MINDFIGHTER 
Brought to you by Belgarath

INTRODUCTION 
This game follows the story of Robin, an eleven year old boy gifted with 
psychic powers. The accompanying novel details his experiences in late 
1987, the year before the war, and provides an informative background 
guide to the game. 
You control Robin, guiding him through the disturbing sequence of events 
which beset him. At the start of the game, he has just woken up on a heap of 
rubble in the middle of a desolate, mined cityscape. The last thing he 
remembered was falling asleep in his man at home. Was this a nightmare? 
He had certainly never woken up into a nightmare before. His friends were
nowhere to   be seen-he was on his   own.  Where was he, and how was he to 
get back to his home? 
He stood up and looked out   across  the remains of   the city. What was this 
place? A   chill wind brought the salt smell of the sea to his nostrils, the gust 
of cold air moaning as it passed through the burnt shell of a nearby house. 
Robin suddenly felt terribly afraid. 

BACKGROUND 
The story  of  "Mindfighter" was  written during  late  1986 and early   1987. 
While  it is a  fictitious   account,   all of the  material  relating to  para- 
psychology,   the effects of  a nuclear exchange  between  the super. 
powers,  current  affairs and  Nostradamus  has been  painstakingly 
researched, and the story is as "believable" and accurate as possible. 

THE AUTHORS 
An ex-photocopier saleswoman,   Anna  Popkess  wrote   the  original 
"Mindfighter"  book and designed  the game. 
Leader of the  radical DELTA 4 Software, Fergus McNeill. 
Famed for their other adventure  systems, Tim  Gilberts, Graeme Yeandle 
and Hugh Hamer-Powell   are responsible   for the   hard   coding  of  SWAN 
(our System  Without A  Name). 

Mindfighter (story and characters) (C) 1987 Strange Obsessions. 
Mindfighter (computer game) (C) 1988  Abstract  Concepts. 
Marketed and distributed by Activision (UK)  Ltd. 

SPECIFIC MACHINES 
Different versions of the game have different loading  instructions   and 
keys. Consult   the guide below for details   concerning your  machine. 

IBM AND PC COMPATIBLES 
Type BEGIN <RETURN>. 
The icon screen is activated by pressing  <RETURN>  at the start of  a com- 
mand. Move  the icon painter with the  cursor  keys and use  <RETURN>  to
select. The F3 key recalls  the previous command for editing. 

ATARI ST 
Boot with Language disk, then double click on the BEGIN. PRG  icon. 
Backspace deletes the character behind the cursor  and DELETE deletes 
the character under the cursor. The icon screen is activated by pressing 
<RETURN>  or clicking the left mouse  button. Move the icon pointer  with 
the mouse  and use the left mouse button to  select  The UNDO key recalls 
the previous command for editing. 

COMMODORE AMIGA 
Double click on the BEGIN icon. 
The icon screen is activated by pressing  <RETURN>  or clicking the left 
mouse  button. Move the  icon pointer with the mouse  and use the left 
mouse button  to select. The HELP key recalls the previous command for 
editing. 

If you experience problems loading the game, refer to  your computer’s 
manual for information on loading commercial software. 

INTERACTING WITH THE GAME 
If you’ve never played  an adventure before, you may be wondering what 
this type of game is all about. 
Basically, it’s a story Imagine a book, where you can not only decide the 
outcome  of events, but play the lead character   as  well! A book where   you 
till never be frustrated by characters who continually fail to see what  you 
know is obvious,  a book where you can explore all those loose ends you 
were left wondering about That’s what  an adventure is! 
You play a part in the   story,  guiding your character through whatever   situ- 
ations the game holds. 
So how does  one go about playing  an adventure?  The  process is  very 
simple. Merely type in what you want your character to do. At the start
of the game you till be prompted. 

WHAT NOW? 
Every time you see the prompt, it is time for you to type in your  instruc- 
tions.  To explain, let’s use an example. Suppose your character was called 
Mike and this came upon your screen. 

A LONG CORRIDOR 
Mike found himself in a long, grey corridor. A shabby-looking guardroom 
lay to the north while a heavy metal door blocked the way south. 

WHAT NOW? 
>- 
Let’s assume that you wish to go through that metal door. You   might type 
>  PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR 
or this could be shortened to 
>  OPEN DOOR 
Now, if   that door happened to be locked and Mike didn’t have the   appropri- 
ate key,  the game would respond 
The  door was  locked Mike didn’t  have the key. 
Let  us assume  that the relevant key lies in that guardroom to the north. 
You could type. 
>  W  NORTH AND  GET THE KEY 
The game would then respond 
Mike went north.

THE GUARDROOM
Mike was now in a  dingy guardroom.  The  walls  had clearly seen better 
days-  they were battered and dirty. A faded  calendar  hung beside  the 
open doorway.  To the  south, a long corridor  stretched  away. 
Mike  also noticed a  key, a fire bucket and a  wastepaper  basket 
Mike took the key.
Okay, so we have now got the key. Let’s send Mike back to that door. 
GO SOUTH
Mike  went  south 

A LONG CORRIDOR 
Mike found himself in a long, grey corridor. A shabby-looking guardroom 
lay to the  north while a  heavy  metal  door  blocked the way south. 
In some adventures you might have to unlock, open and then go  through 
the door, but this game will try and be helpful rather than pedantic. So, if 
you ask  to go in the direction of  a locked door (and you  are carrying  the 
right  key) 
>  W SOUTH 
Mike unlocked  the  door. He opened the  door. 
He went south. 

THE ROOM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR 
Mike  now stood in a drab room. A door was set in  the north wall and  a 
bench was propped up on the far side of the floor. 
Mike also noticed a vase. 

WHAT NOW? 
>  GET THE VASE AND EXAMINE IT 
Mike took  the vase. 
He examined the vase. It was beautifully  hand painted, with an unusual 
pattern. 

WHAT NOW? 
>  DROP THE VASE 
Mike dropped  the   vase. It fell  to the floor  and bounced back  up  again. 
Amazed, Mike caught it. 

WHAT NOW? 
>  AGAIN 
Mike   dropped  the   vase. It fell  to the floor and shattered, fragments  splin- 
tering everywhere. A piece of paper lay in the wreckage.

WHAT NOW? 
>  GET PAPER AND LOOK AT IT 
Mike took  the  piece of paper 
He examined the  piece of paper.  It read, “Special ornament  protective 
spray.   Adds an extra  few years  to the  life  of your vase!" 

WHAT NOW? 
>  WAIT 
Time passed 
Hugo  arrived. 
"Where's  my erase?” cried   Hugo. 

WHAT NOW? 
>  GIVE PAPER   To HUGO. SAY   ‘TO  HIM "READ IT” THEN   W  NORTH 
AND LOCK THE DOOR
Mike  gave  the  piece   of paper to Hugo. 
Mike  spoke to Hugo. 
Hugo examined the  piece of paper. 
Mike went north 
He closed  the door. He locked  the door. 
On the other side of the door,  Hugo raged  "Let me out!" 

WHAT NOW?
>
There you have   seen   an example of the  gameplay   from an imaginary game. 
We will now look at the format of some of the more specialized commands
available. 

MULTIPLE COMMANDS 
During  the course of the story, you may wish to give more than one com- 
mand at a time. Let’s say that you have a box and a paperweight. You wish 
to put the  paperweight  into the box and put them both into the cupboard 
nearby. Any of the following would do 
>   PUT  THE PAPERWEIGHT  INTO THE BOX. PUT THE BOX   INTO  THE 
CUPBOARD 
>  PUT THE PAPERWEIGHT INTO THE BOX AND PUT THE BOX INTO 
THE CUPBOARD 
>   PUT  THE PAPERWEIGHT  INTO THE BOX   THEN PUT  THE BOX INTO 
THE CUPBOARD 
 
Another form of multiple command, is   an instruction which   refers  to more 
than one object. If you found yourself in a  room filled  with various trea- 
sures,  you might type 
>  GET ALL 
and would be pleased to note that you now possessed several valuable
objects. However, what if there was  a cactus among the useful articles? 
You wouldn’t want to hurt your hand by picking it up, so you could  type 
>  GET EVERTHING EXCEPT THE CACTUS 
Use of the words ALL/EVERYTHING is not essential but it can save 
typing! 

HE, SHE AND IT
Often, if you’ve just typed in  a long name, eg. 
>  GET THE ANCIENT MANUSCRIPT 
>  SAY     TO  MR TEMPLETON SMYTH ‘GOOD MORNING” 
>  ASK PEGGY SUE JONES   TO  “CLOSE THE DOOR” 
you then don’t  want to have to  repeat the name. So, instead of  having to 
plough through 
>  READ THE ANCIENT MANUSCRIPT 
>  KILL MR TEMPLETON SMYTH 
>  SAY  TO  PEGGY SUE JONES “KISS ME” 
you could instead use 
>  READ  IT 
>  KILL HIM 
>  SAY TO  HER “KISS ME” 

Again,  these features are  not essential, they are merely included to save 
unnecessary typing. 

NON PLAYER CHARACTERS   (NPC’s) 
In any story, you will meet characters other than the one you play. They 
may he human or animal, friendly or hostile. There are   a number of com- 
mands relating to them. 
>  GIVE <object> TO  <name  of character> 
This command will pass  an  object that you are holding to the character 
named. 
>  KILL name  of character 
If you meet a hostile character, you may wish to attack them. The KILL
command will attack the character named (using  the most efficient wea- 
pon that your character is carrying). There is no need  to specify a weapon. 

If you are attacked by another character, your own character will automat- 
ically retaliate as best he  or she can, but  initializing the combat  yourself 
will often give you an” advantage. 
> SAY To <name of character>  "HELLO" 
> ASK <name of character> TO "TAKE THE GLASS" 
> SAY "LOCK THAT DOOR!" TO <name of character> 
Any of the   above   commands  are valid ways of communicating   with  NPC’s. 
The basic  rule is that you must  always specify who you are talking to and 
whatever  you say  must  be  enclosed  within quotation marks. 
You can instruct  NPC’s   to  do   almost  anything.  However,  you   can  only give 
one instruction  at a time. Multiple commands  or statements referring  to 
more than one object (e.g.  > DROP EVERYTHING EXCEPT THE ROPE) 
will be ignored. It is also worth remembering that any NPC who is  hostile 
towards you, or very upset, is unlikely to do what you tell them. 

ICONS AND SPECIAL COMMANDS 
The following commands are accessed from the  icon menu (see "Specific 
Machines” section for how  to activate menu and pointer). 
To  select an   icon,   move the  pointer   over  it and “se the appropriate button 
for your machine.

SOUND/SILENCE
On  certain  versions, there are pieces of incidental music to  accompany 
the text The SOUND command  (represented by a music  note with a tick) 
turns the music on, SILENCE (a music note  with a cross) turns  it off. 

Certain  machines without music use the SOUND/SILENCE  command  to 
turn the keyboard click  on and off. 

The game starts with the sound on. 

GRAPHICS/TEXT 
Areas of the game have a picture  to accompany the text. The  pictures  can 
be turned  off with the TEXT command (represented by  a little computer 
displaying several lines of text) and  turned  on again with the GRAPHICS 
command (a little computer  with  a split graphics/text screen). 

The game   starts with the  pictures on. 

SAVE (DISC/TAPE/RAM) 
At certain  points of the game, you may want the computer  to "remember"
the current state of play - perhaps because  you want to try something 
risky,  or  perhaps because   you   want to switch off and continue playing at   a 
later date. 

You  can save a game position to tape or disc (if you have the appropriate 
hardware connected  to your machine) or store the game position in RAM 
(in memory). 

Saving to RAM is practically instantaneous, but  your position will be  lost 
when the computer is switched off. Tape and disc take a little longer but 
they provide a permanent record of your position. 

DEVICE SELECTOR 
This icon shows which of the devices  -  disc, tape  or RAM  -  is currently 
selected for the SAVE and LOAD actions.

LOAD (DISC/TAPE/RAM) 
The LOAD   command  will recall  a  previously saved game position   from the 
currently selected device. The  story will then continue  from where  you 
left off. 

QUIT
The QUIT command (represented by  a  computer  with  a blank screen) 
allows  you to abandon the  story before its completion. The  game will 
check that  you are sure you want to quit, then offers you the choice of res- 
tarting the game or resetting the computer. 

SCRIPT/UNSCRIPT
There is the option of sending the game text to a printer (if  you have one 
connected).

The SCRIPT command (represented by  a printer with paper)  echoes all 
text to the printer,  so that  you will have  a permanent  transcript  of  your 
story.  The   UNSCRIPT  command (a printer without paper)   turns the 
printer off.

The printer is switched off when the game starts. 

VERBOSE/BRIEF 
Every location in the game has  a name and a piece of descriptive text. I” 
VERBOSE  mode (represented by  a long scroll), the name and descriptive 
text are displayed. In BRIEF (a short  scroll), only the location  name is 
shown

The game starts in  verbose mode. 
>- 
The prompt icon  returns  to the  normal text input line  from the  icon 
screen. 

DISC/TAPE/RAM 
This icon is used to select one of  the devices   disc, tape or RAM   for the 
LOAD  and SAVE actions. 

INFORMATION 
The INFO  command (represented by  a question mark) will print up infor- 
mation relating to  the player’s character in  the game, such  as physical 
condition, weather, time, score,   etc. 

OOPS  (not available on certain of the small memory machines) 
This command  essentially  “undoes”  the last  instruction  you typed. For 
example, if you dropped  a valuable vase and it broke, you could OOPS 
back one  move to just before you dropped it

The following commands can only be typed  from  the keyboard, They have 
no icon equivalents. 

>  AGAIN 
Typing this will  cause the game to repeat the last command that was 
entered (not the last string of commands or  conversation  with  an NPC). 
AGAIN can be shortened  to G. 

> EXITS
Typing this will list out the obvious exits from your character’s  current 
location. 

>   INVENTORY 
This command will list the objects that your character is currently carry-
ing or wearing.
INVENTORY  can be shortened to I. 

>   LOOK
Typing this will give you   a description of your character’s current location 
(taking into  account  whether you  are in  BRIEF  or VERBOSE mode). 
LOOK can be shortened to L. 

>   TIME 
This command will display the current time in  the story. 

>  WAIT 
Typing this will cause your character to wait for 5 minutes (in the story, not
real time).
WAIT can be shortened to Z

EDITING YOUR COMMANDS 
Remember, it is possible to edit your last input by pressing the appropriate 
recall key (see ‘Specific Machines” section). All versions of the game have 
left/right  editing with  full insert and delete. 

Using the recall facility  can save typing when attempting several similar 
actions. 

MINDFIGHTER
CONTENTS 

Activision UK Ltd, Activision House, 23 Pond Street,   London, NW3   2PN, UK 
Hamburg, West Germany. Mountain View, California, USA. 

(c)  Strange Obsessions 1987 

First published as a paperback 1988 

Printed in Great Britain by
Richard Clay Ltd,  Bungay,  Suffolk 

1 STRANGE IDEAS 

2 THROUGH THE DARK 

3 REALISATIONS 

4 JIMMY 

5 COMING HOME 

6 FIRESIDE HORRORS 

7 PERSECUTION 

8 GRIEF 

9 REVELATION 

10 FEARS 

11 DECISIONS 

12 AFTERMATH 

To Athelstan 

MINDFIGHTER 
(IT COULD HAVE BEEN THE YEAR OF THE BIG BANG!) 
In the past, ‘The Big Bang’ has been used as the name of a theory 
relating to the creation of the universe and, therefore, the planet Earth.
So, there should be no objections in it being used as an expression for the
destruction of the planet Earth. 

Not a lot is known about parapsychology. Hence the general public 
are like “dogs which bark at those they do not  recognise”.  It is a science 
which is avoided and the people involved with the various experiments 
are considered to be ‘freaks! 
Predictions and premonitions are both looked upon as being dreams. 
“So what?!” if the dream comes true, “It was just pure luck!” 

Could parapsychology be used for the benefit of Mankind in the 
future? Or, like most scientific discoveries or inventions, would it be used
destructively by politicians? 

The following account looks at the the possible extent to which a 
group of talented people, who possess exceptional powers, could influ- 
ence the future. 

Picture the human race, marching on a straight road towards a T-junc- 
tion. At that junction, it has two choices: 

1) the door to evil, i.e. total destruction and death. 

2) the door to good, i.e. prosperity and life.
Sounds simple, doesn’t it? But is it? How easy is it to take the right 
turning when one is accelerating under pressure, governed by circumstances
over which one has no control?

In times of crisis, do we listen to the Leaders -Heads of State-and
trust everything they tell us as being Gospel truth? Or, do we obey our consciences
and resort to using civil disobedience as a legal method of
making the public aware of what could happen?

As Albert Einstein wrote - “We must never relax our efforts to arouse
in the peoples of the world, and especially in their governments, an awareness
of the unprecedented disaster which they are absolutely certain to
bring on themselves unless there is a fundamental change in their attitudes
towards one another, as well as in their concept of the future.”

CHAPTER ONE
STRANGE IDEAS

" ROBIN, ARE you RELAXED YET? TAKE YOUR TIME. YOU ARE SURE YOU KNOW WHAT
to do? Remember! It doesn’t matter if you don’t succeed this time, though
Professor Chauvin of Strasbourg University has shown us that it is possible
to do.”
Always, Professor Fergere encouraged his students before an experiment.

“From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
The universal frame began:
When Nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
And could not heave her weary head,
The tuneful voice we heard from high:
Arise ye more than dead.”

Robin repeated this over and over. Then, he began, relaxing his sensitive
body whilst focusing on a candle flame. Soon, his body felt like lead
and he started to close his eyes very slowly.
Now he was relaxed. He began to inhale for a count of three. He held
his breath for a count of twelve. Lastly, he exhaled over a count of twelve.
This breathing routine was repeated three times.
Before going into a trance, Robin muttered,
“I’m ready...”
From that moment, there was a silence. The professor and his
students watched Robin through the one-way mirror.
3

Robin sat lifelessly on a coarse wooden chair, facing an off-white wall. 
He was alone in the small, dimly lit room. 
During the first few minutes, the still figure concentrated his thoughts 
on accelerating the radioactive disintegration of the uranium isotope.
Then, Robin concentrated on slowing down the decay of the isotope.
Finally, during the third minute, he turned off his thoughts. 
Every minute, the geiger counter switched off automatically. It 
measured and recorded the rate of the radioactive decay. 
Robin brought himself out of the trance. He  began to “lighten” his 
body, in the way he had relaxed it. He ended with the opening of his eyes, 
letting them open over a count of seven. Lastly, he repeated his breathing 
routine. 
Silently he sat, his face pale and expressionless.
When the results were checked, none of them could believe their 

“He did it!” 

Robin had managed to control the radioactive decay of the uranium 
isotope by using his psychic powers. 
Alison was the first to enter the room to congratulate him. Lightly she 
kissed him on his forehead and patted him on his back. 
“Well done, Robin. I knew you could do it!” said she, softly. 
He looked up at her, gave her a smile and whispered, 
“Thank-you.” 
She felt pity towards him. Robin  was only eleven years old. His 
parents had died in a fire at their home in Bursildon. It  was fortunate that 
he had managed to escape, though the cause of the fire still remained a 
mystery. 
He lived in a children’s home for four years. Then at the age of nine he 
was brought here, to  Southampton University.  The Education Authorities 
had informed Professor Fergere of the unique telepathic powers pos- 
sessed by the youngster. 
For two years now Robin had been treated like a guinea-pig. He per- 
formed experiment after experiment and in   turn had had a variety of tests 
carried out on him. There appeared to be no boundaries to his abilities. 
The older students and the professor were truly amazed 
Harry stepped forward. 
“Where would you like  to go?" 
4 

“I just want to go home and sleep. Maybe tonight or tomorrow?” 
His big green eyes gazed up emptily   -  his face rarely gave away any 
signs of emotion. His complexion was white, often compared to that of
marble stone statues. 
“Of course, I understand. Go home and rest. Matthew will take you 
home.” 

