BOOK 2: COMMUNITY / CH. 29:MISSING PERSON

MONDAY, 14TH AUGUST

Hagar looked at the note from Maria again. “If you have a spare moment, please could you talk to Karen about a girl called Liz? They hinted that she was in trouble, but couldn't talk freely.”

Well, she had a moment now. [Karen, what's this about someone called Liz?]

[Apparently my evil uncle has a daughter. Since my uncle claimed he was being blackmailed, George checked on her. She was in Ibrahim's country house.]

[Another stolen one?]

[Maybe, we don't know, but it's possible. Maybe she's just visiting, but according to Tasha, the woman who did know about her, her father's been pretending to her that he's an innocent man. I can't imagine that he'd introduce her to a crook like Ibrahim.]

[So what shall I do?]

[I guess tell my mother what I've told you, please. Do you think we could check to see if she's there willingly?]

[You mean look to see if there are captives in his house?]

[I guess I do. The problem is I'm not very sure where his house is. George found her and recognized it somehow.]

[I'll do it, Karen. I know where it is.]

[You don't mind?]

[No.]

[Thank you. Oh, about her name. It was a bit of a guess. Tasha thought it was Liz, but that could be short for several names, and I'm not sure she's had time to check yet.]

[That's OK. I'll tell you and your mother what I find out.]

[Thank you, Hagar.]

[Just don't let your mother pay me for this.]

[Make her promise before you tell her.]

[Ahh, the shrewd voice of experience! I will!]

----------------------------------------

Hagar looked for prisoners at Ibrahim's house. She found none. She looked for foreign guests. She found none. She checked where Liz was. She wasn't at Ibrahim's house. She was driving away, quickly. She checked on Liz's skin. {Fear of capture. Prayer. Determination. Hope.} She checked for pursuers. There were two men on motorbikes, just leaving in opposite directions. At least they didn't know which way Liz had gone. Maria had given Hagar a special code just in case of an emergency. This seemed to fit the bill. She used it. “Hello, my friend, can it wait twenty minutes?”

“It depends. I don't think so.”

“OK. You talk, I'm with someone and can't answer.”

“I've just checked on Liz. George found her at Ibrahim's house. I was going to see if she was being held prisoner there, or if she was a guest. She's escaped, driving a car, I'd guess ten minutes ago. There's two men on motorcycles just leaving, looking for her. One is going in totally the wrong direction, the other is on her trail.”

“Yes, that is an interesting development. Could you please tell your friend who came to Karen's party? Perhaps her cousin can help you with that.”

“I should talk to Deborah and ask for the president's help? He knows nothing of my gifts.”

“You might be surprised. I'll be in contact with him about arrangements soon. Bye now.”

Hagar thought to Deborah. [Deborah, it is Hagar. Do you have a wrist unit yet?]

[Hagar! Yes, yes, I do, five minutes ago I bought one.]

[Ah, so you are not at the palace now?]

[Not yet. I am returning.]

[Then it might work. It would not be unusual to use your unit and tell your friends, I think. I need to talk to you in a relatively normal manner.]

[Oh, yes, I can do that. What's your number?]

Hagar gave it and Deborah duly dialled it.

“Hello Hagar! This is my new wrist unit. Yours will remember my number?”

“Yes, but I must talk to you. My employer — well, possibly his wife — will soon talk to yours, but is in some kind of meeting. If you could warn him, it might help. I contact you at her request.”

“What is it?”

“It is complicated, but there is a woman from their country, she has been held prisoner at Ibrahim's house and is just now escaping. I know this by my gift.”

“She was not found the other night?”

“I was looking for the disappeared ones of whom there were so many rumours. I think she was a more normal hostage. It never occurred to me to look for any other people Ibrahim held prisoner.”

“But she has escaped?”

“Yes. And if Ibrahim had told her that he was in charge of half the police, who would she run to?”

“No one. She would try to avoid them too.”

“There is one man chasing her by motorbike. She has taken a car from the house.”

“So he could accuse her of theft, and she has every reason to avoid the police, and no knowledge of the language to ask for help. Poor woman.”

“Yes. I do not know if the car has a navigation computer, or perhaps she even got hold of her own wrist unit, but she is coming this way, to the city. But I expect she does not drive well.”

“But here she will hope to avoid police and find someone she can talk to.”

“I do not know, but I think that if she found some soldiers from home in UN uniform, this would make her very happy. But I expect they could not be deployed without the president's permission.”

“And the man on the motorbike should be arrested.”

“Yes.”

“And somehow I must tell the president this and gain his permission, without telling him of your gift?”

“If you must, then you must. You could tell him that the information comes from the one who told about the stolen ones.”

“And did I hear you right, that it was not an informant but it was you, my friend?”

“Yes. Didn't you know?”

“No. Karen talked of her gift and she said you had plans and I knew you were not at home that night, but I did not make the connection. You have a powerful gift.”

“A dangerous temptation.”

“Yes. I see that. Hagar, could you know if she has her wrist unit, if there is some way to contact her?”

“Yes, but how to find her number?”

“Surely she has been declared missing?”

“I think she will not have been. I suspect her father was avoiding the police, but I will ask my employer.”

“I am almost at the palace. I will speak to the president.”

“On behalf of my employer, I thank you.”

----------------------------------------

“My friend, I think you have been warned of what I wish to ask. We have a citizen from our country, who has escaped from being Ibrahim's hostage, and has every reason to avoid the police, I believe. Could we deploy soldiers to meet and protect her?”

“I have indeed heard. It is a shame that your informant could not tell her where to go and how to get there. And I am surprised at the accuracy of their information in some aspects, but not in others.”

“Oh?”

“Knowing which way the woman is driving and where motorcycles were going, but no description of her or the riders? Not knowing if the woman had any means of communication or navigation with her? I take it your informant is not a member of staff at Ibrahim's house then?”

“No. We have no spies there, my friend.”

“So, I can happily arrest everyone there without causing embarrassment. That is good. I do not like it when my country is used to hold hostages. A unit of my soldiers is going to Ibrahim's house now. Somehow I hope there will be resistance. By all means send some soldiers to meet her. But how do you get such accurate but patchy knowledge? It is too selective.”

“Just enough to accomplish the goals?”

“Yes. Someone knows more than they should, and less than is reasonable. Or knows much and tells little.”

“I think they can find out much, but concentrate on the most relevant.”

“Like where the van is which carries Ibrahim?”

“Yes, my friend.”

“It sounds like your stories of magic and witchcraft.”

“Yes, it does. But I assure you I would not consult with such. Though of course a truth-sayer is not a witch, despite what some might claim.”

“You say that a truth-sayer has told you this? The knowledge is too much for a truth-sayer.”

“I believe that what you say is true. But I think you should ask Deborah about this, if she can be called on.”

