They had hauled the bloody corpse out from among the stacks of wood. It lay on the ramp before the main doors of the warehouse, under the harsh glare of the flood-lights. A dark pool had already formed around the furred hump, while it waited for the garbage collectors. A knot of black uniformed City Rapid Response troopers stood around the body. They were awaiting the order to load up the transports with their gear. Behind mirrored visors, the entire squad was grinning. The operation had turned into a bit of a joke, although the owner of the warehouse complex wasn't laughing. He stood by the mobile command centre, parked across the entrance to the yard. He was waving his arms wildly, all the while shouting and yelling about damage to his property, and about suing the City Council for compensation. The Squad Leader wasn't amused either, having to endure the owner's rant, while remaining polite. Jake wasn't laughing either... Because the joke was on him. Inside, he was burning with rage. The stinking animal had tricked him. The filthy, rotten, stinking creature had played him for a sucker. One of the troopers squatted down beside the body. He removed the suppression collar from around the neck of the genetically enhanced Watch-Dog. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Bare foot, Shenna stood anxious and afraid in the middle of their little apartment. Her toes were curled tight, clinging to the threadbare pile of the red carpeting, as though clinging to life itself. One of Jake's denim shirts was draped over her shoulders. It hung on her frame like a sack, open at the front to reveal a generous bosom. The hem was tucked into the waist band of a knee length, red skirt. Untidy blond hair framed a face lined with weary resignation. The tracks of tears glistened on her cheeks. She looked a mess; but there remained among the wreckage more than a hint of the stunning beauty which had made her a hot property, much fought over by the pimps, when she had been whoring down on Lantern Street. She and Jake had met in one of the seedier drinking dens. It was not exactly a romance made in heaven - just two damaged minds complimenting each other. She had been defeated by her own inadequacies, an inability to comprehend the sheer ruthlessness of the people around her, the cruelty of life in general, and the hopelessly vulnerable situation in which this had stranded her. Jake was still running from the nightmare of self-discovery during his last active service. He had been seeking some kind of redemption, and thought he had seen the path when he had looked into Shenna's blue eyes. The terror he saw there had lifted him from his despair. It was her very helplessness which had attracted him. Willy nilly, he had taken her under his wing. The pimps soon learned that she was to be left alone, that Shenna was his property. So they had become united in their mutual need. She for protection against the incomprehensible cruelty of the world, and he a way to atone. They had married a month later, and moved into this residential unit near the port. At first, the rooms had seemed a palace to Shenna. She had owned nothing before this, neither the expensive clothes in which they had dressed her for her work, nor even her own body, which they had put up for auction every night. She had been a commodity to be bought and sold for the profit of others, a mere thing without self determination or self worth. It was the strength of Jake which had made her look up from the dirt at her feet; but in doing so, she had caught a glimpse of an unimaginable splendour of an ordinary life beckoning to her over his shoulder. Now, she could not but see the residential unit for the shabby hovel it was. Still, it had bee home to her and Jake; and she had been happier, in as much as that word held any meaning for Shenna, than she could recall. Now, that happiness was under threat. Jake was going away to chase his personal demon through the woods. She was to be abandoned once more to the cruelty of the wolves who hunted through the streets of the city. "Please, Jake," she pleaded in a tiny voice. Her beautiful hands moved restlessly at her waist, toying fretfully with the cheap fabric of the shirt. "Why, Jake? Can't you just tell me why?" "It's something I have to do," Jake said. His voice was hard. He did not even look up from the equipment he was packing. He squatted in a patch of sunlight, the black uniform tunic covering his powerful form gleaming darkly. His dark hair was cut short in the regulation army style. "What about our baby?" Shenna asked, playing her trump card. Her hands gave up their aimless movement to cup her swelling abdomen protectively. "You can't abandon our son for... for some stupid grudge just to hunt down some animal. It's not even your job now anyway, now that it's out of the city. Let the police deal with it. I need you here... Your son needs you here." Jake paused in checking his assault rifle. He looked up at her. For an instant, Shenna's heart leapt at the fierce passion shining in his eyes; but then she realised that it was not for her. He was looking right through her, not seeing her anguish at all, his attention on some vision of insupportable horror playing out inside his head. Shenna's heart clenched. The moment stretched out. Then with a sharp motion, Jake slammed home the magazine into its slot. There was a finality about the action which drew a little moan of despair from Shenna. The game was lost. In a daze, she watched the anchor of her life swing up the packs onto his broad shoulders, and walk out without a backward glance. A few minutes later, Shenna heard the transporter roar off down the street. She stood there for a long time, peering around at the rickety furniture, at the threadbare carpet, at the shabbiness she could no longer close out of her mind. Then she hurried into the bedroom, where she began to drag out the contents of a wardrobe. Clothing, boxes and all manner of junk flew in all directions, until at last she straightened, holding up a small, brightly coloured packet. She had promised Jake she would never use the gum any more; and she had kept that promise, hard as it had been for her. Every time she felt the need getting out of control, she would nestle herself into his arms, and hold on for dear life until the craving abated. In as much as she was able, Shenna had been faithful to him and the fragile fabric of their life together; but Jake was gone. She had seen the light of madness in his eyes, and knew that he would not come back until his demon had been slain; and when his demon had been exorcised, he would no longer be the Jake she had come to love. He would need her helplessness no longer. It was all over. She felt the cold certainty of it deep in her bones. The smell of the gum was making her mouth water. Hard as it had been, she had kept faith with Jake; but he had proved a false God. So she would return to the only other God in whom she had ever placed any trust. The gum had never failed her, never failed to take away the pain of life... At least for a while. Hastily, she fumbled the wrapping off the gum, letting the bright scrap fall from uncaring fingers. The smell of the gum filled her world; it made her drool. The smooth feel in her fingers sent a shiver of anticipation through her. She put it in her mouth, and began to chew. After such a long abstinence, the sudden rush of the drug entering her system made her giddy. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. She continued to chew savagely, working out the anger she felt at Jake for his betrayal. As the toxin spread through her body, their baby began to kick out in its distress. