curious look on his face. 

“So, now going back a little. That bit about part of you is dead and you
actually became your work. Can you expand on that for us please?” Asked 
Bernie, attentive. 

Jane looked up at Bernie. “I thought you may have figured it out for
yourself.” 

Bernie drained the final contents of his glass. “I think I may have, but
I’m not sure if I can, or want to believe it.” 

Momo’s eyes opened as wide as possible as it began to dawn on her
exactly what it was that Jane was talking about. “Do you mean that 
you....?” 

“Cloned myself?” Jane finished the question and then answered it. “Yes.”


4 

Bernie could see Hapgood and Chollys' car parked at the end of the
street. Whether they were inside he couldn’t quite make out as the car 
was a good 75 yards or so away. There was no doubt in his mind though 
that it was definitely the same vehicle that had sat waiting for him to 
return home earlier. 

Bernie had come outside for some fresh air whilst Jane was in the
bathroom taking a shower. Seeing how tired she’d been he’d managed to 
talk her in to having a shower and changing in to fresh clothes before 
continuing with her story. After hearing Jane’s revelation Bernie 
himself had needed some time to try and take in the basic facts. Were 
Hapgood and Cholly really Police? Jane wasn’t sure who they were but 
was sure that they were connected in some way to Parkby Life Sciences. 
She’d suggested to Bernie and Momo that they should leave and go 
somewhere a little safer bearing in mind that Bernie had already been 
paid a visit that evening. To Bernie though being involved in 
government cover-ups and espionage all seemed a little too fantastical 
for him to believe and had told his sister quite clearly that there was 
no reason whatsoever to go running off again in to hiding when they 
were perfectly safe and well in his home. For Christ’s sake he thought, 
‘I’m Bernie Torme not James bloody Bond!’ 

Jane still hadn’t explained why Hapgood and Cholly had told him that she
was dead and also why she had made her appearance on the same evening 
as their visit. Bernie stood at the top of the stairs leading up to his 
flat. He leaned forward on the metal railings that acted as a banister 
and looked up aimlessly. The night sky was clear, not a cloud to 
obscure the view. It was a busy night above. Landing lights flashed on 
and off as planes flying overhead toward Heathrow neared their 
destination. The moon was clear and the rain that had been coming down 
in torrents had now lulled to a pleasant and refreshing light patter. 

“Bernie?” Jane’s voice was melodic and soothing when she wanted it to
be. 

Bernie turned but didn’t answer. Jane was standing in the open doorway
of his flat. She was wearing a pair of his jeans and a t-shirt that was 
a little too big. She looked refreshed after her shower and her damp 
shoulder length brown hair was combed back from her face. 

“There's so much I could tell you. Things you wouldn't believe.” 

“Then tell me.“ Bernie’s short sharp reply said a good many things that
Jane understood very well. 

They looked at each other in abeyance for a while before Bernie sighed
and turned back away from his sister, clutching tightly to the 
banister. His hands gripped the railings so hard that if there was 
light he would have seen his knuckles turning white, his back was 
hunched like a weary old man. 

“How do I know that you’re my sister?” 

Jane hesitated before answering. It was a question that she’d expected
sooner or later. “What do you mean?” she replied innocently, although 
she knew exactly what he was getting at. 

Bernie turned around again to face her. 

“How do I know for sure that my sister wasn’t killed in that house in
Yorkshire? How do I know that in fact you’re not the clone? If there is 
a clone? How do I know that this isn’t just some psychologically 
disturbed yarn that you’re spinning me here?” 

“Bernie I really don’t have the time to go in to every detail about my
work, just believe me. I am Jane, I am your sister.” 

He moved away from the railing and stepped towards her, stopping about a
foot away. He really wanted to believe her. 

“Maybe you don’t know who you are yourself.” He looked up again to the
sky as if searching for an answer. “The photograph that they showed me, 
it was. I mean...” Bernie couldn’t find the right words to explain what 
it was that he wanted to say. “It was you in the photograph. It was 
you, dead.” 

“It wasn’t me Bernie”, Jane’s soft voice could have brought an empire to
its knees. “It wasn’t the real me. Just a copy. A copy in every way, 
except without the memories or feelings.” 

Jane could see how upset her brother was. She knew how traumatic the
last six months had been for him, they’d always been so close. They 
looked at each other for a second before the emotional dams broke and 
they engulfed each other in a tight embrace, their confused minds still 
unsure how this whole episode would unfold. 

* 

“I believed that by contributing to the project, that I would be playing
a major part in the future of a world where every disease would be 
curable. A world where there would never be a shortage of human organs 
for transplant operations. No one would ever have to donate blood 
again. Everything would be manufactured to order. If a child needed 
Marrowbone then we wouldn’t have to set up a nationwide appeal for 
donors. We’d just manufacture as much as we required. 

“I have to admit that I was blind to the reality of it all. I spent too
much time thinking what we could do and not enough about what we should 
do. I guess I forgot that the underlying factor behind anything that 
man does is motivated by greed and power. Helping our fellow man very 
rarely comes in to the equation.” 

The three of them were back in Bernie’s small living room, Jane had
decided to tell them everything and they listened intently. 

“Even though my initial intentions were good, my motivation eventually
became the glory and esteem that I’d receive when the project was 
complete and the results delivered to the Government. I also knew that 
the monetary rewards were better than I could dream of in any other 
line of business. It was a good life and I wallowed in it.” She leaned 
back in her chair, she was tired and even though she’d had a 
much-needed shower her body yearned for a good nights sleep, 
nonetheless she continued. 

“In 1964 the first animal-to-human transplants were carried out using
Chimpanzee hearts. I suppose at the time they thought that as they're 
our nearest cousins in the primate world then the match would work. 
After all, our genetic makeup is only 5% different. But of course it 
didn’t. Theory and practice very rarely go hand in hand. 

“Science wasn’t far enough advanced then to have a chance of success.
Even by 1995, over thirty years later we still hadn’t mastered using 
animal parts in humans. A U.S. AIDS patient received a baboons bone 
marrow transplant, but the grafts failed.” Jane took a drink of coffee 
that Bernie had placed on the table in front of her. “They used baboons 
because they're HIV resistant. If we could clone HIV resistant human 
organs then theoretically that’s one problem solved. Bye bye Anti 
Immune Deficiency Syndrome.” 

“What went wrong, I mean with what changed your mind on everything?
Because what you’re telling us seems like good news up to now.” Said 
Momo. 

Jane looked at them both and sighed heavily. She had a great weight on
her shoulders that she desperately needed to be released from. 

“The usual. Corruption, greed and exploitation. With the amounts of
money being pumped in to these projects there was no way that the 
authorities were going to let the normal Joe Bloggs on the street reap 
the rewards. Not unless they’re prepared to pay a substantial amount 
for it in private medical centres. As far as the Governments, British 
and American, were concerned we were working partly on a defence 
project more than anything else. I know that sounds hard to believe but 
it’s the truth. 

“The majority of the funds that we received from the Government came
from the Defence Budget. What would you say is the main reason why a 
war is won or lost?” Jane looked at them both in turn; neither answered 
her question they just waited for her to tell them. 

“The outcome depends on how many and how good your soldiers are. Imagine
pilots with enhanced reflexes and eyesight, or ground troops with 
larger hearts so that they could pump energy around their body at a 
quicker rate. Bigger muscles, better hearing. Storage facilities full 
of replacement organs. There’s no end to the list. If a soldier is 
injured he can be repaired and put back on the front line in no time. 
Or better than that, why repair him when you can just throw him away 
and make a new and better model. Of course the end result of this 
project is far off in the future, maybe decades away, but that was the 
Governments eventual goal. The Americans are worried that before long 
there’ll be another super power for them to compete with and the 
British as always still believes we’re an Empire that has to be 
involved in all that’s happening when it comes to ruling the world. 

“We’ve already known for many years what makes cells move around the
body, which then gives us a way of working on increasing a persons 
immunity system.” 

“So,” Bernie raised his hand as if in class, “in simple terms how does
it work? How do you make these super-human-beings?” 

“Basically,” began Jane, now sitting upright, “the way it works is that
the embryo is formed from the fertilised egg. After only seven days and 
multiple divisions embryonic stem cells are visible and capable of 
developing into any tissue in the body. The cells are then removed and 
each grown separately to carry on dividing and creating a line of 
specific stem cells. These cells under the correct conditions can be 
turned into ultra enhanced or over developed versions of any of the 
body’s more than 200 tissues. This goes back to what I was saying a 
minute ago about a soldier with enhanced muscle cells or an immunity 
system so strong that he or she never fell ill. Who could stand against 
a country with an army of unlimited, indestructible numbers? One dies, 
two take its place.” Jane took another drink from her coffee. She found 
it quite draining to talk about the project that she’d worked on for so 
long and given so much of her life to. “The first goal, which had been 
accomplished long before I joined the project, was the successful clone 
and fertilisation of a human embryo. That really wasn’t the difficult 
stage of the work; the first animal embryos were mice way back in 1960. 
The difficult part is to keep the embryo alive and to make sure that it 
continues to divide. 

“After that we went a stage further and developed an embryo without
fertilisation. This was where it got really complicated. The first man 
to do this was ten years ago in 2001, an American scientist called Dr. 
Michael West. Basically, what he did was to remove the nucleus from a 
human egg and replace it with cells from an adult human body. 
Theoretically it should have been easy, but he had a lot of anomalies 
and it just wouldn’t work. Fertilised eggs just weren’t completing the 
full 9-month gestation period, there was miscarriage after miscarriage 
or the embryos simply just stopped dividing. 

“For a while we diverted our attention away from human cloning and
concentrated on other species. First it was dogs, but for some reason 
dogs ova don’t stand up very well to laboratory conditions so that was 
a waste of time. From there the work switched to feline cloning, which 
if you think back hit the headlines about 9 years ago with a company 
called Genetic Savings & Clone in America. Cells taken from the mouth 
of a cat were fused with other cat donor eggs and after nearly a 
hundred attempts one of them survived. 66 days later the first cloned 
cat arrived on the planet. Companies then began to charge people 
anywhere up $50,000 to make clones of their pets. Ridiculous isn’t it! 

“After that success we were then given an even larger budget from the
Government to go back and re-concentrate our efforts to clone a human. 
This push back to human cloning also came about after South Korean 
scientists cloned 30 human embryos, which they grew up to the stage of 
producing stem cells. Somehow they had managed to get ahead of us in 
the game. Of course the U.S. and our own Government were not happy to 
say the least. Science isn’t science anymore, it’s all politics.” 

“How did you get around the legal system?” The whole thing amazed
Bernie. He remembered the Raelian Cloneaid debacle nearly ten years ago 
when the religious organisation was dragged before the courts for 
claims of successfully cloning humans. 

“It would take a long time to explain it to you in length with all the
intricacies, time which I don’t think we have. But anyway, the work 
carried on and not surprisingly there were many publicised objections. 
Even the Pope was against us. In particular, not long after I’d started 
working for Parkby, the Pro Life Alliance took the Government to court 
and won a challenge to the then current laws on embryo cloning for 
research. 

“A simple answer to your question is that at that time the laws didn’t
cover cloning for stem cell research in to diseases. There were a lot 
of loopholes in the system specifically put there by the Government to 
make it easier for us to get around the law. Of course, the facts of 
all the projects that we worked on had to be heavily guarded secrets or 
there’d have been hell to pay if anything leaked to the wrong hands. 
You’ve got to remember that in the early nineties France, Germany and 
Italy were campaigning for a total ban across the globe. There were 
even calls from the Vatican that anyone involved in the termination of 
embryos used in experimentation should be tried for murder. In 2003 the 
then U.S. President George Bush was calling for a total ban on cloning 
for any purpose stating religious and moral grounds but he was just 
looking for votes from the large Christian community in the States for 
his next election campaign. You ever want to see two-faced policy in 
action then just take a good look across the Atlantic.” Jane sighed 
heavily and stretched her neck to relieve the ache of her long story. 
After taking another drink of her coffee she again continued. 

“The United Nations was also pushing a legislation. Britain at that time
seemed to be one of the few countries that wanted to oppose any bans. 
Of course that changed and the UK Government did eventually put a ban 
on research related to the cloning of a human. It was all just a cover 
though to keep the critics off their back and our work continued 
regardless. 

“Anyway, the judgment that was passed in court meant that the Government
had no further power to licence or fund any form of cloning. To the 
people behind closed doors though, the judgment wasn’t worth the paper 
it was written on. They simply ignored it and after a time we finally 
mapped the human DNA sequence. The Americans, before Bush was in 
office, had already started their own specific research in to this 
called the ‘Genome Project’. They invested thirty one million dollars 
alone in the late nineteen nineties to do just the same as us. 

“The eventual factor in accomplishing our aim came with the discovery of
a new hormone, as I mentioned before, which sped up the whole growth 
process at an unbelievable rate. The results were phenomenal. The 
gestation period was reduced from 9 months to 3 weeks and even 
afterwards the growth pattern stayed at this rate. That means that 
after birth a successfully cloned human can reach adulthood in just 18 
months.” Jane put her now empty coffee mug back on the table and 
composed herself, “I was the first to volunteer for the next stage. 

“When we were at the point where we knew for certain that what we
hypothesised would actually work I volunteered for cells to be taken 
from my skin and implanted in to the egg where the nucleus had been 
before. The egg itself also was mine. The growth hormone was infused 
and as they say ‘then there were two’.” 

There was silence for a minute before Bernie asked, “So what was the
deciding factor that made you change your mind,” he was quite 
enthralled by everything that his sister was telling them. He was like 
a child listening to fairy tales. The only thing was that he wasn’t 
sure if he was excited or frightened. “What was it that finally made 
you say ‘Hey, it’s not right’?” 

Jane breathed deeply, “I realised that we had the scientific power to
change peoples lives. We were playing Creator here and the enormity of 
it all was a fantastic feeling. With stem cell cloning we could grow 
cells into virtually any other body cell types. This would develop 
replacement tissues that would be tailored for the treatment of 
unlimited conditions. If that knowledge had been developed in the right 
direction, then four years ago when David had had his accident,” just 
for a brief moment she closed her eyes and paused, “he may,” she 
reopened her eyes and continued, “have survived. But instead he died. 
Obviously four years ago the work wasn’t ready but I thought in the 
future how so many people would miss out and how wrong the long term 
goal of the project was. I also realised that in an already 
overpopulated world the complications that factory-manufactured humans 
would eventually put on society. 

“We’re using the knowledge for destroying instead of moving forward.
We’re trying to do what Hitler had dreamed of in Nazi Germany. Creating 
a master race; a perfect being. There would be no more of Darwin’s 
evolution by natural selection. 

“Plus, on top of that and I would say more importantly there were other
factors involved in my decision. The projects that I myself worked upon 
were just the tip of the iceberg. The amount of experimentation 
involving stem cells, cloning and humans in general is unbelievable. 
Parkby has a huge storage come library-like facility that is used just 
for keeping stem cells recovered from umbilical cord blood. Umbilical 
cord blood contains small amounts of stem cells that can be then used 
to grow in to new healthy tissue. The source of the umbilical cord 
blood is what will shock you. Parkby has unofficial deals in place with 
a number of hospitals in England. Umbilical cord blood is taken from 
every birth at these particular hospitals without the parent’s 
knowledge and then in return for a regular and substantial donation to 
the hospital that blood containing vital stem cells is forwarded to the 
Parkby storage facility. 

“There is also the problem of finding enough donors of human oocytes, or
eggs given a simpler name. When I volunteered I was given a hefty bonus 
in my paycheck in return. This is an offer that has been handed out to 
every female member of staff at Parkby also. With enough pressure 
you’ll find it’s amazing how many people, including the most unwilling, 
end up being volunteers. 

“With the amount of experiments and projects that were being undertaken
at Parkby there’s also a constant demand for natural embryo’s. Not all 
the embryo’s manufactured at Parkby survive to the required stage and 
so there has to be another, more reliable supply. It’s quite simple 
really and very similar to the deal that’s in place for the obtainment 
of umbilical cord blood. A large number of private and NHS abortion 
clinics are on Parkby’s payroll. There’re probably somewhere in the 
region of about 500 aborted embryo’s and foetus’s being brought in to 
Parkby every week from these places. Of course the women that supply 
these embryos and foetuses haven’t a clue what’s going on. 

“I can only imagine what other terrible schemes are in place there that
I don’t know about.” 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them as Jane finished
her story. For Bernie the fairy tale had finished and the cruel reality 
of humankind quickly sunk back in. He got to his feet and went through 
to the kitchen before returning with a glass of ice-cold water. “So 
what you’re saying is that you disappeared because you couldn’t just 
quit. Is that right?” 

“Exactly right. It’s not the kind of place where you can just hand in a
months notice and move on to a new job. They expect that when you sign 
your name on the official secrets act then your signing over your life. 
Think about the inside knowledge that people like myself have. When you 
see a report of the latest scientific discovery in the media it’s 
already out of date. What you read in the newspaper usually happened at 
least 6 months prior. And most of what we do and know never leaves the 
four walls of the laboratory.” 

“So where have you been?” Bernie sat back down on the sofa. 

“First of all I just simply packed a bag, emptied my bank account and
headed up to Scotland. I didn’t try to leave the country, as I knew 
that I’d probably be detained at any airport or ferry dock. I hired a 
car under a false name and moved around, stayed in country bed and 
breakfasts, kept a low profile. As you know I didn’t contact anyone. I 
couldn’t.” 

“And did they come looking for you?” 

“I’m pretty certain that they must have done something. A scientist
working on a top secret Government project disappears without trace, 
it’s hardly the norm.” Jane leaned forward and took a cigarette from 
the packet that she had placed on the coffee table earlier in 
anticipation of the need. Her hands were shaking and it took a minute 
for her to light up. Leaning back in the chair she stared up at the 
ceiling and inhaled. “They must have looked at the option that I’d 
possibly been abducted.” 

“Or defected?” Bernie interjected. 

“That wouldn’t really happen. Because the States and Britain were, and
still are, the only places really carrying on with the cloning process 
at such a high level we were secretly attracting the top scientists 
from all over the world. Take for instance Professor Severino Antinori 
from Italy. Ten years ago he famously moved to the U.K. to work on the 
project because he wasn’t allowed to continue his work in his homeland. 
There isn’t anywhere to defect to voluntarily if you’re already here. ” 
She tapped ash out in the ashtray and inhaled again. “So, after 
spending three months travelling around Scotland I came back south. I 
suppose I was a little homesick. I wanted a normal life. Three months 
on the run is a long time.” 

“And then...? Where did you go?” Momo spoke for the first time since
Jane’s revelation. 

“I just carried on moving around. I knew by now that they were following
me. For some reason, which I couldn’t understand, they kept their 
distance. Maybe they just wanted to know what I was up to. There’s a 
lot of animal and human rights groups that would be very interested in 
some of the things that I’ve done. Eventually, last month I contacted 
one of the other scientists that I knew I could trust. His views were 
the same as mine but he was too scared to oppose the project. I needed 
to know what was happening. I needed to know if he’d heard anything as 
to my disappearance. 

“It seemed that my clone had been, shall we say, ‘rescued, liberated’.
An underground group that protested against human cloning broke into 
the lab using insider help. They walked straight out unchallenged with 
the clone. Stupidly they set it free into society to fend for itself, 
naively believing that they were doing it a great favour. Don’t ask me 
to explain but I managed to find out a few details about this group, 
who they were and where they were based. I did some tracking work of my 
own and from there was ultimately able to contact my clone.” 

“How was that?” asked Bernie, “I mean actually looking at a copy of
yourself face to face.” 

Jane managed a smile. “Surreal is the easiest description. Truly
surreal. Anyway I decided that I had a responsibility to help her. I 
suppose it felt in a way like she was a sister or something like that. 
Strange I know but there you go. I couldn’t just turn my back on her. I 
can only think that the Government were tracking both the clone and 
myself though and probably weren’t sure which was the clone and which 
one was the real Jane Griswell. Maybe they’d managed to infiltrate the 
protest group that took her, I don’ t know. But they were following 
both of us, that’s for sure. Unable to help herself she, my clone, had 
been sleeping rough and living on left over food from bins. She really 
was in a sorry state and had no idea whatsoever of how to fend for 
herself or live in the outside world. I don’t know what she was feeling 
when we met or whether she remembered me from the laboratory but I told 
her that I could help her. We talked together a couple of times in 
public places, that wasn’t a problem as people would just look at us 
and think that we were identical twins. I even bought her some new 
clothes and shoes. 

“To cut a long story short the old house where the police told you that
I had died was a place that I myself had slept rough in a few times 
whilst in hiding. It was safe and I had the idea that the two of us 
with enough stored supplies could stay there for a few days whilst I 
decided what to do next for both her and I. I even put a new lock on 
the front door to make it more secure. Bit of a stupid idea really 
bearing in mind that the door itself was so rotten and lice ridden. 

“Well, as I said I haven’t any idea to how they found out but someway or
other the people that had been following us must have roused my plans. 
When I arrived at the house I had expected to see her car, which I 
rented for her, parked outside. Don’t ask me how but she knew how to 
drive. I don’t know what Parkby did to her after I absconded but she 
did have a few skills that were quite a surprise to me. 

“Well, as I came within view of the house instead of just one car there
were three plus a large group of men milling around the place. I had no 
way of telling if they’d seen me but I just got the hell out of there 
as quickly as I could. 

“Because I’m still alive then they must think that I’m the clone. My
life means nothing to them, my work is all documented and can be copied 
by someone else. The clone is too important to the project to destroy. 
It’s living evidence of the success. Although it sounded an easy 
process, it took many attempts over a period of time using cells and 
eggs from my body to finally get it right.” 

“What do you think they’ll do next?” Bernie’s look of abjection showed
his feelings clearly. He scratched his forehead and drained the glass 
of water in his hand. 

“I’m not sure.” replied Jane. She was tired both mentally and
physically. She rubbed her hands across her face and breathed deeply 
before looking back across the room to her brother. 

Bernie replied, “I’ll tell you what I think. As soon as they realise
that they’ve got the wrong one then they’ll be coming for you. I would 
say that when they told me that you were dead they were pretty sure 
that that was the end of the story. I suppose that they didn’t expect 
you to turn up here tonight.” 

“That’s exactly why I went to Momo first. I thought from the outset that
Parkby security would be watching here to see if I made contact at all. 
After what happened last night at the house I just felt so alone that I 
automatically headed back to London. I’m sorry to put you both in 
jeopardy but I just needed friends and family around.” 

“You don’t have to apologise Jane, we’ll work something out don’t
worry.” said Bernie in as reassuring a voice as he could manage. “Now, 
lets look at the situation. They’ve disposed of the one they believe to 
be you. Whether they know that they’ve made a mistake or not we have no 
way of finding out. Only twenty minutes ago Hapgood and Cholly were 
still out the back and I’d say if we checked, then they’ll still be 
there now. Momo, go have a look.” 

Momo got up and headed to the door. She was back in a second nodding her
head. “Still there.” 

Bernie stood by the window looking out for anything remotely suspicious.
He’d felt a little scared at the realisation of what was actually going 
on in the world behind the shutters but now his fear had turned to 
obstinate defiance. 

At this time in the morning it would be unusual for more than a couple
of people to be out on the street and in fact there was no one around 
at all. The street below was void of any signs of life. Apart from the 
shop security lights and the television sets, which were turned on 
twenty-four hours a day in the rental shop across from him, nothing was 
active at all. 

“Well, everything seems okay out here....” Bernie stopped mid sentence
just as he was about to turn away from the window. He saw a glint of 
light from the darkened window of the flat directly opposite across the 
street, followed by a single red dot that rested on his chest. He spun 
away quickly and screamed as he dived to the floor; crashing through 
the glass coffee table on his way, “Get down!!!” 

5 

Opening his eyes, Bernie leadenly stirred. 

“Everyone okay?” he said. 

Momo and Jane both nodded but neither moved from their prone positions
on the hard wooden floor. Bernie himself was covered in shards and tiny 
fragments of glass from the coffee table. The actual aluminium frame of 
the table lay half across his back. He had a minor cut on his right 
arm, which he’d used to cushion his fall, but apart from that was 
pretty much unscathed. Moving very slowly and twisting his head he 
turned to look at the window. There was a small clean hole where the 
bullet had passed through only a split second after Bernie’s manoeuvre. 
It had narrowly missed both him and Momo by a hairs breath before 
careering across the room and through the screen of the television set 
in the corner. The window was not cracked in any place and in no danger 
of shattering. The shot had been very precise, very professional. 

Bernie began to crawl the few feet across the floor towards the door. He
was fully aware that at any moment a second bullet could come hurtling 
through the window or that Hapgood and Cholly would be bustling through 
the back door and down the hallway. This certainly wasn’t what he was 
used to experiencing on a Friday evening and he noticed his hands 
physically shaking as he moved. The living room was only about fifteen 
feet in length but it seemed to take forever to reach the doorway. 

Finally he made it and looked back through the window towards where he
presumed to be a hidden gunman across the street. Lifting his shoulder 
from the floor he stretched his left arm up as far as he could manage 
without causing himself an injury. Reaching with his index finger he 
was able to pull the light switch down and plunge the room in to 
darkness. That, he hoped, would give them a little cover. He rose to a 
crouching position and paused for a brief second to contemplate his 
next move. 

The light in the hallway was already switched off. Just to his right was
a door, slightly ajar, that led into his bedroom. The lights were off 
in there also and the curtains conveniently closed due to the fact that 
he’d never bothered to open them when he’d woken that morning. Bernie 
decided to head for the bedroom and turning he beckoned Jane and Momo 
to follow him. 

In the same manner that Bernie had manoeuvred out of the living room
Jane and Momo made their way precariously across the floor to the 
temporary sanctuary of the bedroom. After what seemed like the longest 
two minutes in history they made it out of the living room and in to 
Bernie’s bedroom. It was dark in the bedroom and an uneasy feeling hung 
in the air. The three of them sat facing each other, out of the line of 
fire from a window on the far side of the room. There was an 
indescribable silence over all three of them. There was nothing to say. 
Nothing they could think to say. They simply sat and looked at each 
other. If there had been light then it would have shown their faces 
free of _expression and totally dazed to the whole situation that they 
now found themselves in. All they could do was to wait and see who 
would make the next move. 

A good five minutes passed whilst they sat in Bernie’s bedroom. They’d
expected there to have been a follow up straight away, but it hadn’t 
come. Was that a good sign or not? They couldn’t be sure. Were they 
simply expected now to walk out and surrender themselves to whoever it 
was that wanted them? Had the shot been intended to miss or had Bernie 
simply been lucky? 

“It seems that we’re not in a particularly good position right now,”
said Bernie stating the obvious and breaking the silence whilst somehow 
managing to keep the shocked dismay out of his voice. 

“I’ll go, its me they want. I’m not prepared to put the two of you at
risk.” Jane began to get to her feet before Bernie grabbed her by the 
arm and swiftly pulled her back down to the floor. 

“I don’t care how you feel about this, we stick together.” Bernie had
drawn himself together a little and in the silence had been thinking 
hard about a plan of action. He turned to Momo; he’d noticed how quiet 
she’d been since hearing Jane’s bombshell account of human cloning. Now 
this latest escapade to the evening had, quite understandably, shaken 
the usual strong confidence out of her totally. 

“How are you holding out Momo,” he said. 

“I’ll be fine,” was her simple answer. Bernie put his hand on her
shoulder and even in the darkness of the room she could just make out 
his reassuring smile promising her that it would be. 

“Okay, lets look at what we know. Out the back are Hapgood and Cholly.
The front is definitely a no go,” Bernie paused before adding, “we 
can’t stay here though, we’re just sitting ducks waiting to be caught. 
I say we take our chances with Hapgood and Cholly. Maybe we can try and 
sneak out without their noticing.” He waited for approval. Momo and 
Jane both affirmed with a whisper of agreement to the plan. 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

* 

“Right, so we forget that plan.” Bernie said as the three of them
crouched in the dark hallway halfway between the back door and the 
living room. 

Bernie had taken a look out of the kitchen window at the back of the
flat to see not only Hapgood and Cholly in their car, which was now 
parked again by the stairs leading up to the back door, but also two 
large transit size vans that had not been there earlier. There was no 
way that the vans couldn’t be connected to Hagood and Cholly. 

With these factors in mind Bernie had taken the executive decision that
they weren’t leaving via the back entrance. Unfortunately as the front 
of the flat had already proven itself as a no go area then they weren’t 
left with an abundance of alternative options. 

God only knows how many people were in the back of the vans, thought
Bernie. He surmised that they could hold at least ten men apiece by the 
size of them. Another thought that also sprung to mind was that the 
vans were, if they were connected to Hapgood and Cholly, some form of 
surveillance vehicle. Hapgood and Cholly could quite easily have bugged 
his flat without him knowing whilst he was in the bathroom earlier. If 
that was the case then silence was now imperative. Bernie guessed 
though that with the level of modern technology available to 
institutions like Parkby Life Sciences that bugs were probably somewhat 
of an outdated form of spying as far as they were concerned. 

“So, what do we do now?” Momo whispered. 

Bernie rubbed his chin and quietly said, “There is another way, but I’m
not sure whether it’s any safer or not.” 

“I don’t think we really have a choice right now.” added Jane. 

Bernie got to his feet. “Okay, just give me a second.” 

Jane and Momo stayed huddled in the hallway whilst Bernie cautiously
went back in to the kitchen and then returned a second later carrying a 
chair. 

* 

The door of the flat burst open. The lock giving way to three plain
clothed men armed with handguns. As soon as they entered and saw the 
scene that confronted them they realised that they hadn’t been as 
thorough in their planning of this operation as they should have been. 

In the middle of the hallway stood a single chair. The chair was lit, as
if by a stage spot lamp, by the ghostly moonlight shining down through 
a small open sky light directly above. 

Hapgood barged aggressively past the three men who were fixed statuette,
staring at the chair as if it were some fantastic piece of art on 
display. Hapgood too saw the chair and then the open skylight above. 
Frustrated at his own incompetence he marched over and kicked the chair 
with all his fury sending it hurtling down the narrow hallway. He was 
far from happy. Banging a clenched fist on the wall he let out a deep 
rumbling groan of dissatisfaction. Hapgood had expected an easy nights 
works, but it seemed that the goal posts had been moved a considerable 
distance. It was now a case of back to the drawing board. 

Slowly his initial anger at being fooled subsided. He sighed intensely
with both hands firmly placed on his hips. He then turned back around 
towards the three men in the doorway. 

“Okay. Lets go.” 

Following after his servile retainers, Hapgood reluctantly left the
flat. He was clearly disappointed with what he had found. The 
conclusions that he’d earlier drawn after speaking with Bernie Torme 
had led him to believe that this would be a piece of cake. The 
appearance at the flat of Bernie’s sister, Jane Griswell, had only 
served to confirm his assumptions. They hadn’t expected her to walk 
straight in to their lap so to speak. As well as Bernie’s place, Momo’s 
home too had been under surveillance by a joint Police and Parkby team. 
After Jane had made contact with Momo their initial plan had had to be 
scrapped. Plan B was simple; apprehend Jane, Bernie and Momo. 

