Your kind resent this, I know, but your resentment is ill-founded as the world we took over is one that could not have survived without us. Thus, while we are doing what we have come here to do, we are also cleaning up the mess we inherited.

  What mess? you ask.

  Let me tell you.

  The earth contains six billion people and a quarter-million more are added to that figure every day. Those people now produce, consume and dispose of more material than in all the rest of history combined. Indeed, even as I dictate this, rubbish sites worldwide are overflowing and no room can be found for any more. The atmosphere is polluted. Right around the globe, waste incinerators and industrial processes are spewing deadly toxins into the sky and every year the Earth is poisoned with an additional 2.5 million tons of pesticides. Your creation of chlorofluorocarbons through the use of refrigerators, aerosol cans, gas emissions from automobiles and circuit-board fabrication is destroying the ozone layer and letting more ultraviolet light through to reach the Earth to cause sunburn, skin cancer, cataracts and crop damage, even as it drastically affects the world's forests, plankton and weather patterns. The ozone hole over Antarctica is now the area of the United States and the height of Mount Everest and more ozone holes are presently appearing over Europe and Canada.

  The continuing destruction of the remaining ozone will dangerously reduce still further our protection against solar radiation and lead to even higher levels of skin cancer, cataracts and other diseases. The increase in global warming due to the presence in the atmosphere of industrial greenhouse gases will cause drought on a massive scale and a drastic rise in sea levels, bringing about widespread famine, the flooding of major cities and, paradoxically, the terrifying possibility of a new Ice Age of the kind that may have wiped out the dinosaurs.

  Were you doing anything to stop this? No. Instead you were producing even more deadly pollution with your ruthless pursuit of various forms of energy. Your hydroelectricity required the blockage of mighty rivers, your need to grow crops led to the destruction of tropical forests, your industrial areas were choking with smoke, your oil refineries filled the air with poisonous gas, your nuclear waste contaminated the earth and sea, and your thermal pollution was reaching appalling potentially destructive levels.

  We, on the other hand, those you would view as evil, are already taking this problem in hand.

  By taking over the world, by stopping international travel and isolating each individual country from all the others, we have frozen mankind's state of

  technological advancement back where it was in the Old Age. Thus, if not stopping global pollution altogether, we have certainly ensured that it will not increase as rapidly as it had been doing before we took over.

  We stole your freedom? What good was your freedom to you? By the time we took over the world, that world was not only destroying itself with global pollution but heading towards unprecedented conflict and bloodshed. Islamic fundamentalism had spread outward from the East to engulf Europe, the Mediterranean, the United States, and virtually the whole of the developed world. The Flame of Allah scorched all those it touched, with Islamic terrorism causing widespread destruction.

  The Middle East remained in turmoil and elsewhere anti-Semitism was flourishing and was the cause of more violence. In Bosnia, formerly Yugoslavia, in the very heart of a supposedly civilized Europe, rape, torture, murder and genocide were continuing with a barbarism not seen since the dark era of Nazi Germany. Terrorism was rampant on a global scale and terrorist atrocities were occurring more frequently and noted for their worsening brutality. Eco-terrorists, bio-terrorists and religious terrorists were bombing buildings with women and children inside them, ramming and sinking ships at sea with the crews still on them, releasing poisoned gas in subways, pouring toxic chemicals into reservoirs and aqueducts, practising even more hideous forms of biological warfare, destroying whole ecosystems by infecting their monitoring structures with computer viruses, and even using genetic engineering for the creation of biological weapons that could target their diseases on spec fie racial groups. On top of all this was the rise of extremist violence among every imaginable self-styled minority group, including Christian fundamentalists, Millennialists, doomsday cults, radical Blacks, and even the more rabidly active feminists and homosexuals. In fact, the world we took over was about to explode. But by isolating one country from another, by making it more difficult to transport armaments and explosives worldwide, we stopped the explosion.

