It's funny. Sometimes you have the weirdest conversations at the weirdest times. You know?

Like me and my headphones. It's been so long since I've used them, I've almost forgotten about them. But they're always here when I need them, like an old friend.

I could really, really do with a friend.

*

I hear the capsule speak. I press my hand to her heart, and the woman speaks to me. In my head.

'Thank you,' she whispers. 'Thank you.'

Sammi was right. The capsule really does feel like everything, and nothing. I can feel its loose, flowing bonds, the ones that glide smoothly together, elegantly rolling over each other, like a river. Although the capsule is rigid on the outside, inside, it's alive – a living, breathing organism. Power floods to my fingertips. I focus all my efforts into grasping each and every particle that I possibly can.

'Please – do it quickly. One good, strong burst. That will be enough. Please. Do it now.'

And so, I do.

*

The blast tears through the cables, sparks fly, and in an explosion of grey, she bursts apart. Chunks spatter in every direction; one hits me in the chest and I topple backwards, landing painfully on my back. A collective gasp ripples around the group. Kass' face crumples, and his barricade disintegrates.

Futurists pour in through the newly-uncovered door, but the pain in my chest – in my heart – is consuming. Overwhelming. So much so, I barely even see them. I shake my head, over and over, as chaos erupts around me, but inside me, nothing happens.

Why? I ask myself. My reti-chip springs into diagnostic action, feeding me information through my headphones as a Futurist grabs me by my arms and wrenches me backwards. . .

Our sensors detect a blockage, they say. Twist your finger into the suction pad to clear it. You are also due for a dosage raise – please report to your local medical facility.

Great. I reach up and poke my finger inside the hole between the pads on the back of my neck.

Ahh.

'No, you don't!' The Futurist yanks my arm back down to my side, but I've done it; something internal shifts, and I shake my head again.

A huge, calming wave sweeps through me, and I close my eyes, sighing with relief as the weight on my heart lifts. I feel light, light as air. I can still hear the shouting, the screaming, but it floats over me, not bothering me at all. I blink lazily at the Futurists as they rip the canisters from my back, stripping me of my empty weapons. At Dimitrov, as they knock him to his knees; at Kass, whose feet kick the air as he's flung over a Futurist's shoulder –

I guess I never really believed that we'd rescue the missing Elementalist anyway. I guess I've always known that I'm meant to be used.

*

A great, white pad drifts down through the hole in the ceiling, and with grunts of effort, the Futurists pile us on. By now, we're all bound and gagged except for Hughes, who lies weakly on her side bleeding onto the snow-white surface. Slowly, the pad begins to rise.

I regard Hughes, silently, wondering if she's going to die. I remember how she clung to my waist as Henry darted through the storm of bullets. The most daring soldier I've ever flown with. Hmm. I don't want - it would really suck if she dies.

Then, it occurs to me that the Futurists haven't killed any of us yet. They're allowing us to live – but for how long? Nine of them are cramped onto this lift-pad with us – I've counted – their blue mesh helmets knocking together as they bicker about where to take us.

'Straight to the General?'

'Will he want to be disturbed?'

'Of course he'll want to be disturbed –,'

'What about the situation outside –?'

'How do we tell him about the capsule?'

The pad floats up into a bright white FUTURE laboratory. The cleanliness shocks me; it's so bright, I have to scrunch up my eyes. I've almost forgotten what clean looks like, everything is so dank and dingy in RESIST. Even Keller's hospital can't compare; I smile despite myself. He would love this place.

Scores of scientists stop in their tracks, peering at us open mouthed – someone drops a test tube and it smashes over the vinyl floor in a violet puddle. Soldiers barge through the crowd to surround the hole through which we emerge, shouting at the scientists to stay back, the barrels of their guns following our ascent.

What do they think we're going to do? Roll off and throttle them with our bound wrists?