All known exits had been covered, and then the trio had been coaxed in
to making their escape with a well-placed bullet through the living 
room window from an expert marksman across the street. Hapgood had 
moved in for the kill only to find that they’d let slip a black spot 
that he should have seen. If you can’t go forwards, if you can’t go 
back, and you can’t go down then where do you go? Up. Shit, he thought 
with self-rebuke; if he’s blown the operation by a schoolboy error then 
his head would certainly be on the block. Questions would be asked and 
he wouldn’t have the answers. 

As Hapggod walked down the stairs from the flat the rest of the
fifteen-strong team at the bottom of the stairs could see that he was 
visibly annoyed. He looked at them through a furrowed brow as he spoke. 


“Cholly.” He said looking at his partner. “I want you and five men that
way,” he pointed to his left along the alley that ran behind the shops 
and homes above them, “Hargreaves,” Hapgood looked to his unit leader, 
an old friend of Hapgood and a staunch and robust individual, almost 
caveman like in his appearance with a heavy beard and protruding 
forehead, “you and five others that way,” he pointed to his right, “the 
rest of us will stay here but I want you out of site. They can’t have 
been gone long so they're still close by.” 

Detective Hapgood’s back seat passenger who had now stepped out of the
car and in to the street closed in on the Detective, “I do hope that 
nothing is amiss Detective.” His voice was intimidating in its tone. 

Hapgood faced the man. He was tall and though not bulky was firm in his
posture. “Don’t you worry Mr. Alkman, you’ll have them soon enough.” It 
was the first time in the evening that he’d used his name. Hapgood 
didn’t like the man and he didn’t like the way he looked down at him as 
if he was a piece of crap under his shoe. 

The teams moved in to action and Hapgood, closely followed by Alkman,
climbed in to the back of the nearest van. 

Bernie had been correct with his guesses as to what was inside the vans.
The first had brought the fifteen-armed men, including the driver. The 
second, in which Hapgood now sat, housed a state of the art 
surveillance system manned by a small team of three. What Bernie had 
not guessed was that the surveillance system was not only audio but 
visual too. Over the past ten years every street in the City had been 
fitted with CCTV cameras just as George Orwell had predicted and with 
the equipment, which Hapgood now had at his disposal, he was able to 
tap in to any camera in any street in any district he so desired. Big 
Brother was certainly watching and right now he was watching a screen 
that displayed the very street where Bernie’s flat was located. Alkman 
peered annoyingly over his shoulder. 

Hapgood was optimistic by nature about the results that his fellow team
members would return with and as ever he insisted on playing an 
integral role in the operations to make sure that that optimism never 
faded. 

Three people within his grasp had eluded him and he was not best
pleased. Or more importantly he wasn’t happy at the way in which it 
portrayed him to Alkman. He knew that everything that happened would be 
relayed back to Alkmans bosses at Parkby Life Sciences. Unfortunately 
for Hapgood, Alkman happened to be the Deputy Head of Security for the 
company. 

Around the screens and in front of Hapgood were a row of switches and
buttons. He pressed a small LED green button to his right. This put him 
in contact with the other team consisting of another five, situated in 
an empty flat opposite Bernie’s from where the shot had been fired 
earlier. A clear voice came from the speaker next to the visual display 
unit. 

“Barnes here. ” said the uniform voice. 

“This is Hapgood. It seems that they’ve escaped through a skylight in
the roof. Did you see anything from your side?” 

“Not a thing Sir. ” 

“Keep your position and let me know the second you have anything to
report.” Hapgoods voice lacked any form of emotion whatsoever; it was 
the voice of someone who simply wanted to get the job done. He stood by 
the motto, ‘We go in, we get what we want, and we get out’. The only 
problem was that on this particular occasion he’d gone in but come out 
with nothing. 

“Affirmative Sir. ” Barnes finished the conversation. 

Hapgood applied his full attention back to the screens in front of him
for a brief interlude before picking up the receiver of a telephone to 
his left and dialling a single number. After a second he was through. 

“This is Hapgood,” he paused as the recipient responded, “I need one
helicopter with heat sensing scanners, how long?” There was another 
pause; to the reply Hapgood said, “Five minutes, not good enough, make 
it two.” Hapgood slammed down the receiver and groaned. He knew he was 
being unreasonable with his request but he had no option. Tonight was 
to have been the culmination of six months of hard work and 
perseverance. Unfortunately it was not going in the direction that he 
had hoped and planned for and to top it all he didn’t enjoy having to 
work alongside the likes of the man standing annoyingly close behind 
him. 

Hapgood groaned displeasingly not for the first time that evening and
waited for the helicopter to arrive. 

6 

Bernie’s flat was silent. Silent, dark and lifeless. The only form of
animation was the steady patter of rain falling through the open 
skylight. A puddle had formed below and a small area of the carpet was 
now saturated. Along the left side wall of the long narrow hallway from 
the entrance of the flat were the three closed doors of the clothes 
cupboards. Very slowly, the door of the first opened. A foot 
tentatively reached out, followed by a leg. 

By the luminous hands on his wristwatch Bernie judged that he’d been
inside for about ten minutes. He clambered out through the old coats 
and shirts that hung from a railing across the top of the cupboard. 
Standing in the hallway he peered around to see if all was safe. The 
only light came from the kitchen to his the right. Bernie crept to the 
main door of the flat and locked a top bolt. He’d had the extra bolt 
fitted a long time ago for security after his neighbour had been 
burgled during the night but this was the first time he’d actually used 
it. It clicked in to place. The door could now only be opened from the 
inside. He noticed that the main Yale type lock had been broken earlier 
by Hapgood’s officers. After securing the door Bernie returned along 
the corridor to the other clothes cupboards. 

“It’s okay, you can come out now,” he said quietly at the second
cupboard door. He then repeated this at the third door whilst giving a 
slight tap on each. 

The doors opened and out stepped Momo and Jane sequentially. They both,
quite expectedly, looked somewhat frightened. 

“Do you think they’ll be back?” asked Momo, whispering just as Bernie
had told them to do earlier. 

“Eventually, but we should have a little time to get ourselves sorted. I
think that they’ll be confused more than anything else right now.” 
Bernie was in charge and he knew it. Usually it was Momo whose 
confidence controlled the situation but she had been knocked for six by 
everything that she’d heard and seen in the past couple of hours. She 
was quite happy to be told what to do and how to do it for once. 

“Go back to the bedroom and wait,” said Bernie still whispering. “I’m
going to check out back to see what’s going on.” 

Crouching as they went, Jane and Momo did as they were told whilst
Bernie turned and scurried in to the kitchen. 

As the light in the kitchen had been left on Bernie crawled on hands and
knees whilst making his way across the lino-covered floor to a large 
window that looked out over the back street. It was hard to establish 
exactly what the situation was but he could still see the two vans plus 
Hapgood and Chollys car. He couldn’t though see anyone around the 
vehicles. Where were they? He noticed, more importantly, that there was 
no one inside either cab of the vans. 

If the light in the kitchen was off then he could’ve stood and gotten a
better view. If he turned it out now and someone was watching then the 
game would be up straight away. Even though it looked pretty quiet out 
there, there was no way of telling what was going on at all. Bernie 
found it hard to believe that Hapgood was just sitting dormant waiting 
for him to make the next move. 

It was then that he heard a strange and unfamiliar whirring sound from
above. He wasn’t sure what it was initially but was soon aware that the 
noise was that of the spinning blades of a helicopter. At first it 
sounded just close, but quickly the sound of the swiftly rotating 
blades grew louder and louder until the helicopter was directly over 
the flat. 

From behind, a bright light shone through the door of the kitchen and
across the glistening lino floor. It was the searchlight from the 
helicopter prying through the open skylight in to the hallway. 

Bernie felt his heart physically slump as the realisation of ‘sneaking’
past Hapgood faded from a slim chance to all but no hope at all. There 
was only one option that he could think of and it wasn’t a good one at 
that. 

* 

“Okay, what have we got?” asked Hapgood into the receiver, which
connected him to the pilot, as he sat in the back of the surveillance 
van. 

The reply from the helicopter was not what he’d expected. “We’re picking
up body heat in two rooms sir,” said the pilot. 

“Are you sure you’re checking the right flat?” Hapgood said, quite
astonished. 

The reply was quick, “Definitely sir, three positive sources of heat
sir. There’s no mistake.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Hapgood put down the receiver aggressively and then
banged his clenched fists hard on the desk. The picture on the screen 
in front of him flickered for a second due to the violent vibration. 

“ I don’t believe they’ve pulled the oldest trick in the book.” He was
actually quite stunned, as well as being disappointed with his own 
inefficiencies. 

“Well Detective, looks like you’ve had a stroke of luck.” Alkman’s voice
was mocking. 

Hapgood ignored the snide comment. He picked up the radiocom from the
desk and spoke in to it. 

“Cholly?”. 

There was a slight pause before Chollys' voice came crackling down the
line, “Nothing to report Sir.” 

“That’s because they’re still in the bloody building.” Hapgood was
abrupt. 

“Still inside?” Cholly said, surprised. “We’re on our way Sir.” 

“No, stay in your current position unless I say otherwise.” 

“Yes Sir.” 

Hapgood relayed the same message to Hargreaves, as well as thanking him
for pulling a few strings in getting the helicopter here so quickly, 
not only was he a ground unit leader but also a senior pilot in the 
Police airborne division. He then put the radiocom in his coat pocket 
and got to his feet. 

Stepping down from inside the van Hapgood took the radio-com back out
from his pocket, altered the frequency accordingly and spoke to the 
pilot of the helicopter. “This is Hapgood, are you still getting 
readings from two separate rooms?” 

“Yes Sir, two readings from a room to the front of the building and one
reading from a room at the back.” 

“Fine.” Hapgood returned the radio-com back to his pocket. 

He took a quick look to both ends of the street. He could see Cholly and
Hargreaves in their positions. Another four men were crouched in 
readiness under the steel steps that ran up to Bernie’s flat. He looked 
up to the kitchen window of the flat. A determined grimace crossed his 
face. The rain had grown stronger again and the wind had returned with 
it. He couldn’t see anyone in the kitchen but his line of view wasn’t 
that good from where he was standing. Reaching under his coat Hapgood 
pulled a small handgun from his shoulder holster and made for the 
stairs that led up to the door of the flat. 

Even if only to keep face with Alkman and his people at Parkby, Hapgood
decided that he wouldn’t be fooled again. 

* 

From his vantage point, peering from the kitchen window, Bernie watched
Hapgood march towards the stairs outside. There was a sense of urgency 
in his movements. He watched as the Detective reached into his coat and 
took something out. Bernie saw what it was as the Detective passed 
under the street lamp at the bottom of the stairs and the light from 
above reflected on the barrel of the gun in his hand. Hapgood’s brow 
inclined sharply and the frustrated visage contorting his face showed 
very well that he meant serious business. 

The helicopter still hovered deafeningly above the flat; its spotlight
would make things a lot easier for Hapgood once he was inside. Bernie 
had to make sure that he was better prepared than his hunters if he 
were to get out of this grim looking scenario. He turned and glanced 
around the room. What did he have that he could use as a weapon? Did he 
want to fight? If he resisted there was the chance that if not he, but 
then Momo or Jane could be badly hurt, or even killed. Hapgood had 
looked as if he was desperately intent on making an entrance that would 
put even Dirty Harry to shame. They did have some time though as the 
door was bolted. But for how long would that realistically stall 
Hapgood. 

Realising that his cover was most probably gone, Bernie didn’t have to
worry now if anyone saw him. Getting to his feet he turned on his heels 
and raced out of the kitchen. As he passed the switch by the kitchen 
door he extinguished the light. When he reached the bedroom he found 
Jane and Momo bustling around the room on all fours. They were picking 
out things from cupboards and drawers and stuffing them in to an old 
rucksack. 

“What are you doing?” he asked. He hadn’t thought that there’d be
anything of any credible use to be found in his bedroom. Not that he’d 
expect anyone to find it if there was due to the fact that he kept the 
room in a constant state of upheaval. 

Jane and Momo stopped what they were doing. 

He didn’t wait for them to speak, “We’ve got to go.” 

“Where to?” asked Momo. 

“Just follow me and quickly.” 

Without a word they followed him, leaving the bag behind and retracing
his steps back to the kitchen. As they ran down the hallway a beam of 
light from the helicopter shone down on them each in turn for a 
fleeting second as they passed under the skylight. Momo grabbed 
Bernie’s arm just as they reached the doorway of the kitchen and 
pointed towards the door of the flat. The handle was turning. It was 
Hapgood. He’d raced up the steps quicker than Bernie had anticipated. 
Bernie put a single finger up to his lips and gestured for them to 
carry on in to the kitchen. 

“What now?” Jane whispered almost inaudibly. 

“We're going down.” mouthed Bernie, pointing his finger at the same time
to try and make himself understood. 

Bernie went over to the kitchen window and opened it, desperately trying
not to make a sound. If Hapgood was outside the door then that meant he 
was also only a few feet away from them and the window itself. 

Momo and Jane both looked at Bernie inquisitively. They couldn’t quite
grasp what it was that he had in mind. He beckoned them over to stand 
next to him by the open window. 

“This is the plan.” he said; so quietly that they had to lean in close
to hear what he was saying. “Any second now, when he starts to get 
irate, that door is going to fly open. When it does, we go out the 
window. It’s only about a three foot drop down to the stairs.” 

Momo asked, “And then..?” 

“Then it gets a bit more risky,” said Bernie as he heard Hapgood trying
the door for a second time, only now with a little more force. 
“Basically we’re going to..” the sentence was cut short by the sound of 
cracking wood and a solid thud as the bolt on the back door gave way 
and Hapgood tumbled through. 

Instinctively they were jolted in to action. Jane, closely followed by
Momo and then Bernie, clambered out of the kitchen window. They then 
unceremoniously jumped down the three feet to the steps below that 
Hapgood had only minutes earlier ascended. 

Once outside Bernie glanced quickly around. There was no one in sight,
apart from the helicopter crew. He realised that they needn’t have been 
so quiet in their escape as the sound of the whirring copter blades 
drowned out any noise that they may have made. Added to the heavy noise 
of the rain it really was quite deafening and Bernie was genuinely 
surprised that no curious neighbours had ventured out to take a look at 
what all the commotion was about. 

“What do we do now?” asked Jane looking to Bernie for direction. 

“The van,” said Bernie pointing as he raced down the stairs jumping
three steps at a time. 

Jane and Momo just followed, the rain whipping at their faces. Their
hair sticking to their cheeks. They didn’t have time to stop and think 
about what they were doing, they just did it. 

Bernie reached the first van. It was the surveillance van; he opened the
driver’s door. Jane and Momo ran around to the other side and climbed 
in to the passenger seats, slamming the door shut behind them. Bernie, 
behind the wheel, fumbled under the dashboard with his hands looking 
for wires to jump-start the vehicle. 

“Do you know what your doing?” Momo inquired worriedly. 

“Not really,” said Bernie, “but I once watched a mechanic doing it to
jump start an old car of mine,” he tried to look confident but the 
_expression was unquestionably transparent. Then with total surprise 
and jubilation in his voice he said elated, “Yes, got em. Now if I just 
put these two wires together, I think then that.....” 

“Bernie,” said Jane quite calmly but with a waver in her voice, “I think
it’s a bit too late.” 

Bernie looked at Jane then followed the direction of her eyes to the
focal point to which she and Momo were transfixed. In front of the van 
blocking its path were five men, all armed. All stood sturdily in front 
of the vehicle, weapons raised. All steadfastly aiming at Bernie, Jane 
and Momo. In the centre of the line stood Hapgood. Bernie touched 
together the two wires that he held in his hands under the dashboard 
but nothing happened. He quickly and dejectedly accepted that his 
escape plan had failed. 

7 

Bernie, Jane and Momo sat handcuffed together in the back seat of
Hapgood’s car. Bernie in the middle, Jane to his left and Momo his 
right. Hapgood sat in the drivers seat, next to him was Cholly. The two 
vans were still with them also, one in front and one behind. The 
helicopter had made a hasty retreat as soon as the operation was over 
and the neighbourhood had returned to its usual state of normality. 

It was still raining. Making a steady rhythmic beat as it fell on the
roof of the car that in some circumstances could have been described as 
pleasant and relaxing. This though was not one of those circumstances. 
The wind had gotten up even stronger and visibility on the road was 
poor. The wipers of the car moved frantically across the windscreen but 
achieving little. Hapgood sat hunched over the steering wheel with his 
mournful face almost touching glass. He mumbled under his breath 
something about the weather though what it was that he actually said 
was indistinguishable. Cholly made no comment. 

Almost half an hour had passed since they’d been escorted from the cab
of the surveillance van at gunpoint and bundled to their present 
location in to the back of the car. The other men had taken their 
places in the two vans. Alkman had swapped his seat in Hapgood’s car 
for one in the back of the surveillance van. Whilst Bernie, Momo and 
Jane had been apprehended Alkman had made sure to be out of their 
sight. 

For the most part of their journey up to now not a word had been spoken.
Jane had tried to ask where they were being taken and told them that it 
was only her that they wanted. She’d insisted to them that her brother 
and Momo were innocent of any crime and therefore shouldn’t be 
detained. But of course her pleas fell on deaf ears. 

As they’d been manhandled out of the surveillance van Hapgood had been
the total professional explaining that they were under arrest, all 
three of them, and that they had the right to remain silent though 
anything that they said would be taken down in evidence and may be used 
against them. The only thing was, they weren’t actually told what it 
was that they were being arrested for. When they questioned the reasons 
for their arrest they simply hit a brick wall of silence from Hapgood 
and Cholly. The two officers acted as if they were alone in the car. 
Eventually the frustration of being ignored took them over and they 
decided it a complete waste of time and energy to pursue the matter any 
further. 

Whatever it was that they were being arrested for, then resisting arrest
was sure to be added to the list thought Bernie. 

Their journey had taken them from Bernie’s home, out of London via the
North Circular Road (a long dual carriageway running from Ealing in 
West London all the way to Tottenham in North London), on to the M1 
Motorway and towards ‘The North’ as the large illuminated metal sign at 
Junction 1 had informed them. 

It was now nearly four o’clock in the morning. Bernie, Jane and Momo
were exhausted, and they supposed Hapgood and Cholly were too. Bernie 
imagined the thought of relaxing in to a nice hot bath before 
collapsing in to a comfortably warm soft bed then drifting off in to a 
deep and blissful slumber. Unfortunately he had to be content with his 
imagination as no matter how hard he tried his eyes stayed open and his 
weary mind alert. 

He turned to look at his sister. Her head was slumped and she stared
down at her feet. 

“You okay Jane?” he asked. 

She didn’t answer; she just raised her head and gave him a dejected look
that said I’m sorry. 

Bernie knew how she was feeling. “It’s going to be fine,” he said to
her, “You’ll see.” 

“Keizoku wa chikara nari,” added Momo in Japanese as she leaned across,
“’Perseverance is power’. My mother used to say that to me whenever I 
was about to give up on something.” 

“Well,” said Bernie in defiance, “we are definitely not giving up now.”
He looked forward to see Hapgood and Chollys reaction to their 
conversation but they were still acting totally oblivious to anything 
else that was going on around them. The three passengers continued to 
be ignored. 

After some time the darkness of the night gradually began to give way to
the promising red tinted morning sky and the empty Motorway had by now 
gained a little company. They’d been driving this motorway northward 
for at least two hours and, as the large metallic road signs had kept 
them informed, they had passed through Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, 
Northamptonshire, Leicestershire and were now in Nottinghamshire. 

“Any chance of stopping off somewhere for breakfast?” asked Bernie in
the direction of the front seats of the car. 

“You’ll get your breakfast soon enough,” grunted Hapgood. 

Bernie smiled to Jane and Momo. Even with the ordeal they’d been through
he was intent on keeping their spirits up as best he could. It was 
difficult though, each of them carried black rings around their eyes 
from tiredness and they really did look, as the phrase goes, like 
they’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. 

“So,” said Bernie, “anyone with any ideas yet as to where were going.” 

Jane looked at him frigidly, “I know where we’re going.” 

“Oh?” inquired Bernie to his sister. 

Momo looked at Jane also, “Where?” she asked. 

“We are going,” said Jane, looking away from Bernie and Momo and out of
the window next to her across the open fields that they’d been passing 
for the past half an hour, “to Parkby Life Sciences.” 

* 

‘PARKBY LIFE SCIENCES - RESTRICTED AREA - NO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL
BEYOND THIS POINT’, was displayed in large bold lettering on the 
reinforced aluminium sign that stood proudly by the imposingly high and 
wide main gates. The gates were about forty feet high and connected to 
a fence of similar height that ran around and enclosed the whole of the 
huge research complex beyond. Small security cameras sat atop the gates 
and also lined the perimeter fence at 10-foot intervals. 

They’d left the motorway about twenty minutes prior and then taken a
long minor `B` road, which had wound its way through woodland. From 
this, another fork had led them down yet another road until finally 
they reached the gates that now blocked their path. Parkby wasn’t 
exactly hidden but it also wasn’t an easy place to find unless you knew 
where you were going. 

The van in front stopped at the gates and after what seemed about at
least ten minutes of passing of authorisation papers and I.D. between 
the driver and the security guard, who had just emerged from a small 
brick building on their right dressed in a black military style 
uniform, the gates opened and they proceeded in to the grounds. The 
guard nodded to Hapgood through the window as they passed, ignoring his 
passengers. The second van followed through and then the gates were 
once again closed tightly shut and the security guard retreated. 

Bernie was very impressed, or in awe may well have been a better
description, at what he saw ahead of him. Was this where his sister had 
worked for ten years? The research centre of Parkby Life Sciences was 
huge, immense. It looked to be made completely of about eight floors of 
tinted glass and spread over what he guessed to be probably nearly half 
a mile or more. There were four separate buildings joined by a number 
of glass-encased walkways. Jane had told him and Momo about the vast 
amounts of money that had been pumped in to this place by the 
Government but to Bernie at this point he could only imagine how much 
it must have cost just to build it let alone fund the projects that 
were being carried out on the other side of all that glass facade. 

“How do you feel?” Bernie asked Jane. She hadn’t said a word since she’d
told them earlier where they were headed. She’d just sat there, her 
head staring down toward the floor. 

She kind of half lifted herself, “Sick.” 

“Sick?” 

“Yes,” she said. 

“Why?” said Bernie. 

“Because,” she said, giving him a look that he couldn’t quite place, “I
know what’s in there.” 

Bernie didn’t answer; he had no idea what to say to her. He looked to
Momo for help but she had no answers to offer either. Bernie was 
worried also by the fact that they’d been arrested but were not being 
delivered to an establishment of the law. 

Eventually the van in front stopped and so did they. They’d reached the
end of the driveway that ran from the main gates to the entrance of the 
building. Bernie thought it odd that there was no car park. Obviously 
it was a company that wasn’t accustomed to visitors on a regular basis. 
In front of the building was a well kept lawn that covered the ground 
from there up to the perimeter fence. On the other side of the fence 
grew thick woodland. 

Detective Cholly opened the back door of the car and Jane, Bernie and
Momo climbed out. Being handcuffed it was an awkward manoeuvre and they 
struggled to do it with any form of dignity. 

The rain had finally stopped and they now stood under a fresh early
morning sky on a small gravel forecourt outside the main entrance to 
the Research Centre. 

As they had no coats it was quite chilly out of the car. Bernie paced
and jumped on the spot to get the blood circulation flowing again. He’d 
had to endure pins and needles a good many times during their road 
trip. Hapgood turned, grabbed Momos arm and told them to follow him. If 
only to be out of the early morning dampness they were happy to oblige. 


The reception area of Parkby Life Sciences was just as impressive to
Bernie as the exterior of the complex, if not more so. A large semi 
circular steel and mahogany desk fully fitted with three security 
guards greeted them. The ceiling of the reception, which also was made 
of glass and domed, was about thirty feet eminently above. Murals hung 
from the walls to the left and right. The floor was smooth and polished 
and finished with an impressive marble effect. In many ways it reminded 
Bernie more of an entrance to a great exhibition hall than anything 
like a laboratory for genetic science. 

The design and decor was traditional and hi-tech at the same time, if
that was at all possible. Beyond the security-cum-reception desk there 
were also a number of large fibreglass models. One was of a standard 
human skeleton, the kind you’d see in any medical school. Another, by 
the side of the first, was similar but to this skeleton the muscles and 
internal organs had been added. The next model along showed the final 
stage in the sequence. It was the model of a fully formed homo-sapien, 
unnervingly quite lifelike. Behind the models were pictures and huge 
photographs of molecules and DNA strands, or so Bernie presumed that 
that’s what they were. Jane confirmed this. 

“It looks like something out of a movie.” He said still quite astonished
at his surroundings. 

Jane looked at him, “You won’t see any computer animated dinosaurs in
here Bernie,” she was deathly serious, “this is for real.” 

He didn’t reply. They were in serious trouble and he really didn’t have
the faintest idea of how they were going to get out of it. 

Hapgood walked over to them and took a small key from his pocket. They
all three held out their arms and one by one he unlocked the handcuffs. 


“No need for these anymore I think but let’s not have any funny
business, okay?” His voice sounded as tired as Bernie, Jane and Momo 
felt. 

Through the crowd, which had poured out of the two vans and in to the
reception, eighteen in total, came a tall confident looking spectacled 
man in his early forties wearing a pristine made to measure dark grey 
suit. His hair was perfectly gelled to a side parting and his expensive 
shoes tapped loudly on the floor as he walked towards Jane. He had a 
confident swagger and a contemptuous smirk. She saw him straight away 
and the _expression on her face said more than any words could describe 
that she didn’t like this man one little bit. 

“Jane”, he sang aloofly, “How nice to see you.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t say that the feeling is mutual Johnathon.” 

He stopped in front of her and laughed with open falseness at her
comment, whilst casually adjusting his designer framed glasses. The 
grin quickly turning to a straight, hard and very uncompassionate face. 


“It was very foolish of you to go running off like that Jane,” he looked
at Bernie and Momo, and then back to Jane, “I was very concerned.” 

“Concerned? I don't think so.” Jane spoke in a harsh tone that Bernie
and Momo had never heard from her before. She was very resentful to 
this Johnathon, whoever he was. He was obviously someone of authority, 
Bernie thought, by the way that everyone around had stepped out of his 
way so quickly as he’d sauntered across the reception area to meet 
them. 

He chuckled again and then without warning slapped Jane hard across the
face. She reeled back; Bernie dived forward instinctively only to be 
grabbed and restrained by two of the men that had come in the vans. 

Hapgood stepped forward between Johnathon and Jane. “I really don’t
think that there's need for that.” 

“Fuck off!” Johnathon screamed at Hapgood, his perfect hair a little out
of place, his face crimson with anger. 

Hapgood slowly backed off, he glanced toward Bernie as he did so as if
to say ‘sorry but there's nothing I can do here’. He had a few values 
after all it seemed, thought Bernie, as he continued to be restrained. 

Johnathon panted, he looked like he was almost about to start frothing
at the mouth. Jane crouched on the floor, one hand on her cheek where 
she’d been struck. “Do you treat your wife this way when she doesn’t do 
as she’s told, Johnathon.” There was no way that she was going to let 
him beat her. 

Johnathon stepped toward her. 

Instinctively Bernie broke free from the grip of the two men and lunged
forward. Grabbing his sister’s attacker by the collar of his jacket 
with one hand, he punched him squarely on the jaw with the other. 
Before he could land another blow he was again restrained by more 
guards. In a mad struggle it took six men to drag him to the ground. 
The adrenalin was pulsing through his body firing him up with power and 
strength. At length, overpowered by sheer body weight, Bernie calmed 
and was abruptly pulled up to his feet. Guards held him either side 
with his arms twisted painfully behind his back. 

He looked at Jane; she was still on the floor with a hand to her face
where she’d been hit. Catching Bernie’s gaze she smiled. 

“Dr. Cane.” A soft voice disturbed the scene. Johnathon Cane’s
secretary, a slim, attractive, corporate looking women, probably in her 
late twenties, black hair pulled perfectly back in to a bun, stood by a 
door that lead off from the main reception area. “Dr. Cane, there’s an 
urgent telephone call for you in your office.” 

“Take a message,” he grunted as he straightened his jacket and wiped the
small trickle of blood that seeped from the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s the Prime Minister Dr. Cane.” 

She didn’t have to say anymore than that. Johnathon Cane reaffirmed his
posture, turned, walked away through the door after his secretary and 
was gone. 

8 

Dr. Johnathon Cane was a very astute man. Since graduating from
Cambridge with an honours degree in Psychology almost twenty years ago, 
and then completing his Masters, he’d managed to work his way up the 
corporate and medical ladder by the use of leverage over those above 
him. He’d managed, with a degree of luck and a lot of skill, to 
perambulate along to his present position of Chief Executive Officer of 
Parkby Life Sciences with a sense of ease. He was also a very clever 
man, devious by nature and uncannily fortunate in just about everything 
that he did. 

By social standards he was successful. Money was no object, a beautiful
wife and daughter, both of whom he saw very little of as his time was 
spent at the Research Centre when he wasn’t travelling around the world 
on Parkby business. Last year alone, much to bolster his own ego and 
the superficial image of Parkby Life Sciences, he’d attended numerous 
charity events and handed over large sums of money to aid various 
charitable organisations. Everything from Guide Dogs For The Blind to 
ethnic minority help groups. This greatly helped to deviate any bad 
press that the firm had received. Thus, much to his pleasure, these 
actions accumulated in his face being printed proudly on the front 
cover of ‘Time’ magazine (a copy of which he had had framed and hung on 
the wall of his office). On the whole, Johnathon Cane was quite pleased 
with his achievements so far. 

Not long after finishing his studies, with the help of his devoted
parents (who now saw very little of their son), Cane set up his own 
Practice. Not so much as a Psychiatrist, but as he liked to call 
himself, an ‘Advisor’. For five years he’d amassed a reputation that 
brought in a client list that could also have been the who’s who book 
of the rich and famous. He mixed with an entourage of high society 
people who were more than happy to squander a large part of their 
wealth in return for his telling them how misunderstood they were by 
the rest of the world. 

At first he saw it as a challenge and he did actually enjoy the social
circle in to which it lead. But as always is the case in such 
situations he eventually found the work tedious and quite boring. In 
time he found that he didn’t much care for sitting around all day 
listening to other peoples problems. What did he care if someone was 
having trouble communicating with other members of society? Cane found 
himself being invited to dinner parties simply to give advice to all 
the guests that attended. He was beginning to feel stifled and needed 
something new to flex the muscles of his brain. He needed inspiration; 
and as Cane had come to expect in his fortunate life, it wasn’t long in 
coming. 

Spurred by the mounting media interest in the breakthroughs of cloning
and human genetics in 2001 he was fortunate enough to be recommended by 
an acquaintance in a similar field to join him in developing a 
Government funded program. The program entailed experimenting with and 
researching ex-convicts using a simple form of hypnosis in an attempt 
to alter their thought patterns. 

Cane was fascinated by behavioural studies of people and how he could
change and manipulate their actions. Unfortunately, he concluded that 
it was impossible to stop a man from committing a crime by just 
administering a course of hypnosis. If that strong desire to do wrong 
was built genetically in to him, or her, then as chaos theory states 
‘nature will find a way’; and in most cases it always did. 

Cane decided that he needed another avenue to go down with this project
and he knew exactly where that avenue lay. 