  Nor was that the only explosion threatening the world we took out of your hands. The population explosion was out of control and starting to make the whole world ungovernable. I repeat: six billion people and a quarter million being added to that figure every day, all with different, often conflicting religions and political creeds. In India alone, twenty million Sikhs were fighting to form an autonomous Punjab nation, millions of Muslims in Kashmir were seeking independence, Hindu fundamentalists were attacking those of other faiths, and bloody riots and slaughters were commonplace. In Africa, the population doubled in two decades and its billion citizens, divided by ethnic, tribal and linguistic barriers, ravaged by drought, famine and environmental degradation, waged bloody war against each other, paving the way for continent-wide disintegration. In China, the pressures of a 1.2 billion population were leading to the unravelling of that vast country's national fabric with social disorder, lawlessness, widespread political corruption, increasing unemployment and a dramatically rising suicide rate. Even the United States was spinning apart, with its fifty states competing fiercely against each other, disunity spreading, national allegiances decaying, unemployment rising, crime increasing, extremist movements demanding regional autonomy or actual secession, and racist and millennial groups of all kinds causing destruction and death on a grand scale. And everywhere in the world at the time we took over it was the same, with the gap between rich and poor increasing, refugees flooding the globe, ethnic tensions mounting, the arms trade booming; and drugs, genocide, plagues, starvation, pollution and terrorism rampant.

  We cannot solve this problem immediately, but we can, and will, in the long term. We took the first steps in population control shortly after we arrived and projects relating to other aspects of Earth control are under way. We aren't moved by altruism, but by healthy self-interest, being aware that the world, though only a temporary abode for mankind, has to be prevented from self-destruction at least until we can leave it. That time will come eventually — it is what we are striving for

  — but until it does we have to ensure that the Earth remains manageable.

  This is why we have taken over, why we abduct in our flying saucers, why we have to enslave so many of you and keep those still free terrified. Because of these acts, you think of us as evil, as being beyond the pale. But we are merely pragmatic, impelled by pure reason, our pathways not cluttered with primitive emotions, our intentions clear and resolute. We have come to drag you out of the dark cave and let you reach for the stars.

  In time, as the sun dies, the Earth will die as well. But long before that happens, before the dying Earth becomes no more than a barren cinder, before the human race dies off like the dinosaurs, like so many other species, we must leave it and travel on to our destiny.

  We, you and I, having emerged from the primordial slime before our brothers, are engaged in this task.

  This is what binds you to me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Michael was dreaming. He was a golden-haired boy standing in an immense field of wheat, gazing up at the sun and wondering when it was going to die, as he knew that sooner or later it must. As he gazed at that silvery orb, squinting against its dazzling light, it expanded to cover the whole sky and let him dissolve into its shimmering haze. That haze had a dark core, an oddly pulsating light-flecked mass at the centre of which, very far away, as if viewed through the reverse end of a telescope, was a circular patch of slowly spinning stars. Michael was drawn towards those stars, through the tunnel of the infinite, and emerged to another cosmos, an immense web of flashing lights — not stars, but lights, flashing on and off rapidly, all around him, above him and below him, and he knew that he was inside a huge brain and being consumed by it. Then he saw himself up ahead, a mirror image of that golden-haired boy, but even as he was drawn towards the boy, either himself or another, the boy dissolved briefly and materialized again, this time as a full-grown man with the same golden-blond hair.

  'This is what binds you to me,' the man said, indicating with a nod of his head the thousands of lights flashing rapidly on and off in that immense, pulsating darkness. 'You and I, despite our many differences, are one and the same.'

  'No!' Michael protested, suddenly filled with a revulsion that consumed him and made his heart race.

  He tried to turn away, but there was no direction home, just that universe of neurons flashing on and off, racing to and fro, up and down, and he felt himself dematerializing, being sucked into it, to become a part of it as the golden-haired man, his smile slight and chilling, looked on without blinking. That look terrified Michael, making him cry out as the darkness swiftly melted away and the sunlight returned . . . then he awakened, being shaken by his sister, whose smile was infinitely more human than the smile of the man in his dream.

