| Kindred Spirits - Stara Majka |
| Kindred Spirits - Stara
Majka (Grandmother or old wise mother) By Jackie Clark Part 0 of 11 Synopsis: An unusual ally joins the TPs struggle for survival. The Kindred Spirits universe is dedicated to the late Philip Gilbert. Background Information. This is the sixth story in the Kindred Spirits universe and it is
advisable for you to read the following stories in order, before reading
this tale. Thanks to both Elizabeth and Anyta for beta reading this story, and especially to Elizabeth for making this universe come to life. Disclaimer: E-mail Address(es): |
Kindred Spirits - Stara Majka By Jackie Clark Part 1 of 11 October 2020 "I won't!" Sanela stubbornly threw the coat to the ground and pouted. "I don't want to go away." The old woman sighed, snatched up the coat and pushed it into the hastily packed luggage. "I've had just about enough of you, young lady," she said tetchily. "You don't have a choice in this matter: we're leaving tonight, whether you like it or not. If you won't wear a coat like your brother, then you'll just have to get cold!" Sanela stared angrily at the ground, the corners of her mouth turned downwards in a scowl. Mumbling under her breath, the old woman watched as the suitcase slowly unfastened itself and the coat floated free. "And that's enough of that!" she scolded, looking about her nervously as she snatched the coat from mid-air and placed it back around her granddaughter's shoulders. "It was your brother's little display in the village this afternoon which led to this mess." Softening a little, the old woman lowered her voice to a whisper. "You and Adi are Tomorrow People. There can be no doubt about this fact; you may not have reached breakout age yet, but you're already showing the signs that you've inherited your parents' abilities. You saw what the townspeople did to those other children - burnt alive at the stake as if this was still the Dark Ages. I'm sorry that we have to leave like this, but you are in my charge and I swore to your parents that nothing bad would ever befall you." The young girl looked up at the old woman apologetically. "I understand, Majka. I'm sorry about the coat. Adi and I must get to the city to find people like us. We know that now and we're ready for the journey." Lowering her stiff, aged frame to hug the child, Emina smiled. Sanela, despite the maturity in her words, was in fact only a few months past her seventh birthday and had little idea of the risks inherent in a trip to the city. The old woman found herself wondering what dangers lay ahead for Sanela and her brother. Would they end up in one of the camps, like their parents? Or be forced into a life on the run, never again being able to call one place home? She knew that these were thoughts that she could never speak about in front of the children. One day, when they were much older, they would be able to handle the truth about their parents' disappearance. For now all she could think of was to get them as far away from this place as possible, before a lynch mob came knocking down their door.
As soon as the approaching train stopped, they jumped aboard and took seats in a thankfully empty carriage. Once settled, Adi and Sanela fell instantly asleep. Emina watched the beautiful Bosnian landscape flash past the window
as the train picked up speed. The forested hillsides and high mountain
ranges that had once spoken to her of safety now looked menacingly dangerous
as they gleamed in the early morning sunshine. She had been raised in
the village of Spionica and had in turn raised her own children and
grandchildren there. Even during the civil war, these secluded valleys
with their hand-tilled farmsteads had offered shelter from the worst
of the fighting. It was as if this small corner of the world stood still
in time. Traditions passed down through the generations were still adhered
to centuries later. To outsiders it must have looked as if Spionica
had been left behind by the rest of the world. That was until ten years
ago, when the first of the village's children had broken out. The schoolteacher
had reported it to the village council at once, her city-trained mind
aware that the talents displayed by these youngsters heralded a massive
evolutionary transformation in the world's population. She pointed out
quite forcibly that these changes could not be kept at bay by the mountain
range, as the Serbian soldiers had been, but her argument fell on deaf
ears. When she came to the end of her report, the council leaders simply
scoffed at her ideas. These events were happening in the outside world,
they replied, which had nothing to do with their sleepy little village;
there was no need to panic anyone with this news. They assured her that
the children who displayed these strange powers would grow out of it,
so she left them to the more pressing matter of a boundary dispute between
two local farmers. Emina had been more open to their explanations, though. Especially when Alija announced his impending marriage to a pretty blond girl called Tamara, who was unquestionably one of these Tomorrow People. It had taken a further two years and the birth of two grandchildren before Emina's husband had finally come around to accepting his daughter-in-law. This brief respite in their family's troubles had lasted for six wonderful years. Years filled with happy family parties, sharing the labours of the land and the joys of the harvest together in their sprawling household. Even the sudden death of her husband, just a year after Sanela's birth, was cushioned by the closeness of the family. Whenever Alija or Tamara was in the house there was an overwhelming feeling of empathy and calm that pervaded not just the walls, but the very hearts of everyone close enough to sense it. Emina also knew that Alija and Tamara had another secret life outside the confines of this tranquil rural setting. Although they often jaunted back in secret to the bright lights of the city, she never asked where they went or what they did there. She was happy that they chose to make their home in her small rustic corner of the earth. It was a warm, lazy autumn afternoon of the previous year when their idyllic lifestyle was shattered by the arrival of the intelligence services. Terror-filled memories of the war had shocked Emina out of her reverie on the back porch, and she had swept up Adi and Sanela into her arms, plunging them down through the hidden trapdoor and into the underground cellars that ran the length of the house. From this hiding place they listened to the raised voices of her many children, soon returned from the fields, as they argued for their brother's immediate release. Finally the house went silent and all that she could hear was the battered Land Rover as it sped into the distance along the dusty uneven road, carrying Alija and Tamara unconscious on the back seat. Unable to comprehend what had happened, the children had accepted the family's explanation of their parents' disappearance. But the lie - that they had left on important business in the city - once told, was hard to maintain over the coming weeks. Emina tried every avenue she could think of, in an attempt to trace Alija and Tamara, but it looked as if they had vanished off the face of the earth. Every day that followed Emina prayed for their safe return, hoping that they had, in fact, jaunted to the safety of their secret headquarters. Then, as the weeks turned into months, the sickening news started to reach the farm: news about the rounding up of all those with unusual talents. The rumours told them that all Bosnian Tomorrow People had been taken across the border to reside in a specially developed camp. This gossip brought back dark and traumatic memories to Emina, memories long buried in the furthest recesses of her mind. She had been an infant at the end of the Second World War, but despite this could still recall the atrocities of the concentration camps. As she grew up, the history books promised such violence would never happen again, a promise quickly broken by the authorities during the Bosnian-Herzegovinan conflict. And now they seemed hell-bent on repeating the violence all over again. Emina rapidly became anxious, not just for the safety of Tamara and Alija, but also for the sanity of their leaders and ultimately for the continued peace of the entire country. Now the growing tension forced her to embark, at the age of eighty-two, on her first ever journey away from the rural community where she had lived all her life. A journey necessitated by Adi's display of telekinesis at the market the previous day and the growing realisation that the same fate could befall her grandchildren as had befallen their parents. This voyage into the unknown territory of the city was a risk she had to take, not just for their sakes, but also for the continued safety of her many children and grandchildren back at the farm in Spionica. Emina knew that alone she could not cope with two potential Tomorrow People and the unpredictability of their emerging powers. Looking down at the sleeping children, she prayed that she would make contact with someone, anyone, able to help her through what lay ahead. The sun was high in the sky as she shook Sanela and Adi awake. The train had just pulled into Tuzla's central station, but from here she had no idea where to go next. Struggling to lift the heavy case down onto the platform, she looked around at the stressed faces of the commuters and waited while Adi and Sanela also stepped down from the train. "Where shall we go now, Majka?" asked Sanela, looking around her at the strange people in their smart suits and short skirts. "I'm hungry," cried Adi. "Can we have some breakfast, please?" There was a cough from behind them and they looked around as a shabbily dressed porter stepped forward to lift the heavy bag. "Can I be of assistance, Stara Majka?" he asked cheekily, knowing full well that once the case was on his trolley no civilised person would ask him to remove it. Emina looked at the impudent young man and gave him a curt nod. "Only if you can point us in the direction of the nearest eating establishment. My grandchildren and I have travelled through the night, and it's high time we found some refreshment." The porter began to trot towards the station's exit, looking back
over his shoulder to make sure his customers were following him. "It
just so happens that my brother runs the best eating establishment on
this side of the city. It's conveniently situated across the road from
the station."
Her companion slammed his drink noisily onto the table. "I doubt that anyone does, but I'm sure that won't stop you from giving it!" The woman went on, indifferent to his growing annoyance. "In my opinion, these Tomorrow People have got the Government worried. Not just here, but in other countries too. That's why the authorities panicked, that's why they rounded them up and took them to you know where..." There was a sudden silence in the café. It was as if everyone present were waiting for something to happen. Then, a heartbeat later, the usual chinking of cups and murmur of chatter resumed, and the woman continued, "And that's why there's no mention of it, even in the international press!" The man looked about them nervously and whispered, "This is not the place to be discussing such things, Vera," then deliberately raising his voice once again, he added, "if the Government thought it best to segregate them from the rest of the population, they probably had a very good reason. Who are we to question their judgement?" She glared at him angrily, and then looked down at his empty plate. "Doesn't anybody care any more? Have we all become so cushioned in our safe, commercialised lifestyle that we've lost the nerve to speak out against injustice?" She stood up abruptly. "Come on, we're going home." From across the room Emina had listened intently to the couple's exchange, all the while keeping herself busily focussed on her grandchildren's needs, in an attempt to look disinterested. The woman's words had cut through her earlier confusion by revealing the imminent dangers of the city. From Spionica it had seemed that only a few local TPs had been rounded up, but now it was evident that nowhere in the entire country was safe. As the couple brushed past their table, Emina suppressed the desire to reach out and grab the woman's arm. She wanted to question her on what she knew, wanted to ask when these trucks had been sighted in the city, but most of all she wanted to demand the location of 'you know where'. Despite this growing pressure for information, Emina also knew that such an act would draw too much attention to herself and the children. She had lived through times like this before and her instincts warned her that no one, not even this innocent looking couple, could be trusted. "It's all right, Majka," whispered Adi from beside her, "she doesn't know any more about our parents' disappearance than you do." Emina's jaw dropped as she digested the implications of what he said. Too stunned to reply, she just sat in shocked silence, watching as the children finished eating the huge plate of fried bacon and potatoes laid before them.