With the advancements towards the growth of specific human cells he
believed that it would be, in time, possible to change the crime gene 
so that results were permanent and the desire to commit a crime would 
disappear totally. Little did Cane know how far down the road research 
had travelled by the beginning of the 21st century. 

The results from his ‘experiments’ formed the basis of proposals put
forward to the Government and he was quickly offered a senior 
consulting role at Parkby Life Sciences. Of course, he knew a few 
people that had pulled a few strings for his fast- track move, but it 
was his almost perversive drive and determination that at the end of 
the day put him on his first steps of the rest of his life. 

Upon being introduced to his new role he couldn’t believe what he’d been
missing out on. His previous project of working on the ‘crime gene’ was 
quickly forgotten as more important projects were placed before him. 
Cane felt as if he’d been reborn. He worked tirelessly just about every 
hour of the day that God sent, much to his young wife’s displeasure, 
and concentrated his whole energy toward Parkby. 

As his work was highly sensitive, and not specifically legal (although
he felt safe as he was being paid by the Government to break their own 
laws) he told his clients, he obviously had to close his Practice, that 
he would still be contactable via e-mail. He didn’t fancy the idea of 
distraught or unstable clients trying to track him down looking for 
counselling. 

The contradictory ethics and deceit of the Government (in response by
the Minister for Public Health to a Question in Parliament on 26th June 
1997 the Governments position was made clear ‘We regard the deliberate 
cloning of human beings as ethically unacceptable. Under United Kingdom 
law, cloning of individual human’s cannot take place whatever the 
origin of the material and whatever technique is used’) fitted 
perfectly to his way of thinking. Cane was more than happy to sign the 
official secrets act and let his own criminal gene get to work. He was 
home at last. 

Both Cane and Jane Griswell had joined Parkby at about the same time.
There first impressions of each other were neutral; each respecting the 
others intellect but neither knowing the other individuals driving 
force behind accepting their new jobs. Both their careers flourished, 
but whereas Jane’s work was very hands on, Cane spent more and more 
time out of the labs and more and more time in meetings or acting as 
the presentable face of the firm. In basic terms, Cane brought in the 
funding (the Government contributed 50% of the required funds and the 
rest came from private sponsors) and Jane spent it (or some of it) on 
coming up with the results. With Cane being the experienced one for 
charity and social events, oozing charisma and wooing wealthy investors 
to get their chequebooks out of their pockets he was in his prime. 
Manipulation of human behaviour was after all what he’d always been 
most interested in. It was his speciality. 

Jane had always despised that side of the business and distanced herself
as best she could. Saying that though, she knew all too well that 
without the constant flow of money that Cane brought in then her 
research work, which at that time was her whole life, would quickly 
come to an end. 

Maybe the seeds of doubt had already been planted and begun to grow in
Jane’s mind when she thought about the people that were paying her 
wages. She did believe at that point that the Governments interest was 
for the research in to future healthcare of it citizens. But she also 
knew that the private investors were only in this for one thing. 
Monetary returns, share dividends. They most certainly weren’t signing 
their names on the dotted line from the charitable goodness of their 
heart. 

Whenever she attempted to discuss this with Cane his charm would win her
over every time. She’d spoken to him of her disillusions about the 
projects in the past and he’d then give her a long moral speech of how 
they were working for the future of mankind. He would build up her 
confidence and self-esteem; make her believe that a world without Jane 
Griswell and her colleagues was a world without hope. He always won. He 
was brilliant at his job. 

The divine light of Dr. Johnathon Cane had blinded Jane for so long that
by the time she finally walked out on Parkby Life Sciences Jane 
Griswell felt totally and utterly ashamed of herself. 

* 

“Thank you,” said Cane in to the telephone receiver, “I appreciate your
taking the time to call me,” he listened for a second to the person on 
the other end of the line, “Thank you again,...yes....I’ll do that 
Prime Minister...goodbye.” He put the receiver gently down and a smug 
grin smoothly eased across his face. 

To say that Johnathon Cane was pleased with himself at this particular
moment in time would have been a major understatement. Sat behind the 
solid desk in his lavish office he reclined in his Italian leather 
chair. After a moment of self-indulgence he got to his feet, walked to 
a cabinet in the corner of the room and opened it to reveal a small but 
well stocked bar. He perused the contents before reaching for the 
bottle of Graham’s Late Bottled Vintage Port. Cane had been saving this 
particular bottle for a day such as today. A triumph. He poured himself 
a glass and sat down on the comfy Italian leather sofa, which matched 
his desk chair and was situated along one side of the rectangular 
shaped room. He wallowed. Yes, he was very happy with himself indeed. 

There was a light tap on the door, Cane called out, knowing it to be his
secretary and she entered. 

“Dr. Cane,” she said, “they’re here.” 

“Thank you,” said Cane getting up from the sofa and straightening his
expensive made-to-measure suit. He winced a second as a drop of Port 
touched the cut at the side of his mouth where Bernie had struck him. 
He’d get that bastard back, he promised that to himself. 

Cane’s secretary backed out of the room and in walked Jane flanked by
Hapgood and Cholly. 

“It’s okay I’ll be fine on my own,” he said to Hapgood. 

Hapgood tried to protest but Cane stopped him with a wave of his hand
and Hapgood and Cholly reluctantly left the room. Hagood had wanted to 
be present at this meeting. He wanted to know why there was so much 
personal hate between these two people. There were many things about 
this whole operation that he had been annoyingly kept in the dark from. 
Right know though there was nothing he could do to set his mind at rest 
and so he and Cholly as requested took their leave. 

Back in the office Cane approached Jane. 

“Care for a drink Jane?” asked Cane holding his glass up. 

Jane didn’t answer. 

“Fine, whatever,” Cane picked up the bottle and refilled his glass.
“Please have a seat.” he gestured toward the sofa. 

Jane sat down. There was a large swelling around her right eye where
Cane had slapped her earlier. She turned her head defiantly away from 
his gaze. She didn’t want him to see how he’d hurt her. 

”We’ve done a lot of work whilst you’ve been away Jane,” said Cane,
nonchalantly, as he sat down behind the desk. 

She looked up toward him, a look of sheer hate burning in her eyes,
“Wasn’t it Einstein who said ‘Science without religion is lame’, the 
work that you’re doing is unethical, it’s evil.” 

“Einstein also said that ‘Religion without Science is blind’, but who
cares what he said.” Cane raised his voice and leaned forward over the 
desk, his hands together prayer like, his fingers entwined. “Einstein’s 
dead, this is the 21st Century we’re living in now in case you hadn’t 
realised.” His eyes glared through her, his furrowed brow snarling like 
a wild animal. 

“You’re insane,” said Jane. 

Cane laughed and leaned back in his chair, his immaculate white teeth
gleaming from his wide mouth. A moment later a new spark ignited in his 
eyes changing the _expression of his face to a somewhat darker bent, “I 
have a proposition I’d like to put to you.” 

“I’m sorry Johnathon but there’s nothing that you can say to make me go
back to working on the project.” Jane was harshly adamant. 

“I didn’t say anything about working on the project again Jane and to be
quite frank when I say a proposition it’s not exactly the right choice 
of words as I’m not strictly saying that I’m giving you much of a 
choice in acceptance or not.” 

Jane looked at him puzzled. What was he getting at? Was this yet another
of his tricks? 

Cane got up from his seat and waltzed around the desk toward her. 

“There are some things I’d like to show you.” 

* 

Bernie settled back against his seat, deep in thought. He’d been
separated from Momo and Jane and had no idea where they were right now. 
They’d been escorted under armed guard from the reception area where 
they’d originally entered the complex and taken down a number of long 
and sterile corridors. Hapgood and Cholly had then taken Jane in one 
direction, and he and Momo were taken another. After a few more twists 
and turns down identical maze-like corridors they’d come to a large 
solid metal door. It was locked electronically. The guard had entered 
the password on the lock. The door had slid smoothly open to the side 
and they’d then entered. 

On the other side of the door had been another corridor. This one
running left to right. Along the opposite wall were a number of 
similarly electronically locked doors as the one they’d passed through. 
They’d then been lead down the corridor to one of the doors to the 
left. The door was opened by the same procedure of entering a password 
and then Bernie had been pushed in. The door had slid shut behind him 
and he’d been left alone. 

He’d listened carefully to try and hear what was happening to Momo but
there’d been complete and utter silence. He’d very quickly concluded 
that the room must have been sound proofed. Was the sound proofing to 
stop noise from the outside getting in, he thought, or to keep sound 
from inside the rooms escaping out. 

Maybe Momo had been taken to the room next door, Bernie thought. He’d
hoped so, he didn’t want to be too far away from her and he could only 
believe that her feelings were the same. She would probably be just as 
frightened as he was at that very moment in time. This was not the kind 
of thing that they were used to happening in their everyday daily 
normal lives. 

The room that he was in seemed to be some sort of holding cell. The
walls were perfectly smooth stainless steel, the floor and ceiling the 
same. In the centre of the room was a chair, in which he now sat. Two 
spotlights moulded in to the ceiling provided ample illumination but 
apart from that there was nothing else in the room. Nothing to see, 
nothing to do, nothing to say, nothing to hear. Nothing. 

9 

“Bringing back any fond memories Jane?” wearing lab coat and mask, Cane
lead the way in to the main laboratory where the first stage of the 
cloning process took place. It was familiar ground to her and a 
disturbing almost nauseas feeling began to creep upon her. 

Jane recognised a few faces, old friends who were now too scared to meet
her gaze for more than a second. It was hard to read what they were 
thinking from their facial expressions as they all wore surgical masks. 
She wondered how many of them really wanted to be here. How many 
actually agreed with the ethical side of what they were doing? If they 
were honest and given the choice to walk out the door then Jane thought 
that probably about 50% of them would quickly throw off their lab coats 
and be on their way. But both she, and they, knew full well that that 
was a choice that they didn’t have. By bringing her here, back in to 
the labs, Jane knew that Cane was simply saying to everyone, ‘look, 
here's the one that got away and now she’s back, so don’t any of you 
even think about getting ideas of your own’. She was Cane’s hunting 
trophy, the predator had returned from the wild to show off his 
captured prey. Home is the hunter. 

Jane wondered if he was going to go all the way and mount her stuffed
head on a wooden plaque fixed to the wall. She certainly wouldn’t put 
it past him. 

The lab was about a hundred square feet in size. Along the walls were
numerous shelves containing bottles and flasks and various pieces of 
high tech gadgets, apparatus and equipment. Centrifuges holding 
uncountable numbers of test tubes sat on tabletops along with computers 
analysing endless amounts of data. Lights flashed and alarms buzzed and 
pinged, it was a general hive of activity. There was also that same 
sterile smell in the room that emanated throughout the whole of the 
complex but in here especially it was much stronger. 

They’d had to pass through a pressurised, quarantine chamber before
entering the room. Jane had come close to blacking out as the past ten 
years of her life had frantically flashed in front of her eyes. She’d 
felt her heart pounding and had had to fight hard to keep her breathing 
regular. It was as if all of her demons had come back to haunt her in 
one single blow; and somehow she now had to face them. She’d have to be 
strong if she were to get through this. She owed it, she thought, to 
Bernie and Momo. After all, they had nothing to do with any of the 
whole scenario, apart from the fact that Bernie was her brother and 
Momo her friend. They were the innocents tangled up in a web of deceit. 
Unfortunately for them Johnathon Cane saw them only as accomplices and 
a danger to his existence and his future plans. 

“As you know,” said Cane phlegmatically, “this is where it all begins.” 

He turned and looked at her. Even through his mask Jane could see that
he was smiling. He walked through the lab and she followed. They went 
through the door at the far end and in to another pressurised chamber 
before exiting through an adjoining door and in to a second, similar 
laboratory. In all, Cane took her through the full processing plant, as 
he liked to call it, as if introducing a new member of staff to the 
team and its procedures. He also explained in great detail any changes 
and advancements which had occurred during her absence. Simply 
‘bringing you up to date’, he’d chuckled. 

Jane herself had worked on major projects within Parkby but there were
also many others that she was unaware of. Each department had a code of 
silence and staff members were bound against talking to fellow 
colleagues about their individual work. Cane though had decided to show 
Jane a few of the things that had been previously a closed shop to her. 


He took her in to a small room. It was dark and the room was rectangular
in shape. The room’s contents were not shocking but simply surprising. 
Five rows of large fish tanks ran from end to end of the room. The only 
light in the room came from lights above each tank that kept the water 
at a tropical temperature. Jane guessed that there must be near on a 
hundred fish tanks in the room and in many ways it was just like a 
tropical fish room of a Zoo or Aquarium. 

“Please take a closer look,” said Cane as he placed a firm hand on her
back to push her forward. 

Jane bent slightly to peer in to the nearest tank. It was beautiful. The
tank was just like any ordinary tropical fish tank with its water 
filter, gravel bottom and abundance of plants. The thing that amazed 
her, holding her eyes like a child, were the fantastically bright 
coloured fish that danced around inside. She was marvelled at the red 
and green colours of the fish and the fact that they actually seemed to 
glow. 

“Very nice aren’t they,” said Cane, “genetically modified fish for the
connoisseur who wants something a little different. The green comes 
from adding a gene from a jellyfish and the red from genes that are 
taken from sea anemones.” Cane stepped around to the opposite side of 
the tank and stared through the glass and water at Jane. He continued 
to talk, “They aren’t actually that new an idea but there was initially 
so many lawsuits against their sale that the project was put on hold 
for quite sometime. Now though the US market is crying out for them. 
Very soon we hope to be shipping about half a million fish a month.” 
Cane straightened, Jane was still staring in to the tank, “That’s 
enough of this,” Cane clapped his hands together, the fish in the tank 
darted, surprised at the sharp sound, “let’s move on.” 

From here Cane lead Jane through a series of corridors that she’d not
been through in her time at Parkby. Numerous doors lined the pristinely 
bleached white walkways. Jane wondered what was going on behind these 
doors. 

Although she’d never thought about it whilst working here she realised
how little of the place she’d actually seen. 

Cane continued with his speech as they walked, “There are many things
that we are working on with regards to animal gene modifications. The 
fish are nice but people will soon become bored and look for something 
else. We have dairy cows here that have been inserted with a human gene 
to make their milk anti-microbial. Essentially that stops the milk from 
going off. We’re currently in discussions with major supermarkets to 
stock the milk once we’ve got around the present legislations that ban 
it. Tricky process but shouldn’t take too long. One supermarket has 
already signed up to buy whether it’s banned or not. They just won’t 
tell their customers that it’s genetically modified milk. It means that 
they won’t have to throw away milk that gets left on the shelf. They 
can just repackage it with a newer use by date.” 

Cane talked about various projects of a similar nature until at last
after crossing one of the glass covered walkways that joined two of the 
buildings he stopped at a set of metal double doors. In the centre of 
the doors was a shatterproof circular window. They passed through the 
swinging doors and walked a little way further before being confronted 
by a more secure looking entranceway. 

“And now for something really special,” said Cane with outstretched arms
as if he were about to unveil the greatest invention of the 21st 
Century. 

Jane was quite nervous and apprehensive about what it was that Cane was
so excited about on the other side of the door. She had absolutely no 
idea what could be housed inside. Cane held his open hand up to a pad 
on the wall that read his imprint for security clearance. A light 
scanned across the pad and after a second a robotic voice spoke. 

“Dr. Johnathon Cane, access authorised.” Said the voice. 

The door then slowly slid to the side with a subtle hiss. 

“Welcome,” he said as he ushered Jane forward, “to the maternity ward.” 

What did he mean by maternity ward thought Jane. Stepping through the
now open door she was greeted by a small reception-like area. To her 
left were a small sofa and two chairs. To her right a desk, a computer 
terminal perched atop the desk. Behind the desk sat a young spectacled 
woman. Jane was startled by the resemblance between this woman and 
Cane’s secretary. She wondered if they were in fact actually one and 
the same. Or two and the same. 

“Good morning Dr. Cane.” Said the woman as she raised her eyes from the
computer screen. 

Cane simply replied with a nod. Straight in front was another door. Cane
stepped up to this door and again pressed his hand to a pad to scan for 
admission. His clearance was confirmed and the door slid aside. 

He turned to Jane, “If you please.” He motioned her to enter. 

Once inside Jane rubbed her eyes with both hands. She pinched herself,
kicked herself, and then froze in horror. Was she dreaming? She was 
seeing clearly the sight before her eyes but her brain would not accept 
the image as a true picture of what was presented to view. 

She was in a laboratory-like room. Slightly smaller than the other labs
which she’d just passed through to get here but just as sterile in 
smell and feel. To her right hand side along the wall were ten glass 
incubators standing perfectly still on mobile metal trolleys. Each 
incubator was surrounded by apparatus, tubes and machinery. Inside each 
lay a perfectly formed newborn living baby. Some were crying, a couple 
slept peacefully and the others just lay still whilst staring up at the 
ceiling or around the room. They were perfect. 

As they lay there the apparatus around the incubators monitored their
heart rate, their blood pressure, blood sugar levels, brain activity, 
percentage growth rate and numerous other pieces of relevant 
information. 

“What..?” Jane opened her mouth to speak but the words just wouldn’t
flow, “Oh shit,” was all she could muster up. She knew what Cane had 
done. 

“Yes,” said Cane confidently as he walked over to the first incubator
and looked in, inspecting the contents like a proud father. “See how 
strong they are.” The baby was reaching up with its arms and kicking 
its legs. 

“What.., how...?” Jane was still struggling to come to terms with what
she was seeing. “This is wrong,” she walked, kind of staggered, toward 
the incubators. 

Cane looked at her, “Impressed?” 

Jane glared back at him, “No... definitely no... Cane, I ...this is very
bad.....this is...it’s...” 

“It’s just the beginning Jane. Just the beginning.” 

* 

Bernie tried to guess how long he’d been left alone in his cell. His
watch had been taken from him earlier and it was amazing how quickly 
he’d lost track of time. He guessed that it had been about an hour but 
it could quite easily have been longer. The whole concept of time did 
not exist in here and it was driving him crazy. Bernie couldn’t believe 
how just one little thing was having such a great effect on his mind. 
He wanted to know how long he’d been locked up more than anything else 
in the world. In fact, if someone came in right now, he thought, and 
offered him untold wealth, before accepting thankfully he’d ask the 
time. It’s funny, he thought, how the things that we take for granted 
become so important to us when they are taken away. 

With this in mind he wondered how Momo was holding out. He wondered
where she was. He began pacing up and down the smooth metal floor. He 
had to keep the blood circulation flowing. He didn’t want to let his 
body muscles stiffen up and make him even more irritable than he 
already was. He had to do something to try and take his mind off of how 
long he’d been in this small stainless steel prison. Was taking his 
watch part of some psychological plan? Did they want to slowly wear him 
down in a ploy to make him talk? What did they want him to talk about? 
He tried to think what he knew. It wasn’t much really. He knew what 
they were doing here and even then only the parts that Jane had told 
him and Momo earlier. But, Bernie thought, if they’d used audio 
surveillance at his flat then they would already know exactly what he 
knew and there would be little need to play these mind games with him. 

In a vain attempt to not only keep him occupied but also to see if there
was any means out of here Bernie slowly walked around the edges of the 
room tapping and feeling the wall with his fingers as he went along. 
The sounds that echoed back were not promising ones and every part of 
the cell seemed solid. The only visible exit being the door through 
which he’d entered. He continued with this checking procedure five more 
times before deciding that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

He sat back down in the chair for a while. After that he got back to his
feet and paced up and down and then again dejectedly went back to the 
chair. Frustration was now rapidly beginning to take him over. Not 
knowing what they were going to do, if anything, was eating him up 
inside. If they wanted to question him then why couldn't they just get 
on with it? If they wanted him disposed of and out of the way then he 
wished that someone would simply walk in and shoot him, put him out of 
his misery. 

Leaning back in the chair Bernie stared up at the ceiling. There was
total silence as he yawned and pushed his hands across his face and 
through his hair. As his hands cleared his eyes he noticed something. 
Was it just his own mind playing tricks with him or had one of the 
spotlights above just moved slightly? He scrutinised the spotlight. 
Yes, it moved again, almost nothing but it definitely moved. He climbed 
up on to the chair and reached for the light. It was hot and too bright 
to look at for more than a couple of seconds. Pulling his shirtsleeve 
over his hand he reached again and tried to unscrew the small bulb. It 
wouldn’t budge. He tried again but it was no use. The light was fixed 
firmly in place. Bernie got down from the chair and looked at the other 
spotlight. It looked identical. He moved the chair under that one and 
tried to unscrew it also. It wouldn’t budge either. He could only think 
that inside the bulbs, or behind them were small cameras watching him. 
Monitoring him. He thought about smashing the lights but then that 
would plunge him in to darkness and he didn’t much fancy the prospect 
of that. 

“What do you want?” Bernie shouted at the lights. “Come on.” 

The frustrated feeling of being totally helpless now turning to anger
and rage. Bernie didn’t now what to do. He banged his clenched hands on 
the metal walls. He kicked the door and screamed obscenities as loud as 
his tortured lungs could cope. Finally in desperation he picked up the 
chair from the centre of the room and charged at the door. The impact 
made a dull clunking noise but apart from that it had no effect at all. 
He walked back to the centre of the barren room, dropped to his knees 
and then dejectedly rested his head on the cold metal floor. 

Both spotlights suddenly turned off. What were they doing now? They were
either punishing him for discovering their little secret or basically 
trying to finish him off. It was so dark that Bernie couldn’t even see 
his own hand as he held it up in front of his eyes. He was scared. Were 
they going to do anything else? Where were the walls? As well as his 
concept of time they had now taken away his concept of space. Crouching 
on the floor he began to feel his way to the side of the room, relieved 
when he finally reached one of the walls. Carefully he moved along 
until he reached a corner. What should he do? He had nowhere to go, he 
knew that the only way out of this damn place was through the door and 
that was firmly locked. Sitting in the corner of the room Bernie pulled 
his knees up and wrapped his arms around himself. He felt very alone. 
He was alone and frightened. 

* 

“Well?” said Cane, resolutely facing Jane as she stared aghast at the
babies. 

“When?” she said in a meek voice. 

Cane walked around and stood behind her, “If by when, you mean when were
they born, then the answer to you're question is 6 hours ago. It seems 
that your arrival was timed to perfection. I wouldn’t have wanted you 
to have missed seeing them for the world.” 

Taunting arrogance floated with ease through every word and sentence
that came forth from Canes vile mouth. 

“How much do they weigh?” asked Jane. 

Cane looked at an L.E.D. display by the nearest incubator, “Well, this
one,” he peered at the figures, “nearly twenty pound.” he noticed the 
look of surprise on Jane’s face, “when it was born,” he continued as he 
picked up a flip chart, “it weighed according to these records, just 
over 8 pounds.” 

Jane turned to Cane, her eyes wide, “But that’s a weight increase of
150%, 25% per hour,” she began making quick calculations in her head, 
“Six months ago the weight increase rate was barely 7% per hour.” 

“Yes, isn’t it amazing how science moves on in such leaps and bounds
when people really apply themselves effectively.” Cane was near to 
bursting as he oozed smugness, “And in case you're wondering Jane, we 
have finally finished the project that you yourself was working on when 
you decided to go walkabout. 

“We now have the capability to slow down or restart the rate of growth
anytime that we please. When the clone reaches adulthood we simply take 
away its enhanced growth hormone and replace it with one that runs at 
the same rate as you or I. Or alternatively we can simply stop the 
clone from growing altogether.” 

Jane looked at him in disbelief, “Are you telling me that you can make
them...,” she wasn’t sure what she was saying, “immortal.” 

“Not strictly speaking,” Cane said as he put his hand in to the
incubator by which he stood and smiled at Jane as the babies’ tiny hand 
gripped his finger, “but we can slow down the growth rate to virtually 
zero at any time, which means that we can slow down the aging process 
to a snails pace.” 

“And would this be a project budgeted by the Government or would the
private investors be having a hand in this one.” 

“Of course, initially you know where our prioritises lay and you can see
the obvious points of interest as far as the Government would be 
concerned. But also the monetary revenue has to be considered from 
private investment.” Cane took his hand from the incubator. “You see 
Jane,” he paused, “I don’t see the future of Parkby Life Sciences being 
dependent solely on human cloning. Since 1995 revenue growth in Biotech 
Industries globally has increased at a rate of 11% per year on average. 
In the past couple of years the figures for Parkby Life Sciences have 
shown significant signs of increasing that percentage growth further. 
Private investment on a larger scale is the future. ” 

He strolled over to another incubator, smiled at the occupant and then
turned back to look at Jane, “You probably never realised or knew Jane, 
that in the year 2001 private investors ploughed over ten million 
pounds in to companies such as ourselves. Last year the figure was over 
two hundred million.” he stopped to let Jane think for a second about 
what he had just said, “That age old saying, ‘the customer is always 
right’, it’s true you know. The pressure is on ever more than before to 
deliver greater returns with fewer risks. 

“Not only do we have to have a wider variety of established products but
a broader steady flow of new marketable items. Marketable to the right 
sector that is”, he gave Jane a wink, she knew what he meant, “If they 
know that we can make it, then they want it, there’s no end to what we 
can achieve given time. If someone is giving you money then you have to 
give him or her back what makes him or her happy. These people want to 
be perfect and it’s our job to make sure that they are. If they’ve got 
cancer, we’ll cure it, arthritis, no problem, and diabetes, its gone 
before they even know it. We can even test new drugs and manufactured 
stem cell implants on these people and they’ll be more than happy to be 
guinea pigs. As you know Jane, we have our biomedical treasure trove in 
‘chromosome 20’”, Cane looked for a response, Jane nodded, she knew 
what he was talking about, “one of the largest chromosome carrier of 
genes which lets us map responses to drugs and predict diseases.” he 
paused and took a deep satisfied breath, “But that’s the future and in 
the mean time we have to satisfy both parties. 

“As I said, the project, which you left unfinished, has been completed
and that’s one of the areas that we have to concentrate our resources 
on now. We have to spend more on the research in to the growth hormones 
that we've already developed. Eventually we’ll be able to replace 
growth hormones in anybody of any age. Reverse the aging process, speed 
it up, do anything that they want. If someone so desired then we can 
make it possible for them to spend the rest of their lives with the 
appearance of a twenty five year old.” 

“So,” Jane interjected with a tone of bitter sarcasm, “let me get this
right. In basic terminology, you really are playing God.” 

Cane laughed, “It’s a role that I think I play rather well, don’t you?” 

Jane didn’t answer. 

“Let’s proceed with the rest of the tour. There’s so much more to show
you.” Cane took Jane by the arm and escorted her to another door on the 
far side of the room. Yet again he conducted the same admission 
procedure as with the other doors. 

They passed through a small containment chamber and then into another
laboratory room. 

The lab was bigger than the last and quite dark. The room was lit by a
minimum of fluorescent tube lighting. This room was perfectly circular 
in shape. There were no windows and just one other door directly 
opposite. Around the circumference of the room against the walls were a 
number of cocoon–like glass chambers. Soft blue neon light emanated 
from inside the cocoons though not quite strong enough to cast any 
assertions as to their contents. 

“As I said Jane, your work was incomplete when you left. The cloning
process was still full of pitfalls and the number of embryos that 
failed to reached the full gestation period was unacceptable.” Cane was 
so coldly clinical in his explanation. “But now that is not a problem 
that we have to face any longer.” 

Turning behind himself Cane flicked a switch on the wall. Suddenly the
room was filled with bright light. Jane looked around. The cocoons, in 
the light, now looked more like upright glass coffins as Jane saw that 
each housed a human form floating in a watery-like liquid. Tubes were 
attached to each cocoon occupant at various points of the body and an 
oxygen mask covered their nose and mouth. She looked at each cocoon 
chamber around the room one by one. 

Jane raced over to the nearest chamber and peered inside. Her face was
almost touching the glass. The face that looked back at her, although 
the eyes were closed, was her own. Startled Jane stepped back, turned 
to Cane and then jumped to the next chamber. It was the same. The next, 
the same. Jane frantically went from each chamber to the next until 
she’d returned to her starting point. In all there were twenty-five 
cocoon chambers. 

Jane fell to her knees and cupped her head in her hands as she cried,
“Why Cane why?” 

“Because I can.” was his simple answer. 

Taking her arm Cane pulled Jane back up to her feet. She was shocked at
what she was experiencing. Taking deep breaths she tried to compose 
herself. 

“As you see Jane, losing the first clone was no real heart ache.” Cane
smiled, he was in his element. 

Jane knew that what she had around her was something that she’d played a
part in developing. She supposed that she shouldn’t really be so upset 
as there was no stopping this eventuality whether she’d stayed at 
Parkby or not. It wasn’t as if she had some divine scientific knowledge 
gifted to her alone. The projects had continued and developed without 
her and she knew that this was, as Cane had already pointed out, ‘just 
the beginning’. 

Cane stepped in to the centre of the round room. “Animal rights
activists are always asking us to do less testing on animals. Soon we 
can oblige and start testing on human clones that will be manufactured 
for that specific purpose.” 

“Are there any more rooms like this?” asked Jane. 

“Oh yes, but yet to be occupied. Very soon we should have a full
capacity of 100 chambers. But it’s not only of the homosapien variety 
that we’re working with here.” 

“I know,” said Jane, her voice despondent, “the fish and the cows,
you’ve told me already.” 

“That’s nothing,” Cane waved his hand to disregard what he’d already
revealed to Jane as unimportant. “Let me show you.” 

Jane was happy to leave this particular room behind as she followed Cane
out through the opposite door and in to a short corridor. The corridor 
that they stepped in to was quite narrow compared to all the others in 
the complex and was barely wide enough to walk two abreast. At the end 
of the corridor was a set of stairs leading down. At the bottom of the 
stairs, which went down what Jane thought to be about two floors, she 
was surprised to be met by a single armed guard. The guard was dressed 
in the black military style Parkby security uniform and held a semi 
automatic machine gun firmly across his chest. Behind the armed man was 
a sturdy metal door with the same hand scanning security pad on the 
wall next to it as was in many other parts of Parkby. 

Recognising Cane immediately the guard stepped aside as best he could in
the cramped space. Cane held his open palm to the wall pad and the door 
hissed aside. 

After they’d both stepped through, the door behind quickly slid back in
to place with a swish. They found themselves now in an extremely large 
room. The room was cloaked in red light. The ceiling was high, about 
forty feet above. This room, like the cocoon chamber room, was circular 
and a good 100 feet in radius. In the centre of the room was a large 
glass dome about thirty feet high and 50 feet in radius. Around the 
room were many people in white lab coats. Everyone seemed very busy 
either moving about the room or sat at desks or workstations typing in 
to computer consoles. Jane tried to see but couldn’t make out what was 
actually inside the dome as it was in total darkness. 

“Ah Doctor Cane,” a pony tailed, spectacled, middle aged man waved from
the other side of the dome and began to make his way over to where Cane 
and Jane stood. 

“Doctor Bertrumd,” Cane shook hands with the man when he reached them,
“how are things going?” 

“Very well Doctor Cane, very well indeed. The little fellow is asleep
right now though.” Doctor Bertrumd had heavy baggage under his eyes and 
looked as though he hadn’t shaved in a few days also. 

Jane wondered whom he was referring to when he said ‘the little fellow’.


Cane turned to Jane, “Doctor Bertrumd, let me introduce you to Doctor
Jane Griswell. I don’t believe you’ve met before.” 