As they rode in the car, Robin asked,
“What will you be doing this afternoon?” 
“I’m not sure yet! I expect Harry,   Alison and I shall be doing some of 
the usual experiments. Bye Robin, we’ll see you later.” 
Robin got out of the car and slowly walked to the front door. He did 
not bother replying to Matthew or even looking back to wave goodbye. 

Matthew took the long route back   to   the university. He was eighteen 
years old when he was recruited by the professor, six years ago. He  was 
beginning to feel bored with the work he was doing. 
It seemed as though more attention was being   focused  on Robin. All 
the time, the more testing and unusual experiments were performed by 
Robin. All Professor Fergere ever spoke about was Robin   -  “Robin did this, 
Robin did that. Is he not  marvellous? Have you seen anything else like it?” 
But it was true, nobody this century possessed the same talent as 
Robin. 
Matthew was tall and slim. His cheek bones were prominent, the cold 
blue eyes set deep into the sockets. He had brown, shortish, straight hair 
which was casually flicked back, revealing a large forehead. 
As he drove however, his resentment towards Robin slowly ebbed 
away. 

Finally, Matthew returned to the laboratory to find the professor bent 
over the bench checking and rechecking the results   from  the   geiger-counter. 
Professor  Fergere   was  an oldish man, about sixty years of age. He was 
the head person of the Parapsychology Department at the university. He
was thinning on top, although a fair amount of the white crop remained. 
His appearance resembled that of the general “Mad Professor” in the old 
horror movies of the nineteen-thirties. His busby eyebrows stuck out over 
the top of his round, metal-framed spectacles. 
In a mumbled, low voice he sighed, then stuttered before he 
stammered: 
“Unbelievable, unbeliev...  I never thought I should ever live long 
enough to see this work...” 
5
He paused then continued  - 
“Unbelie...” 
He did not finish his sentence, hut drifted back into deep thought. He 
was filled with ecstasy as he pondered. 
But what now? What or how would  this help him? Without having to 
use or be dependent on Robin’s psychic powers, how could he control the
disintegration of radioactive isotopes? 
It was the professor’s ambition to control the disintegration of radio- 
active elements by using chemical or physical methods. His goal was to
eventually save Mankind from its “nuclear self-destruction”, as a Third
World war seemed inevitable. 

“No, no it’s okay! I’ve much work to do. Go! Go!   I don’t need you today,” 
he exclaimed  with his strong  German  accent. 
"I  shall see you tomorrow. Look after Robin -after his performance 
today, he’s the most valuable person alive on this earth. It’s imperative that 
what happened today is kept a secret!” 
It was rare, almost unheard of, that they should be given an afternoon 
off. Alison, Harry and Matthew gathered their belongings quickly. They
departed from the laboratory, leaving the professor mumbling to himself. 
“Well, what shall we do  this afternoon?” Harry asked. 
He looked at Alison for whom his question was really intended. 
Always, Harry had had a soft spot for  Alison. 
They met three years ago in June.  Harry  and Matthew had been intro- 
duced to a timid eighteen year old girl. It was a cloudless day. The sun
shone brightly, its rays were flickering flames of fire, reaching across the
sky like golden ribbons, pulling a chariot ridden by Gods. 
She stood in front of them shyly and looked down at her feet as she 
blushed. She shook  their  hands and whispered, 
“Hello, I’m Alison  Whitley." 

She looked so innocent. It was as if she was one of the angels pulling 
the chariot. 
Since that day he liked her. He pretended to himself and  the  others 
that his love and adoration for her was that of a brother but, deep down in
his heart, he was in love with her. 
Although Alison was twenty-one years old, she was still like a child  - 
vulnerable and innocent to  the  big wide world. She trusted people too 
easily and needed their care and affections.
6 

She had never had a relationship with a man. It still bothered her! The 
child psychiatrists had told the nuns at the convent  that  Alison was no 
longer  frightened.  Deep down, she  was just  as afraid now as she was then  - 
sixteen years ago. 

...  that terrible, terrible night, the wind was howling. The rain and hail 
beating on the window-panes. The thunder clashed and banged like  cym- 
bals and drums  -  the monotonous beating, boding evil. 
Still the roars of thunder seemed so vivid in her head. 
  
  
Periodically there  were flashes of lightning  -  illuminating the  grey, 
black, overcast sky.   She was hitting him! Her heart pounding quickly as she begged him to 
 ( leave mommy alone, but he would not. He was hurting her. She was plead- 
  ing to him  -  but no, he did not listen. 
Mommy screamed to him, 
“...   go away, come back when you’re sober .  ."   “Him”, that was how Alison referred to her father, after that night. Her 
father had a terrible temper-and hence became very violent when under 
the influence of alcohol. That night in particular he had far more to drink
than usual. He had recently lost a lot of money gambling at the Silhouette 
casino. For this he blamed his wife. She was so fragile and beautiful. 
That night, he raped her. Then, Alison had not understood fully what 
had happened between her father and mother. 
The next morning, Alison awoke to find her mother had committed 
suicide. The battered, half-naked body lay there-cold across the kitchen
floor.
Alison could remember sitting next to her mother’s dead body. She 
then ran to the  neighbour’s  house, pulling the woman’s dress, tears  runn- 
ing down her cheeks, frantically she beckoned to the lady, 
“Please, please come and help me! It’s my mum .  .." 
That was as far as she got before again she burst into tears. 
She never saw her father again. It was then that Alison was admitted 
to a convent. There she stayed until she was eighteen years old. 
Harry, Matthew, Alison and Robin now worked together closely being 
experimented on because of their unique psychic powers. 
As they reached a bench in the university’s grounds, Alison sat before 
Harry. Matthew remained standing, one foot resting on the bench. He 
7
knocked the burnt tobacco out of his  Calabash,  his prize possession  -  a 
stereotype Sherlock Holmes pipe. He refilled it and began smoking it. 
“I’ve some reading to  do," Alison replied. She then continued, 
“Yesterday I  began  reading this article on whether it was just a myth 
that were-wolves existed, passed down from generation to generation
from the Middle Ages as an old folk-lore.” 
“What has sparked this sudden interest in were-wolves?”  Harry  asked 
inquisitively, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Matthew just stood there,
his elbow resting on his knee as he leaned  forward, smoking his pipe, deep 
in thought. 
“It’s thought that were-wolves were associated with people who had a 
peculiar form of mental disease called  lycanthropy.  The person under its 
attack  believing  himself to he a wolf.” 
“Yeah, wow-ee, and what about it? We already knew that!” Harry 
replied mockingly. 
“Don’t laugh! I haven’t finished yet. But today, what Robin did and 
what we’re capable of doing  -  well it’s got me thinking. If it’s  true  that 
people have changed into were-wolves in the past when under the influ-
ence of a mad fit, then  -  oh, can’t you see what I’m getting at? What about 
us? We’re not mad, hut we have control over our minds. We can make it do
what we want it to do, when we want.” 
Harry and Matthew stared, bemused at her.
“You don’t understand, do you?”
Alison had  become  quite excited, slightly out of breath, she continued 
“What if we could do that? Imagine being able to transform our- 
selves into any animal,   when  we wanted and not when under the 
influence of some mad, mental state, this way having complete control 
over our actions!” 
Now her heart was racing. There was a mischievous glint in her 
deep brown eyes. 
There was silence as Harry and Matthew tried digesting and under- 
standing exactly what she was getting at. They were stunned. 
Was she serious? More to the point  -  could it be done? These were 
hut a few of the questions running through their minds. 
“Well what do you think?” asked she, glancing anxiously at each of 
their amazed faces. 
“Yeah, urn, sure  ...  it’s, well, it’s different I suppose.” 
Harry stuttered as he replied. He hoped that a sudden   inspira- 
tion would have come. But Alison’s idea had taken him aback, he was 
8 

flabbergasted. He did not know quite what to  say. 
“Yes, we’re going to try that! It’s a fantastic idea Alison. Anyway, I 
was getting bored with the usual experiments. Well, what are we waiting 
for?” Matthew said defiantly. He was just as excited and enthusiastic as 
Alison about her idea and its implications. He took his foot off the bench 
and repeated, 
“Well what are we waiting for? Get up! Let’s go to the  library  now.” 
“No need. I’ve been to the library and done a lot of research on the 
subject,” she replied whilst standing up. 
For once, Harry was speechless. It was usually him who came up 
with  the  ideas and plans for what they were going to do. He looked up at 
Alison and Matthew, bewildered and shocked. 
“You’re both serious about this, aren’t you? I don’t think  that  either 
of you  realise  what exactly you’re expecting of yourselves. Anyway,   I 
think  that it’s too dangerous and maybe we should leave it well alone.” 
He paused, then submitted to them finally. 
“All right then, you don’t have to look so disheartened and disap- 
pointed. I’ve always supported the both of you in the past with your
other projects so, well you can count me in. Come on then, as Matthew
said twice, what are we waiting for? Shall we go and get started? Mad, I
must he  -  supporting you in this scheme!” 
Harry sighed, got up, brushed his jacket down and started walking 
towards Matthew’s red Sierra. It was parked about ten minutes away 
from the entrance of the university. 
Matthew and Alison  ran quickly to Harry’s side. Alison was content. 
Finally, her idea might work and she would be able to prove herself. Until
now everybody had spoilt her and never expected any constructive or
imaginative ideas. She was part of the furniture  -  the “agony aunt”  -  a 
person to whom either  Harry, Matthew and particularly Robin would go 
if they had any problems. Always she gave them sympathetic, sensitive 
advice. 
When they returned to Alison’s house, she made them a cup of tea. 
Then she read the  rasuma  about the were-wolves. 
“Firstly: closely related to  the vampire is the figure of the were-wolf. 
It spanned from all over the “Old World”  -  from Portugal to the shores of 
the Pacific and from the interior of Africa to the North Cape. 
Where wolves have been absent, we have were-tigers and  were- 
leopards. 
In ancient Scandinavian folk-lore, a person whose eyebrows 
were grown together over his nose was regarded as being uncanny; in
Continental Europe he would have been suspected of being a were-wolf. 
9
Something I found, which I think may be useful, is that a witch is 
rendered helpless if one manages to draw a drop of blood fmm her body.
A metamorphosed person, for example a were-wolf, will regain his  or her 
former shape by the same radical means. 
Those are  the main points and guidelines of which I think we 
should take notice and follow if we are going to be  successful.  Well, are 
you going to comment?” 
By now, Matthew had started smoking his pipe again. He flicked his 
hair back and frowned, contemplating the facts that had just been pre-
sented to him. 
Suddenly Harry stood up and exclaimed:
“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You’re a genius Alison. If  we can  

suc- 
ceed  in doing this, then there’s no stopping us.” 
There was a look of pure pleasure and delight on  Alison's glowing 
face as she blushed,  then  asked, 
“When should we start? Do we inform the professor of  our  new 

project?” 
She paused, then added: 
“I think it’s best that it’s kept a secret.” 
Harry gave a nod of approval and asked, 
“What about Robin, does he get to be included in this new adven- 
ture with us?” 
“No,  

I think he’s too young and too inexperienced. As you said,  we 
don’t know enough about this ourselves,” Alison replied confidently. It
was all finally coming together. 
“Okay, I agree. By the way, I promised him that we would pop round 
sometime this evening, just for a short while,” Matthew added. 
“All right  

then,"  came Alison’s reply. 
She cleared her notes away, while  Harry  took the cups into the kit- 
chen before they prepared to leave. 

10 

CHAPTER  TWO 

THROUGH THE DARK 

IT WAS  A  GLORIOUS   SPRING  DAY.  THE  SUN   WAS SHINING. THERE  WERE  NO  CLOUDS  TO  BE 
seen. The daffodils in the park swayed slightly in the breeze like waves of a
yellow sea  -  their bright, yellow  ochre  heads bowing to the sun, as if in 
worship. The smell of freshly  cut grass wafted in the wind. 
Harry  awoke with his head throbbing. After leaving the others, he 
chanced to meet  an  old friend at the cinema. Until the early hours of the 
morning they drank and joked merrily as they reminisced about their old
college days. Between them, they managed to consume a bottle of wine, 
brandy and the remains of the scotch left over from Christmas. 
He stood at his window taking deep breaths of fresh air. From the 
seemingly bright light he shielded his eyes. 
Once more he swore he would never drink so much, but this was the 
usual ritual undertaken the morning after a drinking binge. Though he 
could hold his  drink, his downfall came when he began mixing the spirits. 
Harry looked as dreadful as he felt, unshaven, his eyes slightly blood- 
shot. He found himself squinting as he looked around his untidy room. 
Following his departure from the others, he could not recollect the 
exact sequence of events. 
Matthew and Robin shared a house in Devonshire Road, Bedford 
Place. Alison lived with  Harry in Oxford Street at the other end of City 
Centre. 
"Harry, are you ready? Remember you said you would take Robin to 
the university this morning. Harry, are you sure you’re okay? Say  some- 
thing!" Alison shouted as she knocked on his bedroom door. 
11

would find some clue to why his beloved “friend” was in such a state. He 
continued questioning her. 
“Are you feeling sick? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Oh Harry, please hold me tightly and tell me I’m dreaming.   I was so 
scared, please don’t leave me alone. Not now, not ever.” 
She sat next to  Harry on the  settee,  his arms held tightly around her  as 
she had requested. Still as white as a sheet, now Alison was almost
hysterical. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you here on your own. Come on, stop cry- 
ing and calm down. You’re quite safe now.” 
He kissed her lightly on the top of her head   as he spoke, trying to com- 
fort her. He carried on reassuring her that whatever had upset her so much 
could not touch her here. 
“It’s okay. Now tell me what happened. Who has upset you like this?  I 
want to know,   Alison!"  Harry said sternly. 
“It’s  nothing. I mean, there is nobody to blame.  1  just... well, oh... I don’t 
know where  to begin." 
She was so confused, trying to make sense was difficult, but she 
continued  - 
“I’m not sure what it was. I was driving back, when all of a sudden the 
temperature in the car fell drastically. I started shivering all over. Then
there were the black shadowy images, floating about in the car  -  several 
times they   almost caused me to crash... oh Harry, it was awful. An over- 
whelming unhappiness came over me   -  like a   grey-black  cloud. It was as 
though I could see the black gathering for one almighty storm which was 
going to bring nothing but unhappiness to me. I was absolutely terrified. 
It’s a bad omen, I know it is. One thing of which I’m certain is that 
something bad is going to happen very soon.” 
:Ali, nothing is going to  happen. There is nobody that would ever want 
to hurt you. Tell you what, I won’t go out this evening, that way   I can stay 
with you all day and all night. Safe now?” 

He did not know what to make of Alison’s weird encounter   that morn- 
ing or whether to take it seriously, so   the only thing he thought  he could do 
was just to give her support and comfort. One thing of which he was
certain was that he could not leave her alone whilst she was in such an
unstable, even volatile, mood. She seemed abnormally depressed and 
Harry was not sure about Alison’s intentions on coping with this supposed 
disaster. 
“Thank you,   Harry I feel so much better now. I expect  you 
mad. I know what1 said sounded unbelievable but--” 
think me 

Harry interrupted. 
“No, I believe you. I’ve never seen anyone look as terrified as you did 
twenty minutes ago.” 
“Thank you again.” 
As she snuggled up closer to Harry, she rested her head on his  arms 
and fell asleep. He held her tightly and did not  move until the doorbell 
rang. Alison awoke. 
“Sony Harry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long was I like that?” 
asked Alison whilst she rubbed her eyes and then stretched her arms. 
“Just an hour, so don’t worry!=
“I’ll answer the door,” replied she, standing up,
“It’s probably Matthew. Gosh, it’s late! We were meant to meet Robin 
at the refectory at one o’clock. I don’t know what’s wrong with him but 
whatever it was he snapped my head off for no real reason this morning
when I collected him. Something is bothering him, he wouldn’t tell me 
what. He put up a barrier so that I couldn’t even get any information from 
the thoughts running through his mind. It must be something pretty seri- 
ous. It’s best that we keep a close eye on him, okay?” 
She stopped speaking before opening the door. 

“Yes, can I help you?” 
A man, about forty years of age, stood there; motionless, his hands in 
his pockets. 
The stranger did not reply. His gaze looked straight through her, like  a 
hot knife cutting through cold butter with ease. 
“Are  you one of Harry’s friends?” Alison  enquired. 
“Alison, is it you?” the unknown man asked optimistically. He took his 
hands out of his pockets and beckoned her towards him. 
“Alison Wbitley isn’t it? Don’t you remember me? Won’t you even ask 
me in?” 
He had already entered and was looking around the hall whilst he 
headed for the lounge. Alison appeared perplexed. Who was the man who 
had literally barged in without so much as an introduction? Quickly she 
followed him.   Harry glanced at his bemused flat-mate, as if to ask who this 
man was. Alison  shrugged her shoulders in reply. Then, suddenly, she 
became pale. 
It was him! It was him coming here that had caused her to feel so frigh- 
tened previously. He was the evil! 
“Who are you? What do you want with me...?” 
She broke off for a moment, then, 
“I don’t  care,  please just go." 
15 14

please. I beg you, don’t leave me alone, that’s until I’m sure he’s gone away 
for good. I swore then that I’d take my revenge out on him for momma’s 
sake.= 
She stopped and wiped her eyes, the tears that had brimmed unbid- 
den in her eyes cut Harry deeply. She looked up at him, then rested her
head on his shoulder.  He  kissed her lightly on her soft locks. 
He took her to the kitchen downstairs, sat her down and made them 
both a cup of steaming hot coffee. 
“Alison, do you want Matthew and Robin to know what happened 
today? I just thought   that  it would be for the best, if they knew the truth.” 
“I’m not sure, quite honestly I don’t know what to do. As I said I’m 
so confused, to think that in a few minutes, just as I  was  sure that my 
life was finally fitting together perfectly  -  this happens; my father, 
turns up here after so many years. What could he possibly want from 
me now? Okay, if you think it’s for the best, tell them. Please, just don’t 
go into any details.” 
“Ali,  you won’t be offended by my next question, you don’t have to 
answer it. Had your father...” 
Harry  cleared his throat before continuing 
“Well, you know? Umm... well, sort of... touched you in any way? You 
know what I mean.” 
Once more, her face turned pale as the haunting memories became 
more vivid. She nodded but did not say a word about it. He left the sensi- 
tive subject alone and began introducing other topics of conversation,
totally unrelated to her present problem. 
A deep silence fell as they just stared at each other, both thinking, 
neither knowing how to approach the delicate subject. 
“Have you had a boyfriend?” 
“No I’ve never been out with   anyone,"  replied she rather reluctantly. 
“Is that because of what happened before? If you don’t want to talk 
about it now, just say so. I don’t mind, but I don’t like seeing you so upset. 
Alison, you do know that I love you very much and that I can wait. I do 
understand what it must have done to you emotionally.   Obviously  it must 
have made some deep impression upon you.” 
Alison was stunned. She blushed and looked down at her hands as 
she twisted them on the table. Her heart was racing, she was unable to look 
Harry  straight in his glistening eyes. It was like a   dream   come  true.  Always 
she thought Harry had cared for her as a brother, not as a boyfriend. 
“Harry do you really mean that?” 
She looked up at  him gazing into  his greyish, blue eyes. 
18 

“It’s just that I never thought that you would ever fall for anyone like 
me  -  not after seeing some of the women with whom you’ve had flings.” 
Harry stood up and walked over to Alison and took hold of her hands.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, looking carefully into her eyes to see her 
reaction; he did not want to  rush her. 
She appeared insecure and apprehensive.
“It’s okay Alison. It was inconsiderate of me asking. I should have had 
more sense. Please don’t take any notice of that, forget I asked. I know I
haven’t chosen the best of times to tell you how I feel about you  -  I do 
realise you’ve got more important things on your mind.” 
“Thank you for being so understanding. Don’t think that I’m trying to 
put you off, but... well, with my father’s reappearance after countless years,
it certainly did surprise me. All those bad memories came flooding back   - 
just as I thought they had all been well and  truly buried. 
Gosh, I’ve just remembered, we were meant to meet Robin and 
Matthew for lunch at the university. What’s the time? We’re already late.
You better drive.” 