  'Hey, hey,' Chloe said, still shaking him awake where he lay on his bed in his parents' apartment in Freedom Bay, his eyes filled with the lights of the room, not with the sunlight. 'Wake up. You were crying out in your sleep. You must have been having a bad dream. Come on, wake up, handsome.'

  Michael rubbed his eyes, then sat up on the bed. 'Yes,' he agreed, 'I was having a bad dream. What are you doing here?'

  'I've been sent to fetch you,' Chloe said, brushing blonde hair from her large blue eyes. 'Dr Brandenberg urgently wants to see you.'

  'Dr Brandenberg?'

  'You heard me,' Chloe said. 'He called ten minutes ago and talked for a long time with Mom and Dad. I don't know what he said, but whatever it was it seems to have upset them both, so it must be pretty serious. They told me to come and fetch you immediately, so you'd better get out there real fast.'

  'I will,' Michael said. He started to pull the sheet off him, but remembered that he was naked under it so instead he raised his eyebrows while still looking at Chloe. She looked back, smiling slightly. 'Well?'

  Michael asked.

  'You want me to leave?'

  'I want to get out of bed.'

  We're brother and sister,' Chloe said. 'No secrets between us.'

  Michael pulled a pill ow over his shoulder and swung at her with it. She ducked and sprang away from him, giggling as she made her way to the door. 'I bet you look awful naked,' she said.

  'Get out of here,' Michael said.

  'I am on my way, brother.'

  When Chloe had left the room, Michael slipped out of bed and went for a shower. As he was washing, he recalled his dream and realized that he had been dreaming about Wilson, that unknown man with whom he was beginning to feel an inexplicable, faintly disturbing familiarity. Nothing that he had heard about the mysterious Wilson had made him seem appealing and, indeed, Dr Brandenberg had described him as a mutant — brilliant but inhumane and, given his absolute, thoroughly ruthless pragmatism, almost inhuman. Yet, despite this, there could be no denying that Wilson had also been a scientific genius and a genuine visionary, his technological innovations reshaping the world and leading, in the end, to the rule of the cyborgs, a tyranny for which he had also been responsible.

  Therefore, if Michael shared anything with Wilson, it was a visionary outlook on the future. Wilson had, after all, worked to circumvent the eventual death of the sun and the consequent obliteration of Mankind. Despite everything else he now knew about Wilson, much of it despicable, Michael had to admire him for that at least.

  Drying himself off and dressing, Michael wondered what Dr Brandenberg had said to his parents and why he so urgently wanted to see him. Clearly, the call was related to what he had told Michael's parents, which strongly suggested that it was serious. Realizing this, Michael alternated between dry-throated nervousness and excitement as he left his bedroom and went into the living room, where he found both his parents and his sister seated around the table, just finishing breakfast. Before he could say a word, his father indicated that he should sit at the table, which he did. He saw the anxiety, carefully suppressed, in his mother's face and was struck by how much like Chloe she looked, right down to the blue eyes and golden-blonde hair.

  Wilson had blond hair, he thought obliquely. And I have blond hair. The boy in my dream had blond hair and I felt, in the dream, that it was me, though he seemed to be Wilson. No wonder I feel strange.

  In fact, as he studied his mother's face, noting how concerned it was, he wondered crazily if he was Wilson's doppelganger, or vice versa. It was certainly a crazy thought in that Wilson, whether or not he was still present in some form right now, had originally died about forty years ago. Nevertheless, Michael could not shake off the feeling that he and Wilson were somehow connected. The very idea was disturbing and he was relieved to turn his attention on his father, who was looking both concerned and proud as he distractedly ran his fingers through his thatch of reddish-blond hair. He, at least, did not remind Michael of Wilson and that was a blessing.

  'You can have your breakfast later,' Joe said. 'Right now, you have to go and see Dr Brandenberg. He wants you there straightaway.'