Doctor Bertrumd held out his hand to Jane, “Pleased to meet you Doctor
Griswell.” Jane without thinking shook the Doctor’s hand. It was clammy 
and quite disgusting to the touch. His voice was nervy and quite 
excited. 

“Would it be possible to see him, just for a second.” Cane grinned at
Doctor Bertrumd. 

“Of course, although the lights are off once he’s out it doesn’t really
make any difference. He won’t wake up for a good while yet.” 

“Good, good,” said Cane rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go then.” 

“Well if you’ll both just follow me.” Doctor Bertrumd led them over to
the glass dome in the centre of the room. “Won’t be a second” 

From his lab coat pocket the Doctor pulled a small remote control,
looked at it for a second and then whilst pointing it in the direction 
of the dome he pressed a button. Immediately the inside of the dome was 
lit with the same red light that filled the rest of the large room. 

Jane peered through the glass of the dome. Inside it looked like some
sort of animal pen. Scattered over the floor was straw and in places 
were piles of what Jane thought was large animal droppings. 

“There he is, over there.” Doctor Bertrumd pointed to the far side of
the dome. 

Jane looked, Cane too with hands against the glass squinted his eyes to
see. About twenty feet away from where they stood something moved under 
a large pile of straw. 

“Is he waking up?” asked Cane to Doctor Bertrumd. 

“No, just shifting in his sleep.” 

As the thing then moved a little more the straw that had been
camouflaging it fell to the ground and Jane was able to see exactly 
what it was that was housed in the dome. 

She jumped back startled, “Jesus Christ Cane!” 

Cane laughed. “Not exactly but with the samples of the Turin Shroud that
I’m trying to get my hands on that is a future project.” Cane turned to 
face Jane. “My dear Jane, you are one of the privileged few to be 
looking at the first ever cloned Woolly Mammoth.” 

“So you see Jane,” said Cane as they walked around the glass dome that
incarcerated the young mammoth, “there are many different kinds of 
achievements being realised here at Parkby Life Sciences.” 

After giving them a brief speech about the height, weight, health and
age of the mammoth, explaining that it was just three months old and 
doing extremely well, Dr. Bertrumd had left them to go about his 
business. He’d left the remote control for the lights inside the dome 
with Cane. 

Once she’d overcome her initial shock Jane had stepped back up to the
glass and looked on in amazement at the animal. Although she couldn’t 
see very well, as the young mammoth was sleeping and half covered with 
straw, she was convinced of its authenticity to a degree. She new that 
Parkby wouldn’t waste money on anything except the genuine article. The 
implications though of what this could in the future lead to terrified 
her with thoughts of science fiction gone wrong. 

“Beautiful isn’t she,” said Cane, “It took a lot of hard work to finally
get to this stage and I’m not talking about the actual cloning.” 

Jane gave him a quizzical look. 

“Everyone knows that the Japanese had been hoping to clone a mammoth
since the late 1990’s. In fact we’d been helping them with some 
financing on their expeditions to the Siberian tundra where they were 
digging up frozen mammoth carcasses. They were looking for frozen sperm 
that they then intended to use to fertilize an elephant oocyte. If that 
failed then they’d simply hope of recovering a full strand of DNA from 
which they could work with. 

“What wasn’t reported in the press was that last year they did discover
a carcass that was so fresh it could almost have died just a few 
minutes prior to its unearthing. From this carcass frozen sperm was 
recovered and work began on the actual cloning process. That’s when 
things started to sour considerably.” 

Jane wasn’t surprised at this last comment. 

Cane continued, “Bearing in mind the amount of money that we’d pumped in
to this project we tried to negotiate the mammoth bearing cloned in our 
laboratories. Of course the Japanese were having none of this. Having 
taken our cash, now that they had what they wanted they gave us the 
cold shoulder. They ‘d already decided that they would use the sperm 
and elephant oocyte to clone the mammoth and have a huge exhibition 
celebration in Tokyo. We were unceremoniously told that our services 
were no longer required.” 

Jane could quite easily imagine how furious Cane would have been at
this. 

“I mean Jane, how dare they be so contemptible. The utter gall goes
beyond belief. Anyway, we already had Dr. Bertrumd over there. We’d 
sent him over quite some time ago to advise the Japanese professors on 
cloning procedures. When he returned to Parkby he brought back with him 
a sample of the mammoth sperm; unbeknownst to the Japanese of course,” 
Cane chuckled, “ My sources tell me that the Japs have still to have 
any success and yet here we are just 7 months after Dr. Bertrumd 
returned with his ‘Holy Grail’ looking at the first woolly mammoth to 
walk the earth in about 20,000 years. Marvellous isn’t it?” 

Cane stood, beaming pleasurably. Jane was silent for a second, in
thought before she asked Cane a question. 

“So,” she said, “why have you shown all of this to me. Why are you
revealing what I never knew in all the time I was actually working 
here?” 

Cane looked down at Jane, “Very simply to show you quite clearly how
expendable your are Jane. One person cannot stop natural progress.” 

“I’d hardly call it natural.” 

Cane laughed at Jane’s sarcasm. 

“Jane, Jane, Jane,” he said as he looked up at the roof of the room they
presently stood in before turning back to her, “you just don’t get it 
do you.” 

Suddenly, behind them the door of the room opened and through it walked
a small man wearing a lab coat and mask like everyone else. 

“Dr. Cane,” the small man said in a quiet un-disturbing voice. 

Johnathon Cane turned to see whom it was that had called his name. 

“Dr. Cane.” the small man repeated, a little louder this time as he
walked over. 

“Yes?”said Cane. 

The small man came forward. “I’m afraid that we have a problem that
requires your immediate attention.” 

Cane looked peeved and irritated, “What kind of problem?” 

“Well,” the small man seemed afraid to tell him. 

“Out with it man, what’s wrong?” Canes irritation grew. 

The small man looked to Jane, Cane realised what he was getting at,
“Don’t worry about her just tell me what the problem is.” he said 
abruptly. 

“It’s regarding one of the detainees,” the small man finally said, “the
other woman.” 

“So? The other woman, what’s wrong with the other woman.” 

“Well, her name is Momo Templeton.” the small man stepped back and in a
peculiar sort of way seemed to shrink. 

“Her name is Momo Templeton.” repeated Cane, his voice showed obvious
confusion in reply to the small mans statement, “What is the problem!” 

The small man stepped back further, took a deep breath and then said,
“She is the daughter of Sir Reginald Templeton, the British Ambassador 
to Japan and also a personal friend of the Prime Minister.” 

Cane didn’t speak. 

10 

Bernie thought he heard something. He tried to retreat further back into
the corner of the room but there was nowhere to go. He was nervous, 
cold and totally disorientated. It had been a long time since the 
lights had gone out and his world had been plunged in to darkness. He’d 
spent that time sat in the same corner of the room, waiting. Waiting 
for something, anything, to happen. 

As he listened he heard another noise. He wasn’t sure but it sounded
like soft cautious footsteps. The exact location though of these 
footsteps defeated him. Bernie’s eyes darted wildly about but in the 
complete pitch blackness all around there was not a thing or point on 
which to focus. With no answer coming by way of his eyesight Bernie 
concentrated hard with his sense of hearing. He almost physically 
stretched the inner muscles of his ear in an attempt to find out 
whether or not he had heard something or somebody else here with him in 
this dank and dark containment room. Yes, there it was again, he could 
definitely hear footsteps. He felt certain that it wasn’t his 
imagination. This time it was louder, and coming directly towards him. 
Yet still there was no visual proof to authenticate what he had heard 
and this fact alone cast doubt on his very own sense of reality. Bernie 
hadn’t slept for a long time. How long he didn’t know. Now the absence 
of rest and dreams were beginning to gnaw great chunks from his sense 
of what was real and what wasn’t. But the footsteps, he couldn’t have 
been deluding himself. The sounds seemed so genuine. There it was 
again, and closer still. There was definitely somebody there. 

“Hello?” he said at last, “Is anybody there,” Bernie’s voice sounded
edgy and somewhat vulnerable. 

The footsteps stopped. Bernie heard a different sound. It could have
been the door he thought. But surely there would have been light from 
the corridor outside as someone entered. Maybe there was another 
entrance to the room after all apart from the door through which he’d 
entered earlier. 

“Who’s there?” he asked, a certain measure of panic creeping in to his
voice. 

Suddenly a bright light flashed around the room before pinpointing
Bernie’s location in the corner and coming to rest upon him where he 
crouched. The light was blinding and Bernie, after being in the 
darkness for so long, had to quickly cover his eyes with both hands to 
avoid the painful glare. He could hear the sound of footsteps again. 
Looking through his fingers with squinted eyes he could see that the 
light was coming from a torch. The torch it seemed, although he 
couldn’t be certain as spots were dancing in front of his eyes now and 
playing optical games as he tried to accustom himself to the light, was 
being held by one of three people whom were now walking towards him. 

Before he knew what was happening Bernie was grabbed by both arms and
held firmly in his crouched position. His hands were pulled down from 
his face and his arms held tightly to his side. He gasped for breath. 
He was scared. What were they doing to him? What did they want? He 
tried to shake them off but they were too strong for him. 

From behind the third man, who was holding the torch, stepped a fourth.
He was dressed in a white lab coat and in his hand he held a small 
metal surgical tray. On the tray Bernie could see a hypodermic needle. 
Was he dreaming? This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened to Bernie 
Torme he told himself in a vain attempt to wake himself up from this 
terrible nightmare. He half expected to jump up from his bed any 
second, panting and soaked in sweat. Was this whole escapade just a 
terrible dream, a nightmare? Unfortunately for Bernie it wasn’t, this 
was for real. He tried to struggle again but the grip of the two men 
was too secure for him to have any chance of breaking free. 

The fourth man, now holding the needle in his right hand after laying
the surgical tray to one side on the floor, came closer. He knelt down 
in front of Bernie and looked straight in to his eyes. For what seemed 
like a good ten seconds he just stared at Bernie without so much as 
blinking. He was, Bernie thought, quite a weaselled looking person, 
small pinhole eyes behind large glasses, his nose long and narrow, his 
teeth bucked and stained. Not a nice picture at all to have put before 
you. 

Bernie’s shirtsleeve was then promptly pulled up to the shoulder. The
sharp point of the needle broke through the surface of his skin on the 
upper part of his left arm just below the shoulder. In fright he felt 
his chest tighten and his breathing became short and sharp. Again the 
same questions came to his mind. What were they doing to him? What did 
they want from him? These were questions that Bernie didn’t have time 
to ponder on as the next thing he knew the light of the torch had 
disappeared and as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier he was again 
plunged back in to total darkness. 

* 

Cane was furious. If it were physically possible for someone to actually
explode of their own accord then he would have, right there and then on 
the spot. His fists were clenched so tightly that his untrimmed nails 
were digging painfully in to his palm, but he didn’t feel the slightest 
thing. His breathing was heavy and strained through grinding teeth. The 
sound that rose from deep down in his lungs could almost be described 
as a distant low thunderous rumble. His face had turned a deep red and 
Jane could see his temples pulsating at a frightening speed. The veins 
of his neck protruded as the blood rushed to his head and he swayed a 
little, taking a step forward to stop him from staggering off balance. 

The small man that had delivered the news about Momo’s identity to Cane
had quickly retreated from the room and gone in to hiding. Cane had 
shouted after him to send the Head of Security to him but whether the 
man had heard the command before he disappeared awaited to be seen. In 
the mean time Cane was struggling to calm himself. He had to think of a 
rationale strategy to get out of this new problem. 

At first Jane had been quite pleased to see the smile wiped from Canes
face but she soon realised the cruel consequences that it could pose 
for Momo’s safety. She herself had never thought about Momo’s father 
playing any form of pro or con when all this had begun. The idea had 
just never crossed her mind. 

Would Cane, she wondered, decide that it was better to have Momo out of
the picture due to her high profile connections? Or would her 
connections get them out of this? Maybe he’d simply apologise to her 
saying that there had been a huge mistake and all three were free to 
go? No. She couldn’t quite see that happening. There was no way that 
Cane was going to let three people walk free with all his secrets. 
Connections or no connections this spelt trouble for Jane, Momo and 
Bernie. Would Cane even consult the Prime Minister on this or would he 
just make his own decisions and add another atrocity to his 
ever-growing stockpile? 

Another notion then came to Jane. As Reginald Templeton, whom she knew
Cane had met on occasions at certain functions over the past couple of 
years, was such a close friend of the Prime Minister then maybe he 
already knew a little about this secret Government Project. Although it 
seemed unbelievable to even think it. Being a close friend of Momo she 
had come to know her family well and saw Momo’s father as being a very 
upstanding and ethical man. She couldn’t totally disregard the idea 
that he was knowledgeable of what was going on here though. 

A strange thing then happened. Totally unexpected Jane watched as Cane’s
look of disdain and anger changed completely. It was as if he was going 
through a metamorphosis right there in front of her. His grimaced and 
taught facial muscles relaxed and a sort of smile, if it could be 
described in such a way, emerged from one side of his mouth and 
gradually spread until he was beaming like a child at Christmas that 
had received all the gifts he’d ever wished for. He turned and looked 
at Jane. Cane was now chuckling away to himself. Jane was frightened. 
What did he have in mind? Here was a man totally unstable in mental 
state, as far as she was concerned, running one of the biggest 
scientific operations in the world and it seemed some new dimension of 
his unstable mind had now come to him in a flash of inspiration. 
Whatever it was that had just given him his pleasurable sensation, 
thought Jane, as that was how he looked, a man alive and reinvigorated 
with energy, it certainly was not divine words of wisdom from the 
heavens above. 

Cane faced Jane, his chuckle had dyed down and was now replaced with an
irritating smirk tightly wrapped in a thick air of arrogance. 

“I’m so glad that your back with us Jane,” he said, “and your friends,”
he definitely had some kind of plan as to how he was going to deal with 
them. Unfortunately the tone of voice and look on his face made Jane 
very very afraid. 

* 

Bernie awoke to the sweet, sickly smell of antiseptic. He rubbed his
tongue across his parched lips. He had a terrible thirst and a strange 
unfamiliar taste in his mouth. He opened his eyes but the view was 
blurred and he was unable to make out exactly where he was and what was 
going on around him. For some reason he also felt quite drained and 
tired. Washed out he thought, that would be a good analogy for his 
present state of disrepair. 

At least there was light, which was something. He tried to move but
found that he was laying flat on his back and seemed to be held tightly 
in place somehow. He was unable to move a muscle. Saving his energy he 
stopped struggling and decided to try and get his vision focussed first 
of all. He blinked a number of times, held his eyes open wide and then 
closed them again for a few seconds. He did this for a few minutes 
until he found that his sight was back to normal and he could see 
clearly again. 

Lifting his head slowly, for it was the only part of his body that he
seemed able to move freely, he looked around to take in his 
surroundings. He was laying on what seemed like an operating table. The 
table was situated in the centre of the room. Synthetic strapping held 
him down firmly by his arms, wrists, waist and ankles. Another thicker 
synthetic strap ran over his chest and under the table. His clothes had 
been removed and he was now wearing a hospital gown, which tied up from 
the back. He wasn’t sure whether he felt better being here or back in 
the darkness of his cell. This current location didn’t particularly 
fill him with a great feeling of optimism. 

The room itself was about thirty feet square, very white and smelt how
Bernie could only describe as being meticulously clean. There were 
shelves on two of the walls but holding very little, just a few files 
and empty specimen jars. The essential items of equipment that you’d 
expect to find in an operating theatre such as a table of tools, 
scalpels and the like, oscilloscope and breathing apparatus, were 
missing. It seemed deserted, though not old, as if it had never been 
used for the purpose it was built. Maybe it hadn’t, but then what was 
the purpose of this room? 

Bernie wondered if he was still in the same building or had he been
taken from Parkby after going under the influence of whatever it was 
that they’d injected him with. He didn’t even know how long he’d been 
out. It could have been hours or even days. Turning his head slightly 
he rubbed his chin on his shoulder to check the growth of facial hair. 
It was quite thick so he surmised that it definitely was days. 

The opposite wall facing him held large double doors with a large, round
frosted window in the centre. To his left was a long clear rectangular 
window. Beyond the window looked to be a smaller room but it was unlit, 
probably an observation point for whatever was to take place within 
here he presumed. So yet again, the question of what was to happen in 
this room came back to him. 

Realising his unequivocal helplessness he let his head fall back to the
padded table on which he lay and let out a heavy sigh. Yesterday, or 
sometime in the past few days as he couldn’t be certain when exactly it 
was, he’d sat in a bar drinking. Now here he was a prisoner, of whom he 
didn’t know and for what reason he couldn’t say. If only he knew what 
had happened to Momo and Jane, he thought, at least he’d feel better if 
he knew that they were both safe and well. Although with the current 
situation and the events that had befallen both him and them he 
couldn’t likely take a guess at any length that Jane and Momo would be 
safe right now. 

With thoughts of surgical torture and the possible dire fate of Momo and
Jane beginning to sweep over him Bernie tried again in vain with all 
his strength to break free from the bindings holding him to the table. 
It was useless. The only thing he could do now was to wait once more 
for the next episode of this terrible drama to unfold. 

11 

“Ah, Jane. Good to see that you’re awake,” said Cane, “I was beginning
to get a little worried.” He waved his hand in the direction of a 
white-coated man to his left, “Dr. Humphrey’s had expected you to be 
with us a couple of hours ago.” 

Jane tried to speak but the dryness of her palate and the thin layer of
phlegm that coated her tongue made it difficult to utter a single word. 


Dr. Humphreys was a man in his mid fifties with grey hair and a wisened
but nervous look upon his face. Jane knew Doctor Peter Humphreys very 
well. Sheepishly Humphreys stepped forward with a glass of iced water. 
Jane took it without hesitation from his outstretched hand and drained 
the contents in a second, gasping for breath afterwards. Closing her 
eyes and putting her head back she took a deep breath and let her lungs 
fill to capacity before exhaling. 

She reopened her eyes and, putting her hand over her mouth, she coughed
to clear her throat. She was sat up in a bed. What the hell was going 
on here? She had no recollection of events that had brought her to be 
her here. The last thing that she could remember was Cane’s tantrum 
turning to joviality after hearing of Momo’s family connections. 

She tried to get up but found she had no feeling in her legs. She didn’t
really know if she was moving them or not. Looking down she found that 
she wasn’t and that her legs stayed firmly routed in place under the 
clean white sheets. 

“Sorry Jane, but I had to take precautions”, said Cane with his familiar
cold aloofness, stepping forward his hands behind his back, “We've 
given you a shot of succinylcholine, which as I’m sure you know is a 
muscle relaxant. So for the time being you're going nowhere.” 

“And while I’m going nowhere” asked Jane, “What do you intend doing to
me?” 

“Oh, nothing at all Jane,” Cane smirked, “We've already done what we
needed to do whilst you were sleeping.” 

Jane’s eyes opened wide as a number of possibilities flashed through her
mind. She wouldn’t put a single thing past Cane. She tried again to 
move but it was impossible. 

“You bastard Cane,” her scream full of hateful scorn as she banged her
arms on the bed in frustration. “What have you done to me?” A tear 
welled up in the corner of her eye and she tried desperately to keep it 
there out of sight of Cane. 

Humphreys took a step back. Cane laughed vigorously, his sadistic aura
almost visibly glowing around his entire body as he took great pleasure 
in being witness to Jane’s downfall. She’d walked in here, he said to 
himself, brimming with self -confidence, well he was having none of it. 
He had plans and Jane Griswell would just have to step in to line. 

He walked over to the side of the bed and mockingly passed Jane a tissue
to wipe away the tear that had now left a glistening trail down her 
cheek. She turned her head away and stared blankly in to the far corner 
of the room. 

The room itself was very sterile, part of a new wing of the complex that
had only been completed a couple of months prior to Jane’s departure. 
At the time of its completion she hadn’t really paid it much attention. 
Along with other members of staff, including Humphreys, a very brief 
tour had been given and they were told that it was to be a ward 
accommodating the first volunteer patients for testing any number of 
ailment cures that they were developing within Parkby. Not just genetic 
cell replacements for worn out hearts that had served their time or 
livers that had drank too much but also other pharmaceutical drugs such 
as new synthetic super strong antibiotics and painkillers. By the time 
Jane had been fed these new lies of testing products for the waiting 
millions on the streets who were suffering everyday, she’d already made 
up her mind to leave and it was just a matter of planning, waiting for 
the right moment to slip out unnoticed. 

Jane wondered what exactly she would have been party to right now if
she’d rethought and decided to stay. It was hard enough as it was to 
live with the things that she’d already left her mark on let alone 
anything else. She felt sick deep down inside and it wasn’t because of 
the drugs that she’d been pumped with whilst lying here in bed. This 
whole building and everything and everyone associated with it made her 
want to physically vomit. 

Cane sat down on the bed next to her; though far enough away from her
reach should she suddenly lash out at him. 

“So?” said Jane slowly turning her head to meet Canes eyes, “Are you
going to tell me?” 

“Jane,” Cane looked serious, “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,”
if he’d been rigged up to a lie detector at that very moment the needle 
wouldn’t have moved a fraction. “As you know,” he paused, stood up and 
began to waltz around the room as he spoke, “In any scientific 
experiment, timing is the essence. Don’t you agree Dr. Humphreys.” He 
wasn’t asking the doctor, he was making a statement to which Humphreys 
replied with a nervous nod of the head. 

“And,” he continued, “Such was the case with this particular experiment.
I’m sure Jane, that you’re aware of the timing of your own bodily 
cycles. Well we kind of, how shall I put it,” he rubbed his chin, 
whether Cane was actually making an attempt at humour with this action 
wasn’t clear, “Basically we changed the timing. You have been asleep 
for just over,” he glanced down and checked his watch, “just over 90 
hours, or there abouts. Forty-eight hours ago a follicle-stimulating 
hormone was administered causing several ova to mature in your ovary. 
It’s a new hormone that we've just finished working on, and at the 
moment it seems to be working well because just over twenty four hours 
ago a second hormone, a luteinizing hormone was used to cause one of 
the ripe ovum to be released.” 

Cane stopped to take in Jane’s reaction. Her facial expressions
betraying no emotion whatsoever. She didn’t really know what to think. 
Of course she was horrified and an immense feeling of uncleanliness 
slowly began to creep upon her. She wondered if this was how victims of 
rape felt after having someone defile their body without consent. For 
that was exactly what Cane had done to her. They’d altered the timing 
of her menstrual cycle bringing on ovulation. Jane had often wondered 
how low Cane was prepared to stoop for the fulfilment of his own goals 
and now that question had been answered. She looked up at Cane trying 
to see if she could find the slightest ounce of remorse in his eyes for 
what he had authorised to be done to her body. As she’d expected, there 
was none. 

“I suppose you're wondering what happened next.” said Cane. 

Jane didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

Cane carried on regardless, “Well, let me tell you. As you know when a
clone is developed it can be manufactured to look exactly as we so 
desire. But the draw back is that as humans we develop skills by 
learning all through our lives, and if a cloned human reaches adulthood 
in a fraction of the time that it took you or I then what time do they 
have for learning. They wouldn’t even be able to tie there own 
shoelaces for Christ’s sake,” Cane laughed, he looked at Humphreys who 
laughed also, he was scared not to. “But now we can teach them 
everything that they need in life from the moment they are born. How do 
you do that Johnathon, I hear you say,” Cane raised his arms in the air 
and looked around as if addressing an auditorium, “We give them a 
memory, not just any old memory, but the best bits from lots of 
memories.” 

Jane finally spoke, her tone neutral, “You’ve lost me now completely, we
tried to do that for a long time and failed miserably at every 
attempt.” 

“Yes Jane, you failed because you were trying to build a memory with the
wrong components. You tried to use genetics, brain cells. But that’s 
not the way to do it. What single thing on this planet can hold more 
memories than anyone or thing?” 

Cane could see from Jane’s face that she’d clocked on, “Micro chips
Jane, microchips. Don’t ask me how they did it, my field as you know is 
psychology, but they did it. Whilst you were working on bio you forgot 
to use the technology. By attaching a chip full of memories to the 
brain, the anterior cingulate to be precise, thought patterns are 
passed through electrodes. The clone can be matured to adulthood 
knowing nothing and then a simple operation tells him or her everything 
he or she needs to know. Or everything that we want them to know. 

“This was actually developed by one of our teams working on a cure for
Alzheimers disease. You see, dementia is caused by a fragmentation of 
the anterior cingulate causing the sufferers extreme difficulty in 
recollecting old memories in any proper sense.” Cane clapped his hands 
in delight. “But getting back to you Jane.” His tone was so casual, as 
if in fact he was explaining to someone how to bake a cake. 

“After the ripe ovum was released and free of the fallopian tube,
another process of the cycle which we were able to speed up with the 
use of hormones, it was removed. From there we followed the process of 
which you are already familiar. The nucleus was removed, replaced with 
a full quota of adult genes and the embryo returned to continue 
growing.” 

Jane glared at Cane, “So I’m pregnant.” 

“Yes.” 

“And the adult genes which replaced the nucleus, where did they come
from?” 

Cane’s face was engulfed by a broad grin. “Me.” 

Jane’s reaction was instinctive, the glass, which Humphreys had passed
her only a few minutes earlier, was still in her hand. With accuracy 
and force she hurled it at Cane hitting him squarely on the forehead. 
Fortunately for him it didn’t smash but the force of the throw was 
enough for a large inch diameter lump to appear straight away as he 
staggered back, his head in his hands. 

Recovering, he started forward, a picture of rage, his arm raised to
strike, but just as quickly he stopped himself. It was the reaction 
that he’d expected from her and although due to his short temper he 
could quite easily have hit her there and then in retaliation and taken 
pleasure from it, he didn’t. 

Cane lowered his arm and put both hands in his jacket pockets. Behind
him Humphreys stood by the door almost cowering, anxious to leave the 
room. Jane sat in the bed, quietly sobbing through hands that covered 
her face. 

Cane turned to leave the room. With the door open he said to Humphreys,
“Give her another shot of succinylcholine. If she gives you any trouble 
just call security.” He then turned to Jane, “You know Jane, I would 
much more have preferred the more natural method of impregnation but I 
really am a busy man.” With that he was gone and the door closed shut 
after him. 

* 

Bernie raised his head from the padded table to see who it was that had
just entered the room. It looked, from his restricted view to be the 
same man that had injected him earlier in the stainless steel cell, 
although because of the darkness before he couldn’t be so sure. 

“Sorry to have kept you waiting Mr. Torme,” said the man calmly, as he
pushed along a small metal trolley toward Bernie in the centre of the 
room and stopping by the end of the table. 

Sorry to have kept you waiting? What did he mean by that, thought
Bernie. It wasn’t as if he was in a restaurant waiting to order a meal. 
Was this guy for real or just having a joke at Bernie’s expense. 

The man, uniformly dressed in a white lab coat, quickly and efficiently
put on a pair of thin plastic gloves. It was clearly a practice he’d 
done many times previous. Then in his right hand he took a small 
scalpel from the trolley. Holding Bernie’s left ankle with his left 
hand he then proceeded to scrape the scalpel blade across Bernie’s 
shin. It was a very delicate manoeuvre intended only to remove a fine 
layer of skin. This done he then let go of Bernie’s ankle and took a 
petri dish from the trolley. Holding it at eye level he carefully 
tapped the skin from the scalpel blade in to the dish, sealed it and 
put it back down on the trolley. 

Walking around the table and standing behind him he took hold, with
finger and thumb, of a single strand of Bernie’s hair and cut it with 
the scalpel. This too was placed in a separate petri dish, sealed 
tightly and placed next to the other containing the skin samples on the 
metal trolley. 

Turning to Bernie he then said, “Thank you,” took off the plastic gloves
and wheeled his trolley out of the room as routinely as he’d wheeled it 
in. 

Confused, would not go nearly far enough to explain how Bernie felt at
that very moment. 

* 

As Humphreys moved around the room Jane scrutinised his every action.
She watched as the needle pierced the thin seal on the top of the small 
brown bottle, which he’d taken from a shelf to her right. She watched 
him carefully fill the syringe with the bottles contents, and then 
apprehensively walk toward her. Not at any point did he look at Jane 
and this annoyed her. This was a man whom she’d worked with all her 
time at Parkby. For ten years they’d been colleagues, friends even. It 
seemed that those ten years now accounted for nothing. 

Humphreys stood at the end of the bed and reaching forward lifted the
sheet to reveal Jane’s left foot. Holding the ankle he got ready to 
inject in to her foot. 

“Etu Brutus,” said Jane. 

Humphreys stopped, “Uh?” he said. 

“Even you Brutus. Isn’t that what Julius Caesar said to his friend as he
stabbed him in the back.” 

“Jane.” said Humphreys, “This isn’t succinylcholine. This injection will
actually reverse the effects.” He proceeded to empty the syringe in to 
Jane’s foot. “It may take about ten minutes before you’ve got full use 
of your legs but you should get some feeling in about thirty seconds.” 

He still didn’t look up at Jane whilst he spoke and this bemused her
somewhat. She was relieved though to hear his voice and more relieved 
by what he was saying. It seemed that she’d been a tad quick in her 
judgement. She was sure on this occasion that Humphreys would not mind. 


“Peter.” said Jane. 

Still the head stayed down, avoiding eye contact as he walked away from
the bed and threw the empty syringe in to a wastebasket. 

“The room is under visual surveillance but not audio,” he finally said,
glancing up at the clock above the door at the same time. “It’s now 
11.14 a.m., at 11.30a.m. precisely the security guard watching the 
monitor to this room will be distracted by another old friend. You’ll 
have about two minutes to get out of bed and out the door. The code to 
the security lock is 5789, the corridor outside will be empty.” As he 
spoke he busied himself around the room for the camera, “Turn right out 
the door and go to the room at the far end of the corridor, just before 
the double doors. The security lock to that room is 5690. When you get 
there wait, if you have to wait a long time don’t worry. Whilst the 
guard is being distracted someone else will be putting the monitor 
image for this room on a loop. It’s an old trick but it’ll work, so 
unless the guard is unusually alert he won’t know that you’ve gone. The 
room at the end of the corridor has no surveillance cameras, it’s just 
a storage room.” Humphreys finished his imaginary duties and opened the 
door to leave. 

“Thank you Peter,” said Jane. 

Humphreys did not acknowledge her gratitude. He simply closed the door
behind him as he went. It seemed now to Jane that she hadn’t been 
forsaken after all. 

For the next sixteen minutes Jane stared at the clock above the door,
willing the hands to turn faster. Just as her old friend Doctor Peter 
Humphreys had said, she’d started to feel a tingling sensation in her 
ankles after just a few minutes. This soon spread all the way up to her 
thighs. She now felt confident that she could climb out of bed and get 
out of the room in no time at all. 

Eleven thirty finally came and Jane promptly threw aside the bed sheet.
Stiffly she swung her legs round and down to the floor. Her joints 
creaked as she lifted herself from the bed and uncomfortably staggered 
across the polished floor to the door. It was harder than she’d 
anticipated but after being fed with muscle relaxants for nearly four 
days she couldn’t realistically expect anymore. 