The pad drifts along a corridor, people diving out of the way in their haste to not get squished. I stare as we sail past. Droids lean against polished walls, carefully oiling each other's joints; drones whizz past with ammo; and there, out of the corner of my eye, I spot an AI-vending machine with some of Dove's favourite choco-pod snacks inside. Through the haze of my dampened emotions, I sense a dull ache. This place. . . was me. This was my life. . . How have I become a prisoner in my own world? Then I glance at Kass, his hate-filled eyes; at Dimi and Paolera, chained together – Dimi sporting a wound to the head; Hughes, pale and lifeless in a pool of blood. . .

Is this what it means to be Futurist? Shiny and clean while the rest of us go to hell?

I wonder if Kass will ever speak to me again.

Then I wonder if I want him to. My stomach prickles – me, traitor? Please. It takes one to know one.

At the end of the passage is a white, steel door, decorated lavishly in a thousand tiny lights. One of the Futurists aboard the pad leans in close, letting the lights shine in a pattern into his right eye: yellow, blue, green, red, blue. . . In one swift motion, the door opens.

The pad draws to an abrupt stop in mid-air, hovering soft and gentle as a breeze.

In our way stands General Jinaka.

He's smaller than I remember, and rounder, his forehead puckered with beads of sweat. With one hand, he picks at his tufty moustache, whilst the other tosses a pearly-white orb up and down. His eyes pop in surprise.

'S-Sir!' The Futurists jump to their feet and give a short, curt bow. Then, one with a lieutenant's lapel steps forwards.

'We've captured some of the rebel Resisters, Sir. We estimate several dozen survivors in medical, not including the ones you see here. Sir, we have reason to suspect that three of the captives are Elementalists. Sir – they – they got to the capsule, and the damage, it's serious. . . We're so sorry, Sir –,'

'Alright, alright, Charlie.' Jinaka waves his hand irritably, pocketing the orb and massaging his temple instead. 'What do you think I've been doing all day, playing checkers? I've just got back from medical. Do you realise how many of my soldiers those buggers have gone and murdered?'

Paolera makes a furious noise behind her gag and starts struggling; Jinaka glances at her with interest.

'What. You object to my use of the term 'murder'? What would you call it?' He rolls his eyes at the Lieutenant. 'Charlie, how is she meant to answer with that abomination over her mouth?'

Charlie purses his lips, but nonetheless pulls the gag down from Paolera's mouth. She spits, glowering up at Jinaka.

'I call it fighting to protect what we love.'

'Ha!' Jinaka laughs. It's a bitter sound. 'Take them to medical, Charlie, apart from the one who's making a god-awful mess all over my hover pad. She needs a surgeon, quick now, or we'll lose her.'

'What are you going to do to us?' Paolera snarls, as two soldiers haul Hughes off the pad and sidestep Jinaka, who inspects her with vague curiosity as they carry her past him through the flashing door. He turns back to Paolera and sighs.

'Right now? Not a lot. I've got to organise the clean-up of hundreds of bodies, assess the current damage, along with the situation on the ground. I'm sure you'll agree, those all take precedence over you. You'll stay in medical until I'm ready.'

'Like hell I will.' She struggles, tugging on her binds; Jinaka tuts, ducks under the hover pad, and strolls away from us down the passageway, still chanting orders.

'Gem, take the soldiers away, and Charlie, get the Elementalists to Fina's lab. Make them comfortable somewhere for the time being; I know a certain doctor who will be dying to see them when he has a moment.'

'Don't you touch them – Kass, Rai!' Paolera's gag is yanked back over her mouth as we're separated; Charlie slings me over his shoulder beside his gun. All I can do is stare at the back of his uniform, at the vibrant blue crest, as I'm bumped along. I can hear Kass grunting and kicking in the background, the Futurist carrying him grumbling.