“She is here. Deborah, what is it that my friend will not tell me?”

“There are truth-sayers who can know more. They have a gift from God, and are not so limited as I.” Deborah said, simply.

“Not so limited? In what way are they not limited?” the president persisted.

“Honoured cousin and friend of my father, I think that I know more than I can say without permission. I think I can share that they do not need touch, and can truly know truth from lie. Also they can find people.”

“You know such a truth-sayer who can search out the lost?”

“I do. One has spoken to my mind and heard my thoughts as though I was touching them, when they were far from me.” She dropped her head and prayed silently, [Father God, what more can I say? I do not want to expose what should be hidden, nor to hide what should be shared.]

“And such a one helped you to find the disappeared ones, is that not true, my friend?”

“I think that what happened would be hard to explain without such aid,” Karen's father acknowledged.

[Deborah, Is there a problem?] It was Karen.

[Karen, you heard my prayer?]

[No, but for some reason I thought I should check on you and felt your distress.]

[Can you read my memory from where you are? {memory}]

[Ah, yes. It seems God has answered your prayer. You may share that one listens to your thoughts now, if that is your desire.]

“Honoured cousin. I prayed that I would know what I can share and what I should hide. God answered my prayer, in that one I know and trust now listens to my thoughts. If you would know more, perhaps they will answer.”

“And this miraculous person is near?”

[Let's just say, more than a week's journey by camel.] Karen said, then added, [I think.] Deborah smiled, “The answer is ‘more than a week's journey by camel, I think,’ my cousin.”

“Ah. Depending on the camel, this could be a long way. But you know this person?”

“Yes. They have talked to me face to face, but now are not here.”

“And you do not want to tell me enough to identify them?”

[Tell him that I do not believe he would want to see me in danger. But if he needs to know then I think the added danger is small.] Deborah tried to work out how to say this without giving away whether Karen was male or female. [Oh, let him know I'm female, Deborah. It's still half the population of the world.]

“The answer is that she does not believe you would want to cause her danger, but if you need to know then she thinks the danger is small.”

“I know her?”

[Does he insist on knowing?]

“Honoured cousin, do you insist on knowing whose voice I hear?”

“No, Deborah. I do not think I need to know. I was just surprised. Perhaps I know of her rather then know her.”

[It's going to nag at him, isn't it?]

[Probably.]

[Oh well. You have my permission to tell him sometime.]

“May I ask instead, how much she knows?”

[I can count to a hundred in six languages {smile}.]

“I think you need to ask a more specific question, honoured cousin. She says she can count to a hundred in six languages.”

“Does she know how many soldiers are in my palace?”

[I can check if he wants to know, but if it's more than a hundred I'll lose count. Otherwise I could pick the number from his head if he thinks about it.]

“She says she can check if you wish to know, but she might lose count if it's more than a hundred. Alternatively she could listen to your thoughts and get the number from there.”

“Ah! Interesting. And can she tell me what my young friend the president of Egypt is doing?”

[I could, but I'd rather not spy on people. I'll look no more than I need to to see how he is feeling.]

“She does not like to spy on people, and will look no more than to see how he is feeling.”

[Oh. {embarrassment}. He's very much in love with his wife.] Karen thought.

Deborah blushed as she imagined Karen was doing also. The president looked at her curiously. “You are embarrassed? Ah. His marriage was last week, was it not?”

“Yes, my cousin, so I read. He is currently in love with his wife. I do not

suggest you call him to check.” she thought, [Sorry, Karen, I forgot.] [Me too.]

“I owe both an apology. I should have thought of that. I understand that you must look, and then you know. One last question if I may. Can you know what someone intends, or who would intend to do something?”

[I'm not sure I would want to. People might intend to do something in the heat of the moment, then later on disown that thought. Freedom of thought shouldn't be tampered with.]

“She says that intentions are not constant, and freedom of thought shouldn't be tampered with. She would prefer not to look.”

“But the woman who is in trouble, she can know her intentions? Know where she is going?”

[Yes and no. I can know people in an area who match a criteria, like people

trying to catch her. I can know her thoughts as she thinks them, that's easy. I

suppose I could check different criteria and see which one she matches... but I can't think why I would want to do it that way ever. No, don't mention that, it's too confusing, just stick to knowing thoughts as they happen.]

“Unthought intentions, what I call ‘the hidden because’, are hard to discern, my honourable cousin. Just as I can sense thoughts as they occur, when I touch someone, she can sense them from afar, and probably deeper than I. But she cannot know the hidden reasons.”

[Depends how close I am, Deborah. If you were in the same room as me, I could know motives you don't even know you have. But only if you asked me to look.]

“Ah, I am sorry, I over-generalised. She says that if she and I were in the same room, and I asked her to look, then she could know even motives that were unknown to me.”

“And if I wish to know who this woman is?”

“Then, friend of my father, I myself would ask you to tell me why.”

“Then we are at an impasse, for my motivation is hidden from me and

only one such as she can find out why I want to know.” Then after a pause he added, “It would be nice to know why.”

[I don't know if it's a good idea, but I'm willing to have a look if he's serious. We're probably too far apart, but I have an idea how it might work.]

“Honoured cousin, if you genuinely want to know why, then she says she can try to see what your hidden thoughts are. She says she has an idea which might work.”

“Normally she would need to be in the same room, but she has an idea of how she might read my deep thoughts from so far away?”

[To know every thought, I'd need to be within about a hundred metres, I think. Never really been tested. Surface thoughts are worldwide, possibly further. As for what he's wondering, I don't know how deep those thoughts are. Probably somewhere in between, so maybe. I'll try first on my own. My silly thought is that at the moment I think I can link my mind pretty closely with yours, Deborah, and I wonder if us somehow combining efforts might work the impossible. Urm. I hope it won't be dangerous to you.]

[Danger?] Deborah, interested in the idea of linking minds, hadn't thought of that.

[When I look deeply at someone it takes a lot of brain-work to understand what I'm seeing. If I over-exert myself: look too deeply, or too long, then I can overheat my brain. If it were possible somehow for you to channel that information to me, then I don't know what would happen to you. So, thinking about it, I think it's not worth the risk to you, plus I'm not sure it would help either. I need to talk to the others about my idea.]

“My cousin, she says that the limit for knowing every thought at every level is something like a hundred metres, but that she can know surface thoughts anywhere. She guesses that your motivations are not surface, but not very deep either. She will not try out her other idea, she thinks it could be too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous to her?”

“No. She understands the risks to herself. But her idea involved me and she did not know how much risk I would be in.”

“No, you must not be risked. If she is willing, I am willing that she try to see why I want to know who she is.”

Karen focussed on the president himself. As expected she got nothing, it was too far. Quite why distance mattered for this gift of God was something she sometimes wondered about. Rather than aiming at his inmost being, she tried to think what might be half-way between his skin and his soul. Maybe his heart?