Sanela looked across at her brother, who was just finishing the last mouthful of his own meal. Nodding silently, she looked up at the café owner. "Yes, please. We'd love to share a piece of ca…" Emina gave a small cough to grab the children's attention and Sanela stopped mid-sentence. That some kind of primitive telepathic exchange had just occurred was obvious, and in other circumstances Emina would have been overjoyed to witness such miracles, but here and now, in front of hostile strangers, displays of their emerging powers were far too dangerous to go unchallenged. Emina stared at each of them in turn to convey her annoyance before saying, "I think we'll take the cake with us, if you don't mind. It's high time we were moving along. Can we have the bill, please?" The café proprietor had also noticed the strangeness in Sanela's response and her expression immediately changed from pleasant friendliness to hostile suspicion. Ignoring the request for the bill, the woman continued to stare at Sanela and Adi, who in turn stared back defiantly. "Are these two yours?" she asked pointedly. "Yes, they are my youngest son's children. He and his wife work on the other side of the city. We've come up from the country for a holiday." This hasty excuse didn't seem to satisfy the café owner. "Strange time of year to be taking a holiday," she remarked, as she noisily collected the last of the plates. There was a pause that hung in the air between them while the woman thought through what to do next. "There's a lot of strange things been happening in the city recently," she added. Emina began to collect her belongings together. "Yes, so it seems." She paused looking up into the woman's eyes. "Can we have the bill, please?" she asked again, with greater insistence. Standing, Emina approached the woman who backed fearfully up the aisle between the tables, then scurried behind the serving counter, where she started to cut and wrap two large pieces of cake. "Perhaps there's some things it's better we don't know about," she mumbled to herself, articulating her thoughts. "People better off kept away from the rest of us." Emina felt her temper flaring. "I'm sorry," she said angrily, "I didn't quite catch that. My hearing isn't as good as it used to be. To whom are you referring? Who should be kept away from us?" The café proprietor became even more scared than before and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "Them," she replied, scanning the room like a cornered animal. "Those youngsters with magical powers everyone's been talking about." She looked down at the children and noticed the same air of self-assurance in their gaze she had witnessed recently in other customers: an attitude that, until now, she had not associated with the rumours. The woman shivered. Perhaps the Tomorrow People did exist after all, she thought. Perhaps the city was crawling with them! The café owner pushed the wrapped cake fearfully across the counter top and Sanela stepped forward to retrieve it, causing her to back away apprehensively. "I'd be obliged if you'd leave now," said the woman. Opening her mouth to speak, Emina's attention was suddenly drawn by Adi's hand on her arm. "Come on, Majka," he said, with all the innocence of an eight-year-old child. "The bus is leaving in ten minutes. Let's take our cake and go." Emina gave a thankful nod and calmed herself. "You are right, dear. We must get to the bus station. We don't want to keep your parents waiting for us, do we?" "Here's your bill," said the café owner, snatching up a scribbled piece of paper from her pad. "The children can have their cake for free. It'll keep them going until you reach your destination…" Her voice trailed off. "Wherever that may be." From under her coat and shawl Emina produced a worn leather wallet. Fumbling in it for a few seconds, she retrieved some money, which she placed onto the counter before turning towards the door. "Thank you for the nice meal," she said over her shoulder, ushering Sanela and Adi ahead of her. "I'll make sure we pop back in here next time we're passing." The woman's body stiffened. "No!" she snapped, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Strangers aren't welcome here in the city - now, or in the future." Shocked by her own tone, she smiled weakly. "What I mean is that…" She paused. "I couldn't guarantee your safety, or the safety of those children, if you ever came back. You do see that, don't you?" Emina walked back towards the counter and leaned on it angrily. Despite the network of deep furrows in her aged face and the slight trembling in her wizened fingers, she still made a formidable figure as she fixed the woman with a hard piercing stare from her steel-grey eyes. "Yes, I see it all very clearly now. I may be an old woman with bad hearing, but my eyes are as sharp as they were in my youth. I see that the people of this country have lost all their backbone!" The café proprietor began to respond, but Emina talked over her until she fell silent again. "How old are you? Thirty-five? Forty?" The café owner nodded. "What monumental challenges have you endured in your short and miserable life that gives you the right to judge me and my grandchildren? In my eighty- two years I've lived through more traumas than you've had hot dinners. I recall every one of my neighbours who disappeared at the hands of the Serbians, every father, brother and son killed defending their homes and their way of life. And I also recall vividly the look of anguish and betrayal in the eyes of people from my village as they were herded like cattle into a nameless mass grave." "That's not fair," protested the café owner. "You can't condemn me for something I had no hand in. Times have changed. Things are different now." Emina threw back her head and gave a shrill laugh. "Hah." It was almost a cackle. "Nothing has changed." She turned to walk away again. "It's high time you took a good look around you, my dear. I think you'll be surprised by what you see!" Wordlessly, Emina, Adi and Sanela walked out of the café.
Sanela looked down at her worn shoes and began to sniff back her tears. "But they aren't here any more," she whimpered. "The woman said they were taken -" "Papers, please?" interrupted a young but authoritative voice. "Identification cards, travel permit…" Distracted by Sanela's outburst, neither Adi nor Emina had noticed the soldier approach them from across the street. Now they were both acutely aware that they had allowed themselves to walk into the most dangerous situation they'd faced since their escape from Spionica the night before. Keeping her head bent low to look as though she were busy comforting the children, Emina ignored the young man while she decided how best to handle the situation. A look of anxiety passed between the three and Emina managed to convey, through her expression, the need for their total compliance in what she was going to do next. "Majka, I am talking to you!" said the soldier, irritably. "We are running a security sweep of the city. I need to see your identity cards." Emina began to straighten up very slowly, exaggerating both her age and her frailty. "Are you speaking to me, young man?" she asked, confusion spreading across her face. "Yes, Majka. I was asking for your identity papers." He held up a portable bar-code reader. "I can scan your IDs with this device. It won't take a minute." Emina looked the soldier up and down slowly. "Oscar, my boy, is that you? What are you doing dressed up in that funny outfit? You should be at home helping your father with his sheep. It's well past their shearing time, you know." This was obviously not going quite as smoothly as the soldier had hoped. Glancing across the street at his colleagues, he noticed them pass rapidly through the crowd, quickly checking the people's IDs with their apparatus, before moving on to the next individual or couple. Sighing deeply, he returned his attention to the aged woman fussing over two children. "Madam, you mistake me for someone else. My name is not Oscar. I am a member of BESA: the Bosnian Emergency Security Agency. We are currently running our daily sweep of the city, checking that everyone is carrying the correct identification. It's all part of the Mayor's new regulations." Pulling a large crumpled handkerchief from her pocket, Emina bent down and encouraged Sanela to blow her nose into it noisily. Ignoring the young man's growing irritation, she moved deliberately slowly as befitted such an aged mother. Eventually she pulled herself up and looked into his face. "If you aren't Oscar, then who are you?" she asked innocently. "Speak up now, boy. I'm going a bit deaf in my left ear." "Madam, please." The soldier sighed even more deeply. "I don't have all day. Show me identification for yourself and the two children, and then you can be on your way. We at BESA don't wish to delay the public any more than is necessary." Emina knew that if she gave this man her identity card, or those of her grandchildren, his electronic reader would instantly connect to the countrywide database and their relationship to two Tomorrow People would be revealed. Once known, this could lead to anything, even their own internment in one of the camps. She was also concerned that the Spionican villagers might have reported their midnight disappearance to the wider authorities. The soldier was rapidly becoming more impatient with her slow and evasive responses. "Look, Majka," he said, more belligerently this time. "I know this may seem difficult for you to understand, but you must have heard about the new laws. They've been posted on every lamppost between here and Mostar. All citizens are obliged to carry personal identification and to show it to the proper authorities on demand." Emina smiled. "Well, why didn't you say so, Oscar," she replied. "I have my purse right here." Pulling out the worn leather pouch, her hands were shaking as she fumbled about, trying to open it. Adi suddenly looked up and grabbed it from her. "Here, Majka. Let me help," he said enthusiastically. "You know how your arthritis plays you up in this damp weather." Adi opened the wallet wide and an inexplicable gust of wind suddenly caught hold of its contents. Various bank notes, documents and other debris floated out and were blown away on the breeze. "Oh no!" exclaimed the soldier, attempting to jump up and grab the documents as they fluttered over his head and flew off down the street. Watching the papers disappear as they were trampled beneath the feet of the crowd of commuters, the soldier sighed. "That's done it now, sonny. If you had been more careful…" Adi puckered up his face and burst into tears. "Majka, Majka," he cried. "The man is shouting at me. I was only trying to help." He buried his head into the comfort of Emina's shawl and sobbed miserably. "Now look what you've done," shouted Emina, making sure she was loud enough to be heard by the passers-by. "You've made him cry. Can't an old lady take her grandchildren out for their birthday treat without some nasty man coming along upsetting them? Not to mention losing her weekly pension. How am I going to pay for the zoo now? I've lost the train tickets home too, thanks to you." All eyes turned towards the young soldier who was apparently harassing this aged lady and her weeping grandchildren. "Give the old gal a chance," shouted an anonymous voice from the crowd. "You don't think she's any kind of security risk do you? Not at her age." "Yeah," called another, "leave the Majka alone. She's not doing anyone any harm." "I'm only carrying out my orders," mumbled the soldier miserably, in his own defence. He then turned back towards Emina. "I'm sorry, lady. I didn't mean to upset you or your grandchildren. I just need to check out who you are." "My name's Mia Begovich," Sanela lied. "And mine's Suni Begovich. And this is our Grandmother, Maria. She's very old and gets easily confused," added Adi, wiping his tearful face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose our identity papers." The soldier smiled, happy at least to have elicited some names from the three strangers. "Sure you didn't, sonny," he said sympathetically. "Under the circumstances, I think you should take your grandmother back home straight away, then ask your parents to apply for replacement IDs." He took out a small notebook and pencil from his jacket pocket and wrote down the names they had given. "I'll take a note of your details and add them to my records when I get back to base." Emina beamed at the young man. "That's right, Oscar," she said happily. "And when you've done that you can come back home with us. Your father could do with the help now that its shearing time." The soldier