They take us through a room that, in stark contrast to the rest of the building, is badly lit, one lonely bulb flickering from an old-fashioned lamp propped up on a rickety wooden desk. Beside it lies a plush velvet chair, plump with padding, tipped over on its side. Perhaps knocked over in its occupant's haste. Stacked across the floor are piles of papers, some so tall they almost scrape the ceiling, covered in scrawled handwriting that I recognise from signings. Is this Jinaka's office? It's so old-fashioned. . .

Beyond the office is a steep staircase; we snake along so many winding corridors that I lose track, until I'm dumped, unceremoniously, on the floor of a small room. It has a bed, a clean, porcelain toilet, and a simple plastic desk with a chair. There's even a window, light peeking in from outside.

The soldier carrying Kass throws him onto the bed. Charlie kneels down to fumble with my chains.

'If you stop wiggling, I'll untie you!' the Futurist says to Kass, sounding exasperated. 'You're going to make your injury worse.' But Kass, being Kass, continues to thrash on the soft covers, his yells muffled by his gag. Charlie unties mine, and I stretch my jaw out, touching it hesitantly.

'It's alright. We're not going to hurt you,' Charlie says, turning to my hands and clicking open the shackles. He glances at Kass, then up at the other soldier.

'Don't worry about him,' I mutter, rubbing the marks on my wrists. 'I'll untie him when he calms down.'

'Fair enough.' Charlie beckons to his colleague, who gives up on Kass with a shrug. 'Don't try and escape, it's not going to happen. Just keep him calm until Jinaka gets here. He'll want to talk to you.'

'I'll bet.'

Charlie tosses me the key to Kass' cuffs and leaves the room with his fellow soldier, shutting the door behind him. I listen to the click of the lock and their footsteps retreating along the corridor. Kass lies on the bed, red-faced and panting heavily.

'Are you finished now?' I inch along the floor until I'm close enough to prop my arms up next to him on the bed, resting my chin on my hands. 'Or are you just going to carry on with whatever this tantrum is?'

Then something clicks.

'Where's your inhaler?'

Kass shakes his head; I tug the gag off his mouth, unleashing an explosion of coughs and splutters. There's a blue tint to his lips, and I have to shake my head again to dispel the creeping panic.

'Lost – m-my – c-c-cloak –,'

'It's okay.' Heaving myself up, I settle on the bed next to Kass, lifting him upright against my body. I rub my hand in a wide circle over his back, feeling his shoulders tense under my touch. 'Relax, for god's sake. Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Again. Again.'

'I – h-h-hate – you.'

'Yeah, well. I don't particularly like you right now, either.'

'Ass-s-s h-h-ole.'

'Just shut up and breathe.'

It takes a while before Kass feels well enough to shrug me off. With a look of deep reluctance, he shoves his bound wrists in my direction. 'Get these pieces of crap off me.'

My fingers fumble with the chains; they're streaked with dark red blood that has dripped down from his shoulder.

'Ahh.' He waves his hands to get the feeling back, and for one delusional moment, I think he's going to thank me. But no; his face settles into his standard scowl. 'I can't believe you did that. How could you?'

'What?' I shake away a bubble of my own anger. 'Do what we were meant to do in the first place? Get off your high horse. You think the capsules want to be stuck like that? You don't know – you didn't have to look her in the eye and end it. I did.'

'And what?' Kass snarls. 'You think she was thanking you?'

I look down, feeling the back of my neck flush. 'I dunno. Yeah, maybe.'

'Don't kid yourself.'

'Oh, and what about you?' I flare back. 'Using me to blackmail Cadence? You're just like everybody else, using me to get what you want.'

Kass blinks. 'It wasn't like that –,'

'It never is.' I turn away. 'Look at me. . . It's all anyone's ever going to see, isn't it. A black-market bitch, just like Brie said.'

'Rai – I –,'

But I don't want to hear it. Not anymore. Careful not to jar him, I slide off the bed onto the floor. It's better than looking at Kass, that's for sure.