Worth a go. She focussed, and she saw. Oh. It was obvious. His treasured cousin/surrogate-daughter, the hope of his nation if only the nation knew it, was consorting with people of strange powers. Were they trustworthy? Whose best interests would they seek? Was Deborah in danger from this?

[Deborah, please relay this exactly: ‘Your motives are good and your curiosity is wise...]

“Friend of my father. She asks that I tell you this: ‘Your motives are good and your curiosity is wise.”

['...Your beard is safe from me, as is your hope.']

[That makes no sense!]

[It will to him, Deborah. Now don't argue. I'm not going to tell you what I saw.]

“'Your beard is safe from me, as is your hope.’ She tells me that she's not going to tell me what else she saw.”

“Ah, then she is wise, most wise. Thank your friend Karen for me, and wish her a safe flight.”

“She heard, but I don't understand. How did you know it was her?”

“Ah, Deborah. She was once a little girl who climbed into my lap demanding a song, and then told me that my beard was funny and I should cut it off.”

Deborah was shocked. “Had she no sense of propriety?”

“At age four? No. She didn't. But she's learned some now.”

----------------------------------------

George had been dozing, but as Karen returned her concentration to the present, she saw that he'd woken up. [Did you hear my silly idea, George?]

[No, I've been asleep. Were you talking to someone?]

[Deborah. Daddy put her on the spot to explain about the gift to the president and she didn't know what to say.]

[That wasn't very nice of him.]

[I think he'd decided that the president needed to know if he didn't already, and I'm not really sure he'd know what to say and what not to either.]

[Ah. So handing over to Deborah was a good way of getting you into the loop?]

[Well, it would have been if he'd sent me a message, but he didn't. Instead Deborah prayed and I had this feeling I should check on her.]

[Ah.]

[It worked out well, I think. The president was worried about who Deborah might be mentally consorting with, and once he knew it was me, he was reassured. I think it was also reassuring for him that I didn't gabble to Deborah all he feels about her. She's basically a surrogate daughter in his mind, and he's quite sure that she's going to be the best ruler that the country will have in its history.]

[And is she?]

[I hope so, but it'll be very difficult for some people to accept her.]

[Unrest difficult?]

[Possibly. It'll help that she'll be married, I expect. Those who want to think of her as merely a figurehead for her husband's policy can do so. But her being a Christian is not going to win favours from the traditionalist Moslem elements. There are two other claimants, after all.]

[Such as Ibrahim? But there's another?]

[Yes. He's not exactly well blessed in the intellectual department.] [So she's certainly the best candidate.]

[Oh yes. If you need to pick a relative, she's the best. Of course constitutionally they don't have to choose a relative here, but it's so expected that it's almost unthinkable to consider anyone else. I wonder if Deborah will suggest it.]

[As a uniting factor?]

[Yes. I might even suggest it to her.]

[One last ‘free and fair’ election?]

[Maybe.]

[Could be tricky.]

[That's why we gave up on it. You don't get really free and fair elections once opinionated mass media is involved in the election campaign. Opinions can be formed by the tone things are presented in, little words here and there can convey a sense of disapproval in the most apparently neutral article. Then there's the question of selective reporting and reinforcing stereotypes, before you even get to outright distortions, bribes and the like.]

[So how would you do it?]

[I think I'd try to find someone who is perfectly happy in their present job, in the public eye, who's recognised as wise and able with a strong sense of civic duty. Give them a civic award and then tell the poor guy that their name is on the ballot paper.]

[Isn't that how we got our monarchy restored?]

[Yes. It seems to have worked.]

[And how does this help get Deborah to power?]

[Well, maybe it gets her out of power, which might suit her quite well. It gives people a far better alternative avenue to express dissatisfaction than by supporting one of the unsuitable relations. But also, she suggests it and champions the process, thus demonstrating her love for her country. People see she's not scared of risks or confrontation. And of course the president is glowing with pride at her intelligence, humility, sense of duty, etc.]

[Go on then, suggest it to her.]

[I will. Are you going to listen in?]

[Yes. I wonder if we can do the sending our ears thing, rather than listening to her every thought. Make sure she's not drinking anything before you tell her about the idea though.]

[Deborah, are you able to talk? I'd also like to try something.]

[Yes. What's your experiment?]

Karen explained about her and George being able to listen to thoughts sent to a space, and wondered if Deborah would be able to “send” or offer thoughts in much the same way that thought images or memories could be sent. It did work, partially. Deborah could think ‘loudly’ and listen, easily enough, but sending thoughts seemed to take far more concentration. [I don't think it's worth it. If you can both listen to my unspoken words, I'd much rather save my mental energy for this whole pile of reports I have to read {image} — part of my training for the job my cousin has chosen for me.

[Interesting! George and I were just thinking about how you'd be able to keep that job.]

[On the assumption that getting it is just a case of him signing a decree, then there's always the chance of people saying it's a violation of tradition or something, and that could give rise to problems,] George added.

[Problems? I think that it'll be the Troubles all over again if I take over before people get used to the idea,] Deborah admitted. [I know I'm a far better person for the job than anyone else in the family, but still...]

[I had an idea. Feel free to ignore it if it won't work.] She outlined her idea and where it had come from.

[So, rather than start with a declaration of monarchy, we start with elections and tell people that they'll be choosing someone to be monarch?] Deborah asked.

[Yes. But not the type of elections where it ends up a case of buying the votes with enough advertising. The election should be between two people who'd do the job well. You and someone else you'd be happy to see as monarch instead of you.]

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

[To be honest, I'm not sure I want the job. I do think I could do it well, but until the president declared me his heir, my highest ambition was marriage, motherhood and raising my children well.]

[That's an excellent qualification in my book,] George said. [Try to find someone else who's equally happy to see it as a duty to be done.]

[I had the feeling you might say that.]

[Deborah,] George added, [I'm not familiar with your culture, but is bribery and corruption of officials a problem?]

[A problem? It's a problem for the poor or the honest. The poor because they cannot bribe and the honest because they will not.]

[So would those who see taking and receiving bribes as part of life respect those who did not?]

[I'm not the best one to ask, George. I've never knowingly bribed anyone or been offered a bribe. I've paid for things an amount which on reflection seemed too much, or there were times when I did not get a receipt. I think those who give bribes see paying them as a necessary evil. Why do you ask?]

[I was wondering if the question of attitude to bribery should be part of the selection.]

[Ah. Yes, that and a number of other issues.]

Karen asked a critical question. [How many people do you think might fit the role, Deborah? How many well known, uncorrupt, duty-minded people who are young enough to take part do you think there are? Are we asking the impossible?]