Not deterred by her lack of agility Jane finally reached the door. She
looked up at the clock. There was still a minute and a half before the 
surveillance monitor would go on to loop. She hoped that whoever was 
attempting to distract the guard was doing a good job. She typed the 
four-digit code that Humphreys had told her in to the keypad by the 
handle, 5789. A green light on the pad flashed twice and there was a 
barely audible click. Jane grasped the slim door handle, pulled it down 
and the door opened. 

Outside of the room was a corridor running left to right and was about
ten feet in width. Jane was standing roughly in the middle. The floor 
was carpeted and there was a distinct aroma of fresh paint. Light 
fittings ran all along the corridor but less than half actually had 
bulbs. The place had a feeling of still being under construction. It 
was quiet and deserted. 

Many other doors lined both walls of the corridor and she could also see
that both ends of the corridor finished with a set of double doors. 
Following Humphreys’s instructions Jane turned right and made her way 
towards the end of the corridor. 

Still struggling with her legs it seemed to take forever to reach the
storage room that Humphreys’s had told her to wait in. She’d looked 
around but saw no cameras in the corridor. She wondered where she 
actually was. She was well aware that there were so many areas of the 
Parkby site that she had never seen or entered before. 

Finally she reached the door to the storage room. She typed 5690 in to
the keypad and quickly entered. 

* 

Bernie heard the door of the room in which he was incarcerated open once
again. Raising his head slightly he saw that it was a different person 
to the joker who had entertained him about twenty minutes prior. He 
wore the same white regalia but his movements were very strange. 
Instead of slow and precise actions, this person nervously scuttled 
around the side of the room to a small cabinet on the wall. He opened 
the cabinet and pressed a number of digits on a keypad inside. As soon 
as he did so the synthetic bindings that held Bernie to the table were 
suddenly released. 

Although free from his bindings, Bernie was reluctant to move. It wasn’t
exactly what he’d been expecting to happen and his lack of enthusiasm 
for escape was down to a great feeling of genuine shock. 

The white-coated man closed the small cabinet and quickly came over to
Bernie, helping him up and off of the table. Bernie didn’t resist the 
help; neither did he ask what was going on. Maybe he wasn’t being 
helped? Maybe he was just being transferred to some other part of the 
complex. The man, seeing Bernie’s obvious bewilderment, quickly put his 
doubts to rest. 

“My name is Peter Humphreys, and I’m a friend of your sisters. Just do
as I say and you’ll be fine.” 

Bernie nodded, smiled thankfully and followed Humphreys out of the room.


12 

“It’s a straight forward plan,” said Humphreys to Bernie and Jane very
matter-of-factly. 

Bernie and Jane meanwhile, were redressing themselves out of the
hospital style gowns and back in to their own clothes, which Humphreys 
had brought with him. 

The room was just as he’d said, used for storage. A single fluorescent
tube did a poor job of lighting and above the door the perennial 
tick-tock of a cheap plastic walk clock accounted for the only sound 
bar the whispering voice of Peter Humphreys. Hemmed in and surrounded 
by sealed metallic containers and cardboard boxes of all dimensions, 
stacked up almost to the ceiling, the three of them struggled to find a 
comfortable space to talk. It wasn’t a large room, probably about forty 
feet square but it seemed smaller due to the fact that virtually every 
inch of space had been utilised to squeeze in more and more boxes. 
Unlike the rest of the complex there was a stale musty smell lingering 
in the air and dust had settled on many of the containers. 

Keeping his voice to an almost inaudible murmur Humphreys explained the
situation. 

“Your friend, Momo, is being transferred to the other complex in about
half an hour from now,” he checked his watch, “I’ve been assigned to go 
with her. The usual job, keeping tabs on her pulse, blood pressure and 
all her vital signs. Its only about twenty minutes from here by road 
and the procedure requires that I take two assistants in case of any 
emergency. It’s a Government stipulated guideline,” He looked to Jane, 
“and that’s where you two come in.” He handed them both access security 
passes, about the size of a credit card, which he took from his lab 
coat pocket. “You probably won’t need these as you’ll be with me, but 
just in case. These can be scanned, as you’re well aware Jane, to give 
you access to almost any door in the complex. Just hold them up to the 
sensor pads by the side of the doors and they’ll read the strip on the 
back for authorization with no problems.” 

“What have they done to Momo?” asked Jane as she and Bernie both took
the passes. 

“I don’t know the full details, but basically it seems there were some
complications to what Cane initially had in mind due to her family 
connections.” 

“Yes, I know about that.” Jane interjected. “How exactly has that
effected the situation?” 

“Well, what it comes down to is that if she simply disappears then too
many difficult questions are going to be asked.” 

“What kind of questions?” asked Bernie. 

Humphrey looked at him, “Well, lets just say that if you, Bernie, went
missing then it’d just be another statistic, nothing more. No offence.” 


“And I’m already dead.” said Jane. “Unofficially, you could say.” 

“Precisely, so you get the picture.” 

Bernie nodded in recognition, he understood very well. He was quite
aware of his friend’s background and the implications it now concurred. 


“Do you know anything about why she’s being transferred?” asked Jane. 

“The obvious factor that springs to mind is that all your friends within
the company all work at this complex. The other site was only opened 
three months ago and its all-new staff. I’ve only been there myself a 
handful of times. I know for a fact that hormones were administered to 
her to bring on ovulation. That means that she’s almost certainly now 
carrying a fertile embryo. I’ll try and find out more if I can. What’s 
worrying though is that all the new tests with regards to memory 
implants have, up to now, taken place at the new complex. I think that 
Cane may have the idea of trying to change Momo’s recent memory. 

“I’d say also that Cane is scared of inside interference hampering his
plans,” Humphreys smiled for the first time, “but it’s a bit late for 
that now isn’t it.” A hint of the Humphreys that Jane had known in the 
past began to shine through the veil of fear that Cane had somehow 
thrown over him. 

“And what’s this place? The corridor looked half finished.” asked Jane. 

“This is going to be a sort of hospital come hotel. Well, that’s the
kind of feeling it’s supposed to have when it’s finished apparently. 
Basically private investors and V.I.P.’s will be able to come here for 
treatment. I think Cane brought you here to keep you away from the rest 
of the complex.” 

He made to get to his feet from his crouched position. 

“Peter,” said Jane, “Can you do anything for me?” 

He knew what she meant and he felt for her. Not only had she been
interfered with and defiled without her prior knowledge or consent, but 
she’d then been informed that the embryo inside her body would grow to 
be an identical copy of the one man on this planet that he knew she 
detested without restraint. Cane knew how much Jane despised him. Her 
punishment in return was that she would carry a clone of the one thing 
she hated so passionately. To Cane it was just a childish game of 
revenge. To Jane it was the heaviest burden that she could ever carry. 

Humphreys laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, “I was coming to
that. Don’t worry, wheels have already been put in to motion shall we 
say. Although our planned destination by ambulance is the other 
complex, we won’t actually be going there.” 

“What about the driver?” asked Bernie. 

“Don’t you worry about the driver Bernie. I’ve got that in hand.” He
turned back to Jane, “And the last thing that I want also is another 
Johnathon Cane running amok on this planet. Once we’re out of the 
complex boundaries and on the road I’ll explain everything else. We 
don’t have the time to talk right now,” he smiled at her with a kind 
and reassuring aura. 

Humphreys was a good twenty years older than Jane and she had always
looked up to him respectfully as a sort of father figure. In the ten 
years that she’d known him she’d always felt able to talk to him if she 
had a problem, or just wanted cheering up. He was a role model to many 
of the younger staff members at Parkby and Jane was heartened to find 
that he was still, underneath it all, the same man that she’d learned 
to respect unconditionally in the time that she’d come to know him. His 
smiling eyes and soft features made him a man impossible to feel 
threatened by and his loyalty to friends and respect for life made him 
a valuable ally. 

“What about you?” said Jane to Humphreys, “This is really going to put
you in a sticky situation. Peter, you’re risking a lot by doing this.” 

“Jane,” he looked deep and honestly in to her eyes, “I have no intention
of ever coming back here once I get in to that ambulance. I’m doing 
what I should have done a long time ago. Standing by my beliefs. 
Scientific discoveries should never be about making money. People like 
Cane have poisoned science with their vile greed. Their only incentive 
is to succeed in their own private endeavours. 

“It makes me feel physically sick beyond belief when I think about
what’s going on here.” he paused and collected himself for a second. 
“It was Hannibal who said, ‘we will either find a way, or make one’. 
Well as far as I’m now concerned we found the way that God intended us 
to multiply and I have no intention of helping anyone make another way. 
I have already done enough damage to morality as it is.” 

Jane took his hand and with a single smile she told him it was okay now,
he was doing the right thing. 

“I have to go, I’ll be back soon. Whilst I’m gone put these on.” Out of
the bag in which he’d brought their clothes he pulled two white lab 
coats and two surgical masks and hairnets. “It’s not much of a disguise 
but the ambulance depot isn’t more than a few minutes walk from here so 
you should be fine. Whatever you do don’t leave this room until I come 
and get you.” 

With that he was gone and they could hear the locks sliding in to place
as Humphreys entered the security code for the door from outside the 
room. 

Jane stood up straight and stretched her legs, massaging the muscles
with her hands to get the blood circulating freely. After being laid 
out for so long it was going to take more than a few minutes to get rid 
of the stiffness that the succinylcholine had caused. 

“What happened?” asked Bernie, his face sickly pale from the shock of
being cooped up like an animal and psychologically tortured. 

Jane looked down at him. It was hard for her to talk about it. Inside
she still felt a strong uncleanliness. She remembered how her and David 
had talked of one day having children, but it wasn’t to be. Now here 
she was carrying a fertile, growing, dividing embryo that held the 
genetic structure of Johnathon Cane. The very thought of giving birth 
to this monster sent suicidal thoughts racing through her mind. She 
prayed to God that they’d get out of here safely and Peter would 
release her from this albatross that had been hung around her neck. 

She sat back down by Bernie and as best she could she explained what had
been done to her and probably to Momo too. He listened, letting her 
finish before saying a word of either question or comfort. He then 
simply told her not to worry, as soon enough it would be over. They’d 
be away. They had friends to help them get out of here now. Everything 
was going to be alright. 

* 

When Humphreys returned they donned their hairnets and surgical masks
before leaving the storage room. He told them that Momo was already in 
the ambulance and that they were ready to leave immediately. During the 
short walk to the ambulance bay they were under no circumstances to 
talk to or make eye contact with anyone that they should pass. If they 
were stopped for whatever reason then Humphreys would deal with it. 

Fortunately such occasion didn’t arise and within a couple of minutes
they’d walked from the storage room and through the double doors at the 
end of the corridor. The doors opened to another long sterile corridor, 
half way down which was a lift. 

“How come there’s no one about?” asked Bernie, his voice slightly
muffled as he spoke through the mask. 

Without looking back Humphreys said, “Because, although you probably
won’t have realised, it’s just turned 6a.m..” 

Bernie had lost all concept of time and hadn’t paid any attention either
to the clock on the wall of the storage room. 

From there they took the lift as far as it went, down to the basement.
The basement itself housed yet more storage facilities as well as the 
Ambulance Bay and a delivery depot. None of these surroundings were new 
to Jane and knowing how close they were to exiting the complex she was 
suddenly filled with a newfound confidence. 

Jane had visited this part of the complex on a few occasions and knew
that once out of here it would be a straight thirty second drive to the 
main gates and then out on to the open road and the motorway. Bernie 
however had taken a bit of a battering at ‘Hotel Parkby’ and his 
resilience levels were now near to exhaustion. He stared around, a 
blank look on his face. He was tired and disorientated. 

The Ambulance Bay was lit up brightly with large spotlights moulded in
to the high ceiling. Bernie wondered if they too housed small cameras. 
It was a large area, like a warehouse in some respects but a little 
more groomed. As everywhere else, the walls were perfectly white and 
the floors too here had been whitewashed and bleached. The smell of 
disinfectant was strong. 

Ahead of them stood a line of twenty ambulances, each in immaculate
turnout. Across the far wall, beyond the vehicles, stood the exit, a 
large metal shutter about thirty feet or so in length and about twenty 
feet high. Presently it was closed and by each end stood an armed 
security guard dressed in the same black military style uniform that 
all the guards in the complex wore. Their stern and intimidating 
appearance doing little to calm Bernie’s worries and fears. 

“Which one?” asked Jane to Peter. 

Humphreys pointed to the ambulance furthest to their right and they
walked towards it. 

“She’s been sedated.” Humphreys was talking about Momo, “I thought it
better that she sleep through this until we get a safe distance. 
Although at first glance she may look a little pale and unwell all of 
her vital signs are normal so there’s no need to worry.” 

“Did you find out what they’ve done to her?” 

“Yes, but I’ll explain once we get on the road, best not to speak now.” 

They reached the ambulance without hindrance and Humphreys opened the
back door. Inside lay Momo, a drip had been attached to her arm to stop 
her from dehydrating and pulled up to her shoulders was a thick 
blanket. With her eyes closed and her head turned to one side she 
looked quite peaceful and happy. 

“You two get in,” said Humphreys, “I’ve got to go to the office and sign
us out. It won’t take a second.” 

They climbed up in to the back of the ambulance without having to be
told twice and Humphreys closed the door shut behind them. Jane sat 
down beside Momo taking her hand in hers and whispering to her gently 
that soon they’d be safe. She knew that Momo wouldn’t be unable to hear 
her right now, but that didn’t matter, she just wanted to reassure her 
that everything was going to be fine very soon. If it wasn’t for Jane 
none of them would have been in this predicament and she felt an 
overwhelming feeling of guilt for what she had put them through. 

Bernie watched Humphreys from the window along the side of the ambulance
as he walked across the bay towards, and disappeared in to, a small 
office in the corner not far from the lift. After a couple of minutes 
he reappeared with another man by his side. As they reached the 
ambulance, the man, dressed in the same kind of military style uniform 
as the two guards who stood by the large bay exit, walked to the front 
and climbed in to the drivers cab. Humphreys opened the back door of 
the ambulance and jumped up to join Bernie, Jane and Momo. 

“Okay, we’re ready to go,” said Humphreys, a strained smile on his face
as he rubbed his hands together. Whether it was a sign of nervous 
tension or a feeling of excitement was impossible to distinguish. 

Bernie sat himself down and Jane continued her one-way conversation with
Momo. Humphreys pulled down the shutters to cover the windows on the 
side and also the back doors of the ambulance. He then pressed a button 
on a small remote paging device, which he had attached to his belt, 
indicating to the driver when they were ready. The vehicle then 
smoothly manoeuvred towards the bay exit. 

The engine of the ambulance quietly purred, this fleet was the first of
its kind. All the ambulances in Parkby were run on electric power and 
although it was a form of technology that had been around for some 
years in various stages of development these were the first 
commercially used electric fleet of ambulances. 

Humphreys turned to Jane, “This is another thing that Cane is pushing
for Parkby to get more involved in, alternative energy.” 

Jane looked quite surprised, “Why is he doing that?” 

“The same reason why Cane gets involved in anything. Private investors
and profit. I managed to have a look at a few memorandums relating to 
projects such as this. Now that the cloning and hormone process is 
moving on in directions that we could never have imagined he needs a 
cover to work under. He needs something to paint a nice picture of the 
company with. I’d say he’s probably found it. 

“Apparently he’s being interviewed later this month for ‘The Economist’
magazine about how economically and ecologically better electric power 
is. Announce to the world that your working to save the environment and 
everyone applauds. Just so long as you also make sure nothing comes out 
about the skeletons in the closet. He maybe an arrogant, conniving, 
ruthless and selfish man with no morals or ethics but I have to admit 
that Johnathon Cane is also one of the cleverest people that I’ve ever 
been unfortunate enough to know in my life.” 

13 

“Leverage.” said Johnathon Cane, “That’s all you need to succeed in
business. Leverage.” 

Sat opposite Cane, his audience was a bland looking man wearing a grey
unimpassioned suit and expressionless face. His posture was neutral and 
he listened politely without comment or gesture. 

“Yes,” Cane continued with an air of self-proclaimed righteousness, “If
you want someone to do something for you then you’ve got to know what 
motivates them. Find out what it is that makes them tick.” He leaned 
forward across the desk, a look of innocence creeping across his face 
to shadow his true desires, “and if that doesn’t work,” he paused, 
“then we look at what other avenues are available to us.” 

Cane reclined to his original position and laughed deviously, a clear
look of the devil hiding in the corner of his eyes. 

The nondescript man that Cane was talking to was Ed Burrows, Parkby’s
Director of Internal Security. Ed Burrows knew a secret or two about 
Cane and was well aware that he had all the leverage he required to get 
Cane to treat him with the due respect he commanded. He’d certainly 
learned a few tips from Johnathon Cane over the past few years whilst 
working for him, and luckily for Burrows, Cane was fully knowledgeable 
of the situation. 

In his position it was Burrows job to know exactly what was going on
concerning the more illegitimate side of Parkby Life Sciences, as it 
was also his job to make sure that all these goings on stayed secure 
within the boundaries of the complex. So, after it had been brought to 
Canes attention the relationship between Momo and a personal friend of 
the Prime Minister then his first port of call was Ed Burrows. 

Questions were asked and Burrows had delivered the answers in his usual
manner of efficiency. Cane had already an inkling of an idea to turn 
around this unfortunate situation and with a little help from his 
number one sidekick it wasn’t long before a whole plan of attack was 
formulated and put in to play. 

Basically it was all too clear that it wouldn’t go down very well at all
if the daughter of a British Foreign Diplomat disappeared without 
trace. Her disappearance would cause serious implications and it would 
also be very hard to cover any tracks that had been left along the way. 
After all, it’s not like Hapgood and Cholly had made their apprehension 
of Bernie, Momo and Jane inconspicuous. And that was another niggling 
point on Canes ever expanding list of discrepancies with the way in 
which that whole operation had been handled up to now. 

If it had been down to him, he thought, then the whole incident would
have been done and dusted a long time ago and it would never have come 
to this. There was no way that he would have had Jane Griswell running 
around for six months. But saying that, the general diligence of the 
Metropolitan Police and MI5 did also have its plus points. The very 
fact that it had taken so long to return Jane Griswell to the complex 
meant that Cane had good reason to press the Government to let him and 
Parkby Life Sciences have full control and responsibility for the 
security relating to ‘projects sensitive to the Governments public 
face’. Especially with a General Election coming up in six months. 

He’d been petitioning them for a long time now to let him put together a
‘special policing unit’ whose sole responsibility would cover any 
breach of The Official Secrets Act associated to Parkby Life Sciences. 
As he’d so eloquently presented, with the full backing of the Parkby 
Life Sciences Board of Directors, to the Home Secretary in his report, 
this would be a disciplined, crack unit with a sole interest in one 
area. Whereas in comparison to Canes envisioned plans, the general 
police force and secret service were falling well short of the 
standards required. This, he argued was due entirely to being as he put 
it, ‘stretched to the limit and unable to commit themselves fully to a 
particular issue at a particular time.’ Even though that particular 
issue would raise more than eyebrows if it were to be revealed to the 
general public and press, and come to that foreign Governments too. 
What the British Government were funding, in basic terms, defied all 
international law; even though at least three other Governments were 
working in association with them. 

No, if it was a duty instigated and run by Johnathon Cane then it would
be the smoothest running operation bar non. His security team that were 
already in residence at both this complex and the second site were 
performing excellently. The very fact that Jane Griswell had gone awol 
wasn’t there responsibility and Cane didn’t hold them accountable. But 
with the right resources and adequate funding then he would be able to 
monitor more intimately which members of the laboratory staff were not 
one hundred percent committed to their work. 

One of the most recent security projects that he and Burrows had been
working on was an emotion detecting and analysing close circuit camera 
system. It was a system that Cane had been eager to get online for some 
time now. Throughout the two complexes there were already surveillance 
monitors in just about every room and corridor keeping a close eye on 
the daily routines of each employee. By using the latest sensory 
technology Parkby was almost at a stage whereby they could monitor 
visually not only what their staff were doing physically but also what 
emotionally they were feeling. Cane believed that this system could 
have stopped the unfortunate incident that led to the break in by 
activists and the theft of at that time the only successful adult 
clone, Jane Griswell Mark II. 

This new monitoring system would be possible through the use of the most
fantastically receptive heat sensors which worked in a similar but much 
more advanced way as a simple lie detector. The sensors registered 
perspiration and nervousness as well as changes in body temperature and 
brain patterns. These brain patterns could then be analysed by a 
specialised team and delivered as a report on a daily basis to both 
Cane and Burrows. 

Johnathon Canes growing frustration with Parkby itself was that there
were a great many things he wanted to do but found he was unable to get 
the support that he required. Unfortunately the red tape and slowness 
of the board to act upon his ideas was beginning to stifle his 
creative, if creative be an apt description, mind. He was an ideas man 
after all, a protagonist, and that’s why they hired him. He had 
actually thought about taking his services elsewhere but as he knew 
full well, he was far too engrossed in the work that was being done 
here and to leave that behind, to Cane, would be the same almost as 
losing a limb. Plus just like any other member of the Parkby payroll he 
couldn’t just walk out of the door. 

Ed Burrows reached out with his right arm and picked up his cup of
coffee from Canes desk. He took a short sip and returned it to the 
small silver coaster that protected the very expensive dark wood from 
stains. His face was solemn; he never gave much away superficially. 
Cane was actually very intrigued to find out what the new emotion 
detectors, if and when they were finally put in to practice, would 
reveal about his friend Burrows. Probably what he already knew, that he 
was as devious a man as Cane himself; and that’s why Cane trusted him. 
They knew each other perfectly for what they were. 

“Can you trust Humphreys?” said Burrows, his voice as nondescript as his
facial expressions. 

“Humphreys is too scared to try anything stupid.” replied Cane. 

“But he was very close to Griswell.” Burrows reached forward to take a
second sip of coffee. “Sometimes it’s the quiet ones that pull out the 
surprises.” 

“Close or not, it won’t have any significance. Remember what I said
about leverage. I’ve got enough leverage on Dr. Humphreys to last him a 
lifetime. The guy’s eating out of my hand.” Cane sniggered confidently 
as he leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. 

“Still, he does seem to possess a high level of popularity among a lot
of people here.” 

“His popularity bears no relevance as to how he carries out the duties
with which he is entrusted. He’s a yes man, nothing more. He knows his 
neuroscience and that’s that. Humphrey will do exactly as I tell him.” 

Burrows wasn’t convinced, “All the same, with due respect, I think that
it would have been advisory to put some security on that ambulance.” 

Cane smiled as he sat up straight in his chair, “I have.” 

Burrows cast him a questioning glance. 

“You see Ed, that ambulance is being tracked and monitored each step of
the way from here to its final destination. If it veers from its 
designated route then we’ll be on it like a shot.” Cane could see that 
Burrows didn’t look entirely convinced and was probably a little peeved 
that security measured had been dealt with without his involvement. 
“Let me show you.” He entered a three-digit number in to the telephone 
pad on his desk and in a second a voice came through the speaker. 

“Dr. Cane?” 

“Could you tell me if Dr. Humphreys has signed out yet?” 

There was a short pause and then, “Dr. Humphreys signed out just over
five minutes ago sir.” 

“And the current location of the ambulance?” 

“At this very point he has travelled a little more than two miles from
Complex A and should be at Complex B in approximately fifteen minutes.” 


“Thank you,” the speakerphone clicked off and Cane turned back to
Burrows. “Satisfied?” Burrows didn’t answer he just took another sip of 
coffee. “You know your problem Ed,” Cane continued, “you always spend 
too much time looking for the worst case scenario and not enough at the 
positive aspects. You ought to try a bit of optimism sometime.” 

Burrows put the coffee cup back on the desk. “I like to be ready when
things don’t go to plan. It’s my job to have everything covered.” 

“Well Ed, I can’t argue with you on that. I guess I can rest easy at
night knowing that I’ve got the right man on the job.” 

Uncharacteristically in Canes presence, Ed Burrows smiled. 

14 

Momo was sleeping peacefully. Her face a picture of contentment, almost
childlike in serenity. Jane continued to talk to her softly whilst 
Bernie sat back and rested on the opposite side on the ambulance. He 
was still very tired and needed to regain some of his strength as 
quickly as possible. He was very mindful of the fact that they were 
still not out of danger and in no doubt that some time very soon he 
would be called upon to move and react quickly at the drop of a hat. 
That is if Humphreys game plan, of which both Bernie and Jane were 
still not one hundred percent clear on, went along smoothly with no 
hitches. But unfortunately, the way Bernie’s body had been responding 
to the actions that his brain had been telling it to carry out since 
being set free by Humphreys earlier were quite the opposite. Something 
wasn’t right and the feeling of not being totally in control of his own 
movements made him nervous. 

Apart from his nerves making him feel a little tense, mentally, now that
they were on the road and he’d had time to weigh up the whole situation 
and contemplate their chances realistically, he did actually feel 
better. They had friends on their side and they seemed to have taken 
the upper hand for now over Johnathon Cane. But physically he was 
weary. It wasn’t just a tiredness that he was feeling but more of a 
general sense of total exhaustion. It was actually beginning to worry 
Bernie the more he thought about it as he’d never in his whole life 
been so rundown as he felt at this very moment. 

After being led by Humphreys earlier to be reunited with his sister and
then to the ambulance bay he hadn’t felt too bad (not too bad but not 
exactly great). Maybe it was the adrenalin rushes that were keeping him 
alert and functioning. Whatever it was, now that he was settled in to 
his chair and resting, he felt like he could sleep for a hundred years 
quite easily. Another point of growing concern was that although he 
couldn’t see the skin on the rest of his body or face his arms looked 
almost anaemic. He couldn’t recall any cases of anaemia in his past or 
come to that, his whole family either. 

“Here take this,” Humphreys leaned forward from his seat opposite and
handed Bernie a small brown glass bottle no more than a couple of 
inches long. 

Bernie looked at him inquisitively. 

“Don’t worry,” said Humphreys noticing his hesitance. “It’s just a
multivitamin drink. It should help a little. It’s a bit stronger than 
the run of the mill energy drinks you’ll find in the supermarkets but 
it’s fine.” 

Bernie took the bottle, unscrewed the top with effort and emptied the
contents down his throat in a second before contorting his face in 
disgust. “I hope it works better than it taste,” he said and put the 
small bottle in to a bin, which was by his feet on the floor of the 
ambulance. 

“So,” said Bernie to Humphreys, “any ideas why I’m so tired?” 

“Yes,” said Humphreys confidently, “You’ve had a lot of blood removed
from you. Whilst you were out, five pints of blood were taken from your 
body. You were put on to a slow drip so that you wouldn’t be too short 
at any given time, but I would say that you’re still probably about a 
pint short at present, which is why you’re so tired and why also you’re 
looking very pale. But don’t worry its only a temporary effect.” 

Humphreys was a very straight to the point sort of talker, “That drink,”
he pointed toward the bin where Bernie had dropped the empty bottle, 
“that you’ve just had should go some way towards restoring your balance 
over the next half an hour. Here take this also.” He passed him a 
chocolate bar, which he took from his pocket. 

“Well prepared aren’t you.” Said Bernie with a smile. 

Humphreys winked, “Used to be a scout and sometimes,” he pointed at the
chocalate bar, “the old simple remedies are still the most effective. 
Don’t panic it’ll pass and you’ll soon be back to normal. Just imagine 
that you volunteered to give blood.” 

Jane looked up from where she sat by Momo, “So what else have they been
doing to us that we don’t already know about?” 

“Well,” Humphreys cleared his throat, “I asked a few people in the know
and looked at a few files that I shouldn’t have and it seems that as I 
said before, Momo was given the hormone treatment to stimulate egg 
production.” He turned to Bernie, “The blood which was taken from you 
Bernie was tested and then a single cell was extracted from the 
samples.” He turned back to Jane, “You know the process inside out but 
for Bernies sake I’ll explain it in simple terms. 

“The nucleus of one of Momo’s eggs was removed by drilling through the
zona pellucia” 

Bernie put his hand up to interrupt, “Drilled through the zona what?
When you said simple terms I did expect English.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ve spent too little time over the past ten years around
people outside of Parkby that I almost expect everyone to know the 
terminology. The zona pellucia.” Humphreys started again, “Basically 
that’s the outer protective layer that surrounds the egg.” 

Bernie nodded in general understanding before Humphreys continued. 

“The eggs genetic material was then removed and in its place your single
healthy blood cell was inserted. A second egg went through the same 
process, but this time the genetic material inside the egg was replaced 
with a blood cell which came from Momo herself.” 

“So what you’re saying,” said Jane, “is that Momo is pregnant with two
embryos.” 

“You mean she's having twins,” said Bernie. 

“No,” said Humphreys, “Twins develop from the same egg which splits in
to two. In this case there are two entirely separate embryos which if 
allowed will grow in to two very different looking clones.” 

“And one of them’s me.” said Bernie quite shocked. 

“You’ve hit the nail right on the head I’m afraid Bernie, one of them is
you. The other is a clone of Momo. 

“My only concern now is terminating the pregnancies.” 

“I take it that you don’t have any strong ethical views regarding
abortions.” said Bernie, quite tongue in cheek. 

Humphreys looked at him seriously, “I don’t see it as terminating a life
when that life already exists.” 

“Point taken.’ said Bernie noticing Humphreys obvious annoyance at what
must have seemed insensitivity, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of 
the matter.” 

“It’s okay”, Humphreys took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, “I’m
just a bit anxious and tense. We’ve still got a long way to go and Cane 
seems to have eyes and ears everywhere.” 

“Whilst I was strapped in that room where you found me,” said Bernie to
Humphreys, “Someone came in and took some of my hair and scrapings of 
skin. What was that all about?” 

Humphreys sighed, “New additions to the library.” 

“Library?” asked Bernie. 

“Yes, Library is probably not the right terminology I suppose but for
all intents that’s exactly what it is. At Parkby there are cells and 
DNA strands of hundreds of individuals that are stored for future 
cloning experiments. Your skin and hair are the latest additions to the 
collection I’m sorry to say.” 

“So what’s the next step for us now?” asked Bernie. 

Humphreys replaced his glasses; “This ambulance is being monitored from
Parkby by a satellite homer. If we deviate from route, then it’ll be 
picked up straight away. 

“I don’t think that Cane trusts me at all. It’s highly probable that he
selected me to come along in the ambulance to test my loyalty. Either 
that or just to have the enjoyment of causing me ever more emotional 
pain. He knows very well that I’ve had enough of this. That’s why, 
Jane, he wanted me to inject you with more succinylcholine. He knew I 
didn’t want to do it.” He looked down at his watch, “Very shortly 
though, within the next ten minutes, another vehicle will draw 
alongside us, whereupon we’ll pull over to the side of the road and as 
quickly as possible get out of the ambulance and into the second 
vehicle. This ambulance will then carry on its designated journey to 
the other complex without us.” 

“Won’t they notice that we’ve stopped if it’s being monitored? Maybe
they’ve got us bugged or have hidden little cameras somewhere,” Bernie 
glanced around. 

“I know for certain that there are no bugs or cameras. And in answer to
your question regards if they’ll notice whether or not we’ve stopped, 
then not necessarily. If we move fast enough it’ll simply show the same 
as if we’d slowed down in heavy traffic. Timing is of the essence.” 