*

Countless hours pass, until the light streaming through the window fades into complete darkness. There aren't any other lights in our cell, no other ways to combat the blackness. I must have fallen asleep 'cause when the door finally opens, I get the shock of my life, jerking awake and cricking my neck. Kass must have fallen asleep too; his hair is even more dishevelled.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Someone slips inside, muttering rebuttals to someone outside the door.

'No, no, stop fussing. I don't need a bodyguard.'

'But Sir, they're Elementalists, you've seen what they can do –,'

'They won't hurt me.' There's a click, and a light flickers on – Jinaka is leaning against the door, puffing out his chest like he's out of breath. He holds up a twinkling prism, and my first idiotic thought is that it looks like a star. He lets it go and it sails above his head, casting an eerie glow around the room.

We stare at Jinaka. The FUTURE general. He has a slightly frazzled air about him and is sweating profusely; he wipes his face with a handkerchief.

'Phew!' He pockets it. 'What a night, boys. Budge up.' He waddles over to the bed and plonks himself down next to Kass, who scoots out of the way with a horrified expression.

'Get away from me!'

'I rather think it should be me saying that, not you.' Jinaka raises a somewhat stern eyebrow. 'My bodyguards are wetting themselves with anxiety at the thought of me being alone in here with you two. Assisting in the slaughter of hundreds of soldiers; destroying one, no, two of the world's energy supplies; thank goodness the Singwari capsule is still up and running or we'd be up shit-creek without a paddle. You two are some serious criminals, you know.'

Our mouths fall open.

'You – what – we aren't criminals!' Kass stammers. 'You're the criminal.'

'I'm sure we could back and forth over the issue all day long, but then, who has the time?'

'You killed my family!' Kass scrambles backwards in such haste he becomes tangled in the sheets. Jinaka watches as Kass flails, growing redder and redder before landing in a heap beside me on the floor. He sits up, panting furiously. 'You – you have the nerve to sit there, all smug – you condemn everyone who isn't rich to be left behind in this pit. What kind of a leader are you?'

'A very confused one.' Jinaka frowns down at Kass, his head cocked to one side. 'I've heard the RESIST rhetoric before – that's nothing new – but killing your family? I don't know you or your family. How could I have killed them?'

'Maybe n-not you personally.' Kass begins to shiver, and I almost forget; the naked hurt in his voice just makes me want to hold him and protect him forever. 'But it was on your orders that they were murdered. They wouldn't hand me over, so they deserved to die. What kind of leader does that to his people?'

'A very poor one.' Jinaka's frown deepens so much his eyebrows practically knit together. 'Look, boy, I don't know what these people you've been consorting with have told you, but let me set a few things straight –,'

'My whole village died to protect me from you. So, it's my job – our job – to stop anything like that from happening again, to people you refuse to relocate. To trash you murder like they mean nothing. I'm not here to hurt people. I'm here to protect them.'

'Oh really?' Jinaka rolls his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 'How noble of you, how brave. How many people have you protected so far?'

Kass says nothing.

Jinaka sniffs. 'As I thought.' He turns to me. 'And what about you? Do I. . . know you from somewhere?'

'Um,' I swallow. 'I raced with the Lares Youth team. . ?'

'Oh, yes! Didn't I sign an autograph for you a couple of years ago?'

How on earth does he remember? 'Yeah. . .'

'What the hell?' Kass punches me in the arm. 'Stop chatting with him!'

Jinaka gets up from the bed and squats in front of us. He cuffs Kass around the head, but before Kass can retaliate, he grabs Kass' fist and twists. Kass lets out a yelp. 'I'm trying to show you that contrary to what you think, I care deeply about my citizens. I remember the faces of everyone I meet, whoever they are, whatever their value. I would never have commanded the deaths of your family. Never in a million years.'

'Liar! I saw them! Blue tanks, blue-armoured soldiers – g-gunning them d-down –.' Tears streak down Kass' cheeks as he lunges at Jinaka with his other fist.