By the time Alison and Harry arrived at the university’s refectory, 
Matthew and Robin had finished their lunch and were looking impatiently 
at their watches. 
“What kept you both? We’ve been waiting ages.” Matthew asked as he 
glared at Harry. Robin sat silently, staring coldly at the others. Harry 
turned around and quietly asked Alison, 
“Do we tell them about your omen and the unexpected visitor?” 
“Might as well. They’ll probably find out sooner or later. But you can 
tell them.” 
Harry recounted the strange sequence   of events  that morning and the 
unfortunate episodes of Alison’s past. There were no interruptions. They 
just sat silently, listening sympathetically to  Harry's  every word.  Periodi- 
cally Alison wiped a tear from her glazed eyes. 
Robin appeared indifferent to Alison’s plight, but really he wanted 
nothing less than to give her a big hug and apologise   for the way he had 
acted and spoken to her that morning. 
“Oh, by the way,   the  professor doesn’t want us to go to the laboratory 
this afternoon,” said Matthew, trying to uplift the conversation because he 
felt uncomfortable. He wanted to tell her how sorry he  was  but he knew 
that Alison did not like people feeling sorry and sympathetic. 
“Goodbye,  I’ll  see you later Matthew. If you could, collect me from the 
front entrance at about five o’clock. Bye!” 
Gathering hisbooks, Robin left. 
19


He struck her across the  face  with the back  of  his hand. Then he put 
his forearm across her mouth. 
“Shut your mouth! Your mother did that, I hate women crying!”
He hit her again.
Alison pushed him away and ran to the door, her assailant running 
quickly after her. 
She picked up a vase and hurled it at him. She missed and watched it 
smash against the  beige wall. It had been a desperate last hope of escape, 
now shattered like the vase. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her to 
the  ground. 
Suddenly, the door opened and Harry came in to find Alison crying in 
anguish. Her father jumped up and, violently pushing Harry aside, ran out
of the door to disappear into the darkness. 
“Alison, what the hell...?”
He stopped speaking and ran towards her, taking her into his arms. He 
inspected the bruises on her face and body. Then he lifted her up, carried
her into the lounge and placed her gently onto the settee. 
“I heard something smash so I returned as quickly as possible. He 
didn’t, well he didn’t... you know...?” 
“No, thank God you came back when you did, he didn’t have enough 
time. As soon as you left, he changed. His eyes, well his eyes, they weren’t
his. Also his voice, it was as if another person was speaking and had taken
over his body for that period of time. The laugh was haunting, it was  so 
horrible. 
God, I feel dirty  -  he touched me. I have to take a shower and  scrub 
myself clean of him. You will come upstairs with me and wait in the bath-
room? I’m too scared to stay there on my own.’ 
She was breathless, huddled in a tight ball, her hands extending out 
gripping to Harry’s jacket. She shivered as she spoke. 
“Yes,  certainly." replied Harry, helping her up. 
When she had washed and dressed, they went downstairs. Harry tele- 
phoned Matthew and Robin and told them to come round immediately. 
He explained to them what had happened that evening. 
They had come to the agreement that, since   Alison’s father knew 
where she lived, it would be for the best if  Harry  and Alison swapped 
houses with Matthew and Robin as a temporary solution to the
problem. 
It was not until about two o’clock the next morning that Alison 
eventually managed  to get to sleep. 
24 

She awoke screaming.  Harry  calmed her down, reassuring her that 
she was only dreaming. 
“It’s okay, my sweet babe, I’m here. There is no one else here. 
‘He’ doesn’t know that we’re here. Just go back to  sleep," he whispered, 
stroking her silky hair. She was like a toddler having a nightmare, needing
its mother’s love and comfort.  Harry  felt guilty for what had 
happened earlier on. If only he hadn’t listened to Alison, who had believed
her father had totally repented. No, he should have listened to his own
conscience. It was as though Harry had betrayed the faith and  trust  that 
Alison had bestowed in him, especially after their conversation that
afternoon. 
“Don’t worry, Ali.  I’ll  make him pay for this -  as long as God is my wit- 
ness, he’ll pay dearly,’ swore Harry before he himself dozed off to sleep. It
was approaching four o’clock... 
Mr Whitley was about thirty-nine years of age, give or take a year. He 
was about six foot in height and well built. His first name was  Terence,  but 
he used his middle name, Nick. 
He was very handsome, resembling a typical male model-dark skin, 
fair hair and very blue eyes-two jewels, deep as the deepest sea. When he
was younger he had had all the women in hot pursuit. But he was never 
satisfied with  that,  what he had-always he had to have more. He had to 
have what seemed to be impossible  -  married women. What he liked was 
to put people in fear. He got great satisfaction out of scaring women. 
The majority of women he was able to charm, whether they were 
married or not, it was no problem. If they were married, then to him it was 
an added bonus. The  easy  catch offered no real pleasure. 
No! What he  really  enjoyed was the thrill, the satisfaction, the power 
-he was put on a high when he stalked, closed on his next victim. Getting
her into a predicament, where she was frightened. Then, and only then, 
would he feel any satisfaction, when he knew they were afraid and 
disgusted. 
Many a time he had been found out by angry husbands, but always he 
had been lucky, too fortunate, havingjust enough time to escape and leave
the trouble behind. 
He had no steady occupation. He  travelled  around the country, get- 
ting temporary jobs  -  ranging  from bar-work in public houses to heavy 
goods vehicle driving. He moved on as soon as there was any sign of
trouble with a married woman’s husband. 
Nick had never been to Southampton before now. It took only a week 
to find out where his daughter lived. 

25
A week had passed and Alison had not seen her father. They were still 
staying at Matthew’s house. Twice, Nick had broken into Alison’s house to 
find that Robin and Matthew were living there. When asked where Alison
and Harry were, Matthew replied, 
“Oh, the last couple who were here have moved to London. Sorry I 
haven’t got a forwarding address.” 
After that, Mr Whitley no longer disturbed Robin or Matthew, 
although he stayed in Milton road. 
Robin was revising hard for his examinations. This was fortunate for 
others as they were able to make great progress with their new project.
The professor had given them all a month’s holiday. 
The auto-suggestion had proved very successful. All three of them 
had managed to metamorphose into other animals and even imitate
other people. They found great amusement when changing themselves
into their tutor, mimicking his  continental  accent and strange manner- 
isms. With this new found gift, Alison no longer felt threatened by her 
father. 
The only problem they encountered at the moment was the length of 
time during which they had metamorphosed. Their transformation into
another animal lasting only a quarter of an hour at most. Hence, when in
the figure of a bird, they did not  endeavour  flying. 
The strange sensation felt by the students was that of a positive frenzy. 
In their initial enthusiasm for this most exciting and most promising ven-
ture, none of them had thought, either in the wrong hands or during the
wrong circumstances, how dangerous this knowledge could be. 
The feeling experienced by the students in their new found freedom 
of control over their appearance had become quite addictive. It was
thrilling to them, and they spent ninety-nine percent of their free time
devoted to their new fascination. Still, they did not inform Robin of their
achievement. 
It was the anniversary of the day Nick had raped Alison’s mother. The 
night was dark-there was a storm raging. There were clashes of thunder 
as though the Gods above were angered with the mere mortals below.
Quickly following the outrage were deadly bolts of lightning, being thrown 
mercilessly from the heavens above. The rain lashed against the window. It 
was too wet to venture out that evening. The streets were deserted, like
those of old Western ghost towns. 
Nick was driving home from Lyndhurst to Southampton. The noise of 
the rain, beating against the windscreen, drowned out the music playing
26 

from the car stereo. His windscreen wipers appeared to be moving in time
with the flashes of lightning illuminating the overcast sky. 
It was impossible to see into the distance  -  the bright lights of any 
vehicles coming from the opposite direction were not visible until they 
were quite  close.   Consequently, due to the bad weather, Nick returned to 
his abode, his lair, at about eleven-thirty that evening. This had been a 
great disappointment  -  it displeased him that he was unable to seduce 
anyone that night. 
The storm had affected Nick. Whether it was guilt or not, he was hav- 
ing flashbacks of when he had subjected his fragile wife to that night of
torture. That fragile object, like a piece of  fine porcelain figurine, which, so 
easily, he succeeded in shattering into a thousand minute fragments... 
Mr Whitley was not the only person who was being affected by the 
storm. It was frightening  -  the hot, sweaty, troubled  figure rolled over and 
over in the untidy bed. 
The strange voice screamed out, cursing and swearing that ‘He’ was 
going to die and that ‘He’ had lived long enough. Then, there was a silence
for a few seconds. Exactly what happened next  was hard to describe. 
After the voice had ceased to cry out with so much agony, the body 
calmed down and lay in the corpse position and commenced breathing
deeply. The face was  pale and the eyes opened suddenly, staring blankly 
into the darkness. Then! Then, there were a few mutterings, mumbled and 
incomprehensible. The body began levitating and became suspended in
mid-air. Its  arms  were stretched out, beating up and down. Then, it hap- 
pened  -  the body metamorphosed into a bird of prey. Its eyes were 
strange, emerald green, almost fluorescent and like torches. It guided itself
out through the open window and into the seaofthe raging tempest, which
had waged war against the world that night... 
By the following morning, the storm had subsided and there was a 
freshness in the air, as though  all the tension and anxiety had been cleared. 
Harry  had woken up early and had prepared some breakfast for 
Alison. 
“Ali?   Ali!  Wake up it’s ten o’clock.” 
Whilst gently shaking her, he spoke softly, his voice  as smooth as  vel- 
vet. Slowly, she stirred, rubbing her eyes. 
“God, I’m tired. I had a terrible night’s sleep and  -  oh, my arms are so 
stiff,” she replied, sluggishly. 
After she had eaten and dressed, Alison began reading the local 
paper. 
27
Suddenly, she dropped it and, turning white as a sheet, she screamed,
“Harry! Harry! Have you read this?! Do you know anything about 
this?!” 
Harry came running into the lounge.
“What? What do you mean? No, I haven’t read tbe paper yet. Slow 
down and explain, what is it I should read?” 
She pointed to the article.
“That’s it!” she said, shaking.
He read  the article - 

During the early hours of this morning, a Mr   Terence  Nicholas 
Whitley, 45, was killed. He was found by  neighbours  who had been alerted 
when they heard screaming coming from an upstairs  room  in his house in 
Milton   Road, Bedford Place. 
The victim’s face was badly scratched and his throat tom. Overall, the 
body was severely mutilated with deep slashes. Police are treating this 
case as a brutal murder but are baffled  to what the motive could be. There 
was no forced entry and nothing was stolen... 
Harry sat down, stunned. 
"What are you going to do? Will you be going to the Police station to 
get a few  more  details, or what?” 
That question was typical of Harry. He looked at things logically and 
realistically. 
“I suppose I’ll have to go down and explain that he was my father. I 
know I hated him, but never did I wish him dead. To think that he died the 
same night that mother committed suicide -maybe his conscience had 
finally caught up with him and he also committed suicide... No, maybe not.
From the brief description in the paper, he died  a gruesome  death. I won- 
der who did it...” 
Harry  moved  over to Alison and put his  arm  around her. 
“Ali,  I know it’s an awful thing to say, but it’s for the best. At least he can 
no longer harass you. He has got what he deserves, finally. It’s probably 
someone  from the underground  to  whom he  owed money. You, of  all 
people, must admit that he was no saint.” 
“You’re right! I don’t know why I’m feeling so sad or shocked. With his 
past there are probably lots of people  who’ve a  grudge  against him... Right! 
Shall we go and see the police and maybe they’ll tell us  more  about what 
happened?” 
They had spent several hours at the Police station. The only conclu- 
sion to which the inspectors and forensics had come, was that the slashes
28 

on the body  of  the deceased were made by the claws of some very large 
bird of prey. 
Alison had been bombarded with questions about his life history, and 
why had she not lived  with him when she was younger. At one stage, Alison 
felt  that  she  was in  the prosecution box  -  the perfect candidate with the 
perfect motive for murdering her father. 
She departed pale and withdrawn. For most of  the joumey back in the 
car, Alison remained quiet. Harry hummed along with the songs playing
on the radio.  Alison was the first to break the deafening silence. 
“Maybe it  was me. I loathed him  enough.  What  if it  was me? What  if, 
during the night, I had changed into a bird of prey without knowing, and
attacked him? That way, my attendance would have remained untraced...” 
She paused,  then  continued. 
“Oh Harry!  What  if it was me?  What  now-you don’t think  that  in the 
future, if anyone was ever to upset me, that I’d ever kill  them  without 
knowing it? God, I wish I’d  never  mentioned werewolves and metamor- 
phosis a few weeks ago. It’s  a good thing Robin never got involved  with this 
confounded project!” 
“Don’t blame yourself,  Ali.  There’s no way you would have done it  - 
you’re too soft-hearted and forgiving! But, come to think about it, it could
have  been   either  Matthew or  myself!" 
Instead of returning home, they visited Matthew and told him of Mr 
Whitley's  death. Now, their minds were preoccupied  with figuring out  who 
had committed the unexpected murder. 
29





The exceptionally cold night had made his limbs very stiff, but the discom- 
fort was over-ridden by the pain he experienced from his stomach. He had
not eaten for at least three days and he   was  reminded of this fact constantly 
as his stomach grumbled and growled fiercely at him. 

“Professor  Fergere,  are you there?” asked Robin. His deep, green eyes 
opened and once more they showed Robin’s surroundings and the grave 
discomfort felt by the unfortunate boy. A   tear  rolled down his cheek as he 
reflected back, thinking of his far easier life in his real world and more 
importantly, the love and support shown by his fellow students. If only he 
could be back there now, he could then   apologise to Alison for shouting at 
her and tell her how much he did love her... 
These thoughts were quickly expelled from his mind   as the professor 
spoke. Robin, remembering that he now had a more important duty in try 
ing to save the world from disaster, understood that his sorrows were, for 
the moment, secondary. 
“Robin, we’re ready, can you open your eyes again? I wasn’t ready 
when you had your eyes opened previously.” 
Robin did as he was bidden. In search of food, he had   travelled quite  a 
distance that morning from where he had slept the previous evening. 
“Is there any way that you   can get food to me here? I’m afraid   that I 
won’t be much help soon, I’m growing weaker and weaker as each moment
passes. For two hours now I’ve been looking for something, anything, that 
can be classed as edible, but unfortunately I’ve found nothing." 
“Don’t  worry  Robin, we’ll think of something. Where are you now?” 
“I’m approaching what used to be the old ports. I’ve heard   rumours 
that the System collect supplies from here, but when, I don’t know.” 
There was silence. The spectators just stared   through Robin’s eyes   - 
the emeralds -but these jewels held more secrets than the history of  any 
other prize stones. 
Matthew was the first to break the icy silence. 
“Going back  to getting food   to Robin, the main problem we have is  that 
he’s technically unconscious, so we can’t feed him conventionally through 
his mouth. But what if were were to feed him by having him put on a drip? At 
least that way we can ensure he’s getting the right balance of vitamins, etc. 
And also I’m not too happy at the thought of Robin eating anything
out there, as, if we are correct and there has been a nuclear
holocaust, then isn’t he in danger of eating food that has been contamin-
ated  by radiation? The last thing we want is Robin to die of radiation 
sickness.” 
What Matthew   had said  was correct, none of them  had   thought of how 
40 

dangerous it would   be for anyone to eat out there. Also   the idea of feeding 
Robin using  a drip was  a sensible and easy solution to their problem. 
“Matthew, well done. That’s a brilliant idea Alison, go and make the 
necessary arrangements. We want the drip connected to Robin as soon as 
possible." 
Alison did as the professor asked and left  the room, taking her coat. 
She had not been   out  of Matthew’s  house for days and her eyes felt sore as 
they tried readjusting to the sunlight. Now that she was actually out in the 
streets of the real world, it was only now that the full impact of what was 
going on in that ordinary house dawned on her. She had mixed feelings 
about what they were attempting to do. Was it right? That they were going 
to try and change the future by preventing a nuclear war? Or should they 
just concentrate   on getting Robin back here, to his   home, where once more 
she could act  as a mother to him, while they knew he had not been injured 
or killed? 
To  think of these unfortunate, ignorant people- they just lived day by 
day, working hard so that they could secure a happy retirement and also
keep up appearances to the other middle-class snobs. If only they knew 
what the future, in a year’s time, held! Then it would be a different image 
they would portray - no more Mr. Niceguy! From then on, it would be a fight 
for survival. But on the other hand, they would probably take the easy
route out by burying their empty, thoughtless heads in the sand. They
didn’t deserve to be saved. This sick society could maybe benefit from
something like the System, to keep a proper order over them... 
It did not take long to get the necessary  authorisation  to have Robin 
put on a drip at home, and not in a hospital, though it would have been
interesting to see the faces of the doctors and nurses when they saw 
Robin’s eyes. 
Before going back to the house, Alison went and did some shopping. 
Like Robin that morning, she was also feeling her stomach cry out for food. 
Again it had started to rain. As she drove up the High Street, returning to
Matthew’s house, she watched the pedestrians scurry quickly into the 
closest shop. 
After they had eaten, they continued their adventure with Robin, in 
the realms of the future. 
“Something important must be afoot, there is too much activity going 
on at the port today-it can’tjust be supplies that the System is expecting. 
As you can see, there are a lot of armed guards patrolling the place. I won-
der what they have got planned for these unsuspecting souls now. For the 
41
last few days they were trying desperately to clean up the city  and also to 
get some order. For the very desperate people, they were even supplying 
old clothes, which, however shabby, were a lot better than the old threads
the people had beforehand. You must remember that these people would
have lost all their clothing at the same time that they lost their homes.
What do you think could be the reasoning behind all this? You’ve been able 
to see the same things as me.” 
“Robin, have the System ever mentioned anything about a Leader? 
Have they ever done mass seminars, the dictating of any form of doctrine?
Do you know anything about what sort of political ideals they have and
wish the inhabitants to follow?” 
The professor’s tone of voice changed, it was no  longer just  inquisitive 
or finding  this an interesting experiment of the capabilities of the mind  - 
no, to the contrary, this had become a deadly serious reality of what was to
come. As it had  been  almost certainly a nuclear war that had left  thiscityin 
such a deteriorated state, then, by finding out what politics  the governing 
power  -  the System  -  held, it could be deduced who, if anyone, had won 
this bloodbath. 
In the distance they could see  a large vessel approaching, silhouetted, 
a black image against the skyline. A  yellow-grey  fog covered the sea like a 
thin wash  of paint in a picture,    glazing    slightly  the view of anyone on land.  It 
would be just a few hours now before the ship would arrive. 
Robin’s attention was drawn away from the ship, as he heard cries of 
protest. A long line of chained people were being forced to come to the 
dock. It looked as though the captors must have spent a fair amount of time
seeking out these   people who did not look like the usual starving, destitute 
crowd that roamed about  the  streets, moaning. No,  these were  the stronger 
of the people who, by using force and  a certain  amount of organisation,  had 
managed  to survive quite  adequately by stealing food from others, with  the 
smallest amount ofeffort. How the System had found their hide-away was a
mystery. What the System wanted with this rabble was also baffling. Surely,
they did not just want them as a welcoming party, to cheer and wave at
some unknown figure-  there would not be any need for the chains. Maybe 
the System thought these people to be a threat of   some  sort   and were   going 
to execute them. It could have been that  the  captives, who were getting 
stronger  each  day as  more  people joined them, had somehow, by what- 
ever means, found  out about what was going to happen t oday  and  had 
planned some scat of assassination. Knowing how the System worked,
Robin surmised that it would not be long before the System would
make it known what these selected few were going to have done to them. 