glanced around once again, noticing that his colleagues had already completed their own checks and were boarding the army truck parked at the end of the road. "Well, I've got lots to do before I can go home to help Dad," he said, humouring the confused old woman, "but I'll try." He took the wallet from the boy, placed a fifty Euro note from his own pocket into it, and handed it back into the old woman's wrinkled fingers. "Stara Majka, put this away and promise me that you'll head straight back into the station to buy your tickets home." "Oh thank you, Oscar. I'll do that, definitely. And I'll tell your father what a good boy you are." Putting the wallet carefully back inside her coat, Emina picked up the case and ushered the children in the general direction of the railway station. Shrugging, the soldier replaced the bar-code reader into its holder and darted between the cars, making his way back towards the truck. Suddenly there was a shout from behind him and a scruffy youth broke dashed out from a shop doorway. Pushing his way through the crowd, he ran up the street. Everyone turned around to look towards the disturbance and the soldier stopped in his tracks halfway across the busy road. Emerging from the shop was another of his colleagues, a sergeant by rank. There was a dribble of blood trickling from his mouth and a large bruise beginning to form on his forehead. "Stop him!" shouted the sergeant. "He slugged me when I demanded his ID." Swinging around, the soldier ran over to the sergeant. "Can I help, Sir?" "Shoot him now, before he gets away," spat the older man. The young soldier stared after the figure of the youth, who was now some distance up the street. Frozen in panic, he seemed unable to decide what to do next. "I gave you a direct order, soldier!" shouted the sergeant. Pulling out his gun from its holster, the soldier hesitated and looked at his superior in confusion. "What, here? In the street?" he asked. By now the sergeant had regained his strength and, realising that this newly trained recruit was incapable of following even the most direct command, he snatched the gun from the younger man's hand. Raising it to shoulder height, he took aim. The people around them dived for cover as the gunshot rang out. There were screams of surprise and shouts of horror from the passers-by as they watched the bullet impact into the centre of the youth's back. The young man took a few more faltering steps. A deep red bloodstain could be seen seeping through his clothing. Eventually he stumbled, fell forward and finally dropped face down onto the cold pavement. "That's better," said the Sergeant confidently, handing the gun back to the younger man. "Now, go and clear up the mess while I see the medics."
After a few minutes Emina took hold of Adi and Sanela's hands and led them slowly away from danger, all the while giving thanks for their deliverance. They had been walking for a short time when she noticed that the two children were shaking violently and she bent down to put her arms around their respective shoulders. Seeing the shocked expressions of pain and anguish in their faces, she held them to her and rocked them in her arms, just as she had done so many times when they were infants. "There, there… it's all over now. You were very brave. I understand why you feel so upset. Was he one of you? I mean, could you tell that he ran away because he was a Tomorrow Person?" Adi pulled himself away from Emina and stared into her eyes. "He definitely wasn't one of us, Majka. We have no idea why he tried to run away, but that's not what we're upset about." "Oh, my." Now it was Sanela who looked into Emina's eyes. She shook her head dejectedly, her expression more miserable than Emina had ever witnessed before. "You don't understand, Majka. You can never understand the way that we do." Emina looked at each of them in turn, confused by what she was being told. "What can't I understand?" "It's not seeing him die that has disturbed us," explained Adi. "What is it then?" "We felt him die!" Kindred Spirits - Stara Majka
Settling themselves down on a bench in the shelter of a large tree, Emina and the children cuddled up to one another. Since the incident in the street earlier that day, they had walked for many miles looking for somewhere to go. But at almost every turn they had seen more soldiers engaged in questioning passers-by and had been forced to make a hasty retreat out of the area. Now, at five-thirty, the city was beginning to empty and Emina's thoughts had to turn towards finding shelter for the night. Mindful that there would never be a good time to question the children about what they knew of their parents' secret lifestyle, Emina also realised that the situation could not be improved unless she broached the subject. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her voice. "Children," she began, "I think that we need to talk about why we're here and what happened back in the café this morning." She felt both children snuggle closer to her. Sanela's head was almost buried beneath her thick woollen shawl and Adi's eyes were closed. "I know that you can both move objects with your mind; I've seen it done a few times. But this morning you seemed to be able to use mind-speak as well. And not just with each other. You knew things about the other people… about the couple who were arguing." She paused. "How did you describe it? You felt that young man die?" "Yes," replied Adi, obviously speaking for them both. "It is something that we can't really control, though. In some Tomorrow People telepathy is the first emergent ability they show just before breakout. In others it's TK." "What's that?" asked Emina, impressed by the maturity in Adi's words. He seemed to have grown up a lot in the past twenty-four hours and Emina found herself wondering what other TP children were like at this age. From beneath the shawl Sanela's voice interrupted Emina's thoughts. "Tele neesis," she whispered mischievously. Adi opened his eyes and smiled at his sister warmly. "She means telekinesis, Majka," he corrected. "Mother used to say that she didn't know what our emergent powers would be, as we were second generation and that was still quite rare in Bosnia." She felt him stiffen in her arms at the mention of his mother. "That was before she was taken away to the camp." Emina sighed; her attempts to keep this a secret from the children had obviously failed. "When did you find out about the camp? How long have you known?" she asked softly. It was Sanela who responded to her question. "We read it from your thoughts yesterday." "I didn't think that mind-reading was one of the TP talents." "It isn't, not really," replied Sanela quietly. "Mum and Dad couldn't do it, and I don't think anyone else we met could either." "It's not proper mind-reading, Majka," continued Adi. "It's just that we feel people's emotions when they are very angry or upset. It's like yesterday, after we got back from the market and you suddenly started to pack up our things. You were really scared and thoughts of Mum and Dad and the camps were in the very front of your mind. Sanela and me just felt it, that's all." "It was the same with that lady in the café," added Sanela. "She was so scared that the soldiers would come to take her away like someone who lived in her street. But when she thought about the camps she didn't really know any more than you do. So it wouldn't have helped us if you'd asked her about it." Emina sighed once again and looked down at the children sympathetically. "And is that how you felt the young man in the street die?" Adi suddenly opened his eyes and Emina was certain that he was struggling to hold back tears. "Father once told us that when a Tomorrow Person dies you can feel the loss - it's like a piece of the background noise has gone and everything in your mind is very quiet for a while. He was sure that when Saps die there must be a similar feeling, but no one can hear them, so no one knows. " "Hmmm," said Emina. "If you are able to pick up random information from people in the street, do you two think you could use telepathy to call out to other Tomorrow People?" Adi wriggled closer. "Sorry, Majka. It doesn't work. Sanela and I have been trying it all day. We call out, but no one answers. I don't think what we can do is real telepathy. It's what mother once called impatic." Emina smiled. "I think, dear, what you mean is empathic." Sitting up, she pulled the last of the cake from her pocket and began to unwrap it. "Let's talk about something else, then. Did Alija or Tamara ever tell you about where they went when they jaunted?" Taking the small piece of sponge from Emina, Adi broke it roughly in half and stuffed the largest piece into his mouth first. "They went to the Lab," he said through a mouthful of cake. "And where exactly is this Lab and how can we find it?" asked Emina, urgency showing in her tone. "It's going to be dark in a few hours time and we'll obviously have to walk there, as we can't jaunt." Sanela was also enjoying the last of her share of the cake and spoke out eagerly, despite the fact that her mouth was full. "There's not just one Lab: there's hundreds of them all over the world. No one knows where they are, as they're all hidden underground. But I don't think there are many in Bosnia. Daddy didn't get to go to one until years after his breakout. He said that security is tighter now and we may never go to one at all." "Didn't your parents tell you how to make contact with the Tomorrow People, in case they weren't around? How did you call them home when you needed them?" The children both shook their heads in unison. "We didn't," said Adi matter-of-factly. The futility of the situation suddenly hit Emina. She had not known what to expect in the city, but had hoped that, walking around as they had been, the local Tomorrow People would sense who they were and approach them to offer aid. Now it seemed there were no free TPs left, and the situation looked very grim indeed. While Emina was deep in thought, Adi was finishing the second half of his cake. Folding the paper napkin carefully, he stood up and walked over to drop it into the nearest litterbin. "Of course, there's always the computer," he mumbled absent-mindedly as he retook his seat on the bench beside them. Shocked from her ruminations, Emina turned towards him. "What about the computer?" she asked. "I heard Mum and Dad arguing once. She was saying that we should buy a computer to have at the farm, that we could use it to check on cyberspace." He paused. "Go on," urged Emina, curious about where this information was leading. "Well, Daddy didn't want us to have one at all. He knew we used them at school, and couldn't stop that, but he didn't want one at home. He said that there were nasty people who did bad things to children. Mummy said that computers were safe because they were monitored. She said that we mustn't be held back, as technology would be important to us once we broke out. She told him that there were places in cyberspace where we could go to meet friends like ourselves, places that were sympathetic to the Tomorrow People. She said she could arrange for other Tomorrow People to monitor what we did with the computer, so that no one could ever harm us." "So why didn't Alija get this computer?" asked Emina enthusiastically, her thoughts racing. "Mummy tried to convince him for a long time, but they disagreed about it so much that they had to stop talking about it. It always ended in an argument." Emina shook her head in disbelief. "How come I never heard any of these arguments?" Sanela responded to the question before Adi could open his mouth. "Because they used telepathy, silly." Adi looked across at his sister, angered by the interruption. "We only know because we overheard the worst ones when they both got very upset about it. But the important thing is that there will be Tomorrow People out there in cyberspace monitoring places where children go." Emina jumped up from the bench and grabbed the case. "Well, then," she began, "we'd better get our skates on if we're going to find somewhere that has a computer we can use. It's getting late and the shops will be closing in a few minutes." Pulling her shawl up over her head to retain some warmth, she headed towards the gates. Adi and Sanela also got up and followed her. They left the park and had just crossed a large, busy road junction when Emina suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. "Where exactly will we find a computer?" she asked herself aloud. Adi smiled at his sister. "Majka," the children laughed together, "you're as old-fashioned as Daddy. We'll find lots of them in an Internet café. Everyone knows that."