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Like a beautiful nymph, Bella rose from the refreshing water of the mountain stream. The early afternoon sun, slanting down between the pines, made her tanned body glow. Droplets of water beading her skin sparkled, making it look as though she was bedecked in diamonds. She grabbed up the mane of hair plastered to her shoulders, wrung out the water, twisted it into a rope, and tied a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Then she scrambled up among the boulders edging the stream and pulled herself onto a flat rock, where she sprawled on her back. She spread out arms and legs to allow the breeze access to every part of her body. She sighed, enjoying the caress of the air on her skin. Overhead, a bird sang, while below, the stream chuckled and gurgled about the boulders in its bed. Bella settled her head more comfortably on the bundle of clothes Mouser had foraged for her. Groping around with one hand, she grabbed up one of the fruits they had picked together that morning. She bit into it. The sweet juice spurted and ran over her face and neck. Bella grinned, and licked the juice from her lips. Life was good. Life was just as Shamba had promised it would be, when they had dreamt of it, curled up together in the cheerless concrete caves of the Dalek base. It wanted only for mother to be here to make everything perfect. A bright yellow butterfly with black wing tips was suddenly dancing in the air before her face. Bella held her breath, entranced as it settled on her nose. The butterfly's delicate antennae waved in the air. It's feet tickled as it clambered down onto her mouth. The proboscis uncurled. Gently, the tip kissed Bella's lips as the insect fed upon the sweet juice smeared over them. Bella's eyes closed. The bird stopped singing abruptly. It commenced to chitter in alarm. A shadow went over the sun. Bella's eyes snapped open to see the point of a spear at her throat. At the other end was Mouser, staring down at her. The grin, which had replaced the look of alarm on Bella's face, faded slowly as she took in Mouser's expression. What exactly it meant, Bella was unsure; but it scared her. The spear flickered, and was withdrawn with a fruit impaled on the blade. Mouser squatted beside Bella, took the fruit from the point, and bit into it. She chewed slowly, staring into the south. She seemed troubled. Alarmed by Mouser's unease, Bella pushed herself into a sitting position. She drew up her legs, hugging them to herself. The day had grown suddenly chilly. "What is the matter, Mouser?" she asked. "We are being hunted." "Hunted!" Bella exclaimed. Her eyes darted around at the trees. She saw nothing of the hunter. Her gaze came back to Mouser. "Where?" Mouser gestured with the half eaten fruit. "Somewhere over there. About a mile." Mouser sniffed the air, then flashed her fangs. "Yes... About a mile to the south." Bella stood up and lifted her face to the breeze. She sniffed loud and long. "What animal is it?" she asked, when she could detect no scent of the creature. "I can smell the pines. I can smell the earth, but..." "It is an ape," Mouser answered. "It stinks of the city. It smells of oil, and leather, and weapons and of our death. The ape has been tracking us since we left the city." Bella put her nose into the breeze again. She sniffed; but no matter how much she sampled the wind, she could detect no trace of the smells Mouser had identified. "I can't smell it," she was forced to admit at last. Glancing down, she saw Mouser studying her with that disturbing expression again. Bella shivered, her feelings of unease growing stronger. Until this moment, she had known only joy in this wilderness existence. Through a seamless succession of summer days, they had wandered among the pines, while Bella lived her fondest dreams. Life had been almost perfect; and now this... "Gather up your things," Mouser commanded suddenly. She rose. Without waiting for Bella, she leapt down from the boulder and moved quickly away into the trees. Bella grabbed up the few scraps of clothing. She did not bother to put them on - she only wore then when the cold and wet got too much to bear, or when they travelled through dense vegetation. Her skin was far too tender to take continually scraping through rough plants and thorns. Hastily, she scooped the rest of the fruit into the bundle, and leapt down from the rock to chase after Mouser. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Her breath coming in ragged gasps, Bella tore through the widely spaced trees, desperately trying to keep Mouser in sight. The hunter was going at what was for her an easy lope; but for Bella, the pace was crippling. They had been constantly moving for the last four days. Mouser had maintained this same pace; and Bella was coming to the end of her strength. It was all that stinking Ape's fault. Before Mouser had spoken of the hunter, they had moved through the forest at a leisurely pace. Most days, the sun was well up before they uncurled from their cosy nest. They never travelled more than a few miles before Mouser would pause in some glade and show Bella the best places to dig for juicy fungi or fat grubs. Sometimes, the halt would be to gather greens or sweet vegetables, or to spend an hour at a thicket picking berries. Often, during the afternoon or early evening, Mouser would make a kill of a deer or some other small animal. Later in the evening, the meat would be roasted over a fire. The smell would make Bella's mouth water. Afterwards, she would curl up with a full belly against the furry warmth of Mouser to sleep until late the next day. All that had changed abruptly. Since Mouser had told her by the stream of the ape which hunted them, Bella was often forced to sleep hungry. At other times, she had to chew raw meat when Mouser refused to light a fire. Bella's grinding teeth were ill-suited to the task. After a miserable night of fitful dozing, Mouser would shake her awake before sunrise. There was seldom any breakfast. Calling for Bella to come after, Mouser would lope away between the mist shrouded trees, like a ghost through the pre-dawn gloom. And it was all that stinking apes fault. She wished Mouser would just kill it. The shame she had felt at first entertaining such unworthy thoughts had faded somewhat in light of her present discomfort. Bella wished with all her heart they could go back to the pleasant life of wandering among the pines. Far ahead, Mouser was fast vanishing among the trees. "She's leaving me behind," Bella wailed. Gripped by a sudden panic, Bella redoubled her efforts to keep Mouser in sight. Her foot caught under a root. She sprawled headlong into stinging nettles, and could not quite stifle a howl of pain. Springing from the nettles, whimpering in distress, she snatched up the bundle of clothes and plunged on after Mouser. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Mouser and Bella crouched among the roots to the lee side of a magnificent Pine; but big around as it was, the trunk gave little protection from the swirling wind. A particularly violent gust made the canopy of pines moan. A deluge of rain drops spattered against Bella where she crouched, pressed against Mouser's side. She felt utterly wretched. The itching of the stinging nettles from her fall earlier was driving her mad. The soaked shirt and jeans were clinging unpleasantly, and gave little protection against the summer storm. Lightning flashed. There was a short pause, then thunder boomed, sank almost to silence, before rising and rumbling away across the drenched forest. Bella cringed, and curled herself closer against Mouser, burying her face in the wet fur. Mouser glanced down at her. An anguished expression crossed her face at the cubling's evident misery. For Mouser, it was just another summer storm. She was quite indifferent to the wind and thunder. The icy chill of the downpour came as a relief after the heat of the day. The warmth was particularly oppressive, because she was so badly out of step with the season. It would be several months before she shed her winter pelt - just in time for the winter. This was the reason why she had been taking things so easy. At least, this was what Mouser was telling herself. It was a lie, of course. The truth was that, despite her Highland practicalities, the Dalek conditioning, and despite even her High Dale Pride which had made a Goddess of indifference to suffering, she had allowed herself to be touched by the cubling's misery. Mouser slid an arm around the shivering form, and pulled the cubling between her legs. Cradling Bella in her arms, she pressed the frail scrap of life to the warmth of her furred body. With their pursuer so close, there was nothing more that Mouser could do to ease Bella's discomfort, for she dared not light a fire. Another flash of lightning lit up the gloom. The pause before the thunder was longer this time. Already the rain was slackening, the wind dying away. Bella pushed herself away from Mouser, and peered up into the heavily fanged face. "Why don't you just kill the ape?" Bella asked. Then she darted her gaze away, ashamed. It was a question that should not have been asked. She knew why Mouser would not kill the ape. She waited to be cuffed for her petulant outburst; but it was a strangely tentative hand which fell upon her shoulder. "I cannot kill the ape," Mouser said, regret in her voice. "It can be no threat to us. To kill it would be unworthy of a true hunter of the Highlands; but... I do think it is time we did something to discourage that foolish ape." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "Please let me do it," Bella demanded. There was an edge of suppressed excitement in Bella's voice, which sent a chill of disquiet down Mouser's spine. Mouser gave the cubling a hard look before saying firmly, "no." The pair were standing in a small clearing. Between them on the carpet of pine needles lay Jake. He was bundled up in a tangle of fibres. Except for a heaving chest as he fought for breath after his futile struggling against the net, he was laying still. Bella's expression darkened. "But I want to kill it. It has hunted us and failed. Its tribe has slain my mother, Shamba of the Long Pine. It is my right by the Lore of the Highland. The ape fell to my trap. Its life is mine. I want what is mine." "No," Mouser repeated. "Why not?" "Because we are not going to kill it," Mouser said. "There is no honour in it. It is a helpless Terran Ape. It can be no threat to us. Wee are the last of the Tribe of the Bok; and we will not sully the honour of our Tribe by slaying wantonly." She jabbed the spear at the ape to underscore her words. A stab of fear shot through Jake at the motion. He had no idea what the pair were jabbering about; and he thought his time had come to join the boys he had deserted at Pondo Seven. "Please," he appealed to the girl in the filthy shirt and jeans; "don't let it kill me." Bella ignored him. "But Mouser... I want to hear it scream." "Tell the ape," Mouser commanded, ignoring bella's petulance, "tell the ape that when the rain comes this evening, it will be able to free itself from the net. Tell the ape to give up this hunt. It is folly. It cannot kill us. Tell it to go home." Bella scowled, then a sly expression crept onto her face. She glared down at the frightened ape and said, "I'm going to kill you, ape, do you hear me? Your blood will answer for the murder of my mother, for the death of Shamba of the Long Pine. I'm going to get a great big rock and smash in your head - oww!" Bella staggered back under a blow from Mouser's paw. She sat down heavily on the carpet of pine needles, her head ringing. "Tell the ape!" Mouser snarled. "Tell the ape what I said." She swung the butt of the spear at the stunned girl. Bella scrambled out of range. She got to her feet, and made an Acknowledgement of Authority. In a sullen voice, she relayed Mouser's words; but all the while, her eyes were blazing with suppressed fury. When she was done to Mouser's satisfaction, the Ogron took her by the wrist and hauled her off among the trees. Watching them depart, Jake felt a great relief wash over him. The stupid animal had even left all his gear behind. He chose to see it as the action of a mindless beast - not the act of contempt he knew, deep down, it really was. He lay still. There was no sense in tiring himself out. If what the kid had told him was true, all he needed to do was wait. It was late afternoon to judge from the angle of sunlight. Already in the east, the clouds were bunching in great white billows. There would be rain before midnight. He didn't hear the girl's return. Twilight was thickening among the trees; a gentle drizzle was falling; and Jake was experimentally flexing his muscles to see how much give there was in the ropes, when in turning his head to one side, he caught sight of a pair of bare feet. Looking up into the girl's face, the appeal for help died on Jake's lips. It was something about the eyes. He had seen that same manic expression in the mirror too often not to recognise it - it was the taint of madness. Jake wet his lips, and thought he might try anyway. After all, what did he have to lose? "Hey, kid, you gonna get me outa this net?" he asked, his voice carefully light. As though his voice had spurred her to action, the girl spun about and moved off a few yards. She knelt down to drag up something from the forest floor. Rising, she strained to lift a jagged flint. Clutching the stone to her chest, she stumbled over towards him. Jake waited no longer. He began to roll frantically across the forest floor. In moments, he had fetched up against a tree. He looked up to see the girl looming over him. She hefted the rock. He yelled a curse at her. The rock came down. Jake writhed aside. The rock thudded into the ground beside his head. The girls scream of frustration was cut short as Jake lashed out with his bound legs. He caught her just above the ankles; but his movement was so restricted that the girl was only knocked off balance for a moment. Jake took the opportunity to roll away. The girl scrambled to her feet, heaved up the rock, and came after him. Jake tumbled and wriggled through the sparse underbrush. He was a superb physical specimen; and the girl seemed intent on using that particular rock, heavy as it was; but even so, it was plain he could not evade her much longer. The girl came on, remorseless, staggering under the weight of the flint. Her face was a stony mask, the eyes shining with murderous intent. His situation was getting really desperate. Jake gave an extra violent heave; some of the fibres parted; and one of his hands came free. Sudden hope leapt up; but a moment later his legs tangled in some branbles; and he was held fast. The girl stumped up to him, raised the rock up to chest height, and threw it down at his head. Jake screamed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Mouser stood on the lip of the gorge, staring down the steep way among the pines. Even after Bella's murderous attack on it, the ape was still coming after them. It was cussedly determined. She had not yet seen it today; but the breeze had carried it's stench to her hours ago. With Bella at her side to confuse the scanners, it posed no real threat to herself in this terrain. The ape would not even catch sight of her - unless she decided it should. For all Mouser cared, she would have been content to let the ape flounder around in the pines until it grew tired of the chase, were it not for Bella's fragility. Because of that fragility, Mouser had decided, at first, not to saddle herself with the cubling. She had felt no obligation to look to Bella's wants. It was only after exiting the warehouse that Mouser had been forced to change her plans. The sewer she had marked as a bolt-hole emerged into a filthy alley. Mouser abandoned the cubling to grope around in the darkness, while she had retrieved her cache of weapons - a couple of knives, a spear and a bow. Mouser had soon discovered that the place was ringed in with some fairly competent soldiers. They were not a match for her wilderness sharpened senses and hunter's instincts, of course; but that lack was more than made up by their technological weaponry. She tried at several points to breach the contracting cordon without success. Obviously, there were scanners in operation. Time and again she was driven back into the alley where she had emerged with the cubling. After the fifth fruitless foray, she realised that they appeared to lose track of her every time she got within a hundred yards of the alley where she had abandoned Bella. Something there was providing screening from the scanners. It had taken her only a moment to realise that it was most likely the cubling. So, she had brought the cubling with her to make a test; and her suspicions had been immediately confirmed. The next attempt went better. Soon she was through the cordon and away, carrying the cubling on her back as she ghosted through the night time city. In two hours, they were into the countryside beyond. Once clear of the city, she had intended to take her chances with the scanners; but dawn brought an amazing revelation, which undone all Mouser's resolve. After Bella got a good look at her black pelt and golden eyes, it was clear that she would never be left behind. Mouser's misgivings had faded under the cubling's ecstatic elation at finally finding her Tribe. So, Mouser had brought the cubling with her. With every passing day, it had grown harder and harder to contemplate abandoning the cubling. Bella tried so hard to keep up that it broke Mouser's heart to watch her floundering. It was not too long before she could not regard Bella without seeing Angelica struggling to keep up through the snowdrifts on the dash to Sanctuary. This growing affection had been tempered somewhat by Bella's shamefully dishonorable act in trying to kill the ape. The insane ferocity of the attack had shocked Mouser back into her original disquiet, because it was plain to see that the cubling was obsessed with a desire for an impractical vengeance upon her own kind. This estrangement of Bella from her people troubled Mouser on many levels. Down in the gorge, a large brown bird exploded into the air, and whirred away among the trees. A second later, Mouser caught sight of the ape. There was an assault rifle slung over one shoulder. A bulky pack hung from the other. Half of his face was obscured in the windings of a field dressing. An irregular stain of blood darkened the stark white material. The ape was coming on with a purposeful stride. He was determined, she had to concede that. She flashed her fangs. It was time she tried a different strategy to discourage the foolish ape. She uprooted the spear, picked up the freshly killed carcass of a deer, and set off through the pines. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Jake awoke with a start from an intense dream of Shenna in her red dress. She was sitting among flowers in a summer garden, gazing longingly at him. A mist of blond hair floated in a gentle breeze, framing her lovely face with a golden halo. She seemed to be calling to him; but he could not quite catch her words. These dreams had begun soon after the little savage had tried to cave in his head with a rock. They were growing more vivid and intense with each passing day, bringing in their wake intense loneliness and longing for Shenna. With an effort, he pushed the feelings back down, while cursing silently at his own stupidity in falling asleep. He made a swift check of the sensor net console. The diagnostic routines insisted that the unit was functioning normally; but as usual, nothing was showing up. Yet his nerves were all a-tingle. There had to b something. When he was operating as a Death Commando, such mysterious warnings had saved his life many times over. He listened hard. The only sound was the dawn breeze sighing in the pines sheltering his dug-out. Carefully, he eased himself up to peer out at the morning forest. Dazzling light from the just risen sun was making the uneven forest floor into a confusing pattern of shadows. He saw it instantly. Three feet in front of his hide-hole, spot-lit by a shaft of sunlight, was the carcase of a small deer. It had been skinned, gutted and spitted, ready for the cooking fire. In Jake's skewed mind, the message implied in the "gift" could not be plainer. He held is life only upon the sufferance of his quarry. A sane man would have felt fear. Jake had not been sane for a long time, not since his own personal disaster at Pondo Seven. Not content with trapping him, and shaming him by freeing him, the beast was taunting him further. It was intollerable - the stinking animal was actually taunting him again. A sudden, incandescent fury exploded inside him. Long after the magazine was empty, and the tattered remnants of the deer carcase had stopped jerking, Jake's scream continued to echo among the pines. --------------------------------------------------------- A half a mile away, Mouser paused, listening to that scream. She flashed her fangs in consternation. She might not understand the sly, hissing language of the apes very well, but she could read that scream like she could read the forest. The ape was going to be trouble. She turned her gaze to Bella, who was a hundred yards off among the trees stumping gamely along trying to keep up. Next, Mouser's thoughtful gaze went to the snow covered peaks. Alone, Mouser would have thought nothing of retreating higher up; but she already knew that Bella was not suited to even this soft country of the lower slopes. The cubling would be in serious difficulty if they went higher, up among the barren slopes above the snow line. Bella had the heart and soul of a true Daughter of the Highlands; she had all the determination and will to go on; but she had none of their stamina or sheer toughness. Bella did not even possess the fragile toughness of the apes. This she might have gain given time; but that scream told Mouser time was running out for them both. As the last echoes died into silence, Mouser made a decision. Settling her few bits of gear more comfortably, Mouser jogged back to Bella, swung the cubling up onto her back, and turned her face towards the snow covered peaks. -------------- Mouser clambered up onto a boulder, and sat down cross-legged. From this height on the shoulder of what she had named High Dale Peak, she could see the sea in the far distance. It was like a rippling blue cordon hemming in the world. She glanced down. Beyond the border of dark pines, the woods clothing the lower slopes looked like a carpet patterned in reds and gold. She sniffed the air. Winter was coming. She would be forced to go lower soon. A blade keen wind, whistling over the barren slope, brought her the sound of a wheezing cough. It came from the shallow cave where the cubling was sheltering from the icy blast. The coughing fit went on for half a minute, before dying away into a thin whimpering. If it was only herself, Mouser would have remained on the heights and braved the cold; but even with the warm clothing she had provided for Bella, the cubling would not survive a winter at this height. It was already a daily struggle for the cubling to get enough breath in the thin air. They would have to descend soon. Down below, the ape would be waiting. Mouser knew that, as certain as Snarles in winter. The ape was as mad as Bella. She would have to deal with it, if either of them were to see the Spring. She ought to just slay it and be done; but thorough as the Dalek conditioning had been, Mouser could not force the intention past the dead hand of her High Dale Pride. To kill the ape would be an act of unimaginable dishonor, doubly so as the ape was not sane. In truth, Mouser had not retained much from her youth in the Highlands, not her Tribe, not her innocence, not even her name. Perhaps, she mused, it was this estrangement which had made her cling so desperately to her outworn code of ethics. It was the only thing which made her feel closer to the Highlands, closer to a home she longed for with all her heart, but which she might never see again. Another bout of wheezing coughs came to her. She flashed her fangs in consternation. Were she to have any hope of that dream of return, she knew she must not let this high country kill the cubling. -------------- Far off in the benighted forest, a night hunting bird called mournfully. Mouser's gaze snapped up from the spearhead she was honing. Her eyes gleamed in the fire light as she peered into the darkness among the trees. She scented the air. Detecting no immediate danger, she relaxed. A wet coughing drew her regard to the cubling across the fire. Bella was bundled up in the tatters remnants of a woollen overcoat. She looked wretched. There was an unhealthy palor to her skin. Greenish slime ran from the corners of her eyes, down the side of her nose. Bella had long since stopped wiping it away. Ever and again, the cubling was wracked by coughing. She shivered constantly. That the cubling was dying was obvious; what Mouser should do about it was not. If she did nothing, they would both die. There was only one thing which Mouser could think of that might save the cubling; but if she walked that path, then she herself must die. She pondered upon the dilemma, while her hands stroked the stone along the blade of the spear. She found the rhythmic sound soothing as she sought some other way out of the problem. It did not take long to come to a decision, for no matter how she walked around the problem, it was evident that it had only one honorable solution. It was time for them to part company. More than a week had passed since Mouser had quit the heights, carrying the half-dead cubling down the steep ways to the lower slopes. Mouser had hoped that the warmer air and better food would revive Bella's ebbing strength; but the cubling seemed to be getting worse by the hour. "You should go to your..." Mouser started to say, then faltered into silence. She knew all too well how much those words would hurt; but she had to say something. "To the apes," she finished lamely, knowing that the oblique words would be no kinder. For a long, awful moment, Bella stared at her over the merry flames, her eyes full of an unsupportable hurt at this betrayal. Mouser could not accurately read ape faces. Even so, it came as no surprise when Bella let out a low moan, and swayed to her feet. Abruptly, she turned and lurched away into the darkness. The overcoat slipped from her thin shoulders as she stumbled away among the trees. Mouser sat a while listening to Bella moving away, the sound of her laboured breathing growing fainter. At last, Mouser flashed her fangs. They gleamed orange in the firelight. She rose, took up the spear, and trailed the cubling into the darkness. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Gasping for breath, Bella hauled herself onto a branch high in the tree tops. Faint and trembling from the exertion, she stood up. A coughing fit threatened to send her plunging to the ground forty feet below. She clung onto a branch, while the fit exhausted itself. It had been madness to drag herself up into the tree-tops; but she had always found high places comforting in times of crisis. She had been driven to her present taxing exertion by an overwhelming desire to hide herself from the awful realisation of Mouser's betrayal. She needed the quiet to regain some control of herself, and to think. Why that moment of sudden insight beside the fire should have hurt so much, Bella could not fathom. For weeks now, the bitter truth had been seeping into her heart. Mouser's growing exasperation had been plain to see. It showed itself in her body language. Where Mouser would not voice her feelings, they could not be hidden from Bella, for though she was wholly a naked ape, her mind was attuned entirely to the Ogron. Mouser's veiled contempt had been remorselessly forcing them apart. The growing distance had opened suddenly into an unbridgeable gulf with the matter of the netted ape. The hunter had thrashed her savagely for disobedience in going back to finish it. Bella had hardly known what she was about. She had been in a trance of murderous rage, from which she had been started by a blow from Mouser's paw. Mouser's coldness towards her afterwards had hurt much more than the savage beating. It hurt even more than the seemingly constant cold and rain. The physical hardships of the last few weeks had already shattered her dellusion of a life lived free and happy under the Pines. The knowledge of how singularly unsuited she was to this wild existence was a frightful thing. It made her shrivel inside. There was little left of the shining joy of her original dream - save that she was still with her Tribe; and even this last remnant of her happiness was to be denied her. In the distance, the lights of a town of apes made the low clouds glow orange. All she had to do was to walk down to the town to never again have to endure the physical discomforts or the veiled contempt of Mouser; but in her Ogron soul she did not want any of what the orange glow represented. All around was the dripping darkness of the woods, the fulfillment of the life she had lived through her dreams in the Dalek base. She had wanted to live that life with all of her being; and the dawning realisation that she could not, broke her heart. For a long time after the decision was made, she stood in the tree and wept bitterly for the loss of something she now understood she had never truly possessed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Bella half scrambled, half fell down the bank onto the paved road. After a moment to catch her breath, she looked up and down the ape-made avenue between the trees. A hundred yards to the right, the lights in the windows of an ape dwelling shone brightly in the gloom. She looked back to where she knew Mouser would be. She saw nothing. Softly, the Farewell Chant of the High Dale drifted to her from the deeper darkness further back under the Pines. Bella made to respond; but a coughing fit doubled her over; and when she looked again to the darkness among the trees, it was too late. She knew that Mouser had gone. Forcing back tears, Bella turned towards the lights. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Jake thumped the steering-wheel of his transport in frustration. He had been sitting in the parked vehicle for hours, staring out at the benighted forest, embroiled in a furious argument with himself. The burning need for redemption was warring mercilessly with his growing need to see Shenna. How he missed her, the way she looked in that red dress, the way her hair fell in golden waves, the smell of her, the way she looked at him all helpless and afraid - yet trusting him utterly, the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her - he had to know her again. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- By the time Bella was nearing the house, Mouser had already moved far enough to be beyond the influence of the Dalek sensor suppressor in Bella's left buttock. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- At last, Jake's overwhelming need for redemption through revenge submitted sullenly to his powerful longing for Shenna's company. He snatched up the useless Sensor Net Console, rolled down the window and made to hurl the piece of junk into the night. Then he hesitated. One final try, in memory of the boys who bought it at Pondo Seven. No matter how he longed for Shenna, he still owed them. He flicked on the sensor net console. It was giving out a steady range and bearing. The distance was increasing at a respectable fifteen miles an hour, about the speed of a Dalek trained Ogron trooper making good time on foot. Jake's heart leapt. He banged out of the transport, slung his rifle and headed off among the trees. Every fifty yards his eyes darted to the read-out screen on the unit to check that the contact was still registering. All the while he prayed to whatever god might be listening that the signal would not die on him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Bella paused in the small yard before the house. The door was there before her. It was just a matter of going through that stupid knocking ritual; and it all would be settled. It was at that moment that realisation came to her fevered mind. Mouser had given the final leave-taking of the Tribes, the farewell between those who knew they would not look upon each other again this side of the Grey Mists. In sudden horror at the realisation, Bella spun about and staggered towards the roadway. She knew it was hopeless. Mouser would be travelling fast now that she was not burdened with the care of a helpless ape cubling. There could be no hope now of catching up to Mouser in the wilderness. Bella burst suddenly into tears, and began to run screaming Mouser's name. It was hopeless; she knew deep down that it was hopeless; but she had to find Mouser again. No matter what, She would not let herself stop searching until... She ran straight out into the road - just as a transporter, headlights blazing, came swinging in through the gate. The near side wing clipped Bella in the hip, spinning her into some branble bushes at the side of the yard. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- It was night. Jake lay prone on a rocky ridge nestling the assault rifle to his shoulder. The rain had stopped hours ago; but water continued to drip steadily from the sullen pines. With unerring accuracy, the chilled droplets found the exposed skin of Jake's neck. He barely noticed. All his attention was focused through the gun-sight at the tree cluttered valley. Soon, soon the beast would come from among the trees; and he would get his chance to purge his soul of the guilt for his cowardice at Pondo Seven. He would finally be able to let it all go, and get on with the rest of his life. His eyes flicked to the read out on the Sensor Net Console. Just another hundred yards... A vision of Shenna in her red dress swam suddenly before his eyes. A terrible longing gripped him. His eyes stung. Angrily he blinked away the stinging sensation . Yes, he wanted Shenna and all that she would bring into his life, wanted it more than he could really comprehend; but before he could enjoy that reward, his demons must be slain. A flicker of movement refocused his attention through the gun-sight. With the light enhancer cranked up full, the forest presented a picture, bright as day, painted in shades of grey. His heart leapt as adrenalin pumped into his system. His finger caressed the trigger. He waited for the beastie to come fully into the open, savouring this moment of final release. At last the demon of guilt, which had harried him without mercy all the way from Pondo Seven, could be put down. His finger closed on the trigger... --------------------------------------------------------- " I hate them! I hate them! I hate them!" The sound of Bella's scream of rage split the air of Dora's private office. Dora was sitting in the darkness, listening yet again to a recording clip from the collar sensor. After a three month "total submersion" course in the Ogron languages, she had a good grasp of the dominant dialect. Even so, she had to concentrate hard to get the meaning from the obscure Highland variant. Enough of the meaning got through to give Dora some understanding of the reasons for Bella's deeply ingrained hatred for her own people. Dora shook her head sadly. It was going to get a whole lot worse for the child, so much worse, before all this was concluded. The inevitable outcome of this present mess was going to drive Bella even deeper into herself. The recording clip ran to an end. The refined quiet of the Regis Estate settled once more in the room. Dora sat a long time in silent contemplation. There was something that could be done. There was something she herself could do to put this at least partially right; but ought she to do it? The people of Earth owed this child, of that there could be no doubt. Nobody else would care. Nobody else was going to do anything; but was it for Dora Regis to try and make restitution for the wrongs? The point was moot. She knew the answer. Her hand snaked out to the manual keypad of her comm unit. She pressed out a number. The screen glowed faintly as the connection was made. "Yes?" came a curt, male voice. "Rudi?" Dora inquired. The screen came on to show a man's face. Brown curls flopped boyishly over a high brow. His eyes were brown. A neat moustache darkened his upper lip. His classically handsome features were just now blighted by an agitated frown. "What do you want?" he demanded. "I'm very busy, you know." "It's the middle os the night," Dora pointed out. "I didn't know you were that conscientious?" The man's fine mouth tightened into a thin line. His sigh was raspy with irritation. "What do you want, Dora?" "Just to talk to you." "We have nothing to say to each other." The man's voice was laced with bitterness. "You made that abundantly clear the last time you were over." Dora drew in a deep breath. "Rudi, If you still want me, I'll marry you." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Rudolph Stinz had everything - and nothing. He was tall, lean and handsome, and enjoyed robust good health; but these attributes counted for nothing at all in this age of advanced bio-engineering. He had a high-profile job in the Justice Ministry, for which he cared nothing, and for which he was entirely unsuited. He owed his position to his status as a son of the Stinz Clan, and the influence of friends. Those "friends", who had arranged his appointment, had not done so out of the kindness of their hearts. There was not an ounce of kindness in any of them, in any part of their anatomy. Indeed, it was in serious doubt that they even had hearts. The job came with a large and tastefully furnished office; but Rudolph had no appreciation whatsoever for the object d'art strategically positioned around the space. The view of Baskerville Park from his office was truly breathtaking. However, the reason for his present breathing difficulties as he stared out at the city, was for a completely different reason. That reason sat in one of the plush leather armchairs enjoying the subtle lines of an original Neemeinnoni statuette in veined marble. Unaware of where Dora's attention was wandering, Rudolph continued to stare out the window, singularly failing to appreciate the aesthetically pleasing view, while he struggled to get himself under control. Now, now he had everything, Rudolph told himself; except, of course, he still had nothing. A tiny smile flitted across his lips; but he did at least now have hope. That was more than he had last night before Dora's call. His mind still marvelling at his good fortune, and still looking for the catch, Rudolph turned his attention from the view through the window. He resumed mixing the drinks on the little side table. This done, he took up the shiny, round tray and took a deep breath. He knew the happiness of the rest of his life rested upon the outcome of this interview with Dora Regis. Whatever she wanted, and he knew her well enough to know that there would be something, he was resolved to give it to her - and to hell with the consequences. With his mind made up, his nerves steadied. He turned an d moved the couple of steps over the priceless, hand-woven carpet to his desk. Putting down the tray, he took up one of the chunky tumblers and offered it to Dora. She noted without expression this little extra courtesy; but the implied intimacy in the simple action made her smile inwardly. She was not surprised when their hands touched as she accepted the glass. She had him exactly where she needed him, but then again, she always had. Dora rewarded him with a pleased smile, and took a sip of the exquisite spirit. Her eyes twinkling with amusement, she watched him seat himself in the other chair. He was studying her over the rim of his glass, while he sipped his drink. Dora smiled inwardly at the sudden flash of panic as he realised he was at the end of the formalities, and that now was the crunch time. Dora just waited. She might have helped him out; but she felt that as he was to receive from her his heart's desire, he really ought at least to do some of the work. It would be good practice for him. At last, he managed to speak. "I don't understand?" "Understand what?" "This, this sudden change of heart." "I never said I would never marry you, Rudi." "But you have never given me any hope in the past. In fact, on more than one occasion, you have made it plain that, that you have no feelings for me." Dora took a sip, and rolled the expensive liqueur around her mouth before replying. "That's not true," she stated. At his puzzled look, she added, "what I said was that I do not love you. Not that I have no feelings for you. There is a difference." Rudolph snatched at the tiny sliver of hope implied in Dora's words; but he was far from convinced. Almost fearfully, as though alluding to his fears might focus Dora's mind upon them, and cause her to re-think her intentions, he asked, "so this isn't to be just a marriage of convenience?" The studied casualness in his tone was painful. There wasn't so much as a smidgeon of sadism in Dora's character, which might have made her tighten the knife in his vitals. There was, though, a great capacity for physical affection, perhaps more than was quite decent for a lady of her social rank. Her innate playfulness gave a very loose rein to her affectionate nature. She set the tumbler down on the corner of the desk, rose, and slid onto Rudolph's lap, straddling his thighs. She took the glass from his unresisting hand. Putting the glass to her lips, she took a long sip. Her tongue came out to slide sensuously over her lips. The tongue left a playful smile in its wake. With a suggestive motion, she set the tumbler on the desk, where it clinked firmly against her own. She gazed into his eyes. In a husky whisper, she asked, "oh, Rudi... whatever gave you that idea?" Before he could gather his wits enough to frame an answer, or even realise his relief, Dora leaned forward. She reached out, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him. After the first shock of surprise, Rudolph's arms snaked around her back, drawing her plump softness against himself. The kiss lingered a long time; but, at last, they were forced to come up for air. Dora moved back a few inches. Her breath whispered against his lips, fragrant with the fine liqueur. He wanted to breath it in, suck it down deep into the heart of his being, hold it there forever. The desire made his cheeks flush; yet his cresting joy was clouded with a bitter knowledge. "What do you want, Dora?" he asked, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Dora did have enough decency to look contrite. "I want you to commute the death sentence on an Ogron female," she said. "I know you have the authority to do something like that." Rudolph raised a quizzical eyebrow, regarding her thoughtfully for a long moment. "It's that illegal resident who killed those two rats down by the space field, isn't it?" Dora nodded. "And for this, you are prepared to spend the rest of your life married to me?" "Not just for that," Dora said. "I will have to marry at some time, and produce a legal child at some point if I want to keep control of my portion of the Regis fortune. There are only so many suitable candidates; and for a million and one reasons, it's far better it should be you, Rudi." "But you don't love me?" "No," Dora admitted; "but have I not already made it clear that I fully intend to be a proper wife to you, Rudi, to fulfil all and every obligations to our marriage - public and private, with a proper wifely enthusiasm?" Her right hand drifted down into his lap, where it commenced a gentle massage of the bulge it discovered there. "Is it so important that I love you as well?" she asked, watching her hand play. "If it is, Rudi, then this is not going to work." Rudolph thought a moment - but only for a moment, because his situation in general, and life in particular, had fashioned him into a master of compromise. "I suppose not," he admitted; but the reluctance was only for show. Dora leaned in and pecked him on the lips. "Cheer up, Rudi," she urged him gently. "You know that you have more than enough love to keep any relationship between us afloat. And just think a moment, Rudi... The Heiress to the Regis Clan joined in wedlock to a Son of the Stinz Clan - it'll be the Society Wedding of the century." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Rudolph Stinz felt a little prick of irritation as his diary alarm beeped. He sighed, and tore his gaze from the view of Baskerville Park. Ever since Dora's visit three days ago, he had spent hours gazing out the window, literally. The park had changed in some subtle, yet fundamental, way; but try as he might, Rudolph was unable to say exactly how. It just looked... Different?... Beautiful?... He sighed again. All this mulling on the park was getting him nowhere; and the work was piling up. With a great effort, he wrenched his thoughts away from the trees decked out in their autumnal glory, and moved to the desk. The "Helping Hands" file was awaiting his attention. It had been awaiting his attention since Mallow, his ruthlessly efficient secretary, had deposited it on his desk after Dora had left. Rudolph re-seated himself behind the grand desk. He flipped off the alarm. Taking up the folder, he opened it. Sliding out the memory card, he weighed it in his hand a moment before pressing it into the slot in the desk. The windows darkened. A section of wall opposite the desk glowed to life. Lines of text began to scroll up the wall-screen. Rudolph ignored them. It really didn't matter what was in the memory card; the decision was not his to make. From what he did know of the case, which was precious little given his total disinterest in the workings of the Legal Code, was that the "Helping Hands" charity had a solid case in law. They had taken out an action against the Ultimore Corporation, who were fronting for the Regis Clan, for illegally appropriating their very valuable free hold properties in the Tankanko Ward. Their legal right counted for very little. "Helping Hands" might have the right of it in law; but they had none of the power required to enforce those rights. The Ultimore Corporation had no legal rights in the matter; but they did have the power - because they owned Rudolph Stinz - heart and soul. For one ghastly moment, thinking that Dora would not like what he had to do, Rudolph gave serious consideration to taking a legally appropriate decision on the case. His heart was suddenly pounding. His hands grew slimy with sweat. He stamped that dangerous impulse down hard. Not giving himself time to think, he entered the "required" decision, and closed the file. At that exact moment, his private vid-phone line jangled, announcing an incoming call. Rudolph started guiltily, feeling like a naughty boy caught with his hand in the biscuit barrel. He took a moment to calm himself before flipping on the phone. The unrealistically handsome face of Jason Regis faded up on the screen. His mop of curls shone like spun gold. A boyish smile lit up his beautiful grey eyes. "Rudy, you sly old dog! I've just heard the news from Dora. It's about time you took that wayward sister of mine in hand... and gave her something more appropriate to think about than all that "good works" nonsense." Jason's gaze suddenly narrowed with suspicion. "What did she want?" Rudolph swallowed, suddenly fearful for his promised happiness. "Nothing," he lied. Jason's expression hardened. "Really? That does surprise me. Rudy, it'd better not be anything to do with the Tankanko Ward Redevelopment Project?" Rudolph resisted the urge to squirm in his chair. "No, no, nothing to do with the Project," he assured rather too quickly. "In fact, I've just this moment signed the refusal of leave to appeal so there will not be any legal entanglements for the Clan over the... ah... somewhat direct methods used to effect the removals." Jason scowled. "It was necessary to clear the ground quickly. Those Helping Hands trouble makers and that ridiculous residents association were in the way. You know it was necessary that we come down on them hard, Rudi, and break a few heads. It was regrettable, of course; but an example had to be made. They were holding up the entire project. For my money, they deserved everything they got." Rudolph nodded. "I know," he agreed. "And it looks like your suspicions about the Helping Hands being a front for Norinco was right; but Dora..." Irritation flickered across Jason's God-lie countenance. He said, "you know as well as I, Rudi, that Dora is far too tender hearted. She just doesn't understand the need for the strong measures we sometimes have to employ in the business arena. Truth to tell, I really didn't want to deal so hard; but it was necessary to stop the Norinco Corporation from undercutting our bid by shipping in those refugees from Sector Seven to labour- up the project." He paused a moment, and put on a face of studied thoughtfulness. "So, if it wasn't the Tankanko business, what then? There must be something? Dora is a manipulative little minx." "Oh, it's nothing really... Just Dora being tender hearted again. She just wants me to commute the death sentence on some illegal resident Ogron that ran wild in the Karn Brook Ward and killed a couple of street rats. There'll be no trouble; they were only street rubbish. There's nothing at all in the case which touches on the interests of the Regis Clan." Jason frowned. "All the same, Rudi," he said slowly, "best not to involve Dora in anything illegal. I really don't think it's a good idea to misuse the law in such a petty manner. You won't do it, of course, will you, Rudy?" Rudolph's hart sank. What could he say to a direct command, all dressed up fancy to resemble a polite request? Jason could ruin him with a single word, ruin the Stinz Clan just as easily. "Of course not," Rudolph assured quickly. The taste of defeat was bitter on his tongue. Then his mood brightened at a thought. Suppose the beastie stayed free until after the wedding? There really would be no need to tell Dora about her brother's petty meaness in the meantime - was there? ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "A difference which makes no difference... Is no difference," Rudolph whispered to himself as he watched Dora moving among the crowds thronging the Old Flower Market. The market was a large area crammed with stalls, roofed in by a dome of tinted glass, which let in a glaucous light. The thickly perfumed air hummed with the noise of a thousand voices echoing under the dome. "A difference that makes no difference is no difference," Rudolph repeated to himself, this time with more conviction, finding that he could truly believe. She might not love him, but she had agreed to marry him, and was intent upon being a proper wife. Dora had pledged herself to this; and he had faith in his fiancee. Dora was his fiance. Rudolph smiled; he could not help himself. "His fiancee -" He allowed the word to whisper through his lips, savouring the sweet taste of it upon his tongue, while he watched, fascinated, as his fiancee bustled about among the stalls at the head of her entourage of retainers. They trailed in her wake, doing a passing impression of a fifth wheel, having little more to do than carry bags and note down information. Dora was personally seeing to the arranging of flowers for their wedding. As she bustled about from stall to stall, she was exchanging a lively banter with the stall holders. Her body guards, supposedly mingling discreetly with the crowds, stood out like mountains on a plain. They were quietly wetting themselves with apprehension. Their charge seemed incapable of understanding that her life may be in danger in a place frequented by the common people. Why the part proprietor of the Regis Clan could not just simply delegate these tasks to her vast and highly efficient staff they could not understand, nor why she had to transact her business in this vulgar market and not one of the higher class emporia run by one of the Premiere Trading Clans? It was all a scandalous affront to their notion of propriety. Dora floated about in a happy daze. She was in her element among her fellow man. She was, Rudolph thought, utterly radiant; and it had nothing to do with the light streaming in through the tinted glass dome. Rudolph smiled again. All these common people, all this noise and bustle, all this vibrant life going on here under the dome, it fascinated him. In the past, he had spared little thought for the lives of the common and poor. Indeed, he had known very little about them, having only gazed upon them from afar, or through the smoked glass of his limousine. Now, now he felt a great fondness for all of them, because his Dora loved them. It was like Baskerville Park all over again. He had looked upon those trees every working day since taking up residence in the Justice Ministry building; but he had never really seen them at all until that day when Dora had come to his office and told him she would marry him. Now, although he looked down upon that same scene, those same flowering trees, the view was somehow entirely transformed. He could not say exactly how. He was, however, simply content to enjoy this new perspective. Most men he knew, if they even deigned to have involvement in such woman's fripperies as the arranging of a marriage, would have been waiting with varying degrees of impatience, toleration or indulgence according to their level of emotional involvement; but Rudolph felt only a sublime content as he watched Dora giving