Always, if  any  punishments or executions were to take place, the event 
would be heavily advertised, so that the rest of the public could take note,
and hopefully, by inducing fear into the masses, a better form of order 
could be upheld. 
‘Robin, this sort of spectacle, does it occur often?”
‘No, I’ve never seen this kind  of mass persecution happen before.  I can 
make a few discrete enquiries,  that's if you want, but the only problem with 
doing anything like  that is that one can't ever be sure  that who you are talk- 
ing to isn’t an informant of the System. It would also mean  giving myself 
away, by getting out of this hiding place. I may be spotted by a guard from
the System -1 don’t know what they would do to me if they knew that I’ve 
been hiding here all morning, witnessing this sudden deployment of most
of their stronghold. Hey, I’ve just had an idea, tell me what you think of this
-if, as it seems, most of the System are assembled here, then what if I was
to go to their main base and see what I can find. They must   have someform 
of written  documentation. It’s not far away from here  -  say, quarter of an 
hour’s walk, that’s if I get up a fast pace. Anyway I can’t see the ship getting
into dock for a while yet.” 
“You’re sure that’s not going to be too dangerous? Once there, how do 
you propose getting into the place? They’ll still have some guards, and
there must be an extensive network of security.? 
“Well, I’ve nothing to lose by going there, I’ve never tried breaking into 
that  place before and I don’t know of anyone else attempting to either,” 
Carefully Robin got out of his hiding place, crept behind the other 
stacked boxes and, once the guard had moved and started to patrol in
another area, managed to run away. 
Robin kept to walking through the debris of buildings, as opposed to 
walking on the roads. More of the System were heading in the direction of
the  docks along the roads, and there was nothing worse for tempting fate 
than passing them a route. 
It was tiring for the rest, just watching Robin and not being out there 
to help him. They felt helpless, it was hard trying to advise him when  they, 
themselves, did not know enough about the place and how the System
worked. But maybe in time there would be something, more of use to the
boy, that  they could do. There were mixed emotions about  what Robin was 
doing On the one hand they were proud of the way he was handling his 
situation and the mature manner in which he had grasped the way of  sur- 
viving in such a run-down place that was run by brute force and violence. 
This caused them to feel awe; they stared into his eyes and watched  all tbe 
43

“This won’t take a minute  Ali,"  Robin whispered. 
It happened, what he was afraid of-one of the guards had heard his 
mumbles. Immediately they started shouting, 
“who’s there? Come  out  now!” 
Robin ignored their threats and continued with what he had in mind. 
He was right, it didn't take long - he metamorphosed straight into a mouse,
without having to go through a middle stage of transforming into a human
being. Again, it was a spectacular exhibition of his talent, showing how he
could utilise his psychic powers to do exactly what he wanted. He had
managed to change his being just in time, before the guards had reached 
the chamber, He crawled into a dark  corner  and curled his  tail in towards 
his white, furry body. At last the guards left, they blamed each other for
what they heard previously and continued patrolling their patch. For that 
instant the mouse had to keep his eyes closed, as it feared its torch-like gaze
would attract attention and result in the guards trying to capture him -it
would be a novelty to possess a white mouse which also had green eyes
that shone so bright. 
Robin had been right earlier on, there were  some form of lights that 
were run on electricity. There must have been a generator built  some- 
where near by. 
The professor was busy going over the plans of the shafts he had made 
when  the owl  had flown  through  them. At the same time he had recorded 
what each  room appeared to be used for. There was one particular area 
which did not have a shaft but, if his plans had been sketched correctly,
contained a large space which was unaccounted for. The professor 
checked and rechecked his calculations and when he was convinced that
he  was right, he gave Robin directions to where this place should be. 
It was what they were hoping to find. There were numerous filing 
cabinets and shelves, upon which stacks of files sat collecting dust. In  a 
comer, between the shelves and the largest of the filing cabinets, several
cardboard tubes stood upright. Harry was the first to spot them. 
“Robin, don’t you think it would be a better idea that you changed 
back to yourself  -  there’s no way you can read any of those papers if you’re 
that size. Anyway, 1 think that those tubes in that comer, to the right of you,
hold some sort of plans. There’s not much time left, you’ll have to leave 
soon if you’re to get back to the  port." 
Harry spoke calmly, but there was a him of severity in his voice. It was 
as if he was  slightly jealous  of Robin having this sort of adventure,  of which 
he would have given anything to be a part-all that excitement and terror,
where time was the most important and most limiting factor. It beat
46 

just watching something similar in a film, living in a boring life that was 
monotonous  and just dragged on. 
On the other hand, maybe it was best that it was Robin who was out 
there- none of the other students  had as much power as  their rival.  If they 
were going to be able to save the world from total destruction and, what
seemed  to be an extreme fascist system of rule,   then only one person could 
be safe, and  only   one person meant there would be less risk of getting 
caught by the  System. After reasoning  out the bad  and good  points for hav- 
ing Robin out there,   an overwhelming feeling of guilt rushed through 
Harry. He had  no right to feel jealous. That was one of his bad  traits,  time 
and time  again he tried overcoming it, but it was in-bred into his character. 
He craved anything that offered excitement and danger. He was the sort of 
person  who  was not happy unless he was doing something that, if he did 
not get it right first time, could very well cost him his life as the penalty. 
Alison and Matthew were the opposite to Harry They also enjoyed a 
bit of excitement, but never did they get jealous if someone else appeared 
to be doing something extraordinary 
Robin had regained his former shape and was busily scanning 
through the plans. As yet  hehadnot  found anything that culd   be of imme- 
diate  use to them. The professor noted the more important  of the facts, just 
in case they would be needed later. Within one of the older of the scrolls of
plans, a piece of paper dropped out. As Robin read through it he turned 
completely pale. Stunned, the reaction of the students and the professor
was similar to that of the young boy. 
It all made a lot more sense now.    How stupid could  they have been? All 
this time they had been convinced that they knew what had been the out- 
come of the war  -  that it  was probably one of the Superpowers that had 
been the victor. At the time of the nuclear war, this sort of inside infor-
mation about the country which had emerged victorious, would have 
made a tremendous difference, allowing more of the world’s population to
survive the horrors and devastation created by the explosion of a nuclear
weapon... 
Again, they heard the footsteps  of the guards,  their voices beingrather 
muffled due to the sound echoing along the narrow corridors. Once more
Robin went through the same routine of preparing himself before metam-
orphosing, this time changing into an eagle. Swiftly he flew, along the
winding shafts to the air vent through which he had entered, and out into
the cold air. 
It was early afternoon now, and the sun’s rays were stronger. They had 
47
managed to penetrate the initial blanket of cloud, radiating its warmth 
below. The bird wept for a short while as it soared high above  -  Robin felt 
sad as he looked down below and witnessed the mournful sight. 
It was not long until Robin reached the port. He was just in 
time. The  ship was a lot bigger  than they were expecting- it was rather like 
the ones seen in history books depicting the seaworthy  vessels 
of the   Romans.  Its oars moved in unison, flowing like the waves of 
the sea. 
Robin shocked his friends by flying onto the ship and gliding into the 
hull. There he remained undetected, perched on one of the beams. He saw
lots of slaves being whipped as they were ordered to row faster. It  was so 
barbaric, seeing people chained up like animals, although these  unfortu- 
nate  creatures were treated in a far worse way than anyone would ever 
contemplate abusing their own animals. 
He flew out of the ship just before it reached the dock, making 
sure that where he landed he was not seen, but was able to see all that was
going on. 
Suddenly everything went silent. Terror swept across the faces of the 
members of the System as a short, well-built figure disembarked the
heavily armed vessel. His face was half hidden by the unusual hat he wore. 
Robin caught a glimpse of  the  stranger’s eyes, cold and merciless, showing 
no compassion. 
The crowd’s attention was diverted as a  very worried  man ran to the 
stranger and spoke apprehensively in a low voice. Whatever the  man had 
to say displeased his leader  and resulted in  the very cold  killingof the man, 
who was obviously a member of the System. The stranger drew his sword
and with one, clean blow, cut the man’s head off. Then, he turned to the
crowd, cleaning the blood off his sword by pulling  the  blade  slowly 
between  his lips. Blood dripped down from one side of his smile. 
Dread dispersed through the entire force of the System  as the stranger 
spoke  - 
“Someone has broken into the   Regional  Headquaters   and read 
through System documents. The person or persons who committed this 
atrocity must be found.” 
“Yes  Yabushi,” replied the crowd. The majority of the guards split 
themselves into groups and departed in different directions. 
Despair hit Robin and his friends. The  eagle flew towards the streets at 
the  centre  of the demolished city, He watched  as the  paupers  were told of 
the break-in.
48 

t The System waited a few minutes for someone to come  forward  and 
admit  to the crime. 
  No one did so.
Immediately, the System resorted to  violence.  Beating  the men  firstly, 
until  they either died or just fell unconscious from the sheer pain. 
There  was a shrieking wind of despair, people running in all  direc- 
tions,  trying to find some place to hide. Few could escape before a  guard 
  would  cut them down, using a sword or a thrown knife. No longer were 
there  puddles of water in the streets, but pools filled with blood from 
-the  innocent. Unsuspecting people, too weak to retaliate, or even have 
thoughts  of breaking into any complex, especially one  that  the System 
 kept well guarded. 
They burned down  the half-made shelters of the inhabitants, and 
stripped  a lot of them of them of their clothes, degrading them even more. 
The guards were  in a positive frenzy--a hysteriaflowed through them 
like  a current of electricity, resulting in them turning to more violent 
means  of  terrorising  the people. 
Women were abused in  front  of their husbands and children. Where 
that did not produce a result, children were being tied up in groups and 
threats were made to set light to them. 
It was not just  Alison who felt physically sick at  this hideous spectacle 
    the  others sitting next  to  her had also turned a deathly white. 
It was difficult for anyone to run through   the streets, as dead bodies lit- 
 tered  the  way. Tears and cries of anguish filled the air, the wind carrying the 
  sounds  for miles around. Smoke  from  smouldering ground   spiralled  high 
  up. 
  “I can’t let this go on... I’ll have to give myself up,” Robin said to the 
others,   tears streaming from his glazed eyes. He gulped as he tried to  swal- 
low. Never had  he imagined  that anything so horrific would happen. These 
couldn’t be human beings carrying out such extreme atrocities  -  no one 
 could be so inhuman! 
Could they?
How much more could they do before they  realised  that what they 
were doing was useless? 
“Robin, don’t  give yourself up. If you do, then all this will have been a
49 

The professor felt compassion for the youngster. He could feel the 
Pain Robin  was experiencing but, no, it would not be the right thing to do, 
for Robin to  turn  himself over to them.

still they have to resort to violence as the ultimate means to   an end. It’s in 
the human’s genetic make-up to use primitive methods as a way of 
exerting their power.” 
“Robin, don’t close your eyes. Shutting yourself off from us isn’t going 
to help you feel any better. Yes, I do agree with you. People like Yabushi 
have abused their right to having life, they have no right to live. But we are
not God and cannot pass   judgement on others. All we can do is make sure 
that we, ourselves, don’t act beneath our dignity and lower ourselves to 
their level of ignorance.” 
The professor paused, waiting to see whether what he had said had 
had the desired effect of reassuring Robin. 
There was silence. Robin was contemplating what the professor had 
said. The words churned over and over in his mind, but at intervals he
could hear the screams of the women and children whose lives were
brought to such a  cruel end. 
He was  in twominds, still... the   memory of the guards smiling, gloating 
at their good work -  it was haunting. 
“Robin, don’t  think about it. It has not really happened, remember 
you’re in the future. If you help us, then hopefully this holocaust won’t ever 
happen.” 
“Okay, you’re right. It’s just that I never ever thought that anyone 
could be so callous. Those images are fixed quite strongly in my
mind. But don’t worry, I shall not cut myself off  from  you, I’ll help as 
best I  can." 
Relief spread across the face of the professor as Robin uttered those 
words of recognition. 
There was silence   as everybody sat deep in thought, thinking to see if 
they had overlooked anything vital. They went back over what they had 
read in those documents and also the build up of events before Yabushi 
arrived. 
Matthew was the first to break the silence. 
“What about those men and women who had been taken down to the 
port in chains? We never did find out for what purpose they were going to
be used. Do we know where they were taken when the bloodbath started?
I think we should find them and see if we can get any more information.
They must be pretty important, they were not touched   at all  by the System 
when it went on its rampage.” 
“Professor? Matthew has got a valid point there, that is something 
we overlooked during all the excitement. I’ll try the ship first  -  after 
the break in at their stronghold this morning, they will be guarding that 
well. Yabushi has probably reprimanded his men severely. I wonder what
52 

position Yabushi holds in the System... we’ll probably find out  soon 
enough.” 
Robin stopped speaking and flew to the ship and found it heavily 
guarded. That morning’s incident must have had a great impact on them. 
They were not taking any chances with security  -  probably the guards 
were too scared, worried in case they ended up being executed. 
Once he had reached the hull of the ship, he metamorphosed into  a 
brown mouse and scurried across the floor as silently as possible-he did 
not want to end up becoming someone’s delicacy, 
The stench of the slaves, who had been used to row the vessel, was 
overwhelming, almost enough to knock someone out. The grime and dirt
that coated the planks of wood made it hard for the mouse to move swiftly, 
Nearby, an almost starving man concentrated his vision on a cockroach. 
Then, like lightning, his hand shot out and grabbed his target. After
briefly inspecting his prize, the man popped it into his mouth and
crunched on it hard. A look of satisfaction spread across his face as he 
swallowed. 
There were scars on the bare backs of most of the men. Some had 
open wounds and their skin looked very  raw.  There were moans and 
coughs. The diseases and infections that these men had contracted, in
such  an unhygienic place, must have been numerous. One would have 
thought that such working conditions would have been abolished during
the Middle Ages. 
It was not just the smell of the crew that filled the hull. As Robin 
breathed in he detected the strong smell of a very badly fouled area. There
were no receptacles of any description in which the men could urinate. It 
was doubtful that they were ever freed from  the heavy, iron chains that 
bound them so tightly. Most of them were slumped over their oars, trying
to sleep in the most comfortable position that would suit the small space 
available to them. 
Two guards came down and removed one of the crew. He was dead. 
The poor soul had either died from over exhaustion or some disease   -  the 
former seemed the likeliest. 

Robin left this squalid place of hiding and went to explore the rest of 
the ship. He did not find what he was looking for. 
Before leaving, Robin set fire to the Captain’s cabin, the navigational 
charts burning easily. Guards released the crew from the hull-manpower
did not come easily   -  and the vessel had to be abandoned. It was a spec- 
tacular sight, the flames enveloping the whole structure, beautiful against 
the rapidly sunsetting sky, black smoke spiralling  up to a certain height 
53

‘Professor, what am I going to do about getting them out, it’s well nigh 
impossible.” 
“Robin, what about finding the generator? If you can put that out of 
action, then hopefully for a while the guards will be preoccupied. That will
at least give you  some time to get past them.” 
“Have you any idea where the generator is? Also... I was wondering, 
there must be another air vent that leads to the outside on the ground
floor. Maybe it’ll be better if I can get them out that way. After they are out
in the open air, it’s basically up to them to get over the fence. Then  I’ll  take 
them to that old, derelict building, where I sleep each night.” 
“We can only try  Robin," replied the professor. 
“I think  that if there is  an air vent leading to the outside on the ground 
floor,” said Matthew, 
“It should be situated at the wall directly opposite the front  entrance." 
He spoke hesitantly. He did not like to comment, unless he was sure 
that he was right. 
Robin scurried away, leaving  the  captives eating. He made his way to 
where the air vent hopefully would be situated. After a careful search of all
the rooms  that  were  against the north wall, he found the air vent to be 
under a table. Now that Robin knew where the air vent was, he was able to 
proceed in trying to locate the generator. 
“Robin, wait a minute, if we think about this logically, then we maybe 
able to prevent you having to waste a lot of energy needlessly, trying to find
the generator. Now, the ground air vent is situated on the north wall. The
front  entrance is on the south wall. The prisoners, that we want to set free, 
are being kept on the east side. Now, the air vent which was situated high 
up, just under the roof-  that, if I'm right, is on  the west  wall. The generator 
will be in the basement on the west wall because, if you remember, there
was one big tube leading directly down  from the air vent. I’m just trying to 
think where Yabushi and the guards’ quarters are situated, in proportion 
to the  rest  of  the main sites... Ah, I remember,  they are near the  room  in 
which all the documents and plans are kept  -  that’s all on  the  west side.” 
‘If you are right about where the generator is situated, then that 
makes it easier for me to get them out with the minimum amount of  fuss." 
Robin made his way towards the west wall. He had to be   very 
cautious, as the professor had been right about where Yabushi and  the 
guards were. He kept his small mouse face looking down so that the green,
fluorescent eyes would not be noticed. 
There were numerous moms, the corridors and the outside of each 
room  looked alike. All the rooms were exactly the  same  size, lots of square 