The petite redhead walked across the room and looked over her companion's shoulder at the various windows showing on his console. "Which room is she in?" "I'm not certain. I think she came in from the link on our news front page. You know, the one Sophie's media team put out after the recent spate of disappearances. The one that looks like someone's homepage, but carries a news and views forum." "Yes, Steve. I know the one. I'm one of the major contributors." She glanced down at him irritably. "That site gets a lot of hits and enquiries from media types researching all the government 'Secret Squirrel' stuff that's been going on. Are you sure this girl isn't a journalist trying to infiltrate our network?" Steve tapped his fingers deftly across the keyboard and brought up the security logs. "Hmmm," he said, more to himself than his companion, "that's interesting. She's located in Central Bosnia: Tuzla, to be precise. Her ident shows her as using a common provider, almost certainly from a cybercafé. It's probably some teenager who's heard the rumours and thinks it's funny to scare other people in the chat rooms." Zoë leant across to use the keyboard and the original chat window was displayed once again. The new arrival had just typed something about making objects move at school to impress her friends, prompting the rest of the people present to make hasty excuses to leave. "Or perhaps she's a government operative trying to lure us to her location," Zoë remarked. "If she's an agent, she's damn good," commented Steve, his eyes glued to the comings and goings in the chat room. "This is just too damn obvious to be for real. Anyone in his or her right mind knows what's been happening to TPs worldwide. Only a complete idiot goes broadcasting who and what they are openly like this." Straightening up, Zoë prepared to jaunt. "I'll check in with TIM, see if he can locate her access point more specifically. Then we may have a little surprise up our sleeve for her. That is, if it's a her at all!" (And what should I do?) 'pathed Steve, as she dematerialised before him. (Talk to the kid. You never know - perhaps she's actually on the level, and if that's the case she's in more need of our immediate help than she realises.) ************************* Kindred Spirits - Stara Majka A chat room somewhere in cyberspace.
Hope: Yes, where did everyone go? Evetson_21: All that talk of yours about special powers scared them away, I guess. Hope: You do believe me, don't you? You do believe that I can do the things I said? Evetson_21: LOL you're not serious kid? I guess you sound genuine enough, but you know what people are like in here. Cyber space is full of weirdos claiming all sorts of things. Hope: I'm not a weirdo; I'm a Tomorrow Person. And I need to contact other TPs like me. You have heard about the Tomorrow People, haven't you? Evetson_21: I've heard rumours, yeah. People say that these kids can get into your head and make you do things. That's why the other chatters got scared. I've heard it said that they want to take over the world to kill everyone who doesn't agree with their way of thinking. Hope: We don't want to take over the world. We don't! Evetson_21: Whatever you say, kiddo, but I wouldn't go sounding off about having these strange powers if I was you. My Dad says that they are locking up everyone who's different. BTW how old are you? Hope: I'm 14, why? Evetson_21: Oh nothing, it's just that we get lots of kids in here mucking about. Hope: Do you use this channel very often? Evetson_21: Now and then. I guess you could say I'm a regular - that's why I've got ops. I look after the channel when no one else is around. Hope: And do many people come into this channel to chat? Have any Tomorrow People ever been in here? Evetson_21: Yeah, quite a few people come in here, but no one's ever claimed to be a TP before. How would I know if they are one? Evetson_21: We usually talk about TV and what's going on in the world. That's why we're linked to a news forum. That's where you came in from, right? Hope: I did a search for the Tomorrow People and the news forum came up. I thought there'd be lots of sites giving details of how to contact them. Evetson_21: You know, I think you're on the level, kiddo. Wow! I never thought that these people existed before. But as I said, I'd be careful broadcasting to strangers about what you can do. Do your folks know what you're up to? Hope: No. They're away on holiday. You've made me scared now. What do you think I should do about it? Evetson_21: How can I say, kiddo? Do whatever you want to do, but keep your mouth shut. Whereabouts are you, anyway? Hope: I'm in Tuzla, Bosnia. Evetson_21: Well, if I were you I'd go straight back home and lie low for a while. You're lucky you bumped into me in this channel, you never know who's watching or listening, you know. Hope: I can trust you, can't I? Evetson_21: That's a strange question… How do you know I'm not someone who's gonna get on the phone and call the cops straight away? I may have called them already. Hope: But you haven't. I know you haven't… Evetson_21: I still think that you might be trying to get at me, somehow. You could be pretending to be an innocent kid when you're really trying to brainwash me. Evetson_21: Take my advice, kid, go home and forget about this Tomorrow People nonsense. I gotta go soon myself - my boss will be back and I don't wanna be caught chatting and lose my job. Hope: Well, thanks for the help. Evetson_21: I ain't helped you at all, really. But it was nice chatting to you for a while. Go home and forget about it, if you know what's good for you. Hope: If only I could… if only it were that simple. Hope has left chat. Signed out at 20:23 Emina watched as Adi closed the chat window. It had been a gamble to try and make contact with other TPs via cyberspace, and when they first started their search it had looked as if this venture were paying off. Unfortunately, the more they searched the more she lost hope of ever finding a contact. "Thank you, Adi," she remarked. "You did very well typing for me. My fingers aren't as flexible as yours and I've never used a keyboard before." During their brief exchange with the person in the chat channel, Adi had sat in front of the screen, with Emina seated to his left giving instructions on what to type, and Sanela standing by his right shoulder reading the conversation as it appeared on the screen. Sanela now walked around and sat upon her grandmother's lap. "Oh, Majka," she sighed, "that boy didn't know anything. He was scared of us too." Emina straightened her granddaughter's hair, picked up a napkin and used it to wipe the residue of Sanela's drink from around her mouth. "I know, sweetheart. It's not his fault; he was scared like everyone else. But at least we know that there are people all around the world who've heard about the TPs. Even if they think falsely that you and your kind are trying to take over the world, at least we know that other TPs do exist." Lifting the child off her aching knees and putting her back onto the floor, Emina stood and prepared to leave. Turning around in the cramped booth, she pressed the eject button and her credit card sprang out of the automated billing device. "My, my," she mumbled to herself, "such advances in technology… I must be getting old." They had entered the cybercafé a few hours earlier, thankful for the warmth and welcoming smell of freshly brewed coffee. While the children gulped down steaming mugs of frothy, cream-covered hot chocolate, Emina had satisfied herself with a cup of herbal tea and chatted to the waitress. It was with some surprise that the young woman led them to a private booth at the back of the shop, where various computers were housed. Explaining in the simplest language she could think of, the waitress helped Emina to insert and verify her credit card before logging onto the Internet. Watching as Adi opened a search engine, Emina found herself wondering what sorts of people used this new-fangled communication technology. Sitting as they were in soundproof booths, she imagined all sorts of strange carnal activities going on just behind the wall. Realising that such thoughts might be picked up by the children, she stifled her speculation and concentrated upon Adi's search for some information on the Tomorrow People. The cost of their two-hour long excursion into the unreal world of cyberspace was something Emina had hardly thought about during the fascinating trek across various web sites and news forums. Now that she had ejected the card and could hear the printer whirring as it completed the process of issuing her receipt, she began to worry again. Could the authorities trace her through their computer network? Could they be closing, even now, on her position, ready to snatch them all away to the unknown terrors of an internment camp? She looked down, grabbing the small white receipt from the printer interface, and her worst fears suddenly came true. Instead of the usual columns of figures and tax details, the crisp paper spoke of nothing but horror as she read the words printed there. YOU ARE BEING TRACKED. GET OUT OF THERE FAST. TRUST NO ONE. EVETSON_21. Kindred Spirits - Stara Majka They ran from the café together, Emina carrying the heavy case and Adi dragging his sister along by the hand. Once outside, Emina scanned the area in search of some kind of transport that could take them to the airport. It was Adi who spotted it first, his youthful eyes noticing the destination board of a large blue bus as it stopped in one of the side streets. "What exactly does it say?" asked Emina, straining to see the detail in the dimly lit street. Adi pulled at his grandmother's coat sleeve. "Debovac Airport shuttle," he replied. "Quick, Majka, quick." Running across the street, dodging the traffic as they went, they reached the vehicle just as the driver prepared to pull away. He spotted them waving and banging on the glass-panelled door and opened it with a sigh to let them in. "How long will it take to get to the airport?" asked Emina, panting for breath after the rigours of the dash through the traffic. "About forty minutes," replied the heavy-set, red-faced driver, as Emina dropped some change into his hand. "Faster, if you take your seats quickly." He suddenly looked over her shoulder. "What now?" Just behind them another would-be passenger had hastily climbed aboard. "Thanks for waiting," he remarked to the driver nonchalantly. "I almost missed you then. The check-in for my flight finishes in fifty minutes." The driver sighed noisily. "What's with you people? Can't anyone ever be on time these days?" He took the stranger's money and the bus suddenly lurched out into the flow of the evening traffic. "Hold tight," shouted the driver as they started their shaky advance through the tide of vehicles ahead. Adi led his sister up the aisle of the bus, heading for the high seats at the very back of the vehicle. Meanwhile, Emina struggled to lift the heavy case into the luggage rack. Suddenly startled by a man's hand taking hold of the suitcase's leather grip, she looked over her shoulder. "Here, allow me to help you, Majka," said the man who had entered the bus behind them. Swinging around, Emina looked him quickly up and down, then it hit her. There was the definite bulge of a weapon