“So, how do you know that there aren’t any bugs?” Bernie wanted to know
everything about Humphreys sources of information. Their lives were in 
his hands and Bernie wanted to be a hundred percent sure that he could 
trust him. It was all very well Jane saying that he was a good man and 
that he wouldn’t betray them to Cane because she’d known him for ten 
years, but people change and the right sort of dangled carrots and arm 
twisting can often bring about surprising results. 

Humphreys answered Bernie’s question without delay, “Cane has a Head of
Security called Ed Burrows. For the right price he would have told me 
all that I needed to know. But the problem there is that he would have 
then gone to Cane and revealed all. The man is a compulsive double 
crosser. 

“Fortunately, Burrows has an assistant, Alkman, who wants Burrows job.
He’d sell his own mother if he thought it was going to get Burrows out 
of the picture. The only thing you can trust about Parkby is to trust 
almost nobody. Alkman originally came to me a while back explaining his 
situation. I was surprised actually how upfront he was, he wanted 
Burrows out of the way so needed some lapses in the security to build 
his file against him. It would seem that when your clone was taken, 
Jane, that Alkman had some involvement but I’m not exactly sure in what 
way. Of course he made it plainly clear that if I said anything then he 
would obviously deny everything and as he put it ‘take drastic 
measure’. He’s a serious man but strangely I trust him to be as corrupt 
as he seems to get what he wants. When this opportunity came along to 
get you all out of Parkby I decided to use him for what I wanted.” 

“So he told you about the ambulance monitoring and the general level of
security behind our trip to the other complex.” said Bernie. 

“He did a little more than that,” Humphreys smiled and rubbed his hands
together satisfyingly, “He’s driving the ambulance.” 

Bernie’s eyes nearly burst out from their sockets. Jane’s lower jaw
dropped like a lead anchor. She’d only been half listening to the 
conversation but the revelation of Humphreys last sentence had been 
loud and clear in catching her attention. 

“Peter.” said Jane, her voice clearly disclosing an overwhelming feeling
of total astonishment, “Are you seriously telling us that this 
ambulance is being driven by the Deputy Head of Security for Parkby 
Life Sciences?” 

Humphreys facial _expression was unable to hide also his surprise at
their reaction to what he’d just told them. He held up his hands in an 
attempt to quickly calm the situation, “Jane.” he said, “It’s fine.” 

“How can you say that it’s fine when one of Canes sidekicks is sat only
a few feet away? Have you gone insane?” 

“Please Jane,” Humphreys looked also at Bernie who he could see was
becoming very uneasy, “I know I’ve taken a risk but it’s one that I 
believe will work. Please trust me on this.” 

Bernie said harshly, “I thought you just told us not to trust anybody at
Parkby.” 

“We really didn’t have that many options open to us I’m afraid.” replied
Humphreys, “There maybe a lot of people that are untrustworthy but out 
of the many that truly sympathise with the cause, unfortunately there’s 
very few that are prepared to put themselves on the line for it. Just 
trust me Jane, Bernie.” 

“I don’t know Peter,” Jane was really having trouble with this, “it
really is something major that you’ve just pulled out of the hat and 
thrown at us here.” 

Humphreys wanted to say something. He wanted to tell them something that
would instil in their minds the same sense of confidence in the plan 
that he himself felt. The silence, although only a couple of seconds 
long, as he wracked his brain for words of divine wisdom seemed to last 
an eternity and Humphreys could almost physically feel a burning 
sensation as Bernie’s glare bore painfully in to him. 

Eventually in desperation he spoke, “Jane, Bernie.” he paused and wiped
a clammy hand across his face, “All I can say to you right now is to go 
along with me and please believe that I have no intentions whatsoever 
of letting any harm come to any of the three of you.” 

“Well, if you want my honest opinion..,” Bernie started to speak but was
cut off abruptly as the ambulance then began to slow down and gradually 
pull in toward the side of the road. 

Humphreys face lit up with a certain sense of relief, “See, I told you I
wouldn’t let you down.” 

“Lets just see what’s waiting for us when we step outside shall we.”
said Bernie, a look of apprehension fixed firmly on his face. 

The ambulance ground to a halt and they heard the sound of another
vehicle pulling up alongside them. Humphreys opened the screen that 
covered the window along the side of the ambulance. Through it they 
could see a deep blue transit style van. The doors of the ambulance 
were then abruptly flung open. 

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” said the tall figure of Alkman who
now stood before them. 

Humphreys jumped down and quickly opened the doors of the other vehicle
whilst the more agile Alkman climbed up in to the ambulance and started 
to move the trolley that Momo lay on. Jane helped to keep the 
fluid-drip safely in place. Bernie, now with a little regained strength 
also got out of the ambulance and stretched his legs vigorously to get 
some feeling back. 

“Sorry Bernie,” said Humphreys from the back of the van, “No time for
that, get in.” 

Bernie obeyed and Humphreys helped him up. Jane and Alkman swiftly moved
Momo without disturbing her and in a matter of just over a minute they 
were all inside the second vehicle and ready to get going again. 

Alkman got back in to the ambulance and without a single word or
gesture, he hadn’t even made eye contact with any of them, he was gone 
and heading in the direction of the second complex. Humphreys then 
banged hard with his hand on the metal roof of the van and they too 
were on their way. 

“A job well done I think.” said Humphreys as he smiled at Jane and
Bernie. 

Bernie was not so quick to return a verdict of mutual feelings, “So
who’s driving this one?” he said as he squatted down on a cushion. The 
van wasn’t as spacious or well equipped as the ambulance. 

“I’m glad to say,” Humphreys looked to Jane as he spoke, “That with our
current chauffeur, I have a feeling that you’ll be somewhat more 
relaxed.” 

15 

“What do you mean it was empty,” snarled Cane as Ed Burrows delivered
the catastrophic news that he most definitely did not want to hear, 
“How can it be empty? They can’t just disappear in to thin air. 

“Did they actually get in to the ambulance in the first place?”
Johnathon Cane marched around his office waving his arms around 
haphazardly in the air. 

“ I..” Burrows tried to answer 

“Who was driving?” 

“It wa..” 

“What about the satellite monitors?” Cane was blurting out questions
quicker than Burrows could give him the answers. 

Burrows finally got to speak whilst Cane stopped to catch his breath,
which was coming short and sharp, “Dr. Cane, the monitors picked up 
nothing out of the ordinary. The ambulance left here on schedule and 
arrived at the second complex virtually on the dot.” 

“Virtually?” Cane was livid, “Virtually! I don’t want virtually.
Virtually isn’t good enough. I want absolute precision. Have you even 
stopped to think for a moment that because they arrived ‘virtually’ on 
time has anything to do with the fact that four people were in the back 
of that ambulance when it left here and no one was inside when it 
arrived at the other end.” He stopped and glared at Burrows whilst 
menacingly prodding the side of his head with his finger at the same 
time, “Didn’t you bother to think. Didn’t you even stop for a second to 
consider the possible shortfalls.” he stared out of his office window 
at the grey morning sky, an ominous warning of the rain to come. 

“Johnathon,” said Burrows, “The security for this was totally out of my
hands. I had nothing to do with. It was all arranged without my 
knowledge.” 

He was right but that didn’t matter to Cane, “This isn’t a movie Ed.
Occasionally, believe it or not, the good guys don’t always win; and 
this was supposed to be one of those times, just in case you hadn’t 
noticed.” Turning away from the scene outside of the window of his 
office he sat back down behind his desk and looked up at Burrows who 
was standing before him like a reprimanded child. “Next you’ll be 
telling me that Griswell and her brother have disappeared as well.” 

Burrows gazed at him blankly. 

Cane was silent for a second as he read Burrows face, “They have gone
haven’t they.” It wasn’t a question he was asking because he already 
knew the answer. His whole face began to grow darker and darker as 
blood rushed to his head in his sheer frustration. His fists clenched, 
he didn’t know what to do, he was so angry. Angry with Burrows because 
it was his job to make sure that these mishaps never happened and angry 
with himself for being so damn over confident of the whole operation. 

Burrows remained silent, there was nothing that he could say right now
to make things any different, or better. 

Cane stood up and started to walk toward Burrows. After a couple of
steps he stopped, his face slightly twisted. He leaned on his desk for 
support. His breathing was becoming faster and he put a hand to his 
chest. 

“Are you okay?” said Burrows moving around the desk and helping Cane
back in to his chair as he began to stagger. 

“Pain,” Cane wheezed, his face turning from a deep scarlet colour, now
to a deathly paleness. In a split second his posture was transformed 
from that of a strong and angry person to a weak shadow of his self. 
Although he was breathing faster and faster he wasn’t getting enough 
oxygen, his eyes were rolling and small drops of perspiration quickly 
began to form and run across his brow and temples. “Dizzy.” he said as 
his right leg began to spasm and the muscles in his thigh started to 
tighten. 

Burrows grabbed the telephone on Canes desk and whilst at the same time
trying to hold Cane steady with one hand firmly on his shoulder he 
typed in a four-digit number. Straight away the sound of a manufactured 
voice replied through the speaker. It was the Accident and Emergency 
Department within the Complex. 

“Yes Dr. Cane, do you need any assistance?” relayed the voice. 

“This is Ed Burrows, Head of Security. I think Dr. Cane is having a
heart attack.’ 

Very calmly the man on the other end of the telephone said, “A team is
on its way up Mr. Burrows. It would be a great help if in the meantime 
if you could attempt to lay Dr. Cane on the floor in the emergency 
recovery position. Check that his breathing passage is clear and try to 
calm him by talking slowly in a reassuring tone. The team should be 
there in two minutes maximum. Thank you for your co-operation.” 

“Thank you,” said Burrows, not sure if he’d just been talking to a robot
or a human, or a programmed human come to that. 

Whatever or whoever it was, Burrows quickly jumped in to action
following the directions that he’d been given. Struggling, he managed 
to get Cane back out of his chair and on to the office floor, laying 
him as best he could on his side in the recovery position. He checked 
that there was nothing in his throat. He loosened his tie and undid the 
top two buttons of his shirt but Canes breathing was still fast and 
strained. His eyes were glazed and rolling like marbles across a 
polished floor. Also, not just the one leg but both were now spasming 
relentlessly. In some ways, thought Burrows, it was more like he was 
having a fit than a heart attack but he’d never heard Cane mention that 
he suffered from epilepsy. 

The door of Canes office burst open and three men in white lab coats
carrying metal suitcases rushed in. Burrows got to his feet and stood 
back as the three medics promptly knelt down and busied themselves 
around the hyperventilating Cane. 

Burrows tried to listen to what they were saying to each other but they
seemed to speak so fast and in a terminology that he had no 
comprehension of that it was impossible for him to ascertain exactly 
what was happening. Helplessly he watched as one administered an 
injection whilst the other two steadfastly held Canes body still. 

After only about twenty seconds or so, whatever it was that they’d
injected in to Cane’s left arm seemed to be having the desired effect. 
The two medics that were holding him down carefully let go, there hands 
hovering in ready to return if needed. Canes whole body began to relax. 
The tightness of his leg muscles died down and the lids of his eyes 
fluttered for a second before slowly closing. 

The medic that seemed to be the senior of the three turned to Burrows,
“I’ve just given him a small amount of sedative to calm him and stop 
the spasms. If he’d carried on like that for much longer he’d have 
passed out anyway.” 

“What was it?” asked Burrows. 

The medic was already packing his equipment back in to his case, “Just a
panic attack.” 

“I thought he was having a heart attack.” Burrows seemed somewhat
disappointed. 

“Nothing so serious I’m pleased to say, although the symptoms can be
similar, tightening of the muscles, unable to catch your breath, 
sweating and dizziness.” He got to his feet, “Too much adrenalin in the 
body is the cause. It can be triggered by such things as anxiety, 
stress or fear.” 

“Oh”, said Burrows. 

“We should get him comfortable before he wakes up.” 

The three of them and Burrows quickly got Cane up from the floor and
laid him on his back with his head propped up across the large leather 
sofa which proudly filled a good part of the left side wall of the 
office. 

With Cane now subdued and relaxed the medics walked toward the door to
leave, “I’ll call in a couple of hours to make sure that he’s fine. He 
should be on his feet again in about half an hour.” 

“Is there anything I should do?” Burrows was a little disturbed at the
nonchalant manner of the senior medic. 

The senior medic smiled, “Tell him to take less coffee and sugar, and
get a bit more activity of the parasympathetic nervous system,” and 
with that they were out of the door of the office and gone. 

* 

Just as the medic had said, Cane opened his eyes and drowsily sat up
after about thirty minutes. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and with a 
confused _expression looked around the room. It was a while before he 
spoke and when he did it was with a tone of complete bewilderment. 

“What happened?” 

Burrows got up from his chair, which he’d been sat in for the last half
hour waiting for Cane to come round. 

“A panic attack.” 

“A panic attack?” Cane repeated in a mumble. 

“Yes Johnathon. Too much adrenalin in your system apparently. Do you
remember anything?” 

Canes mind was still clouded somewhat, “I just remember a pain in my
chest from not being able to breath. Apart from that nothing.” 

Burrows passed him a glass of water which Cane gladly took and gulped
down. 

“What were we talking about when it happened?” Cane asked as he handed
the empty glass back to Burrows. 

“Nothing that can’t wait.” Burrows had hoped that this would happen. Now
he had a little time to sort out what to do next. He needed to speak 
with Alkman his deputy. 

He took the empty glass from Cane and put it on the desk, “I’ll let the
doctor know that you’re okay now. He said that he wanted to check up on 
you later.” 

“Right.” said Cane; his brain wasn’t ready yet to concentrate his
attention fully on what it was that his Head of Security was saying. 

Burrows made to make an exit, “I’ll come back in a couple of hours and
we can finish discussing what it was that we were talking about 
earlier.” 

“Fine.” said Cane as he lay back down on the leather sofa and closed his
eyes. 

Burrows, relieved, left the office. He had some seriously pressing
matters to attend to which required his full and immediate attention. 

16 

“Do you think they’ve realised that you’re involved?” Jane asked
Humphreys. 

“I think any fool would have put two and two together by now.” Humphreys
sighed, “You know, I have a strange feeling that Cane knew I would try 
and help you. I think by telling me to go with Momo in the ambulance it 
was his way of saying ‘go on, have a go if you think you can’. I’m sure 
he was just dangling the proverbial carrot in front of the donkey.” 

“If that was his intention then I’m glad you took the bait because it
seems that we’re not doing too bad at the moment.” 

“Lets not speak too soon. There’s still a long way to go yet.” 

There was very little light in the back of the van. The windows of the
doors had been blacked out and the only form of illumination came from 
a single bulb in the corner that was powered from the engine battery. 
It was a very simple ‘bog standard’ form of transportation, but exactly 
the kind of simple ‘bog standard’ transportation that wouldn’t attract 
any unwanted attention. 

“So.” said Bernie, with a little more vigour in his voice than he had
earlier, “Where do we go from here? What’s the plan?” 

Humphreys leaned forward from his place on the floor of the van toward
the two of them. “As I mentioned, I think Jane, that you’ll be pleased 
when I tell you that our present driver is none other than your old 
friend Dr. Anthea Harding.” There was a sense of childlike excitement 
in his voice at being the bearer of good news. 

Even in the dim light Bernie could see a look and smile of relief on his
sisters face. The deep lines of tension that had lingered across her 
brow like an uninvited guest seemed to instantaneously slide away. 

Bernie had heard the name Anthea Harding before in passing conversation.
Both Jane and Anthea had graduated from Oxford University in the same 
year, 2000. From there Jane had gone straight to Parkby on a graduate 
recruitment scheme whereas Anthea had worked in Third World hospitals 
around the globe for the Red Cross for four years. In the spring of 
2004 an opportunity to work on an Aids vaccine at Parkby had sounded 
too good an offer to turn down and the two friends had quickly 
reinstated their friendship. 

Just before Jane had left Parkby six months ago, trusting her friend,
she had hinted at her plans to Anthea without openly stating what she 
had in mind. Although Anthea too had become disillusioned with the 
situation and the morale issues raised regards the projects that they 
were working on, she was too afraid to step out of line and so decided 
not to join her friend on the run. Now, it seemed that the fear factor 
had vanished and Anthea had put her loyalties in to perspective. 

Humpreys continued, “We’ll be staying on this road for about another
hour and a half until were just outside of London. A friend of mine 
runs a private hospital. Full of your rich lardy-da types; very 
exclusive. He does a lot of plastic surgery. The place also doubles as 
a secluded health centre for celebrities who would rather not publicise 
their medical conditions and addictions.” 

“Does he know that we’re coming?” inquired Bernie. 

“Yes. Although it was quite difficult to get a clear line to him. Most
of the phone lines in the complex are monitored.” 

“Is there anything about that place that isn’t monitored?” 

“Only the toilet Bernie.” Humphreys laughed. “But no, seriously, I
managed to get a message to him only a few hours ago. He’s a trusted 
friend and he’ll be prepared for our arrival all in good time.” 

Jane shifted her position to avoid getting cramp in her legs, “How long
do you think it will take?” she said, meaning how long would it take to 
remove the embryos from her and Momo. Peter knew what she was talking 
about. 

“It’s quite a simple procedure Jane. By this evening you’ll be as right
as rain.” There was a genuine caring feeling in Humphreys manner that 
gave Jane the confidence to believe every word he said. 

“And after that?” Bernie asked inquisitively. He wanted to make sure
that the ending was going to be a happy one. 

“We’ve still got to discuss the final details, but rest assured I have a
few ideas. A few aces up the sleeve.” 

Bernie put his hands together, prayer like and looked up, “Please God,”
he said sarcastically, “In this hour of need, do not desert us.” 

“Stop it Bernie,” said Jane un-amused by her brother’s antics. 

“Well I think we need a bit more than a few aces up the sleeve to get us
out of this one.” 

Humphreys sighed his heaviest sigh. He was a patient man but he was also
very tired and under pressure. 

The next twenty minutes passed with very little conversation or event of
any significance. Bernie was inadvertently overcome by the tiredness 
that he’d been holding off for sometime now and gladly fell in to a 
deep sleep. This came much to Humphreys pleasure. 

At last Momo finally awoke and Jane tried as best she could to give her
a rundown of events up to now. She missed out a few of the more 
harrowing points and facts but made her best efforts to make it clear 
what had been done to her and that very soon the problem would be 
solved. 

In her current state, due to the sedatives, she was still a little
confused and Jane realised that a lot of what she was telling her was 
probably going straight over her head. Surprisingly Momo seemed to take 
it quite well although Jane wasn’t sure how much she was holding back. 
As Jane recounted the story Momo simply listened and nodded her head to 
show that she understood and afterwards she thanked Humphreys for his 
help. 

Between them, Jane and Humphreys managed to get Momo sitting upright.
Humphreys found a couple of old blankets in the corner of the van and 
rolled them up for Momo to use as a makeshift pillow. After a short 
discussion with Jane, they decided it best to leave the drip attached 
to her arm just in case she was still slightly dehydrated. As far as 
they could tell, under the lack of light, she looked well and it wasn’t 
long before Momo was talking more freely and pounding them both with 
question after question, as was more attributable to her usual 
character. 

* 

“So how did it go?” said Burrows to his deputy, Alkman. 

They were stood in Burrows modest office. It was a dark room with little
furnishing. Burrows had kitted it out to his own specification and he 
liked it. As opposed to Cane, Burrows was a minimalist and didn’t care 
for fancy sofas and the like. He never really saw the point. 

Alkman was officially his deputy but the way that they worked together
they were more like a double act. They were of a similar age, demeanour 
and also more strangely, appearance. These aspects accumulating in a 
running joke throughout the firm that they were actually twins 
separated at birth, or cloned. 

To the question, Alkman smiled a smile that gave Burrows his answer
without him having to so much as even open his mouth and speak, “Like 
clockwork.” he said. 

“And I take it that you’ve attached the homer to the van? 

Alkman nodded, “Exactly as we’d discussed.” 

Burrows gleamed exuberantly, which was quite unusual for him,
“Good...good.” he clapped his hands together to facilitate a job well 
done, “And they didn’t suspect you of any betrayal?” 

“Why should they? They think that I’ve betrayed you.” 

“Excellent.” said Burrows with glee. 

“So when do we haul them in?” 

“Be patient,” Burrows said, his eyes bubbling, “Let’s just give them
enough time to think that they’ve got away with their little plan. And 
then,” he paused, the emphasis of his words was slow and deliberated, 
“when they least expect it, we have them.” 

“And how did Cane take the news when you told him?” 

Burrows couldn’t stop himself from laughing slightly, “Oh you should
have seen it. I could have won an Oscar. He was sat there all full of 
himself in his office, wearing that smug look. You know the one.” 
Burrows attempted to impersonate Cane. 

“Yeah.” Alkman knew the look alright. 

Burrows continued, “So I walked straight in there and told him exactly
what had happened. Apart from the obvious of course. He got angry and 
started ranting and raving, his arms flying in all directions. I 
actually thought at one point he was going to attack me. Then just as 
it seemed like he was about to explode completely, I mean physically 
erupt, the poor bastard had a panic attack and collapsed.” 

The two of them smiled satisfyingly. 

“He didn’t take it too well then?” said Alkman sarcastically. 

Burrows calmed himself to his usual manner, “Seriously, I really thought
he was having a heart attack. I thought I’d killed him.” 

“Does he know that Griswell and her brother are gone aswell?” said
Alkman as he straightened himself up. 

Burrows face was now serious, “Unfortunately yes. I would have preferred
that news to have been delayed but there was nothing I could do to 
stall for time.” 

“Just wait till he finds out who’s driving the getaway vehicle.” Alkman
couldn’t stop himself from laughing. 

Burrows took a deep breath, “Well, things seem to be fitting nicely in
to place don’t they.” 

Alkman recomposed himself after laughing at Cane’s reaction to Parkby’s
misfortunes, “What are we supposed to do with the bodies afterwards?” 

“First of all enough photographic images will be taken which will be at
our disposal to issue to the press or relevant parties at our 
benefactors desired time and planning. The bodies will then be quickly 
cleared away and disposed of. It won’t be a pretty sight once we’ve 
filled that van with enough lead to bring down a herd of rampaging 
elephants. Once the news is out and stories start to flow then Cane may 
as well say goodbye to all his little pet projects for a while. 

“The whole can of worms will be wide open and it’s simply a case of a
chain reaction domino effect from there on in.” 

“So what do you think will happen?” 

“Private Investors will be the first to get worried so of course the
steady flow of financial support that Cane has been bringing in will 
slow down. The Government will obviously deny all claims of any 
projects relating to cloning ever taking place; and to make sure that 
there’s no evidence, this place will have to immediately shut down any 
operation relating to cloning within 24 hours and move what they can to 
a more secure location for future project restarts. 

“ You’ll probably see one or two of the old die hard scientists
disappearing as well. There can’t be a single thing left in the 
building that could be connected or traced in any way, shape, or form 
back to damaging projects in the slightest. Remember that there’s an 
election looming. 

“And, my friend,” he patted Alkman on the shoulder, “for reasons that
you or I have Iittle care for, certain people involved in that election 
as well as another concerned party in a more financial capacity want 
that to happen so badly and those certain people are going to pay us a 
substantial amount of hard currency to see that it does. Parkby Life 
Sciences it would seem has gotten itself a bit too far in front of the 
competition with their achievements and I’m afraid that isn’t good for 
business at all; or so I’m told. Plus the Government have gotten 
themselves a bit too far out of their own depth to be safe of political 
repercussions.” Burrows paused and looked straight into Alkman’s eyes, 
“We do as we’re are told and then we, as the saying goes, take the 
money and run. ” 

Alkman returned Burrows gaze, “Okay.” 

“And,” Burrows could sense a slight feeling of unease about Alkman, “if
you’re worried that someone’s going to start snooping too far and link 
us to the deaths of Jane Griswell and her friends then don’t be. When 
the bullets start to fly we’ll be far, far away from the scene of the 
crime; and the only people that could possibly indict either of us will 
be dead.” 

* 

The van gradually began to slow down until eventually coming to a
standstill completely. 

“What’s going on?” said Bernie to Humphreys. They'd been driving solidly
for about 45 minutes and without a word from their escape coordinator 
they had now stopped. 

“Nothing to worry about.” Humphreys turned to Jane; “I thought you and
Anthea might want to have a chat so I’m going to drive the rest of the 
way.” 

“Why didn’t you mention this before,” inquired Bernie. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t think it important and I didn’t know how long Anthea
would drive before she wanted to swap. It’s all quite innocent Bernie I 
assure you. Have I let you down up to now?” 

Bernie relaxed and realised that he was being over suspicious.“No but I
don’t..” 

Bernie was unable to finish whatever it was that he wanted to say as the
doors of the van swung open and all four of them had to shield their 
eyes from the bright light that had previously been kept at bay by the 
darkened glass. 

“Anthea?” said Jane lowering her raised hand and squinting. 

“Jane. I was so worried about you.” The warm voice was instantly
recognisable to Jane as belonging to her long time friend. Climbing out 
of the back of the van and past Bernie and Humphreys she jumped down. 
Anthea, dressed casually in jeans and a blue tee-shirt, was slightly 
bigger built than Jane with a rugged look and her long hair was tied 
firmly back in to pony tail. The two friends hugged; it had been just 
over six months since they’d last seen or spoken to each other. 

After a minute Anthea stepped back and held Jane’s hands, whilst looking
her up and down as if to check that she was still all in one piece. 

“Well we’ve certainly gone and done it now haven’t we,” she said, her
familiar wide and encouraging smile beaming brighter than the morning 
sun. 

“You could say that.” replied Jane. 

17 

Detective Charles Hapgood walked through the doorway and saw at a
glance, the nerve centre of the police forces nationwide monitoring 
system. There were screens, small screens, hundreds of them. Each 
screen monitoring a different street with one officer to every five 
screens. The room was immense and quite overwhelming. At least he knew 
where a vast proportion of his taxes were going to every week, he 
thought to himself rather begrudgingly. An orchestrated cacophony of 
voices reverberated around the warehouse like chamber. Its high ceiling 
roof collecting the noise and returning it back downward in a muddle of 
unrecognisable sounds. Men and women busied themselves, running here, 
there and everywhere as they delivered messages and data. It was a room 
buzzing with activity. 

It was very early in the morning. Hapgood had slept barely three hours
and his bloodshot eyes told quite clearly that he wasn’t a man used to 
being up and about before dawn on a regular basis. Upon leaving the 
main complex of Parkby Life Sciences he’d returned back to his London 
headquarters. After doing a bit of independent investigation of his own 
he was now eager to locate a certain stretch of motorway running down 
the country. Referring to his notes, he took a rough estimation of how 
long it would take for a vehicle to traverse a certain section of the 
long motorway he’d need to peruse and sat himself comfortably down in 
front of a row of the small screens. 

“Do you need any help Sir?” asked the officer whose chair Hapgood had
taken. 

Detective Hapgood simply ushered him away with a wave of his hand and
stared intensely at the screens. 

Hapgoods inquisitive nature had lead him to poke his nose in to matters
that were none of his business. He knew that some of the police 
hierarchy would be down on him like a ton of bricks if they found out 
what he was doing but at this very moment in time that prospect was far 
from his mind. If what he thought turned out to be true he wasn’t sure 
if he was going to act upon it or not, but he at least wanted to settle 
his own nagging curiosity. 

Over the last six months he and his deputy partner, Cholly, had been
assigned to lead a specific operation. At the time he’d asked very few 
questions. It was a need to know basis that they had been told to work 
by and it seemed as time went on the need to know information became 
less and less. In a sense Hapgood had felt like he was fumbling in the 
dark as he tried to run the operation. With very little to go on he 
only knew what he had to do but not why. His job was to locate Jane 
Griswell, monitor her movements and when word came through, he was to 
apprehend her. Reasons for her apprehension had never been disclosed. 
The only information that had been available to him was that it was a 
matter of great importance to national security. 

It was therefore surprising that when the order did come through on that
certain evening to apprehend Jane Griswell that he was also given 
photographs of her lifeless body sprawled across the floor of an old 
abandoned farmhouse in the north of England. 

The strange thing to Hapgood was that to all his knowledge he and Cholly
had been on Jane Griswells trail as close as bees around honey, or 
‘like flies to shit’ as he’d so eloquently put it to Cholly. In his 
mind there was no way that the person that they’d been following could 
be that very same person in the photographs. Unless his eyes had been 
deceiving him then the photographs had to have been fabricated. He 
supposed that in today’s day and age though, anything like that was 
simple computer generation. Without questioning he had entered Bernie 
Torme’s house not sure himself whether Jane Griswell was indeed alive 
or dead. 

He’d been under strict orders on how to conduct the operation, which
would result with the arrest of Jane Griswell and possible others who 
had turned out to be her brother Bernie Torme and her friend Momo 
Templeton. Obviously he was confused when he was told that Griswell was 
dead and that in fact he’d just be pumping her brother for information 
to find out if she’d passed on any documents during the previous 6 
months that were rightfully the property of Parkby Life Sciences. If so 
he would then be charged with Corporate Espionage if he failed to 
comply. His conversation with Bernie had been taped on a small recorder 
in Hapgoods coat pocket and Cholly had also transcribed it in his note 
pad, as was his habit. 

Hapgoods questions to Bernie and the timing of the photographs been
shown had all been scripted by his seniors and Parkby Security. To 
Hapgood this was not the way he liked to work and the fact that he 
didn’t know what this was all about only served to further the probing 
that he’d done after being relieved of the operation to return to 
London. 

He didn’t like it at all. He and a small team had tracked someone for
six months, concluded the operation successfully, although with a few 
unexpected twists and turns in the mix, delivered the suspects to the 
designated place and then quite literally been told to leave. Hapgood 
was a proud officer. He believed that he did his job for the purpose of 
a better society. He trusted his superiors and acknowledged that if he 
was told to monitor someone’s movements and then arrest them then it 
was for a boni fide legitimate reason. But now things didn’t seem to 
add up. He had a gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right this 
time. 

Hapgood had met with Johnathon Cane on a few occasions over the past six
months and was not overly taken with him. His attitude, as far as he 
was concerned, was a bit too cocksure. The guy needed bringing down a 
peg or two. Hapgood was well aware that whatever connections Parkby 
Life Sciences had with the Government that they were of an extremely 
sensitive nature. The background that he’d been issued with regard to 
the firm was that they were a pharmaceutical and biological virus 
control company. He knew that they received some Government funding. He 
knew that Jane Griswell had worked for Parkby up until six months ago; 
and he had been told that they believed her disappearance could lead to 
a breach of the official secrets act. This was enough for Hapgood to 
believe he was doing the right thing and he didn’t need to question it. 
He carried out his duties with a clear conscience. But now he was 
having second thoughts. Ever since he’d seen Cane slap Jane Griswell 
across the face in the reception area of Parkby he’d been uncomfortable 
with himself. Although Hapgood would be the first to acknowledge that 
sometimes a bit of the ‘rough stuff’ was the only way to get things 
done he could only condone Canes’s actions as cowardly and totally 
unnecessary. 

Over the course of the last two days Hapgood had made a few discreet
inquiries. He hadn’t been able to find out exactly what Jane Griswell 
had been apprehended for as no paperwork was filed after the 
detainment, which in itself was unusual. But what he also did find most 
puzzling was the fact that her brother, who also was arrested, had no 
previous convictions or records relating to him in the slightest and on 
top of that the unnamed female turned out to be the daughter of a 
Government Foreign Diplomat. It just didn’t make sense. 