boxes, like children’s building bricks placed neatly in rows and columns. 
At the end of the  row there was a door which was shut. After making sure 
there was no one in the corridor, the mouse regained his former being. He 
opened the creaking, heavy door and crept in. There it was, the noisy
machine. It sat there in the middle of the room, vibrating as it produced
electricity. 
“What do I do with it?”
“Robin, walk round it so that I can get a good look at its structure.” 
The boy followed the professor’s instructions. Slowly he walked 
around the generator, standing longer at the areas  more  decorated  with 
wires and tubes. 
“Now, Robin, you see the two  tubes  that run  parallel to each other, the 
one that allows the water to go into the generator? Well, the valve along
that tube, that’s what you’ll have to close. Basically, what will happen is
that this will cause the generator to overheat. That way the power should
stop and if the  error  is not rectified quickly, it will start a fire and eventually 
explode. Now, what you’ll have to do is go back to the captives, get them to 
:
  start going through the vent and then, using your mind, turn off the valve- 
jamming it shut completely. Give it three minutes, then short circuit  the 
elechics. A spark should set the whole thing ablaze. Good luck Robin, I’m
sure you’ll do just  fine." 
Robin made his way back to the imprisoned people. Just before enter- 
ing their confinement, he waited for the guards to walk in the opposite
direction. Then, he changed himself into a human being and sneaked into
the cell. 
“Don’t say a word! I’m to get you out of here before they make other 
arrangements for shipping you away.” 
The rabble stood there dumbfounded, their mouths gaping wide 
open. How did this small, young boy get in here and how did he know they 
were being kept here? These were the sort of questions whirling around in
their minds. For all they knew he could have been working for the System.
To them it seemed ridiculous that anyone would risk his life to come and 
save them. 
“Anyway, it would be impossible to escape from this place. I wonder 
how this little mite proposes to do it,” thought one of the captives. He was a
tall. broad man  -  stocky built,  probably  the leader. 
Robin  turned  to  the man  and spoke. The  man was quite bemused that 
Robin had answered the query that had been milling about in his head. 
“Yes sir, I can understand you being rather suspicious of me, but you 
needn’t be. I can get you all out of  here, just  listen to what I have got to say
and follow my instructions carefully. After I’ve got you all out of here, I’ll 
take you to a place for safe-keeping.” 
"But that’s what I mean, there are guards outside the door  -  we can’t 
just walk  out  of here.” 
“1 told you just to listen and to follow my instructions.” 
The leader nodded in recognition and bowed his head, somewhat 
taken aback. 
“Now, don’t mind what I’m about to do next, just follow me and  above 
all, keep silent. I don’t want to hear a word until we are well clear from  here 
Under&d?” 
Robin stood still and did not utter a word. He started breathing 
deeply, there it was again, what had now become his trademark   -  he 
metamorphosed into an eagle. His talons ripped the thick sheet of metal
gauze away from the entrance of  the  air vent He jumped onto the floor of 
the shaft and walked along it,  the  others following quickly. Robin  would 
have liked to have  flown through the shafts, but he had to guide the prison- 
ers through the complex maze of tunnels. The prisoners were still in shock 
- never had they seen anything like  that  before! 
Whilst strutting along, Robin concentrated his mind on firstly  replac 
ing  the gauze on the entrance of the air vent, then on switching the  water 
valve off. He made sure the   electrics  would cause a short circuit five 
minutes after the water had been cut off. 
It was not long until the escapees had reached the north wall. Again, 
Robin used his talons for tearing the gauze away. As  soon as he had got out 
of the shaft, the eagle transformed himself back into his  true  self. The 
rebels scrambled out of the rather cramped shaft, shocked again to see 
that their  saviour  had now turned back into a young,  scruffy boy. Still they 
did not say a word. Robin led them away to the fence. 
Suddenly, it happened. There was a mighty explosion  and tongues of 
fire scaled the walls of the Eastern side. Smoke towered above the building     
and reached out across the overcast sky. The red flames looked  strangely 
beautiful against the pitch black sky. Screams of chaos could be heard. 
They reached the fence. Once again, Robin used his mind to give him 
the strength to roll  enough  of the fence up, so that his followers could pass 
underneath. 
“Well done Robin,” the professor commended,
“That was done very nicely. I think the System should be kept quite 
busy for the time  being." 
He was very pleased with Robin, though he was not  sure  whether the 
58 

boy had done the right thing in showing the other people what he was cap-
able of. That could have been a bad move.  It could have one of two effects; 
firstly,  they  might feel threatened by Robin and try killing him when he 
was asleep, or, secondly, they might become  very good allies and hence be 
of some use. 
They followed Robin religiously to the old ruin, where he had slept 
the previous night. 
He  led them down the creaky, dry stairs to  the  cellar. It was very dusty, 
and the place reeked of dampness, with moss and some fungi growing on
the cracks between the bricks. 
As soon as they had sat down on the  floor, Robin spoke to  the group of 
men and women. 
“It is safe for us to speak  now,"  said Robin. He turned to address the 
leader. 
“You see? It was not impossible to get out of there. I know you 
doubted me back there, but you did have good reason. I expect you have a
few questions that you would like answered by me. After you’ve finished,
I’ve got a few questions of my own that I would like answered. By the way,
what’s your name?” 
"My name is James but people call me Jimmy, I used to be a  jour- 
nalist... before. Now, I don’t know what you did back there, but was it you 
that we saw change into  an eagle?” 
“Yes, you weren’t dreaming, it was I who changed into  an eagle. Before 
you ask, I’m not a witch of any sort. You’ve nothing to be afraid of. I’m here
to help you fight the System. I need you to cooperate with me, to fight with 
me not against me.” 
“How did  you get to us without the guards noticing you?” 
“That wasn’t too difficult once I had planned out a strategy. What I did 
was to create a diversion. The System, as you probably know, have a gener-
ator to produce electricity. Well, all I did was make sure  that  the tubes, 
which allowed the  water to  flow around  the engine,  could not  perform  that 
vital function.  I switched off the  valve,  therefore causing the engine within 
to overheat and hence cut off the electricity. The explosion you heard was
due to me timing the  electrics  to short circuit, and thus cause a fire, five 
minutes after having turned off the valves. That gave me enough time to 
get you all clear of the building” 
“Have you any parents here?”
“No I haven’t. They died in a fire.” 
“Well, it’s a wonder that you’ve survived so long by   yourself!  Now, you 
wanted  some questions answered, fire away. After saving us today, we are 
indebted to you. If we can help you in any way, feel free to ask.” 
59
“Now what I need is, firstly, to know what was the exact date on which 
they started to drop thehombs?   
What I don’t understand is this. I presume 
the war was initially between Russia and America, so how come China is 
now  ruling Great Britain?” 
“The date that the first bomb was dropped was on the seventh of 
April, nineteen eighty-nine. From what I can understand, as   soon  as it was 
apparent that a nuclear war was inevitable, there were a lot of reports 
about the disappearance of people from the most populated cities in
China This had stunned the other nations of the world. The Chinese 
leader told the leaders of the main Superpower countries to surrender 
their  rule to him, before any nuclear exchange commenced. You can 
imagine, I think, the general response was a laugh in Mao Tse Chaiks’ face. 
It was then made known to the world that China had a number of under-
ground cities already built, in preparation for a nuclear holocaust. There
were also  rumours that they had been pouring millions, over the last 
decade and a half, into scientific research, for the growing of fungi, mosses 
and other smaller plants, without light, and without soil. The conditions
which would be available to any plant in a subterranean environment. 
Well of course the Superpowers took this all with a pinch of salt. To them it 
seemed impossible, their scientists hadn’t had any major breakthroughs
on that front, therefore it  was highly inconceivable that the Chinese, of all 
people, would have achieved it.” 
“You mean to say that they had succeeded in finding an alternative 
way of producing vegetation. I can see why now, it certainly does make 
sense. Why risk contaminating your nation with radiation from food 
exposed to radioactive fallout?” 
“Do you need to know any more? I should think that the rest was 
quite apparent” 
“Where were you getting food supplies? Obviously it was not just 
what  you were able to find in the streets,” 
“No, we got the majority of our supplies from the System: They didn’t 
give them to us, we stole bits and pieces off   them when their supply ship 
came in. There’s one nearly every two weeks. In fact the next supply of 
food should be coming in  tomorrow." 
“Right,  I think  the best thing we can do is get a good night’s sleep. We 
are going to have a very busy day tomorrow.   I’ll  explain what I   propose  we 
do as soon as I have it all planned out in my mind.” 
“Thank you again for what you did for us today. You can count on our 
support in future,” Jimmy replied. He then proceeded to order  the rest of 
his people and then told them where they were to sleep. He had instructed
them to take good care of   this strange young boy. They didn’t even know 
60 

his name, but they were quite happy to trust him and help him in the best
way they could. 

Robin did not get to sleep until the very early hours of the next  morn- 
ing.  He went outside the shelter to speak to the professor. 
“It all makes sense now! I bet you anything that those people were 
going to be shipped back to China. They would have been needed to build 
more underground cities. The odds are that they have had a population
explosion and are running out of living space.” 
“Yes, and what better than to use slave  labour. Once finished, they 
could proceed to kill them off, like a pair of  worn gloves being discarded 
after the winter is over,” replied Robin. 
“It would be interesting if we could discover how the Chinese 
managed to grow vegetation in such adverse conditions: the professor
said,  trying hard to think of a way in which  he could find out. However, con- 
sidering that the food was transported  from China to here, it was evident 
that there would have been no record of that needed here. 
“To think chat the Superpowers, for so long   now,  have been so con- 
cerned and wrapped up in spending billions on weapons, that they didn’t 
think that they would all become useless after a war, if some nation, such
as China, prepared for a world after such an event. It’s ironic to think that 
what everybody thought of as being a very poor country could have so
much going for it. The leaders had actually considered the fate of their
people in such an event and had succeeded in finding some way of
protecting them.” 
Robin had found this quite impressive. He hated the System though, 
for their cold blooded massacre of the innocent people today. 

In one section of   the documents which they had read, they found   writ- 
ten evidence of killings in China It appeared that the Chinese had slowly
killed off the terminally ill and old people. They had told the families that 
there had been nothing they could do for   the unfortunate sufferers, that the 
state had tried its best. They had blamed the other   nations for  not cooperat- 
ing and giving information about necessary cures for diseases and other
ailments. Really, what had happened was that the people had been ‘put
down’, like unwanted animals. The Chinese had viewed these people  as 
being an unnecessary burden. All they would do was eat food, breathe in 
valuable air and take up space. To think that doctors and nurses were 
meant to be there as people one could trust  -  one hoped that they would try 
their best to save the life of a loved one, not take matters into their  own 
hands, to choose when someone should die, playing God. 
61





that a community such as this will never exist. I’m going to find it hard to 
readjust to the real world when I return. Leaving here is going to be like
leaving part of myself behind.” 
“I’m pleased you’ve come to a decision. I can appreciate how hard it 
has been for you, but believe me, I wouldn’t have asked you to leave if I felt 
that I was wrong.” 
“Shall I go and say goodbye to them?” 
“No,” replied the professor after a moment’s thought,
“If you say nothing, they may think that you were killed while flying. 
In case you hadn’t noticed, correct me if I’m wrong. but that wind looks as 
though a storm is going to follow it shortly? 
“Okay, I suppose you’re   right.  That way they won’t feel as though I’ve 
abandoned them. Maybe then they can remember me with fond 
memories.” 

Now that it had been decided that Robin was going to  return  to the 
real world, it came down to basics, the big question being how? He had
travelled through time to this world, in the future, from his bedroom in 
Devonshire Road. It could be a logical idea that he should try getting back 
to the time zone, from which he came, by returning to Devonshire Road 
and finding the exact location of his house. It was only an idea,   as none of 
them knew anything about time   travelling.  However, it was the only thing 
they had to work on. 
Robin wandered around his make shift shelter, giving it a last look 
over before departing from it forever. He took his coat and left, a  tear 
coming to his eye. The wind   was  blowing with a vengeance, howling with 
anger as the black storm clouds were whisked along hurriedly. There was 
thunder, clashing as it waged war against the rain, and lightning which 
illuminated the night sky brilliantly. Robin used the lightning as a natural 
torch, to guide him through   the desolate streets. The storm reminded him 
of the night he had murdered  Alison's father, Mr  Whitley. 
This memory was his saving. By picturing himself that night, Robin 
metamorphosed into an eagle and depended on the flashback  of returning 
from Nick’s house to guide himselfback to Devonshire Road and his home. 
It was like sleep walking, the way in which Robin found his way back 
to the exact spot, as though there was some kind of magnetic force, draw- 
ing him to his destination. Once there, Robin spoke to Professor  Fergere. 
“I’m here. What do I do now? How am I to get back to you?” 
“I can’t say... I don’t know.   We'll just  have to make sure that you keep us 
informed as to what you see and feel. We can only advise you.” 
Robin sat down in the Lotus position, his legs crossed. He traced his 
72 

thoughts back to what his room looked like, then he put himselfinto   a very 
deep trance. 
“I’m going to   return to my bedroom and wake up in my bed,” Robin 
said  repeatedly. He could feel himself being levitated upwards. 
“Robin  come  to me. My hands are held out to you, hold them so I can 
lead you back to  me." 
“I can’t, I can’t see anything.” 
“What do you mean, you can’t see anything?  What's stopping you?" 
“Can’t you see it? Straight ahead of me, there’s just a bright white 
: light Its brilliance forces me to partially shield my eyes, I can’t look at it 
directly." 
‘Is that white light all around you, or is it only straight ahead of you?” 
Robin looked around him and replied to the professor.
“Behind me, where I’ve been moving from, the light is still there. To 
  the left and right of me, there appears to be numerous dark paths. Which of
the paths should I take?” 
“Robin! Whatever you do, do not leave the path with the bright light.  I 
can’t explain why, but instinct tells me that you must follow the bright 
  light otherwise  you’ll be lost from us forever. Your mind will just wander 
about for the rest of eternity,  lost." 
“But I don’t like it on this path. It’s   too hot  and the light is hurting my 
eyes. If I’m to stay on this path, then I’ll have to keep my eyes open.” 
“Robin, only keep your eyes partially open and listen to my voice. 
Imagine my voice as being a piece of rope tied around your waist, pulling 
you towards me. Just keep hold of the rope.” 
Professor  Fergere  continued to call Robin, using his monotone voice. 
“Robin, come to me.” 
As Robin travelled along the illuminated path, he could hear other 
voices, beckoning him to go to them. Their hands reached out to him from 
the darker paths. They hummed and, in the distance, he heard the sweet
singing of an Angel -  like harmonies. They were so inviting, he so much 
wanted to meet the person who possessed the perfect singing voice. It was 
a pleasure to listen to it, so relaxing and soothing. It made Robin feel as 
though  he was floating about with the notion that there were no cares in 
the world, that he had entered paradise itself. 
He started drifting towards the voice. It was as pure   as water trickling 
down the mountain side, flowing  from the melting ice-cap at the peak. 
Other voices were telling him to come closer: 
“Come on... you are almost there. Once you get here you can listen to 
the beauty of this sweet, innocent singing for eternity.? 
He followed the swaying hands that appeared to waft him closer to 
73
the singing. The voice, like that of the Siren, seemed to be  hypnotising him, 
drawing him closer. His eyes were wide open but no longer did they hurt 
from the bright light. He had left that far behind. 
“Robin! Where are you? What’s happened to the bright light?” 
“Don’t speak,  Professor  Fergere...  just listen to that song, it’s so pure. 
The person singing must be so beautiful. I have to see her!” replied Robin.
The professor’s voice had become fainter. 
‘Robin? Robin!” shouted Professor  Fergere anxiously, 
“Don’t let that singing, that chanting, deceive you. There’s nobody at 
the end of that path you’re presently  following.  It’s a trick, just a sound 
echoing, produced by other lost souls. They are evil, it’s the forces of dark- 
ness that have got a grip on you at the moment.” 
“It can’t be evil behind this singing, it’s too beautiful.” 
“Robin... now don’t make me lose my patience with you. Just listen to 
me. Follow my voice back to the bright light. Ignore the singing, you don’t 
want to get lost from us forever. It doesn’t care about you, it has other
motives for keeping you there.” 
The professor’s voice had caused the singing to cease, it had shied 
away. There  was only child-like laughter, mocking Robin’s foolishness. 
"You’re  lost! There’s no way you’ll find the  path you want. No use you 
turning around, you’ve been walking round in circles for ages now. Which
direction are you going to go...? See?! You don’t know!” 
“Robin,"  the professor cried out, 
“Follow my voice, just follow it! You’ll know if you’re going in the  right 
direction because my voice will seem louder. I’ll continue to talk to you   - 
just listen and let me guide you in the right direction.” 
The lost  souls started to speak again. 
“We’d give up if we were you. There’s no use you even trying. It’s 
impossible to leave once you’ve got here.” 
“I don’t care what you say,   I’ll  listen to the professor! He’s my friend, 
not you.- 

Robin blanked out the voices of the lost souls and concentrated on 
the professor’s monologue. He was almost at the path when he took the 
wrong turning  -  once more Professor  Fergere’s  voice was starting to 
become more distant. Robin retraced his steps until the professor’s words 
became louder. He was almost there, through the dark mist he  caught a 
small glimpse of light. As he got closer, he could see a beam   of light  shining 
down, like a shaft of morning sunlight shining through a dusty, hazy win- 
dow in some old derelict mansion... 
Robin jumped. The hair on the back of his head stood up on end as he 
74 

heard a piercing screech from behind him. He glanced back, but saw   noth- 
ing.  He could hear thuds, rather like footsteps, following the same pace   as 
himself. 
“Don’t be distracted by that,” urged the professor,
“They can’t   harm you. Concentrate on me, on my voice.” 
Robin continued walking at the same steady pace as before. Through 
the fog he could see the bright light, like that at the end of a tunnel. It  was 
so  close now, he thought he could almost reach out and touch it. 
“Look,  professor, I’m almost there! Just a few steps more.   I’ll  soon be 
back safely with you all, where I belong.” 
“That’s tight Robin. Now,  carry  on until you reach  the path. Don’t dis- 
tract yourself with other thoughts. Concentrate on my voice.” 

Finally he was there, on the path. The bright  light made him squint for 
a moment, as his eyes   readjusted  to its brilliance. Robin looked down at his 
feet -  and viewed the strangest scene ever. There was a fine white mist 
swirling about. As gaps were appearing between the mists, he noticed that 
there was no solid path below him, He  was walking in space, a deep blue 
and purple sea that seemed to be never ending, going on to infinity. 
“How much further do I have to go? Am I close?” Robin asked, his 
voice conveying great tiredness. 
The last few weeks had been an immense taxation of his psychic 
powers. He was mentally,  as well as physically, fatigued. A great deal of 
energy had been expended; using these resources to the utmost, to ensure 
his survival. His pace got slower, his feet  dragged, the  journey  home 
seemed  neverending. 
“I can’t keep on walking for very much longer, I’m too tired. I want to 
sleep, to lie on a soft bed, putting my head  down to rest  and sleeping for 
centuries.” 
“You don’t want to sleep yet. Change to  an eagle, then you can fly 
swiftly to your journey’s end.” 
Again, Robin followed the professor’s advice. He metamorphosed 
into an eagle and allowed his wings to carry him, his feet being given a rest. 
The professor’s voice was getting very loud, surely he was approach- 
ing the junction between infinite time and his real world, nineteen 
eighty-seven. He was accelerating now, out of control, he   was  being drawn 
towards the professor. 
"I’m  almost there now, I’m going to metamorphose back into  my 

human self.” 
Suddenly, there was a   great flash of white light and a mighty clash in 
Robin’s bedroom, as the  travelling being crashed through from one time 
75
zone into another. He landed on his bed with an  enormous  force,  and 
passed  out. 

