* * * PARTHIA – MARY * * *

Mary was racing through the waves with the latest pod of dolphins that came calling. She was having fun and relaxing. All too soon she was going to get back to that snakepit of smiling vipers that counted themselves diplomats and ambassadors.

Admittedly the dolphins wanted something too, but at least they were honest, they wanted a safe place to raise their young and a secure food supply. But they were happy to play and joke around. It was relaxing.

‘And what can I to do ’bout Newtown. It’s in the way, an’ when I expand again it’s goin’ to get swallowed. The beep guild’s goin’ to get irked. Oh beep it, back to havin’ fun.’

* * * EARTH’S MOON – TOURNESOL * * *

Tournesol looked at the screen for one last time. He didn’t smile because he was incapable of facial expressions. He flicked the switch that would align the communications laser with Bait, well time for one last statement.

“Félicitations à nos amis chinois à avoir gagné la course. Malheureusement, nous ne pouvons pas récompenser votre curiosité de singe. L’Alliance Galactique des Etats Libres n’aime pas que nous donnons la technologie de pointe aus primitives. Peut-être que maintenant vous savez qu’il est possible que vous les gars peuvent comprendre le secret.”

Tournesol nodded his head once in decision, he glanced at the screen and flicked up a tab and pressed the red button it was guarding.

Out in space where it had been orbiting between the Earth and the Moon the little satellite disappeared in a flash of light and powdered debris, to mass frustration in the approaching Chinese orbiter and scientists and politicians on the Earth below.

* * *

In Houston the mission controller gritted his teeth in a mix of frustration and relief as one of his translators translated the crackling French as: “Well congratulations to our Chinese friends for winning the race. Unfortunately we really can’t reward your monkey curiosity. The Galactic Alliance of Free States frowns on us giving primitives advanced technology. Maybe now you know it is possible you will come up with it on your own.”

* * *

Tournesol carefully settled his helmet onto the receiving ring glued to his torso exosketetal plate, checked the air connections and his air supply before closing down the little base and moving through the corridor to the small attached garage. There he powered up the little moon skimmer and was soon heading towards Lewis Carroll’s castle.

He was looking forward to moving through the portal to Fragatta’s moon. Mother had promised him he’d have an important job there, and anyway Julienne was waiting for him there.

* * * EARTH – OREGON * * *

Frank Goodyear felt exhausted. He had been scrambling to claim the little room on the other side of his heart chamber. The concealed door had been no hindrance thankfully. But he had a deadline, if he didn’t get that fighting pit claimed many of his plans would have gone to waste. And it had been expensive.

This was harder than he had expected, but he had managed it. Just.

There they were. The thugs, all carefully masked and their spokesman with a voice distorter in place, they were ready for the cameras. Not that the cameras would do anything more than hum slightly. He didn’t want a record of this. He triggered the recording he had had made almost a month ago.

“Welcome. The initial payment is in the blue box against the far wall,” he concentrated and made the box open revealing the bundles of bills. “The rest is in the red box, or it will be in the red box shortly.”

The lead thug strode across the room and collected the bills. He studied them carefully; then he counted them. He nodded. “Good.”

“The cameras will be recording when the red light is lit. As you will be unable to be sure of that I am sure you will be cautious.”

“Too true,” agreed the leader.

Then the other thugs started wheeling in the cages. And then the dog fights began. Dogs fought against dogs; dogs against other animals, snakes, even one bear.

Frank fed well. The life energy he absorbed was very welcome, as were the templates. The latter were a surprise, he hadn’t truly believed. He was glad he had kept his Voice out of this little feast. Maybe he could use the thugs again. Finally it was over. And the leader produced a revolver and killed the wounded bear.

Frank selected four recordings and played them.

“Thank you, that was well done. Your payment is in the red box – that was better than I had expected, I’ve included a bonus – Maybe we can cooperate again – if you can figure out a safe way for me to contact you?”

The leader put his revolver away and went to check his payment. Once again he inspected the notes before counting them. “Maybe.” He pointed at his men, “I’ll send one of them round next week with contact details. Nice place you got here.”

He gave the cameras one last look and another speculative look at the now clean fight pit before leaving.

* * *

Frank then concentrated on his potential advances. He finally accepted that being able to communicate with anyone in his domain was the most important thing. Especially if he wanted to be accepted as himself.

He relaxed slightly as he used some of his new energy to claim territory around and above his core. He stopped before he finished depleting his store. He felt something lacking. He needed something more. But then he felt his lawyer returning with four people he didn’t know.

He summoned Gonzales, and felt an acknowledgement.