[I seriously hope not, Karen. I don't really know. None spring to mind. Urm. Could you find out?]

[By the gift, you mean?]

[Yes.]

[I think we have reasonable cause, Karen,] George said. [We cannot ask Deborah to risk putting her country into the hands of someone who would turn into as much a disaster as Ibrahim would have been.]

[OK. How about you come up with a list of qualifications, Deborah? Then I'll look to see if the list is one or a few hundred.]

[And if the answer is only a few, then what do we do? Hope that someone nominates them and the committee considers them carefully?] George asked.

[I don't really have a problem with nominating them myself, but yes, thank you, there should be some kind of transparent process once the short list has been chosen. I like the idea. I really do like the idea. As you say, it would move the whole discussion a long way from my respected cousin's unrespectable relatives.]

[Which reminds me, Deborah.]

[Yes, Karen?]

[When you and your cousin are rewriting the constitution, make sure that you get the qualities of your successors listed and specified. Not strict succession of the eldest child, but succession of the eldest worthy child, and if, heaven forbid, there not be worthy children, then a worthy relative, and if no worthy relative then a worthy someone else, chosen from people who are

well known, uncorrupt, duty-minded and young enough to take part, like we are hoping to choose in the first round.]

[This is your country's system? I hadn't realised.]

[Almost. A mistake was made. Fortunately it has never been tested.]

[What is the mistake?]

[No method was included to select who should be chosen if there are no worthy relatives.]

[But there are plenty of relatives, surely?]

[Not so many. In our country it is not very normal to have more than two children, and many couples have just a single child. The royal family have often had three, but then as most of their children have just one child, there are not so many relatives. I suppose actually I might count as one, but please don't tell anyone.]

[You are a relative of your royal family?]

[About seven generations back in my family tree you'll find the only sister of the first king of our monarchy. So, technically a relative, but not really.]

[So your mother's position was not through connections?]

[Oh, not through connections at all. She is just very good at her job.]

[That is good. I think in your country nepotism is not good, is that right?]

[Yes. That is right,] Karen agreed.

[But here, if I do badly, it reflects badly on my cousin, so I must do well.]

[I understand. Our cultures are different. There the family is more important and few would want to bring shame to their elders. But this did not stop Ibrahim.]

[That is true. But because of the great shame he has caused my cousin, he will be most severely punished, if he is foolish enough to return. And now I think I must read my reports.]

----------------------------------------

Eliza (who much to her annoyance was still getting called Liz by her father) looked between what she hoped was the remaining distance indicator on the dashboard and the distance that the navigation computer said. It was probably the distance anyway. It looked like she should make it to someone she could actually speak to

in order to ask for help. Oh, Lord, let me find someone to ask for help, please.

She was so glad that the on-board nav computer had nice pictorial buttons, that the embassy was marked on the map with a flag, and the numbers were in a script she could read. She certainly couldn't read the writing. It was just all too foreign.

Pursuit would probably follow her sometime, but she wasn't sure when the fact that she was missing would be noticed. She hoped she'd timed it well. At least, she thought, she'd learned how to drive. At least the keys had been so nicely labelled. She hoped that if some goons did follow her then it'd be on the motor-bikes. There probably wasn't space on those sport bikes for more than one. It had looked like the other car was out of action, but there might have been another vehicle somewhere. Just her luck there'd be some sort of van with another kidnap squad on board. Hopefully not. One guy on a bike might be able to stop her if he had a gun, but at least there was some traffic on this road — if they tried to drag her out of the car there'd be witnesses. And on the other hand she'd seen the old statistics for road accidents. Someone on a bike in collision with a car? She had a big heavy weapon to hit the goon with if she needed one. Listen to your thoughts, Eliza! You're supposed to be a civilised student of modern history, not a bloodthirsty movie star. Maybe it comes of reading too many books. Oh well. Bloodthirsty movie stars seemed more suited to this world of kidnapping, corrupt police forces and entirely believable threats. So, she had a weapon of sorts, she had fuel, she had a direction to go in. What's that? There was some kind of convoy half blocking the road.

Oh. Military manoeuvres or something. That fitted. This country figured quite a lot in her studies. Of course that was years ago. Hey! Blue helmets — UN soldiers, surely they were a safe bet. And her country's flag! She was safe!

She screeched the car to a halt and ran to the nearest soldier.

“Help! I was kidnapped, I've just escaped! You've got to help me!”

“Of course we will. Captain! Young lady here in distress!”

“Yes, miss, can we help?”

“I was kidnapped, held hostage, but something happened. The boss had been due but he didn't turn up like they expected, and they got sloppy. I stole this car and escaped.”

“I don't suppose the boss was called Ibrahim, was he?”

“I heard the name Hamid, but I'm not sure, that might have been his side-kick. The boss said he was chief of police.”

“Did he now? Well, he's given himself a promotion. Hamid's his side-kick, body guard and general henchman. And, I'm happy to say we helped ship them both out of the country just this morning. Quite literally in chains. They've got an appointment with the UN court for all sorts of crimes.”

“That's a relief. That's a great relief,” and with the relief came tears.

“Samantha, your department, I think. Burt, get that car off the road, please,”

the captain ordered, “I'm going to call home.”

“Hi, I'm Samantha. What's your name?”

“Eliza. Eliza Underwood.” Eliza managed to control the tears.

“Did I hear you were kidnapped?”

“Yes. My father's, urm, a politician, back home. I don't know if there was a ransom demand or what.”

“That doesn't matter. Are you hurt?”

“No, no, they didn't hurt me. Not even... you know, but they did threaten.”

“I'm glad nothing happened. That would have made recovery harder. We'll take you to the embassy and get a message to your parents. They must be really worried.”

“Mum died. A few years ago. I've lived alone, mostly.”

“Not with your father?”

“We're not close. He writes sometimes, and he set up a fund for my education. My parents never lived together.”

“I'm sorry. It must have been hard.”

“To be honest, I'm not even sure I was more than a one night stand. Why did I say that?”

“Put it down to the stress. You've been under a lot of stress. You think you gave them the slip totally?”

“I'm not sure. There was another car, but it was in pieces, and some motorbikes. I don't know if there was another garage somewhere else. It was a big farm thing.”

“How did they get you?”

“I was stupid. I got this message from my dad. I guess it was a fake. He'd arranged a surprise father and daughter holiday, so we could get to know each other better. Plane tickes to here, first class, would you believe! He was here already and either he'd meet me at the airport or send someone. The guy that met me even had my name wrong, like dad does. I had a lovely luxurious flight and didn't suspect a thing.”

“Very clever. But the tickets were in your full name?”

“Yes. I don't know how they did it. Surely dad wouldn't have arranged to have me kidnapped? Did they read his mind or something?”

“I don't know. I suppose it's possible.”