Jinaka blocks Kass easily. 'Well then, I assure you I will launch a full investigation. But, I must admit that we have been searching for you. All of you. It was crucial RESIST didn't get their claws into you for exactly this reason. We knew this was what they wanted. We just had no idea they'd found so many of you.' He plucks at his moustache again. 'Our informant said they only had one. The liquid one.'

I feel hot all of a sudden. 'How could you only know about me?'

'It's not easy to find four random children with no leads, you know.' Jinaka looks tired. 'It's a big world. We had various suspects, but it's not like you let off any signs or anything.'

Kass makes a noise, and Jinaka raises an eyebrow at him expectantly. Kass clears his throat. 'You mean, not until our sixteenth birthday. Then, once our blockers ran out, you could track us and gun us down all you wanted. . .'

Jinaka is giving him a very odd look. 'Blockers? What are you -? Look, without any tip-offs, we just had to wait for you to show yourselves, or someone to turn you in. We only discovered you when you fought with bandits in the Slavskani wastelands. Our officers captured them and they linked you to Titus, the devious snake. That gave us something to work with, and actually allowed us to finish making this.' From out of his pocket, Jinaka removes the cloudy orb he'd been playing with when we first met him. It shimmers in the light, reflecting Jinaka's proud, smug smile.

I bite my lip. 'What is it?'

'It's a Wormhole. Not so dissimilar to your temporary wormholes; they're a nice bit a of tech, those, your engineers should be proud. But, ours are better. This is the first of its kind, a prototype we're calling the Ultimate Wormhole. It doesn't need pre-programming, and works in two different ways. It can locate any reti-chip worldwide and teleport you to that spot. Or, it can teleport you to any known location in the wormhole database. Pretty nice, right?' Jinaka grins, a ghoulish display of teeth from a predator to its prey. 'We were just making the final adjustments before using it to find you. But then you decided to drop by and spare us the trouble.'

The wormhole seems so innocent, glittering in Jinaka's hand. If they'd used it to track me only days earlier, they'd have found RESIST headquarters. They'd have found everyone. . .

'What about the fourth Elementalist?' Kass grunts, and I snap back to reality.

'Yeah. What about her?'

'Oh, well.' Jinaka slides the wormhole back into his jacket pocket in a swift, business-like manner. 'We caught her years ago.'

'Years?'

'Yes. Her powers were by far the easiest to detect. An ethereal Elementalist with an affinity towards plasma. . . considering the rarity of plasma compared to solids, liquids and gases, we were surprised. But it soon made sense. She had, er, sparked a fair bit of attention.'

'So, where is she?' Kass says. 'What have you done to her?'

Jinaka smiles. 'This is one of her rooms. I can take you to meet her if you like.'

'Stop treating us like we're your friends!'

'Oh.' Jinaka leans towards Kass, and suddenly I don't see a sweating, balding old man anymore. I see venom. I see fire. 'You are no friend of mine, Elementalist. I don't befriend guerrillas.'

'Guerrillas?'

'What would you call yourselves? Freedom fighters?' Jinaka stands and turns his back on us, rubbing his face with his hands. 'You're too young to remember the desperation and desolation left behind after the wars. For fifty years Telluns killed and maimed each other over ridiculous things like religion, colour, sexuality.' He sighs. 'Is it human nature? To strive for similarity rather than embracing our differences?'

'What are you on about?'

'I single-handedly picked up the pieces of the ruin that remained. Do you know who FUTURE really is? We are the refugees, the orphans and children, of a world left starving and dying whilst their governments bombed each other to smithereens. When the war was exhausted, I stepped in and said no more. I created Singavere, a haven for all the victims, and yeah, you know what? I did a bad thing. I left the bastards who tore apart our world on the outside, the bastards who went on to form RESIST.' His teeth glow savage yellow as dawn peers through the window. 'And when Ra offered us help? Promising us a future away from this hell-hole? I accepted for the good of all the people who suffered.'