  'Can you tell me what it's about?' Michael asked.

  'Yes.' Joe glanced at Michael's mother, Grace, then returned his gaze to Michael, letting his breath out in an audible sigh. 'You're going out into the World,' he said, 'and you're leaving today. Dr Brandenberg asked for our permission and naturally we gave it.'

  Michael's nervousness gave way to pure excitement tinged with disbelief. He had been waiting so long for this, preparing for it most of his life, and now that the moment was here he hardly knew how to react. His parents and Chloe, he knew, would be upset by his departure, concerned for his welfare, knowing how dangerous it would be out there, and this knowledge made him feel a bit selfish, even as his excitement increased. Nevertheless, he desperately wanted to go and nothing could change that fact.

  Thanks,' he said, not really knowing what else to say. 'I suppose I'd better get up there. I'll see you all later.'

  Not until you return,' his mother said, the pain of loss already in her blue gaze. 'Not until you return

  from the World, I mean. Brandenberg told us that we had to say goodbye now because you're leaving immediately.'

  Despite Michael's enthusiasm, the speed with which this was all happening took him by surprise.

  'Immediately?' he said. 'What about clothes and things?'

  'You're to go up to Brandenberg's office as you are,' his father said. 'Everything, including your clothing, will be taken care of after he's spoken to you. You won't be seeing us again until you return from the World.'

  Michael nodded, pushed his chair back and stood up. 'Right,' he said, preparing to leave the apartment, now wanting to leave as quickly as possibly and get this painful farewell over with. He had never left home before, apart from his treks into the nearby Antarctic wilderness and it took some getting used to.

  His mother and father stood as well, but Chloe remained seated, trying to smile and failing. His mother and father walked around the table to stand in front of him. Everyone was speechless for a moment. His father took hold of his right hand, shook it vigorously, then tugged him close for an emotional embrace.

  'I'm proud of you,' he said, patting Michael's back, 'but you take care out there. You've worked for this all of your life and we appreciate the importance of the task you've been given. But the World is very different from Freedom Bay and certainly, these days, extremely dangerous. So be very, very careful out there and make sure you come back.'

  'I will,' Michael said.

  His father stepped back to let his wife embrace her son. Grace gave him a lingering hug and kissed him on the cheek, whispering, 'God bless you. I love you. Now, please . . . Go quickly.'

  Michael pulled her back into his arms and kissed her on the cheek. 'I love you, too,' he said. Then he released her and went to the table to lean down over Chloe. She turned her big blue eyes, slightly moist, up towards him, still trying to smile, but still failing. He placed his hand on the back of her neck, then kissed the top of her head. 'Look after Mom and Dad for me,' he said.

  'Yeah, right,' Chloe said, managing this time to grin, though her voice sounded shaky. 'See you soon, brother.'

  'Absolutely,' Michael said. Then he turned and waved at his parents as he walked to the door. Once outside the apartment, after closing the door behind him, he took a deep breath, then proceeded along the gently curving white-walled corridor until he came to the elevator. Entering the elevator, he pressed the button for the penultimate floor and let himself be carried silently upwards, feeling that he was rising to the heavens to face Judgement Day.

  Stepping out onto the floor containing Brandenberg's office, he thought of Wilson's chapel on the floor directly above, the top floor of the whole complex, on the very summit of the mountain, and recalled his experience there with a mixture of awe and fear. He had somehow made contact with Wilson there

  — or, at least, with Wilson's spirit — as he had done later, when he had astrally projected himself into the White House. The explanation for this foiled him for the present, but he would soon find out more.

  He would find the truth, or certainly attempt to find it, out there in the World. His fate awaited him out there.

  Crossing the rectangular hallway to Brandenberg's office, he glanced down through the large bay window at the various inner levels of Freedom Bay, hacked out of the interior of the mountain by Wilson's slave workers a long time ago, each floor linked to the others by catwalks and lifts, the darkness of the central well eerily illuminated by the constantly flickering lights of the separate levels.