hidden beneath his neat trench coat. Emina had seen enough concealed weapons during the war-torn years of her life to recognise what she was seeing now and it scared her to death. Still gripping the case tightly, she froze mid-action, unable to decide what to do or say. There was a long pause during which they just stared into each other's eyes, both knowing instinctively that the other had guessed their true identity and purpose. From the back of the coach, Sanela gave a stifled scream as she read the terrified thoughts of her grandmother. Adi had also picked up Emina's frantic deliberations as she considered whether to jump from the bus and attempt an escape, or just to play along with the pretence that they were innocent travellers. Taking his sister's hand, Adi and Sanela concentrated their combined minds upon the man. Completing the action of lifting the case into the rack, the man suddenly gripped his temple as he felt a sharp stab of pain. "Excuse me," he mumbled as the headache multiplied tenfold, "I have to sit down." Swinging around, he dropped harmlessly into the nearest seat and passed out. Emina looked towards Adi and Sanela, who sat innocently at the back of the bus, then towards the driver, who was busy swearing at the other traffic and had not noticed the security officer's condition. With a gracious nod of recognition for what her grandchildren had achieved, she walked slowly towards them and took her seat. Gasping, she finally took a long-overdue breath, then clasped her hands around the children's and said a silent prayer. Debovac Airport, Tuzla : 45 minutes later. The bumpy bus-journey towards the airport seemed to take an eternity, stopping as they did to pick up three more passengers. Thankfully, no one disturbed the smartly dressed young man who appeared to be asleep in one of the seats. Walking hurriedly across the car park, Emina, Adi and Sanela quickly put thoughts of the security man behind them as they entered the busy terminal building, hoping all the time that the person sent to meet them would have waited past the 35-minute deadline given on the receipt. There were four distinct check-in desks at this small provincial airport. Above each, a neon sign announced which airlines they were responsible for, the furthest from the door being the Airtours desk. "Stay close," whispered Emina as she led the children across the open expanse of marble floor. Approaching the queue of people waiting to check in, Emina looked them up and down in turn. There was a large family with huge mounds of luggage piled high on their trolley, and an elderly couple fidgeting nervously with their respective passports as they argued about where to sit on the plane. Finally, towards the back of the queue, stood a young couple looking about them silently. The small redheaded woman was wearing a brightly coloured summer dress and had a thick dark-brown cardigan thrown around her shoulders. Such an ensemble would have looked unusual even in the summer, but in the cold chill of evening it looked very out of place. What made things worse was the obvious fact that the cardigan was three sizes too large. These two could have jaunted from anywhere in the world, thought Emina as she studied them more closely. I wonder whether the person who lent her that cardigan actually believed it would help her to blend in. The tall, slim man accompanying the redhead was dressed in a more suitable combination of polo-neck sweater and jeans. Emina found herself watching as he constantly pulled down the hem of his jumper to hide something around his waist. A jaunting belt! The thoughts rang out in her mind and she felt herself relax. She had seen identical belts worn by Tamara and Alija when they returned from one of their excursions. No one other than a true Tomorrow Person could possibly be wearing a jaunting belt, she thought, as they rushed across to greet the couple. "Hello, are you waiting for us?" asked Emina, struggling to pronounce the words in English, a language taught to her in school and often used in written correspondence, but which she had seldom spoken aloud for over ten years. The couple looked at one another but did not reply. "Are you?" Emina paused, unsure whether she could say the words aloud in such a public place. A sudden idea came to mind and she fumbled around in her coat pocket for a few seconds. Retrieving the small crumpled receipt that she had deposited there during their hasty departure from the cybercafé, she handed it to the young man, whose eyes opened wide as he read his own words. "You mean… it was you I was chatting to?" Surprised by his fluent Bosnian, Emina looked at him quizzically. "We can pick up the thoughts directly from your brain and use them to translate what you say, then use much the same process to reply," explained the woman. "My Name's Zoë, by the way." She motioned towards her companion. "And this is Steve, who runs the channel with me. We never expected to meet an old lady with two children. We didn't expect three of you." Emina felt a strange tingling sensation in her temple. Realising what Zoë was attempting to do, she shook her head at the pretty young woman. "I don't feel anything," Zoë mumbled. "You're not… then who?" Zoë's eyes widened and she jerked her gaze from Emina's face towards the children. "How can they be? They're too young." "My dear girl -" Emina spoke softly as if scolding a young child - "things are not always what they seem. May I introduce my grandchildren, Sanela and Adi." They all shook hands. Emina leaned closer to the strangers. "They are second generation and not yet broken out," she whispered. The conversation stopped dead, something Emina had witnessed on numerous occasions when Tamara and Alija exchanged private telepathic thoughts. "We didn't come equipped for this eventuality, I'm afraid," said Steve at last. "Perhaps we should all go over to the café to talk in private." The five companions had just peeled away from the rest of the check-in queue when they noticed a group of heavily armed soldiers enter the building. "That's blown it!" snapped Zoë, ushering the children ahead of her in the direction of the airport cafeteria. "This is not turning out to be a good day." Some minutes later they were all seated around a table at the back of the restaurant. While Emina discussed recent events with Steve, Adi sipped noisily on a milkshake and Sanela sat on Zoë's lap playing with the woman's curly red tresses. "We didn't think there were any second-generation TPs left in this part of Europe," apologised Steve, shuddering at how close he and Zoë had come to jaunting away from the airport and abandoning these TPs in need. "After the authorities rounded up every Tomorrow Person they could lay their hands on, we evacuated others in danger and advised yet more to go into hiding. The Bosnian Lab was attacked and destroyed over three months ago now. If our operatives there had known about your son's children, they would have been in great danger from the Sap security services. It was very lucky that he and his wife kept their existence a secret, a very cautious and wise decision indeed." Emina leaned across the table and removed Sanela's sticky fingers from Zoë's hair. "It's okay," remarked Zoë. "Let her play; I don't mind." "Very well, but we can't sit here all day while those soldiers get closer to asking for our documents." Emina nodded in the direction of the group of armed guards who were busy searching the bags of a teenager over by the news kiosk. "What exactly did you expect to find when you asked us to come here?" Steve shrugged. "A fourteen-year-old girl who's broken out and wanted our advice on what to do next." "But you just said that you could evacuate endangered TPs to a place of safety." Now it was Zoë who looked concerned. "Well…" she hesitated as a thought passed between her and Steve. "We could have advised you to jaunt to somewhere secret. That is, if you could jaunt." "The Lab," interrupted Adi excitedly. "They're gonna take us to the Lab." Zoë shook her head. "I'm sorry, but as Steve said, the Bosnian Lab was destroyed. We couldn't take you there even if we wanted, for security reasons." Emina felt her temper flaring. "Don't go preaching to me about security. You sound no better than the Saps, scared to stick your necks out and take a risk. I know you've got Labs scattered across half the world, places where other Tomorrow People live in ignorant bliss of the suffering of their own kind. With all your fancy moralizing about being the next stage of evolution - people who are more peace-loving and responsible than the Saps - you're not even willing to give refuge to two frightened children." Zoë was deeply hurt by Emina's accusations and looked close to tears as she made her reply. "I'm sorry, Emina, but that's the way it is. These days no one is allowed to jaunt anywhere unauthorised. There are too many agents about. We just can't do it." "Zoë's right," commented Steve. "We've lost a lot of people lately. Either killed by the Saps or locked up in one of those camps. We're authorised to help whoever we meet here to jaunt to a place where they wouldn't be known and could blend in, but you three can't even do that. In their current state we only have Adi and Sanela's emergent abilities to tell us that they are really TPs at all." Her anger now subsiding a little, Emina stared across the table. "All right, I can see that you aren't here to do any more than give advice, but what's stopping you from getting in touch telepathically with someone who can do more?" During their conversation the soldiers had entered the restaurant and were now walking about, demanding the presentation of documents from the customers. "And you better do it quick," added Emina. "Before our luck runs out!" They sat in silence, all eyes on the approaching soldiers, each locked in his or her private thoughts. There were just three tables now between them and their would-be captors and with each passing second Emina felt a sensation of dread spreading through her body. When the soldiers reached the adjacent table, they requested the documents from a heavy-set businessman and he grumbled to himself as he rummaged through his hand luggage. Zoë and Steve suddenly stood up and placed their hands on their respective jaunting belts. There was a momentary ringing noise and the two Tomorrow People disappeared. Witnessing two people jaunt before their very eyes had a profound effect upon the soldiers. One looked as if he were about to faint, while another expelled a shower of disgusting swear words. The oldest of the three jumped in surprise, then grabbed his gun and pointed it at Emina. "Over here!" came a shout from the other side of the concourse. "Catch us if you can." Spinning around, the soldiers saw Zoë and Steve waving mischievously in their direction. "Get them!" barked the oldest soldier. All three burst into a run, back out of the restaurant area and across the terminal building. Emina felt Sanela's hand pulling at her coat sleeve. Looking down, she was surprised to see the child smile, despite the fact that these TPs had obviously abandoned them. "Come on, Majka. It's going to be all right, " Sanela said gently. "Steve telepathed to us before they disappeared. We must go now to meet up with them at the back of the terminal building."