‘Why am I feeling so nervous? None of them are armed. This is expected, why oh why do I feel the need for guards. If this doesn’t work I’m screwed and guards won’t help. But I need...’

Frank concentrated, and in the room behind the secret door two muscular scarred fight dogs came into existence and settled down patiently to wait beside the fight pit.

« Good afternoon Mr Pettigrew. It worked. Should I use this new ability of mine to speak with the people that are with you, or should I wait for Gonzales? »

“Please wait,” whispered Pettigrew.

* * * EARTH – MORIARTY * * *

Professor James Moriarty made his way through Buenos Aires Ezeiza Airport, quietly collecting his bag, navigating passport control and making his way to the pre arranged meeting point where he had arranged to meet the guide provided by his local lawyer.

The drive to Buenos Aires went quickly and he parted with his guide at the lawyer’s office. Once there he verified everything was as expected. Moriarty knew the man was crooked, but he knew where all the skeletons were buried. He nodded and smiled a trifle acidly.

Soon he had all the legalities sorted, he signed with his favourite pen. He just loved this pen Mother had developed from the rather crude original.

Then he settled into his hotel, the Palacio Duhau. Now to see if his prey would take the bait, they all came from well off families but the Palacio Duhau was going to impress even them.

* * *

Mercedes Hidalgo y Acuña looked at her friends. David Quispe was looking round nervously while Roberto Miranda was relaxing in the back seat of the taxi. She was feeling very nervous. The letter they all received that so bluntly linked them to the recent catastrophic blackout had scared them all. What did this Norte Americano know? And the offer of funding. They really had no choice.

They were expected. The guy at reception had sent them straight up. This Professor was waiting for them. Mercedes examined him carefully; he was tall, an upright thin faced, grey haired man wearing a neat if old fashioned suit.

“Good morning,” she began in her best English.

“Good morning,” he replied in fluent accentless Castilian Spanish, “please sit and have some refreshments.

* * *

Moriarty watched as his young guests settled themselves. They were justifiably nervous, now to proceed. “As you know, I represent MagiTech inc. You must understand how your little proof of concept experiment interested us. We are willing to fund your work. We are willing to provide you with a well equipped secure lab and funds. Something in the order of ten million US dollars for the first four months. The exact amount can be adjusted. In return we want to own the process. We will happily provide you with patents and a small percentage of the profits.”

He watched as the three youngsters looked at each other wide eyed. ‘Looks like it’s in the bag,’ he thought, ‘just a little haggling. Lambs to the slaughter.’

* * * EARTH – MARY * * *

“Look, I don’t care, you don’t want the cats, fine. I’ll take them back. They will be just as happy not havin’ to work. They’re cats!”

“That’s not what we meant Ms Silvestre. What we as the AMA are saying is that they must pass through a rigorous regime of testing before we can accept them as a viable cure.”

“Fine, talk with ’em. Why pester me. Easiest if I take ’em back. I would object to any testin’ that would cause ’em harm.”

“All cures must be tested to ensure there are no side effects.”

“Fine, so what! They are not a cure, they are sapient beings who have certain abilities. They are also cats. They won’t mind bein’ allowed to laze about all day. C’mon Whiskers, lets go home.” And with that Mary stood and walked out of the office totally ignoring the three representatives of the AMA sitting on the other side of the desk. Whiskers stretched, cast one disdainful look at the three and launched himself into the air and glided to perch on his human’s shoulder.

* * *

Mary stopped just outside the downtown building where the meeting had just taken place as she blinked at all the press. Tessa stood at her shoulder. Mary grinned crookedly at the assembled pack and managed to figure out the principal question.

“Please don’t be ridiculous, there is absolutely no possibility of a Nobel. The idea is ridiculous. As for your other question I’ll let Whiskers answer, he was present after all.”

Mary fed Whiskers a thread of manna and worked to boost his telepathic ability.

« Ladies and gentlemen of the press, you ask what the AMA wanted. Well as far as I could figure it, they wanted to test some of my colleagues to destruction so that they could take us apart to find our secret. They succeeded in scaring me, I will tell my friends of what passed and we will withdraw. You don’t want our help, fine, then we won’t give it. »

Then Mary turned and re-entered the building. She turned to the receptionist, “Is there another way out? That mob out there are kind of intimidatin’.”

“Certainly, go through that door and follow the corridor to the end. Please don’t withdraw your cats, they’re beautiful and needed.”

“Not allowin’ ’em to be taken apart for the sin of healin’ people that those clowns can’t save.” Then she was gone, the door swinging closed behind them as the press came flooding into the reception of the building.