The professor brought the doctors in, to give Robin a thorough 
examination. 
The boy was all right. The drip was removed and they were given a 
special diet sheet for Robin. He slept all that day and night, and woke up at
lunchtime the next day. He had a bath, the first one for at least a month,
something which he was in desperate need of. Then he had a light meal  - 
boiled, white fish and a couple of boiled potatoes. 
Everyone was spoiling him, giving him plenty of love and affection, 
making sure that he had everything he asked for. He was waiting to see
when the professor would bring up, in the various topics of conversation,
more questions regarding his life in the other world. It was not until the
evening that the professor decided they should start discussing what 
Robin had been subjected to in the future world. They talked for hours, 
going into fine detail about the System, their role in ruling the British 
people,  and how the world was before Robin destroyed the existence of 
the governing body, by what was nothing short of a revolution. 
Professor Fergere produced the dossier of notes that he had made. 
They detailed Robin’s  movements  and also contained abridged state- 
ments of any documents and newspaper articles that they had happened 
upon. His writing was undecipherable. Most of the strokes appeared to be
the same and the fact that he wrote his personal notes in  German  did not 
help the matter. It just made it harder for the students to read them. 
“Should we start with when Robin first told us of his surroundings?” 
said professor Fergere, 
“I think, by starting from the beginning, we can add any additional 
details that had been over-looked at the time.” 
“That’s not a bad  idea," replied Robin, 
“But, must  we get through everything this evening? I’m still very tired 
and feeling weak. I should appreciate having an early night. In my mind I
don’t see the point of rushing anything. If we are going to do this, we might
as well take  a bit of time over it, to ensure that it is done well. Otherwise it 
will all be wasted.” 
“Okay, we'll just discuss the area where you first started to  inform us 
of where you were: agreed the professor. 
“I think the first thing area, on which we should start, is to get a  more 
detailled  account of Post-War Southampton.” 
“There’s not a lot more I can add to what you’ve already seen your- 
selves. When I first went there, I associated the place with death. It was a
76 

squalid place, to which I wouldn’t even send my worst enemy. The major-
ity of the high-rise,  concrete  flats were just seen  as  crumbled  remains. I 
didn’t go there, to the ruins after dark, it gave me the creeps. That particu-
lar place was haunted, there was  a great saddness of lost souls, wandering 
about with no place to  go.” 
“The city was desolate and barren. Nothing would grow there, only 
small plants... for example, mosses could grow. When I was first there, it
hadn’t occurred to me that the reason why no plants grew was, in fact, due
to the soil being contaminated with radioactive fallout. What was so nice
there was the sunsets and sunrises. Never have I seen anything as spectac-
ular, the  sky being  ablaze  with such a brilliant red, merging in with all the 
other  colours  of the spectrum. The reflections of the sky on the sea, slowly 
rippling and disappearing with  the  white froth of the waves breaking on 
the shore. That is  true  beauty. The  sea itself, during the  day, appeared  to be 
covered slightly by a thin mantle of  yellow-grey  fog. I don’t know why that 
is.” 
“The worst thing was the nights, they were so cold. I found it difficult 
to sleep  -  every morning I would wake up, my joints aching and my body 
stiff all over. During the day, the sun was almost permanently obscured by
the heavily overcast sky... 
Tomorrow, or  when we have some spare time, I shall give you a  more 
detailled  description of the main locations that I encountered and where 
they were situated.” 
“Right That may be quite useful, Robin,” replied Professor Fergere. 
He scribbled down his notes hurriedly, in his usual illegible manner. 
Robin yawned. He was hoping the professor would take his subtle 
hint and suggest that they stopped for now and continue tomorrow. To
Robin’s despair, the professor did no such thing. The grandmother clock
chimed eleven times, then carried on ticking loudly in its monotonous 
manner. Before, Robin had not noticed how loudly it ticked. His mind was
diverted to wishful thoughts of sleeping in his comfortable bed, to rest his 
weary head  on his pillow. This had a great appeal to him at that particular 
moment. The more he thought about it,  the  heavier his eyelids felt. Slowly 
but surely they started to close, the voices becoming more distant, until he
heard them no more... 
The next thing Robin remembered was being shaken lightly.
“Wake up Robin, it’s time you went to  bed," Alison whispered softly in 
his ear. 
“1 don’t want to wake up. Let me sleep here.”
Robin closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but it was no  use. 
Alison  continued to speak to him. 
77



concern  was to make sure I survived. All the time, I had to keep my wits 
about me. I had to watch that I wasn’t about to be ambushed by a gang of 
thugs or, even worse, get caught by the System. The tales I heard, of the 
more unfortunate, weaker people being tortured by the System... Anyone 
who had been captured  was never seen again.” 
Robin paused and  sat  pondering. He shuddered as a tingling sensa- 
tion ran up his spine. A tear trickled slowly down his cheek. He got a white 
hankerchief out of his pocket, wiped the tear away and blew his nose. It
was only now that he  realised, how lucky he actually was, to have been 
able to travel back to his real home. To think that, at one point, he had
seriously considered staying there for good. 
Alison returned and, putting her arm around her little boy, asked 
sympathetically, 
“What’s wrong, Robin? Are you not feeling very well?” 
“No, I’m all right,  truly I am. I was just thinking how lucky I am to be 
back here, among people who love and care for me.” 
“What did the professor have to say?” asked Matthew, trying to 
change  the subject quickly, as it was clear that it had upset Robin. 
“He’ll be down in about half an hour, he was in the middle of a lecture 
when I phoned. One of the other lecturers is off sick today, and he wasn’t 
too pleased about taking somebody else’s class this morning.” 
“I’m just going to go out and get some tobacco and cigarettes,” said 
Matthew. 
"I’11  be back soon. Does anyone want anything while I’m out?” 
He picked up his jacket and put it on, fumbling about in his pockets, 
trying to find his car keys. 
“What are you looking for?” asked Harry.
“Oh, drat! I can’t  remember where   I put my car  keys.” 
84

Robin through his eyes. People  travelling in time, this he had found mind 
boggling. One only read of this occurring in fiction books, never had he 
thought it could actually happen. 
“I don’t exactly know how that had happened. What I had initially 
hoped to do was just put myself in a   light trance to find out whether I was 
going to pass my examinations. I didn’t for one moment think I was ever 
going to end up  travelling forward in time. I was so scared when I  first  found 
myself there. I didn’t know where the hell I was. I thought I was having  a 
nightmare, but I never woke up. It was weird, knowing that my mind was
somewhere, apart from my body. Though my body was there, it wasn’t, if 
you see what I mean. I wasn’t sure where I had  travelled to,  or even 
whether I had, in fact,   travelled backwards or forwards in time.   My   main 

“What do you need your car keys for, surely you don’t intend driving 
to the comer shop. It’s only about five hundred   metres  away,"  commented 
Alison Matthew left the  room and slammed the front door shut behind 
him. 
“I wonder how the professor proposes we stop the nuclear war   hap- 
pening? I  think he has his hopes too  high,  it will be a miracle  if he  does pull 
it off. 1 can’t see anyone taking us seriously. We’ll be branded as a bunch of 
crack-pots, especially with an election coming up, people will say we 
should set ourselves up as part of the loony party.” 
“Yes  Harry,  I wonder how he is going to make the people aware that we 
are not a bunch of loonies out to get publicity, or  a group of people who are 
scare  mongers," replied Alison. Robin sat silently, thinking about the 
people he had left behind. He felt guilty because he knew that, sooner or 
later, the System would be more than suspicious about what was happen- 
ing to their food ships. It would be then that he would be needed to help
them, to combat  the warriors of the System. But as the professor had 
pointed out to him, if they were to stop the war from occurring then the
System would not have this sinister government over the people. He shut
that disturbing feeling of guilt out of his mind. 

“If it’s okay with you all, I should like very much for us to go to the 
cinema and see a film.   What do you recommend we see, I don’t even know 
what’s currently being shown at the  Odeon or  A.B.C.” 
“I agree. I  think it would be nice if we had a break and went to see A 
Room With A  View,"  replied Alison. She had already seen that particular 
film once and had enjoyed it thoroughly. 
“After we’ve  seen the film we can go to Burger King. That’s if you want, 
of course,” she added. It had been a long time since they had been out as a 
group and had any fun. 
“Thank you Alison. that will be very nice. We’ll wait for Matthew to 
return  and check  that it’s  okay with him. He may have already made al- 
ternative plans for this evening.” 

85


much  as possible about it while it was   all  relatively fresh in his mind. A lot 
of people  would have suffered a nervous   breakdown after having been sub- 
jected to the same, extreme ordeal that Robin had. 
“I’m all right,” said Robin, seeing the concern on the professor’s face,
“I would rather we got all this out of the way now, then   I can relax.” 
“Okay, that’s fine by   me,"  replied Professor   Fergere. 
“The elite, ahh yes, they had a lot of courage,” began Robin, 
"One had to salute their bravery and foresight.” 
“Foresight? What do you mean   foresight?" asked the professor, look- 
ing up. 
"Have  I missed something, or am I being plain stupid?” 
“Yes, foresight. Maybe I hadn’t told you before, but speaking to Jimmy, 
he told me that when it  was first announced, you know, the Russians 
blocking off the  Sraits  of  Hormuz, that a group of people  had made the best 
preparations possible for the likely event of a nuclear war.” 
“You mean to say it was these handful   of people  in Southampton, who 
didn’t listen to the media and the governments, and had started preparing 
for a war?” 
The professor sat back in his chair. 
“Well! Maybe not  all  of the public are   as stupid and mindless   as I had 
thought.” 
“Can I please continue now?” said Robin, 
“N OW , where was I? Oh, I remember, it was about the elite. There isn’t 
an awful lot more I can say about them. They were very   organised. They 
mainly stole food and other necessities from the System, taking these 
items when the System had unloaded the crates from the ship. They were 
just normal people who had faith in themselves and did not take the same 
attitude as the majority of people, those who did not think  that it was not 
worth surviving after a nuclear war. They had prepared themselves for it, 
they had taken the necessary precautions.” 

Some time later, the professor declared that he was satisfied and sug- 
gested that they move on to the  final topic. 
“Ah, now the system. As you know, the System was the ruling body 
there. It was strange that they had been set up there for almost three years 
and no changes had been made. No improvements   to the living conditions 
of the people had been implemented. It’s little wonder the people didn’t 
respect the System. No one can expect respect and co-operation if they 
don’t show respect for   others. All they did was   terrorise the people, ensur- 
ing that the masses would be kept weak and in no fit condition to cause
any form of uprising or revolution..." 
90 

Robin turned around to Alison and looked deeply into her eyes. 
Something was bothering her... What? He could not quite put his finger on 
it. 
“Professor, do you mind   if we take a short break? It’s half past five and 
we’ve been sitting here for approximately three and a half  hours.” 
The professor acknowledged Robin’s request, nodding his head, 
staring longingly at his empty glass and plate. 
"Alison,  will you   come and help me make some tea and get something 
for the  others  to eat? They must be starving as we didn’t eat anything at 
lunchtime.” 
Alison  and Robin left the lounge, leaving Matthew and Harry engaged 
in trivial conversation with Professor Fergere. 
Once they had reached the kitchen and Robin had switched on  the 
kettle the boy turned around and made Alison sit down. 
"Now, what’s wrong   Ali?  Is it this morning’s episode with Harry that’s 
upsetting you so much? Come on, you know you can speak to  me." 
“No, it has nothing to do with that. On the contrary, I’m relieved that 
that has been cleared up.” 
“Well, what is it then?”
"It was talking about the System  that upset me. It reminded me of that 
bloodbath, in   particular  the barbaric way which one of the guards chose to 
kill that woman and her unborn child. I know  I’m  being stupid, getting so 
emotional over something that hasn’t even happened yet, but...” 
“Alison, you shouldn’t be ashamed of being upset.  Y OU  would have   to 
be a very cold, inhumane person, not to have been affected by that spec- 
tacle, If I had had anything solid in my stomach at the time, then  I would 
have vomited at the sight. God, how I wish I hadn’t found that way for   you 
to witness what I was doing there. Sorry Alison, please don’t   worry.  Hope- 
fully we’ll be able to prevent that ever happening.” 
Robin went over to Alison and hugged her tightly, holding her close, 
making her feel more secure. 
“I’m all right, Robin. Come on, the water has   boiled, we  had better get 
on and make the tea. The sooner we finish, the better. We’ll be able to go 
and see that film if we get a move on.” 
Robin looked into her eyes, viewing each one carefully. 
“Are you   sure  you are okay. I’m here  to listen if you need me. I’m your 
friend who cares an awful lot about your happiness and well-being. Just
trust in me, everything will work out for the best” 
Alison nodded, She felt an extraordinary sensation, the tears that 
brimmed unbidden in Robin’s eyes cut her deeply. 
“Robin... you’ve changed a lot Since you’ve returned from that   place. 
91

94 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

PERSECUTION 

T HE  PROFESSOR   DROVE   BACK   TO  HIS   HOUSE   AFTER   HAVING  STOPPED   OFF   AT  A  PUBLIC 

house where he had several double Scotches. The depression he had been 
feeling earlier had set deep within his mind. 
That morning he had not been detained at the university to cover for 
another lecturer  -  that had been a false alibi. 
What he had been doing that morning was very different. 
He had spent several hours on the telephone, trying desperately to 
speak to the British Prime Minister. He had had no luck  -  all his efforts 
were to no avail. The only person, to whom he was eventually permitted to 
speak, was the Prime Minister’s Personal Secretary. Even this only
resulted in his being informed that  the Prime Minister was “engaged in a 
meeting*. 
He had tried his utmost to make the Personal Secretary understand 
that what he was telling him, about a  war occurring in under a year from 
now, was   true and that he was being deadly serious about   the whole mat- 
ter. He had been treated like some crack-pot trying desperately to get
attention. The more the professor thought about the way he had been
humiliated on the telephone that morning, the more depressed he
became. 
“If one’s own Government won’t take one seriously, then there is no 
hope of being able to prevent this holocaust from  occurring," thought the 
professor, 
“There is no way on God’s given earth that anyone will take me 
seriously. What is to be done? I can’t actually stop the nuclear weapons 
from exploding!” 
He was not far from  his home now, just a street  away. 
95

managed  to get a fair amount of the  marmalade  around his  mouth,   leaving 
a sticky mesa on his chin. 
He  noticed that Matthew had opened his window. Robin thought   this 
was strange- Matthew   never usually did that because he knew bow   much 
Robin objected to cold draughts. The boy climbed   out of bed   and went   to 
the window to close it. It was  then that he noticed the lawn. 
“God,  it’s been mowed. No, it couldn’t have been Matthew   who  did it, If 
he did, there must be something seriously wrong with him... and breakfast 
in bed, too!” 
Robin left his bedroom and shouted to Matthew from the top of  the 
stairs. 
“Matthew!  What happened to the lawn? Did you  happen to be sleep 
walking  last night, having a terrible nightmare, in which you saw yourself 
doing some horrendous  job... like mowing the lawn?” 
Matthew came rushing up, dropping his  lighter on the stairs, 
“What do  YOU mean, I must have been sleep-walking last night.  I’m 
always willing to help.” 
“Matthew, don’t &getting out of it. Admit it, you like nothing better 
than to do nothing. Laziness is your trademark. Who was it, the last  time 
the  lawn  needed mowing, who said he was suddenly feeling ill? Come on, 
face  it -  you hate  working." 
"No need to  rub it in. I didn’t sleep-walk, I woke up early and decided 
to mow the lawn. Get dressed and then we can leave.” 
Matthew left Robin and went back to the kitchen to finish eating his 
cheese on toast. 
“Huh!  The cheek of it. Fancy calling me lazy,” thought Matthew to 
himself. 
BY the time Matthew and Robin had arrived at the University, Alison 
and Harry were sitting in Professor  Fergere’s  office. 
“You’re two minutes late. Makes a change doesn’t it? It’s usually   us 
who are late. Don’t  worry,  the professor hasn’t come in yet. It  must be 
National Be Late  Day for the more punctual members of society,”  com- 
mented  Harry, briefly bringing his bead out of his book. 
Matthew  and Robin found some chairs and drew them closer to 
Alison and  Harry.  They engaged in trivial conversation, laughing about 
their night out and how good the film was. It was not until they started to 
joke, about the way in which they had managed to persuade the professor 
to allow   them the rest of the evening off, that they noticed the time, It was 
now  half past ten and still they had no word from the  professor. 

98 
“It’s probably nothing. Maybe he’s been detained by some   roadworks 

between here and Winchester. He’ll be here soon: said Alison whilst
drinking a cup of hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was the most
bearable of all the drinks available from   the drinks machine in the 
hallway. 
“Guess what Matthew did this  morning." 
“Come on Robin, shock  us,"  replied Harry. 
"Wait  for it, roll the drums... He mowed the  lawn.” 
"You  mean...? He didn’t, did he? Gasp, shock-horror! What’s  wrong 
with you, Matthew? Wasn’t  that going against your grain somewhat?   Sorry   
Matthew, that’s being cruel.” 
Harry stopped talking and burst out into laughter, the others follow- 
ing his example. Matthew just sat there, his arms folded tightly. 
"I  don’t care if you take  the  michaelmas  out of me. Just pretend I’m 
not  here. Canyon, I'll  sit here, and when you’ve decided   that  you’ve   finally 
recovered, then we can see about finding out why the professor has not
turned up. It's quarter past eleven and he would   have got in contact with us   
by now." 
At that, everyone stopped their fits of hysterical laughter and sat up 
straight Harry left the room and went to the Departmental  Manager's 
office. 
“Professor  Lion  hasn’t heard from Professor   Fergere this morning. He 
knows  nothing of the professor having to go anywhere else this   morning," 
said Harry to the students when he  returned. 
“I  think we had better go to his house and see if he’s all right. Robin, 
you’ve  been to his house before, do you still remember where it is?” said 
Alison, turning to face Robin. 
"Yes,   I  should  have the address written down on a piece of a   paper   in 
my jacket pocket.” 
He rustled through the rubbish in his pockets and  finally produced a 
rather crumpled up piece of paper. 
“Here it is, we better  go  now." 

About an hour later they pulled into the drive of Professor  Fergere’s 
residence. His car was still parked there and the curtains   were closed. The 
milk bottles hadn’t been taken in. 
“That’s strange, it doesn’t look as though he’s woken  up yet,"  com- 
mented  Matthew, peeping through the  letterbox. 
“The place is in total darkness and I can see some letters in the hall- 
way. Can you hear his dog whining?” 
“Try opening the door, Matthew.” 99









commences. It then follows with another index, that shows the exact page 
and line a sub-topic begins. Then, finally  

-  the icing on the cake  -  there’s a 
third index which has the more interesting notes with a page reference 
and a line number. Look, on each page he has numbered every line. God, 
these notes are so beautifully laid out, it’s going to be so easy to find  our 
way around them.” 
‘Yes... And look, it’s not in short-hand  or German. That’s a help as 
well,” commented  Harry,  quickly flicking through the pages. 
I They all looked through the layout of the index and notes with 
awe.
After the students had got  over their admiration for the professor’s 
method of keeping notes, they started reading. Silence reigned. All that 
could be heard was the the ticking of the clock and the occasional chimes. 

Simpson had nodded off. Several times he whined in his sleep, at 
which point Robin caressed  the dog and whispered some words of  re- 
assurance  to him. 
“It’s going to he okay, Simpson. We’ll take care of you. Joseph hasn’t 
really left us. He is watching over us now.  He’s all around us.” 

The scribbling   of  pens moving across the page seemed much louder 
than usual. 
The clock had not long chimed two o’clock when the absence of men- 
tion was finally broken. It  was Matthew who  was  the first to speak. 
“If we find something that is important, are we just going to make a 
note of it and, when we’ve all finished going through the files completely,
then discuss what we found? Or are we going to discuss the main points as 
we go along?” 
“Oh, I hadn’t considered that.  I thought we were just going to take 
notes for now and then discuss them when we had finished. What do you 
think, Robin?” 
“Well, Alison, I think that we should discuss anything that we feel is 
important, as   soon  as we find it. That way we won’t be in danger of wasting 
time by wading through masses of information which may have no bearing 
on our main objective.” 
“Yes, Robin is right.”
“Okay, Harry. Seeing as the feeling is unanimous, I’ll read out what I’ve 
found. 
“The heading is ‘Nostradamus’. According to this, there appears to be 
several starting dates, from which one calculates the approximate time 
118 

that these prophecies are to happen. They are  as follows: 

a) In Nostradamus’s Epistle to Henry II, he states that the starting date 
is the fourteenth of March fifteen  fifty-seven. 
h) But to confuse things more, Nostradamus also says that the start- 
ing date is from Creation day, which is four thousand and four B.C. 
according to Archbishop Usher in sixteen fifty. 
c) A person called Wollner said that he thought the starting date  was 
four hundred and eighteen B.C. 
d) This is the last starting date. Apparently it’s widely accepted that 
the  beginning  date was that of the Council of  Nicaea in three hundred and 
twenty five A.D. 
Here he has listed verses   -  some sort of riddle -below which the pro- 
fessor has written his own conclusion as to what he thinks they apply. I’ll 
read all  the verses first, then tell you what he has written.” 
Matthew took in a deep breath before reading the rhymes aloud. 
The scourges past the world gets smaller, 
Peace for a time lands inhabited:
People will travel by air, land and sea: 
Then wars will come again.
Weapons will fight in the sky for a long period,
The tree in the middle of the city will fall: 
Rats, disease, steel in the face of revolution, 
when Italy falls. 
At night the rainbow will appear  near Nantes, 
Fountains of water will rise from the sea; 
A great fleet will be sunk in the Persian Gulf, 
In Germany a monster, a bear and a  sow. 