"Well, that took you long enough," snapped Zoë irritably, as she spotted Emina and the children approaching. "Not all of us can move quickly, you know," replied Emina sarcastically. "It's all right for you, young lady, being able to escape the authorities in the blink of an eye. Running around airports at my age is not good for my health." Zoë smiled. "Sorry, Emina. I didn't mean to be rude." She held out two matter transporters. "Here," she said, "put these on the children." Taking the black belts, with their circular, silvery attachments dangling from the side, Emina looked puzzled. Noticing her confusion, Steve retrieved them from Emina's unsteady hands and bent down to fasten one around Adi's waist. "They're matter transporter belts," he explained. "We can use them to take the kids away to a safe location: a place where the Saps can't find them. It was a difficult decision, but Zoë here was very persuasive with our superiors. She got the permission required for the transport." "But there's only two." Sanela's voice was distraught as she spoke. "We can't leave our Stara Majka behind. I won't go!" She crossed her arms stubbornly. "And neither will I," added Adi, trying to unfasten his belt. Zoë retrieved the other belt from Steve, bent down, and pulled Sanela towards her. "You don't have any choice, I'm afraid," she said, as she fastened it around the child's waist. "Your grandmother will be okay; the authorities aren't interested in her. But it's really important for you to trust us and come with us." "You're not taking my grandchildren anywhere without me," protested Emina. "I made a promise to their parents and I don't intend to fail in my duty." Zoë sighed heavily and looked up at Steve. (We don't have time for this,) she 'pathed. (Yeah, I can feel the soldiers walking around, searching the outside of the building. But I also see what the old girl means. She is their grandmother, after all.) (Steve.) Zoë's thoughts conveyed her irritation at his sentimentality regarding their mission. (You really must learn to toughen up. This is a war we're fighting here. We were given orders to bring the kids back and that's all.) (I know but…) Steve didn't get the chance to transmit anything further. Six Barlumin-wielding soldiers came running unexpectedly around the end of the terminal building, barking orders for the group of TPs to remain exactly where they were. (Out of time,) snapped Zoë, lunging forward and grabbing Sanela. Following her lead, Steve also made a grab for Adi. (Jaunt us in TIM!) Realising what was happening, Emina sprang forward as quickly as her frail body could carry her. Snatching hold of both children's outstretched hands, she felt the tension in their bodies increase as their flesh lost cohesion. One instant her grandchildren were standing directly in front of
her, the next their bodies seemed to lose substance. Around her the
air was filled with a strange static charge that ran up and down her
spine and made her hair stand on end. Power pulsed through the group
and both Zoë and Steve vanished, leaving the translucent forms
of the children dangling between reality and Hyperspace. Intense looks
of bewilderment and anguish spread across the children's faces, as TIM
tried to teleport them to safety. This sight made Emina even more determined
to hold onto her charges. Emina watched as Sanela's lips moved in slow motion, forming a silent scream of terror, which would have woken the dead if anyone could have heard it. Emina knew that the children's life force was slowly being pulled away from her, breaking the link between herself and her kin. She also knew that it was her efforts to stay with them that were causing her grandchildren so much mental and physical pain. Momentarily she considered letting go of their semi-transparent hands, then changed her mind and gripped them even tighter. With renewed determination Emina prayed for their survival. Gradually the world around her pulsed and faded to nothingness as TIM increased his input into the link. It was replaced by a myriad of colours swirling between them, over them and through them. Emina glimpsed Zoë and Steve still holding tight to the children and realised that they had been present in this moment of turmoil all along. Thankful for their presence in the link, she was relieved as she felt her body gain solidity once again. Gradually the world took on opaque form and her vision was filled with a new scene. Emina took one faltering step forward, then collapsed onto the floor.
"I am sorry, John. I needed a great deal of additional power to pull three Saps through Hyperspace. This is the only Lab equipped with that facility at present." "I know, TIM, and I'm grateful that you managed to save all of them. How much of our energy reserves did you have to use?" "It was an exceptionally difficult transport, but nothing my energy banks can't replace in the next solar cycle," responded the calm voice of the biotronic computer. John looked up at the screen once again, to see Elena enter the arrivals room, accompanied by her medical team. (How are they, Elle?) he 'pathed. (A bit singed around the edges, especially the old woman, but they'll survive.) (Good. Take them to the infirmary, but keep them under armed guard at all times.) (Is that absolutely necessary?) This question came from Stephen, who had just entered the Luna Lab's control room. (Yes, Stephen,) replied John, matter-of-factly. (I'm afraid it is!) Luna Lab: Local Time 12: 45 p.m. Elena smiled down at the old woman as she opened her eyes. "Hello, Emina, I'm Elena. How are you feeling?" She held out a large mug of hot sweet tea. "Not so bad, considering," chuckled Emina, accepting the cup and looking about her. "Where are Sanela and Adi?" Her question hardly needed a response as the two exuberant youngsters bounded up the aisle of the infirmary and jumped on the bottom of their grandmother's bed. "Majka, you are awake," cried Sanela, her face beaming. "We stayed here for as long as we could, but they sent us to find our bunks. It's so wonderful here, Majka. There's loads of Tomorrow People and lots of other children. You must come and take a look, there's so much to show you. Our bunks are in a family room on D wing halfway along the corridor on level four. We love it here Majka can we stay oh please say that we can stay." After a few minutes of Sanela's gleeful nattering, Emina knew that her young charges had finally found a place where they could live and grow in safety. That they had settled into this new life in so little time was comforting, and in some ways also disappointing. Emina had always known that Tomorrow People held a special bond with one another, but it wasn't until she witnessed the calming influence that Elena's presence had on her grandchildren that she really appreciated what this meant. Just the briefest of looks and the transmission of a subduing thought brought Sanela's inexhaustible chatter to a close. Both children then set about gathering together Emina's clothes. It was as if Sanela and Adi had instantly grown up, cutting the apron strings that had tied them to her since their parents' capture and moving them into a new phase of their lives. Did they still need her presence? she mused. Then, looking down at their smiling faces, she dismissed this idea. They were her kin and still young enough to need a grandmother's guiding hand as they moved from childhood into adolescence. "Well, well," she muttered, sipping gratefully at the warm tea. "You two seem to have the run of this place already. I hope you're not giving Elena any trouble?" Adi smiled across at his sister. "Of course not, Majka. We may not be full Tomorrow People yet, but we realise how important order is here on Luna. Hundreds of people can't live so closely together without getting on each other's nerves some of the time. But we're lucky: most of the people here are full telepaths and help us to share their feelings." Emina was just about to take a gulp of the rapidly cooling drink. Shocked by what she heard, she lowered the mug from her lips and looked at Adi in confusion. "What did you call this place?" Sanela opened her mouth to speak, but was instantly quietened by Elena. "You may find this hard to accept, Emina," began Elena calmly, "but we are currently housed within a large complex of artificial tunnels hidden beneath the surface on the dark side of the moon." She saw the look of astonishment on the old woman's face and held out a hand. As Elena touched her forehead gently, Emina felt compassion, warmth and friendship flow through her body. It had the immediate effect of relaxing her muscles and easing her apprehension at the startling news. "You and the children are quite safe here," Elena continued. "The Tomorrow People have access to resources more advanced than the Saps'. We've commandeered an abandoned military base set up in the late seventies by an alien race. The Saps know about it, but they've no idea that we've built a huge underground complex beneath it. Being on the far side of the Earth's moon means that even if they did suspect our presence here, they could never make a military strike with their missile systems. And if they try to approach us in a shuttle, we've orbiting Watchdog satellites that can warn us in an instant. We've enough knowledge, experience and advanced equipment to house up to two thousand people in relative comfort for the immediate future. There's almost that many living here already. So you see," she smiled broadly, "everything's being taken care of. We're quite safe." Emina held out her half-empty cup and was amused when it lifted free from her grasp, then floated under Elena's telekinetic guidance across the aisle and into a trolley. "Yes, my dear," Emina replied, smiling. "I can see that you have things quite under control. Why did you feel it necessary to bring your people all the way to the moon?" Elena's eyes glazed over as she recalled the horrendous few days immediately following the Saps' co-ordinated raids on Labs worldwide. Days when they learned of the loss of so many friends and colleagues, as well as the diabolical realisation that thousands of TPs were being held prisoner in the camps. "It wasn't an easy decision," she said at last. "The hostility towards us throughout the world has grown intolerable. Our leaders know it's only a matter of time before we're strong enough in number to take over, but they also realise that to remain close to our enemy is simply too dangerous. Too many of us are young, Emina. Some have babies of their own who, like Sanela and Adi, are destined to break out in the future and until then remain highly vulnerable to Sap capture. To take refuge here was the most logical decision to make and they felt it was for the best." "Who are these leaders?" Asked Emina. "Why have I never heard about them?" "You son was Alija Reganovic?" Emina nodded in response to Elena's unexpected question. "I looked him up while you were resting. His breakout and wedding to another TP was recorded by us just over eight years ago." Emina nodded once again. "But apart from that we'd no data on him, Sanela or Adi, until TIM accessed the children's birth records on your arrival. I can only suggest that he had very little contact with the Bosnian Lab and other Bosnian TPs. If that were the case, it seems likely that he never heard much about what was going on in the rest of the world." Realising that she was beginning to ramble, Elena pulled her train of thought away from the horrors she had learned of the Bosnian camp, and back to the question at hand. "Our leader, since the earliest days, is John. He, along with Elizabeth, Stephen, Mike, Tyso, Andrew, Paul and