Before leaving Parkby, Hapgood and Cholly had managed to get a look at
the security files while noone was around. If caught he would simply 
say that they were alerting them to their own lax security system. He 
found that the girl, who he now knew to be Momo Templeton, was being 
transferred to the second complex. An ambulance had been allocated and 
a Dr. Peter Humphreys would be escorting her. But why would she be 
transferred via ambulance? As far as Hapgood could recall she was fit 
and well the last time he had seen her, which was only a couple of days 
ago. What had happened to her since he wondered? 

They would be leaving early in the morning, this morning. Hapgood had
returned to the City only yesterday and had been keen to see if that 
scheduled transfer went ahead. 

“Thought you might need this Sir,” Cholly put a cup of strong coffee on
the desk in front of Hapgood. 

“Thanks,” Hapgood inhaled the aromatic steam that rose up in a swirling
motion from the cup and then took a drink. 

“Any luck sir?” 

“It’s not due to go ahead for a while yet, but, as you can see from the
screen,” he pointed to one of the screens of the five which he sat in 
front of, “as soon as they exit the slip road onto the motorway our 
cameras will have them covered.” 

Cholly leaned closer. “So how long will they be visible before being out
of the cameras range?” 

“Not long. It’ll be another half mile before the next camera.” he
reclined back in his chair with the coffee in his hand, “I don’t really 
know if watching is going to reveal anything. I just can’t figure out 
why she’s being taken to the other complex.” 

“What’s at the other complex Sir?” asked Cholly. 

“Well, as far as I know it’s only half operational and at the moment
it’s supposed to be used for research.” 

“What kind of research?” 

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” 

For the next couple of hours Hapgood and Cholly took turns in watching
the monitor screens in case the scheduled arrival of the ambulance was 
changed but nothing of importance seemed to pass. Eventually as a tired 
Hapgood was rubbing his eyes his attention was suddenly brought back by 
Cholly. 

“Look.” 

Hapgood abruptly sat up as Cholly prodded the screen with his finger.
Before them was the picture of one of the Parkby ambulances joining the 
motorway. With very little traffic on the road they were able to watch 
closely as it headed south. After only a matter of ten seconds or so 
the ambulance was out of range and Hapgood pressed a button on the 
keypad before him to switch the view to the next camera along the road. 
He surmised that all being well then they would come in to view very 
shortly. 

Right on time the ambulance came back in to view and again they watched
before switching to the next camera and waiting. This process continued 
for about ten minutes before Hapgood noticed something. 

“I might be wrong but,” he stared at the screen, “do you see that van.” 

Cholly looked. 

“There’s barely more than five vehicles on the road yet that van for the
past mile and a half has stuck behind the ambulance like glue. Why?” 

“I hadn’t paid any attention to it Sir. But now you mention it, it does
a seem a bit strange.” 

They watched then as both the ambulance and the van began to slow down
and pull in, illegally, to the side of the hard shoulder of the 
motorway. Totally transfixed they looked on as they saw firstly, get 
out from the cab of the ambulance, a man that Hapgood recognised as 
Alkman and then even more surprisingly from the back of the ambulance 
appeared Jane Griswell, Bernie Torme, Dr. Peter Humphreys and finally a 
stretchered Momo Templeton. 

Neither Hapgood nor Cholly spoke a word. They couldn’t believe what they
were seeing on the screen before them. The move from the ambulance to 
the van took barely thirty seconds. Alkman then got back in to the 
ambulance and resumed his journey. The van then followed suit yet 
slowed to let the ambulance get well ahead. 

In silence the two of them continued to monitor the progress of both the
ambulance and the van. The ambulance continued along the motorway 
before turning off toward the second complex. The van, which carried 
Jane, Bernie, Momo and Humphreys stayed also on the motorway but failed 
to turn off and bypassed the complex completely. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” said Hapgood. 

18 

“When Peter told me that they’d found you I didn’t know what to think.”
Anthea was now sat in the back of the van whilst Humpreys drove. “After 
you left, anyone that had had more than a working relationship with you 
was interrogated. I myself was questioned for over five hours by Ed 
Burrows and his pathetic sidekick, Alkman.” 

“Did they hurt you?” asked Jane with genuine concern. 

“Oh no, nothing like that. It was just questions. Lots and lots of
questions. When was the last time you saw Jane? What was she wearing? 
Did she mention anything about leaving? Was she upset about anything? 

“But the way they carried out the questioning; it was almost as if they
wanted to trick us in to saying that we knew something. That probably 
we’d helped you get out. I suppose Burrows was embarrassed that his 
great security and monitoring measures had been breached and he just 
wanted some incriminating evidence. Whether real or fabricated, he 
wanted something to report back to Cane with. Save face you could say. 

“It was more like psychological torture than anything else though.
Persistent questioning. I must have heard the same set of questions a 
hundred times before they gave up. It was like Chinese water torture in 
a sense.” 

“When you say us,” Jane paused, she knew that because of her actions
some of her closest friends had been hurt, “who else was questioned.” 

“Peter, as you probably know.” 

“No, he never said a thing.” 

“Well, that’s Peter.” 

Jane hung her head guiltily. She’d never thought of the consequences
that her actions might have caused to others. Was she being selfish, 
she thought, by making a run for it? Or had she simply started the ball 
rolling in a chain of events that would lead to greater things. She had 
to plump for the latter just to keep her spirits up and remain positive 
about the situation. 

There was silence for a second before Anthea spoke, “Jane, I want you to
know that I don’t blame you for wanting to get out and I was pleased 
that someone finally made a stand. The one thing that made me strong 
whilst they were questioning me, the one thing that stopped me from 
giving them the answers that they wanted, it was knowing that you’d 
made a stand for the rest of us. Cane probably couldn’t imagine that 
someone would have the guts to even consider challenging the system; 
but you did.” 

Jane looked up, “Anthea, I’m sorry.” 

Anthea looked at Jane surprised, “Sorry for what Jane? I should be
thanking you. You always were the strong headed one.” 

“Thank you Anthea.” there was heart felt emotion in Janes words and the
two friends clutched each others hands in a show of unity, respect and 
love. 

“Ahem,” Bernie coughed his interruptions, “So, Anthea. Do you have any
better idea of where were going than Peter?” 

She leaned back against the side of the van, “As far I know we’re
heading toward a private clinic that’s run by a friend of Peters.” 

“We know that much already. But after that? What happens then? We can’t
stay there forever and I doubt it would be safe for long.” Bernie’s 
energy levels were virtually back to normal and he wanted to be back in 
the thick of things. 

“I understand what your saying Bernie.” Anthea clapped her hands
together like a speaker looking for everyone’s attention, “One option 
is to get out of the country; and its something that we’ve already 
discussed. Remember Bernie, it’s also Peter and I that are in danger 
now as well as yourselves, and so we want to get a rock solid plan 
formulated just as urgently. We’re all in this together now.” 

Bernie didn’t answer. Not that he didn’t want to, it’s just that he
didn’t know what to say. People were laying down their lives for him, 
Jane and Momo and he hadn’t stopped to think or to even say thank you. 

His train of thought was then interrupted by Momo. 

“We could go to Japan.” she said. 

They all turned to look at Momo. She’d said it so seriously. 

“It’s a good suggestion,” answered Bernie. 

“But is it feasible?” said Jane. 

“At least we know people there who will help us.” said Momo. “My family
for starters.” 

“True.” said Bernie. 

“Theoretically it’s a good idea,” Anthea interjected, “And in
practicality it could be a possible idea also.” Anthea was aware of who 
Momo was and her background. “As I’ve already said, one option is to 
get out of the country and Europe was Peter and mines first thought. 
Japan may be a tricky one.” 

“Do you think it’s possible?” Bernie asked Anthea. 

Anthea simply shrugged her shoulders, “Let’s just say, it’s just another
option right now.” 

“But,” said Bernie twisting his mouth as if in deep concentration,
“escaping to any country, whether near or far, is not going to be easy. 
I think that we can safely say that the immigration authorities are 
going to be on high alert.” 

Anthea smiled cheekily, “There are always ways around certain
authorities. I do know a few people in the right places.” 

“So you have actually got some idea of what we’re going to do.” added
Bernie. 

“Luckily, yes. But at this stage it’s still only an idea. The private
clinic that we’re going to has a clientele that don’t overly appreciate 
the camera lenses of prying photographers seeing their comings and 
goings. To get around this there’s a private helipad and copter within 
the grounds which is used for ferrying the customers,” Anthea made 
quotation marks with her fingers around the word customers, “to and 
from the place.” 

“So Japan is out of the question then.” said Bernie. 

“Initially. Granted, a helicopter isn’t going to get us from England to
the other side of the world. But it will take us up the first couple of 
rungs of the ladder. Once we’re on our way we can think from there. 
This has all come about in a bit of a mad rush and I’m afraid having 
planning meetings weren’t on the agenda.” 

“Point taken and..” Bernie was just about to finally say thank you to
Anthea when his words were abruptly cut off yet again by a loud, short 
and sharp cracking noise. This was followed by the van lurching to the 
right violently and throwing them all around the van. 

The four looked at each other with anxious expressions. 

“Maybe it was the van backfiring?” said Anthea. 

“No,” replied Bernie, he’d heard the very same sound only a few days
prior when a bullet had come hurtling through his living room window, 
whizzing past his ear, “I really hope that I’m wrong but I think I know 
what that was.” 

Everyone else knew also and they quickly shrunk down as far to the floor
of the van as they could. Jane turned and knocked hard on the 
connecting end of the van to the cab. Humphreys would hear her clearly 
and, she hoped, reply. 

There was no reply. The van was moving erratically and also slowing
down. There was another crack and they heard a tire blow with a loud 
bang. The van swerved across the road. Another crack took out a second 
tire. The van swerved violently again and they were thrown again 
around, careering in to each other like lifeless rag dolls. The glass 
of the two small windows in the back doors of the van suddenly cascaded 
in, followed by heavy sustained fire that literally tore through the 
van. There was another bang as the third tire was shot out. The van 
then spun ferociously off the road and came to a jolting halt with a 
hard thud. 

It was clear that they’d hit something, stopping them suddenly in their
tracks, but from the back of the van it was impossible to see what it 
was. There was silence for a second, Bernie sat up. The sound of 
gunfire then burst in to life again with great fervour. Bernie was 
knocked back as he took a bullet to his shoulder. He winced in pain and 
cried out in agony as he held his hand tightly over the wound in a vain 
attempt to stop the blood. 

“Bernie!” cried Jane. 

Momo tried to get up but was held down by Anthea. It seemed that whoever
was firing at them was intending to totally obliterate the van and its 
passengers. There was no let up from the assault as continued sustained 
fire pummelled the van side and drove rips through the metal. It looked 
almost as if the right side of the van was virtually perforated there 
were so many bullet holes. All three of them lay as still as possible 
keeping as flat to the floor as they could. 

Bernie tried to see where the shots were coming from as he looked out
through the abundant holes that let in beams of the morning sunshine. 
He couldn’t make out anything at all. The pain in his shoulder was 
becoming unbearable as blood began to seep through his fingers. Got to 
get out of here, he thought. 

“We’re dead for sure if we stay here,” shouted Anthea over the noise of
the gunfire. She must have been reading Bernies mind. 

“What do you suggest?” replied Jane, “It’s hardly a picnic outside.” 

“I don’t know but I’m not sitting here any longer waiting for a bullet
with my name written across it. It seems that the shots are only coming 
from this side,” she pointed behind her back to the right side of the 
van, “If I try and get out to the other side of the van it should give 
me enough cover to suss out what to do from there.” 

Shifting her body she moved around in the cramped conditions until she
was flat on her back with her feet facing the doors of the van. She 
pulled back both legs and then kicked forward. The doors burst open, 
one nearly falling from its hinges. With agileness Anthea jumped up and 
dived from the van and around to the side. The shots increased now in 
indignation and the doors were awash with holes. They had been under 
continual fire now for a good three or four minutes. They would have to 
stop eventually, thought Bernie, but right now that time didn’t seemed 
to be in sight. He knew that he’d have to follow Antheas lead. He was 
losing a lot of blood and was in immense pain. Soon he would probably 
feel the dizziness and unless he could get his wound bandaged or 
covered in some way to stop the flow of blood then it wouldn’t be long 
before he’d pass out. Bernie had no intentions of laying here to die in 
a pool of his own blood. 

Outside of the van Anthea slumped to the ground in to cover. They were
on a narrow road, thickly wooded on either side. The road itself was 
absolutely deserted and she was sure that it had probably been blocked 
a good distance down both ways to stop any traffic from coming upon 
this nightmare scene. 

The van itself had left the road and hit a tree, hard. The front end was
half the size that it had originally been and the tree was firmly 
embedded in the tangled metal that had once been the bonnet and engine. 
Anthea had moved in to the relative safety of the woods and was now 
about twenty feet away from the van. As she’d done so a countless 
number of bullets had flown over her head and ricocheted off of trees 
around her splintering the trunks and shredding the greenery. She’d 
been very lucky indeed to have escaped unscathed. 

From her present vantage point she could see in to the drivers cab.
Humphreys was dead. Whether he’d been killed from the crash or the 
gunfire was impossible to ascertain. He sat, head down slumped over the 
dashboard, his face crimson, an arm hanging precariously through the 
shattered windscreen. It was a macabre picture to witness and she shied 
away painfully. Peter had been a great friend to many and he had given 
his life for the sake of those friendships. An undignified end for a 
very dignified human being, she thought. 

Bernie wondered why none of the gunmen were actually coming from out of
their hiding places to finish them off. 

“Wouldn’t it have been easier for them to just walk right over and shoot
us,” he said speaking his thoughts out loud. 

“Cameras,” replied Jane still having to raise her voice over the
never-ending din of the guns. “Even here there’ll be cameras on parts 
of the road. They obviously don’t want to be seen. I would say that a 
story has already been put together and I presume that its Burrows 
that’s written it.” 

“Can’t they just knock out the cameras?” Bernie strained. The blood flow
slowing slightly as it clotted over the wound but still the steady 
trickle of red through his fingers continued. 

“Not if they want this incident to be recorded?” 

“What for, posterity?” 

The portentous noise of the guns then suddenly stopped. 

“What do you think they’re doing now?” said Momo in a frightened
whisper. 

“I don’t know,” said Bernie, “But now is our chance, let’s go.” 

The three of them moved fast. Bernie jumped down to the road, Jane
virtually rolled Momo out of the van, detaching the drip at the same 
time, and dragging her along, as she was still tired from the sedation, 
they raced towards the trees. Each for the moment forgetting their own 
individual encumbrances. 

Hardly a second after they’d put their first steps on the ground outside
then did the firing start again. Luckily, as the van was already off of 
the road they didn’t have further than a couple of feet to dive before 
being behind the thick trunks of the now bark splintered trees. One of 
the bullets glanced Momo’s arm but didn’t leave more than a graze. It 
seemed that if there was a God then right now he was on their side as 
they miraculously reached temporary cover. 

Anthea saw them and shouted. They stumbled over to where she was hiding.


“Where’s Peter?” said Jane to Anthea. 

Her answer was straight, “I’m afraid Peter didn’t make it,” there was
nothing more that she could say. They would have to save their grief 
for another time. 

Without further delay they carried on deeper in to the woods, the sounds
of the guns frantically trying to reach them still loud in their ears. 

19 

“I think you ought to take a look at this Sir.” said Cholly to Hapgood
who was taking a cigarette break away from the screens to rest his 
eyes. He’d been sat there scrutinising the pictures and following the 
blue van for the last hour. 

“What is it Cholly?” said Hapgood rushing back. 

“Take a look for yourself Sir.” 

Detective Hapgood could hardly believe his own eyes. On the screen
before him he could see the same blue van that he’d been watching 
avidly. Only now it had careered from the road in to a tree. Its tyres 
were blown out and a hail of bullets was being fired from the opposite 
side of the road piercing the side of the vehicle. Unfortunately the 
way that that particular camera was positioned, there was a bend in the 
road just before where the van had gone off and the camera was fixed 
high up on that corner, it was impossible to see the gunmen. 

“Jesus Christ. What the hell’s going on?” said an alarmed Hapgood. 

“Shall I get on to the chief Sir?” asked Cholly. 

“No, if we do that it’d be another hour before anything gets moving,
there’s definitely something happening here that’s been kept under 
cover for some reason or other, bloody bureaucrats.” Hapgood pushed his 
hands across his face. “Let’s go, we’ll call for back up on the way.” 
Turning to a constable who was monitoring another set of screens he 
said, “You, contact Sergeant Alan Hargreaves, Unit Leader Number 76 and 
tell him to have a unit air carrier available in five minutes.” 

“But..” the young officer protested. 

“Now!” Hapgood screamed, his eyes glaring with rage. 

The officer jumped from his seat in obeyence. 

Hapgood grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair whilst Cholly
jotted down the exact coordinates of the area they’d been monitoring on 
the screen. 

“We’d better move quick on this.” said Hapgood to Cholly. 

“What do you think the chief will say if he finds out were looking in to
this without the proper authorisation.” said Cholly a little nervously. 


Hapgood looked at him, “To be quite frank, I couldn’t care less about
the chief right now. Something isn’t on the level. I’ve been kept in 
the dark for too long on this case. Now I want some answers and I want 
them before the people who are going to give me those answers are 
dead.” 

Before leaving Hapgood turned to take another look at the screens that
he and Cholly had been watching. Instead of the gruesome attack though 
that they’d seconds earlier witnessed the screens were now changed. The 
image had altered completely to a simple black picture as if the 
monitors had simply been turned off. The only evidence that this wasn’t 
the case was a small error message box in the centre of each monitor 
screen. The message read ‘CAMERA MALFUNCTION’. 

* 

Ed Burrows slammed the receiver of the satellite telephone down hard. He
had just been informed that his plan had not gone to plan. He turned 
and looked to Alkman who stood anxiously a few feet away. 

“So what do we do now?” Alkman had heard only one end of the
conversation but had been able to fill in the blanks enough to know 
that something had gone drastically wrong. 

Burrows didn’t answer, he just looked at him. 

“Maybe we should get out of here before Cane finds out what’s happened.”
There was a high level of concern in Alkmans voice. 

Burrows still didn’t answer. His facial _expression was completely void
of any emotion and his shoulders seemed to have slumped. 

“Ed,” Alkmans concern was heading towards panic, “Come on, we’ve got to
do something.” 

Burrows right eyelid began to twitch nervously and he fidgeted
uncomfortably. Alkman started to pace in circles whilst he racked his 
brain for a solution. Burrows still didn’t move from his spot. He 
simply stared out of the large window opposite that filled half of one 
wall of his office. From the window he could see the perimeter of the 
complex. Beyond, the sun was steadily rising over the thick woodland 
that grew ambitiously toward the metal fence that surrounded the 
complex. This was to have been his day of triumph. The day that he’d 
outwit Cane once and for all and take his just rewards. But instead it 
was all falling apart around him. He was finished. Out of the five 
people that had been in the van only one was dead. If the others 
escaped it would just be a matter of time before the whole story got 
out, Burrows wanted a story out but not the one that Jane Griswell 
would be telling everyone, and it would be over for him and Alkman. If 
this went wrong then he’d not only be answering to Cane but to another 
party also. If they were dead as he’d planned, it would all be well, 
he’d have to abort now though. That was his only option. His benefactor 
would have to wait until they could regroup and come up with another 
strategy of attack. 

The whole idea had been to get rid of Jane Griswell and anyone that
chose to sympathise with her. Next would be the release of a 
pre-scripted story to the press that he’d spent so long putting 
together. The cameras covering the area where the transit van carrying 
Jane and her entourage had been set so that only a certain part of the 
story would be recordable. The mystery of who killed them had to remain 
so. If Parkby security forces were seen running across the road and 
then hauling back bodies then too many of the wrong sort of questions 
would come hurtling down the line. The very bones of the operation had 
to be the uncertainty about it all. What happened? Who killed three top 
genetic scientists and why? 

If the real story emerged then it would all have been in vain and
Burrows little windfall would not materialise. In fact he’d probably be 
up for murder. The Government would come out of this tainted because 
watchdogs would accuse them of not regulating the experiments and 
projects of Parkby Life Sciences (in fact they more than regulated 
them, they funded them). Ed knew that Cane would be very quick in 
informing the cabinet of what had happened and that he’d try and worm 
his way in to helping them formulate an escape route. 

It had been made very clear to Burrows that the two organisations for
which he’d decided to betray Parkby to, didn’t want the company to 
close lock stock and barrel. Far from it as this was the place where 
through Burrows numerous amounts of information regards the works going 
on in the laboratories was being leaked from. One of Burrows other 
‘employers’ were in the same line of business as Parkby Life Sciences 
but unfortunately for them even though they had the commercial funding 
they were way behind Parkby in scientific advancements. 

They simply wanted the frighteners putting on Parkby, so to speak, so
that only certain areas were, let’s say, at least set back. These 
certain areas being the development of human cloning. It was strange in 
that both Ed Burrows and Jane Griswell were working towards a similar 
ultimate goal; it’s just that their motives and methods were somewhat 
different. The other player in Burrows game wanted the present 
Government ‘damaged’ in the public eye. ‘Same dog, different fleas’ as 
far as Burrows was concerned, a different set of people after the next 
election but with the same corrupt ideals and goals for greed and 
power. 

Burrows problem now, due to aborting his original scheme, was how to put
things right and save face in front of Cane at the same time. How could 
he stop Cane from blaming him and Alkman for this shambles? 

But why should Burrows take the flak when he had a deputy to rely on?
Why should it be both of them to take the blame? It didn’t have to be 
him and Alkman. Why hadn’t he realised the way out of this conundrum 
sooner? It was so simple. After all, this was one of the few rooms 
within the complex that wasn’t monitored by surveillance cameras. 
Burrows had made damn sure of that. 

Burrows snapped out of his trance and walked over to a tall cupboard on
the other side of the room. Alkman paid no attention to him and carried 
on his pacing. Burrows swiftly opened the cupboard and pulled out a 
small draw. Inside the draw was a pistol and silencer, which he took in 
his right hand. Turning, with his arm raised he pointed the gun at 
Alkman and remorselessly pulled the trigger. Alkman slumped to the 
floor whilst emitting only a surprised gasp, more akin to someone being 
punched in the stomach than shot. Burrows then casually walked over to 
where his deputy lay and fired another bullet in to the prone body, 
just to make sure. 

* 

When Hapgood and Cholly reached the helipad Hargreaves was ready and
waiting for them. He and his co-pilot were already in the cockpit. The 
blades were slowly rotating in ardent anticipation and the sliding side 
door of the large carrier was open for the two Detectives to climb 
aboard. It was a very modern piece of machinery, two sets of blades, 
thirty feet in length and able to carry up to forty men. Much like an 
R.A.F. rescue copter. The police force had twenty of these copters in 
the fleet and Hargreaves was the man in charge. Fortunately for Hapgood 
he was also one of his closest friends who owed him a favour or two. As 
far as helicopters go these carriers were state of the art. Brought in 
to practice only in the last twelve months they had introduced radical 
advancements in the manoeuvrability of police units, being able to 
transport essential manpower to scenes great distances away with ease 
and efficiency. Although they were of great bulk they had been designed 
for speed as well as for carrying heavy loads. 

“So what’s all this about Charlie?” shouted Hargreaves over the loud
whirring of the blades as they began to speed up, readying themselves 
to lift the aircraft from the flat concrete surface of the helipad. 

“Here.” Hapgood passed Hargreaves a piece of paper. On the paper he’d
scrawled the coordinates that he’d taken from the screen of the central 
monitoring system to direct the two pilots to their destination. 

Hargreaves took the paper and got to work. He’d known Hapgood long
enough to know not to ask more questions and to just get on with the 
job in hand. If Hapgood wanted to let him know anything else about what 
they were up to then he knew that he’d be told all in good time. 

Hapgood and Cholly strapped themselves in and swung shut the large metal
sliding side doorway of the copter. The six long, looping blades 
rotated quicker and quicker until they formed a single circular blur. 
Smoothly and effortlessly they were then lifted in to the air and as 
the two detectives peered out of the window in the door they saw the 
central police headquarters rapidly growing smaller and smaller. 

* 

“If there’s one thing that you can be sure of in this world then it is
that you can never be sure of anything.” said Johnathon Cane as he 
finished listening to Ed Burrows account of how his deputy in command 
of security, Alkman, had attempted to totally destroy the work that was 
proceeding at Parkby Life Sciences. 

“So you see,” concluded Burrows, “It seems that I trusted our Mr. Alkman
a little too much for my own good and I feel that we have been very 
lucky to foil his plans before it is too late.” 

“I have to admit Ed,” Cane took a drink from the glass of water on his
desk, “I never did like the man myself.” 

Burrows resigned himself to the fact that Cane, who incidentally hired
Alkman and took great care and effort in taking up his references, was 
not going to accept any responsibility for what had occurred. Or at 
least what he believed had occurred. 

“So what procedures have you taken to ensure that this does not get,
shall we say, awkward?” 

Burrows cleared his throat before speaking. “Well, the unit of ten men
who were under the impression that they were on a termination mission 
have been contacted and reassigned orders.” 

“And for what reason were the unit told by Alkman that they were to
dispose of Griswell and her motley crew?” interrupted Cane. 

“It seems that they had been told that the passengers of the van were
carriers of an unknown tropical virus. Their reason for being in the 
complex was that they had been quarantined by immigration and that the 
doctors here at Parkby had been analysing them with a view to find out 
more about the virus. From this they would build the grounding for 
research in to a possible vaccine. They were then told that they had 
escaped from the complex and the only way of stopping an epidemic was 
eradication of the carriers.” 

Cane sighed uncomfortably. 

Burrows continued, “It’s a plausible story to put together. You’ve got
to remember that our security units here are very loyal and it is 
totally unlikely that any of them would even consider disobeying a 
direct order from myself or Alkman. As I said he was taking a 
back-hander from his outside source, whoever they are, to whom he was 
leaking information also. He presumed that if he offered me a cut then 
I’d join him. Of course he was misguided in his judgement and when I 
turned down his offer and threatened to reveal his actions he pulled 
his gun. Luckily I am always prepared.” 

“That’s very commendable Ed. But the fact still remains at this very
moment we currently have four people on the loose who could cause 
serious damage not only to us but also to the government. If any of 
this gets out then the Prime Minister is not going to be happy, what 
with the election looming. This would finish him off completely. You 
know, he never really recovered from that mistress incident that found 
its way in to the tabloids. ” 

“Don’t worry,” Burrows raised his open palm, “As I said, I have taken
measures and reassigned their orders which are right now in action.” 

Cane leaned forward, his eyes questioning Burrows, “And what kind of
measures exactly have you taken?” 

“The unit have been now commanded to enter the woodland and apprehend
without harm the remaining escapees. Thereupon they have been 
instructed to return them to the complex forthwith, without delay.” 

Cane sighed again. If it weren’t for the extra sedatives that the doctor
had prescribed him earlier then his blood would probably have been at 
boiling point right now. Instead he was calm, cool and collected, which 
was actually a first for him. When Burrows had first entered his office 
and hit him with the almost unbelievable news about Alkman and what he 
had apparently done Cane had been instantly catapulted in to a total 
state of shock. A great many thoughts were racing through his mind. Too 
many in fact, all at once, to be able to put anything into any 
semblance of constructive order and come up with a viable solution to 
this crisis. For a crisis ‘Code Red’ is exactly what it was. There had 
been a major breach of security here and his first thought was as to 
how Alkman had managed to orchestrate all of this whilst working under 
the very nose of his superior, Burrows. Then of course there were the 
ramifications of if the fugitives did manage to escape and spill the 
beans to all and sundry. It would without a shadow of a doubt be 
splashed all over the front pages of every newspaper and magazine on 
the stand. This would be a huge worldwide story if it got out; and Cane 
knew quite well how much information Jane and Anthea had at their 
disposal. Christ, they’d been working at the core of the main projects 
for the past ten years. Shit this was big. He’d have to face the Prime 
Minister and the Cabinet. Maybe it would be better if he just 
disappeared. But then that would instantly point the finger of blame 
directly at him. Saying that though, they would probably blame him 
anyway; he was after all the Chief Executive Office for Parkby Life 
Sciences and part of his job description was Director to Security. 
Burrows may have been Head of Security, but he still had to answer to 
Cane. If this mess wasn’t wrapped up quickly then heads would certainly 
roll, and not just metaphorically. 

It wasn’t until Burrows had finally finished his speech did Cane round
off the conversation and give his response. 

“In that case then,” he said to Burrows as calmly as he could to cover
his inner turmoil, “let us hope for your sake that they are 
successful.” 

“I have no doubt that they would do otherwise Sir.” 

It had been a long time since Burrows had addressed Cane as Sir; and
Cane liked it. Unfortunately at this exact moment that was the only 
thing that brought Cane any pleasure and it wasn’t quite enough to 
match his sense of total unease. 

20 

“I don’t think I can go much further.” Bernie was holding his shoulder
tightly with his hand. There had been no time to stop and bandage the 
wound and he’d lost a substantial amount of blood as well as being in a 
great deal of pain. 

They’d been stumbling their way through the woodland and undergrowth for
the last fifteen minutes since being reunited. Whether the gunmen that 
had attacked the van and killed Humphreys were pursuing them or not, 
they weren’t sure; but they had the intelligence not to spend precious 
time worrying about that factor. If they were being stalked, then that 
eventually would be dealt with in due course. 

The thick trees were close knit and the shrubs and foliage around them
made the going extremely tough. Luckily, even though it had rained 
heavy through the night, the dense leafage above had kept the ground 
almost dry and so their lack of appropriate footwear didn’t bear too 
much of an added hindrance. 

Bernie stopped, leaning against the solid trunk of the nearest tree for
support. He was shattered, after only just regaining his levels of 
energy from loss of blood in the complex he was now right back to 
square one. Only this time there was the shearing pain that ran from 
his shoulder all the way down his left arm. Whilst in the van the 
adrenalin that had pumped through his body had held off the pain and 
with the thoughts of self-survival foremost in his mind he’d almost 
forgot about the very fact that he’d been shot. But now the endorphins 
had given up and he desperately needed to rest. More importantly he 
desperately needed medical attention. 

The other three were in a dilemma. They knew Bernie’s condition, but
they were also well aware that they could not possibly stop. It was out 
of the question. Even two minutes to wrap a torn shirtsleeve around his 
shoulder and put together a makeshift sling could cost them all dearly. 
Possibly their lives. 

“Bernie,” said Jane as she put an arm around his back and lifted him
upright, “We have to keep moving.” Her tone was caring and coercive at 
the same time. There was no way that she was leaving her brother behind 
and there was no way that she was about to let him put them all at risk 
either. 

Momo, now some way back to her full strength, helped Jane with Bernie
and they pressed on with Anthea at the helm pushing aside tree branches 
and wild overgrown bushes. 

* 

Keeping their distance some fifty yards behind, the unit of ten armed
men watched as Jane, Momo, Bernie and Anthea struggled on ahead of 
them. Burrows had had to abort the original plan, reassigning their 
orders and then instructing the men to capture and return the escapees 
to the complex. Before doing so he had also informed them to wait and 
see who turned up to help the renegade quartet. Although Burrows, 
unbeknownst to them, had aided their escape, he was sure that Humphreys 
would have contacted and made plans with someone outside of the complex 
and he wanted to know who that person was. If he could find out whom it 
was that Humphreys had contacted he could then use that person as 
Alkmans fabricated accomplice. 