They’ll think they’ve  seen the sun at night 
When they see the half-hog man: 
Noise, screaming, battles  are seen in the sky, 
And brute beasts will be heard talking. 
So a great famine caused by a pestilence,
By long rain of the Arctic Pole: 
Sam R.  O’Bryan  a hundred leagues from the earth, 
Shall live without law, exempt from politics. 
119



marker in between the pages so that he wouldn’t lose his place. It  was now 
nine o’clock and the Civic   Centre  clock could be heard chiming nine 
times. Robin went upstairs and brought down his easel, sketch pad and
drawing pencils. 
“It worked last night  -  I did feel a lot more relaxed after having drawn 
that face,” thought Robin to himself. 
Within about half  an hour he had produced another masterpiece. It 
was a sad picture, depicting a post-holocaust city, with score of people
lying dead in the half-demolished streets. 
Robin showed the others his drawing.
“Look! What  do you think of this? Now do  you believe that  I drew the 
 other picture last night?    I was alone in the same room as myself, so there's 
no excuse  -  you have to believe  me." 
“It’s a bit morbid, isn’t it?” observed  Harry, 
“What possessed you to draw that for heaven’s sake? It doesn’t look 
much like Southampton, not as we knew it. I wonder where it’s meant to 
be...” 
“To tell you the truth, Harry, I don’t know why I drew that. I just felt 
like drawing. I didn’t think I would end up producing something like that.” 
“I know where that’s meant to be... it’s New York, I’m sure of it! I went 
there a few months before I came here.” 
“Are you sure, Matthew?”
“Of course I’m sure, Robin. I wouldn’t have said so otherwise, you 
should know me better than that. I never say anything if I’m not ninety- 
nine percent sure of being right.” 
“No, I suppose not Anyway, it’s half past nine approximately, and I’m 
starving Can we eat before continuing? We haven’t had any lunch.” 
“Yes, I’m  also very hungry. I was wondering when we would  have a 
break,” replied  Harry, They all got up and went into the kitchen, Simpson 
following close on Robin’s heels. 
“Where’s  the mincemeat gone?” said Matthew, turning from the 
almostempty  fridge, 
it?” 
“I bought some mincemeat yesterday... what the hell’s  happened  to 
“Mincemeat?”
“Yes, Robin  -  mincemeat. Didn’t you hear me properly or are you 
becoming a parrot in your spare time?” 
“You don’t have to get personal. I won’t tell you what’s happened to 
the mincemeat   otherwise." 
“Robin, I’m rapidly losing my patience. If this is meant to be some sort 
126 

of practical joke, then I don’t find it very funny. I’m starving! Now, stop fool-
ing around and give it back here.” 
“Matthew, I hate to tell you this, but I can’t give it back to  you.” 
“What do you mean, can’t give it back to me?”
“Exactly what I said. I can’t give it back to you. You see, it’s already 
been eaten.” 
“Who has eaten it?”
“Well, you see... Simpson was hungry, and he hadn’t eaten anything 
today. There was nothing else that I could give him.” 
‘You mean that we  are going to have to starve because that dumb dog 
ate our mincemeat?” 
“He’s not a dumb dog. Anyway, I think you’re being very selfish, think- 
ing of your  own stomach all the time. There’s cheese and  eggs in the fridge.” 
“I’m sick and tired of eating  eggs..." 
“Come on, you two,” interrupted Harry,
“Enough said about the mincemeat, there’s no use  arguing over some- 
thing that’s already happened. Look, Alison and I will treat us all to either a
meal at Pizza Hut or Burger King. Now, make up your minds which it is to
be. Don’t sulk, shake hands. No harm done” 
Matthew and Robin shook hands and  apologised  to each other. 
“I think that we should go to Burger King because we haven’t got 
enough time to spare, waiting at least twenty minutes for our food to be
served at Pizza Hut. What do you think, Matthew? It was your mincemeat
that I had fed to Simpson.” 
Matthew agreed to Robin’s choice of eating arrangements. 
Harry drove them to Burger King.
About half an hour later, they rolled out of Burger King, their 
stomachs feeling rather uncomfortable. 
“I’ve eaten miles too much. I’ve got a sickly feeling in my stomach, the 
slightest uncoordinated movement hurts. All I want to do now is lie down
and not have to move.= 
“I agree with you, Alison. My stomach feels as though it has grown 
several  metres  in girth. It’s as though I’ve got a football being chucked 
about inside there, or maybe the whole team’s having a knock about.” 
There were only  groans  to be heard from the occupants of the car as 
Matthew drove them back to the house. Clutching onto their stomachs, 
they  staggered  out of the Car, up the concrete path and sprawled them 
selves into the nearest available armchair. 
“I know we’re not feeling quite at  our  best, but I do think that we 
should continue with our  reading," said Robin, 
127

CHAPTER TEN 

FEARS 

“All this time, and we hadn’t thought of it.”
“Robin, what haven’t we thought of?” 
“Don’t you see, Matthew? It’s the note that the professor had entered 

after the rhymes written by Nostradamus. Nostradamus claims that the 
Third World War starts in August nineteen eighty-seven, but we know that
the bombs are actually dropped in April nineteen eighty-nine.” 
“What he obviously meant, was that the verbal war started in August. 
If we were to stop the events that lead to the beginning of the verbal war,
then we won’t have the problem of stopping the nuclear war.” 
“That’s fine, you saying that we should stop the events that cause the 
war, but we don’t really know what the events are until April the fifth, nine- 
teen eighty-nine, and by then it’s too late.” 
“Matthew, think of it. The Russians block the Straits of   Hormuz.  To do 
that, the Iranians must have given the Russians   authorisation  to mobilise 
their armies within Iran. All   we have to do is make sure that   the   authorisa- 
tion is never given. Understand now?” 
“Not bad, Robin. Not bad at all. You may just have something there. 
Now, is there anything else that we could do, or anything that we may have
overlooked?” asked Harry, resting his chin on his hands, pondering. 
Robin’s new perspective on the matter had suddenly opened up a   var- 
iety of possible solutions to the problem. His imagination was running 
wild. 
“Yes, Harry Something does come to mind. It was something you 
said... In one of the files that you were going through, there were records of 
the other students that the professor had been working with before us. 
131
/ 

Can  you please digit out? I don’t know why, hut I’m   sure  that there’s some. 
thing that we’ve overlooked in that lot.” 
"Okay,  Robin  -  whatever you  say.  But personally, I can’t see any 
reason why you should want to have a look through them." 
While Harry was searching   out the information, Matthew and   Alison 
disappeared into the kitchen to start preparing lunch. 
For once, lunch did not merely scrape into the bracket of ‘eating 
while it was still light outside’  -  on  this occasion it was the more con- 
ventional time of half past one. Matthew was pleased that they were not 
having bacon and   eggs again, but instead were going   to eat a meal which 
could be classed as ‘proper’ food. The smell of the lamb chops being 
grilled whet his appetite.   Alison  was busy preparing the salad, watching 
over the potato waffles. 

Robin took the comprehensive records that the professor had made 
on his past students. He skimmed through the notes, carefully checking
for any exceptional capabilities that any of the students  may have pos- 
sessed. He had looked at eight different profiles and had not come across
anything that had caught his attention   -none  of them appeared to have 
any special talents. 
Finally, he  came to one that could have bee” a possibility.  Martin 
Gaugh,  he was twenty years old at the time he worked with the professor  - 
approximately four years ago. He had shown great promise, having the 
ability to bend metal by stroking it very lightly. However, that was one of
Matthew’s specialities, and when Matthew did it, he didn’t need to touch 
the metal. 
No, Robin was looking for   someone who had psychic powers compar- 
able to his own. For what he had in mind, he needed  someone with 
amazing abilities... 
His concentration was interrupted by Aliso” calling from the kitchen. 
“Robin, lunch is ready. Come on, it’s on the table. Don’t let it 
get cold.” 
The smell of the food wafted into the lounge. It smelt very tempting. 
Robin’s stomach talked him into leaving what he was   doing and  following 
the scent to its source. 

“Robin, have   you  found anything of interest? What were his past   stu- 
dents like,   any  of them as good as us? Actually, that’s a stupid question   - 
no one could be as good as you.” 
“Thank you for your compliment, Alison. No, as yet there is nothing 
that could help  us in  any  way?" 
132 

It was not long before they had finished eating and Robin was  back 
looking through the records of the professor’s past students. Simpson 
came into the lounge and sat beside Robin on the floor. He peered over the
boy’s shoulder, desperately trying to gain his attention. 
"Ahh,  I’ve been neglecting you again,” said Robin, stroking Simpson 
absently. 
Suddenly, he jumped and shouted  out loud to the others - 
“I found it! I found it!” 
They came rushing into the lounge from the kitchen. 
“What’s all the shouting about?”
"Alison,  it’s here. This is what I’ve been trying to find.” 
"There's no use just flashing a thick wadge of paper at us.  We can't read 
it from here,” said Matthew, impatiently. 
“Who is it that you’ve found? Does he or she have a name?” 
“Give me a chance to speak, Harry. With the way you’ve all bee” 
throwing questions at me, I haven’t had a chance to get a word in.” 
Robin consulted the papers. 
“Her  name  is Helen Parker. She must be about thirteen years old   now. 
She worked with the professor about five years ago, but only stayed here 
for one year." 
“The professor sent her back to her parents in New York, but they still 
kept in touch by sending each other letters. There’s stacks of the things 
here. According to the last letter, it seems that she was the youngest per- 
son ever to get into one of the best Art Institutes in the United  States." 
Robin looked back to his papers for a moment.
“Listen to this. It seems that she gained her powers from having an 
electric shock when she was a lot younger, roughly at the age of four. Her 
parents claimed that, since that electric shock, she was able  to draw per- 
fect, detailed sketches, of places that she had never been  to. Professor 
Fergere concluded that, perhaps when she had suffered the electric 
shock, it was the equivalent of blowing a fuse. This in turn, made
her totally susceptible to the forces of the earth. This so-called ‘fuse
blowing’  would  either have made her totally non-psychic,  or possibly 
have given her a great amount of psychic power, more than we could ever 
imagine!” 
The others listened to Robin, engrossed. 
“That was only the Start. The rest, if you’ll pardon the expression, is 
mind-blowing!” 
Robin flicked through a couple more pages.
“If circumstances hadn’t forced the professor to send Helen back, 
the” there is no telling what she would have been able  to do by now. 
133
Although, it seems from the letters that she wrote to to the professor, that
they continued to experiment...” 
He paused for a moment, thinking.
“I wonder whether she knows that the professor has   committed 
suicide." 
His eyes suddenly lit up and he started trembling from his excite- 
ment. He stared wildly around the room. It was clear that he was not
looking at any set object, but imagining something 
“Robin. Robin! You’re cutting us off. Remember, we’re meant to be 
working as a team now. What’s going on in your mind?” 
“Yes Robin, Harry is right. You’ve put up a barrier, preventing us from 
knowing what you’re thinking about. Now,  none  of us do that to you. We’re 
always totally honest  with you.” 
Robin turned around to face Matthew. His eyes showed great anger, a 
fire could be seen to bum within them. He clenched his fists tightly and his
voice  tremoured  from the anger as he retaliated to Harry’s and Matthew’s 
accusations. 
“I’ve done no such thing! It’s your  own fault if you can’t always read 
what’s on my mind. You’re both so wrapped up in competing against each
other, trying to win Alison’s  favour, that you allow your emotions to take 
precedence over your work. How can  you expect to concentrate your 
mind on  anything?" 
Harry was just about to interrupt but Robin cut him short.
“Shut up, Harry! Listen for once, concentrate your weak mind on 
what  I’m trying to explain and not on what you want to say.” 
Robin quickly glanced to see what Matthew’s reaction had been to his 
outburst  but, as always, Matthew was  not showing his  feelings. His face was 
totally expressionless. 
"Now, all I want from you all is   total commitment and loyalty, until  this 
project has been completed. Then, you can rest your efforts and do what-
ever you want in your private  lives." 
Robin looked round at  them  all, then continued more quietly. 
"I'm sorry about  my outburst. But you must  try and understand the situ- 
ation we’re   in  I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that, but I’ve been under  a 
lot of pressure  lately. So please, if you want to be a part of this and help, then 
bear with me and don’t put any extra, unnecessary pressure on me.” 
Again, Robin paused. 
“So, Matthew and  Harry. No hard feelings, is all forgiven?” 
Robin went silent. It was Matthew’s expressionless face that had 
been responsible for his sudden change of manner. 
134 

Matthew was a lot stronger than  Harry  and, if he had been pushed 
too far, would have left and allowed Robin to do what he wanted.  Harry, 
being quite a weak character and easily influenced by Matthew’s actions, 
might well have followed suit 
Although Robin’s psychic powers were more than all the others’ 
combined, he would need them for what he had planned. Also, he had 
been put in their care. The last thing he wanted was for them to abandon
him. The professor had warned him in his letter to be patient with them. 
“Okay Robin, I forgive you. But don’t think that I’ll stand for your 
tantrums  again. You’re not the  only one who is under pressure. Remem- 
ber, from your trip into the future, it seems that we get killed. So you
must see that this ‘project’, as you put it, is very important  to us. Our 
lives depend on its  success." 
“Sony Matthew, but thank you for understanding this time. I pro- 
mise that I’ll try not to lose my temper  again." 
By now the fire  in Robin’s eyes had died down completely. There 
was only peace in them. 
“What were thinking about before. Robin?” asked Alison, trying to 
change the subject. All this time she had remained quiet, keeping out of
their argument A long time ago, she had  sworn  to the  professor  that, what- 
ever happened, she would take care of Robin and never abandon him. 
“I’m not sure how we are actually going to prevent  the  events that 
will be responsible for the war,” said Robin, thoughtfully, 
‘But a gut feeling tells me that, whatever it is that we eventually 
decide to do,  we'll need someone else who possesses the  same  sort of 
capabilities as ourselves.” 
“So what do you want to do regarding Helen  -  that was the name of 
that girl, wasn’t it?” asked Alison, 
“It’ll make a change, not being the only girl in the  group." 
“Yes, her name is Helen, Helen Parker...”
Robin suddenly turned to Alison. 
“God! It’s only just occurred to me. Wait,  I’ll  show you! Look at this 
photograph in the file. That was taken when she was eight years old. 
Now, see  the  drawing I made? Don’t you see? That’s her!” 
“Robin, I hate to shatter your illusions, but I bet you anything that it 
wasn’t you who drew that. It  was Helen.” 
“What do  you mean, Harry?” 
“It was your hand that drew that, but it was in accordance with 
Helen’s guidance. It was her mind that compelled you to draw it.” 
“If you’re  right about that, then it wasn’t me who drew that post  hol- 
ocaust  scene, but Helen. She must have been drawing the picture at the 
135
same time as myself. And Matthew was right, if it was Helen, then, as 
she lives in New York, the picture that I drew was actually set in New 
York.” 
“To think that your hands had been an instrument of communica- 
tion,= said Alison, dazed by the sudden understanding, 
“She had probably sent out some sort of S.O.S. hoping that someone 
would pick it up.” 
Alison was very sensitive, and considering the early part of her 
childhood, it was not surprising  that  she was upset by seeing people, 
especially  those  that she loved, arguing. 
Suddenly, she felt threatened by Helen. Alison knew that Robin was 
not one to exaggerate. He was excited at finding the file on Helen and
was convinced that she had just as much  power  as himself. If that was 
the case, then it would be  very hard to control her. Helen could use them 
to do whatever she wanted  -  she had managed it with Robin, so what 
could stop her from doing it to the rest of them? 
“Alison! Alison!” 
She was not aware of any of  the  others trying to gain her attention. 
Matthew waved his hand in front of her face -she did not blink. She just
continued to look straight ahead, as though there was nothing in her 
view. 
"Harry,  help me sit her down! I don’t want her to fall over.” 
Moving Alison, jolting her slightly, finally brought her back to the 
real world. 
“Alison, what was it?” 
“Oh... nothing.” 
Still in a slight daze, she turned around to face Matthew. Her face 
appeared to be startled at his question. For a brief moment she did not
take his concern to be as innocent as he had intended it to be. Still she
was feeling threatened. 
"Sorry  I asked! I was only concerned. I didn’t think that me showing an 
interest in how you were feeling would cause  offence. There  was  no need 
to snap back at me. God, it must be contagious. First Robin, and now you.” 
He turned to Harry and continued, sarcastically,
“I think that we should remain silent. Whenever we speak, we end 
up getting our heads bitten  off." 
“Sorry Matthew!” said Alison,
“I didn’t mean it to seem as though I was snapping at  you.” 
“As long as you’re okay, then that’s all  that  matters. Are you sure 
that  you’re okay? Tell the truth” 
136 

“All right... if you’re sure you want to know...” 
Matthew nodded his head.
“It’s silly, but I was thinking that, if Helen was able to control Robin 
- i.e. making him draw those pictures  -  then, what’s to stop her from 
doing the same to us. Or something  worse." 
She shook her head,
“See? I told you it was stupid!” 
“No,  Alison," said  Harry, 
“It wasn’t silly. Of course there is always a threat, hut that’s a chance 
we’ll have to take” 
"Harry, I can’t see that she would actually use her mind to try and 
control us,” said Robin, 
“Remember, she must have had the same sort of visions  as myself 
to have drawn that picture. I think that she was frightened, looking
for  someone  to help her. I  very much doubt we’re taking a chance at 
all.” 
“I agree with Robin,” added Matthew. He turned to Robin.
“How do you propose getting in contact with Helen?” 
“Well Matthew, what do you think of me racking up the telephone 
bill? I promise you that it won’t be a  common  occurrence. It’s only so 
that  I can introduce myself to her. Then after that we can communicate 
with each other using telepathy. Don’t worry, try trusting  me.” 
“Well... how long are you thinking of speaking to her on this initial 
phone call, Robin?” 
“Don’t  worry, Matthew. I think that, somehow, she knows who I am. 
Really, it’s a sort of confirmation phone call, telling her that I picked up
her messages.” 
Robin flicked through the file and the letters, looking for the tele- 
phone number. He remembered seeing it somewhere, but he had
skipped through so many pieces of paper that he could not quite  recol- 
lect  where he had seen it. 
‘There! Found it.” said Robin, waving the piece of paper around in 
front of the other students. 
“What are you going to say to her?” asked Alison,
“What if she doesn’t know anything about you  -  she may not have 
realised  that anyone was going to pick up those pictures whilst she was 
drawing them. Remember, she’s  an art student They may have been part 
of her course work. She may not  realise  why she had drawn the post hol- 
ocaust picture of New York.” 
“That’s a chance that  I’ll  have to take. But, whatever, I just want her 
to know about me. After that, I’ll tell her what we’re up to,  telepathi- 
137
ically...  God, we’ll have to break the news to her about the professor’s 
death I wonder how she’ll take it. She couldn’t have been too emo-
tionally attached to him  -  she still has her parents.” 
“What’s the time difference between here and New York, Matthew?”
‘Approximately five hours.”
“Well, it’s not going to be a good time for Robin to try phoning her 
up now,” remarked  Alison, 
“It’s twelve o’clock there, she’s probably eating. I’d wait about two 
hours.” 
“I hadn’t even thought about there being a time difference.”
“Well, Robin. It only just occurred to me that, when you were 
drawing her portrait, it must have been about twelve o’clock midnight
there, and   the latest one must have been done sometime during the 
morning.” 
“Well, whatever, it was something for which I hadn’t accounted. But 
I’ll take your advice and not telephone her for a couple of hours. I’ll just 
go and feed Simpson and put him  out  in the  garden.” 
As soon as Matthew had checked that Robin was in the kitchen 
attending to his pet, he spoke seriously to the others in a low tone of
voice, listening carefully for Robin’s return. 
“He’s got something in mind, hut he’s not saying. Somehow we’re 
going to have to get him to tell us! God, he’s pot up a good act, but he
does know how he thinks the holocaust should be prevented! I’m sure 
of it!” 
“Matthew, you can’t be completely sure. He knows he will have to 
tell  us sooner  or later, there’s no way he would be able to do  anything 
like this on his own!” 
“Haven’t you noticed a change in his attitude, Many? Ever since he 
came up with that idea earlier on, he’s been much more calm and col-
lected about the whole affair. Think  -  you’ve seen how much power over 
his mind he has, he doesn’t have to consult us over anything! If Helen
has got as much power as he makes out, and if he’s able to persuade her 
that what he wants to do is for the best... Well, we can’t be certain and we
must keep a careful eye on him.” 
“He’s only young, Matthew. He still needs us for advice. Now relax, 
give him time. He’s like yourself in some ways  -  you never like to com- 
ment on any ideas you have, unless you’re sure that they’re going to be
right. He’s just being careful. Like everyone, he doesn’t want to end  up 
with  egg on his face. The success of this project is the most important 
thing in his life. He’s working flat  out for the  Professor." 
1.38 