myself, has been responsible for most of the major decisions involving the TPs for the past forty years. Of course, we have new leaders rising through our ranks now, but we never question the impeccable judgement of John." "I would like to meet this man," said Emina matter-of-factly. "To be personally responsible for so many lives must require some extraordinary qualities." She paused and Elena noted a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "The way you describe him, he almost sounds like a god!" Choosing to ignore Emina's very obvious dig at John, Elena continued with her explanation about Luna. "This base was designed as a temporary shelter for our people until the problems on Earth die down. You might find it a little claustrophobic at first and it will become more crowded too in the next few weeks, but everyone here is working towards a day when we are accepted for what we are and can return triumphantly to our own homes. Until then, we live, work and socialise here as one community. Sanela and Adi have settled in very quickly and I hope you can do the same." Emina looked down at her hands; there was a strange tingling sensation in the fingers that spread rapidly up her arms. Looking up at Elena, her eyes asked the silent question. "We are also more advanced in our medical care," explained Elena, her earlier annoyance at Emina's cynicism replaced by the need to move this conversation forward. "I've kept you sedated for just over ten hours while I carried out some repairs to your body. You'll find it a lot less painful to walk, now that I've rejuvenated your hip joints. The hearing in your left ear should also be much better." "I - I," Emina swallowed hard. "I don't know what to say. All this is a little too much to take in at once." She smiled. "Whatever you've done, young lady, I'm grateful. Not just for this healing which you say you have given me, but for allowing us all to seek refuge on this moon base of yours. I pray that myself and the children will not be a burden." Now it was Elena who smiled broadly. "It is a pleasure to help any Tomorrow Person in need, especially such gentle and empathic children as Sanela and Adi. Your family must be very proud of them." At the mention of her family, Emina sighed heavily. "If only they were here. Alija and Tamara were taken away many months ago. I've almost given up hope of seeing them for many years to come." "Don't worry. We have ways and means." Elena smiled cryptically. "But that will have to wait until you have fully acclimatised to life here on the moon. Now that your healing is complete you are free to leave the infirmary and look around for yourself." "All right," said Emina, swinging her feet onto the strangely warm metal floor, "it's time I learnt more about this Luna Lab." She turned towards the children. "Are you ready to give me a guided tour?" The children hardly needed encouragement; they enthusiastically led the way up the aisle of the infirmary and out into the corridor. As they walked on, past rooms full of strange equipment, past common areas filled with potted plants and comfortable sofas and buzzing with the excitement of their many inhabitants, through long sweeping hallways, their walls covered with children's drawings of Earth, Emina finally understood. This was much more than a place for the Tomorrow People to hide, much more than one man's whimsical dream of what a moon base could be. This was a sanctuary for the dispossessed people of Earth. But more than that - it was a home.
"What did you learn today?" Emina would ask, as they ran towards her along the corridor. "We were practicing our TK," Adi would reply, "in preparation for when we break out proper." "We didn't learn that sort of thing in my day. Didn't you do anything useful?" Typically, the children would smile a knowing smile to one another and sigh heavily. "Of course, Majka," Sanela would cry. "We've been learning to calculate hyperspatial trajectories. It's so easy! You just write down the metric and figure out the non-Cartesian geometric distortion - you know! Adi's also studying biomechanics and I'm doing a project on species differentiation in the Galapagos Islands. But nothing is as fun as practicing our TK." Eventually Emina stopped asking about their schoolwork, surmising that Alija had been right when he'd told her about a Tomorrow Person's superior intelligence. As the weeks progressed the gulf between their new life and life back on the farm in Spionica widened and Emina began to wonder how much further still her grandchildren would advance once they reached their breakout. Would they ever be able to readjust to a rural life working on a farm? Would they really want to go back after experiencing all of this? That was something Emina would worry about when the time came; for now at least they seemed happy to be here in Luna Lab.
She also noticed that the Lab was becoming more crowded by the day. At first there were weekly announcements welcoming newcomers and keeping everyone informed of the successful struggle against the Sap authorities. These messages, broadcast by a soft but authoritative voice, that she was reliably informed was a talking computer, were greeted with whoops of joy and rounds of applause. But it was no time before the transmissions became daily, and then almost hourly, until they became so intrusive on daily life that it became totally impracticable to continue them. Three months after their arrival, the announcements stopped altogether. As their quarters became more and more crowded, she found herself sharing with four other families, each jockeying for space to store their limited belongings. Despite being issued with pull-round curtains, somewhat like those in a hospital ward, they were all affected by the increasing lack of privacy. In due course the refugees began to spill out into corridors in search of more space. Eventually they occupied equipment storage compartments and engineering bays. It wasn't long before Luna was bursting at the seams and the once harmonious atmosphere started to turn into a simmering cauldron of imminent trouble. Out for her daily ramble through the overcrowded levels, Emina came upon a stack of crates. Curiosity got the better of her and, looking around furtively, she peered inside the nearest containers. The wooden boxes were filled with tinned foodstuffs, bottled water and what looked like army field rations. Surprised by her discovery, she struggled to open the crate wider to inspect the goods inside. "What are you doing?" came an imposing voice from out of nowhere. "This is a restricted area. You are not authorised to touch that equipment." Emina flinched, dropped the heavy wooden lid and looked around her. "Who's there?" she asked, indignant at the stranger's tone. "I am TIM, The Tomorrow People's biotronic computer, and I monitor all activity on Luna. You are Emina Reganovic, are you not?" Emina was angered to know that they were monitored so closely. "What gives you the right to spy on us?" she snapped. "It is my function," TIM replied flatly. "And it is not only you that I keep watch over. It is my job to protect all Tomorrow People." His tone softened slightly and Emina relaxed a little. "But you have to admit," he added. "You are the only Sap we have ever allowed access to this base. And that makes you a security risk." "Oh!" she turned around, looking for the source of the voice. "You know as well as I do that as a Sap I am incapable of leaving the moon. What sort of a security risk could I possibly be to a group of super-beings?" she added somewhat sarcastically. "What you say is correct, but nevertheless, I am obliged to monitor you. Your grandchildren are clearly second generation, but if Alija and Tamara were taken several years ago, they could have easily been brainwashed into helping the enemy. We've put ourselves in vulnerable situations like this before, and learnt to our cost the lesson that no one can be trusted absolutely." Emina shrugged, setting the sore point aside with her other grievances until the time when she finally met the leaders of this place. She pointed down at the crates she had just inspected. "You called this equipment. It's funny looking equipment to me." "Have you not wondered, Emina, where our food supplies come from? It takes a great deal of energy to provide the daily nutritional requirements of three thousand people." "Three thousand!" Emina was stunned. "But Elena told me when I arrived that Luna Lab was designed to hold two thousand." "Indeed it was, but we cannot turn away refugees in trouble. We have to find somewhere to house them. As the population here on Luna has increased, so have their energy demands. I can only replenish my energy banks every four weeks and therefore the food-processing plant is under increasing strain. It was a prudent move by our leaders to lay in emergency rations for leaner times. " "And I suppose this grand scheme was thought up by the illustrious John?" "Yes, it was. He and Abigail are aware that our resources are finite. They had to make contingency plans." "Oh!" Emina exclaimed once again. "You may be able to cope once the food runs out, but what about the air? You can't go on filling this place with lost souls indefinitely; eventually there won't be enough air for us all to breathe." "That is an eventuality that we do not have to face, just yet," replied TIM, eager to steer Emina away from such dangerous talk that could be easily overheard. He knew full well that the oxygenation plant was already working at 110 % and could fail any day. If word of this got out amongst the people of Luna it could be disastrous. "John and Abigail have everything in hand. There is nothing for you to worry about. May I suggest that you visit level two; the children there are about to present a play and you might find it more interesting than wandering around here by yourself." Emina had lived for many years in a war-torn country under siege from an invading army, and recognised when those in authority were trying to evade difficult questions. It's probably sensible to keep my ideas to myself, for the time being at least, she thought. Still, I would not wish to cause any trouble for these people - they have taken me in and saved the lives of my grandchildren. There was the usual musical sound of someone jaunting close by, and an attractive fair-haired man in his late thirties appeared before her. He was tall and slim, and she noted with dismay that he wore some kind of weapon attached to his jaunting belt. "Hello, Emina, " said Paul cheerfully, holding out a matter transporter belt. "Would you like me to escort you up to level two to see the kids' play?" Emina smiled wryly and nodded. "Do I need an escort? Are you some kind of policeman sent by this John character to get me out of the way?" There was a flash of concern across the young man's face, which he unsuccessfully tried to hide. "My name's Paul. Yes, I am a member of the TP security force, but I'm not here to arrest you, just to help you get up to that level quickly so you don't miss the start of the play." Emina smiled broadly and took the matter transporter belt from him. Struggling to fasten it around her ample waist and bulky clothing, she eventually gave up and tossed it over her shoulder. "Son," she said jovially, "you are a terrible liar, but I'll be glad to save my old woman's legs the long trek up the stairwell." Paul grinned at Emina. She was a wily old fox, if ever he'd met one. He'd have to warn his security team, if they came across her again, not to judge by her aged appearance and to treat her with care and respect. "Very well then…" He touched his own belt and they disappeared.