'But people like me and Sammi didn't do anything wrong,' Kass yells. 'You're punishing people for their parents, their grandparent's, crimes! How is that any better?'

'It's not,' Jinaka sighs. 'I realise this now. Anger does terrible things to a person, especially when it turns into revenge. I was determined that my Singavereans would live a better life than they'd suffered, so I joined the Republic of Extra-terrestrials and gave Singavere everything Ra sent us. But once my anger died down, I set up the rations system and split everything we made on Tellus amongst the rest of the population. But the damage to the atmosphere is so severe – everyone kept dying. Ra offered us vaccine, but only a limited supply, and at such a hefty cost. I –' Jinaka's voice breaks. 'I had to be sparing with it. Only the strongest people, those most likely to survive. . .'

'Those who made it to sixteen,' I whisper.

'Yes. And in return for the vaccines, we had to turn huge regions of the planet into energy farms for Ra. Their planet is so overpopulated, they can't generate enough energy to keep up – for them, this is the perfect solution.' He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 'We are completely at their mercy. They have given us everything – a way to survive. But we can't survive this way forever. We must relocate.'

'But why not everyone? Why does it have to be a choice?'

Jinaka stares at me. 'It's not a choice. We are relocating as many people as we can, but it takes time, and money, and we don't have much of either. People die faster than we can relocate. That's all.'

Kass snorts. 'Maybe if you didn't waste all our money on Futurist luxuries –,'

'ENOUGH.' Jinaka swings around and seizes Kass by the scruff of his shirt, hauling him up from the floor. His round face has turned white, and a vein pops on his temple. 'You, a boy made by my enemies to destroy everything I've built, dare to tell me how to govern my world?' He throws Kass at his feet and lets out another bitter laugh. 'You don't know how childish you sound.'

'I don't care.' Kass curls into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. 'I used to believe in you. I believed all the FUTURE propaganda, all the lies. I had posters of you on my goddamn wall. And what did you do? You blew it all to pieces –,'

'Stop.' Jinaka covers his eyes with a weary hand. 'I've fought too long and too hard to need to plead my innocence to the likes of you.'

'Why did you do it?' Kass is weeping now, his shoulders shuddering and I inch closer to comfort him. But he jerks away from me, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. 'They did nothing, they wouldn't have hurt anyone. . . We're just collateral to you, aren't we. Kids, Resisters, anybody who isn't you. And you wonder why people can't embrace their differences. You can't even see your own hypocrisy.'

Jinaka snorts in contempt. 'Collateral? Resisters can play the victim all they want, but the fact is that they destroyed themselves. They crave control, and resent us for taking over. They'd have you believe that this world can be fixed because they treat Tellus like a putty that can be moulded and reformed. Their creation of you only further proves that fact. In reality, our world is finite, delicate, and far beyond our repair. The hundreds of years it would take – I doubt there'll be anyone left to live in it by then! The only way to survive is the vaccine, and we can only get the vaccine by energy farming. It's as simple as that.'

'But –,'

'Enough.' Jinaka stretches out his back until it crunches. 'I'm tired of you, and it's been a god-awful day. I've got meetings with the Overlord of Ra all afternoon to explain the damaged capsule and will be visiting the wounded all evening. So, you've only got me for another ten minutes. Would you like to meet Fina or not?'

*

Jinaka marches us through a labyrinth of laboratories, greeting everybody we pass by their first name. We stop countless times for him to console soldiers, field-off questions from second, third and fourth-in-commands, and bark orders at every technician we bump into. He treats them like family, asking personal questions about relatives, wiping tears off cheeks, and even bowing to those older than himself – and in return, they adore him.

The funny thing is, this seems totally normal to me. It's exactly what I've been brought up to expect from him.