“Alison, he can’t he trusted. He doesn’t mind how he goes about get- 
ting his own way, as long as he succeeds. He killed your father and his
own parents at a drop of a hat He needs to be kept under tight control.
He believes that the end does justify the means... Enough said, he’s  com- 
ing back now!” 
139
CHAPTER ELEVEN 

DECISIONS 

IT WAS  NOT  TOO   BAD  A  DAY,  AND  THE  BBC  HAD,  FOR  ONCE,  MANAGED  TO GET  THE 
weather forecast right. Until about nine o’clock that morning, it had rained
very  heavily. After that downpour, the sky had cleared up and the sun 
shone brightly. The  warmth  from its rays spreading evenly, like a blanket, 
 covering over the whole of the city. 
The young group made the mistake of going shopping in the City 
Centre.  They had thought that, being a Wednesday, most of the people 
would be working. But  no--  the whole of the precinct was buzzing with life. 
A sea of unfriendly faces, pushing and jostling each other. 
It had been a disastrous outing. Harry and Robin could not stop 
arguing, and this had the effect of involving   Alison, who felt   some 
maternal need to protect Robin. Matthew had been wise and had kept 
silent. 
All the way back to  their  house, not one word  was uttered. Beads of 
sweat dripped from Harry’s brow. His arms were folded tightly. 
“Stop sulking,  Harry. Only children get stroppy like that.” 
“I’m not sulking, Alison. Anyway, it’s between Robin and myself, not 
you!” 
“Okay. Please yourself. This childish  behaviour  you’re currently dis- 
playing is only hurting yourself, no one else.” 
Robin stopped off at a newsagents and bought an ice cream for every- 
one except Harry.  Harry  turned his nose up, pretending that he did not 
really care about ice cream. In truth, he was just as hot as everyone else,
but could not bring himself to swallow his pride and  apologise  for his 
foolish behaviour. His arms dropped  from being crossed, and he stuck his
141
thumbs into his pockets. For the remainder of the walk home, he dragged
his feet sluggishly. 

Robin felt pity for his behaviour. Harry was not gaining sympathy - 
on the contrary, he  was making a complete fool of himself. Professor 
Fergere had instructed him that he was to keep the group together. That 
was, of course, until he was strong enough to look after himself... 
"Harry,  I’m sorry, it was my fault. It’s the weather  -  it’s so hot that I 
must be getting irritable. Shall we call a truce?” 
Robin offered his hand to Harry who, after pausing, took the hand and 
shook it. 
“I forgive you, but no hard feelings, okay?” 
Robin  conceeding had made Harry feel bad. It was now that he 
realised how childish he had been, that really it had been Robin who had 
won the situation. 
It was now two o’clock, and they were all   starving. 
“Isn’t it today... that Helen should have returned   from  Paris? That was 
what her parents told you, wasn’t it Robin?” 
“Thanks for reminding me, Harry. I had completely forgotten about 
that. In fact, I think it was yesterday  that I was meant to phone her. I'll  just 
go and attend to Simpson,  then I’ll phone her.” 
‘It’s okay, I’ll feed him. You go and phone Helen.” 

“Is that Helen?” 
“No, I’m her father. Wbo are you?”
‘I’m Robin.” 
“Oh, the Brit.  I'll  go call her.” 
Helen’s father placed the handset down onto the table and his boom- 
ing voice could be heard by Robin. 
“Helen, that boy I told you about is on the  phone." 

“Hi, it’s Helen here. You’re Robin, right? My Dad said you tried phon- 
ing a few days  ago." 
“Yes, I’m Robin.” 
“Why are you calling, and where did you get my name from?”
“Does the name ‘Joseph Fergere’ mean anything to you?”
Suddenly, her  defences shot up. 
“What do you know about Joseph?” 
No one except for her parents and Professor Fergere knew where she 
was. 
“Professor Fergere looked after me, like he did with you,” said Robin, 
142 

‘We have a lot in common. I can explain the matter a lot better to you, 
not with words over the  telephone, but with thoughts. Do you understand? 
Don’t blank your thoughts off when I put the receiver down. I need your
help. If not for me   then for Joseph.- 
“What do you mean ‘for Joseph’? Does he need me? What do you 
want from me?” 
“Look, Helen,   calm yourself down. I’ll explain to you soon. Now, when 
you’ve put the handset back down, go to your bedroom and lie down.
Relax yourself, you’ll hear from me then. Goodbye for  now." 
“Okay, but..” 
By now quite distraught, Helen did not have time to finish her sent- 
ence. Already, Robin had replaced the handset. 
Helen sat on the stairs, bemused by  the mysterious phone call. Her 
chin held in her pale, delicate hands-contemplating the whole affair, she 
could not understand what this boy wanted from her. Professor Fergere...
not once, in any of his numerous letters to her, did he mention Robin. But 
as she thought back to all the letters she had received, the professor had 
mentioned that he was quite excited about a young boy who was under his 
supervision. He never had named the boy in question... 
This still did not explain why Professor Fergere had not contacted 
her. Instead, she had received a totally unexpected telephone call from a
complete stranger. 
Also -  it worried her  -  the fact that, what she had understood as 
being behind her, had suddenly caught up with her. 
After the circumstances that resulted in her having to leave Great 
Britain, she had thought that she would never again be called upon to use 
her psychic powers. 
Suddenly she felt awful. She could not pinpoint the cause of this over- 
whelming sadness, but she could feel the unhappiness rushing up through 
her, a terrible wave of despondency surging  over her body. 
Slowly, she stood and trudged up the staircase, holding the bannister 
tightly to keep herself from falling. The shock of hearing someone, totally 
unknown to herself, uttering her beloved friend’s name, took a lot out of
her. She began to feel weak and nauseous. 
Though she did not know it, this initial contact of minds between 
Robin and herself was going to be the start of a union which, in the not too 
far distant future, would change their destined fate and also that of the
people of the world. 
She lay on her bed in the corpse position and concentrated her  mind 
143
on listening out for the voice of the unknown person -  the person who, 
somehow, had managed to draw her into submitting to him. It was  as 
though he had some compelling force over her. No one but the professor 
would have been able to make her use her mind while she was  in a con- 
scious state. But he, Robin, had succeeded in doing so. 
Helen ran her  lilly-white  fingers through her long,  mousey hair, 
moving it away from her eyes and forehead. Her eyelids slowly closed,
cutting off the distractions of her bedroom, her artwork hanging on the 
walls... 
“Helen? It’s me, Robin. Now, I don’t want you to say anything, not until 
after I have finished saying what I want to tell you.”
“Okay, Robin...” replied a faint, bewildered voice. 
“I know that my calling you has been a shock, but believe me, I 
wouldn’t be asking you to help me unless it was of the greatest importance. 
I’ll start from the very beginning   -  that way you’ll understand more 
easily what I’m about  to tell you. 
Not long ago, my mind somehow   travelled  forward in time. I had no 
idea what was happening. I became   very ill and it was the professor’s idea 
to put me under hypnosis in order to find out what was bothering me. It 
was then that we found that I had  travelled  in time to the date of April 
nineteen eighty-eight. There I witnessed the horrors of living in a
post-holocaust Britain. When enough information had been gathered
about how the war had started, and who was  the final victor of this full- 
scale conflict, I only just succeeded in   travelling  back in time to now. Soon 
after returning here, the professor had tried to make the Government
aware of the oncoming disaster. He didn’t tell them how he came about
this information  -  he was protecting me and my colleagues from being 
exploited by the politicians. So that he wouldn’t be persecuted himself, he " committed suicide... 
“What did you say? Tell me it can’t he so!"  her mind cried, 
‘I don’t believe you, Joseph can’t be dead. Oh no, please say it’s not 
true, please!” 
She moved restlessly across her bed. This came as a great emotional 
blow to her. The professor had   treated her as his own child-she could   re- 
late to what Robin had said about him, protecting his friends from the
government. He had done the same for her. 
“Helen, it’s true. I found him myself. I know how you must be feeling,  I 
cried for days. Please believe me and   trust  me. Before the professor died he 
had written a letter to me. In it he explained why he had taken his life   -  it 
was for me. He didn’t want anyone to know about my powers, until I was 
144 

stronger and older. But what he had asked me to do, for his sake and 
memory, was to somehow stop the war from happening. He said not to 
allow emotion, my emotions, to cloud my vision of what I was to do. You
must do the same. Joseph did what he did to save us and the world. Don’t
let his death go to waste. Do you now understand? Though he’s not here
on earth with us physically, he’s all around us. He wrote in his letter that he
would always be with us. I believe him and so must you. We don’t have
much time now.” 
Helen remained silent, twisting her hands in anguish. She felt 
as though her heart was being splintered, sharp dagger points turning 
slowly within her, causing her terrible pain. A tear ran down one side of 
her face. 
“Robin, what  are  we going to do? Are you sure that we are going to 
have a nuclear war in nineteen eighty-nine?” 
“Yes Helen, I’m sure. I wouldn’t joke about anything as important as 
that. Something that puzzled me for a while was that I started drawing
some pictures for no apparent reason. My friends were surprised to see 
them -you see, I’m no artist. I drew a portrait of you, before I knew of your 
existence, and also 1 drew what only could be described as a post-holo-
caust scene of New York. Now, did you draw those pictures yourself 
anytime during the past week?” 
“Yeah, I drew both of those. How did you know that?”
“Well it was a colleague of mine that came to that conclusion. You see, 
I was going through the professor’s files when I came across your   name. 
When1 told  the others your name and where you lived, Alison saw   the con- 
nection. She said that, as I’d named the portrait as being Helen and also 
drawn the landscape of New York   -  well, we guessed that I must have been 
copying your drawings. That was the only sensible conclusion we could
think of.” 
“Oh, I get it now. What probably happened was that, when I was draw- 
ing these pictures for my course work, my subconscious was sending out
some sort of   signal.  I’d been having these nightmares over the last month.  I 
used wake up during the night screaming and crying, cold sweat literally
dripping off my body.” 
“What exactly did you see, Helen?” 
"It was horrific. It was a city, but it had deteriorated so much  that there 
were people wandering around hungry. There would be people, lying in
the sides of streets, dying. Weak hands stretched out, begging for food...  I 
don’t want to talk about it, it upsets me too much.” 
“Okay Helen, you needn’t say any more about it. I understand what 
you’re going through.” 
145
“Robin, I’m scared. How are we going to stop the war? It’s going to be 
damn near impossible.” 
“Don’t  worry! I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” 
“I can’t help but be scared. I’d rather die than live in this world after a 
nuclear  war." 
“You mustn’t talk like that. Now Joseph had faith in us. He wouldn’t 
have committed suicide if he thought that we wouldn’t be able to do some-
thing. We mustn’t be disheartened. Remember, this is for him, not for
anyone else.” 
“All right Robin,  I’ll  help you as best I can.” 
Helen stopped short. She could hear a distant cry from her mother, 
calling for her to come down. 
“What’s wrong, Helen? Why aren’t you talking to me?”
‘I can hear my mum calling. I’ve got to go now, but we can do this 
again later. Look,  I’ll  be in bed by ten tonight, speak to me then. We won’t 
be disturbed then.” 
“Okay, I’ll speak to you ten o’clock, your time.”
Robin gasped a sigh of relief once their communication had ceased. 
He had been very nervous, not knowing how Helen would react. 
He went downstairs to see his friends, who had been waiting patiently 
in the lounge. 
‘How did it all go, Robin? Is she going to help us?” asked  Alison, 
anxiously. The others nodded their heads, beckoning him to reply quickly. 
“Well? Tell us Robin, did it go well?” 
“All right,  hang on. At least let me sit down,   then I'll tell you. I've always 
said that you’re too impatient, Harry” 
Robin sat himself down in the armchair and made himself comfort- 
able before giving a full report to the students. 
“Not bad, not bad at all! She was as cold as ice when we first started 
talking. I  think  she must have thought  that  I was some person working for 
the Government. You see, I had hit a sore note when I mentioned Professor
Fergere’s name. She didn’t want to believe me at first, that Joseph had com- 
mitted suicide. But after a while, once she had  brought  her barrier down, 
she was quite willing to listen to me. I’ve arranged to speak to  her at  greater 
length after ten o’clock, her time, tonight. She’s taken the same attitude as
ourselves  -  that we must succeed in this project, if only because it would 
have meant so much to the  professor." 
“Oh, thank God for that. So she is willing to help us?”
“Yes Harry, she’s going to co-operate with us fully, to the  best  of her 
abilities. And, believe you me, they are phenomenal abilities. I could feel 
146 

how much power she possessed, even from our brief conversation just 
now.” 
“Robin, I still can’t see why it’s so  itiportant  that Helen is involved in 
this. What exactly have you got planned, if anything.” 
“I don’t quite know what yet, Matthew, but I’m sure that Helen’s 
powers will be needed...” 
“Come off it, Robin, pull the other one. It’s obvious that you’ve got a 
damn good idea of what you think should be done.  So why don’t  you tell 
us? Are you scared that we’ll disagree and tell you to  think  of something 
else? I thought we were meant to be working as a team. In a team, each
member trusts and respects the other members, enough to inform them
about theirpossibleplans  and ideas. For all we  know, it's probably a smash- 
ing idea that’s being hatched in your mind. So please tell us -you never 
know, we may be able to elaborate on it and come up with some other good 
points.” 
Matthew drew a deep breath. He had been waiting for a long time 
to tell Robin, truthfully, exactly what had been preying on his mind. He
was right in what he had said. The other students had  realised  what 
was happening  -  that each day, Robin told them  less about what he was 
planning. 
“So you’re right again, Matthew. Yes, I have got some idea of what 
should be done to stop the war. But I would have told you all about it
sooner or later, it was just a matter of time...” 
“Don’t dither! There’s no  use  waffling, I won’t forget what you’re meant 
to be telling us, Robin. I’m not going to let you pussy-foot your way out of
this one. Now, all I want to know is, what are you proposing we do?” 
“Okay, okay! If you really want to know, then here goes.”
Matthew listened expectantly as Robin began.
“Now, you remember what I said about us having looked at the prob- 
lem from a wrong perspective?” 
“Yes...” replied the students in unison.
“Well, the mot of the problem as I see it, is Iran making the mistake of 
allowing Russia to enter their country. Right, it’s well-known that the
Iranian leader is heavily inclined towards Communism and that his
people are unhappy with the situation. So, with the Iranian leader shortly
off to America to meet the President, what better than for him to have a
heart attack or a brain  haemorrhage.  It would be expected, sooner or later, 
for him to die. He’s so old  now. Anyway, as I figure it, the people of Iran 
would see it as a God-send. It is almost certain that the next leader to be
elected would be more right wing, and hence wouldn’t allow the Russians
to use his  country." 
147
‘That’s not such a bad idea, Robin. It means only one person would 
have to die to save mankind from this formidable disaster? 
Matthew praised Robin’s ingeniousness.
“One point, Robin...”
“Yes, Matthew?”
“The idea, as I’ve already said, is brilliant But what do you need Helen 
for?”
“I was was  wondering when  you would come to that. When the time is 
right  -  you know, when the Iranian leader is at a press conference, soon 
after he arrives  -  what we’ll do is concentrate all our powers into Helen, 
who will use the power to cause the brain  haemorrhage  or heart attack." 
“Yes, but can’t we do do that without her?”
“I was thinking that. But what if the distance, from us here in England, 
to New York or Washington, is too far? What if our powers don’t have the
desired effect? Helen is based in the States and, although there’s going to 
be quite a distance between her and the Iranian leader, it won’t be as much 
of a problem. With our powers backing her up, there is no reason why we
should fail.” 
“Okay Robin, I can’t argue with that. Sony I had niggled at you before, 
but I had to do it All I can say now, is that I’m pleased I know what you’re
planning.  All that remains is for you to tell Helen of the plan and for us all to 
pray that everything  runs smoothly on the day. We haven’t a lot of time, 
have we? The Iranian leader is due to go to the States in about a fortnight’s
time." 
“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Matthew. It  means  a lot, 
coming from you.” 
They spent the rest of the day out of the house. Everyone was pleased 
with the situation  -  they had no fears of Robin’s plan failing. 
They decided to go to the New Forest It was, after all, a warm day, and 
the sunshine made them all feel a bit brighter. 
It was the first time in months that they had felt at ease -as though a 
heavy burden had been lifted off their shoulders. The whole day was relax-
ing and enjoyable, and there were no arguments. 
Wandering through the trees, they took   twos  in playing with 
Simpson. 
All in  all, it was a very peaceful stroll, in some beautiful  scenery... 

148 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

AFTERMATH 

IRANIAN LEADER DIES ON TOUCHDOWN 
By JIMMY STRAISON In Washington. 
He, and the President of the United States of America were to begin 
top level peace negotiations, in the hope of solving the current Gulf crisis. 
The Iranian aircraft landed in Washington at nine thirty last night 
Only twenty minutes later, whilst the Iranian leader and the President
were giving a live press conference, the Ayatollah collapsed and died
within seconds. He had suffered a cardiac arrest. 
The delegation of Iranian aids admitted that their leader had been ill, 
on and off, for a long time. According to one spokesman, it was only a
matter of time before something like this happened; 
President Ronald Reagan, for the last few months, has been pressing 
the western allies to give the U.S. support in its effort to escort and  ensure 
the safety of oil shipments in the Gulf. Just two months  ago President 
Reagan had built up the U.S. Middle East task force  with another three war- 
ships, in order to assist the six naval ships already there. 
The sudden crisis in the Gulf started when an Iraqi  exocet  missile hit 
the U.S. warship Stark, killing thirty seven sailors. 
149

During these talks, it was hoped that the leaders could come to some
agreement regarding the worldwide alarm over the the latest addition to
the Iranian armoury - the Silkworm missiles. It is said that these missiles
have a range of sixty miles and possess three times the power of the
Exocet.
The world now waits as Iran chooses a new leader. However, it is a well
known fact that there are many religious factions in Iran and it is highly
probable that the mighty power struggle will result in a bloodbath.
150

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