Arriving in the late afternoon, she was met by a scene of chaos outside one of the shower blocks. Earlier that same day an official announcement had been made regarding the regulation of the precious water supply, reducing access to bathing facilities to just three specific hours of the day. A TP scout, who she later learned had recently returned from an Earth mission, was insisting that due to the nature of his work he should be given priority over one of the local families. Emerging from the stairwell, Emina was met by a wall of angry silence.
There was a crowd of TPs standing rigidly blocking the corridor, scowling
at one another, a clear indication that a furious telepathic argument
was in progress. She took a few steps closer and released the door behind
her, allowing it to bang shut noisily. Those present turned to stare
menacingly in her direction, and one of the TPs took advantage of the
distraction. Using TK, he removed someone else's towel from the floor
outside the bathroom, where it had been deposited at the start of the
altercation. Emina could see a small huddle of children further along the corridor. As their parents' behaviour exploded into anxiety-driven aggression they hung back open-mouthed, watching the scene with horrified fascination, not wanting to believe the evidence of their own eyes. Pulling herself up to her full five feet in height, Emina took a deep breath and bellowed at the crowd. "Stop this at once!" The strangers, shocked by the sudden vocal order, looked around at the frail old woman. "What do you think you are doing?" continued Emina. "This is no way to behave in front of your children. You should be ashamed of yourselves for acting so immaturely." "What's this got to do with you," came an accusing female voice from the back of the mob. "You're a Sap!" A murmur went around the room, echoing off the metallic walls and grating at Emina's nerves. "Yes, I am a Sap. And I'm stuck here as much as the rest of you, possibly more so. I cannot jaunt back to see my kin every few months or visit the forests and hills of my home to breathe the sweet scent of fresh, clean air. I am an exile here and I'm not even one of your kind. But I am prepared to live peacefully in this predicament, even if I have to die here on the moon." Another murmur spread around the group, conveying their own deep anxieties. "I thought you Tomorrow People were meant to be non-violent and that, by linking with one another's minds, you could empathise with each other's feelings," continued Emina. "From the behaviour I see here today, none of you deserve to be called the next stage of evolution. Heaven help the planet Earth if the likes of you are to take over and rule. You're hypocrites, the lot of you!" As she finished her rant, the mob took a silent step forward, each individual outraged by her accusations. Then, as her words filtered through to the logical parts of their minds, they started to look at one another sheepishly. There was a buzz of telepathic apology in the air, something that Emina could almost feel herself. Then, with a unanimous nod of agreement, their previous anger was suddenly gone. "That's better," she said more calmly. "Now, may I suggest that you draw up a roster for this level, with rules and guidelines on how to deal with newcomers and those who have been off Luna on important TP business?" There was a loud cough from behind her and Emina swung around to see Paul and three other security officers replacing stun guns into their holsters. "I'd take the old gal's advice if I were you," he said firmly. "The water's gonna be switched off in half an hour and then none of you will get a wash today." Five minutes later the mob had dispersed and Emina found herself alone with Paul and his team. "It was very nice of you to come to my rescue," she nodded at him politely, and he noted the sarcasm in her eyes. "But I was handling things very well on my own. I'm a bit too long in the tooth to be needing a knight in shining armour rushing to my rescue every time there's a little trouble." "Emina Reganovic," began Paul, shaking his head good-humouredly, "whatever gave you the idea that we jaunted down here to rescue you?" Emina feigned surprise and started to walk away from him along the corridor. "Oh, good," she said, stopping five metres ahead and looking back over her shoulder. "TIM must have stopped his surveillance of me then. Perhaps you senior TPs can find something more important to worry about than whether one aged lady is really some sort of Sap spy." With that parting shot she winked and trotted on up the corridor, leaving a stunned Paul to exchange amused telepathic remarks with his team.
The next day Emina was summoned to the command centre. Happy at last to be meeting the famous John, she was rather disappointed to be greeted instead by a charming Canadian lady, who introduced herself as Abigail Rollinde from Toronto. A politician if ever I met one, remarked Emina to herself, noting how subtly Abigail was able to steer their conversation away from difficult questions. After a few minutes of pleasantries, Abby understood why Paul had warned her not to underestimate the mental skills of this Bosnian veteran. Emina's manner was pleasant enough, but she didn't suffer fools gladly and, despite Abby's best intentions to keep their first meeting on safe ground, she was repeatedly cornered into revealing more and more about the TP situation. "Look, young lady," said Emina, frustrated by having wasted over ten minutes on superficial banter, "I know that you've called me here for some reason, so why don't you just get to it? I'm sure you've a thousand and one tasks that need your immediate attention." Abby nodded slowly and smiled down at the woman. "You're right," she chuckled. "I asked you here because of what you said to those people yesterday." Her face suddenly looked very earnest. "Do you really think that you'll never see your home again?" Taking a deep breath, Emina stared into Abby's eyes for a few seconds before making her reply. "Thank you, my dear. Thank you for treating me with kindness and understanding, and for acknowledging what we both know for certain. This war with the Saps isn't going to be over in my lifetime; perhaps it won't be resolved in yours either. None of us have the freedoms we used to have. Despite your jaunting ability, you must realise that the TPs have lost their homeworld to a hostile force. It may only be a temporary setback, but you are no different from me - exiled from your birthright, out of touch with loved ones and desperately hoping that it will work out all right in the end." Abby took a few teetering steps backwards and grabbed hold of a chair to steady herself. Thoughts of Marc and his fellow captives broke through her mental shields and flooded her mind. Would she ever see them again? Was the rest of her life to be spent here on the moon, while he - and all her other friends in the Canadian Camp - deteriorated at the hands of the Saps? Suddenly aware that a comforting arm was lowering her onto the couch, she looked up with tears in her eyes. "Tell me about it, my dear," urged Emina compassionately. "And after that I'll answer your question." Abby spoke quietly, almost as if talking to herself, before meeting Emina's eyes. "Hundreds of my friends are in the Camp," she muttered. "Yes, I'll tell you." It took almost an hour for Abigail to recount the story of her flight from the Canadian Lab, how her good friend Kershia had rescued her, and how she had become the invaluable administrator on Luna. "At least I have one small consolation," she commented. "I can use the remotes to check on Marc and the others and make sure that they're still alive." "Pardon my ignorance, but what is a remote?" asked Emina. "It's a pin-sized camera, equipped with a hybrid of the magnetic suspension grid used in our AE suits. It can hover above the camps, totally undetected by the Saps. Its miniaturised circuitry allows it to transmit over vast distances and we can pick up those transmissions on the Watchdog satellites, and then relay them to any Lab in the world, or here to Luna." "You mean, you can spy on what the Saps are doing to your people?" Emina asked. "You can see live pictures of the people in the camps?" Abby nodded. "Yes…" She stopped mid-sentence and jumped to her feet. "TIM," she ordered. "Give me a visual on the Bosnian camp right away." "Very well, Abigail," came his unruffled reply. "Give me a minute to launch a remote from the nearest European Lab." The two women sat clutching each other's hands as they waited for the images to appear on TIM's screen. Two strangers linked by the incredible longing to see their nearest and dearest once again. Abby's need was that of love, unspoken and unfulfilled, yet still burning |