“Urm, that wasn't supposed to be taken as a real suggestion.”

“That's OK, I'm sure your dad didn't arrange your kidnap. Ibrahim kidnapped lots of people. It's his style.”

“But the mind-reading? You took that as a real possibility, didn't you?”

“There are people here they call truth-sayers, Eliza. They can read

thoughts that don't make it past your lips, and are part of the village legal system. There are also people called thought-stealers, who have the same power but use it for evil. Hamid used to be one such.”

“Used to be? He's dead?”

“No, but according to someone I know, he got stripped of his power before he went to court.”

“How on earth did someone do that to him?” Sam could hear the shock in her voice and her suspicions increased.

“Prayer, apparently.”

“Oh.”

“You're more accepting of this stuff than most people. Maybe it's the shock. Oh, captain says we're moving. I'm driving. Do you want to be up front with me or in the back with the boys?”

“Urm, up the front, thank you.”

“It's a bit of a step. Let me help you.” And, grabbing for Eliza's arm she missed. Eliza had moved her arm just on time to avoid the contact.

“Sorry, I don't like being grabbed at.”

“My apologies. Good reactions there, did it help in your escape? Personally I feel the whole thought-stealer / truth-sayer thing a bit black and white. What about people who just try to avoid hearing thoughts if they can?”

Eliza looked at her in surprise, and down at the hand which Samantha held out, with her glove off.

Gingerly, she accepted the invitation and the helping hand into the van. [You hear me?]

[Hello, Eliza. Yes, I hear you.]

[I've never met another thought-hearer.]

[I'm one, Henry, my fiancé, in the back is too. If you meet Hagar at the embassy, she's another.]

[So it's just treated normally here? Nothing special?]

[Oh, I'm not sure I'd say nothing special — please don't tell the rest of this van-load about me and Henry, they don't know. Except the captain. He knows.]

“I'm a bit in shock I think,” Eliza said, dropping hands now she was in the seat.

“That's normal. It's a full five point harness. Not very comfortable but it'll

keep you safe if things get exciting, not that they should. I'm sure that the

ambassador's wife will debrief you. She's got her head screwed on right, seen a

lot, nice lady. She's pointed out to Henry and me that as assigned staff we can use the embassy ballroom when we get married. For free! Imagine that! Do you know what it would cost to hire a place like that? A fortune! It's got crystal chandeliers, the lot! And she tells us we can use it for free!”

“Well, isn't that in the rules or something?”

“Yes, but she didn't need to volunteer the information, did she? I imagine some people would want to keep that a secret.”

“I see what you mean.”

“And her daughter's given me a guided tour of her wardrobe, so I'm going to borrow one of her dresses once I decide which. They're really beautiful. It's looking like it'll be the cheapest wedding ever, and we thought we'd need to save up for years. Sorry. Just a bit excited.”

“Is it soon?” Eliza asked.

“Next week.”

“No wonder you're excited. What about the food?”

“Well, our parents are coming out on a military transport for practically nothing, and we need to pay for their food, but otherwise the ambassador’s wife spoke to the base commander and between them they decided that they'd need to feed everyone else anyway so it's all on the house. Cook's ecstatic, apparently; he loves doing fancy food.”

“It sounds like you've got a good place here.”

“Yes. A good place and very good people in charge. As I said, talk to the ambassador's wife. You can trust her, and she's been around. You don't need to be afraid of shocking her, you won't.”

Eliza understood what Sam was saying. The ambassador's wife knew about truth-sayers, presumably about Sam as well, and was a safe person to tell. It would help her explain her escape.

----------------------------------------

“Hello. Welcome. First let us spend some time talking if that's OK, then I'll give you the guided tour. I've had a brief report from the captain, and he said he'd heard you say your name was Eliza Underwood. Is that right? I'm Maria.”

“Yes. My father...”

“Roland Underwood, I know,” Maria sighed.

“Urm, did I hear some history there? I know he's not got the best record.”

“Eliza, I'd like to concentrate on your kidnap for the moment, if that's OK. But I want to tell you that you should feel very welcome here. You are not causing a problem, you are not causing any special disruption, we do want to see you fully healed from your experiences. We'll arrange travel documents and all the rest. Don't worry about anything. If you want her to, we can have Samantha sleep in the next door room to yours. I'm sure she won't mind the change. If you wake screaming in the night, that's fine, that's... expected almost.”

“You've dealt with other kidnap victims?”

“Quite a long time ago, but yes. Every one is different of course, but there are patterns. Shock, disbelief, and the rest.”

“Samantha said you couldn't be shocked.”

“Well, I'm not sure about that, but I've seen and heard a lot of strange things.”

“So you won't be surprised when I tell you that the worst thing is I heard my captors' thoughts just before they grabbed me, but I couldn't escape them.”

Maria thought a little before answering.

“You expected your power would keep you safe, but you had got into such a vulnerable position that you couldn't react?”

“Yes. I walked into a deep trap.” She told of the fake message from her dad and how she'd been totally unsuspecting.

“When was this? When did they capture you?”

Eliza gave the date. “The ticket arrived the day before.”

“That fits. I'm sorry to say that fits very well.”

“I'd like to know what it fits. You've decided to tell me something. But you're reluctant.”

“Oh, Eliza! You are so right about that. You know my hesitating decisions, I keep trying not to make them, but I fail. I'm very reluctant to tell you, and the reason is that I'm not at all convinced that it'll help you.”

“It concerns my father? Please. Tell me. I think one more shock won't make much difference.”

“Yes, it involves your father. My brother.”

Eliza was silent for quite a long time. “OK, that one might make a difference. I didn't know he had siblings. He didn't write about his past much, not at all, in fact. We hardly ever met face to face, you know. That was part of me being so keen to come on this all expenses paid tour of a strange wonderful land. I should have seen the trap coming.”

“Do you guess why you didn't meet face to face?”

“Because he guessed something about my ability, you mean? And he was hiding something? I don't think he knew. And how would he know what I could do?”

“I think he probably was hiding a great deal. What image do you have of your father, Eliza? Do you really want me to talk about him, or do you want me to change the subject back to what we should be talking about and debrief you properly?”

“My father is, was a politician who was found guilty of abuse of power, corruption, extortion. He tries to convince me that it was all a plot against him, but I'm not convinced. Our legal system isn't that broken, I hope. But I've wanted to get to know him because he's my dad. I don't have any other family alive, or I didn't know I had. I want some roots.”

“I'm your aunt. I can see the family resemblance — I'll show you some old photos sometime. I have a daughter, Karen, who's at university. And your father knows very well what the limitations and capabilities are of your power. He had it, until just before his arrest when some very very brave people stood round him and prayed that it would be stripped from him.”

“Like Hamid the thought-stealer? Sam told me about that.”

“Yes. Like Hamid.”