as good as she got in a good natured slanging match with a burly stall-holder. Much to his surprise, Rudolph had flung himself into the thick of the preparations for the coming wedding. It felt good to "get his hands dirty" right along with Dora, attending personally to the many, many matters to be arranged in such a significant Society wedding. For the first time in his life, he was deliriously happy. His phone rang. Automatically he answered it. Jason Regis's face popped into being before him. The expression on his face sent a shiver down Rudolph's spine. A terrible dread made him tremble. Before he could speak, Jason said, "hi Rudi, have you heard the news? A Trap Team has bagged that renegade Ogron." --------------------------------------------------------- Jake emerged from the police building into a grey afternoon. An aimless sort of rain was pattering down from a sullen sky. The air felt chilly. Winter was coming. He paused at the head of the steps to fold the black-leather overcoat tighter about himself, and to watch the people scurrying along the street. For a while, he lingered on the steps thinking about where his life was headed, and the events of that last day in the forest. Unknown to him, a Trap Team had been moving in for the snatch. They had used a flash grenade to stun the beastie. Only the automatic shield on the light enhancer had saved Jake from blindness. Even four days later, Jake still had spots of colour obscuring his vision. The interview with the police had not gone well. They had stripped him of his job in the Rapid Response Team. Well, he'd expected that much at least. There were dark mutterings of court actions, if and when they could think of some charges which might stick. In the meantime, he had to wear a collar. Jake lifted a hand to touch the metal band about his neck. They had also extracted an undertaking from him to attend at the psychiatric clinic run by the Sisters of the Shining Source. The penalty for non-compliance with the collar would be an indefinite incarceration at the local funny farm. He had failed to kill the beast. For the want of half a second, he'd have gotten off the shot. So, he'd failed to exorcise the disaster of Pondo Seven. He wanted to feel cheated; but somehow, he just couldn't seem to work up the enthusiasm. A faint smile edged onto his lips. Somehow, somewhere in the forest, the nightmare of Pondo Seven had lost its power over him. The pale faces beseeching him, hands reaching out for help he could not give, the blood spattered corpses of his comrades in tumbled heaps as he ran away, had been smothered by the dream of Shenna in her red dress. He knew now, with more certainty than he had ever known anything before, that as long as he could hold the vision of Shenna in his head, hold her body pressed close to his, feel her arms about him, see the utter trust and love, just for him, shining in her face, he knew that he would make it. It would not be easy, or anything like perfect; but as long as he had Shenna... hey! they would both survive. Jake shoved his hands into the pockets of the coat, went down the steps into the rain, and headed off up the street, a vision of Shenna in her red dress beckoning him onwards towards the future. The streets got dirtier and meaner as he left the city centre. Soon he was threading his way through the cramped alleys of the residential ward near to the Port. It was early evening, with the harsh sodium street lamps coming on, when jake arrived at the economy residential block where he and Shenna had set up home. It was at best a flimsy fortress to keep out the despair. He went in through the broken entryway, stepping over a narco-gum addict passed out in a pool of her own vomit in the foyer. The sight of the drug ravaged girl awoke a sudden fear in him. Shenna was a narco-gum addict. He took the steps two at a time, a sudden and terrible fear driving him up the stairwell through the stench of stale urine. Arriving at his door, he slapped his palm on the ident plate. The moment the air-tight seals on the living unit popped, he knew that the beautiful dream was over. He slammed the panel aside and blundered into the hallway holding his breath against the smell, that oh so familiar stench which had haunted him since the nightmare at Pondo Seven. --------------------------------------------------------- Rudolph Stintz sat for a long time, staring through the windshield at the distant glow of the City after the AI had parked the car. He had dismissed the chauffered limousine and taken the red tornado sports, intending to drive himself; but he was in such a dire emotional state that the AI had taken control. Without having to be told, it had brought him to The Red Mountain Wilderness Reserve, and parked under the pines at Lookout Point. It had long since logged this place as being the location most favoured by Rudolph, when his body's vital signs were in their present, disturbed configuration. At last, Rudolph gathered himself enough to slide out of the sporty vehicle. He walked down the sloping lawn to the paved terrace at the cliff's edge. Ignoring the line of benches, he went to the parapet wall and leaned upon it. The cold in the stone bit into his palms. He gazed out at the lights of the city. Like a galaxy of stars fallen from the sky, they burned in the distance, defining the unseen monster made by the hand of man. The spectacular panorama of lights wove a cloak of beauty to hide a great ugliness. He had been fouled by that ugliness; and it had tainted his soul. Above and behind him, the wind made a sour sound in the pines. The cooling air, falling down the mountainside, was sharp with the tang of the pines. As the fragrant air rushed past, it ruffled Rudolph's hair with icey fingers, and pressed him to the wall. Almost, it seemed to be urging him to... To... Why not? It was all over now, whatever he did or did not do. So why not? He glanced over the wall, down the sheer plunge of more than a thousand feet. His muscles tensed at the thought, his hands gripping the stone parapet. A sick feeling coalesced in the pit of his stomach at the realisation that he was going to do it. "Rudi?" Rudolph started. He glanced round at the benches. A figure he had not noticed sat there. Rudolph turned back to the view of the City. For a long time, the only sound was the wind, and somewhere a night hunting bird calling softly. At last, Dora got up and moved to stand at his side. Rudolph continued to stare at the lights of the City. He said, "it's all over, isn't it?" "Why?" "You know what I have done?" "I know. I never really expected anything else." "Then why? If you knew all along... Then why?" "I was out of choices. You were the last hope I had of salvaging the situation." Rudolph turned back to the abyss before them. "It's all over," he repeated like a mantra. "It needn't be." "What?" Rudolph looked sharply at her, taken aback. Dora sighed. "Rudi, you know I have never had any illusions about you. You have always been a cowardly worm. I knew that there was a good chance you would let me down when the chips were down. I accepted that possibility when I agreed to marry you. I confess I am rather disappointed at your craven capitulation to my brother; but I never really expected anything else, so it really changes nothing. I still have to marry someone; and you are still my only real choice." --------------------------------------------------------- She stood at the great windows of the grand lounge, staring out at the pouring rain, waiting for her world to end. There could be no hope of sun today; the rain fell relentlessly from the grey clouds, softening the artfully contrived beauty of the Regis Estate. Bella heard the soft click as the door opened. Her breath caught; and Bella found she could not breath. The door closed with a soft click; and the waiting silence descended once more on the grand lounge. Under her breath, Bella began to mutter a prayer for the confounding of the enemies of the Tribes, while scrunching up folds of the hateful silken dress in her fingers. "Bella?" Even though she had been expecting it, the shock of Dora's voice made her heart jump violently. Steeling herself, Bella looked over her left shoulder. Dora stood just inside the door. She looked troubled. Just the sight of her Guardian told Bella that her worst fears were realised. Dora had failed to save Mouser as she had promised. Without a word, Bella turned back to the grand windows and stared at the gardens under the rain. "I will kill them all," she vowed in a quiet voice. "I will find a way to kill all the nasty naked apes. Hear me Mother! Hear me Mouser! One day I will find a way to get out of this collar... And kill them all!" -----------------------------------------------------------------------Back to the index page.