The Futurists aren't so happy to see us, though. They regard us with disapproving, suspicious glances, nudging each other and whispering – we slink behind Jinaka and for some reason, I find myself feeling ashamed.

Jinaka flings open the door of a final laboratory. A scientist in a long white coat is turning slowly on his chair, chewing the top of his pen, deep in thought. He jumps out of his skin as the door hits the wall, glasses toppling from his nose.

'Your Excellency!' He adjusts his glasses and they flash, a strange golden glint. 'I've just been checking my notes. . . to see if there's a way I can maximise the medications I have available. . . The Resisters attacked, you know?'

'Yes, Zhal'n.' Jinaka pats him on the back with a sardonic smile. 'Where do you think I've been all day? Vesta?'

'If only, your Excellency. By my life-spirit, I pray each day. . .'

'Not now, Zhal.'

'Sorry, your Excellency. I'm feeling a tad anxious. Nasty memories. . .'

'It's alright. We'll sort this.' Jinaka pauses, and frowns. 'We always do. Zhal'n, there's two boys I'd like you to meet.' He turns to Kass and I with his hands on his hip, surprise suddenly dawning on his features. 'Hang on. I don't know your names!'

'I'm Rai, and this is Kass.' I glance warily at Zhal'n. This man is not Tellun. He squints at us through magnified-eyes, rapping skeletal fingers on his desk in an incessant tapping noise. He seems to breathe quicker than most people. It makes what is probably nothing more than curiosity seem far more threatening. More like hunger.

'Hmm. . .' The doctor brings a curved talon to his lips. 'Your excellency, word from the soldiers is that the Elementalists are here. Are these. . ?'

'Two of them.' Jinaka plonks himself on the doctor's desk, knocking a collection of mugs and papers to the floor. 'Oops, sorry. There's a third in medical. She got hurt in the fight.'

'Is she okay?' Kass bursts out, but Jinaka just tuts.

'Now, you ask? Yes, she'll live. Now, Zhal, these boys have been completely –'

'And what of their magic?' Zhal'n interrupts, leaning towards us.

His eyes are so intense, my heart starts to hammer. 'Magic?' I whisper. 'We're not magic. Our powers are science. . .'

Zhal'n recoils, sitting back in his chair and pressing his long fingers together. 'You call it science. We from Vesta call it magic.'

I knew it. I knew he wasn't from Tellus. . .

Jinaka coughs pointedly, and Zhal'n bows his head. 'Sorry, your Excellency. Please continue. . .'

'These boys have been completely brainwashed by RESIST, as we suspected. A chat with Fina would do them good, don't you think?'

'Well, yes, but. . .' The doctor has a habit of leaving his sentences dangling, like he can't quite be bothered to finish them.

'But what?' There's a dangerous edge to Jinaka's voice. Zhal'n removes his glasses, polishes them on his lab-coat, then glances up.

His eyes are a startling shade of gold.

Calmly, he slots the glasses back onto his nose. 'She's not here. . .'

'WHAT?'

I jump backwards into a bookshelf, sending several works tumbling down. Zhal'n merely blinks, and folds one long leg, like a spider's, over the other.

'Your Excellency, it is quite the quandary. . . Captain Hayden had a signed note from one of the Lord Protectors of Ra, and you know how fond our lady Fina is of Captain Hayden. He took her from the lab whilst I was tending to the wounded, and. . .'

'AND WHAT?'

'Well, that's it.' Zhal'n rises out of his chair to stand beside Jinaka. Naturally, he towers over him, but he seems to be making an effort to stoop. He pats Jinaka on the shoulder. 'They've just. . . gone.'

'GONE WHERE?'

'I don't know. . .'

With the bellow of a wounded bull, Jinaka charges past Zhal'n to kick the open door at the other end of the room open.

'FINA?'

'She's not there,' Zhal'n smiles. 'I've searched the place thoroughly. There's no sign.'

'But – but how?' By now, Jinaka's disappeared into the back room, amidst crashes and thundering of what sounds like furniture being overturned.