“Dad was a thought-stealer?”

“I didn't know the term until recently, but I'm sorry to say that it matches his previous use of his talent, yes.”

“But from what I know of him, he was not a henchman or someone's side-kick.”

“No. He wasn't. Isn't.”

“You don't mind if I have a cry, do you?”

“Not at all. I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have told you.”

“It's OK. It's really OK. I'm a history student, modern history. I know how to research things. I read something once, a journalist's unpublished draft report after dad's trial, which said that anonymous sources said that a large proportion of the allegations against him could not be brought to trial because the witnesses were unwilling to testify or had suffered fatal accidents. It was marked for removal in the final copy.”

“Where did you find that?” Maria asked, surprised.

“In the archive of the journalist's work, after he met a fatal accident. I'd thought, you know, it could just be a macabre coincidence. Dad had him killed too, didn't he?”

“Oh, Eliza. It would fit, I'm sorry.”

“And me? Would he have me killed too?”

“No. I don't think so. He is in prison at the moment. Not quite solitary, but not in the general population, and very closely monitored. He does read the news. When he heard about Ibrahim's arrest he claimed that Ibrahim had been blackmailing him, but would say no more.”

“You said it all fitted together? What?”

“The timing, the method. Ibrahim has a method of dealing with people who upset him. He kidnaps a distant relative and threatens to kill them if they don't behave well, then if the person fails again, he kills the hostage and chooses a closer relative. In your case he seems to have jumped to the close one straight away. Ibrahim paid a large bribe that got your father out of jail early. The next thing we know that happened was that your father managed to alter some databases and install a corrupt AI that caught my daughter in a web of lies. It should have ended up with her being kidnapped, but something obviously went wrong for the bad guys, praise God. Instead she got lost in the tunnels she'd been directed to, broke her leg and got rescued. We believe the kidnapping was Ibrahim's command. That was the Friday. On Saturday you get the message, and on Monday when you're safely in the hands of your kidnappers, my brother seems to have three plans in progress at total cross purposes. The first was his normal careful self, finding out via a disposable underling about Karen's life, interests, and so on. The other two seem very hastily arranged. We managed to stop too much harm from any of them, but one of the hasty ones was so sloppy that your dad was actually seen there supervising in person. He's never been that clumsy before. My tentative analysis is that your dad was worried sick about you, Eliza, so worried that he acted almost totally out of character, and also that the plans he was carrying out were not all of his own devising.”

“So, dad is a master criminal and multiple murderer, but he has some protective feelings towards me. I suppose that makes me feel slightly better. At least he didn't arrange my kidnapping.”

“No. I'm quite sure he didn't. Normally, we'd arrange for a call to the kidnap victim's relatives. Would you like to make that call?”

“I think I would. Perhaps it'll make him talk more freely.”

“It'll take a few minutes, I don't think they normally let him near any outgoing communication equipment.”

“Sounds sensible. I think I'm going to need to have a long cry about this, and a long talk to some psych-programs.”

“I have a better idea. Talk to psych-people instead. You need trauma counselling, and I wouldn't be surprised if you have something like survivor guilt too.”

“You mean why does he care about my life when he cares so little for others'?”

“Yes. I think you're going to need a lot of help and I think this is beyond what a computer can help with.”

“But there are hardly any human counsellors now, are there?”

“I know some. Where do you live?”

Eliza told her.

“Well, that's not very close, but I expect something can be worked out. I'll make a few calls while you're talking to your dad.”

“I'd prefer you were here.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Let's let him know that he needn't lie to me any more.”

“OK. I'll arrange the call, then while we give them time to move him,

can we talk about what happened to you?”

“Yes. That's fine.”

Maria tapped a code on her wrist unit. “Hi, in my consular role, I need to make a private full video call to Roland Underwood. Family reasons. Stop spluttering. Yes, I know roughly what it entails, four or five prison officers get to go on a tour of the prison with him instead of playing cards. It'll be good for their waistlines. Now, as I said, this is a private consular call for family reasons. Once he's in the video suite, the officers are to remain outside, not to listen at the door and so on, notify me on my wrist unit. To be more precise, but you don't pass this on to the prison authorities, there is a close relative of his here who needs to talk to him and vice-versa. No, it's not me! No, I didn't either until earlier today, now please can I talk to her?”

“Not the sort of thing they expected to hear?” Eliza asked.

“Well, it's not exactly a normal request. I guess I should warn you. Your dad urm... sent some coded warnings... intended for me that got him put onto the terrorist list. He's in maximum security.”

“And these warnings weren't by normal means? You decided to hide something.”

“Eliza, you've got enough to worry about. Please don't press me. But I will have to ask him if they're still valid. So, please, tell me about your kidnap if there's anything more to say, your imprisonment, your escape, and so on.”

“OK. Urm I've told you about the tickets — in my full name. Then the guy who met me had my name down as Liz, just like dad calls me. I hate to be called Liz, but it just said ‘dad’ all over it. I can only think that they got that from his mind or his correspondence. But how?”

“We think Hamid was supposed to pick up Karen, my daughter. He probably would have met your dad then, and he was a thought-stealer after all.”

“Yes. I heard that. So he asks a leading question and they find out about me.”

“That, plus Underwood isn't exactly a common name, so it'd be easy to find you.”

“I should change my name. Mum thought it would do me good to give me his name when I was born. Him the big important politician, you know. She was his secretary for a while.”

“That's for you to decide, Eliza, but I've never been ashamed of the family name. Have you looked at the family history at all?”

“Not really. I was planning to, but there was so much about dad that I got distracted.”

“I'll show you a copy of the family tree some time. Oh, I should have asked, do you have any loved ones or friends that we should inform, or you'd like to call?”

“No. Not really. A few people at church who I told I was coming here, but no boyfriends. It made me a bit of a loaner, this ability to know exactly what boys were thinking of.”

“Yes. I imagine. There are some good ones around, but I expect in the privacy of their minds, with all those hormones... not as many resist temptations as you'd hope. I err, don't suppose you know, but there's a rather special wedding dress you're entitled to wear if you ever find a suitable man.”

“A special wedding dress?”

“Do you know the family link to ‘Princess Sarah'? You're a descendant on your father's side.”

“You're joking! That dress? It still exists?”

“Oh yes. It's a bit flamboyant, but Karen's planning to wear it at her wedding. As an Underwood girl you're fully entitled to wear it.”

“You're telling me this to try and make me feel like I'm not a piece of scum, aren't you? It's working.”

“Of course you're not a piece of scum, Eliza.”

“No? The bastard product of a one night stand between a corrupt politician cum terrorist and his secretary?”

“We agree that your father's not a nice person, Eliza, and not being a nice person, he didn't marry your mother. It's probably for the best that he didn't really. But you're not following in his footsteps. There're some maggots in our history, but there's real gold too.”