Of course he had already named Humphreys as Alkmans main co-conspirator
but he now needed another name. He needed someone that may have some 
form of financial contribution or leverage point to add to the 
scenario, make his story a little more believable. From there Burrows 
would be able to form the firm basis of a motive behind Alkmans 
actions. He knew damn well that Cane had his doubts about the whole 
yarn that he’d been spun and the more evidence that Burrows could pile 
up against Alkman the safer he was himself. 

Ed Burrows couldn’t believe what a mess it had turned in to and the
sooner it was sorted the better. As far as Burrows was now concerned he 
wished he’d never gotten himself involved. Corporate Politics were 
definitely not his forte. Of course, he’d had to speak to the parties 
involved in setting up this bungled operation and understandably they 
had been non too pleased with the outcome. Why hadn’t he come up with a 
backup plan, they’d said? Burrows couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been 
to let things go in the direction that they had. He should have been 
more prepared as was his usual way of working. Why, he thought, had his 
only lapse had to come now? 

He only hoped now that there’d be no repercussions coming his way due to
his failure to deliver. These were serious people that he’d been 
dealing with and he’d been assuring them that nothing in the slightest 
could possibly go wrong. 

“Like taking sweets from a child”, he’d told them. 

Oh, how wrong had he’d been. 

* 

“How long before we’re there?” growled Hapgood in to the intercom that
connected him to Hargreaves in the cockpit of the copter. The noise of 
the blades spinning round almost drowning every word he said. He pushed 
his ear as close as he could to the speaker in anticipation of 
Hargreaves answer. 

The voice came through loud and clear. “Should be over the area in about
ten minutes, any chance of at least telling me what I might have to be 
prepared for?” 

Hapgood decided to let him in on some of the details, “Gunfire,” was his
one word answer and not really the answer that Hargreaves wanted to 
hear. 

“In that case,” said Hargreaves, “if you look under your seats you’ll
find a few things that may come in handy.” 

Hapgood unfastened his safety belt and got down on his knees. Under his
seat, and he could see the same under all the seats that lined the 
insides of the helicopter, was a small metal box. He pulled it out and 
quickly flipped up the lid. The box was full to the brim with various 
different items. There were grenades, smoke bombs, tear gas canisters, 
hand flares and also gun fired flares and a gun, a small tank of 
oxygen, a gas mask, mace spray, an electric shock gun the size of a 
cigarette lighter, a net which the instructions indicated could be 
thrown from the helicopter to open out as it fell, as well as a couple 
of other smaller boxes which held no interest to Hapgood. 

From the box he took out the smoke bombs, tear gas and the flares before
retaking his seat and turning to Cholly, “We don’t really want any 
fatalities so we’ll just stick to these for the time being.” 

“What about the backup? Did you radio in?’ asked Cholly anxiously. 

Hapgood smiled, “I think we’d best handle this ourselves,” he said. 

Cholly didn’t look confident with his commanding officers decision. 

* 

“Don’t look back,” said Anthea nervously to the other three without
turning around, “but they’re on our tail.” 

“How do you know?” said Jane. 

“When I looked back a second ago I saw one of them diving in to cover,
about 30 yards or so behind us.” 

“Do you think it may just be your eyes playing tricks? It’s pretty hard
to see anything back there, the woods are so thick.” 

“I sincerely hope that it was just my eyes but I don’t think so. Either
way I don’t think we should be taking any chances by ruling out that 
they’ve been following us all this time.” They’d now been pushing on 
through the never-ending woodland for half an hour since escaping the 
van. 

Momo said, “What do you think they're waiting for?” 

“I haven’t got a clue but there must be some method in the madness. They
must be waiting for something.” 

“Or someone,” said Jane. 

There was a pause for a second before Momo added, “How far away exactly
were we from this clinic that we were heading towards?” 

Anthea, still looking straight ahead and pushing on said, “I don’t think
we were too far away but being in the back of the van I kind of lost my 
bearings a bit.” 

“Do you think they knew about the contact?” 

“To be honest,” Anthea sighed tiredly as a branch snapped across her
face sharply, “I don’t know what they know and what they don’t know.” 

* 

“I’m putting a heat sensor monitor over a square mile area above the
trees,” came Hargreaves voice through the speaker to alert Hapgood that 
they’d arrived not far from the coordinates that he’d been given, “the 
exact location is about two minutes away so we can start scanning from 
here.” 

Hapgood had decided to let his pilot in on a few more details, that they
were looking for a van with passengers and that the passengers may well 
be on the move and under cover of the woodland by the time they got 
there. He hadn’t gone in to too much detail about whom these passengers 
were, except for saying that an armed unit was probably pursuing them 
and that that’s where the possibility of gunfire would come from. 
Having known Hapgood for many years it was exactly the way that 
Hargreaves had expected this little outing to be. 

“It’s going to be impossible to land anywhere, there isn’t a single area
of open space for a good five miles or so.” said Hargreaves. 

“Just let me know if you pick anything up down there,” answered Hapgood.


* 

“We’re within twenty yards of the escapees sir.” Said the unit leader as
he quietly spoke in to the receiver of the satellite communicator that 
he held in his hand. “There seems to be no signs of anyone else, do you 
wish us to apprehend them?” 

Burrows face appeared on the small inch square screen of the
communicator, “How long have you been tailing them since they left the 
van?” 

“Just over twenty five minutes sir.” 

“And what condition are they in?” 

“The three females are fine but the male seems to be quite badly
injured, they are having to help him walk.” 

“Give it another ten minutes and then report back to me for further...” 

The unit leader cut Burrows words short. “Sir, I think we have company.”


Burrows jumped excitedly, his facial muscles tightening in anticipation
of good news at last, “What kind of company?” 

“Sir, I don’t know exactly but there seems to be a large helicopter
above us.” 

“What kind of helicopter, could it be a private charter just on route?”
Burrows didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. 

“It’s definitely not a private charter Sir. It’s holding it’s position
just above the tops of the trees and by the sounds of it, it seems to 
me like a heavy piece of machinery.” 

“You mean military.” 

“Possibly Sir, although I couldn’t be 100% certain.” 

“Okay, keep the communicator turned on so I know what’s happening. I
want you to keep your distance for now. As soon as you see anyone else 
apart from the four escapees, move in and apprehend everyone. Is that 
clear?” 

“Very clear Sir.” The unit leader put the still turned on communicator
in to its belt holder leaving Burrows with audio contact and a limited 
visual view of the scene. 

* 

“I’m getting a lot of activity down below,” said Hargreaves. 

Hapgood leaned toward the intercom, “What are you picking up exactly
Alan?” 

“In total I’m picking up fourteen readings. I have four readings
directly below and a group of ten separate readings approximately 
twenty yards away.” 

“Are they stationery readings?” 

“No, all are moving but very, very slowly.” 

Hapgood turned to Cholly, “Looks like the gunmen are holding back for
some reason.” 

Cholly nodded and said, “Funny how half an hour ago it looked like they
wanted to totally annihilate them and now they seem afraid to get too 
close.” 

“Any ideas?” 

“A change of plan, something gone wrong?” 

“Exactly.” said Hapgood like a teacher complimenting his star pupil,
“Somewhere along the way a spanner has been thrown in to the works.” 

“What do you think we should do Sir? Wait and see what their next move
is?” 

“On the contrary Cholly. I suggest we throw the second spanner.” 

Cholly gave Hapgood a look of confusion. As Hargreaves had already told
them, there was nowhere to land and there was no way that with just the 
two of them that they could even consider an assault in any way shape 
or form. 

“Hargreaves,” said Hapgood in to the cockpit-connecting intercom, “can
you get us directly over the group of ten?” 

“No problem Charlie, we’re in between the two sets of readings presently
so it’ll only take a second.” 

“Tell me exactly when we’re above them.” 

Whilst waiting for Hargreaves word Hapgood got to his feet and took a
firm hold of the handle to the sliding door of the copter. 

“What’s the plan Sir?” Cholly’s tone gave away his bewilderment. He
sincerely hoped that Hapgood wasn’t expecting him to throw out a rope 
and abseil down. 

“Pass me those over here.” Hapgood pointed to the pile of things that
he’d not long since taken from one of the boxes of supplies under the 
seat. 

Cholly obliged and from the items, Hapgood picked out two smoke
grenades. 

“Let’s just add a few obstacles to the hunt and see what happens shall
we.” Hapgood smiled sophomorically. 

Hargreaves voice boomed through the intercom speaker loudly, “Okay,
directly above. What do you want me to do now?” 

“Nothing,” shouted Hapgood back as he stood by the open door, the wind
blowing hard as he held to the side railing with one hand. “Cholly, 
hold on to me just in case.” 

Cholly moved over, held the railing with his right hand and with his
other he tightly gripped the back of Hapgoods jacket. Hapgood then let 
go of the railing himself and pulled the pin from one of the smoke 
grenades. He dropped it; there was a five second delay before 
activation. Immediately he then did the same procedure with the second 
grenade and then reaffirmed his grip on the side railing of the 
wide-open doorway as he leaned out to see the smoke below. 

* 

“What the hells going on there?” Burrows, via the mini-vidlink could see
the thick grey smoke that was starting to envelop the unit. 

“I’m not sure Sir,” the unit leader spoke whilst leaving the
communicator on his belt, “It seems that two smoke devices have been 
set off and I can only assume that they may well have been dropped from 
the helicopter.” 

“Is it still hovering above you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Bring it down!” 

“Affirmative Sir. The only problem is though, that visibility is less
than five feet at present and decreasing. It’ll be like taking pot 
shots in the dark and hoping for a chance hit Sir.” 

“I don’t care,” Burrows was agitated, “Fire as many pot shots as it
takes. I want that copter down. I want it down and I want to know who 
is inside. Is that clear?” Burrows knew that even the weight of a large 
helicopter would have a cushioned landing, of a sort, through the thick 
density of trees being at such a low altitude. He was desperate to know 
who was in league with Humphreys. He was also quite surprised at how 
resourceful it seemed the old Doctor had been. 

“Very clear Sir.” 

Ed Burrows sighed heavily and groaned like an old man. If they got away
he was finished. 

* 

“Anything happening down there?” said Hapgood into the intercom. He and
Cholly had moved back away and closed the sliding copter door shut. 

“The group of ten are stationery and the group of four ahead of them are
still on the move.” 

“Let’s wait around over them for a second to see what they decide to
do.” 

“Fine, just let me know when you want to move.” 

Cholly said, “Don’t you think we ought to call for backup Sir?” 

“To be honest with you Cholly I’m surprised that we haven’t already seen
any backup, aren’t you?” 

Cholly was hesitant to answer, “I suppose so.” 

“It’s not as if we were the only ones to see what was coming through on
the CCTV surveillance camera back at HQ.” Hapgood pulled a face, 
“Something is definitely being kept under wraps here for some purpose 
that is totally beyond me.” 

Suddenly there was a sharp clunking sound on the underside of the copter
followed by a number of more familiar sounding reverberations. 

“I’m moving out, we’re under fire.” Hargreaves blurted through the
intercom. “Hold on tight, I’m going to have to make evasive 
manoeuvres.” 

“Well, we certainly got a response out of em.” said Hapgood almost
pleased with the actions he’d instigated. 

Cholly didn’t reply as he quickly fastened his seat belt and wondered
yet again why he’d never asked for a transfer from working under 
Detective Hapgood. 

* 

“Quickly.” shouted Anthea, looking back to see the plumes of smokes
spreading through the trees at an alarming rate. 

Behind Anthea, still struggling on, Jane and Momo helped Bernie, his
feet dragging as he became more and more wearisome from the loss of 
blood. His face was pale and his head hung dejectedly. It would be just 
a matter of time before he’d pass out. He was mumbling incoherently and 
in desperate need of professional medical attention now more than ever. 


“Do you think that came from the helicopter?” Jane said back to Anthea
as she tried to lift Bernie’s arm further over her shoulder. 

“I think so, but I don’t know why.” 

“Maybe it’s Peters contact.” said Jane optimistically. 

“If it is there’s not much that they can really do to help us. The trees
are so thick there’s no way that they could think of landing down here. 
We just have to keep going.” 

As they moved on they could hear gunshots being fired behind them. Not
sure whether the bullets were being fired at them or at the helicopter 
they pushed forward as resolutely as they could. 

* 

“Charlie.” said Hargreaves in a very serious tone, “We’ve got friends.” 

“What kind of friends?” replied Hapgood in to the intercom. He wondered
if the backup he’d expected had finally decided to enter in to the 
proceedings. 

“Another helicopter, heading this way.” 

“Okay,” Hapgood paused momentarily before saying, “did we take any
damage from the ground.” 

“Just one hit, nothing to cause any concern. It’ll take more than a few
popguns to bring this fella down.” 

“And the other helicopter. What’s it doing?” 

“It’s coming this way at speed.” 

“Try making contact with it.” 

“Already done that.” 

“And?” 

“No response.” 

“Do you think it’s one of ours?” 

“Definitely not.” If there’s one thing that Hargreaves knew it was his
helicopters. He could probably even identify an individual model just 
from hearing the sound of its rotating blades. “Looks to me like a 
private small passenger copter. It’s not close enough yet for me to 
make out. I’ve got it on radar about a mile away and at its current 
speed it’ll be with us in just a few seconds.” 

Hargreaves had moved out of reach of the guns below but was still
strategically placed to hover safely above the trees whilst keeping a 
watchful eye on the heat sensory monitors that were picking up the 
readings of the two small groups on the ground. 

Hapgood didn’t reply to Hargreaves last statement but before he knew it
the door of the cockpit flung open and in marched the determined 
Detective himself. 

“I need to see what’s going on here.” he said. “How close is it?” 

“See?” Hargreaves pointed ahead through the wide oval shaped convex
glass window. “It’s now in view. A small private copter. Able to carry 
up to about eight passengers going by the size of it.” 

Hapgood didn’t need Hargreaves to point it out. The helicopter that was
heading in their direction was almost upon them and didn’t seem as if 
it had any intention whatsoever of slowing down. 

“The fool, can’t he see us?” said Hapgood excitedly. 

“Don’t worry,” Hargreaves calmly jumped in to action, the aircraft
responding to his touch in a split second and shifting to the side as 
the small helicopter stormed past within only a couple of feet from 
collision. 

“Well, who the hell were they?” said Hapgood taking a relieved deep
breath. 

“Whoever they are, they’re coming back this way.” Hargreaves pointed to
the flashing red dot on the radar screen. 

“Does this machine carry any armaments?” asked Hapgood. 

“Sorry Charlie, not this model. I didn’t exactly expect that I’d be
going in to a combat zone when you asked me take you somewhere 
earlier.” 

Hapgood patted Hargreaves shoulder and gave him a look of, ‘you know me
Alan’. 

“Are they coming directly at us this time?” He said. 

Hargreaves scrutinised the radar screen. “No, they’ve diverted from our
line. Seems like they’re looking for something.” They watched as the 
small helicopter moved randomly over the treetops. Eventually it 
stopped and began to hover. 

“Bingo,” exclaimed Hargreaves enthusiastically. 

“What is it?” 

“Look.” Hargreaves pointed to the numerous screens, monitors and dials
in front of him. “Where they’ve stopped, if you match the readings on 
the radar screen with the heat sensor monitor readings.” 

Hapgood got the picture, “So, either they’re the rescue team or the
executioners come to finish the job off.” 

“Do you want me to move in on them?” the helicopter was about thirty or
so feet away. 

“No, stay here. They don’t really seem that interested in our presence
so we’ll just hang around and see what they’re up to. There’s not much 
we could do anyway.” 

Hapgood, Hargreaves and the co-pilot watched as the side door of the
helicopter opened and from inside a crash helmeted man appeared. The 
man then proceeded in being winched down slowly towards the trees. In 
disbelief they watched as he then physically forced his way with hands 
and feet through the greenery and then disappeared out of sight. 
Another likewise crash helmeted abseiler then quickly followed the 
first out of the small copter and down through the treetops. 

“The other group,” Hapgood had momentarily forgotten about the armed
unit, “where are they?” 

Hargreaves looked at his screens. 

“Well would you know it?” 

“What?” 

Hargreaves looked to Hapgood smiling, “It seems your little smoke attack
has done the trick and totally disorientated them.” He pointed out on 
the screen the group of ten small readings that the heat sensor was 
picking up. 

“They’re going the wrong way completely,” said Hapgood astonished. 

The unit instead of going forward had somehow got themselves turned
around by ninety degrees and were actually walking away from Bernie, 
Jane, Momo and Anthea. 

“Look,” said the co-pilot bringing Hapgood and Hargreaves attention back
to the small helicopter. 

One of the men that only a minute earlier had been winched down was
returning. Only now, strapped to him was the limp and exhausted figure 
of Bernie. Bernie was quickly taken in to the helicopter and the man 
was winched down again. As he went back down he passed the second man 
coming back up. He too was carrying someone. It was Momo. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Hapgood was mesmerised as he slapped his hands to
his cheeks. 

From the cockpit of the large police people carrier they watched in
disbelief as the two remaining escapees were rescued from the forest 
floor and hauled up in to the small helicopter. The door of the 
helicopter was closed and they were off as quickly as they’d arrived. 
It had been an extremely professional and clean job to say the least. 

“Right,” said Hapgood rubbing his hands, “Let’s see where they’re off to
in such a hurry.” 

* 

“What the hell’s going on down there, I can’t see a thing!” Burrows was
desperate for information, all he could see through the small screen of 
his unit leaders communicator was dense smoke. The response was most 
definitely not the one he’d wanted to hear. 

“We seem to have lost them Sir.” The unit leader had dreaded having to
pass on the bad news to Burrows. 

“Well keeping looking, they can’t be too far away. For Christ’s sake one
of them’s being virtually carried it’s not as if you’re chasing Olympic 
sprinters.” Burrows was not going to accept defeat on this one. 

“Sir.” the unit leaders voice was despondent, “It seems that we were
moving in the wrong direction through the smoke. When we came out of it 
we’d lost them. Whoever was in the helicopter must have been here to 
aid their escape.” 

“I thought I told you to bring down that damn helicopter.” Burrows was
starting to lose control of his temper. “There are no excuses for 
failure, do you understand?” 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Well get on and find them!” he was virtually climbing through the small
communicator screen, his thick veins bulging around his neck, his face 
in a rage. 

The unit leader turned off the communicator and reattached it to his
belt. 

In his office Ed Burrows sat in his chair, drank a glass of water and
began to think about his options realising in all honesty that he had 
very few. 

* 

“What’s happening Alan,” said Hapgood frantically as they began to lose
sight of the other helicopter. 

They’d been pursuing it for the last five minutes and ever so slowly
Hargreaves had noticed that it had been gradually moving further and 
further ahead of them. With its huge size there was no way that 
Hargreaves in his people carrier could match the speed of the much 
lighter aircraft. Even without a full capacity of passengers it was 
impossible. He’d pushed it to its limit and there was nowhere else to 
go. 

“It’s just too fast for us Charlie,” Hargreaves scratched his beard in
annoyance. “I can only keep them on radar for five miles then we’ll 
lose them completely. I can’t do anymore.” Hargreaves tone was one of 
dejection. Just the same as his old friend Charles Hapgood, Alan 
Hargreaves wasn’t the kind of person that liked to leave a job 
unfinished. 

In frustration and unison both men sighed heavily. From the spacious
cockpit they then watched in disappointment with themselves as the 
helicopter carrying Bernie Torme, Momo Templeton, Jane Griswell and 
Anthea Harding gradually shrunk from an identifiable object, to a 
barely visible black dot on the horizon, until finally it had 
disappeared to nothing. 

21 

Not for the first time in the past few days Bernie awoke to find himself
in unfamiliar surroundings. For all intents and purposes he was in a 
hospital of sorts. His first belief being that he was back in the 
laboratories of Parkby Life Sciences. It was only when he jumped and 
found himself not strapped down or incapacitated in any way that he 
realised he wasn’t. 

“Bernie.” A voice, recognisable but feint. 

Rubbing his eyes Bernie looked over to see Momo getting up from a chair
that she’d been sat in by the end of the bed. 

“Bernie, it’s fine now, we’re safe.” 

Could he honestly say that after what had happened and all they’d been
through that he could believe those words? He wanted to and so for now 
he would take solace in this statement. 

Momo stood now by his side and with gentle force she placed both hands
on his shoulders urging him to lay back down in the bed. He didn’t need 
coaxing. Bernie was deathly tired and happy to reciprocate Momo’s 
request. 

“It’s okay now,” Momo continued, “We’re safe.” 

As quickly as he’d awoken Bernie then fell again in to his slumber, the
words ‘we’re safe’ swirling in his mind as he drifted off in to a much 
needed dream state. 

When Bernie next opened his eyes next he was in the same clean,
bleached, white hospital-like room. This time though he didn’t wake up 
with the same startled and frightened feeling as he had encountered 
earlier. He looked up to find Momo still there; she herself was sat in 
the same chair, her head bowed as she calmly slept. The door of the 
room then abruptly opened and Momo opened her eyes, raised her head and 
looked at Bernie with a smile. 

Through the door into the room that had just opened came Jane closely
followed by another man. Jane stood back whilst the man in a fine, 
perfectly fitting suit stepped forward. He had a kind face, thought 
Bernie, with a strong aura of trust that seemed to emanate from his 
eyes. He was confident and obviously in some form of authority by the 
way that he strolled over to stand beside the bed. It was hard to put 
an exact age on him but Bernie surmised him to be in his mid fifties 
and he had worn well with it. 

“Hello Bernie,” he said, “You’ve lost a lot of blood but I’m sure with
the amount of sleep that you’ve had and the drip,” he pointed to the 
side of the bed where an intravenous drip stood with a thin tube 
running down to Bernies arm, “should be helping.” 

“Where am I?” That was all Bernie wanted to know. He looked to Jane for
an answer but it was the man before him that replied. 

“You are in my clinic.” He paused as he straightened his posture and
held his arms wide as he showed off the room. “In this place you are 
safe, rest assured. Security is at its height and getting in and out of 
here is, due to my patients needs, well....let’s just say that no-one 
gets in without my say so and no-one leaves with a fanfare.” His tone 
and level of voice was calming in itself. He was also the kind of man 
that smiled whilst he spoke and not in a smarmy manner but the smile of 
a genuinely good person. 

Bernie sat himself up in the bed as best he could. Momo moved forward
and helped him. 

The man continued, “My name is Dr. Hans Cleef.” 

Bernie had thought he’d picked up an accent but in his soft voice it was
almost indistinguishable. 

“This is where my friend Dr Peter Humphreys was bringing you, before,”
he stopped and breathed deeply obviously strained by the loss of a 
friend, Bernie noticed a slight twitch on the Doctor’s face as if 
covering his feelings, “before the chain of events soured drastically.” 


That was certainly one way of putting it Bernie told himself. 

“So how did you find us?” asked Bernie his voice a little weak. 

Dr. Cleef breathed again deeply before speaking. “Thankfully, Peter was
able to get a message through on his mobile phone just before you were 
attacked. He told me how far away you all were. The plan was that the 
van would be dumped and my helicopter team, which is usually used for 
ferrying clients too and from the clinic, was sent out to collect you. 

“We were still speaking when,” Dr Cleef stopped, he rubbed his face with
his hand, “Peter was such a clever man, this has been such a waste of a 
life.” 

“I couldn’t agree more Dr. Cleef,” Bernie had to say something and felt
quite guilty that he hadn’t shown Humphreys enough respect when he was 
alive and helping them. 

“Anyway,” Dr. Cleef carried on, “we have a very professional team of
ex-army special operatives who handle all my security measures. I have 
also at my disposal the latest in technology to accomplish such a level 
of security. My patients pay top dollar for the inconspicuousness that 
I am able to provide and I spend it wisely. 

“It was this team of mine that tracked you down so quickly and brought
you safely here.” Dr. Cleef had a sort of stern campness about him; he 
seemed the sort of character who would bring harm to no-one. 

For a second there was silence before Bernie interjected. “And what
happens now?” 

“We have wheels in motion, do not worry yourself,” said Dr. Cleef. “You
will stay here for a few days whilst things are organised and to recoup 
your strengths. Your friends,” he turned and looked at Momo and Jane, 
“have concerns to which I need to address. But for now get your self 
some more sleep and we shall speak again later.” 

“Thank you.” said Bernie. 

Dr. Cleef and Jane then unhurriedly departed from the room. Momo stepped
up to Bernie’s side and took his hand in hers. 

“I have to go too Bernie but you’ll be fine won’t you.” 

Bernie tried his best to look calm and relaxed as he smiled at Momo,
“I’ll be just just fine.” 

Without another word Momo then left the room and Bernie was alone. 

* 

Ed Burrows sat at his desk. It had all gone wrong and he knew that Cane
would hold him accountable in full. Once again Burrows would be the 
scapegoat. He looked at the gun on his desk. It was the same gun that 
he’d used to dispose of his deputy, Alkman. Was this the answer for 
himself he thought. How could it have come to this? 

Burrows had three options, he could sit and face the music, he could run
or he could simply say goodbye to it all. As he sat deep in thought his 
train of contemplation was rudely interrupted by the flashing red light 
of his telephone telling him that his secretary had a message. 

“Yes?” he said after pressing the red button to allow his secretary to
speak to him. 

“A message from Dr. Cane,” she paused before continuing, was she toying
with him the same way as Cane probably would do? “He’d like to see you 
in his office straight away.” 

Burrows didn’t reply he simply buried his head in his hands and said “Oh
shit.” 

* 

“What the hell do you think you were doing Hapgood?” His highest
superior had met Hapgood as he stepped down on to the solid concrete 
surface of the helipad at Police Headquarters. Hapgoods commanding 
officer was furious beyond description as he stormed toward Detective 
Charles Hapgood ready for a confrontation. 

As he came face to face with the returning Detective he was met with his
response. Hapgood punch the man squarely on the chin sending him 
reeling backwards and in to a heap on the ground. Shocked, he stayed 
down and looked up at Hapgood who now stood over him hovering like a 
boxer waiting for his opponent to get back to his feet. 

Hargreaves and Cholly quickly rushed over to stop the situation getting
any further out of control than it already was. 

“Charlie,” said Hargreaves. “Don’t do this.” 

Hapgood looked down at the shocked and frightened man by his feet. He
then quickly, in an almost single motion, pulled both his badge and gun 
from under his jacket and threw them down defiantly onto the floor. 

“Hapgood?” said the prone commanding officer, his voice somewhat shaken.
“What’s the meaning of this?” 

“What’s the meaning?” Hapgood voice almost growling, “I would have
thought that the meaning of this would be quite obvious, or are you 
even more stupid than I’d given you credit for. I quit.” 

22 

5 Months Later 

From the 45th floor coffee shop of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government
Building the view was fantastic. So much more as it was a sight that 
Bernie never believed he’d lay his eyes upon again. Little had changed 
since the last time he’d stared out through the great windows that now 
encased him. The neon lights still shone with equal vigour and the 
images that flashed across the huge electronic advertising screens 
still pampered to the needs of a people cloaked in tradition yet 
desiring new stimulations and changes with every passing second. 

For a few minutes he let his mind wonder aimlessly as he stared without
focus out across the city. Blocking out the raucous chattering of the 
other people in the coffee shop he thought back to what he and his 
friends had overcome. His shoulder still caused him problems from time 
to time, sometimes a feeling of numbness and then at others a shooting 
pain that would surge from his wrist and along the entire length of his 
arm. Dr. Cleef and the other doctors had done their best to remove the 
bullet, realign the broken collarbone, repair the nerve endings and he 
was thankful to them. 

In hindsight he was a very lucky man and his experiences had left him a
much more selfless soul. When you’ve been so close to death, he thought 
to himself, when you’ve been so close that you can almost touch it, you 
can practically feel it, then and only then, that is when you’re able 
to understand totally how valuable and priceless is life. There was a 
quote that he remembered from way back, he seemed to remember it was by 
Woody Allen. It went, ‘I’m not afraid of dying, I just don’t want to be 
there when it happens’. He wasn’t sure if he felt the same about the 
latter part of the quote but he was certain that he wasn’t in the 
slightest bit afraid of the ultimate end. 

His companions in the escapade too had survived whilst bearing a few
scares, although theirs were more psychological than physical. The loss 
of a dear friend to Jane and Anthea had been hard enough, but not being 
able to pay their last respects had been a greater blow. After being 
rescued by Peter Humphreys very resourceful friends everything had all 
seemed like a complete blur. How he’d found them they didn’t know the 
exact details but from what Dr. Cleef had told them, Peter had managed 
to get a last message to him as he lay dying in the cab of the smashed 
van. His body, battered and bloody, his only thought the safety of the 
friends whom he’d committed himself to unconditionally. 

Dr. Cleef had shown them the ‘technology’ he had at his disposal for
transport to and from his clinic. The people that came to be treated by 
Dr. Cleef had a lot of money to spend and the good doctor was all too 
happy to take it from them. 

Peter’s friends along with other acquaintances with a desire to help the
cause had arranged everything; firstly a safe route from England to the 
Continent. Anthea still had a lot of friends from her time working for 
aid agencies that were able to help with safe passage. From there, 
they’d been bundled from place to place by different people, all part 
of one long and connecting chain of like-minded individuals. Eventually 
they’d found their safe haven, Japan. That’s where it ended. Now they 
could finally rest. They said nothing to anyone up to this point about 
what had happened to them. Jane’s story was still a secret and they 
were sure that Cane had spent the last 6 months sweating and in a state 
of paranoid nervousness. 

So here he was, Bernie. Waiting. Waiting to finish one saga. A closure
that would set the ball rolling for a chain of events to put in to 
motion a second stage. Maybe Johnathon Cane and Ed Burrows had believed 
that the silence of the last six months had meant that they were safe 
Bernie thought. But far from it. He wondered what had actually come of 
Cane and Burrows. He knew that after what had happened then security 
measures would have been looked at and Parkby would have had a 
‘restructuring process’. Certain people would definitely have had to 
have taken the flak to shield others. Nothing as far as news features 
had come out through the media in regards to Parkby Life Sciences, the 
Government and of any connection to the immoral work that had been 
going on in the laboratories. It was a story that had to be told 
though. The world had to know. Some would care; some would be outraged 
and some disgusted. Some would remain neutral and some would be too 
embroiled in their own personnel problems that they wouldn’t give it a 
second thought. Whatever their opinions they had the right to know. 
Jane and Anthea had put everything they knew down on paper and Bernie 
had his story too. 

Bernie then turned as he heard his name being spoken. He looked to see a
young man, Japanese. Under his arm he carried his soft leather 
briefcase. In each hand he held a coffee, one of which he held out to 
Bernie. He took it gratefully and they each took a seat at a table by 
the window. There was no privacy here but that didn’t matter. The man 
placed his briefcase on the table and from it he brought out a small 
mini-disc recorder, and a laptop computer. The fact that they were not 
meeting in any secret location would draw away from it being anything 
else than a couple of old friends or business colleagues meeting for a 
chat and a coffee. 

Bernie took a sip of the hot coffee before putting the cup back down,
then casting a tenacious glance at his guest he leaned forward in 
ready. 

“Shall we begin?” he said to the young Japanese journalist. 


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