'I cannot be certain. But I imagine that the chaos of RESIST's attack provided many a good opportunity. We were a little distracted. . .'

'A LITTLE DISTRACTED?'

'My deepest apologies. . .' Zhal'n bows as Jinaka storms back, his jowls quivering with rage.

'What was Hayden thinking?'

'I cannot be certain.'

'Sir!'

We turn to the door. Charlie, the lieutenant from earlier, is hovering, his face pale and strained. Jinaka places a balled fist to his forehead, and takes a deep, measure breath.

'What now, Charlie?'

'We've got a problem.'

*

'Where are we going?' Kass fumes.

We're back on the hover-pad, handcuffed once again, although this time, Jinaka sails along beside us, massaging his temple throughout the flight. The pad takes us a different route, one that shows off the extent of the damage from our attack.

A hole has been blasted right through one of corridors into the adjoining lab, where a group of terrified scientists are desperately attempting to stop a noxious-smelling chemical seeping into the rest of the building. Clusters of soldiers lie gasping on the floor surrounded by medics and carrier-drones, whilst officials bark instructions so loudly that I can't differentiate them all. Rather than stopping, the hover-pad drifts over them all, so high that the tips of Kass' hair stroke the ceiling. It winds along various passageways, then down a long flight of stairs into an underground basement, where it grinds to a halt.

'Come on.' Charlie drags me off, pushing me through the basement door. 'This way.'

Inside is a medical facility. Droids scurry around carrying bed-pans and bandages, and my stomach lurches as I see one hurry past me with what looks like a human arm. Rows of beds line the walls, and a huge television covers one of the walls almost entirely; the Tellus News is on. It's so distracting, I almost don't notice one of the beds. It's so surrounded by soldiers that at first, I can't make out who's inside. Then I see a familiar dark halo of hair across the pillow.

'Sammi?'

Sammi's hands leap to her mouth. Her face is bruised all down one side, blood collecting in a reddish-purple pool on her jaw. Stitches decorate her left eyebrow, and a swathe of bandages cover her ribs.

'R-Rai?' She's half-choking, half-sobbing; she reaches towards us, but one of the surrounding soldiers pins her back. 'Kass? I thought – I thought –.'

I try to shrug Charlie off, but his grip is like iron. To my surprise, he heaves me through the crowd of soldiers, barging them out of the way before flinging me down at the end of her bed, Kass dumped beside me. Sammi struggles to sit up, but once again, she's pushed back against the pillow.

'Stay back, Elementalist.'

Sammi ignores the soldier holding her down. 'I'm so glad to see you,' she weeps, hiding her face beneath a curtain of hair. 'W-where have you been?'

'This isn't a cosy reunion.' The soldier holding her down raises his hand, threatening to strike. She flinches on instinct, and despite my filters, I feel a sharp surge of anguish – but then, Jinaka's hand whips out and grabs the soldier by the wrist.

'Not in my establishment,' he hisses. 'That is not how we treat our prisoners. Go become a Resister if that's how you want to behave.'

'S-sorry, Sir. I'm so sorry.' The soldier flushes, withdrawing his hand instantly. Sammi glances at Jinaka with wide, suspicious eyes as he collapses into the seat next to her.

'So, what's this all about, Charlie?' He rubs his eyes, before staring bleakly up at his lieutenant, who's pacing in front of the TV screen.

'Just watch.'

We all turned to where Charlie points. A horribly familiar place floods the screen.

A reporter runs for cover as Fighters rain rockets down from the sky.

'No.'

Children, on their way home from school, scream as trees along the sidewalk burst into flame.

'No, please no.'

The Guilds of Medicine and Engineering, the shining stars of the city-centre, crumble as bombs strike.

A red, blazing 'R' adorns the backs of a thousand soldiers, who swarm through the streets of the home I love.

Singavere is on fire.