“Thank you.”

There was a discrete chirp from Maria's wrist unit. “Oh, we're getting distracted in every direction, aren't we. OK, let's talk to your dad.” Having said this, Maria pressed a button on the wall. A screen descended from the ceiling and a face was visible. The family resemblance was clear.

“Hello, Roland.”

“Maria? You hate my guts, what are you calling about?” The aggression was clear.

“I don't hate your guts, Roland, I hate what you used to do to me and what you've done with your life. There's a difference. I'm calling because I have someone here you might want to talk to.”

“Hi, dad,” Eliza said.

“Liz! You're safe? I was so worried! Are you OK? How did you get free? He said they'd kill you.”

“They'd heard about Ibrahim's capture and I snuck out while they were trying to decide what to do. Stole a car and headed to the city here. On my way in I found a squad of soldiers.”

“Ha! So my big sister's group of vigilante witches didn't manage to find you then? How come they managed with all my test cases?”

“Pardon?” Eliza asked.

“Eliza doesn't know anything about how you sent me those warnings or threats, Roland. Do you want me to inform her? But actually, yes they did, that's why the soldiers were waiting there for her.”

“What's this all about?” Eliza said, still confused.

“Me and my big mouth,” Roland said, chagrined. “Why not, sis? Why not expose my every crime and ruin the one good relationship I have?”

“Because I had no need to, Roland. As I said, I don't hate you, or your daughter. But I need to know. Those warnings. Were they about your plans or

Ibrahim's?”

“What? You think I'd give you any clue about my plans? I don't have plans now, Sis. You and your friends have seen to that. I had to carry out his instructions, or he'd have killed my little Liz. But I could do it my way.”

“So are you claiming responsibility for just the message, or the way it was delivered?”

“The message. What do you think I am, a monster? I never tortured anyone!”

“You practised on me, Roland. I can show Eliza the scars if she wants proof.”

“OK. I practised on you before I was out of high school and still struggling to find my role in life. I'm sorry for that, Sis. I've not tortured anyone since. Not except under Ibrahim's orders.”

“'Just obeying orders.’ I seem to remember that's not acceptable in most courts these days, but OK, I'll cross torturer off your list of hobbies. So, with Ibrahim's hole under the embassy discovered, and him in jail, are there any other surprises coming if they publish?”

“Just what sort of drug are your people on? You must be burning them out left right and centre.”

“No drugs, Roland. Straight case of divine intervention. Any chance of answering the question?”

“Please, dad. Tell what you know,” Eliza pleaded.

“OK, I'll tell for you, little one. Just don't let them turn you into one of their zombies, Liz, please. You deserve better than that. I'm going to tell all I know, Liz, and then my sister will try and convince you that I'm all wrong, I'm sure. But I can't keep you out of her power, just warn you.”

“I'll only tell her you're wrong if you are, Roland.”

“Ha! You know she works with Security, Liz?”

“It makes sense, Dad. Please call me Eliza though. I've never thought of myself as a Liz.”

“Well, you see, she went off to join them in a great big huff when I was little, afraid of my advanced mental abilities and my scientific investigations, and ever since she has been working to thwart my plans for restoring this country to its greatness.”

“That's an interesting way of phrasing it, Roland. I thought you were just trying to take over the government through bribery and corruption.”

“How else could I lead it to greatness, if I wasn't in charge? The means were justified by the ends. And who better to lead than a superhuman who could read thoughts? Anyway, Liz, her first plan was to hire some witches to enact a heathen ritual around me and strip me of my powers. I don't know how they did it, but once I'd been rendered a mere normal person I had to have extra colleagues. My plans were still valid, after all. I found young Ibrahim and recognised an almost kindred spirit. He wanted to restore the fortunes of his country, I wanted to restore the fortunes of mine.

And the curious thing is that he knew that some foolish scientists have found out about the power I had, and actually want to publish about their discoveries, as though they have no use for our great powers other than as a scientific curiosity. I know you have them — I tested you when you were young. We are a new breed, Liz, destined for great things. But making our existence known is dangerous. It could so easily lead to a witch-hunt in our country, or all over the world even. So, you're in danger if it happens, Liz, and making them known would seriously hurt the ambitions of my friend Ibrahim.

Somehow he knew Karen, and to seal the deal regarding our cooperation he proposed a dynastic marriage. I thought it a little medieval, but why not?

I arranged for her to meet him and somehow he missed his flight. I mean, what's the point in that? I go to all that trouble to get her somewhere that he can rescue her from and then he misses the appointment by six hours. Of course by then another or the same coven of interfering witches had found her. But we couldn't find out how. It was obviously some relation of my own superior mental powers, but they must have been taking a powerful narcotic as well. I had done some experimentation along that line, so I knew it was theoretically possible to increase the sensitivity of the mind, but the hangover was so terrible that I quickly stopped. But, they have government sponsorship and obviously took terrible risks or life-threatening experiments to find out the right doses.

And then one of our team members told us it was indeed the very same witches who planned to publish about their powers that had rescued Karen. So I sought to find out more about this coven of witches from Karen's apartment and again those plans were thwarted, I presume by the witches.

Ibrahim then came up with his rather cruel plan to either exhaust the witches or at least find the limits of their power. I had no wish to be part of it but with my beloved daughter at risk I had no choice.

He was in fact so distressed that these very same witches who had spoiled his plans for wedded bliss also wished to publicise their power and ruin his plans that he said he would blow up our embassy in his capital if they published. I think he thought that I could use my influence to stop publication. But I have little now, and under this oppressive, empire-building government, his action would surely have led to war, so as peace-maker I warned the authorities here via my sister. I have no desire to see our brave soldiers and civil servants killed. My personal adversary at the embassy there was in no way part of my decision, of course, but I used her, knowing that the message would be understood by her but not by Ibrahim, and so my beloved daughter would be safe.”

“Dad, that's a fascinating account,” Eliza said, personally deciding that her father was surely mentally ill.

“Roland, I didn't understand, you should have explained this earlier,” Maria said. “I'll tell the authorities your intentions for your message of course, and I'm sure that your efforts as peace maker will be taken into account. Clearly you yourself are not the terrorist I'd believed you to be from my misunderstanding of your message.”

“I thank you, sister. Perhaps you do not hate me as I believed.”

“No, Roland. I'm just very sorry. I didn't realise that I was misunderstanding you so much. Now I think I must cut the call.”

“Goodbye, sister, beloved daughter.”

Maria cut the call and sighed a long sad sigh.

“He's lost it, hasn't he?” Eliza said. “Totally lost his marbles?”

“Just rather. He used to be such a cold, calculating monomaniac. But I think you're right. Either this is an ultra sly plan to get him early release or he's totally lost touch with reality. I wonder if being stripped of his power did it to him, or realising that he wasn't so unique as he thought he was, or realising that his superior mental abilities were nothing compared to the good guys.”

“I take it I shouldn't ask about his scientific experiments?”

“Ah, no. I don't think so.”

“Then the other question I have is about my meeting the soldiers. Was that just bluff, that they were there to meet me?”

“No, Eliza. Not a bluff. Certain people have a gift from God. If they decide it is important to find out where someone is or how they are feeling or what they're thinking, they can. That's roughly speaking how they foiled your father's plans.”

“So his description of them as a coven taking drugs...”

“Is a very long way from what they do. I have a question for you.

Would you want to be queen, really? OK, you'd get the pretty dresses, but you'd also have those long speeches, you'd have to keep going with a blistering headache, even when you want to lie down and just read a book or something? With everything you say and do potentially recorded and broadcast?”

“Urm, no. I wouldn't.”

“The spiritual gift they have, I think it's a bit like that. It's a heavy responsibility on them. They can know what you're thinking right now, what I'm thinking. They can know why you're thinking it and what your motives are and what lies behind it. And they have to make the decision about whether they should find out or not.”

“What, you mean it's not like they pray and sometimes the answer is no?”

“From what I understand it's much more like, here are the keys, don't crash the car.”

“Urm. Wow. And crashing the car?”

“Your dad did get close when he talked about burning people out. They have access to almost infinite knowledge, but it takes work for their brains to process it and there's nothing special about the thermodynamics of their brains. They do too much, they risk frying their brains.”

“Treasures in jars of clay.”

“Yes. A few of God's special treasures.”

“Will I ever meet any who've had a hand in rescuing me? I'd like to say thanks.”

“It's probable, but I'll pass on the thanks anyway. I'd rather not name names. Let them make themselves known if they think it wise.”

“I understand.”

“We didn't actually know you existed until earlier this afternoon. A colleague of mine doesn't pass on as much as she should. We were really puzzling about why he'd used the word blackmail when she came up with the little gem that he had a daughter he called Liz. They found you immediately, just before you'd escaped, but it took a while to get permission for the soldiers to leave base. It's not our country after all.”

“At some points there in captivity, I rather doubted God, but well, it rather sounds like He was working on getting me rescued.”

“Yes. You do realise that you were almost completely out of fuel, don't you?”

“I thought it was showing me I had enough to get all the way here?”

“No. Very few cars show how much further you can go here. It might have shown how much fuel you'd got left, but that wouldn't have looked much like a distance. What I guess you thought was the distance remaining was almost certainly the number of minutes until the next time of prayer. They all have that available, so people know when it's time to look for somewhere to stop.

“Oh. I thought I had fuel to spare. I'd have panicked if I'd run out. It would have been devastating.”

“That reminds me. Your dad's informant was right about something else.”

“Oh, about the people who rescued Karen?”

“Yes. I'm recommending, very very strongly recommending, that you talk to the trauma counsellors at the Institute for the Human Mind. Therefore as a prospective client (albeit with the government footing the bill), I'd better tell you that some of the people there are working on a publication about the power you have, and Karen was rescued by some people who work there.”

“So you're suggesting that I get my head examined from the inside as well as the outside?”

“No. I'm suggesting that you talk to some very nice Christians I know, to whom you can tell your whole story without needing to edit it at all.”

“And they helped ruin his plans too?”

“Yes. They did.”

“And they won't object to helping me?”

“Why on earth should they? You're as much a victim of Ibrahim's plans as any of the others they rescued.”

“Then... OK... I think I would like to talk to them.”

“Not just once, Eliza.”

“I suspected as much.”

“You said you were a student? Which year?”

“I'm half-way through a two-year masters, about to start the research phase.”

“Then... I expect the university can be persuaded that you don't need to be there quite at the normal time.”

“What, spend my days moping around my flat with nothing to do?”

“Actually, I was more thinking being part of some modern history. There's going to be a major international trial. Presumed heir to the presidency here accused of multiple kidnappings? I assure you he'll be raiding his piggy bank for the best lawyers money can buy. The prosecution needs all the witnesses it can get. And a victim of an international kidnapping scheme would be so much the better.”

“Ah. So where would I need to be for this to happen?”

“UN supreme court is still at the Hague despite all the fuss, there are outposts in New York, Sidney, Cairo, Delhi. I assume the trial will be at the Hague, but they might move it. Of course as a victim you wouldn't be able to watch the proceedings.”

“Ah. So I'd need to sit around and wait, roughly speaking incommunicado, until I get called in to testify. What fun.”

“Or you could give your testimony by written or video statement in front of

a court representative. But then of course the cross examination or clarification is a bit harder.”

“But you're thinking of something cleverer, I assume.”

“Well, honestly, you're at risk, Eliza. The bad guys know where you live and they know you know who they are. So, witness protection and so forth. It's not possible for you to go there right at the moment,

but I do know where there's a nice secure place for you to stay, if they don't mind having you.”

“Come on, Maria. Out with it.”

“I can't be very specific, but the Institute has a very secure site, which has been used before as a safe house. It might be possible for you to stay there, eventually.”

“So there's somewhere I can stay, be safe and talk through my issues until the trial? That's great. But speaking of trials, I presume my father will have one too.”

“Yes. For all his claims of duress, he gave some very clear instructions. But,

having just talked to him, while I don't doubt his continued danger to society, I also believe he needs psychological assessment. If the psychologist is convinced he's as out of touch with reality as he seemed to us, then it might not be a long complex trial so much as a quick commitment to a very secure hospital.”

“I wonder what unhinged his mind so much. He didn't seem this crazy when I talked to him last time.”

“Your dad used to have a very simple outlook on life, Eliza. He had a power no one else except you had, therefore he and presumably you after him should be able to reign supreme over everyone. Also, other people didn't matter since they were normal and he was a superman, therefore if they got in his way he swatted them like bugs. That underlying idea has been really shattered recently. The way that the gifted were able to cope with what he calls Ibrahim's plans so efficiently, well they obviously have greater power than he ever had. He's patched his worldview up by talking about witches, drug abuse and the like, but I think there are so many holes in his argumentation that his sanity has leaked out.”

“And also it's not only us that has that power. He must realise that it was used against him.”

“I expect so. And of course, that hammered home to him how foolish his dream of world domination really was. Reality just isn't a nice place for him to be right now.”

“I have very mixed feelings about my dad at the moment. I pity him, I loathe his attitude to people, and I don't want to speculate what it is you might be hiding from me.”

“You don't speculate and I'll try hard not to think about it. Now, can you tell me about your imprisonment. Names you heard, conditions, details of the place, how many people saw you and were involved in holding you captive, things like that?”

“Yes, OK. Here goes.” And finally Maria got to hear all the details.